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whatstruthgottodowithit · 2 months

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The Other Evans Girl [Part Forty]

Fandom: Harry Potter [Marauder’s Era]

Pairing: Sirius Black x Original Female Character, Sirius Black x Daisy Evans, James Potter x Lily Evans

Characters: Sirius Black, Original Female Character, Daisy Evans, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Alice Fortescue, Frank Longbottom, Marlene McKinnon, Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix LeStrange, Walburga Black, Orion Black, Jasper Thicknesse, Barty Crouch Jr, Mulciber, Walden McNair

Word Count: 8366

Rating: Mature

Summary: Hogwarts is a safe haven, a home for many, but it’s often a place where heartache, love and complex emotions dwell and none know that better than the Marauders. Lily Evans just wants to make it out as a successful witch though the oncoming war and the ongoing advances of James Potter threaten that. Daisy Evans, her twin, has other goals. Join the Evans sisters as they make their way through Hogwarts, prepare for war and eventually find love.

Tags/ Warnings: Hogwarts, Friends, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Marauder’s Era, Teenage Angst, Babies, Weddings, Dating, Crying, Loss of Virginity, First Wizarding War, Love, Kissing, Teenagers, James Potter is a bit of a dick, Hogsmeade, 1970s, Fighting, Loss of Parents, Grief, Babies, Injuries, Gore, Harm, Christmas, The Potter’s Mansion // Daisy’s Dress // NYE Lily’s Dress // NYE Daisy’s Dress // Lily’s Ring // Daisy’s Ring

Notes: Okay so I’ve been working on updating this and I’ve finally gone through all the chapters already written before I start writing more. It’s changed a lot so I’ve decided it’s just better to completely re-upload it.

If you want tagging let me know

LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST // LINK TO ALL PARTS

‘Well that was a waste of time,’ Lily grumbled as she came through the attic door and took a seat on the settee next to James. Daisy glanced over from where she had been flipping through a magazine with Sirius, whose head was on her shoulder as he offered an occasional murmur about an article despite protesting he was interested in ‘Witch Weekly.’

‘What was?’ James asked, pushing his glasses up his nose as he looked at Lily confused. Again Daisy said nothing, though her attention became more fixed on the conversation even though she knew what it was going to be about. Lily had gone to McGonagall. Of course she had warned them that she was going to tell, her worries about the Slytherins growing more and more without them actually doing anything, but Daisy had still hoped she’d hold off fearing involving teachers wouldn’t help. Turns out she was correct.

‘What did she say Lil?’ Remus asked, placing his booked down on the chair arm, his interest just as piqued.

‘She won’t help,’ Lily said.

‘Figures,’ Sirius said rolling his eyes. Daisy glanced at him, their eyes meeting with a frustrated gaze.

‘Why not?’ James asked.

‘She says she can’t,’ Lily said.

‘Can’t or won’t?’ Daisy asked, her irritation bubbling to the surface as her sister looked towards her.

‘Can’t, well, at least I hope it’s can’t. She says that without proof they’re doing something wrong she can’t do anything. And given our track record with the Slytherins it just looks like we’re out to get them,’ Lily said.

‘Did you tell them about the book?’ Sirius pressed.

‘Of course I did,’ Lily said gloomily, ‘she said that it doesn’t mean anything and she wasn’t willing to go slinging accusations not when Slughorn gave them permission to get it out of the library.’

‘So he doesn’t know what they’re up to then,’ James said.

‘Well they were hardly going to tell him what they really wanted it for were they,’ Remus reasoned.

‘Can’t blame him though can we?’ Daisy grumbled, ‘I mean he might not know anything but neither do we.’

A wave of uneasiness ran through the group as she spoke. Granted she had a point given that since overhearing the Slytherins talking about the attack and getting the book they had made no steps further forward. Even when the majority of them had stayed in the castle, watching Snape and Crouch skulk around the halls with smug smiles on their faces at every turn, they hadn’t got anything tangible. That was why Daisy hadn’t been able to protest her sister going to McGonagall especially since she’d been lenient enough to give them a few more weeks than promised before telling. Of course Daisy had known it would be fruitless but still she had hoped that the teachers would be able to do something, or at least more than eight sixth years could.

‘Are you sure she won’t do anything?’ Peter asked, genuine worry in his voice.

‘I wouldn’t bet on it,’ Lily said.

‘So we’re stuck waiting then,’ Sirius sighed.

‘Yeah waiting for whatever it is they’re going to do,’ James added glumly.

‘They have been quiet though,’ Peter reasoned.

‘That’s not a good sign I’d bet,’ Remus grumbled.

‘No, you’re right,’ James said, ‘but maybe they’re quiet because they’re stuck without the book.’

‘Which we’re going to have to return now that McGonagall knows it’s missing from the library,’ Remus added.

‘Well then,’ James said, trying to inject some positivity into the expressions of his forlorn friends, ‘let’s just hope the thick gits didn’t manage to do anything more without it.’

After the disappointing revelation regarding McGonagall the group chatted a bit more about the prospects of what the Slytherins were still up to before they were forced to change the topic as members of the defence club started to arrive in dribs and drabs. After the muggle attack in London the club had grown quite a bit but as fears started to wane people started to lose interest, leaving the club at a lower but respectable number.

One member who had stuck around though, much to everyone’s surprise, was Penelope Fulton. Of course Daisy didn’t blame her, the worry all muggleborns had been feeling was understandable but she couldn’t deny it was a little awkward. Especially given that she was reluctant to mix, her and her friends keeping to themselves, well until Sirius was around, a familiar face for her to go to. And trying to remain the cool and understanding girlfriend Daisy hadn’t found it in her to stop their little alliance. Which was why she was standing across the room, subtly watching her boyfriend as he adjusted Penelope’s wand technique so that she could get a proper flick to the charm they’d been focused on all lesson.

‘Well done,’ Sirius said as Penelope finished firing the jinx, slowing her brother who was running towards her at speed down in an instant. As he came to, his legs getting quicker before slowing to a stop, she watched on, pleased with herself.

‘Thanks,’ she said meekly, ‘I feel like I don’t know what I’m doing today.’

‘Nonsense,’ Sirius said, ‘you’ve done amazing.’

‘I’m surprised I remember what to do it feels like ages since the last meeting,’ she said.

‘Yeah Easter really put a dent in the momentum,’ he agreed.

‘Didn’t you practice?’ she asked, sweeping her long locks back from her face as she looked at him, ‘I mean you stayed in the castle right?’

‘What? Oh yeah but we were busy a lot of the time,’ Sirius lied, trying to hide the smile on his lips as he thought about the previous two weeks he’d spent in the castle with the boys, Daisy and Lily. They had been busy but it was mostly trying to hoodwink the girl’s staircase, a feat Lily had been steadfastly against until the fourth time she and James were interrupted.

‘You and Daisy, right?’ she asked, her steely blue eyes dropping away shyly. Sirius was taken off guard, the awkwardness palpable as he cleared his throat and mumbled, ‘uh yeah.’

‘How’s it going between you two?’ she asked after a beat, taking him further by surprise, something that must’ve been readable on his face as she frowned and said, ‘what am I not allowed to ask?’

‘Of course you are,’ Sirius protested, ‘I just didn’t think you’d want to know.’

‘Well we were friends,’ Penelope reasoned.

‘Yeah we were, we are,’ he corrected, ‘um…things are good thanks.’

‘I expect it’s hard for her,’ she said, looking towards Daisy who was oblivious to them watching her, too focused on hexing James first in whatever duel they were participating in as Remus umpired. Sirius frowned, ‘hard?’

‘I heard about her parents,’ she explained, making Sirius’ mouth go dry, ‘I expect it was better for her to stay in the castle.’

‘Yeah,’ Sirius mumbled, swallowing thickly. If anything he hadn’t really thought about that side of things, not really. When they’d talked about going home they’d all opted to stay in because of the mountains of school work but as he glanced to where she was, lauding her triumph over a pouting James, he wondered for a split second if she had thought of any other reasons. His wondering was cut short though as Penelope continued.

‘I suppose it’s not too bad though she can always come and visit you at your house,’ Penelope said earning a snort. At his reaction her eyes dimmed, uncertainty dancing across her features which he noticed immediately venturing to explain as he said, ‘well yeah she can but I don’t live at home, not anymore.’

‘Really?’ she asked intrigued, ‘where do you live then?’

‘With the Potters,’ Sirius explained.

‘Oh, that’s…nice I guess,’ she said, ‘don’t you have a brother though? What’s his name-’

‘Regulus,’ Sirius finished, ‘yeah.’

‘Don’t you get on?’ she probed, genuine intrigue in her eyes. Sirius shrugged.

‘Hard to get on with someone intent on despising everything I’m about,’ he explained, though as her face fell he felt worry and nerves fill his stomach. There was an unexpected sadness behind her eyes and he could tell she had more questions and no doubt would’ve asked him them if he’d let her, except he pulled away, clearing his throat as he said, ‘fancy a drink? I’m thirsty.’

And before she could answer he walked away towards the table full of refreshments and chugged down a goblet full of water in one hoping she didn’t come for more answers.

✵✵✵

Daisy had sensed something was wrong. She’d continued to leave Sirius be, opting to duel with her friends rather than him whilst he helped Penelope and co, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t noticed how he stayed on the fringes of their group, tense and aloof. He looked awkward, as if he wanted nothing more than to join her and his friends but couldn’t. She hadn’t gone to him though, determined not to look like a clingy girlfriend, instead opting to wait until he came to her, the distinct feeling something was off in her stomach. That feeling grew deeper as he came up behind her, his arm around her waist as he pressed a kiss into her temple. The room was nearly empty now, only their friends present which she assumed was the reason he felt comfortable to be so affectionate.

‘Hey,’ he mumbled, watching as she tipped the unused biscuits back into the tin they’d snagged from the kitchens.

‘Hi,’ Daisy smiled, stroking the side of his face before she turned around to look at him, ‘you okay?’

‘Yeah,’ he nodded, ‘but kinda wanna get out of here. Wanna come?’

‘Yeah,’ she smiled, ‘Lil?’

‘Yeah?’ Lily said, looking up from where she was tidying cushions away the moment her sister called her.

‘Are you lot gonna be okay to finish up here?’ she asked. Lily looked between them and noting her sister’s pleading eyes she nodded, ‘yeah course.’

‘Thanks,’ Daisy said, turning back to push the tin further onto the table before she took Sirius’ hand in hers and headed out the attic.

He was quiet on the way down to the corridor, his thumb tracing over the back of her hand nervously, which was why she was taken by surprise when he pulled her into a broom closet, his lips attacking hers the moment the door closed. It took her a moment to respond but once she did she melted into him, allowing him to kiss her until he pulled back breathless.

‘Hi,’ Daisy panted, a smile dancing across her lips as she pushed a strand of hair back from his face.

‘Hey,’ he muttered, pressing another chaste kiss to her lips.

‘You okay?’ she asked. Sirius sighed and moved to sit on storage box, pulling her to sit on his lap, ‘you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.’

‘It’s nothing,’ Sirius mumbled, fiddling with the loop on her jeans, ‘it’s just well Penny.’

‘Yeah?’ Daisy asked as casually as she could muster.

‘Yeah,’ Sirius said.

‘What about her?’ she asked.

‘Well we were just talking,’ Sirius said.

‘I thought you looked cosy,’ Daisy said, her words coming out before she had chance to stop them. At her tone Sirius looked up at her disapprovingly earning a meek, ‘sorry.’

‘It’s okay we were talking about us if you must know,’ he said.

‘Really?’ she asked, panic flooding her as she wondered what Penelope had said, the questions or accusations she must’ve had to get him like this.

‘Yeah nothing bad just more interested than I would’ve thought,’ Sirius admitted.

‘You don’t think she still,’ Daisy paused, unable to offer the words ‘likes you’ just in case uttering them might make them true.

‘No, it wasn’t jealous girl stuff.’

‘Like me when you were with Penny,’ Daisy mused making Sirius smile wryly.

‘Yeah nothing like that,’ he teased.

They fell quiet for a moment the only thing to be heard their joint breathing and the sounds of footsteps somewhere near the end of the hall, no doubt their friends heading back to Gryffindor tower. After a moment Daisy decided to be brave, to broach the uneasiness.

‘Is that what got you,’ she paused, swallowing nervously as dark grey eyes met hers, ‘well somethings up.’

‘No it wasn’t her… it was Reg,’ Sirius admitted, his heart warmed by how well she knew him.

‘What about him?’ Daisy questioned; her brow furrowed.

‘Penny was asking me about him, well us first, wondering why we’d stayed in the castle and if we were going home for summer and I said I was headed to the Potters so she got curious,’ he explained.

‘What does that have to do with Regulus?’ she asked.

‘She didn’t know I didn’t live at home anymore. In fact she seemed upset by it though I don’t know why,’ he murmured. Daisy placed her hand on his neck, her thumb ghosting along the pale planes of his jaw as she said, ‘are you upset by it?’

‘Yeah, yeah I think I was,’ he admitted looking back at her, ‘I meant she’s the first person outside you lot I think even knows about what happened last summer.’

‘That’s because it’s no one’s business,’ Daisy said, thankful that the rumour mill had been too preoccupied with who was dating who to go into the tragic backstory of the Black brothers, given that she and Lily hadn’t fared so well with their own tragedy.

‘I know and I know what I said about the boys being my brothers and they are but I guess it’s just sad you know. To see he’s heading down a path I can’t stop him from going down.’

‘Maybe he’ll see one day,’ she reasoned. Sirius smiled at her but it was sad, his words lacking conviction as he replied, ‘maybe but if not what can you do?’

‘Yeah true,’ she said, trying to convince herself just as much as she was, ‘you’ve always got me though. The boys too.’

‘That’s what’s sad I think,’ Sirius said, explaining as Daisy looked at him inquisitively, ‘because as friendly as he is with Snape or Crouch I can’t see them being like us. And I know they prefer him but it’s not as though my parents are the warmest people to be around. I guess I just feel sorry that he doesn’t have a home like me.’

‘Yeah a home with a gazillion rooms and Euphemia fawning over you day in day out,’ Daisy teased.

‘Nah, home is wherever you are,’ he said, pressing a quick kiss to her nose before he shifted and said, ‘come on they’ll be wondering where we’ve snuck off to.’

With that he stood, sliding her off his knee until the were both standing. Daisy was in a daze as she got upright, barely clocking him scouting through a crack in the door whether it was safe to go outside, and as they headed back to the common room Daisy went quiet, her mind on Sirius’ words. She felt the same, to her he was home. Her friends were home. Hogwarts was home. Which is probably why the thought of going back to her real home, her muggle home, scared her. She knew she could at any time, that the house was there for as long as she or Lily wanted it but thinking about it now felt odd. Like it was no longer her home.

She just wondered how she was going to explain that.

✵✵✵

Over the next few days Daisy found herself mulling over what Sirius had said. She knew it was silly, that the Potters had told her that the house was to do with as her and her sister saw fit, but she couldn’t deny the uneasiness she felt about telling them that she might not want it anymore. That her tantrums and hissy fits may have been in vein. She was dwelling on it when she headed down to breakfast Sunday morning, so lost in her thoughts that she collided straight into someone coming from the great hall. As she looked up dazed she found James looking down at her, a grin on his face. Daisy pulled back bashfully and muttered, ‘sorry Prongs.’

‘It’s okay,’ he said pushing his glasses up his nose, ‘you looked like you were in a world of your own there Dais.’

‘Guess I was,’ she said meekly. James paused, looking as though he was going to ask her what was the matter but she recovered quickly, pushing her daydreaming away as she asked, ‘where you going?

‘I was just headed down to the quidditch pitch,’ he said making Daisy realise she had truly been in a world of her own given she hadn’t noticed he was in his full kit.

‘Oh right on your own?’ she asked.

‘Yeah I’ve got stuff to sort out before the match so I said they might as well stay here until everyone heads down,’ he explained, gesturing to great hall where she could see her friends congregated around a table at the far end. Daisy paused before she looked up and said, ‘can I come with you?’

‘To the pitch?’ James asked, earning a nod, ‘sure…don’t you want breakfast though?’

‘I’m not hungry,’ Daisy lied, heading towards the door with a sceptical James on her tail.

On the way down to the pitch Daisy tried to make small talk but it was hard, her responses growing shorter the more she became lost in her thoughts again. She tried not to, after all the entire reason for not going to the great hall was that she was sure Lily or Sirius would be able to sniff out there was something amiss with her, but she couldn’t help herself. And soon enough James realised it too, glancing across at her before he cleared his throat and said, ‘so go on.’

‘Huh?’ Daisy said, turning her gaze from the lake she’d been staring at, the steady flow of water soothing to her frazzled brain.

‘What are you thinking about?’ he asked, a reassuring smile on his face. And though she knew it was unfair to, she couldn’t help herself, electing to respond to his genuine concern with torment as she replied, ‘how much I used to fancy you.’

‘Bloody hell Dais,’ James gawped, his eyes widening which made her giggle.

‘Your face!’ she chuckled, ‘don’t worry I don’t anymore.’

‘I should bloody hope not,’ he grinned, joining in with her laughter as the shock evidently started to wear off.

‘Nah I’m not as stupid as I used to be,’ she teased.

‘And Pads is an upgrade?’ he ribbed, making her smile though it dimmed as he said, ‘so go on, what got you thinking about that?

‘I don’t know guess I’ve just been thinking about how good of a friend you are,’ she admitted.

‘Daisy,’ he replied bashfully, pink tinging his face as he looked away.

At his hesitance Daisy felt something stir inside her because the truth was James was a great friend. Like his parents he was thoughtful, kind and loving. She truly couldn’t ask for anything more and without warning she found herself telling him that, ‘it’s true. James you are an amazing friend. Not just to me to everyone. Sirius, Rem, Peter. We’re so lucky to have you and I mean you’re a great boyfriend, better than by Vermin that’s for sure.’

‘That’s not hard by all accounts,’ James said, the shyness still present in his voice.

‘Well true, but I mean it. You’re such a good friend and well we don’t deserve you half the time, I don’t.’

‘Of course you do,’ he said, shoving her playfully but she stopped. Stock still in the middle of the track down to the pitch, forcing him to stop too.

‘No I don’t. I mean definitely not in the beginning. I was so wrapped up in you liking Lily and not me I was horrible to you-’

‘You had your reasons,’ James sighed.

‘Not good ones though. I was so bent out of shape about it I wanted you expelled! So much so I nearly got myself killed,’ Daisy ranted, ‘if it wasn’t for you and Sirius I’d be dead. And then you just let me into this group. You forgot every mean thing I’d said and did and let me be your friend. You put up with all mine and Sirius’ pining-’

‘Pads was more annoying to be honest,’ he teased, feeling uncomfortable with the sentimentality of it all. Daisy didn’t even seem to notice just how complimentary she was being, her thoughts over the last few days coming to the surface.

‘And your mum and dad god,’ she said guiltily, ‘the way they went out of their way to help us. Sirius too, I mean they’ve shown us more kindness that we deserve.’

‘You deserve it Dais,’ James frowned, her ranting making him nervous.

‘Prongs they bought our house!’ she scoffed.

‘Is that what this is about?’ he asked. Daisy sighed, dropping her gaze to the floor, watching as her toe nudged an errant twig along the grassy path. She’d done it now. She’d let her worries come to the surface surprisingly quick and it wasn’t as though she would be able to brush him off. If he didn’t harass her into talking he’d only tell Lily or Sirius.

‘I just feel guilty is all because,’ she said, risking a glance at him as she continued, ‘well because I’m not sure I want it anymore.’

‘What do you mean?’ he asked.

‘It’s just I’ve been worried that if I go home in summer it won’t feel like home anymore.’

‘Because your mum and dad aren’t there you mean?’ James probed quietly.

‘Yeah, well kind of, I mean I know it’s gonna be different without mum and dad but it’s because well because home isn’t a house. It’s you lot, wherever you guys are and I don’t want to try and force my house to be a home when it’s not but your mum and dad fought so hard for us and they’ve done so much I don’t want them to think I’m ungrateful.’

‘Dais they won’t care,’ James sighed, moving to pull her into his side as she mumbled, ‘Prongs.’

‘They won’t,’ he reiterated as she tucked into his side, tears stinging at her eyes. That was the problem with those damn Potters. Too caring for their own good. After a moment he pulled back so he could see her, smiling as she smiled at him meekly.

‘I mean it Dais. They won’t care. If anything they’ll probably be thrilled if you girls want to come for the summer, I’m sure they prefer you two to me and Pads anyway,’ he joked making her chuckle, ‘but I’m sure as long as you’re happy they won’t mind.’

‘How can you be sure?’ she asked hesitantly.

‘Dais you just described me and the boys as your home,’ he said, ‘how could they be mad about that?’

‘You’re sure?’ Daisy replied.

‘To be honest it’s all they’ve ever wanted for me I think,’ he admitted. Daisy watched as his mind went somewhere else, his own hesitance creeping in as he started them walking again, whatever he was going to say weighing on his mind. But just as Daisy had, he decided to tell her anyway.

‘I had a brother you know,’ he said, after they were about three yards from where they’d stopped. Daisy’s eyes had been on the path ahead but they flew to him as he made his confession, finding his own gaze staring out ahead.

‘Really?’ she asked, watching every wistfulness flicker across his face.

‘Yeah, Thomas,’ he said, ‘I never met him, it was a long time ago and he died before I was born.’

‘James I’m so sorry,’ Daisy said, her own grief swirling inside her as she thought of Euphemia and Fleamont having to bury their boy. Forced to carry on when their world had fallen apart. James looked towards her, offering her a sad smile and a gentle shrug of thanks.

‘Yeah,’ he said after a beat, ‘mum and dad, well, I can’t say they got over it but they had me and I suppose it got easier but I think deep down they always wanted a big family. They just didn’t feel ready and by the time I came along it was too late really.’

‘That’s a shame,’ Daisy said. James chuckled, ‘not really I think they got the family they wanted even if it all came in one fell swoop.’

‘What do you mean?’ Daisy asked.

‘We’re family you muppet,’ he teased, making her blush, ‘that’s why the price of a house is nothing if it allows my mother to continue in her favourite past time – worrying about everything my friends are and aren’t doing.’

‘Don’t be mean,’ Daisy mused, shoving him gently which made him laugh.

‘Nah I know we’re lucky to have her,’ he smiled, ‘but seriously she’s not gonna care about whatever you decide as long as you’re happy about it.’

‘Hope so,’ Daisy said.

James went quiet for a moment, obviously thinking over what he was going to say next which is why Daisy braced herself, wondering what he was cooking up under that unruly mop of hair. After a beat he cleared his throat and asked, ‘have you told Lil?’

‘No,’ Daisy admitted, ‘not yet anyway I didn’t know how she’d feel about it. Especially given how much I kicked off about it. I made her life hell.’

‘She was just worried about you,’ James said earnestly. Daisy smiled.

‘True but she didn’t need to be did she,’ she mused.

‘Why not?’ he replied curiously.

‘Because I’ve got you haven’t I?’ she smiled, ‘my own little brother.’

‘Oh shut up,’ he said rolling his eyes. Daisy chuckled.

‘I mean it,’ she teased, ‘I’ve never been a big sister before. I might like this.’

‘Does this mean we’re some weird, intermingled family then? Because I’d consider Pads my brother,’ he chuckled.

‘How pureblood of us,’ Daisy teased.

‘Oh stop it,’ James said, walking away from her and towards the door of the Gryffindor changing rooms which they were now near. Daisy skipped behind him, glee in her eyes as she continued her teasing, ‘can’t deny it. We just need to marry Rem off to one of your cousins or something. Get Peter together with an aunt and bam one jumbled up pureblood mess.’

‘You say this like muggles can’t be just as weird,’ James said, but as he turned away he paused, a curious look on his face.

‘What is it?’ Daisy said as she came up behind him, unable to see why he’d stopped.

‘The doors open,’ he said.

‘So?’ Daisy replied.

‘So I have the key,’ James said, pulling an old rusty metal key from his pocket, ‘McGonagall gave it me to open up the changing rooms since it was so early.’

‘Maybe Filch came down first or something,’ Daisy reasoned but as she spoke they heard a clatter from inside, tense whispers following it after.

‘What was that?’ James asked, moving his head towards the slightly ajar door so that he could listen.

‘What is it?’ Daisy whispered as James mouth went into a tight line.

‘Crouch.’

James didn’t wait, pushing through the door quietly until he was inside the changing room with Daisy close behind him, her hand on the back of his Quidditch robes. Given that the stands were deserted it was quiet inside bar from the sound of two distinct voices squabbling from deeper into the room.

‘Give it here! You’re going to spill it all!’ Crouch grunted, the distinct sound of shoving following closely after.

‘I know what I’m doing,’ Mulciber grumbled, ‘you don’t have to be such a control freak.’

‘We wouldn’t be doing this without me so shut your face,’ Crouch replied.

‘Yeah well then if it goes wrong it’s your fault,’ Mulciber replied. As he spoke James crept forward, looking around one of the tall-back benches to see what they were up to. They were standing where all the equipment was held yet there wasn’t anything out. The brooms were still locked away in their cupboard and the trunk of quidditch balls was sitting behind them undisturbed. No, the only thing that they had access to was a tray full of bottles, the ones that were used by each member of the team to rehydrate through a long slog of a game, and into each and every one they were pouring a potion, runny and glistening as it trickled into the open bottle.

‘What’s that?’ Daisy whispered, earning a quieting glare from James.

‘Do you think that’s enough?’ Crouch said, lifting the bottle up to his eyeline.

‘I don’t know,’ Mulciber said, ‘how much did it say to put in per bottle.’

‘I don’t know,’ Crouch said, ‘but I don’t think there’s enough potion for all seven.’

‘Well as long as that Potter has one that’ll be enough for me,’ Mulciber grunted.

‘Yeah well I’d rather a couple mudbloods than a blood traitor merlin knows they were destined to be splattered along the floor,’ Crouch sneered.

‘Put it down,’ James’ voice rang out and as Daisy looked to where he’d been standing she found him no longer there, striding towards a startled Crouch and Mulciber.

‘Or what Potter?’ Mulciber sneered, recovering quickly from the interruption.

‘Or I hex you,’ James said.

‘Ooh I’m so scared,’ Crouch said rolling his eyes.

‘You should be,’ Daisy said, appearing from around the corner and going to James’ side.

‘Of what a mudblood and a blood traitor?’ Crouch sneered.

‘You’ve already lost you idiot. Whatever you planned to do you’re never going to be able to do now,’ Daisy reasoned.

‘Maybe,’ Crouch said, coming towards them, ‘lucky for us I can do enough damage to a blood traitor and a filthy little mudblood all on my own then-’

But he was cut off as James leapt forward, his fist connecting to the other boy’s jaw with an uneasy crunch.

‘James!’ Daisy squealed as her friend was took pulled down to the floor, Crouch evidently not out of it enough not to think of grabbing him by the shirt, the bottle he’d been holding collateral damage as it slipped from his grip and hit the wooden floor, splintering into glass fragments. James tumbled down but recovered quickly, laying another punch as the pair got into a brawl. Daisy watched, unable to do anything, until she noticed Mulciber trying to sneak away with the bottles of tainted water in hand.

‘Stupify!’ she said as she pulled her wand out causing the spell to hit him square in the back, the tray of bottles he had been holding hitting the ground with a clatter as they rolled around on the wooden floor. Daisy rushed forward to grab them, the tainted bottle leaking out onto the wood and down through the slats to the covered grass below. She was just about there with her hand on the bottle when she tripped, barely having time to break the fall with her arms before she hit the deck. As she rolled over painfully winded she found the cause of her fall coming towards her, Mulciber’s grip that had been on her ankle breaking loose as he headed for the bottle now rolling away out of her reach. As she scrambled to get it he grabbed hold of her, yanking on her leg with a grip so tight she thought her ankle might snap. The bottle was just out of reach, her fingertips grazing it as it continued to roll out of her way, but she was determined and so with an almighty thrust she used the leg not in Mulciber’s grasp to boot him square the nose. He released her in an instant, wailing in agony as blood started rushing from his misshapen nose, but as she clambered forward she found not only was the bottle empty but a pair of pointed leather boots standing just in front of her face, visible under a mass of emerald-green robes.

‘What on earth is going on here?’ McGonagall’s shrill bark echoed as she looked up from where she was still laying. McGonagall was standing in front of her, Professor Slughorn just behind her, only he didn’t look as thunderous as she did. Her beady eyes were fixated on Daisy for a moment, her mouth in a tight line, before her disapproving glare went to the boys as she flourished her wand, forcing them apart and onto their feet. Daisy scrambled to join them, rushing to James. He looked a damn sight better than Mulciber, whose wailing had not ceased but quietened, but he did have a busted lip and his glasses were broken and misshapen so much so he took them off a slid them into his pocket. Crouch did nothing but glare at them.

‘Professor,’ Daisy started, determined to get her teacher to see their side of the story before she weighed in but McGonagall had other ideas.

‘Fist fighting! Hexing one another! Kicking one another! I’ve never known such animalistic behaviour from any of my students-’

‘They were poising the team,’ Daisy interjected, unable to wait for her telling off to explain herself. Because whilst their actions weren’t exactly admirable they were justified. McGonagall stopped ranting, her eyes falling solely on Daisy as she composed herself and said, ‘that is a very serious allegation Miss Evans.’

‘It’s true Professor,’ James confirmed grimly.

‘It was a prank,’ Barty retaliated.

‘Bollocks,’ James scoffed.

‘Mr Potter,’ McGonagall warned, causing James to fall silent, his face brooding as McGonagall turned her attention to the other boys and said, ‘Now, Mr Crouch, Mr Mulciber can you explain what you were doing here in the Gryffindor changing rooms where you have no business of being?’

‘We were doing a prank professor,’ Crouch lied, a glint in his eyes as he glanced at a seething James and Daisy, ‘laxatives in the Gryffindor teams water bottles. You know to make them-’

‘Yes thank you Barty we get the picture,’ Professor Slughorn interjected.

‘Yes thank you,’ McGonagall repeated calmly. At that Daisy felt anger stir within her, bubbling to the surface as she baulked, ‘Professor surely you don’t believe them.’

‘Miss Evans,’ she sighed.

‘They were poising them! We heard them say it! Saw them pouring into the bottles-’

‘And where is this poison?’ McGonagall questioned, causing everyone’s eyes to dart to the empty bottle by her feet and then the smashed bottle of poison which had clattered to the floor when James and Barty went down. Though her words were polite McGonagall’s disapproval rang out as she said, ‘yes well maybe if you hadn’t been so rash Professor Slughorn and I would’ve been able to prove who was telling the truth. For now we have to go off of word alone.’

‘But you’ve already had our word! You’ve already been told this, it’s just like Lily was saying, they had the book from the restricted section and they’ve been planning an attack for weeks! This poison was going to knock people off their brooms, people could be killed-’

‘Dais,’ James said softly, worrying at how worked up she was becoming.

‘No! No!’ she snapped yanking her arm from where he’d gripped as she went towards McGonagall, ‘you can’t look past this Professor. That’s what you’re doing, that’s what you’re all doing and it’s ridiculous!

‘Miss Evans,’ Slughorn said, echoing James tone though she was not speaking to him but rather McGonagall who had remained stoic and cold as she ranted at her.

‘Of course you’re not going to do anything,’ Daisy scoffed, ‘no you’re going to wait until someone gets hurt or killed like bloody Moaning Myrtle because you’re too busy burying your heads in the sand-’

‘Miss Evans that’s quite enough,’ McGonagall said firmly.

With that Daisy fell silent, her anger bubbling away inside her, no more so as McGonagall looked away from her, addressing Slughorn as she said, ‘Professor Slughorn, could you please escort your members of Slytherin house back to the castle.’

‘Of course Minerva,’ Slughorn said obediently.

‘I don’t doubt you can punish them as you see fit,’ McGonagall added.

‘Yes of course,’ Slughorn nodded before his gaze fell on the two Slytherins as he said, ‘come on you two.’

Daisy watched as Crouch and Mulciber slinked out the other door, smug grins on their faces as James and Daisy glared at them. Only when she heard the distinct clink of the closing door did she look at McGonagall, her anger returning though she tried to keep calm as she said, ‘Professor you have to believe us. You can’t let them get away with this.’

‘Daisy I want to believe you, I do,’ McGonagall sighed, ‘but you can’t keep getting into situations like this and leaving me with no choice.’

‘You could choose to take our side!’ Daisy protested.

‘It’s not about sides silly girl! It’s about keeping you all safe!’ McGonagall said shrilly, her mask slipping for the first time since she’d arrived. Daisy knew it was unfair to press, especially with her showing something resembling compassion but she had to make her listen somehow and challenged, ‘and if the Gryffindor team falls to their deaths then they’ll be safe?’

‘Daisy,’ McGonagall sighed.

‘She’s got a point professor,’ James said, appearing at Daisy’s side, ‘I know you’re not stupid enough not to see what they’re doing. And ignoring it-’

‘I’m not ignoring anything! I’m trying to prolong the inevitable,’ McGonagall said.

‘The inevitable-’ Daisy started but McGonagall cut her off.

‘I will not discuss this further,’ she said firmly, all traces of humanity gone as she tried to save face. To be the teacher again.

‘But-’ the pair of them protested.

‘The pair of you will return to the castle where you will go to my office,’ McGonagall said, not looking at them as she smoothed out her robes, ‘we will discuss your detentions once I get there but in the meantime seventy-five house points will be deducted from Gryffindor.’

‘But professor the match-’James replied.

‘I’m sure Mr Black could be an adequate replacement for one game. I shall inform him,’ she said, ‘now, away you go.’

Sensing there was no point in arguing Daisy stalked off, a glare on her face as she headed out into the spring sunshine, something that did nothing to alleviate her mood. She was walking quickly, fast enough that even James seemed to be having trouble keeping up even though he was quite a bit taller than her.

‘Dais,’ he said as he nearly caught up, his hand just out of reach of her shoulder when she didn’t slow down.

‘I can’t believe her!’ Daisy shouted.

‘Dais slow down,’ James reiterated, his pleas falling on deaf ears.

‘How can she take their side!’ Daisy added. Fortunately he was close enough to reach her now, earning himself a scowl as he grabbed her shoulder and forced her to turn around.

‘I know but did you see her face?’ he asked, sympathy on his handsome features as he said, ‘she looked scared for us.’

‘I know,’ Daisy said, unable to hide the frustration from her voice as she asked, ‘but how can she believe them?’

‘I don’t think she does but what choice does she have. Besides it’s my fault for knocking the potion out of Crouch’s hand,’ James said irritably.

‘He deserved it,’ Daisy muttered.

‘Definitely,’ he agreed, ‘but look there’s no point dwelling on that now, we’ll have plenty chance to in detention. C’mon before she slaps another week on for dawdling.’’

✵✵✵

Daisy was exhausted. After they’d headed back to the castle they’d waited for McGonagall who’d come in just as stony faced as before, leaving no room for discussion as she informed them they had a weeks’ worth of detention. A week that had started today with the pair of them sitting in an old classroom under Filch’s watchful eye as they wrote lines for two hours. It was an arduous task, one that seemed futile once they’d handed their papers over to Filch who didn’t check either of them, probably unable to read it. And yet even with her frustration and anger still bubbling away she found she didn’t have the energy she’d had at the pitch, barely offering James an ounce of conversation as they grabbed something to eat from the kitchens, which was probably why he’d opted to head to the attic where he could read his magazine instead of forcing chit chat. Daisy allowed him to, though she didn’t shut him out completely, opting to place her head in his lap which had earnt her a smile from the boy before he went back to his reading.

They were still lay like that, Daisy’s eyes closed as James told her about a new broom soon to come on the market, when the door burst open, their friends rushing inside. Sirius was the first to them, barely giving her time to sit up before he said, ‘where the hell have you two been?’

‘Detention,’ James said grimly, folding his magazine and throwing it on the coffee table.

‘Detention?!’ Lily asked, perching on the sofa arm as she looked down at him with worry. Marlene, Remus and Peter took seats on the other sofas whilst Sirius took a seat next to Daisy.

‘What for?’ Sirius asked, looking between the pair.

‘McGonagall didn’t tell you?’ Daisy frowned.

‘No,’ Sirius said, ‘she just came into the great hall and told me I’d be filling in for James-’

‘How did we do?’ James asked.

‘We won,’ Peter said, happiness dancing across his features though he knew now wasn’t the time for that.

‘Never mind that,’ Lily said proving Peter’s theory that remaining quiet was the best route, ‘what happened? I mean Dais you weren’t at breakfast.’

‘We had no idea what was going on,’ Sirius said and though he was calm and collected Daisy could see the worry present behind his eyes growing deeper as James said, ‘Crouch and Mulciber that’s what.’

After that there was no point holding back given that worried faces were watching them and so James broke into the tale of everything that had happened. Surprisingly people allowed him to, not interrupting or interjecting with questions right until James had explained how McGonagall had caught them fighting.

‘A fight? Like a fist fight?’ Marlene said.

‘Yeah,’ James said, offering his broken glasses as evidence. Lily took them from him and flourished her wand causing them to repair in an instant.

‘And here I was thinking we were learning all these tactics to stop us getting physical,’ she teased making him chuckle.

‘Sometimes it’s whatever you’ve got at hand,’ James said sliding his freshly repaired glasses on.

‘Yeah your fists,’ Peter chuckled.

‘Was it bad?’ Lily asked, trying not to sound too overly concerned.

‘No, it was mostly us rolling about on the floor,’ he admitted, placing a hand on her knee, ‘Dais was the fighter if anything. She broke Mulciber’s nose.’

‘What?!’ Lily gasped.

‘How?’ Sirius asked.

‘Kicked him square in the face cos the stupid git wouldn’t let go of me. Fat lot of good it did anyway,’ she grumbled, though she couldn’t help but smirk as Sirius’ made an impressed smirk.

‘Why?’ Remus asked.

‘Because after all that we couldn’t prove what they’d done,’ Daisy answered.

‘The potion got spilled,’ James explained, ‘and without that-’

‘McGonagall wouldn’t believe you,’ Remus finished earning glum nods from the pair.

‘So what happened after that?’ Marlene asked.

‘She shipped us off back to the castle for detention of which we have another week of,’ Daisy grumbled.

‘Great,’ Lily sighed, ‘what did the Slytherins get?’

‘Probably a pat on the back and a kiss on the cuts and bruises from Madam Pomfrey,’ James said grimly.

‘And here I was thinking she only did that for me,’ Remus quipped earning a half-hearted chuckle from them all. But Daisy still didn’t feel like laughing, in fact, she was surprised she’d managed to talk as much as she did, wanting nothing more than for everyone to leave her alone, well perhaps everyone but Sirius.

‘It’s ridiculous,’ James said shaking his head.

‘Maybe but at least they couldn’t do what they wanted to,’ Peter reasoned.

‘Yeah,’ Lily said, surprisingly upbeat, ‘you saved a life today.’

‘Lives,’ Marlene corrected.

‘So why does it feel so rubbish?’ Daisy reasoned.

‘Well it’s not the best granted,’ Remus said, ‘but this is what we’ve wanted to do and even if we couldn’t get rid of them or make everyone know it’s something.’

‘Yeah and there’s one hope Dais,’ James reasoned, making her glance towards him. As her brow furrowed she said, ‘yeah what’s that?’

‘McGonagall at least seemed a tiny bit sorry for not being able to do anything to help,’ James answered.

‘Really?’ Sirius asked.

‘Yeah, in fact she actually seemed guilty but that was probably given how badly Dais went off at her,’ James reasoned.

‘Daisy!’ Lily chastised.

‘She deserved it!’ Daisy protested, sinking back into settee, ‘but Prongs is right she did seem worried like it’s not just in school fighting she wants to keep us out of all of it.’

‘Yeah well if they’re going to be doing you know who’s bidding on school grounds what choice do we have,’ Sirius grumbled.

‘At least they’ve stopped,’ Marlene reasoned.

‘Yeah, at least their plan failed right?’ Remus reasoned.

‘Right,’ Daisy said, though that didn’t stop them all from sharing an uncertain look.

After the debrief most of them elected to head downstairs for dinner given that they’d come straight to the attic once they’d finished at the match. Having eaten Daisy elected to stay upstairs and unsurprisingly so did Sirius though she was sure he was probably ravenous after playing a full game. She didn’t protest though, her hesitance for being in his company now gone after her talk with James. Once they were gone Sirius locked the door and put a record on, sinking into the chair by the record player before beckoning Daisy over. She was still tired and a bit miffed at having to move from her comfortable spot, but the makeshift seat of his lap was too much to resist and so she walked over, and clambered onto him, nestling her head in his neck as he held her.

‘Hey,’ he murmured into her forehead after a moment of just listening to the record player.

‘Hey,’ she said, pulling back to look at him, her hand over his heart.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked, the concern from before back and more evident now he didn’t have tone it down.

‘As good as expected,’ she shrugged.

‘Yeah I bet though by all accounts you came out unscathed,’ he said, twirling the ends of her long blonde locks around his fingers as his hand held her up, ‘and here I was thinking you were a healer not a fighter.’

‘Well I am until it needs someone to fight besides you wouldn’t want me to sit idly by would you? Even if did get me detention,’ Daisy reasoned.

‘True,’ he smirked, ‘and detentions probably a good thing anyway.’

‘How do you figure?’ she asked.

‘Well it’ll give you ample opportunity to keep avoiding me and Lil,’ he reasoned halting her as she rolled her eyes and straightened up, ‘don’t deny it.’

‘I’ve just been thinking,’ she admitted.

‘I figured,’ he said, gesturing for her to nestle back into him which she did obediently. They were quiet for a moment, the only thing to be heard the record player and their breathing until he said, ‘what’ve you been thinking about?’

‘Home,’ Daisy admitted. She couldn’t see him now, her gaze fixed on where his hand was laying on the arm of sofa, a silver signet ring glinting in the lamplight, but she felt him turn his head slightly no doubt glancing down on her curiously.

‘What about it?’ Sirius asked quietly.

‘I don’t know if I want to go back there,’ she admitted, ‘my house I mean.’

‘Why not?’ he asked.

‘Because it’s not my home. Not anymore, like you said it’s wherever you and me are and I just don’t want to force my house to be a home when it might not feel like that.’

‘Okay,’ Sirius said somewhat confused, ‘and you thought I wouldn’t want you to spend more time with you?’

‘No,’ she said pulling back to look at him, ‘it wasn’t you I was worried about.’

‘So why avoid me?’ he asked genuinely curious.

‘Because I know you,’ she smirked, ‘I needed time to think about it and you can get me to spill anything.’

‘Must be part of my charm,’ he quipped, ‘but I understand but if you weren’t worried about me who were you worried about?’

‘Lil,’ she said biting her lip, ‘and Monty and Eupehmia.’

‘Oh babe they won’t care. It’s just a house,’ he reasoned.

‘That’s what James said. He explained a lot actually about them and,’ Daisy paused realising that her previous statement was true. Sirius could get anything out of her but she didn’t know if he knew about James’ revelation and this wasn’t her secret tell. Sirius watched her before he said, ‘he told you about Thomas.’

‘Yeah,’ Daisy said not surprised that Sirius would be in the know, probably given he’d no doubt questioned their presence in his life only to get the same explanation.

‘So you know they won’t mind,’ he said, moving his free hand to her thigh, his thumb moving over the jean clad flesh.

‘What about Lily?’ Daisy asked.

‘What do you think?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know,’ she replied honestly.

‘Well what did James say?’ he probed.

‘She’d not care,’ Daisy answered, her tone sceptical.

‘You don’t agree?’ he asked. Daisy bit her lip and replied, ‘I don’t know.’

‘Well,’ Sirius said, pulling her forward and pressing a kiss to her forehead, ‘you won’t know until you tell her.’

SIRIUS BLACK/SERIES TAGS

@maeisafangirl @mysteriouslydelicateface @caitlin1996 @imthebadguyyy

#my writing #sirius black #sirius black fic #marauders fic #marauders #Sirius black x ofc #Sirius black x Daisy evans #hp #hp fic

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shititbe · 3 years

Text

Anyway, HSM2 is about internalized homophobia, and no one can tell me otherwise.

High School Musical is one of the most beloved franchises in the world. Teenagers all over the world grew up watching Troy and Gabriella harmonize together. Three movies, and nearly a decade later it’s still beloved by all. The first film easily forgotten in the ashes of the early 2000’s, the third film stuck in a purgatorial limbo of the rather unfortunate late 2000’s. The second film on the other hand sticks out between the ruckus.

The second High School Musical film takes place at Sharpay and Ryan’s family country club, during the summer between junior and senior year. The Wildcats are working summer jobs on the country club, often forced to the beck and call of Ryan and Sharpay themselves. Sharpay uses all her prestige to help Troy with college instead of starting at the bottom ( or rather, in the kitchen washing dishes) with his friends. In the time she’s helping Troy, she is also pushing her brother away; replacing him with Troy in their musical number for the talent show, and refusing to hang out with him in preference for Troy. Ryan becomes vengeful to his twin and starts hanging around the Wildcats in the kitchen. At first, he was met with some distasteful looks and words (most of which from Chad). With the help of Kelsey, and her neutral party, Ryan fits in smoothly with the other teenagers, eventually giving the WildCats all dance lessons.

Throughout the movie, the main conflict continues to be the internal conflict of Troy Bolton. He debates over and over again if he should go through with Sharpay’s shenanigans, or if he wants to “listen to my own heart.” This of course involves Gabriella, as she is Troy’s love interest. She’s not in the second film except for the beginning, then, where she leaves in the middle of the film - in order to create angst for Troy - then when she shows up again in the finally to sing/rejoin Troy.

The conflict in the second film is the combining of Troy’s two worlds. His first - his main world in the first movie, that hence became his secondary world - which is represented by Chad. Then his secondary world - which becomes his main world in this movie - which is represented by Ryan. Chad represents Troy’s masculinity, or his more idealized version of himself. Ryan represents Troy’s femininity or his current version of reality. These two worlds collide in the iconic song “I don’t dance”.

Since this movie - and hence this scene - came out in the early 2000’s, a lot of the innuendoes went over people's heads. Luckily, as the children who watched this movie grew older and more experienced, and the world became more accepting, we’re able to see this song for what it is.

Before getting into the lore and symbolism of the iconic “I Don’t Dance” sequence, context is needed. For most of human history, homosexuality was seen as a sin in all places except ancient times (see: Greece and Japan). The modern age is the most accepting on all fronts, such as sexual orientation, race, and religion. In the early 2000’s, High School Musical director Kenny Ortega was not publicialy out yet. He wouldn’t be till 2014.

Originally, while writing this, my first thought was that Kenny - the director - would be using Troy as a y/n type character to project his insecurities and struggles with masculinity, and what that means in defining his orientation and societal views that would be placed upon him. Then, it came to me later that this is in fact not the case, Troy (and Gabriella - who is in fact a y/n character for the female audience) is more of a character for a man of his time, confused with his own ideals of masculinity and the views of society because, “oh god, I can’t like theater/drama because only queer people and girls like it!” The second point is pushed further with the Troy and Sharpay sub-plot. Sharpay tries to further Troy’s career as a basketball player, though that’s not what he wants anymore, and Troy is no longer sure if that is what he ever wanted to begin with (enter the song “Bet on it” and the hilarious meme “no dad, I’m giving up on your dream”).

Keeping these things in mind - Kenney’s queerness, and Troy’s struggle to realize you can in fact sing and be a heterosexual, wow, revolutionary - it became clear to me that Kenney’s y/n characters were Ryan and Chad.

For those who aren’t into the arts, or find them too difficult after a singular attempt thinking they could write a world class novel on the first go, let me be the first to tell you every author has a y/n character. First, for those who don’t know what y/n stands for, it’s a popular fanfiction trope where a writer will write a story about a character dating, being friends, and so on, with the reader. The y/n stands for “your name” so anyone can be the main character in this story at any time. For a writer of mainstream fictional work, such as High School Musical, Game Of Thrones, Lord Of The Rings, Pride and Prejudice, Harry Potter, Hunger Games, even most comics. Now, most writers or directors aren’t going to be as obvious as having a character not named (or named y/n) or even named Jane (looking at you Jane Austin), the y/n character of many mainstream authors/directors/comic artists and so on is usually the character they feel or have given the most attributes similar to themselves.

It’s the same reason people have favourite characters. You see a fictional character and you either 1. Want to Bob the Builder them, 2. Some sort of weird sex thing, or 3. See more/the most of yourself in this character. Number three - thankfully - is usually the main reason. Some people just create their own favourite characters. An even easier way to think about this, is just projection baby, that’s psych 101.

Before I went off on a small tangent of fictional works and how human emotion plays into creating them (except anything Disney has made in the past decade, and no you can’t change my mind on that) I mentioned that Chad and Ryan are Kenney’s y/n characters. As a queer person myself, it’s clear for me to see the different struggles each of these characters face and how these reflect the queer experience.

So, let’s finally get into it.

Ryan, without it being explicitly said is clearly a character of what people in the early 2000s think a gay man is. He is effeminate, wearing bright coloured outfits with lots of accessories - namely his signature hats - he is also in the theater department doing musicals, and passive/subservient to any of his twin sisters' wills. Yes, now we know gay men aren’t just feminized men, but in the early 2000’s a gay man who can do "masculine" things like change their car oil, like sports, and so on, break the "effeminate" stereotype thus confused many cishet people. Sharpay is painted as more confident - or, for sake of comparability - masculine to her twin in the first movie, and most of the second movie. Making Ryan a bit of her dog who would do anything to get by - painting Ryan as lesser than human, once more, playing into the homophobia of the early 2000's.

Despite the clear stereotypes playing into his character, Ryan is consistently one of the most confident characters in the movie. The other, being his sister of course. This confidence in himself is what gravitates the other characters towards him, either by being intimidated (Troy, thinking Ryan and Gabriella were a thing), or admiration (Chad, by the end of “I don’t dance”).

Chad, on the other hand, is a whole different ball game. While he is confident in the first movie, and the first portion of the second movie, he begins to break more and more when Ryan becomes a more integral part of the Wildcat group. To keep in mind, Chad is also the most vocal about his distaste for Troy’s artistic past-time. When the other Wildcats join Ryan and begin learning how to dance for the talent show at the end of the movie, Chad is also the most vocal about his distaste. The baseball game where “I don’t dance” takes place, is the climax of Chad’s arc and his turn towards acceptance to Ryan/Troy’s hobbies.

Of course, there is more to the “I don’t dance” sequence than just Chad’s realization - the exact one Troy comes to terms with in the second movie as well - of “oh my god I don’t have to be gay to enjoy stereotypical ‘feminine’ things.” That is the main part of the song though, that and all the sexual tension.

Going back to what I’ve stated previously, Chad and Ryan are Kenney’s projection or y/n characters. Let me do a small recap before we get into the nitty gritty of the famous “I don’t dance” video.

Thinking back to the first few paragraphs, I stated that Kenney wasn’t publicly out till 2014, about 7 years after the second movie came out. This could be due to the fact that a) it’s the early 2000’s and everyones still very homophobic, or b) self-doubt that comes with the queer experience. The most likely reason is a mixture of both of these. Because of this, Ryan is the more self-assured version, or idealized version of Kenney that he wants to be. Ryan is confident, never being swayed about his lifestyle (could be read as: sexuality) even though Chad - and most of the wildcats in the first movie - put him through relentless “teasing” and humiliation. He’s confident, almost to a fault, he’s sure of himself, and yet still reaches out a hand to Chad and the other wildcats to show them that they’re just being, kinda dick-ish.

Every queer person wants to be Ryan. Despite his heavily stereotyped characterization, I personally believe he is one of the stronger written characters in the movies, mainly due to Kenney putting the time in to really make Ryan feel like a real person, to give himself some sort of relief of his own anxieties, a chance to see the world through a person who truly has no fear. Unlike Kenney himself.

This is where Chad comes in.

Chad is seen as “confident” in the first movie, the second Troy “leaves” basketball though, all that confidence comes crashing down. His best friend has another hobby - one he thinks is “not right” (it’s okay, you can say gay), - they wont be spending all their time together (first, can you say dependent relationship much, yikes).Chad’s defining characteristic up until their fight that instigate act three of the second movie, is being Troy’s best friend. I’m going to take this as if this were truly the case, and not a decently written character arch. Some people base themselves around their friends and their whole identity on being a friend, that they lose sight of themselves, this mainly in high school of course, when your whole world is really nothing but school, and friends. Newly developed independence is there, but that’s scary, so instead of worrying about the future, cling to something that’s reliable. I’ve seen this happen, mainly at the end of high school, when the “real world” is coming a bit too close for comfort. This could generally be the case if a person is lonely, but for timeline sake I’m going to say Chad has got some anxiety about graduating (considering the second movie takes place the summer of junior year).

His lashing out at Troy’s hobbies and at Troy’s neglectful friendship, make more sense with that background, and are seen more in the second movie where Troy begins spending all his spare time with Sharpay (trying to collect that BAG!). Chad - and others (read: father) - insists that music is not a feasible career option, and Troy should just stick with basketball (like...that is a feasible career option). The tension Chad creates in the studio only grows when the other wildcats decide to take up Ryan’s offer for dance lessons and move from the kitchen, to helping out with the talent show. (Next essay idea: how high school musical two was really about class all along, cause Jesus).

Chad is the less obvious option for a y/n character. Though again, the 2000’s were not as cool people like to pretend they are. Chad - for Kenney - represents what he actually feels, this fear of being rejected for how he is and how he chooses to live his life/lifestyle, so he sticks to something reliable. Ryan is new, and exciting, and confident in a way that Kenney/Chad wish they could be, but in order for that to happen they need to understand that maybe people are complex creatures, and can enjoy multiple hobbies (aka: the same lesson Troy is teaching the viewers, but far less boring). But, for Kenney/Chad facing that thought and that realization is scary, and thus, they lash out at anyone (read this paragraph as: Chad mad jealous of Ryan cause Ryan bomb as fuck).

All this build up, finally comes ahead in the employee baseball match

******

The baseball game is probably the most memorable scene in the whole High School Musical franchise (minus Sharpay’s “Fabulous” solo, but that’s also from the same movie, and it’s kinda rude to give what’s already the best more points); the tension in the scene, and what it implies makes it the best written segment of all three movies, let alone the most entertaining.

Some things to keep in mind from our background information: Chad is missing his bestie and struggling with what being “masculine” really means for him and others. Ryan of course makes this confusing, because the traditional method is being thrown out the window. In short, Chad has internalized homophobia, and Ryan being open - or as open as Disney would let him - is causing all sorts of problems.

Despite the song, “I don’t dance” being logged into our collective skulls for all eternity (you’re probably humming it right now, sorry about that), the very brief interaction of Ryan and Chad before the game is lost on the public consciousness. The two are clearly comfortable with each other, though the distaste seems to be on Chad’s side more than Ryans. So, the two start playfully jabbing at each other before deciding to do a bat toss to see who will be in the outfield first.

Before they begin the bat toss, Ryan says “You don’t think dancing takes some game?” Chad then very clearly checks him out, doing a simple but effective ‘drag-your-eyes-over-them-top-to-bottom-then-smile’ and says “you got game?” (Seen in gif below)

I don’t know how much you know about sex metaphors and how many of those baseball has in it (seriously though, it’s a lot), but with the bat toss, Ryan’s hand ended up on top, and Chad’s under Ryan’s. Let’s ignore this for now, it’ll be implied again later. Ryan’s team starts out in the outfield because he won the bat toss, and hence, the song officially starts.

The first lyrics (ignoring the chores of “hey batter batter, hey batter batter, swing”) is

I'll show you that it's one and the same

Baseball, dancing, same game

It's easy

Step up to the place, start swingin

This part is sung by Ryan, who is taunting Chad out in the outfield. Before the game, as stated, Chad was taunting Ryan about his lack of “game” (both sexual and not sexual metaphor are implied), and now, Ryan has turned those tables around. Baseball - is seen as more masculine than dancing, not as masculine as football or basketball, but it’s up there. Chad is someone who cares about his masculinity, enough to the point that Ryan playing baseball makes him loose his mind. Makes him question his own personal definition of masculinity, if you will.

Ryan says, “baseball, dancing, same game,” impyling that, to him, baseball and dancing are one and the same. That is baffling to Chad, cause well, how can something meant for girls even be close to something meant for boys.

Chad comes back with:

I wanna play ball now, and that's all

This is what I do

It ain't no dance that you can show me, yeah

This only proves my previous point.

I had a conversation with myself about this, and I’ve decided not to include it in this essay, but a second essay may or may not be possible. Basically the premise - the dancing/”musical” moments of High School Musical are conjured up images by those meant to see them (ie: like a visual hallucination, but, not really) but this scene kinda poo-poos that idea.

Now, the thing I am talking about is Ryan and Chad’s peacocking at each other during the time they sing these lyrics. The movements they’re making could be mistaken for dancing - as we automatically assume it is because of the title and themes of the movie - or it could be them just getting ready for the baseball game. Ryan swings his leg over the pitcher's mound, tossing the ball up and down into his glove, making wavy hand gestures, etc. Chad brushes off his gloves, swings his legs, hits the bat on each foot, and so on.

For the peacocking, Chad makes a mock of the ballerina foot stance before strutting over to the home plate. Ryan laughs at this, which earns quite the smirk from Chad himself (see gif below).

This is when it becomes a conversation.

You'll never know - R

Oh I know - Ch

If you never try - R

There's just one little thing - Ch

That stops me every time, yeah - Ch

Come on - Ch

When Chad says “Come on” it’s when Ryan throws the baseball at him, starting the game, and giving Chad’s team their first strike of the game (get it, it’s funny). Now, obviously we need to talk about the “there’s just one little thing that stops me every time.” As a queer person, I assure you, two of the things that kept me from living my Best Life were 1) my own ignorance of what asexuality was and 2) the fear that everyone I love would hate me for who I am, and what I have no control over.

Sorry to get deep like that on main, but, can any other queer person say different? Obviously, your first point may differ, but my point still stands. In the video/scene there is a very short moment (to which I have condensed into a gif for you all, you’re welcome, and I’m sorry about the quality in advance), of the camera moving over to Chad’s team (or his friends in this case since it’s an employee baseball game) as he says this line (gif below).

I will not be explaining the use of subtly in this essay, but I’m sure you get the metaphor Kenney is trying to use. If not, let me spell it out for you in very simple words. This song has a lot of sexual innuendos (as mentioned pervious with the baseball bat scene and still, more to come), with that in mind, and clearly queer themes at play (as mentioned before, again), this scene only shows Chad isn’t as straight as he leads on. His fear/phobia of Ryan/the arts come from a much deeper place.

In shorter, and much simpler terms: Chad queer.

But, let’s get back to the boy's conversation.

I don't dance - Ch

I know you can - R

Not a chance, no - Ch

If I could do this, well, you could do that - R

Translation: “If I can do this weird, sweaty, dirty, Male thing without blowing a fuse, you can and should be able to dance just fine.”

But I don't dance - Ch

Hit it out of the park - Both

I don't dance - Ch

I say you can - R

There's not a chance, oh - Ch

Slide home, you score, swingin on the dance floor - Both

I don't dance, no - Ch (This is just the chores, you’ll see it multiple times throughout the essay, I just figured if the song is going to be in your head, go all the way right).

Two-steppin, now you're up to bat - R

Bases loaded, do your dance - R

Here we are with the baseball metaphors you’ve all been waiting for ladies and gentlemen. Girls, gays, and non-binary pals. For those who have somehow managed a sheltered existence with access to the internet, lemme help you. Ryan is talking about “loaded bases” both in the context of the game (where it shows each base has one person from Chad’s team on them) and in the term of sex. While you go out there dating - while it’s mostly douche bags and people using it ironically - your nosey friends may ask you how far you got.

“First, second, or third base?” They may ask. Or something like, “oh wow, did you get to home plate/base?” These are simply the rankings of the stages of a sexual relationship. First - kissing, sometimes just handholding, Second - making out, some light groping, Third - full on groping, no clothes come off, but it gets close. While each person has different boundaries, these are the general accepted definitions for the bases.

Home base is obviously full blown sexual intercourse. Since Chad has his “bases loaded” it means he’s done all these things before, just never gone completely to sexual intercourse with someone - in the terms of the song and the history we’ve already established, it’s most likely a male character. This is only proven by Chad’s uncomfortable nature towards Ryan (internalized Homophobia, thank you, returning theme) but his easy, and cocky personality towards everyone else. “bUt thAt DoEsnT pRovE” hush, that’s the final cherry on top. Remember this conversation.

It's easy - R

Again. Previous points have been made.

Take your best shot, just hit it - Ch

I've got what it takes, playin my game - Ch

So you better spin that pitch - Ch

You're gonna throw me, yeah - Ch

I'll show you how I swing - Ch

Ah, the famous “I’ll show you how i swing” a very strong baseball metaphor for everyone. Keeps queer people from defining themselves to dangerous (straight) people, and, well, that’s it actually. This term is mostly used by bi/pan people, though if you want to stay in the closet or are in a dangerous place, it is also used to subtly tell other queer people you are in fact, not straight. My favourite is when this term came into play when President Buchanan got elected in 1856 (for those that don’t know, he’s the first and only gay president).

You'll never know - R

Oh I know - Ch

If you never try - R

There's just one little thing - Ch

That stops me every time, yeah - Ch

This is again, the same lyric as before it doesn’t pan, and the tone is much different. The camera stays on Chad as he says this line, meaning he’s reflecting, he is now his own problem, the person that is keeping him back. His friends are not on his mind anymore, which is good, Ryan’s Gay Propaganda has been working.

Come on - Ch

I don't dance - Ch

I know you can - R

Not a chance, no, no - Ch

If I could do this, well, you could do that - R

But I don't dance - Ch

Hit it out of the park - R

I don't dance - Ch

I say you can - R

There's not a chance, oh no - Ch

Slide home, you score, swingin on the dance floor - Both

I don't dance, no - Ch

Lean back, tuck it in, take a chance - R

Swing it out, spin around, do the dance - R

I wanna play ball, not dance hall - Ch

I'm makin a triple, not a curtain cal - Chl

I can prove it to you til you know it's true - R

'Cause I can swing it, I can bring it to the diamond too - R

You're talkin a lot, show me what you got - Ch

Again, like the beginning of this song, this is a heavy base for flirting and sexual tension, which this song is drowning in.

Stop swinging - both

Hey - both

This is the part where they all start a flash mob in the middle of the baseball diamond. Again, alluding to the conversation I had to myself earlier, this only proves my own theory as no one takes notice of this. But, that’s not this essay, this is where I mention how close Chad and Ryan are at the end of the group dance.

Come on, swing it like this - both

Oh, swing - both

Jitterbug, just like that - both

That's what I mean, that's how you swing - both

You make a good pitch but I don't believe - both

Here is yet another (and the final) sexual innuendo. This is actually a rather quick one. Pitching in queer culture is considered the person who tops (because queer people even had to straight-ify their sex lives to “top” and “bottom”), this is the person who is giving, if you know what I’m saying.

I say you can - R

I know I can't - Ch

I don't dance - Ch

You can do it - R

I don't dance, no - Ch

Here is where that mosh pit ends, and how they get a little too close to comfort.

Nothing to it, atta boy, atta boy, yeah - both

The rest of this song is simply a mash-up of the baseball game being finished, and this lovely gem.

Now, clearly, Chad’s self conscious nature towards his sexuality is gone, he’s sitting close - if not squishing - Ryan, and talking to him like they’ve been friends forever. Take note of the change of close, most likely due to all the tension at the end of the song, and maybe a little of Chad’s own natural human curiosity built in. Now, I leave you with this note:

If there is anything that confirms all this more, its Chad’s girlfriend wearing the pride colours.

Also note: this could also be seen as a friend helping his bro discover his sexuality and fighting internalized homophobia, but, that’s ignoring the sexual tension, so go off I guess.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

Watch the full thing here

#high school musical 2 #ryan and chad #do they have a ship name?#troy bolton #high school musical #the original not the remake or whatever the kids have now #ryan evans #chad danforth #Sharpay evans #troy x gabriella #ryan/chad #that baseball scene #yall know what i'm talking about #i don't dance #the gayest scene ever #and gayest song #Anyways: the series #should I write that second essay?#thanks for coming to my ted talk

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

Text

ALL IS FAIR

a/n: woohoo!! finally a harry fic! lol sorry i got very into marvel these past weeks but im finally bringing you some harry content! this one was originally requested by an anon sometime and then we kept talking about it until i actually got around to write it! hopefully you’ll like it and if you do, please like and reblog!

pairing: ceo!Harry x ceo!plussize!reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 16.7k

masterlist

“Stop being such a stuck up dick, it’s your birthday, bro!”

Harry rolls his eyes at his friend who walks into his penthouse as if he owned. Niall Horan was so well-known in Harry’s building that he could have easily walked into any homes in the tower and people would still welcome him warmly. It might have a few things to do with the fact that half of the residents in the Compass Tower are women who are hopelessly in love with either Niall or Harry, hoping for a chance to drag either of them into their bed one day. They have a lot more chance to do that with the Irish bloke than with Mr. Styles. Not that Harry doesn’t find them attractive, but he is not the type to have one night stands, something his friend gives him quite a lot of shit for.

“Would you fuck off for twenty more minutes?” Harry sighs, shooting him a look as he covers the speaker of his phone, in the middle of a call.

“You have ten minutes and we are leaving. I’m not letting you work on the night of your thirtieth birthday!” Niall warns him before walking into the kitchen to roam the always full, neatly stocked fridge.

As much as Niall Horan comes off as an irresponsible cocky child, he is quite the businessman himself as well. As the Lawyer of one third of New York’s most influential people, he surely doesn’t have to worry about making a living, enjoying his luxurious apartment a few streets away from Harry’s place on the Upper East Side. It’s not as expensive and impressive as Harry’s penthouse on the top of the tower his father built in the heart of the posh neighborhood most people only know from TV shows, but he couldn’t complain.

“Another designer refused to sign with us, H. We are running out of options,” Lambert’s voice rings through the phone as Harry turns to the floor to ceiling window, staring out to the city skyline in front of him.

“We have quite a few left, right?” Harry asks clenching his jaw.

“Yeah, but I heard that Cometa is planning on announcing something big next week so I think a lot of them are waiting for that to happen.”

“Do you think it’s another collab? But they just had fucking Chanel have a line sold through them!” Harry growls, his blood boiling at even just the thought.

When it comes to fashion in the virtual world, there are two businesses that totally dominate the industry. In the men’s wear, Twisted is definitely the number one selling place. The idea started off as just a freshman school project that originally wanted to sell tech stuff, but a few years into the project Harry met Lambert who was already a rising star in the fashion industry and they joined forces, creating the most classic yet affordable and user friendly online empire: Twisted. Though Twisted mostly features men’s clothing, they’ve been trying to venture to the field of women’s fashion, but it hasn’t been as easy as they thought it to be. And the reason for that is Cometa.

Cometa was originally a website where anyone could sell their own clothes, make their online wardrobe sale. But eventually the business grew itself out and stepped up a few levels, collaborating with various designers and brands, selling exclusive lines and a highly praised seasonal variety four times a year, earning a well-deserved top spot in the online fashion industry. It’s hard to compete with what Julia Bianchi built up through sweat and blood and Harry Styles has been working on stepping up to be a major competition for Cometa in women’s fashion, with not much luck so far.

To top the cake with a delicious looking cherry, Cometa has been trying to set feet into men’s fashion as well in the recent years, bringing out several lines with some mentionable designers, but they never made it be as big as Twisted. The two businesses have been trying to outdo each other for about a decade now, with not much luck so far and Harry’s patience is running low by now.

“I don’t know what it is, but keep an eye out. I’ll call you on Monday, alright?” Lambert sighs through the line.

“Okay, thank you,” Harry nods, feeling a little defeated.

“And happy birthday, man. Go and celebrate!” he chuckles, making Harry’s lips curl up as well.

“Thanks, have a good weekend,” Harry bids his goodbye before the call ends.

Wandering into the kitchen Harry finds Niall with the thickest ham and cheese sandwich between his hands, sitting at the kitchen island.

“So where exactly are we going tonight?” he asks, grabbing himself a granola bar as he joins the Irish lad on the stool next to him.

“Oh, that’s a surprise,” he grins, mouth full as he chews mercilessly. Harry grimaces, not sure how this is the same man who can convince a judge about basically anything, wearing his designer suits, putting on an intimidating and serious act for his cases.

“I have a switch,” Niall once told him when he asked how he does it. “I just turn it off when I’m off the clock.”

“You know I hate surprises,” Harry informs him matter-of-factly, but Niall doesn’t seem to be bothered by his comment.

“You’re thirty now, no one cares what you hate.”

“Says who?” Harry huffs.

“Me,” he grins, making Harry roll his eyes.

The bass is throbbing, red tinted lights illuminating the exclusive bar in the heart of Manhattan where Niall chose to gather some of Harry’s close friends to celebrate his thirtieth birthday. Sitting in the leather couches at a restricted area at the back of the place, they are hidden enough not to draw too much attention to themselves but still feel like they are part of the party.

“Cheers to three decades of this cocky motherfucker!” Niall beams as their glasses meet in the middle, everyone laughing and wishing Harry a happy birthday before they all chug their drinks.

Harry is not necessarily the type of person to enjoy going out too often, but he admits it’s been a while since the last time he let loose. It feels nice to have the evening to himself, leaving the business behind for just a couple of hours before he returns to his busy everydays.

Though the occasion is Harry’s birthday, Niall is surely enjoying the evening a tad bit more than his friend. After Harry sees him send down three tequilas in a row he realizes it’s not gonna end well if he doesn’t get some water into his system as well. Excusing himself from the group he heads to the bar, pushing his way through the dancing bodies until he finally reaches his destination.

Given how it’s a Friday evening, the place is packed and he waits in the line patiently while the bartender is fixing up the order of a group of girls a few stools down from Harry. Leaning onto the counter Harry runs his gaze over the dancing crowd, tapping his fingers against the surface to the beat, even bopping his head a little when he feels a push from behind him.

“Oh, sorry!” A female voice calls out and as he turns around he spots the owner of it, a young woman, her curvy body wrapped in a tight mini dress that leaves very little to Harry’s imagination as his eyes run up and down her figure. He has never seen a curvy girl as confident as her, she is radiating, drawing every male’s attention to herself like she is feeding off the hungry stares and dirty thoughts birthed by her.

Her eyes meet Harry’s gaze and the sly smirk that tugs on her perfectly shaped lips gives it away that she is not that sorry to be bumping into him.

“No worries,” is all he manages to say, the urge to drop to his knees right then and there stronger than anything he has ever had to fight.

“He won’t notice you,” she tells him and his eyebrows knit together in confusion. “The bartender. If you just stand there like that… he will never come here,” she explains.

“I’m not sure I have what catches his eyes,” he jokes, making her laugh and he swears his stomach drops at the heavenly sound.

“May I?” she arches an eyebrow and Harry nods, letting her step in front of him. He stands tall above her, eyes fixed on her figure as she leans onto the counter, the marble pushing her breasts up just enough to spark the bartender’s fantasies when he glances in her way. She waves at him with a charming smile and a moment later the guy is standing in front of her, ready to please her in any way she desires.

“Three vodka sodas and…” she turns in Harry’s way, her lips slightly parted and his breath hitches in his throat. “What did you want, handsome?”

“Just, uhh—Just two water, please.”

Her eyebrows rise, but she doesn’t comment on it, just adds the two water to her order. The bartender nods and disappears to fix up her drinks. Harry takes a deep breath and sticking his hand out to her he introduces himself.

“I’m Harry, by the way.” She takes his hand, shaking it firmly.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Harry. Are you here alone?”

“Um, no. I’m here with a few friends,” he replies nodding towards the back of the place. “Are you here with someone?”

Please don’t say your boyfriend, please!

“A few of my girlfriends,” she smiles, brushing her hair over her shoulder, flaunting a better look at her naked neck and just one glimpse is sending a whirl of dirty thoughts into Harry’s mind. He wonders how soft her skin would feel under his lips, what her moans would sound as he sucks on it, leaving a mark on her, letting every man in the house know that he made her feel good.

“Are you guys celebrating something?” Y/N asks, a knowing smile on her lips as she most definitely saw Harry staring at her.

“Actually, yeah,” he chuckles a little nervously. “It’s my birthday.” Y/N’s eyes brighten up as she beams at him.

“Really? Happy birthday then!”

“Thank you,” he smiles shyly. “Are you guys celebrating something too?”

“Well, I…” she starts, her thoughts wandering off for a second before she continues. “I kind of got promoted,” she explains and Harry smiles down at her warmly.

“Congrats then!”

The bartender returns with the drinks and she is already about to get her card from her little clutch when Harry pulls his card out, handing it over to the guy behind the bar.

“Birthday boys shouldn’t pay for others,” she smirks, but doesn’t try to fight him that hard.

“You can pay me back later,” Harry shrugs with a suggestive smirk on his lips. He doesn’t want to part ways with her, but she is obviously expected to be back with her friends and he needs to get back to Niall as well before he absolutely loses control. Stepping closer to him, Y/N slides a hand up his chest, her palm resting at the base of his neck as she leans to his ear.

“Save me a dance, birthday boy?” she murmurs into his ear, her lips brushing against him for a split second before she steps back, grabs her drinks and winking at him one last time she disappears from the bar. Harry stands there for a few more seconds before the bartender hands him back his card and snatching the waters from the bar he heads back to his friends.

Luckily, Niall is slowing down a little, The water does him well and Harry finally doesn’t feel like he’ll have to take care of him, dragging him home once the night is over. Sitting by the table Harry is trying to focus on the conversation, but his gaze keeps wandering over to the dance floor, looking for one particular curvy figure in the sea of dancing bodies.

It takes him some time to spot her, but when he does, he is not able to tear his eyes away from her.

She is almost perfectly in the middle with her friends surrounding her, lips and shoulders swaying to the rhythm perfectly. He catches her chug down the last sips of her drink before she disregards the glass and gets back to dancing. Watching her every move intently, Harry feels his lips slightly part at the sight of this angel who is for sure a devil in the sheets. He can’t stop himself fantasizing about what it would feel like to dig his fingers into her thighs, kiss her neck, her cleavage that’s on show now, how her curves would fit into his hands perfectly. He wants to praise this woman, make her feel good and not just because he wants to be selfless and please her, but also because seeing this woman reach her high because of him would be the biggest ego boost for him and he just needs that.

“Go dance with her!” Niall wiggles his eyebrows at him when he catches Harry staring at her.

“What? No, I’m not a dancer,” he shakes his head, shifting his eyes away from the dancing goddess on the dance floor.

“Oh come on, don’t be a pussy!”

“I’m not a pussy, I just—“

“You’re a pussy. I saw her looking in your way as well, she wants your dick!”

“Jesus, Niall!” Harry whines rolling his eyes. He doesn’t like it when he gets so vulgar, but luckily no one heard their conversation. Glancing back in Y/N’s way Harry sees how men are eyeing him, probably building up the courage to go up to her and that has his blood boiling. He needs to be the one to touch her.

Chugging down the rest of his drink he snaps the glass on the table before standing from his seat, ignoring Niall’s cheering as he makes his way into the crowd.

Harry didn’t lie when he said he is not a dancer, he feels uncomfortable, awkward and uncoordinated most of the times he tries to dance, but he is pushing all of those to the back of his mind for now as his eyes are set on one person in the crowd.

When Y/N spots the man approaching her, she can’t push a pleased smile off her lips, slowing her movements down as Harry finally reaches her, leaning closer to her ear so she can hear his voice over the music.

“Here to collect that dance,” he smugly tells her, making her laugh, though the music is too loud to let him hear her. She just nods and turning around she presses herself up against him, her backside fitting his front perfectly. Harry’s hand snake around her waist, his large palm smoothly moving through the silky fabric of her dress as they start moving together.

She is intoxicating, makes Harry feel like he is some kind of horny teenager, like he hasn’t dealt with women before, but in a way, she makes all of his past flings appear to be only girls. Her confidence in her own body is easily one of her best traits, the way she handles herself, moves her body, the look in her eyes, Harry is getting drunk on just watching her and now he is able to touch her as well.

When he feels himself getting hard in his pants, he knows he should be at least a slightly bit embarrassed by himself, but as Y/N turns around in his arms and he sees the pleased smirk on her lips, the feeling vanishes in a heartbeat. She wraps her arms around his neck as she pulls him close, her lips brushing against his lips.

“Enjoying yourself, birthday boy?” she prompts before pressing a kiss to the soft skin under his ear and he can’t hold a growl back. The friction is almost unbearable, as his hands slide lower on her back, stopping on her ass, he knows he won’t be able to control himself any longer. Luckily, he is not the only one having this inner fight.

Snapping around Y/N grabs his hand and starts pulling him through the crowd towards the hallway of the bathrooms. He follows her eagerly, lucky for them, the club doesn’t have restrooms with several stalls, but single bathrooms with a lot more comfort and privacy. Just what they need right now.

They find the third bathroom empty, pushing their way inside and locking the door before Harry pushes her up against it the moment it’s just the two of them, their mouths hungrily meeting in the middle. He almost grunts against her lips, she tastes even better than he imagined and the way her tongue is the first one to come into action has got his mind blown. His hands roam up her body, running up all her curves until they reach her face and he cups it in his palms, pressing his hips against her. She moans against his mouth when his hard cock pokes against her, both of them desperate to take it further.

Tumbling further into the small bathroom, he helps her up to the counter next to the sing, her legs instantly opening for him, her tiny dress rolling up her thighs, revealing her clothed sex. Harry eagerly kisses his way down her neck and chest, her skin feeling so smooth under his lips. His fingers hook under the thin straps of her dress, tugging them down so he can push the dress past her full breasts and thank God she is not wearing a bra underneath!

“Fuck me, you are so hot!” he breathes out, making her chuckle at his reaction.

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” she cockily answers before Harry’s mouth attaches to her nipple, his hand working on her other breasts before he switches.

He quickly gets down on his knees, pushing her underwear to the side before his lips and tongue meet her sensitive clit.

“Oh shit!” she moans, a hand coming to tangle in his hair while she tries to hold herself steady with leaning on the other one behind her. There’s no time for teasing now and they both know that.

She is so lost in the experience, Harry is licking and sucking just the right spots and she tries to close her legs, locking his head between her thighs. His arms come to curl around them, ring clad fingers digging into her flesh and the situation might be a little suffocating for him, but he doesn’t mind it a bit. In fact, if he died this way, he would die a happy man.

She doesn’t let him finish what he started, pulling him up, his lips still glistening from her own juices as she kisses him messily, wiggling herself out of her underwear while he undoes his pants as well.

“Shit, do you have a condom?” he breathes out when his palm wraps around his throbbing cock. She nods, reaching for her clutch she dropped to the counter and digging into it she grabs the package, smacking it against his chest playfully. “Were you planning to do this tonight?” he grins cockily as he rips the package open and starts rolling it down his hard length.

“No, I’m just smart, unlike you,” she retorts, her sass dripping from her tone and it just riles him up even more.

Grabbing her thighs he yanks her to the edge of the counter, a gasp leaving her plump lips as she tries to find her balance quickly.

“Don’t be a brat,” he growl against her lips before kissing her, while he lines himself up with her, the head already pushing in.

“Then fuck me, birthday boy,” she challenges him again and it’s the last straw.

Harry slams into her, both of them moaning at the sensation before he starts thrusting in a fast pace, needing all the friction he can make to get them to finish as soon as possible. Y/N’s head falls back as she holds onto the back of his neck, her other hand on the counter behind her again and Harry glances down, watching her breasts bounce every time he rails into her, slamming his whole length into her every time their hips meet.

She reaches for one of his hands that’s holding her thigh and she boldly brings it to her core, tapping his fingers to her clit, letting him know that she wants some extra effort. Harry doesn’t say it, but he is blown how she didn’t just do it herself, she made him do it. It’s got to be one of the hottest things he has ever seen.

“Fuck, go harder!” she gasps, wrapping her legs around his waist as he picks the pace up, feeling his orgasm building rapidly with each thrust.

They both are a whimpering, moaning mess, the bass of the music is thumping outside and for a moment, Harry feels like he is finally living his life to the fullest.

“I’m gonna cum!” she breathes out, his name falling from her lips moaning after that and when she pulls him down to kiss him, biting into his bottom lip and tugging it, he loses himself.

He feels himself jerking inside her, still sliding in and out of her as he grunts, releasing himself into the condom. He flicks his fingers on her clit at the same time, creating just enough friction to push her over the edge as well. He is coming off his own high when her walls tighten around his cock, dragging his orgasm out even longer as she basically screams, gasping for air, riding her orgasm out to the last bit.

Leaning down he kisses her again though they are still panting, this time making it a lot less rushed than the time their lips met for the first time. Her legs fall from around his waist and he pulls out, both of them cleaning themselves up in the aftermath of their little session.

“I know this was quite rushed and all that, but can I have your number?” he asks, even feeling a little nervous. She puts her underwear back on, smoothing her dress down as she smiles up at him, cupping his face in her palm.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to skip on that,” she tells him simply, shocking him for sure.

“D-Do you have a boyfriend or something?”

“No,” she shakes her head and now Harry is confused.

“You didn’t enjoy it?” he then asks, trying his best to figure out the reason behind the rejection.

“I did. But it was a one time thing. If it’s supposed to turn into more…” she sighs, grabbing her clutch from the counter. “Then I’ll leave it to fate if we ever meet again,” she shrugs before turning around she just unlocks the door and walks out, leaving Harry stand there in complete and utter shock.

This is definitely a first for him, a woman who doesn’t want to see him again. He is not that egoistic to think that everyone is in love with him, but he never had an encounter similar to this. Not after the most amazing sex ever.

Harry fixes himself up, still not believing she walked out that easily, but there’s not much he can do now. Walking back to his table, he acts like nothing happened and when his eyes scan over the crowd again, he can’t see her anymore.

Harry lets out a tired sigh when Zayn, head of the graphic design department walks into his office with a familiar brown paper bag with the logo of Harry’s favorite Chinese restaurant.

“Has it started already?” Zayn asks, though glancing at the big screen on the wall he can see the stream is still waiting to be started.

“No, I’ve been staring at it for like twenty minutes,” Harry grumbles, pushing himself away from his desk to join Zayn on the couch in front of the screen as he unpacks the food. “What do you think it’s going to be?”

Today is the day of Cometa’s big press conference and no one knows what they are about to announce. It’s been keeping Harry on the edge for the past few days, because whatever it is, it has got to be major. Julia Bianchi is not the type of person to hold press conferences, she is a private person who has managed to keep most of her life behind closed doors. That’s something Harry admires in the woman even though they are competitors in the business. He can relate to wanting to keep her life just for herself, he has been doing the same thing. No public appearances, no lengthy interviews, no photoshoots. He likes to let his work talk for himself and it’s proved to be a successful move so far.

“I don’t know, but I hope they don’t suddenly announce a full graphic makeover right before our update,” Zayn chuckles. He has been working on an entirely new appearance for the website these past weeks and it’s supposed to go live sometime later in the month. A change for Cometa would totally throw their attempt off, making them look like they are just copying Julia’s move.

They eat and wait for the stream to start when the screen finally comes alive. There’s an empty stage shown with just two mic stands in the middle and nothing really happens for a few minutes before clapping is heard from behind the camera and Julia finally walks on the stage.

The woman is a real diva. Wearing a matching pant suit with bold floral print all over it, her short hair is neatly straightened into a bob cut, her red lips smiling lightly as she waves around in the room. Julia has been in the fashion industry for almost three decades now and she surely made a name for herself, sitting front row in every fashion show she attends, her words on any new trend being basically the standard.

Stepping to one of the mics, she clears her throat as the clapping dies down and her calm, gentle voice rings through the speakers.

“Welcome, everyone, thank you for coming, as you might already know I’m Julia Bianchi, head of Cometa, the world’s best online women’s fashion house.”

Harry leans back in his seat, eyes fixed on the woman on the screen as he is patiently waiting to hear what she’s got for the people this time.

“I’ve spent twenty-seven wonderful years in the business, building my own one for the past two decades. I fell in love with fashion as a child and moved to Milan to study designing from the bests. Though designing has always and will always hold a special place in my heart, I saw an opportunity in the early years for a brand that would hold together every other brand in the industry, bringing it to everyone’s home thanks to the rapidly developing technology. Cometa has always been my little baby and I’m proud of everything I achieved as head of such a great company.”

Harry realizes what it’s about before Julia could even say the words herself. The phrasing, the nostalgic tone, it’s all adding up to the obvious: Julia is about to announce her retirement.

“I gave the best years of my life for this company and I regret nothing, but recently I’ve realized that it is time for me to slow down for a little bit and enjoy a life that’s not filled with work anymore, and spend more time with my beloved husband, Fabio and my family who supported me on my long way here. Therefore, I am now announcing it with an aching heart and a lot of excitement as well that I am stepping down from my role as CEO of Cometa. I might be leaving now, but my business will not. So it is a pleasure to introduce you the person who will carry my legacy on, my amazing niece, the absolutely most perfect woman to carry on the work I started, Y/N Y/L/N.”

The moment another woman comes into the picture Harry almost chokes on his own saliva, seeing the same curves he had his fingers dug into last Friday. Y/N smiles and waves around as she steps to the other mic next to her aunt, exchanging a short look with her before turning towards the people in the room and the camera that’s streaming the event.

“Dude, you alright?” Zayn asks, patting Harry’s back a few times as he is still struggling to breathe normally.

He refuses to accept that the woman he fucked in a bathroom on his birthday, the one that made him moan like never before, is the same woman who is going to take over his biggest competitor.

“This has got to be a joke,” he breathes out with teary eyes from all the coughing.

“It is an honor to be here,” Y/N starts speaking as the clapping dies down once again and the two men are staring at the screen. “Just like to be the one to step into the perfectly stylish shoes of my aunt. I hope to live up to not just her and everyone else’s expectations, but also to mine as well. I grew up watching my aunt build up this empire with basically dust so to be the person to take her place is a dream come true. I promise to keep the quality the same and work on improving Cometa to its possible best while being in charge.”

As she finishes talking, questions are thrown in her way, but Harry doesn’t pay attention any longer. Standing up he walks to the window, staring out to the city as he chews on his bottom lip anxiously.

“What the fuck is your problem, H? It wasn’t as bad as we expected, right?” Zayn questions.

“It’s fucking worse!” he snaps turning around. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

“Would you just tell me what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that… I told you about what… happened on my birthday.”

“The bathroom fuck, oh yeah,” Zayn chuckles with a playful shine in his eyes.

“Well, that woman… the woman I fucked was her.” Zayn stays silent for a moment before he turns towards the screen, eyeing the woman on the stage as she is still answering questions, standing confidently in her tight, black dress and red heels.

“You fucked Julia Bianchi’s niece? And she is now taking over Cometa?” he raises his eyebrows at Harry who just nods, pressing his lips together into a thin line. “And she is also the one who didn’t give you her number?”

“Don’t… bring that up. But yes, it’s her.”

Zayn starts laughing, clearly finding Harry’s misery entertaining, but Harry doesn’t feel like taking it that easy. He wonders if she knew who he was, if she did it on purpose or it was fate’s horrible joke on both of them.

“Ah man, that charity event on Saturday will be one hell of a show then!” Zayn points it out and Harry’s face falls. He totally forgot about the charity event he was invited to, one that would have the biggest names in the fashion industry together in a ball room to raise money for a chosen good cause. It happens every year and it’s a major event, the perfect place to network and also to see your biggest enemies. That means that Harry will see Y/N again in a few short days and if he is being honest… he is not ready to face her, not after the information he learned today. Sighing he steps to the minibar he insisted on having in his office and though he never drinks during the day, he now thinks that now might be an exception. He pours himself some whiskey and before he chugs it down at one go, he lets out a long, tired sigh.

“That’s just my luck…”

Leslie helps you with the zipper of your dress, the silky, red fabric hugging your body like a second skin. She smoothes the wrinkles out while you fix the straps, staring back at yourself in the mirror with judgment. You need to look perfect, this is going to be your first time appearing at an event as CEO of Cometa, your big entrance into the industry, you can’t let anything go wrong.

“You look gorgeous, babe,” Leslie smiles at you, bringing your hair behind your shoulders as her eyes meet yours in the mirror. Leslie might be your assistant, but she is a lot more than that. You’ve been friends for almost a decade and when she lost her job a few years ago you didn’t hesitate to offer her a spot next to you. You wouldn’t be here without her, she doesn’t try to use her privilege of being your friend to not do the work, she is always on top of her game and you’ll always be grateful for her to not make it awkward at all.

“I think you need some diamonds though,” she winks at you, stepping to the table where all kinds of jewelry is sprawled out. She reaches for a simple one, not too much, quite elegant and you nod as she holds it up for you. Walking behind you she brings it around your neck, the diamond brilliantly sitting on your chest now, giving that little extra shine to your outfit.

“You’ll make every man fall in love with you,” she smiles at you and breathing out you nod, hoping to believe that everything will go perfectly.

While you make a few last minute calls she gets dressed as well before the car arrives for the two of you. She is wearing a less daring but still beautiful black dress, her curly hair pinned up into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, her heavily freckled face bright from her happy smile as the two of you make your way to the event.

“I know it’s ridiculous, but I tried to memorize the faces and names from the guest list,” she grins at you, earning an eyeroll.

“Les, I told you, this is not The Devil Wears Prada,” you chuckle softly. She is obsessed with that movie and hasn’t shut up about feeling like she is literally living in it since your aunt has shared her plans with you about your future position last year.

“I know, but it might be impressive if you already knew everyone!”

You have to give that to her, it would earn you a few good points if you knew the names already, you’re just still nervous about the whole thing. So many things could go wrong and you want it to be perfect.

At first you feel intimidated by all the influential people around you. Everyone here is one of the bests in their own field and you feel like an impostor, but then you remind yourself that you earned your spot. Your aunt wouldn’t have given you the company if she didn’t trust you entirely with it. You worth no less than anyone else in this ball room and that reminds you that… you’re that bitch.

Leslie’s knowledge of names actually comes handy. You love seeing people get shocked when they try to introduce themselves to you, but you already greet them saying their names. It earns you some appreciative looks as you make your way around the room. Everything is going smooth, right until you spot one particular man in the crowd.

You’re in a little circle with a few designers when your gaze falls on Harry who is standing across the room, talking to two men. The champagne almost slips from your hand when you realize it’s him.

“Leslie,” you grab her wrist catching her attention. “Les, who’s the man in the blue Gucci suit?” you ask in a whisper and she follows your gaze, finding the man in talk.

“Oh, that’s Harry Styles, head of Twisted.”

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you quickly excuse yourself from the conversation and head out to the balcony to get some fresh air before you faint right on the spot.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Leslie follows you.

“I messed up,” you squeak as you step outside, the chilly evening air hitting your uncovered skin immediately. “I messed up big time!”

“What? Why? What happened?”

Stepping to the edge, you wrap your hands around the railing, staring out into the void for a moment. Leslie Stands beside you, quite puzzled about your sudden panic.

“Remember the guy I told you about from Friday night?” you ask, keeping your voice down even though there’s no one really around. Leslie nods. “Well… he was the guy.”

Leslie glances back inside and then at you before her eyes widen and lips part in shock.

“You fucked Harry Styles at a club’s bathroom?!” she whisper-yells at you and you feel like a teenager who is getting scolded.

“I didn’t know who he was! And I genuinely think he didn’t know me either, how could he?! But now he is here and… Oh God, this is so bad,” you whine, your head dropping backwards as you let out a frustrated growl.

“Okay, don’t panic. Maybe… maybe he doesn’t remember you.”

“You can’t make me believe he doesn’t remember me after fucking me on a counter,” you tell her giving her a look.

“Alright, alright. Then… you just have to suck it up. It’s not like you can unfuck him,” she shrugs and though you know she is right, you just wish you could leave right now.

You never planned on seeing him again. Your bullshit speech about letting fate decide it was just an excuse to not give him your number. You didn’t want to because you thought he is not the kind of man that would be good for you. From his look you thought that he was either a fuckboy, not willing to commit to anything serious, or the kind of man that seems all nice and respectful at first but then turns out to be a total asshole and you’ve had enough of those in your twenty-eight years.

Soon enough you head back as the auction is about to start. Luckily, your seat is far away from Harry and it seems like he hasn’t noticed you yet. Though you wish to keep it that way, you can feel it coming already.

The auction goes by fast, you buy a new painting that will look amazing in your living room and almost twice as much money is raised through the evening that was the goal. You leave Leslie behind at the table as you go to the bar to get yourself another drink, probably your last one of the evening if you don’t want to end up making a fool out of yourself.

Patiently waiting at the bar you’re already thinking about watching Grey’s Anatomy when you get back and out of this tight dress. You look hot, but it’s not the comfiest look, if you’re being honest. There’s only one more person in front of you when you feel a little tap on your shoulder and turning around your stomach drops when you see the man you’ve been trying to avoid all evening.

“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N,” he nods shortly, his expression is quite blank, but he is definitely not shocked to see you. You tighten your jaw before looking away from him, squinting your eyes a bit.

“You don’t seem surprised,” you point out.

“I was kind of expecting to see you here tonight.”

“So you knew who I was all along?” you snap at him, but he shakes his head.

“Not until the stream this week. I was pretty shocked when you walked on stage.”

Nodding shortly you brush your hair over your shoulder and you catch Harry glimpsing down your body, but decide not to comment on it.

“Did you know who I was?” he then asks, digging his hands into his pockets.

“No, I wouldn’t sleep with my biggest competitor willingly.”

“Just from the abrupt ending I had a feeling that you might have known me.”

“Just because a woman doesn’t throws herself into your arms after a fuck, doesn’t mean she had ulterior motives,” you scoff. “Get off your high horse,” you add before turning back towards the bar so you can order your drink. Unfortunately, Harry doesn’t want the conversation to end just yet. His hand is laid flat on the counter in front of you as he stands on your right, a little too close to your liking. You can smell the expensive cologne on him, the same that hit your nose on Friday as well and suddenly your body is betraying you.

However crazy the situation is, you can’t deny that he gave you one of the best times last Friday. Men you dealt with were more concerned about their own pleasure and most of them didn’t even get you to finish. But Harry made it happen so fast and didn’t even bitch about it when you made him rub your clit. He just obeyed like a grownup man who is willingly take care of his partner. That almost made you change your mind about leaving, but once you came down from cloud nine, you returned to your original plan.

But not as he is standing in front of you and you can smell him, your senses trick you into thinking that you’re in that bathroom again, almost aching for him to touch you the way he did then. He leans closer to your ear as he speaks up again.

“Leave the drink, dance with me,” he tells you as the bartender places your drink in front of you. You debate what to do before grabbing the drink and chugging it down in one go. You’ll need the alcohol if you are about to dance with your enemy.

Harry takes you to the dance floor in the middle of the ball room, one of his hands finds the small of your back while the other takes your hand as the two of you start swaying to the gentle music played by the band.

“Your aunt set my company back in women’s fashion every time I tried to take a step forward. Are you going to do the same?”

“She didn’t do anything to set you back but to build her own company. Not everything is about you.”

“You sound a little naïve, Love. It’s pretty clear you are new in the business.” This statement riles you up big time. How dare he degrade you like that? He knows nothing about you, yet he assumes things that are not at all real.

Smirking to yourself you lean back enough so your gazes can meet. Your hand slides up from his shoulders to the base of his neck so your fingers can gently brush against his skin and you notice the shudder than runs down his spine. He is not the only one having flashbacks from your last encounter.

“Wanna know what I know about business?” you purr, his eyes glued to your red lips as you speak. “I know that… Twisted was one of the last sites to participate in personalized ads on online platforms, failing to reach it’s targeted audience as fast as literally everyone else. I know that your company and my company use the same security system in our server rooms yet I can assure you that it cost me twenty percent less because we waited a month before installing it and got a huge last minute discount because the security company was trying to boost their numbers for their end of year closing. And I also happen to know that you are working on a new design for your website that could easily be outshone if I just did the same before you could do it.”

Harry’s lips part, probably mostly at the last information. He has no idea how you know these stuff, but you have a wide circle of connections in the city, you have an insider at every big companies in the industry without them even knowing. You’ve given countless tips to your aunt through the years, that’s how she managed to stay on top of her games.

Leaning closer your lips almost brush against him and you see how he weakens, he is expecting you to kiss him and he wants it. But you just smile at him, your eyes snapping down to his lips before up to his eyes.

“I will not do the same as my aunt, Harry,” you softly speak, your fingers grazing the back of his neck. “I will do way worse things.”

And with that, you slip out of his arms and walk back to your table, leaving him standing there alone at a complete loss of words.

“What the fuck had gotten into you?” Niall grimaces upon hearing everything he told you on the evening of the charity event. And quite frankly, Harry has no answer to that. He has absolutely no idea what had gotten into him to act like such a dick when you didn’t do anything against him.

The situation just messed with his head, seeing you in that breathtaking dress, mingling with everyone, smiling and laughing, oh how he wished you were laughing on his jokes! But then you seemed so tensed when he came up to you and something just switched in him. He wanted to take dominance, to somehow get out of it on top, but he miserably failed. When you brought up their plans to change the design he completely froze.

“No idea, okay? I just…lost it,” he growls, sinking into the couch. When Niall found out that Harry met the woman from the club again he insisted on coming over with some wine to talk it out, but he was not expecting this kind of story at all.

“Dude, you just put yourself on her radar big time, maybe she wouldn’t have even bothered to compete with you like her aunt did, but you surely changed her mind now.”

“I know, Niall!” Harry growls, not in the mood to be scolded like a little child. “Do you think she’ll change their design before we do?” he peeks at his friend, but Niall just shrugs.

“No idea, but I would try to speed it up before she actually does it.”

Harry made you into a ticking bomb and you successfully got under his skin about the whole design project so first thing the next morning he went to Zayn to discuss a possible earlier debut for the new designs. Though it would be a close stretch, they agreed that it would go live by the end of the week and that got Harry somehow a little relieved, but in the middle of that he failed to put the right amount of effort into finding designers for their female lines.

When he meets up with Lambert a few days later he is not there to deliver great news. Apparently, three out of the four designers they were negotiating with recently pulled out of their deal and signed a contract with Cometa.

“We have one last designer on the list, but then… we are out of the bigger names,” Lambert sighs as Harry chews on his bottom lip anxiously. He feels like he has fallen into a hole a while ago and instead of climbing out he is just digging it deeper underneath him.

“Okay, do we have an appointment with them?” Harry asks.

“Yeah, I’m meeting her this afternoon.”

“I’m going with you,” he nods before standing from his chair and opening the door he calls out for his assistant. “Rebecca, please clear my schedule for this afternoon, I’ll be out of the office.”

Rebecca nods behind her desk, already starting to make calls about Harry’s meetings and appointments.

It’s obvious he is anxious about the meeting, because if it falls through they are forced to look for less known designers and that won’t bring the change for the company they’ve been seeking for a long time. Arriving to the showroom where the designer is working, Harry is setting his thoughts straight, determined to convince her to sign a contract with them. The two men are let into the building by the nice assistant working at the front desk and she shows the way to the showroom where Kennedy, the designer is waiting for them.

Harry is confident, he trusts his skills to make this happen, but when they walk inside he instantly freezes upon seeing an all too familiar figure standing with Kennedy

A maroon colored pantsuit is hugging your curves, a Hermés handbag hanging from your arm, your hair falling in loose curls. As if you could sense his presence, you peek over your shoulder, a devilish smirk on your lips when you see the shocked expression on Harry’s face.

“What a great surprise!” you beam, selling how happy you are to see him and in a way, you are. You wanted to see his face drop when he realizes you snatched yet another designer from him.

“Oh, Mr. Styles!” Kennedy smiles nicely at him and he finally snaps out of his trance, shaking hands with her and then turning to you, doing the same but in a lot colder manner.

“Y/N, nice to see you again,” he fakes a smile as your hand falls from his palm.

“I could say the same. But I’m heading out now. Great talk, Kennedy. I’ll be waiting for your call,” you wink at the young designer who seems to be thrilled by your words as she walks you to the exit.

“Fucking hell,” Harry mumbles under his breath and Lambert shoots him a look before Kennedy returns.

The three of them take a seat on the couches in the corner of the room and Harry is quick to get down to business, trying his best to make his offer appear more appealing than anything you told her right before their arrival. Kennedy listens intently, even takes notes and then she shows him some examples of what she was thinking about for her next line and Harry is beyond thrilled.

Unfortunately, soon comes the painful part.

“Harry, I’m gonna be honest with you,” Kennedy starts and Harry already knows what she is about to say. “Your offer is very tempting and it would be an honor to design a line for Twisted, but in my situation it would be more beneficial if I collaborated with Cometa. It is nothing against your company, it’s more about my personal path and growth.”

Harry can feel his stomach dropping and he clenches his jaw as he listens to Kennedy’s worth. He understands, of course he understands, she has the right to selfishly look at her own benefits upon signing with a new company, but he wished she would take the risk and chose his company instead of yours.

“I’m keeping the offer open for you still,” he forces a smile on his face. “If you change your mind, Twisted would be more than happy to work with you.”

Kennedy walks the two men out and the fake smile quickly vanishes from Harry’s face upon stepping out of the building.

“What are we going to do now?” Lambert asks, clearly worried about how they’re gonna move forward with their last chance falling.

“If Y/N wants a war, that’s what she’ll get,” Harry growls, revenge burning in the greens of his eyes.

It’s a quiet Friday afternoon, only hours left from the day before you are headed home finally. You’re sitting in your office with Leslie, going over next week’s schedule to make sure everything is set and clear.

It’s been almost an entire month since you stepped into your aunt’s shoes as head of the company and though the start was a little rough, especially with finding out who Harry was, but you feel like you have everything under your control by now. After all, you didn’t learn business for years from the bests for nothing, right?

Harry’s comment on you knowing nothing about the industry made you bitter, because he knows nothing about you and the struggle you went through your life to get to this point. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbow, being Julia’s niece might have been a hugely influencing aspect of you taking over, but you worked your ass off to be the best leader you can and not just ruin everything she built up through her whole life.

Though you didn’t always want to be the one following her, but you like to think that things worked out to your favor and you are where you should be.

“Alright, everything is looking fine,” Leslie smiles at you over her laptop. “I’ll send you the notes from today’s meeting.”

“Thank you. Can you call in with the delivery company about next month’s transactions?” you ask her and she nods, already adding it to her list of tasks for the rest of the day. “Alright. I’ll do the rest of the signings and then we can head out,” you smile at her.

Leslie is grabbing her things from the table when there’s a soft knock on the door. You give your permission and one of the tech support guys walk in with a worried look on his face.

“Miss Y/L/N? I’m afraid we have a problem,” he clears his throat and you can already feel your anxiety crawl up on your spine.

“What is it?” you ask firmly. The guy steps farther inside, fumbling with his fingers as he presents the issue.

“There’s been an attempt to break our software’s security system where we keep our data about the sellings. A-And I’m afraid it wasn’t just an attempt, they succeeded.”

You take a deep breath, glancing over at Leslie for a moment before you follow the man to the tech department to investigate the issue further. You don’t know shit about these stuff, but from what he said you know the trouble is huge and if you don’t solve it as soon as possible, valuable data could leak out to the public. They try to explain you what they are working on as of right now and that there’s not much you can actually help with.

“Make sure to put your extra hours on your attendance sheets and let me know when you are able to restore the system,” you tell them and you earn quite a few thank yous on your way out for actually paying the overtime. Then you turn to the guy that first came to your office. “Do you have any information about who it could have been?”

“We weren’t able to track them back, but whoever it was, they’re surely professionals and they might know the system from the inside.”

“What do you mean from the inside? Someone did it from the company?” you ask, eyebrows knitting together as you fold your arms on your chest.

“No,” he shakes his head. “We would have been able to track that back. I mean that they know the system, maybe they worked somewhere where the same one was used and they could see into it.”

It takes you a few moments before you realize what this really is and it has your blood boiling right away. Nodding shortly you exhale sharply through your nose.

“Thank you, please call me when it’s up and running again, I’ll take care of the rest,” you tell him before turning around you walk away.

When Leslie sees you approaching your office with a head practically turning red she is quick to jump to her feet, following you into the office.

“What’s happening?”

“Harry Styles, that’s what happening,” you snap as you grab your phone, purse and coat before heading out, not wasting another minute.

“What? Where are you going now?”

“To the devil himself,” you growl back and enter the elevator, leaving her alone with her questions.

Sitting in your car on your way to the headquarters of Twisted, you imagine every scenario you want to make happen when you arrive, most of them including hitting the man across his ridiculously handsome yet annoying face. He crossed a line with breaking into your system and stealing valuable data. Though you’re sure he wouldn’t dare to sell or publish it, because he would be in a big legal trouble if he did, he still had a glimpse into your numbers and that’s already an advantage. He is playing dirty and you’re not having any of it.

Arriving you burst through the doors and demand to see him. Though the woman behind the front desk tells you that you can’t see him without an appointment, you still get her to make a call up and naturally, Harry allows you to see him. The fucker might already have been waiting for you to show up. As you stand in the all glass elevator, on your way up to meet him you take a few deep breaths to keep your cool and not snap like a maniac, however it all vanishes when you see him waiting for you with that shit-eating grin on his face when you step out of the elevator.

“You’re lucky I didn’t go straight to the police with your little stunt, you fucker!” you snap, not able to hold back your swearing any longer.

“Do you have any evidence?” he tilts his head to the side and you don’t miss how his gaze runs down your body as you march towards him. You’d find it flattering in another situation, but right now you just want to punch him in the face.

“I’ll show some evidence down your throat, Styles, if you don’t stop messing with my security system,” you growl back, standing so close to him now that you see every tiny freckle and blemish on his face and the way how he clenches his jaw, holding his gaze on yours.

Without a word or invitation, you walk into the room that you suppose is his office and he follows with a soft chuckle.

“Did you hire a hacker just to mess with me?” you throw the question at him as he closes the door so his employees don’t hear everything.

“What if I did?” he shrugs, stepping to the tray on his desk that already has a glass of whiskey on it. He grabs the glass and simply lifts it to his lips, taking a tiny sip from it. “Oh, excuse my manners. Would you like a drink?”

“I’m driving,” you answer shortly. “You crossed a line, Harry,” you warn him.

“What line?” he chuckles, rather entertained by your rage. “After what you pulled with Kennedy, I think I went easy on you.”

“I didn’t pull anything, I just gave her a better offer! It’s not my fault she has better chances with my company!” you snap back, feeling your heartbeat fastening from the anger that’s boiling in your veins.

“You knew I wanted her to design for me, why couldn’t you just let one person out of your endless list? You already have everyone else, she was my last fucking chance!” Harry barks back, clearly having some built up tension in him as well.

“If you didn’t act like an arrogant asshole at the charity gala, I would have happily let you work with her, but then you felt the need to fucking degrade me! That’s why I didn’t let you get away with it!”

Harry opens his mouth to answer, but he quickly closes his mouth, probably knowing well you’re right. He did act shitty towards you that evening and he has no excuse for his behavior. You walk closer until there are just a few feet between the two of you, your eyes glued to his burning green gaze that’s staring back at you, but before you could speak up, he cuts you off.

“Well, you know. All is fair in… war and business,” he shrugs and you honestly barely can stop yourself from laughing at how stupid that just sounded. You can’t miss the twitch in the corner of his mouth as well and you can’t believe how easily he made you break out of your rage.

“Don’t try to make money out of writing slogans,” you huff shaking your head and now he is grinning widely. “Do you have the data?”

“I don’t,” he answers and you narrow your eyes at him.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” he chuckles. “I had it, but I already deleted it. I know it wasn’t ethical so as soon as it was handed to me I deleted it. I didn’t even look into it. I just wanted to scare you.”

“And how do I know your hacker doesn’t have it either?”

“Because he signed a contract that would cost him millions to break and I don’t think a junior in college who is still living in a dorm can afford that,” he points out and now you are somewhat convinced. You stare back at him for a few more seconds before nodding.

“Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours, how does that sound?” you offer generously.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he questions with a smug smirk that makes your arch an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing tomorrow evening?” he then asks and you can’t mask your surprise in front of him.

“That does not concern you, Styles,” you scoff, though it boosts your ego that even through all the hate you’ve been targeting at each other, he still wants you the same way he did at the club that evening. You can’t deny, this rivalry has sparked a few thoughts in you as well, but you are not going to fall into the same mistake you made that evening. You pay him another smirk before turning around and heading towards the door. “Stay out of my way, Styles!” you call back without looking at him, but you just know he is grinning at you, a growing sexual tension thickening the atmosphere in the room.

“Or what?” he smugly questions and you stop at the door, glancing back at him over your shoulder.

“Or… You said it yourself. All is fair in war and business,” you smirk before walking out of the office.

Following your visit to Harry’s office things take a… playful turn in your rivalry. The attempts and competing don’t stop, both of you are on each other’s radar, ruining and messing with each other’s projects and works whenever and wherever it’s possible, but it’s not as hateful as it was at the beginning. If something, it even helps you to always be on your toes and watch out for possible threats, not just from Harry but from everyone else.

Neither of you succeeds in evolving in each other’s field, Cometa keeps thriving in women’s fashion with a quite small variety offered for the gentlemen while Twisted fails to grow out of men’s fashion and venture to the ladies, but somehow it’s not as frustrating as it used to be before.

Harry keeps up his flirty acts and tries to ask you out every time your paths cross each other, but you relentlessly turn him down every time, only fueling him to keep chasing after you more the next time. It’s a thrilling and flattering little game, knowing that even with all the rivalry between the two of you, being the biggest competitors in the business… he still wants you.

New York fashion week rolls around and it’s by far one of your favorite times in the year. You managed to snatch an exclusive deal with YSL to release a special line just for the fashion week and it sold out in the first two hours, now waiting to be restocked in a few days. Cometa is thriving and your aunt has expressed her pride towards the work you’ve been doing at the company, so things are heading the right direction.

You knew Harry would be attending the same shows as you, but it’s fate or just luck that you are seated next to each other at one of the shows, giving you the chance to talk without any of you attempting to corrupt the other this time.

Harry is already sitting in his seat when you arrive wearing a custom made Gucci dress, something that immediately catches his eyes since he is a huge fan of the brand himself.

“Your fashion sense never disappoints, Y/N,” he beams up at you as you take the seat next to him.

“Hope that’s not surprising, Styles,” You smirk at him, taking a glance at his own Gucci outfit, the checkered pants fitting him perfectly while the pussy bow adds some spice to the whole outfit, you have to admit. He looks good, he always does.

“Any plans after the show?” he asks right before the lights go out and the show starts. You leave him without an answer, just let out a soft chuckle as you glue your eyes to the first model who walks the runway.

Once the show is over you head out with Harry by your side, having an actually entertaining discussion about the designs you just saw. He might not be an expert in fashion, but he has developed a good sense through his years.

As you make your way out of the venue you are stopped by an interviewer and Harry remains on your side as the woman asks you a few questions about the show.

“I’ve always wondered, does it bother you that you couldn’t be on the runway yourself? You’ve been sitting front row the past years, but you once had aspirations of being a model yourself, is that right?”

The question makes you tense up and you can feel Harry’s puzzled look on you from the side.

“It’s not like it was my fault for not making it up there,” you sass back, forcing a smile to your face.

“Well, that’s not entirely true,” the woman chuckles and it has your blood boiling, because you know the real meaning behind her words.

It’s your fault you didn’t become a model because you were never thin enough to be one. It was your fault and not the industry’s to hold impossible standards to women who wanted to succeed as a model.

The smile falters from your face and you take a long, judgmental look at the woman in front of you. Because if she is brave enough to talk like that to you, you’re not gonna shy away from bringing her spirits down either.

“Judging from your appearance and attitude you wouldn’t make it either,” you spitefully reply and her smile quickly fades, clearly shocked at your answer. You open your mouth again, ready to continue, but then you feel a hand on the small of your back and you realize Harry is still standing next to you.

“Come on, we have somewhere to be, right?” he smiles kindly as you just simply nod and walk away from the woman before she could offend you again.

Harry senses your tension as the two of you leave the venue but doesn’t try to talk to you and that’s a wise choice from him. As you step out of the building you realize that if you went home now you’d probably get drunk on your own and let that comment get to you more than you should. So instead of doing that you turn to Harry.

“So, what are our plans?” you ask and you don’t miss the small smile on his lips as he stares back at you.

Not in the mood to stay around people at a bar you accept Harry’s invitation to his place, since it’s also close. The contrast between his extravagant penthouse and your cozy but still quite modern townhouse in Park Slope is major, but you didn’t expect anything less from the man.

You’ve managed to calm down since you left the venue, but you’re still quite bitter about the comment the woman made. Harry hasn’t tried to ask you about it, but you can tell he is dying to know more about the situation that’s behind the madness.

He fixes you a drink and you find yourself sinking into his comfortable and probably ridiculously expensive couch in his living room area.

“I used to want to be a model,” you start, breaking the silence that settled between the two of you. “When I was a teen. I was a lot thinner, I was a competitive dancer until I was seventeen, but I had a knee injury, so I had to quit.”

Harry sits on the other end of the couch, listening to you with patience as he sips on his own drink.

“I was never as thin as the other models at the agency I was trying to get into, but I definitely wasn’t overweight. Yet, they labelled me as a plus size model. I was a healthy, strong young girl with a perfectly good body, yet they told me that I was too fat to be a model.”

Glancing at Harry, you can tell that he is surprised at the information he just learned. He is probably picturing you thinner now, going to model castings and if you’re being honest you enjoyed that part. The trouble came when you got rejection after rejection, telling you to lose weight and come back after that.

“I quit my whole plan to be a model and studied fashion and business instead, consciously working my way towards this point. But I never got over how the industry made me feel less of a person because I wasn’t a size zero.”

For a few long moments Harry just stares at you and it’s actually nice that he doesn’t try to make you feel better right away, praising you how you are perfect just the way you are. Because you’re not, but that’s fine because no one is.

“I’ve honestly never seen a more cruel industry than fashion before,” he then speaks up. “I didn’t grow up in it and still don’t really have that much and deep connection with it, but I know how fucked up it is. And it’s nice to see that you know your worth even after everything that happened.”

Your gaze meets his and you’re looking for any sign that gives away that he is just messing with you, but it’s all genuine. You just shoot him a small smile before lifting your drink to your lips. It’s the most intimate moment you’ve shared with him, including the ones you had in that bathroom.

“Okay, now you tell me something about your life,” you prompt, wanting to divert the conversation on him a little bit.

“What do you want to know?” he asks with a soft chuckle.

“Why did you name your brand Twisted?” you ask. The question has been on your mind for a while.

“It’s coming from my mum’s name. Anne Twist.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, you weren’t expecting such a deep and personal reason behind the name, connected to a family member.

“Why her?”

“Why not?” he smirks shrugging his shoulders. “She raised me and my sister up, I wouldn’t be here without her. It was obvious I would make her be part of it in some kind of way.”

“That’s actually very nice. Who knew that you could be something other than an egoistic asshole!” you joke, making him laugh as well.

“Okay, what’s the meaning behind your brand?” he then turns it back around.

“Well, my aunt met her husband when they were very young, maybe eighteen. She fell in love with Fabio on her trip to Italy and being the impulsive and adventurous woman that she is, she stayed for a month there just because of Fabio. He is a very passionate man and he was always ready to bring the stars down for Julia. He always used to tell her that he would even catch a comet for her, if that’s what she wanted. And that was my aunt’s favorite saying from him. Cometa is comet in Italian. It’s her tribute to the love of her life.”

“That’s easily the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” Harry hums and you just smile nodding at him. It really is like a fairytale and it’s also one of the reasons why you were so happy to take her place at Cometa. Julia is still just as in love with Fabio as she was at eighteen and she deserves to spend more time with her beloved husband. She earned the time off after all the sacrifices she made for the company and all through them Fabio stayed by her side. It’s their well-earned happy ending now.

“You know a lot about romantic things?” you cock an eyebrow at him, finishing up your drink.

“Actually, I’m a quite romantic guy.”

“Are you now?”

“Yeah, you just never gave me the chance to show it to you.”

“Oh, so now I’m the bad guy?” you chuckle, handing him your glass when he stands from the couch to get you a refill.

“Exactly!” he chuckles holding up your empty glass on his way. “I hope you know you absolutely broke my heart when you didn’t give me your number that night.”

“Oh, you poor little thing,” you chuckle, resting your head in your palm, your elbow on the back of the couch. “I’m not sorry though. You didn’t give out the right vibes.”

“The right vibes?” he huffs as he returns with your drink and now sits a little closer to you. “What vibe did I give you?” “The vibe that told me I shouldn’t mess with you,” you simply answer as you take a sip from your refilled drink.

“You were so keen on hating me even before you knew who I was, I can’t believe you,” he chuckles shaking his head.

“I’m just cautious!” you protest. “I’ve dealt with some problematic men in the past, I can’t let myself walk right into another one that easily.”

“What did they do?”

“Some men just can’t treat women right. Especially confident ones with a body like mine,” you simply shrug.

Men like to think that bigger girls are so terribly insecure about their body that they need the validation of a male to feel good about themselves. But when you’re confident and feel good in your own skin without needing them to praise you, they think that you’re egoistic, so full of yourself and they are quick to try to drag you down. That’s something you can’t tolerate. You don’t need a man to feel good about yourself, you don’t need anyone for that. You know your worth and that’s all that matters.

Harry’s eyes travel down your body, taking his time on your curves and you smile shaking your head as you reach out and cupping his chin you pull his head up so he is looking into your eyes.

“I honestly can’t see what problem anyone could have with your body. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since our bathroom fiasco,” he bluntly comments making you chuckle, even flattered by his words.

“You are such a flirt,” you grin at him and he doesn’t try to protest.

You stay for a couple more drinks and you drop the heavier topics, venturing over to music, fashion and any funny stories that come to your mind. Harry is actually amazing company when you’re not trying to jump at each other’s throat and for a few short hours you forget that he is supposed to be your competitor.

You’re a little tipsy, but you are definitely not drunk, so when Harry offers you to stay the night you turn it down, calling yourself a car since you are not in the right state to drive.

“I’ll come and pick my car up in the morning,” you breathe out as you put your heels back on that came off your feet sometime during the evening, making yourself home in his place.

“I’ll text you the security number to the garage,” he nods, walking you to the elevator.

“Thank you. And… I guess thank you for the evening,” you smile at him, turning to face him. He is standing close, but still takes a step closer, one of his hands finding your waist as he pulls you against his chest. Your palms lie flat on his chest as you try to get yourself to the right mindset to leave now before you regret doing something. Leaning down his nose nudges against your cheek, before he presses a soft kiss under below your ear, a sigh escaping your lips.

“I should go, the car is here,” you breathe out, but don’t move.

“Mm, okay,” he hums, his lips peppering kisses on your jaw and your cheek, as if you didn’t say a word. You want to continue it, not just because of the alcohol but because the sexual tension between the two of you has been growing since that charity gala, but the remainder of your rationality stops you before your lips could meet.

“Bye Harry,” you smile at him softly as you push him away and you walk into the elevator, leaving him hanging. Again.

“Bye Y/N. I’m still going to try to ruin your company!” he calls after you as you turn around to face him, the sliding doors slowly closing between the two of you.

“Same back at you, Styles,” you smirk before the door closes and you are taken down.

Well, that was a lie. Following your evening at his place neither of you really tries to work against the other, leaving each other be without any fuss. It might also have something to do with how you kept in touch after that day. You’ve been texting occasionally, attending some events together, even had a business dinner together with a few other peers from the industry. Things have been quiet and you’ve been feeling content with the current state you’ve managed to reach. Or so you thought.

It was a silent agreement between the two of you. You both put your projects aside that targeted the other’s profile. Harry stopped looking for designers for his women lines and you put your men department to the side as well. There were a lot to work on beside these fields so you felt like you were in peace. Right until Leslie bursts into your office on a casual Tuesday.

“Have you seen this?” she asks, placing a tablet in front of you with an Instagram account open on it.

You want to ask what you’re supposed to look at, but then you realize what it really is. A shiny new account for a new brand that promises to take online shopping to the next level; female and male as well.

“You think it could be…?” you ask, not quite convinced that Harry is behind this.

“Well, the wording is similar to theirs and creating a new brand might be a solution to their gap in women’s fashion,” she points it out, though you don’t want to believe he could have been working on this all along, basically in front of your face.

But it’s a possibility and you have to consider this option before jumping into defending him without any proof.

“Men can’t be trusted,” you grumble under your breath before jumping into work.

What you didn’t know is that an eerily similar situation goes down in Harry’s office as well when Zayn bursts in, showing him the ad he found for the new brand called Farfalla.

Harry immediately digs up everything about the company, though there’s not much other than their new Instagram account and heavy marketing that started just yesterday.

“What is Farfalla even?” he grimaces leaning back in his chair.

“It means butterfly in Italian,” Zayn explains and Harry’s eyes flicker up to him.

“Italian? You think it’s her?”

“It’s possible,” Zayn nods. “Starting a new brand to finally reach men’s fashion is a good idea.”

“She wouldn’t have done this,” Harry shakes his head in disbelief. Could you be working on this all along? Was this your plan from the start? To make him fall for you and forget about business while you built up your new empire to ruin him?

“What if she did?” Zayn prompts and in a way his suspicion is valid, but Harry is having a hard time believing it. You would never play him this dirty, not after how the two of you have grown closer in the past weeks, almost became friends.

“What are you going to do?” Zayn asks him as he pushes himself away from the desk and quite obviously starts getting ready to leave.

“She is not getting away from this,” Harry mumbles under his breath as he grabs his coat and phone before storming out of the office.

It’s past six when Harry gets to Cometa’s building and he is informed that you’ve already went home. He could have just come back in the morning, but he knew he would just stew in his own anger if he didn’t talk to you as soon as possible. So using his charm he gets the woman sitting behind the front desk to share your address with him, saying that he needs to talk to you urgently. That’s how he finds himself heading to Park Slope, slightly surprised you are not living somewhere in the heart of Manhattan.

As the scenery around his changes, skyscrapers turning into brick buildings and townhouses, Harry tries to figure out what he even wants to say to you. Should he just get straight down to business and accuse you? Snap at you? Or should he give you the chance to explain yourself? He can’t really make up his mind, mostly because he still feels like you betrayed him even though he can’t be sure Farfalla is yours.

Parking down at the address he got from the woman, he stares up at the deep red brick townhouse, a simple, black door at the top of the stairs that’s lined with a few potted plants and flowers. This is not what he would have imagined your home like, but now that he is standing on your doormat, he realizes it kind of suits you.

Ringing the bell he hopes that you’re home and not out and about somewhere in the city, but when he hears the familiar sound of heels clicking on the floor he knows you are on the other side. When the front door flings open and you come into his sight, for a split second he forgets why he is here and his anger vanishes. As always, you look amazing, a tight, black dress hugging your curves, the middle part appearing like it’s a corset, emphasizing the dip of your waist. Your hair is let down in loose curls and your feet are bare, but he knows you probably wore heels all day. You must have gotten home not long ago and as your eyes fall on the man at the door, your expression hardens on him.

“You really had the balls to come her, huh?” you cock your head to the side, keeping your eyes on his green ones for a moment before you let him inside.

“Did you think you could get away with it?” he huffs walking into the hallway and stopping as you close the door and turn to him.

“Me? I could say the same! You thought I would just ignore it or what? I proved you a few times that I’m not stupid, Harry,” you retort, folding your arms on your chest as you walk past him, into the kitchen and he follows.

“You surely are not stupid, playing me so dirty behind my back!” Harry spats standing his ground. “Playing all friendly and nice and then make a fool out of me!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you question narrowing your eyes at him as you lean against the kitchen island’s counter. “If anyone played dirty it’s you! And you have the balls to come here and talk like this to me in my own fucking home?!” you snap, walking closer to him, keeping your deathly glare on him.

“What the fuck did I do?!” he scoffs throwing his hands into the air.

“You created a whole new brand just to fuck with me! Or did you think I wouldn’t find out about it?!”

“Me? You made a new brand! And you didn’t do a great job hiding the fact that it was your work, even the name is Italian, like your current one!”

You stare back at him, tilting your head to the side as you process what he is talking about. All along, the two of you were accusing each other of something neither of you did.

“Harry,” you breathe out, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Farfalla is not my brand.”

“And I’m supposed to believe it?!”

“Well you better be because it’s the fucking truth!”

“Prove it!” he hisses at you, taking a step closer, his face only inches away from yours now.

“Until about twenty seconds ago I thought that it was your new brand, Harry. I thought that you were the one who backstabbed me!” you snap back, standing up for yourself in this giant misunderstanding you fell into, accusing each other without any proof.

Harry stares back at you, his gaze burning into yours as he stands his ground and you can almost see the gears turning in his head as he processes your words.

“So… it’s not yours? You didn’t do it to fuck me up?”

“Of course not!” you breathe out, suddenly quite tired of all the anger that’s been eating you away through the afternoon. “I thought that we had a kind of silent agreement not to mess with each other so I wasn’t planning anything anytime soon. That’s why I got so mad when I thought you did it!”

“I thought the same!” he growls shaking his head. “I thought you did it all to just make me look stupid, that the friendly act was just so I wouldn’t notice a thing and I fell right into your trap.”

“There was no trap,” you simply tell him and you hope he senses the hidden meaning behind your words.

Luckily he does. But for your biggest surprise there’s no snarky comment or smug smirking, he just steps closer and before you could even protest, his hands find your waist and he pulls you against his hard chest, lips hungry attacking yours. He makes you back until you bump against the kitchen island, his hips pressing against yours as he pushes you against the hard surface, his hands wandering on your sides and back, up and down, exploring every curve of your body while his kisses never slow down, your tongues meeting in the middle.

Bringing up a leg you curl it around his hips, your heel digging into his round ass as he leans forward, making you arch your back, leaning onto the counter as his lips move from your lips to your jawline and neck, his fingers digging into your waist and the thigh that’s lifted by his side. He nibbles on the soft skin of your neck, definitely leaving a mark, but you just comb your fingers through his hair, letting yourself get lost in the sensation.

“As much as I would love to fuck you on a counter again, can we take this to a bedroom?” he mumbles as he kisses his way back up to your lips, smirking against them as he captures them again.

You don’t answer, just grab his hand and pull him upstairs with you, right into your bedroom. He is all over you, lips, hands, tongue, pressed up against you as the two of you stumble your way to your king sized bed. Harry’s fingers fidget with the corset on your dress, but he soon realizes it’s a little trickier than he expected, so leaning back he furrows his eyebrows as he glances down at the dress, still trying to figure out how to get you out of it.

“Harry,” you smile at him softly. “It’s faux. There’s a zipper at the back,” you inform him and he sighs in defeat as he kisses you again, his fingers quickly finding the zipper. The dress pools at your feet and you rid him from his jacket and shirt, revealing his inked chest, a sight you’ve been thinking about way too much lately.

By the time the two of you fall to your bed, neither of you are dressed in more than just your underwear. Because both of you like to be in charge, you roll around for a while, trying to get on top of each other but eventually Harry stays up when he starts going down on you, kissing his way through your heated skin. You don’t shy away when his hands snake under your back and easily unclasps your bra, being bare in front of him is not something that makes you feel uncomfortable or insecure. The way he looks at you, the way he makes you feel brings you so much confidence, you have absolutely no problem being nude.

When your bra flies to the floor, Harry leans back a little to admire you lying there, before his lips find their way over the curve of your breasts, down your stomach. Hooking his fingers into the elastic of your panties he tugs them down easily as you lift your hips, your thighs parting as you bare yourself in front of him.

“Don’t be shy about screaming my name,” he smugly tells you before his lips and tongue meet your clit. Your fingers lace through his hair immediately as you gasp out at the sensation, his tongue drawing the whole fucking alphabet to your bundle of nerves. His arms curl around your thighs, ring clad fingers digging into your flesh as he sucks on the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Harry! Yes!” you moan out, tugging on his locks when he teases his tongue around your hole, your walls tightening around nothing as you are growing desperate to feel something inside of you.

You pull on his hair, signaling him that you want to get it on with, Hands reaching down to get rid of his boxer briefs before you blindly pull out the drawer of your nightstand, grabbing a condom. His lips eagerly meet yours as he wraps his erected cock and though you would love to have a taste of him like he did with you, you just want to feel him inside you.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he growls against your lips, teasing you with running just the head up and down your slit.

“If you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna rip your guts out,” you warn him, earning a soft chuckle as he kisses you again, tongue pushing into your mouth as he finally pushes inside you, his long, thick cock filling you up perfectly and it somehow feels even better than the first time.

“Go hard,” you gasp, a hand coming to grab his ass as you push him even further into you. He doesn’t need more, he starts slamming into you, his hips meeting yours roughly with each thrust, his whole length disappearing inside you every time.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck, licking and sucking on the soft skin. You almost think about telling him not to mark you, but it just turns you on even more so you let him do whatever he wants.

“I want to see you on top,” he pants, lifting his head so his gaze could meet yours. You nod, before the two of you turn around and you straddle his hips, guiding him back inside you as you sink down his length. Your hands are sprawled out on his hard chest as you find your balance in the position, Harry’s eyes roaming your body up and down, not able to get enough of how blissful you look, sitting with his cock buried inside of you, enjoying yourself to the fullest. His hands run up your thighs and upper body until they find your breasts, kneading them as you start moving your hips up and down, back and forth. When you moan his name or gasp because his cock reaches that one particular spot inside you, those are the moments he wishes he could capture on camera and watch whenever he wants.

“I want it from back,” you pant as you lean down and kiss him roughly. That’s all he needs, he helps you get off of him before you get on all four, pushing your butt up in the air while Harry kneels behind you, the sight in front of him hardening his cock even more, if that’s possible. His hands grab onto your waist as he pushes inside you, making you both let out a satisfied moan before he starts moving again.

“Fuck, you look so good like this, Y/N. I love your ass,” he growls, giving it a smack that surprises you, but you absolutely love it.

“Harry, go faster!” you whimper, feeling your orgasm nearing as you grip the comforter on the bed, desperate to reach your climax. You’re just about to reach down between your legs to play with your clit when Harry not only picks his pace up but also reaches around you, two of his fingers starting the circling motions on the bundle of nerves, making your legs shake from the pleasure.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me, cum all over my cock,” he growls, railing you from behind without missing a beat.

“Harry!” you scream when he thrusts into you so harshly, your whole body rocking in the motion.

“Come on, angel. Cum for me,” he murmurs and leaning down he wraps his arms around you, bringing you up straight, your back pressing against his sweaty chest, his hands coming to cup your breasts as he keeps thrusting up into you, pushing you over the edge.

You moan and gasp and scream his name as your walls tighten around his length, riding out your bliss and it helps him reach his own high, his hot breath hitting the back of your neck and shoulder, grunting and cursing under his breath as he fills the condom.

As his thrusts come to a halt, he sinks into a sitting position, bringing you with him, you lean against him feeling like jelly as you’re still just trying to catch your breath. Harry peppers your shoulder with small kisses before you muster the energy to break the position and lie down on the bed.

“Towel is in the bathroom,” you tell him knowing that’s what he’ll look for as he stands from the bed and you point at the door that leads to the joined bathroom. Harry nods and pads his way in there, cleaning himself up before he returns with a small damp towel, doing the same for you. He drops it to the floor next to the bed before joining you, cradling you into his arms as you take a breather together.

One hand is on your shoulder, fingers dancing on the naked skin, the other one is holding your thigh that’s across his lap while your head is resting on his chest.

“You really thought I would backstab you like that?” he hums after a while, breaking the comfortable silence.

“You did the same,” you answer, lifting your head, resting your chin on his chest.

“Touché,” he chuckles, before leaning down he kisses you shortly. “So, if neither of us did it, then we have a quite major problem on our hands.”

“I know,” you hum. “That shit looks promising and they can easily ruin both of us.”

Harry stays silent for a little, but you can see the gears turning in his head. When his gaze snaps back at you, you know he has an idea.

“Unless… we join forces.” Your eyebrows arch as you stare back at him. “I know it’s a risky move, but this is the only way to stay on the top.”

“How much you want to be joined?”

“We could start with just one line, the men part designed by someone from me and the women by someone from you. And if it presents well we can just figure out where to go from there. Obviously, the men part would be sold by us and the women by you, but we could join the pages and direct users to each other’s sites in connection with the lines.”

“That could… actually work,” you nod shortly, thinking about the idea. It needs a lot of planning, but it could actually be a big hit if you do it right. “And you’re willing to partner with me?” you ask cheekily as you push yourself up into a sitting position, Harry doing the same.

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m willing to do about anything with you,” he chuckles, making you smile at his playful answer. “I hope you know I’m not talking about just business,” he then adds with a meaningful look.

“You are still so keen on this?” you sigh, tugging your hair behind your ear.

“Do you not like being with me?”

“I do, surprisingly,” you roll your eyes, making him laugh.

“Do you not like having sex with me?”

“I think the answer is pretty obvious to that,” you give him a look as he smirks back at you.

“Yeah, but I want to hear it.”

“I enjoy having sex with you, Harry,” you roll your eyes again, but he just kisses you short but hard before leaning back.

“So then why shouldn’t we date?”

“Because we are competitors?”

“We just agreed that we should join forces. We are partners now.”

“You are running a little ahead, Harry,” you cock an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know, I haven’t been in a relationship in ages. I probably suck at it at this point,” you shrug, but it’s just a lame excuse and you both know that. Leaning closer Harry smirks at you smugly.

“I have something else you can suck.” You smack his chest at his nasty remark, but can’t push a smile back. His hand finds the back of your head as he pulls you in for another kiss. “I want you, Y/N. I really do. You are all I think about even when you are an annoying piece of shit, getting under my skin. I still want you.”

“Wow, so romantic,” you chuckle shaking your head. “What if we can’t get over our differences in the business? That can easily poison any relationship.”

“Then we’ll have a lot of mind-blowing angry and makeup sex. Those are the best. We can put all our frustration into sex, I think that’s just perfect.”

“What are you, a horny teenager? Sex is all you can think about?” you chuckle.

“It is when I’m lying in a bed with you naked. You can’t blame me,” he grins smugly and you want to hate him, you want to hate him so badly, but you can’t. You want him just as much as he wants you.

“So… partners?” he prompts, tilting his head to the side with a sweet smile as he waits for your answer.

“Partners in business and life?”

“Mhm, that’s the plan,” he nods, his smile growing wider with each passing second.

“Alright,” you breathe out. “So… it’s not—All is fair in war and business?” you ask teasingly, using his own words from earlier.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he laughs, pulling you in for another kiss.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

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

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lumosandnoxwriting · 3 years

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Forever Just Isn’t Enough - George Weasley

Title: Forever Just Isn’t Enough Pairing: George x Fem!Reader Warnings: NSFW!! Fingering, female receiving oral, unprotected sex, dirty talk, cockwarming, feeling full kink ?? again idk if that’s a real thing but oh well Extra Warnings: major character death!! Minor character death. Slightly alcoholism, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief and dealing with grief, one comment that could allude to suicide, mentions of death and infant loss, mentions of blood and blood loss. Mentions of injuries. Mentions of childbirth. Summary: just when things seem like they can finally fall into place, everything nearly falls apart. Will George and Y/N really get their forever? Or will their dreams crumble around them? A/N: summary is shit but here it is! Here is its, the mammoth that is good girl part 3!! This fic has been nearly a month in the making and it is officially the longest thing I’ve ever written!! It’s 23k words so buckle up! This really is the final part, and I have definitely become attached to this universe. Everything in italics is flashbacks!! I would like to give a huge thanks to @pineapplesandpinas who left a reply on one of my posts that actually inspired this fic! I’d also like to give a huge thanks to the person who gave me some editing help and is coincidentally the person who requested this in the first place, I hope you like it!! As always feedback is welcome! Tags: @feltondarling @pandaxnienke @raerae27 @allforthexgame @pigwidgexn @hufflrpuffforfred @wand3ringr0s3 @whiz-bangs78 @gcdric @starlightweasley @vogueweasley @theweasleysredhair @dracoswhore007 @lexymoniqu @amourtentiaa @mischiefisbeingmanaged Read Part 1 here, Read Part 2 here

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Y/N’s chest heaves with deep breathes as she runs down a corridor, watching walls crumble as they get hit with stray curses. She used to be able to walk through Hogwarts with her eyes closed and know exactly where she was in any given moment. But now her heart hammers in her chest as she stands at the junction of two different hallways, unsure of where they’ll lead her. Y/N can hear footsteps barreling towards her, and in a moment of panic she heads to the left, gripping her wand tightly in her hand.

Her legs carry her as fast as they can down the hallway as she silently prays to find someone she knows. By the time she clambered into the room of requirement from the passageway that starts at the Hogs Head Inn preparations for the impending battle were already in full swing and the Order was spread out around the entire castle. Y/N had caught a flash of red hair as she helped Cho Chang cast a protection spell, but by the time she turned her head it was already gone. Death Eaters reached the castle nearly 30 minutes ago, and Y/N has been on her own the entire time, casting curses and spells at them as she searched for Ginny or Hermione. For George. She’s already seen a few bodies lying still on the floor, and her heart is in her stomach with the thought that George could be one of them. Laying lifeless in some hallway all by himself.

Y/N starts to slow down as a wall approaches and she can hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears. A dead end. The footsteps behind her persist, and she has no choice but to stop as she reaches the end of the hallway, turning around to face her fate. She raises her wand as she looks at the person coming up towards her, but it falters slightly as a familiar face stops just a few feet away. “Adrian?”

Adrian grins as he takes a few steps closer to Y/N, but it’s not the same fond smile he’d shared with her many times. It’s wicked, evil almost and Y/N tries to swallow the lump that’s suddenly formed in her throat as memories of the last time she’d seen Adrian come swirling to the forefront of her mind.

Y/N turns around when she feels a tap on her shoulder, a wide smile on her face. Seven years of hard work has all lead to this: graduation day. She feels absolutely euphoric, and when she turns around and spots Adrian she pulls him into a hug – too excited to second guess herself. It’s the first time they’ve hugged in nearly half a year and while it feels familiar, it’s mostly awkward.

After the conversation Y/N and George had on the train ride back to school from winter break Y/N really made a conscious effort to start a new life with George. The way they had been operating as a couple was only leading them towards disaster, and they were both willing to do anything to avoid that possibility.

The main change they made together was to spend more time together as a couple that didn’t involve getting rid of their clothes. Instead of sitting with each other’s friends during meals all the time, they decided to sit on their own a few times a week so they would get a chance to just talk to each other and reconnect after a crazy day. Y/N started to spend the night over in George’s dorm with him, and while they did have sex most of the time, they took the time to just lay there and hold each other too. While Y/N was busy doing her homework in the library George would just sit there with her, sometimes working on stuff for the joke shop, but sometimes just sitting there and watching her work.

But by far the biggest change was one that rested in Y/N’s hands alone, she needed to set new boundaries with Adrian. Her friends had become her security blanket over the years, their friendship began on that first train ride to Hogwarts, when they were all nervous and scared. She relied on them heavily to be her emotional support, and when George came into her life Y/N made no efforts to change any of that. Y/N had thought George could just slip into their friend group as if he had always been there, but it quickly became clear that wasn’t the case.

Her relationship with Adrian was definitely the biggest point of contention in her and George’s relationship, and was thus the one thing that really changed. It was common for her and Adrian to be physically affectionate towards each other. An arm around the shoulders, a tight hug after a long day, even the occasional hand holding. Y/N hadn’t realized how that might hurt George, and so she put a stop to it immediately. On the occasions where she did sit with her friends at meals she stuck by Daphne’s side, instead of falling into her usual seat next to Adrian. She stopped wearing his Quidditch jumpers to their matches and she made sure to quiet his flirtatious comments, reminding him that she has a boyfriend now, and comments like that make her and George uncomfortable.

So now being close with Adrian feels too close, and while he tries to linger in her grasp Y/N pulls away with a tight grin. “I can’t believe it, we’re finally done!”

“This is the last chance we have, Y/N,” Adrian starts, placing his hands on her hips. Before Y/N can shake off his grasp Adrian lurches forward and presses their lips together.

Y/N moves her face away and tries to push Adrian off of her. “Adrian, stop. I’m with George, you know that.”

“But you could be with me. You should be with me,” Adrian tells her, tightening his grip on her hips. “That’s how it was supposed to be, Y/N. Marcus and Daphne would get married, we would get married. Our kids would grow up together, we’d stand on the same platform we met on holding hands as we send our kids off to school. I love you. And you were supposed to love me too.”

Before Y/N has a chance to respond, a familiar hand is grabbing Adrian’s shoulder and pulling him away from Y/N. George stands in between them, and while Y/N can’t see George’s face, she can tell from the way his back muscles are tensed that he’s pissed.

“What the hell are you doing, Pucey?” George spits. “Y/N doesn’t feel that way about you. She never has and she never will. If this wasn’t supposed to be a special day for her I’d knock your fucking lights out like I’ve wanted to since November. So, get the fuck out of here before I make you get the fuck out of here.”

Y/N wraps her arms around George’s neck as he turns around, watching Adrian stalk off over his shoulder.

“Long time no see, Y/N,” he taunts, keeping his wand pointed at her.

Y/N tightens her grip on her wand, keeping it at his chest. Their friendship may have ended in disaster, but she hopes that the years of memories they had before that keep him from doing anything. Adrian may not be the person she thought he was, but Y/N doesn’t want to hurt him. “How’ve you been?” she asks, trying to keep her voice even.

Adrian scoffs. “Don’t act like you care about me now, Y/N. You had your chance to be with me. And you gave it up, for what? True Love?” his voice is mocking, condescending and it makes Y/N’s stomach turn. “But where’s Weasley now? When you need him most?” Adrian’s eyes fall from Y/N’s face to her neck and she lets out a gasp as he places his wand on her chest and lifts up the end of her necklace with it. The tip of his wand is now directly in front of her neck, and a cold sweat runs down her back. “Still wearing this cheap necklace, I see. If you were mine you’ d be dripping with diamonds and pearls. You’d want for nothing.”

“All I want is George,” Y/N answers firmly. Y/N hasn’t taken the necklace George gave her for their first Christmas together off since the day he put it on her neck. It’s like a promise ring, it’s George’s promise of forever, and in these times she’s needed it now more than ever. “So, go head and kill me, or Crucio me, or do whatever you want. But I’m gonna die thinking about George, I’m going to die loving George. And I hope that knowledge drives you crazy for the rest of your life.” Y/N closes her eyes as Adrian’s mouth opens, getting ready to cast her own curse. But before either of them can say anything a familiar voice is casting a curse of their own.

“Stupefy!” George shouts, his wand aimed directly at Adrian’s back.

Y/N’s eyes pop back open as Adrian’s body slumps to the ground, and there George is, standing just a few feet away, his stance firm and his wand raised high. Tears start to spill down her cheeks as she steps over Adrian’s unconscious body before Y/N is running at full speed towards her boyfriend and jumping into his open arms. “Oh my god Georgie,” she sobs, pressing her face into his neck.

“Hi teacup,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms firmly around her waist. He can hear her laugh at the nickname, and George presses a kiss to Y/N’s temple. “I’ve been looking all over for you, darling. I’ve been losing my fucking mind.”

Y/N pulls away from George’s neck so she can kiss him desperately. It’s been far too long since she last saw him, and Y/N can’t help but think about the last time George held her like this.

“Y/N! Grab my hand!” George shouts, reaching out to her.

Y/N shouts a curse at a snatcher as she runs towards George, gripping onto his hand tightly with her own. She shuts her eyes tight as George pulls her into his chest, and it feels like all the air is being sucked from her lungs as George disapperates them to safety.

“Fucking hell,” Y/N groans as she lands on her back in the middle of a field, George landing right on top of her. George’s fingers dig into her sides and Y/N laughs as she pushes at his shoulders. “Get off of me you oaf I’m suffocating!”

They both giggle as George rolls off of Y/N, settling on his back next to her. “Are you okay, teacup?”

Y/N takes a few deep breaths, trying to find the answer to George’s question. Official Order business put them in the middle of some forest on the outskirts of Essex, and just before they were leaving they ran into a band of snatchers. They ran and fought them for nearly 20 minutes before George had managed to take them to wherever they are now.

“I’m okay,” Y/N answers honestly a few minutes later. She turns onto her side so she can look down at George. “Are you doing okay? Where are we?”

“Aunt Muriel’s house is about 100 yards north of us, we used to play Quidditch out here when we’d visit her as kids. It’s the only place I could think of that would be safe and secluded.” George reaches up and tucks a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear. “I’m doing okay. Better now that I’m here with you.”

Y/N smiles at George sadly and leans down to kiss him softly. After the ministry fell Y/N left her training program at St. Mungo’s to work for the Order full time, and she was placed in a safe house up in Wales. Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes has been closed for weeks, and Fred and George have turned it into Potterwatch Headquarters. It’s now early November, and Y/N hasn’t seen George since the beginning of August at Bill and Fleur’s wedding.

“I wish I could come home,” she says quietly, running her fingers through George’s hair. He hasn’t been home for Molly to cut it and it’s starting to get long again. “It’s so lonely up in Wales without you. Feels like I can’t get a proper nights sleep without you in bed next to me.”

George grabs Y/N’s chin and pulls her down into a searing kiss. “Our bed is cold without you, teacup. Your pillow doesn’t even smell like you anymore.” He reaches up then and untucks her necklace from the collar of her shirt. “Still wearing this old thing?” he teases, toying with the charms. “I should get you something new, flashier. Even with Diagon Alley closed we’ve been doing some mail order business. And I’ve got all that savings. Could get you something nice.”

Y/N scoffs and slaps George on the chest playfully. “I love my necklace, Georgie. You act like you still don’t wear that stupid teapot pin every day,” she teases. “Teapots are kinda our thing and I love that. Besides you should spend your savings on something important. Like a new broom or something.”

“Or an engagement ring, or a wedding, or a house,” George muses with a grin. “I’m gonna end up spending it on you either way, Y/N. You take your pick.”

“Stop, don’t say that,” Y/N responds, her cheeks flushing pink.

George pulls Y/N onto his chest, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I promised you forever, didn’t I, Y/N? Once this war is over I’m going to put the fattest diamond money can buy on your ring finger and officially make you mine forever. Got it?”

“It doesn’t have to be the fattest diamond, just something simple and classy,” Y/N mumbles, pressing her face into George’s chest. She can feel his laughter rumble in his chest, and she smiles against his shirt. “I wish we could just lay here forever.”

“Me too,” George responds quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you. So much that it hurts sometimes. You know that, right?”

Y/N looks up at George, a look of concern on her features. “Of course, George. I love you too.”

“I just,” George pauses to clear his throat, needing to choke back the rush of emotion he’s suddenly feeling. “I need you to know, how much you mean to me. In case, in case this is the last time you ever see me. This war, everything is so uncertain. I could die, I just-,” George’s words cut off as he suddenly sobs, and hot tears start to roll down his cheeks.

“Georgie,” Y/N coos, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. She rolls off of him then onto her back, pulling George so he’s half laying on top of her with his head resting on her chest. She starts to run a hand through his hair, while the other rubs his back soothingly. “You can’t think about stuff like that, okay? I know things are scary out there but we gotta stay focused on the positive. That fat diamond and the big wedding and the house. The dog, the chickens, the babies. How am I gonna get my six little ginger babies if you die? Hm?”

“Six?” George asks with a sniffle. “I thought we agreed on four.”

“Yeah well I’ve had a lot of time to think while I’ve been on my own and I changed my mind,” Y/N chuckles. “Either way you have to stay alive in order to give me all that. So promise me George, that you’ll stay alive. That you’ll fight hard, for me. For you. For our ginger babies.”

George picks his head up and pulls Y/N’s face down to his, kissing her slowly and with so much love it makes his head dizzy. “I promise. Forever.”

That moment was already six months ago, but to Y/N it’s felt like a lifetime, so she hugs him a bit tighter, trying to convey six months’ worth of feelings and sentiments into one embrace. Time is not on their side, and while Y/N would happily stand here in George’s embrace for the next few weeks, if they both plan on staying alive they can’t linger too long.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Y/N asks, pulling away slightly so she can properly look at George. There’s dust and debris all over his face, she doesn’t see any blood, and as her hands roam around his torso and arms she can’t feel any bandages and he doesn’t wince at all.

George chuckles and cups Y/N’s face in one of his hands. “I’m absolutely fine, teacup. Not a scratch, I promise. Can’t give you those six ginger babies like I promised if I’m hurt, can I?”

“It’s seven now,” Y/N mumbles, pressing her face into his chest. “And I want a sheep too.”

“And a sheep? That’s it, that’s where I draw the line,” George teases, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “What about you? Are you okay, Y/N? I thought Adrian. I thought Adrian was gonna kill you.”

Y/N shudders at the thought of what might have happened and looks up at George. There’s so much that’s happened since they last spoke, so much she needs to tell him. But now is certainly not the time or place for it. Once they get through this night they’ll have the rest of their lives to be together, heal together. “I’m doing alright. Better now that I’ve seen you. Have you seen anyone else?”

George shakes his head. “Fred and I got separated a bit ago, I saw him with Percy not too long ago, just before I found you. Ginny was on bridge duty with Neville and Seamus so who knows where she ended up. Dad and Mum were in the Great Hall when I left them, and I haven’t seen Ron, Hermione or Harry since the preparations began. But honestly I haven’t been paying attention too much. I’ve been trying to find you, teacup. I was worried when you didn’t show up in the room of requirement.”

“I was on duty, with Tonks. By the time we got the memo and got over here stuff was already going on, people were running around and making preparations and stuff. I tried to find you, but Cho needed my help. I’ve been running around this damn castle trying to find you,” Y/N explains.

Just then a wall somewhere near them collapses, and George covers Y/N’s head with his body. George kisses Y/N again as the dust around them settles, needing to feel close to her for another moment. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” he murmurs, pressing a brief kiss to her lips between each set of words. His eye catches the shine of her necklace and George reaches up, feeling the charms between his fingertips. “Just a little bit longer until we can have our forever, yeah?”

“As long as you don’t die on me,” Y/N tries to tease, digging her fingers into George’s shoulders. The fear bubbling in her stomach creeps into her voice, and she rubs her thumb over the teapot pin stuck to the lapel of George’s jacket, needing to ground herself with something familiar. “You can’t die on me, George.” Y/N can feel tears running down her cheeks, but she doesn’t move to wipe them away, not wanting to let go of George, even for a second. “I can’t live without you.”

“You’re my everything,” George murmurs, cupping Y/N’s cheek so he can brush away some of her tears with his thumb. “And you’re never getting rid of me. Got that?”

Y/N nods and leans up on her tiptoes to press one last kiss to George’s mouth. “I’ll see you on the other side, yeah?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Y/N runs as fast as her legs will carry her back to the Great Hall. It’s been hours since she saw George and her hands haven’t stopped shaking since Voldemort started to speak to them, urging them to stop fighting and collect their dead. George could be one of those dead and even though Y/N’s eyes are blurry from the tears she’s shedding, she doesn’t stop to wipe them away. She feels like she can’t breathe, and it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s running. Y/N knows she won’t be able to properly breathe until she sees George again, so she just keeps moving.

Her legs are on fire when she reaches the Great Hall and as she pushes the heavy wooden door open her legs finally come to a screeching halt. There are makeshift gurneys all over the floor, some covered, some not. But Y/N is sure the one thing they have in common is the fact that there’s a dead body laying on top of it. She tries not to let herself linger on their faces too long, just trying to spot a shock of red hair.

That’s when she sees it. The Weasley family is at the other end of the Great Hall, standing around one of the gurneys. Y/N can see Bill and Fleur clutching each other, and everyone has tears in their eyes. She can’t see who’s laying on the ground, but as she lets her eyes pass over everyone a gut-wrenching sob leaves her throat as one thing becomes clear. It’s one of the twins. Whichever one is still alive has their back towards her with their head bowed, so she has no idea who it is.

Y/N’s knees quiver as she forces herself to walk over there, bile rising up her throat. He had promised. George had promised her forever. Had promised her that he’d stay alive. Had promised to spend the rest of his life loving her. They had planned out their entire life, and now that may be all gone.

“George. George, please,” Y/N chokes out as she approaches, her legs feeling like jelly. Whoever it is finally turns around, and Y/N takes her first full deep breath in what feels like forever.

“Teacup,” George cries as Y/N launches herself onto him, his arms wrapping around her waist to hold her close. He presses his face into her neck and just sobs, his shoulders shaking from the force of his tears.

Y/N starts to shush George and rub his back, trying desperately to soothe him. It has always been Fred and George. The only person she ever had to share George with was Fred and she never minded a bit. Fred and George were the most dynamic duo the Wizarding World has ever seen, destined to live out the rest of their days making the world laugh and causing chaos wherever they go. But now it’ll be just George, and Y/N has no idea how to make that okay.

Fred and Y/N certainly had their issues. Years of hating someone will do that to you, and when she and George started dating it became a silent agreement between them to be civil. But now, looking at Fred’s pale face over George’s shoulder, Y/N can feel her momentary relief rush out of her body, and overwhelming sadness takes its place as fresh hot tears start to roll down her cheeks.

Her and Fred had just barely started to come together when the war started, and now they’ll never have that chance again.

“He’s fine you know,” Fred comments as he comes to stand next to Y/N. “You’re looking at him as if he’s going to fall apart into a million tiny pieces with a hard gust of wind.”

Y/N chuckles, and finally looks away from George so she can look up at Fred. Bill and Fleur’s wedding is in full swing, and while Y/N knows this is supposed to be a time to celebrate, a rare moment of sunshine in the darkness of the Wizarding World, panic settled deep in her stomach the moment she stumbled into the Burrow with Ron and saw George lying on the couch, bleeding out of his head and it hasn’t left since. Had the curse been aimed half a centimeter to the left they’d be at a funeral right now, not a wedding. Molly had managed to heal George up fine, and he’s been his usual jovial self over the few days it’s been since his injury, but Y/N can’t help but still worry.

“It makes me feel better,” Y/N admits honestly, letting her eyes find George again. “I’m afraid that if I look away for too long he’ll just disappear. That all my fears will be confirmed and there will forever be a George sized hole in my heart and my life.” Y/N swallows thickly, trying to push away the tears threatening to spill over her cheeks. “He could have died, and I truly wouldn’t know what to do with myself if that happened.”

“I thought he was dead,” Fred says after a few moments of silence, surprising Y/N. “When Dad and I got back he asked where George was, and no one said anything. Remus, Harry, they all just looked at us. I figured he was dead. That’s why they wouldn’t tell us. There was so much blood when we got in there, I actually thought he was dead. And then he moved, and it felt like I could breathe again.”

Y/N worries her bottom lip between her teeth as she watches George fiddle with the gauze wrapped around his head. She wants to just go over there and slap his hands away and remind him he has to keep it clean if he wants it to heal, a conversation she already had to have with him this morning after she found him sipping coffee in the kitchen with his toothbrush sticking out of the side of his head.

“It’s my fault. I wasn’t even supposed to go. But Tonks is pregnant, and she shouldn’t be putting her life on the line like that. Not even for blimin’ Harry Potter. George tried to convince me not to go. Said he’d worry about me too much if I was out there.” Y/N shrugs, taking a long sip of champagne. “Maybe if I had stayed here like I was supposed to he would have been able to dodge the curse, or he’d have been focused enough to send Snape out of the sky before he even got a chance to hurt George.”

Fred nudges Y/N with his elbow so she’ll look up at him. “You like, really love him, don’t you?”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Really? It took George almost dying for you to realize that? Figured your first clue would have been all the times you heard us having sex. Or maybe the fact that I’ve been living with you guys for over a year now.”

“Okay, no need to be nasty,” Fred huffs. “Obviously I know you guys are in love with each other or whatever. But you’re like really in it, yeah? For the long haul. Thought maybe you guys shouting about how you’re going to be together forever was just some weird sex thing.”

“I mean it is a weird sex thing,” Y/N tells him, laughing as he grimaces. “But it’s more than that too obviously. There’s no person on this planet I’d rather be with than George. Or who I love more than George. He’s my everything, Fred. I’m not going to hurt him, I promise.”

“Better not,” Fred mumbles with a scoff. “I’ll curse you into next week if you do, bloody girl or not.”

Y/N can hear the smile in Fred’s voice, but before she gets a chance to respond George is heading over towards them, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Look at this, my brother and my girlfriend getting along, how cute,” he teases, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist. She reaches up to fix his bandage where it slipped, and her gentle touch makes his knees feel weak. “Just in time too. Be a bit awkward for Fred to be my best man if you two hate each other still.”

“Who said I’d want to be your best man anyway, git?” Fred jokes. “All this wedding crap is for the birds.”

George rolls his eyes fondly, pressing a kiss to the top of Y/N’s head. “Fine, I’ll just ask Ron or Harry or Lee. Maybe even Charlie. You’re not the only man for the job, Freddie.”

“But I’m the best man for it,” Fred responds, causing both Y/N and George to groan at his lame joke. “Try and replace me as your best man again and you’ll never hear the end of my cheesy jokes, moron.”

“No need to be feisty, I was just playing. Of course, you’re the only man for the job.”

Now Fred will never get to be the best man at their wedding. Or be there when their children are born. Or have children of his own. Just like how Y/N and George planned out their lives, he and Fred had done the same. Buying houses next to each other so they never had to travel far to see the other. They both wanted to have a boy first, close in age, so they each had someone to hand the joke shop down to. But in the blink of an eye all of that has changed, and Y/N doesn’t know if George will ever be the same again.

“You’re okay, George. It’s all gonna be okay,” Y/N coos, just wanting to calm him down. She presses a few kisses to the side of his face slowly, just letting him know that she’s there. Her arms wind around his neck as George’s grip tightens on her waist and she just hugs him tightly.

Y/N hears someone sob behind her, and she releases George so he can pull Ron into a bone crushing hug. She pulls Ginny into a hug next, letting the younger girl rest her head on her shoulder. Y/N isn’t officially a Weasley, not by any means, but this family has shown her nothing but love and welcomed her with open arms and she wants to do everything she can to help them through this. She and Hermione lock eyes, and Y/N can tell by the way the other girl is hovering on the edge of the circle with her hand on Ron’s shoulder she feels the same way.

Harry is hovering just behind Hermione, but instead of coming closer like Y/N expects he turns on his heel and heads out of the Great Hall. Y/N knows that can only mean one thing. This battle is far from over, and she hugs Ginny just a little tighter, hoping it gives them both the strength to keep fighting.

The sun is already high in the sky when everyone makes it back to The Burrow. They’re living in a new world, a world that will never be plagued by Voldemort’s darkness, but it seems darkness of other kinds has already started to take its place. 50 people lost their lives that night alone, not to mention the countless others who’ve been lost along the way. Death has touched many families in the Wizarding World, and everyone can feel its burden as they collapse into chairs at the kitchen table.

Molly starts worrying about food and making everyone tea, while George shuffles up the stairs without bothering to say anything. They all had lingered in the Great Hall for as long as they could, not wanting to leave Fred’s body there alone. It wasn’t until people from St. Mungo’s showed up to take away the dead that Molly and Arthur suggested they all head home, and Bill and Charlie had to practically drag George away from Fred. He barely even looked at anyone as they started to apperate home, and when Y/N tried to grab his hand he shoved her off.

Y/N tried not to take it personally, obviously George is going through the hardest moment of his life, but she couldn’t help but feel a little hurt. Her and George are supposed to be there for each other through everything, and it makes her chest ache that in the time where he needs people the most he’s pushing her away.

“He’ll come around,” Charlie whispers, nudging Y/N’s knee with his. She finally looks away from the staircase, trying to return his warm smile. “Fred and,” he starts, pausing to clear his throat. “George is tough, probably the toughest guy I know, and I’ve seen some things in Romania. He just needs a bit of time.”

“Thanks, Charlie.” Y/N takes a sip of her tea, just needing something to distract herself. It’s still fairly hot and the liquid burns the roof of her mouth, but the uncomfortable feeling of her singed tongue is a welcome distraction from the pain in her chest, and Y/N takes another sip.

“Y/N dear, why don’t you go ahead and owl your parents? I’m sure they’re waiting to hear from you,” Molly suggests, before turning back to whatever she has cooking on the stove.

Y/N rests her mug back on the table and plays with the sleeves of her jumper, trying to fight the tears that threaten to spill over her cheeks. “They’re um. They died actually. About three months ago now I think.” The kitchen goes still, and Y/N drops her gaze to the table as everyone turns to look at her. “They wouldn’t let me move them to a safe house, they kept going on about how they weren’t afraid of Voldemort, that they weren’t going to let him force them out of their house. But when death eaters come knocking you either join or die, so.”

Her parents may have refused to be moved to a safe house, but they allowed Y/N to set up an undetectable communication system, so they could at least keep in touch. When her parents went more than eight hours without responding to her last message Y/N started to freak out, and she convinced Remus to go with her to check on them. They were sitting on the couch as if they had simply fallen asleep together, but Y/N could tell something much sinister had happened. She managed to find their house elf Marjorie hiding in the garden shed, and she told Y/N everything that had happened. How people in masks had shown up and when her parents refused to leave with them jets of green light came from their wands. Y/N ended up being called away on a mission, and her parents were buried in the small cemetery at the end of their road, with no one in attendance but the grave digger.

Y/N can feel arms wrap around her, and she presses her face into Ginny’s neck finally letting herself cry. There wasn’t proper time for her to mourn her parents, not in the middle of the war, and as Ginny squeezes her tight Y/N finally lets the emotions that have been building inside of her for the past three months spill out. “They were my only family. And now they’re just gone and I’m all alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Ginny coos quietly, rubbing her back. “We’re your family too.”

George barely gets out of bed for days. The only times he moves are to shuffle to the loo or when Y/N or Molly is forcing him to drink water or eat something. His eyes are blank, lifeless and Y/N hasn’t heard him speak since the battle. He doesn’t even make sounds when he cries anymore, the tears just run down his face as he takes shaky breaths.

And as much as it pains Y/N to see George like this, pains them all to see him like this they just let him be. Of course, they all feel Fred’s death. But no one, not even Y/N can fathom what Fred’s death feels like to George. So they let him lay in Fred’s old bed, stopping in to check on him periodically throughout the day and talk to him even though he never talks back. And every night before she crawls into George’s old bed Y/N is sure to kiss George on the top of his head and whisper how much she loves him before going to sleep alone.

The first day they actually force him out of bed is the day of Fred’s funeral. Bill and Charlie pick him up under the armpits and deposit him in the bathroom where Y/N is waiting, situating him in the empty tub. Y/N gives them both an appreciative smile before they leave, and as soon as the door is shut tight behind them she turns to George.

“Gotta get you undressed, okay bub?” she asks softly, kneeling down next to the tub. George keeps his eyes facing forward but gives a little nod, and Y/N takes it as her cue to get him undressed. Once she’s gotten rid of his clothes Y/N lets the tub start to fill up with water, and she runs her hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp as they wait for it to finish.

Y/N washes George quickly, just talking to him about whatever things come to mind. At one-point George reaches up and cups her cheek and Y/N can’t help but lean into his touch. It’s the first contact he’s initiated since they left Hogwarts, and it makes butterflies erupt in her stomach.

Once George is clean Y/N drains the tub and uses a spell to dry George off before pulling a fresh pair of boxers up his legs. “Your suits in your room. Do you want me to get Bill and Charlie or will you be okay going on your own with me?”

All George does is make a noise in the back of his throat, but he starts to stand up then, so Y/N lets him move, following behind him back into his and Fred’s old room. Molly is standing in the hallway, and she and Y/N share a hopeful look before they disappear into the room. This is the most life George has had in him since Fred’s death, and Y/N hopes this means they’re on the road to recovery.

“I got you a new suit,” Y/N tells him as he takes a seat on his bed and she heads over to the wardrobe to grab it from where it’s hanging. Her and Molly had gone to the flat above Wheezes the day before to grab some things for the both of them, but the main thing they needed was something for George to wear. The only formal clothes he has at the Burrow are the dress robes he wore to the Yule Ball, so they needed to get him something.

But as they examined George’s closet they mostly found t-shirts and sweaters, nothing proper for him to wear at a funeral. Turns out the only suits George owns are the few he rotates between for work, and when Molly had reached in to grab one Y/N put her hand out to stop her. Because all of those suits have a matching one hanging in Fred’s closet across the hall. And even though George isn’t ready to jump back into work Y/N knows that he will be, someday. And she doesn’t want any one of these suits to be tainted with the memories of Fred’s funeral. Not when they already hold so many happy memories. Memories of the first day the store was open, of all their late nights brainstorming new products or dealing with paperwork. Y/N had seen George at his happiest while wearing those suits, had watched him and Fred share mischievous smiles as their dreams became a reality. Someday George will step into one of those suits again, and Y/N doesn’t want the first thing he thinks about to be Fred’s funeral.

She gets George dressed quickly, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead once it’s done. “I love you, George. And I know you love me too, even if you can’t say it right now, okay? I’m here for you always. No matter what.” Y/N goes over to the desk in the corner and grabs the teapot pin she bought for George all those years ago. It feels thin and flimsy in her hand, and she almost feels silly as she pins it to his jacket. Like she’s still that eager teenager, shopping in London with her Mum for the perfect gift to give the boy of her dreams that she loves with her whole heart. But it’s their promise of forever, and Y/N thinks George needs that now more than ever.

Fred’s funeral is packed, which is a surprise to no one. Fred was magnetic and left an impression on everyone he ever came in contact with. Y/N stays by George’s side, greeting everyone that comes to talk with them. Most of their classmates show up and Y/N even recognizes a few regulars from the joke shop. Even Professor Slughorn shows up, despite the fact that he never taught Fred, and Y/N is pretty sure she catches McGonagall wiping away a few tears out of the corner of her eye.

Andromeda comes through with baby Teddy in her arms, and even George cracks the faintest of smiles when the sparse hair on his head turns bright orange. The only time Y/N leaves George’s side is when Lee shows up and she goes to stand with Ginny and Harry who are comforting a teary-eyed Oliver Wood so that the two friends can have a moment alone. George doesn’t say anything, but when Lee goes to sit down George has tears running down his cheeks and Y/N goes back to his side so she can wipe them away.

Ginny ends up being the one to give the Eulogy. Both Bill and Charlie had tried, but every time they sat down to write something they just couldn’t get the words out. Percy had declined his dad’s offer, still too unsure of his place in the family and still too busy blaming himself to feel comfortable enough to talk about how much Fred meant to him. George had been the obvious choice, but he can’t even talk about the weather, and no one wanted to pressure him into doing something he wasn’t ready for. Ron had actually managed to write out a beautiful tribute with the help of Hermione, but two words in he got so emotional he started hyperventilating.

So, it fell onto Ginny’s shoulders to be the one to give the tribute to Fred. Y/N watches Ginny’s knees shake as she stands in front of her brother’s casket, her eyes never once straying to the cards in her hands. Her voice is clear and strong as she tells the story about the first prank she’d ever helped Fred and George pull off, but the tears streaming down her face glisten in the sunlight. Both Fred and George always held a soft spot for their younger sister, so as she stands up there and talks about how much she loved Fred it only seems right that Ginny be the one to say the final goodbye to him.

As Fred’s casket lowers into the ground everyone stands up, holding their wands high as they cast a bright white light into the sky. Y/N slips her hand into George’s, giving his fingers a tight squeeze as they give their final tribute to Fred. Ron waves his wand so a few whizbangs he and Harry had set up can go off. They had found them in Fred and George’s room so of course as they erupt into the sky the colors burst into a few different explicit words.

Everyone, even George, manages to laugh and it feels like the perfect way to send off Fred, the guy who dedicated his life to making people laugh and who died with his final smile still etched on his face.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay a bit longer?” Molly asks, placing her hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “It’s not a bother at all having you two here. It’s nice, to have the house a bit full again.”

Y/N nods, sparing a glance over her shoulder at George. He’s sitting on the arm of the sofa, listening to Ron chatter on about who knows what. It’s nearly June now, and while things with George have been progressing slowly, Y/N is optimistic that they’ll only get better as time goes on. He gets out of bed for short stretches of time now, and when you talk with him he actually seems like he’s listening. He’s said a few quiet things to both Molly and Y/N, but when the whole family is around he tends to just sit there and let everyone else do the talking for him.

Things have started to get back to somewhat normal for everyone, and Y/N decided it was time for her and George to do the same. Bill and Fleur are back at shell cottage, working hard to get Gringotts back in working order, and Charlie finally went back to Romania last week. Arthur and Percy will be back at the ministry next week, and even Harry and Ron will be joining them for their Auror training.

George isn’t ready to reopen the shop yet, but Y/N figures just being back in the flat will help him continue to heal. “I think some normalcy will help George. Get him in a routine, back to living his everyday life. We’ll be back plenty, but I think it’s time we go home.”

“My boy is in good hands with you, Y/N, that’s for sure.” Molly leans in and presses a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “And you’ll owl? If anything happens?”

“Of course, Molly.” Y/N gives Molly a final smile before turning back to look at George. “You ready to go home, love?”

George nods and doesn’t say anything, but the corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile. He takes the hand that Y/N offers him, holding it loosely in his own. He still isn’t as physically affectionate as before, but Y/N is sure that with time everything will go back to how it was before.

“Are you going to get out of bed today?” Y/N asks, unable to stop the annoyance that creeps into her tone.

It’s nearly October now, and things with George have only seemed to stay the same, if not worse. Some days he gets out of bed and hangs out on the couch, flipping through muggle tv stations for hours on end, holding small conversations with Y/N when he feels up to it. Other days he lays in bed all day, or sometimes for days, his lips shut tight and him barely eating. Firewhiskey seems to be the main component of his diet and Y/N has no idea how he keeps getting more of it after she pours it down the drain, since he never leaves the house.

Everyone has been coddling George, and while Y/N can’t even imagine the pain George has been going through, she’s nearly reached the end of her rope. She’s brought in several different Wizard therapists to try and get George to open up, but each one just ended up leaving the flat after a frustrated hour of George not saying anything. She just wants to figure out some way to help him, and he’s been completely unresponsive in the whole thing.

“Maybe,” George mumbles, rolling onto his other side.

Y/N can hear the unmistakable sound of a Firewhiskey bottle opening and she flips the light on as she enters their room, heading over to George. “Where the hell do you keep getting this crap? Give me the bottle, George.”

George makes eye contact with Y/N as he takes a swig from the bottle, draining quite a bit of the amber liquid. It’s the only thing that has managed to make him feel something in the months since Fred’s death and he doesn’t care how much it bothers Y/N. “Last I checked you weren’t the boss of me,” George responds flatly before taking another drink.

The rude attitude is something new too. Along with his lack of physical affection, some days when George finds the energy to talk his tone is always crass. He’s never said anything horribly mean, but the way he says things never fails to cut Y/N deeply.

“I’m just trying to help you, George,” Y/N reminds him, softening her tone.

George scoffs and tosses the now empty bottle onto the floor. “Well no one asked you to.”

“Because that’s what you do when you love someone, George. You’re there for them no matter what.” Y/N waits for George to say something, and when he doesn’t she lets out a soft sigh. “I’m worried about you, Georgie. You barely get out of bed anymore, you’re not eating. I can’t even imagine the pain you’ve gone through these months. But it’s been nearly six months, love. And Fred wouldn’t want-.”

“Don’t. Don’t talk about him like you knew him. You and Fred had one civil conversation over a year ago. You have no idea what Fred wanted,” George says harshly, cutting Y/N off.

Y/N can feel tears pricking the corners of her eyes and she takes a deep breath to try and calm down. She knows this isn’t George talking, it’s the alcohol and the grief, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. “I get your upset George, I lost people I cared about too. But I don’t get all this anger. Why are you so mad at me? Is it something I said? Something I did? Just talk to me George, please.”

“You want me to talk? Fine, I’ll talk.” George sits up and crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes narrow as he looks at Y/N. “It’s all your fault, he’s dead because of you. I should have been with Fred. I could have cast a protective spell or pulled him out of the way. And he’d still be here. But I wasn’t with him. You know why? I was faffing about the castle looking for you, saving you. When I should have been with Fred.”

Y/N can feel hot tears running down her cheeks, and her fingers shake as she reaches up to wipe them away. “What are you saying, George? That you regret trying to find me? That you regret saving me? That you would go back and let Adrian kill me so you could save Fred?” Y/N pauses to swallow the lump in her throat. “You wish it had been me who died, don’t you?”

George doesn’t say anything, but it’s answer enough for Y/N. “Fuck you, George. I’ve spent the past five months of my life giving you my everything. Trying to help you, trying to make you feel better. And you’ve been what? Laying there wishing it had been me instead of Fred?” Y/N can feel her heart shattering as George just continues to look at her, the same cold expression on his face as before. “Well I’m done. With helping you, with coddling you. With everything.”

She can feel the necklace George gave her pressing against her skin, and while it’s normally a comforting feeling, now it feels as if it’s burning her skin and she reaches up, tearing it from around her throat. It’s the first time she’s taken it off since George gave it to her and as she looks at it in her hand Y/N wants to put it right back on. But instead she throws it at George. It lands on his legs, and they both just stare at it for a moment.

“Take your promise of forever and shove it up your ass, George. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything, more than I’ve ever loved myself. But clearly you don’t feel the same way and I’m not going to spend the rest of my life pretending that it doesn’t kill me inside that you don’t love me the same way I love you.”

Without another word Y/N storms out of their bedroom and out of the flat, unsure of where she’s going to go next.

“You look dreadful,” Percy says honestly when George opens the door. His eyes are red with dark circles underneath, his hair is a mess and the pajamas he’s wearing are wrinkled and creased from him tossing and turning in his sleep.

Y/N had sent an owl to the Burrow after she ended things with George, and Percy had been the one to volunteer to visit George to try and talk to him. He gave him a few days to think about things before deciding to come and see him after work one day. The war took enough from George, and Percy couldn’t sit back and let George destroy one of the last good things in his life.

“What do you want?” George asks flatly, shuffling over towards the couch. He’s felt sick to his stomach since the moment Y/N walked away from him. He was angry and kind of drunk and sad when they fought, and George hadn’t meant a word of what he said to her. But he needed a way to get her to leave. Because George doesn’t know when he’ll ever feel normal again, when he’ll be able to love her properly again, and watching her throw her life away to help him fight a losing battle was getting to be too much.

It started two weeks ago, on one of his good days. He woke up in the morning feeling like himself, feeling like he did before the battle of Hogwarts. George had finally had a dream, not a nightmare or darkness in his eyelids while he slept. It was an actual dream, and when he opened his eyes in the morning the images of him running around a backyard with a redheaded toddler on his shoulders were still fresh in his mind.

And when he made it out into the kitchen where Y/N was making breakfast, she looked gorgeous and the smile on her face when George greeted her was bright enough to light up the world. He finally felt like things were going to be okay. He didn’t feel haunted by the closed bedroom door down the hall. George felt like he was ready, ready to get his shit back together and give Y/N everything he’d ever promised her.

But then he found it in the trash. A letter from the head Healer at St. Mungo’s. She was inviting Y/N to come back into the Healer program, to finish the training she started before the war. All she had to do was send a letter back confirming her reenrollment. But judging by the fact that she hadn’t mentioned anything, and the letter was in the trash, George figured Y/N wasn’t going to reenroll. It killed him that she was giving up on her dream to stay there with him--he was having a good day, but George knew that tomorrow, he could wake up and be right back to struggling to get out of bed. Y/N wanted to be a healer long before George occupied any of her thoughts, and he couldn’t let her throw that away.

So that day, he decided it was best if he let her go. Y/N had given up a lot for George already. His insecurities back at Hogwarts led her away from her best friends, his grief stopped her from dealing with the loss of people she cared about, and now, his inability to get his shit together was going to stop her from fulfilling her dream--the dream that made George start to fall in love with her in the first place. He couldn’t let her give up more of her life than she already had.

When Y/N tried to talk to him that day, he let whatever vile words he could think of spill out of his mouth. Seeing her so hurt, so broken, crushed whatever part of his soul was left, and he couldn’t let her keep living that way. But seeing her tear that necklace off broke something inside of George. He finally felt something other than numbness, and it was complete and utter pain. It felt like his heart was torn from his chest when Y/N slammed the door behind her, and even though George knew not being with him is what’s best for Y/N, his heart still beats for her and he’s sure it always will.

Percy sighs and follows George over to the couch. “What’s going on with you, George? You’re not acting like yourself.”

“I wonder why,” George responds, watching Percy sink into one of their armchairs. It’s weird, seeing him here. Percy barely wanted to enter Fred and George’s bedroom when they lived at home together, so he knows something must really be bothering him if he decided to come to the flat to see George.

“This isn’t about Fred,” Percy starts, holding up his hand to keep George from responding. “I’m not saying that you’re not still upset about him or that your grief isn’t valid. I’m talking about Y/N. She owled Mum about what you said. And while I imagine you’re still very hurt, we all are, I know you would never say anything like that to her. I’m not going to pretend that I know what your relationship with her was like, but I know you, George. And I saw the way she took care of you after what happened. So I know there’s no way you could have meant those things you said to her.”

“I’m not good enough for her anymore,” George says suddenly after a few minutes of silence. “I’m broken, damaged goods. And Y/N deserves the world. She was wasting her life sitting here and taking care of me. I couldn’t let her do that anymore.”

“George you’re not broken, or damaged. You’re healing, there’s a difference. And keeping all of this in is certainly not helping.” Percy sits back and just watches George for a moment. “We talked, down in the kitchen that first night after the battle, Y/N and I. I couldn’t sleep and she came down for some water. We were talking, and I asked her what changed, how she went from hating your guts to looking at you like you’re the only person in the world. Do you wanna know what she said to me?”

When George just shrugs Percy leans forward so he can look at George better. “She told me about the night in detention. About how you guys had an actual conversation for once. And that you made her feel like someone was actually listening to her. That you validated her dreams and made her feel like they were attainable. Y/N said that she told you stuff she never even told her closest friends, because just being around you made her feel safe, like she could be vulnerable around you.”

George thinks about that first night in detention often. After that night, he couldn’t stop thinking about Y/N. He even remembers having a dream about how nice her hair smelled, and how good it would have felt to run his fingers through it. He thinks about that night in the broom closet too, hiding from McGonagall; he’d wanted to kiss her so badly, being so close to her made his knees shaky and his chest tight. George had planned on kissing Y/N that night when he dropped her off at the Slytherin common room, until Umbridge had run into them. When they finally had their first kiss a few nights later in that secret passageway, George knew that from that moment on, he couldn’t live without Y/N.

“Why are you telling me this? It doesn’t matter now.”

Percy sighs. “I’m telling you this because you need to know that it’s okay to be vulnerable with Y/N. Keeping all of this in is only hurting the both of you, George. She very clearly loves you, and I know you must love her too if you’re willing to be miserable for the rest of your life to make her happy. But you can both be happy, George. Happy together. You just need to, and pardon my language, take your head out of your ass.”

George chuckles at that. “Wow, Perc, you must be serious, I’ve never heard you say anything so lewd.”

“Yeah well I slacked on my big brother duties for a few years, I figured it’s time to make up for it.” Percy pauses, pursing his lips. “Y/N’s staying at her parent’s house, getting it all cleaned out. Think about what you’re gonna say and then go over and apologize to her. You deserve to be happy, George. Fred would want you to be happy.”

It takes a few days and a visit from his Mum to get his haircut, but George gets his shit together so he can go and talk to Y/N. He spent quite a long time trying to figure out what to say to her, and while it’s not exactly perfect it’s what George feels and that’s what matters to him. Because there’s no doubt in his mind that Y/N is the only person he wants to be with for the rest of his life, and he shouldn’t let his inability to express his thoughts get in the way of that. They’ve already been down that road together before, and George vowed to spend forever with Y/N and he still plans on making good on those promises.

He pushes the front door right open, letting the noise of Y/N muttering to herself as she shuffles things around lead him to where she is. He finds Y/N digging through the drawers of the dresser in her childhood bedroom. She’s wearing an oversized t-shirt that George thinks used to be in his closet and her hair is tied up on her head. George can feel his legs shaking as he leans up against the doorway, and he takes a deep breath to calm himself down.

“Hey, teacup.”

Y/N jumps at the sound of George’s voice and she spins to face the door, her hand clutching her chest. “For Merlin’s sake, George. You scared the shit out of me.” She can feel her heart racing in her chest, and it’s not from the fright George just gave her. He looks good, like his normal self and it feels like she’s seeing him for the first time. Molly has definitely cut his hair recently, and even though he’s still in comfy clothes the Gryffindor t-shirt and sweatpants he’s wearing are uncreased and look like they’ve been washed recently.

“Sorry, love, thought you heard me when I came in.” George bites his lip, fiddling with his thumbs. “You doing okay?”

Y/N shrugs, looking down at the floor. George is the last person she expected to show up here, and she’s not sure how she feels about it. He’s been on her mind since the moment she walked out the door of their flat last week, and the last words he spoke to her have been running on a constant loop in the back of her mind. She’s still so angry and hurt over what he said, but Y/N would be lying if she said every cell in her body isn’t screaming at her to just go up and hug him.

“I’ve been doing better, than before,” George continues when she doesn’t say anything. “Percy came to talk to me a few days ago, made me realize what an ass I was. Though I must say he was much nicer than Ginny was when she did the same thing a few years ago.” He lets out a breathy chuckle, and his stomach flips when Y/N looks back up at him with a small smile. “I owe you probably the biggest apology I’ll ever give in my entire life and I’d love to give it to you if you’d let me.”

It reminds Y/N of that day on the train when their only problems were jealousy and what house table they should eat dinner at. Y/N instinctively reaches up to grab the charms of her necklace, her hand faltering when all she meets is the cloth of her shirt. It’s something she’s done several times in the days it’s been since she ripped the piece of jewelry off, usually when she was missing George and wanted to feel like a piece of him was still nearby.

“I guess that’s something I could do,” she says quietly, going to take a seat on the edge of her bed. She pats the spot next to her, encouraging George to come sit. His hands are shaking as he comes and sits down, and it takes all of Y/N’s restraint to not reach out and grab one of them.

“I lied to you. I don’t blame you, for what happened to Fred. And I don’t regret anything I did that night. If it had been you who died instead of Fred I don’t think I would have been able to carry on with my life. Because Y/N you are quite literally the only reason why I wake up every morning, you’re the reason why I have the energy to get out of bed somedays, and the reason why I feel okay when I don’t. Falling in love with you, being with you has been the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

George reaches up to wipe away a few of the tears Y/N has started to shed, his fingers trembling as they softly press against her cheek. “And even though I haven’t been the best person to be around lately, you’ve been by my side through everything. You’ve been so patient and understanding, way more than I deserve. You put your life on hold to help me, and I’ve been rejecting all of your efforts. I don’t know how to do all of this. How to grieve and handle my emotions. Talk about my emotions. And instead of just trying I’ve been keeping them all in, letting them settle in me and get worse. I haven’t felt like myself in months, haven’t allowed myself to. And yet every day you were there, with a smile and a reassuring touch, telling me how much you love me. I started to feel guilty, so overwhelmingly so it felt like my chest was going to cave in. Because there you were, putting your life on hold, giving up your dream to try and help me and I couldn’t even manage to tell you how much I love and appreciate you.”

Y/N reaches up and wipes away a few of George’s tears this time, letting her fingers gently caress his cheek. “George I didn’t mind, doing all of that for you. That’s what you do when you love someone. You make sacrifices, change your plans. I would give up everything to be there for you.”

“That’s why I said all of those things to you, Y/N. Pushed you away, forced you to leave. Because I don’t want you to give up everything to be with me.” George cups Y/N’s cheek gently so he can look her in the eyes. “You deserve to have everything you’ve ever wanted in life, and you deserve to have a partner that can be there for you. That can support you fully in everything you do. And I didn’t think I could be that person for you.”

“Didn’t think you could be? Or don’t think you could be?” Y/N asks through her sniffles.

“Didn’t,” George confirms, his voice serious. “Because living without you, even for a few moments was the most intense pain I have ever felt. And even though I don’t know when I’ll feel completely back to normal there are a few things I do know. I know that I love you. And I know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know I want to support you and be there for you in everything you do. And I know that I want to try and be better for you. And for me. Most importantly I know that I want you, forever. I want all those things I promised you, the stupid diamond and the wedding and the seven ginger babies. I know that I actually want to live my life, not just watch it pass me by. And the only person I want to do that with is you.”

George pauses to dig around in the pocket of his sweatpants, and a moment later he pulls out Y/N’s necklace. Except this time along with the teapot and G charm, there’s a simple diamond ring hanging from the chain. “So I am so, so sorry for treating you the way I have, the way I did. And teacup, if you’ll let me, I promise to cherish you and support you and love you forever.”

It’s not the way Y/N ever imagined this moment would take place, but as she surges forward to kiss George properly for the first time in months, it feels absolutely perfect. She knows that they have a long road of healing and mending ahead and that their lives will probably never be the way they imagined them. But none of that matters. All Y/N needs and has ever needed is George. “Of course, George. There is no one else I want to spend forever with.”

George lets Y/N pull him into another kiss as he fumbles with the necklace, trying to get the ring off so he can slip it onto her finger. She starts to kiss down his neck, and George lets out a soft moan as he finally gets the ring in his hand. “Hang on teacup, wait a minute.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Y/N mumbles as she pulls away, her cheeks flushed pink. “It’s fine if you’re not ready to we can wait for as long as you want I just figured that-.”

George cuts her off with a laugh. “Oh no that’s not what I meant, Y/N. I am more than ready to be with you like that again. I just wanna put your ring and your necklace on first.”

“Oh right I kinda forgot about that,” Y/N says with a giggle, holding her left hand out for George. Between the war and George’s grief they haven’t been intimate in well over a year now, and Y/N’s fingers stopped being sufficient long ago so in her haste to get George into bed she completely forgot about the ring.

“You can’t not have your ring on the first time we do it as an engaged couple,” George teases as he slides the ring down her finger. The diamond glistens in the sunlight streaming in through the window and to George it looks as if the ring was made to be on Y/N’s finger.

Y/N examines the ring up close for the first time as she turns around so George can clasp her necklace back around her neck. It’s simple, but gorgeous and everything she’s ever wanted in an engagement ring. George finally gets the clasp of the necklace closed and Y/N shivers as the cool metal settles against her skin. A moment later George’s warm mouth is pressing kisses into her skin and she lets out a quiet noise.

“I missed you so much,” George murmurs as he turns Y/N back around, kissing her softly. He starts to slowly lay her back against the pillows as their mouths move together, crawling on top of her. “You did such a good job taking care of me, teacup. Now it’s my turn to take care of you.”

George helps Y/N out of her top before he starts to slowly kiss down her neck, his hands slowly rubbing up and down her sides. It’s been far too long since he showed Y/N just how much he loves and appreciates her, and he plans on making up for it now. He moves his lips down her chest, taking one of her nipples between his lips. The tip of his tongue flicks at the sensitive bud for a moment before he sucks on it gently.

“Oh, George,” Y/N moans, tangling one of her hands in his hair. She tugs on it lightly as her hips move off of the bed to grind up against George’s. She can already feel her arousal pooling in her panties and she’s ready for more.

“God you are gorgeous,” George murmurs before capturing Y/N’s other nipple in his mouth and giving it the same treatment as the other. “I don’t deserve you,” he mumbles into her skin as he starts to kiss down her stomach. “You are perfect in every way, Y/N.”

“I love you,” Y/N tells George quietly as he gets rid of her bottoms, lifting her hips up to help him. She shivers as she rests back against the bed, completely bare for him. His gentle touch on her knees makes goosebumps rise on her skin, and she lets out a whine as he spreads her legs open.

“I love you too, teacup. So much. More than anything in the world.” George starts to kiss Y/N’s inner thigh, leading a trail up to her dripping cunt. He pauses to suck a mark onto the inner most part of her thigh, just a few centimeters away from where she needs him most. George brings two fingers to her cunt, spreading her wetness around as he rubs through her folds.

Y/N’s hips grind down against George’s gentle touch, and she tugs on George’s hair when he chuckles. “Please, George. I need you.”

George slips two fingers into Y/N’s cunt as his lips attach to her clit, moaning against her when walls clench around his digits. He sucks on her clit gently, slowly moving his fingers in her, curling them with every push back into her entrance.

“Oh yes, Georgie, fuck. Feels so good,” Y/N groans, her hips starting to grind down against George’s face and hands. She spreads her legs even wider, whining when the fingers of George’s free hand dig into her thigh.

“Such a good girl for me, teacup,” he praises, pressing a wet kiss to her clit. He starts to move his fingers faster, scissoring his fingers to help stretch her and get her ready for his cock. “Making such pretty noises for me, just like you always do.”

Y/N lets out a low moan as George reattaches his mouth to her clit, bringing her free hand up to pinch at her nipples. She can already feel the familiar heat of an orgasm building in her stomach, and her toes curl as George’s tongue starts to trace patterns over her clit. “Love being your good girl, George. Always wanna be your good girl.”

George hums as he sucks Y/N’s clit harder, fucking his fingers back into her cunt harder. Her walls are clenching and twitching around him, and George has to grind his hips against the bed to get some relief on his aching cock.

“So close George, fuck,” Y/N moans, her toes curling as George’s fingers brush her g-spot once again. She can feel shocks of pleasure radiating through her cunt as her orgasm approaches, and she starts to move her hips sloppily, chasing her climax. “Can I cum? Please Georgie, wanna cum. Wanna be a good girl,” she babbles, tugging on George’s hair.

George takes his mouth away from her cunt and starts to rub harsh circles on Y/N’s clit. “Go on, darling. Want you to be a good girl and cum for me.”

With a few more pumps of George’s fingers Y/N is cumming, her thighs trembling as pleasure washes over her in waves. She can see stars behind her eyes, and she doesn’t even realize that she’s moaning loudly until George is kissing her and the room gets infinitely quieter.

George rubs Y/N’s hips soothingly as she comes down from her high, his lips gently pressing to her neck in a series of slow kisses. “Do you have any idea how fucking hot you sound when you’re moaning like that for me?” he asks, pulling away so he can look into Y/N’s eyes.

“I could wager a guess,” Y/N responds playfully, pulling George down into a kiss. She slowly starts to sit up as George deepens their kiss, letting out a moan against his mouth. Y/N trails one of her hands down George’s chest to his crotch, palming his erection through the fabric of his sweatpants. “Is this another present in your pants for me?” she teases, nipping at George’s lips.

“Why am I marrying you again?” George teases as he pulls away so he can take his t-shirt off. He gets off the bed then and starts to get rid of his bottoms, pulling them down slowly to tease Y/N.

“Georgie,” Y/N whines at his teasing, jutting her lower lip out into a pout. She gets up onto her knees and wraps one of her hands around the back of George’s neck as the other reaches down to wrap around his cock. Y/N pulls George down into a hot kiss as she starts to stroke him, her thumb swirling around the tip to collect the precum dribbling out, helping her hand to glide easier.

George kicks his bottoms off as Y/N strokes him, moaning into her mouth. “Godric I missed this. Missed you, teacup. I can’t believe I get to have you for the rest of my life.” He crawls back onto the bed as he kisses Y/N again, sitting down with his back against the headboard. His hands settle on Y/N’s hips and he pulls her so that she’s straddling his waist. “You gonna show me how much you missed me too?”

Y/N reaches behind her to grip George’s cock and she lets out a whine as she teases her slit with the tip. She lets George pull her into another kiss as she starts to slowly sink down, but it falls apart as her hips move and her mouth drops open to let out a few pants. “So fucking full,” she groans as their thighs meet, her hips rocking slightly now that George is fully inside of her.

“Fuck your cunt is tight,” George moans, digging his fingers into Y/N’s hips. Her walls are pulsating around him and he can’t help but jut his hips upwards. Being buried inside of Y/N feels like pure ecstasy to George, and it takes all of his restraint not to just flip them over so he can fuck into her hard. “How do I feel, teacup? You like the way my cock fills you up?”

“George,” Y/N moans as she starts to rock in his lap, moving her hips in tight circles as she grinds down into him. She can feel George deep inside of her, and the way his cock brushes her g-spot with every moment causes pleasure to radiate through her core. “Feels good, so good. Missed being,” Y/N pauses to moan as George starts to help guide the movements of her hips. “Missed being full.”

George presses his face into the crook of Y/N’s neck, letting out grunts against her skin as she starts to rock against him quicker. He starts to move his own hips up into her and her walls clamp around him even tighter. “You’re incredible,” he pants, pressing a kiss to her neck. George pulls away so he can look at Y/N leaning in to kiss her briefly. “Feel so fucking good, teacup. Riding me so well, Y/N. Being such a good girl for me.”

Y/N tips her head back and moans as she starts to move faster, desperately trying to cum again. Her clit is grinding against George with every movement and the way he’s stretching her out has gone straight to her head, and Y/N’s mind is clouded with pleasure. Maybe it’s because they haven’t been intimate like this in so long or because they’re engaged now but Y/N feels complete with George inside of her and she never wants it to end as she grinds down against him harder.

“Please George, please,” she begs breathily, digging her fingers into his shoulders.

“What do you want teacup?” George asks as he stats to thrust his hips up harder. Her walls twitch with every movement and he can already feel himself getting close to his release. “Whatever you want it’s yours.”

Y/N tilts her head forward so she can rest their foreheads together. She looks into George’s eyes and a shiver runs down her spine at how dark they are. “Just want you, Georgie. Please.”

George kisses Y/N desperately as he flips them over, pressing Y/N down into the mattress as he starts to slam his hips into her hard. “You’ve got me,” George promises as he brings one of his hands down to her core, starting to rub harsh circles on her clit. He braces himself on a hand above her shoulder and presses their foreheads together again so he can look into her eyes. “Forever, Y/N. I mean it this time. Forever.”

“Oh fuck, George,” Y/N moans as she cums, her legs winding around George’s hips to keep him in place, fucking her deep. Electric shocks of pleasure radiate through her body and her chest starts to heave with deep breaths as the pleasure washes over her.

Y/N’s walls tightening and pulsating around him pushes George over the edge, and he cums too, a cry of her name leaving his lips. He kisses her messily as his cock twitches inside of her, his hips slowly rolling to help them both of them through the tail ends of their orgasms.

“No,” Y/N whines when George moves to pull out, her legs tightening around his waist. “Not yet, George. Wanna be full with you for a bit longer.”

George chuckles and presses a kiss to Y/N’s sweaty forehead, carefully turning them on their sides so they can lay somewhat comfortably, his cock still buried deep inside of her. “Of course, teacup. Anything for you.”

“Forever, yeah?” she murmurs, clenching her walls around George.

He reaches a hand between them and presses the charms of Y/N’s necklace into her skin. “Forever.”

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, did you know that Mrs. Weasley?” George asks with a dopey grin as he twirls Y/N around in a circle.

They decided to keep their wedding small. Partially to distract from the fact that Y/N really has no friends or family to invite. But mostly because they don’t need all the theatrics. It’s the middle of June, and the backyard of the Burrow is draped in twinkling lights, making the warm air seem as if it’s glowing as everyone talks or eats or dances. George had suggested they get married as quick as humanly possible. He even tried to convince Y/N that they should just get a marriage license from the ministry and get married right in Shacklebolt’s office before they even had the chance to tell anyone they were engaged.

But Y/N insisted that they have some sort of ceremony with their family. June seemed like the perfect opportunity, since both Ginny and Hermione would be done with school and Fleur would have already given birth to the first Weasley grandchild. Y/N also thought it would give George some more time to deal with his grief.

After he proposed George really did start doing better. He started getting out of bed every day and taking proper care of himself. Y/N encouraged him to reconnect with his family and friends, and they even started leaving the flat together at least once a week. George started seeing a wizard therapist, and as he learned how to identify and deal with his emotions, Y/N watched the light slowly come back to his eyes. By Christmas he was back to joking around again, and he even charmed some mistletoe so that the people who met underneath it wouldn’t be able to move unless they kissed.

In the new year Y/N reenrolled in her Healer training program, and while being by himself again gave George a bit of anxiety, he packed a lunch for her and sent her off with a kiss on the cheek and a smile. And it worked out in the end, because George found himself so stir crazy without Y/N around that he managed to go back down in the joke shop. Y/N ended up finding him sitting in the office when she got home, some of Fred’s old notes clutched in his hand while he cried. She was worried that he would start to move backwards, but when George noticed her presence he opened up to her about how he was feeling instead of pushing her away. He managed to make the trek back down into the shop every day after that and now Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes will be back open for business on July first.

“You’re only saying that because it’s our wedding day, Georgie,” Y/N teases, titling her chin up so he’ll kiss her. George presses their lips together briefly and Y/N rests her head on his shoulder, watching Arthur twirl Molly around on the other side of the dancefloor.

George presses a kiss to the top of Y/N’s forehead before resting his cheek there. “You think that’ll be us in thirty years? Dancing like fools at our kids wedding?”

“I hope so. I reckon we’ll be those proper embarrassing parents, like the kinds who’s kids hate going out with them in public,” Y/N muses with a laugh.

“You mean like your parents?” George asks softly, pulling Y/N into his chest tighter. “Your cheeks were so red the first time I met them I thought you were gonna turn into a tomato.”

Y/N turns her face into George’s chest to hide the pink flush of her cheeks as the memory of George meeting her parents for the first time comes flooding back to the forefront of her mind.

“Not another one Mum, please,” Y/N begs before picking up a pillow off of the sofa and shoving her face into it to hide her embarrassment. All her mother does is grin as she comes back into the living room with another album full of pictures from Y/N’s childhood.

It’s easter break for Y/N, and it’s only been a few weeks since George and Fred had their grand exit from Hogwarts. While George has been busy getting ready for the joke shop’s grand opening, he agreed to come to dinner at Y/N’s house so he could finally meet her parents. He was a little nervous leading up to it, unsure of how Y/N’s parents would take to the fact that their daughter is dating a poor blood traitor who’s a recent school dropout, but the second he walked through the door all his worries washed away.

Y/N’s family manor is large, but yet somehow still feels like home. It’s bright and warm and feels lived in. Y/N’s mother had hugged him tightly as soon as he stepped through the door, and her dad playfully fell to his knees to bow down to George, making a joke about how gracious he was that someone fell in love with his smart ass daughter so he wouldn’t have to deal with her for the rest of his life. Y/N was standing just behind him looking as if she wanted the world to just open up and swallow her whole, but George found it hilarious and gave her dad a curtsey in response, telling him that her smart mouth would greatly reduce the dowry he’d be willing to pay.

Even Marjorie their house elf had teased Y/N a bit as she brought them all drinks in the parlor. She said something about how the photo Y/N keeps of George under her pillow certainly did not do him justice as he’s much more handsome in person and Y/N’s cheeks went so red it was as if she had spent hours outside in the cold. They had only been sitting down for a few minutes when the first photo album came out, and now George is about to start flicking through the fifth.

George laughs as he takes the book from Y/N’s Mum, trading her for the one he just finished flipping through. “Oh, come on, love. It’s only fair. Ginny tells you embarrassing stories about me all the time.”

“Yeah, pumpkin. It could be worse, I could have Marjorie go dig the old Muggle video player out and we could pop some of the home movies into it,” her Dad teases.

Y/N groans at that and she puts the pillow down so she can glare at her father. “Fine, fine, the photos can stay.” She leans her head against George’s shoulder as he starts to flip through the book, and she just barely sees her Mum bring the camera out from behind her back before she’s taking a picture. “Mum! We talked about this, you promised no photos!”

“Oh, come on, one photo never hurt anybody. You’ll be thankful I took this photo someday when you’re old and fondly reminiscing about your youth to your grandkids,” Y/N’s mother says, putting the camera down. “And it’ll be a nice visual aid when I tell the story about how embarrassed we made you tonight at your wedding.”

“Can we not with the wedding talk? George and I are barely eighteen.” Y/N hides her face in George’s neck, her cheeks heating up even further when George chuckles and turns his head so he can kiss her on the temple. Both of her parents let out an aw, and she picks up the nearest pillow to throw at them.

George laughs as Y/N faceplants onto her bed later that night. They’ve just finished dinner with her parents, and Y/N snuck them upstairs when her Mum went to go find another old photo album. “You regretting asking me to come to dinner?” he asks, sitting down next to Y/N.

She turns her head so she can glare at George, but it quickly turns soft when he starts to rub her lower back. “They promised me they’d be on their best behavior. Clearly they lied.”

“It’s cute, that they embarrass you or whatever. Clearly they love you a lot,” George responds softly, giving her a reassuring smile. “How much of our wedding do you think your Mum has planned?” he teases with a chuckle.

“Don’t joke about that, George. Knowing her the answer is probably the whole thing,” Y/N answers with a giggle. She rolls over onto her back so she can look up at George, letting one of her hands reach up to run through his hair. “I hope they didn’t scare you away with all of their baby photos.”

“Darling if Daphne Greengrass’ iciest glare doesn’t scare me a few photos of you with some missing teeth is nothing,” George reassures her. “Your Mum even had me mark some of my favorites for her to include in the wedding slideshow when you went to the loo.”

Y/N groans and places one of her pillows over her face, before deciding to hit George with it when he laughs at her pain.

“They were quite embarrassing. Though I wish we could have seen the slide show my Mum was gonna make. Bet your Mum would have added a fair few photos of you to the mix,” Y/N points out, grinning up at George.

George leans down and presses a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “And half of them would have been of Fred I reckon, we were even harder to tell apart when we were babies.” He lets out a quiet sigh and kisses Y/N’s forehead again. “I wish he was here.”

“I know, Georgie.” Y/N squeezes George tighter for a moment, letting her eyes wander around the backyard. Ginny has a very excited Teddy Lupin on her shoulders, with both Harry and Andromeda laughing as the toddler’s face and hair changes into something new every few seconds. Bill and Fleur are in the corner trying to coax a restless Victorie to sleep and Charlie and Lee are taking shots together at one end of the bar. Percy is standing at the other end of it with Ron and Hermione, telling them a story about his new girlfriend, Audrey. “Percy did a pretty good job though, as best man. Don’t you think?”

Turns out the hardest decision in wedding planning was figuring out who the best man would be. Ginny was the natural choice for maid of honor, but it took George weeks to pick out his best man. Both Ron and Harry volunteered themselves for the role, and spent more time arguing with each other over why George should pick them rather than trying to convince George why they were the best choice. Charlie actually took himself out of the running, since he’d been Bill’s best man and didn’t want to take the opportunity away from another brother. And Lee was pretty chill about the whole thing, he was perfectly happy just to be the one in charge of the DJing.

Percy had been shocked when George asked him. Despite the fact that Percy had really tried to step back into the family after the war everyone could tell he still felt awkward. He was always the first to head home after family dinners, and the one who opted to sit on the single armchair rather than pile up with the others on one of the couches. At Christmas after he opened his Weasley sweater he excused himself to the bathroom, and they all pretended not to notice the red rims of his eyes when he came back. He always waited for someone to address him before he spoke, as if he thought no one cared about what he had to say. Most notably he always braced himself when someone brought up Fred, as if he was waiting for someone to shout at him for failing to save his brother.

But George had reassured him endlessly that he was the only person he wanted to stand up there with him while he promised Y/N forever. For one because Percy had been there for George during a time when he needed him most, and he gave George the push he needed to make things right with Y/N. George also ended up admitting later that him choosing Percy to be his best man would have annoyed Fred endlessly, and it made him feel like he was pulling one final prank on his brother.

George hums as he nods, letting go of Y/N briefly so he can twirl her around, before bringing her back against his chest. “Who knew he could be so funny? I’m pretty sure Ron nearly threw up from how hard he was laughing. It’s nice to see him be comfortable around everyone again. Feels like it did before, you know. That’s what I wanted, when I chose him. For him to feel like family again.”

“That’s actually really sweet of you, George. I’m sure Percy appreciates it,” Y/N murmurs, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Well it was either let him be the best man or name one of our kids after him, and I’m not sure I like the ring of Percy ll,” George says with a laugh.

Y/N rolls her eyes at that. “I’m revoking your naming privileges, George. You’re not allowed to name any of our eight ginger babies.”

“Eight? I thought we agreed on seven?” George asks with a soft chuckle.

“Well I decided I want eight. And a few hours ago, you stood up in front of our friends and family and promised to spend the rest of forever making me happy so it’s too late to take it all back,” Y/N states matter of factly, sticking her tongue out at George.

George shakes his head fondly and leans down to kiss Y/N slowly. “Fine, fine. Eight it is. Though we better start thinking about moving out of the flat then. Because if my height is anything to go by we’re gonna have some big babies, and I reckon we can only fit two or three of ‘em above Wheezes. And with the way you look tonight there’s no way there won’t be at least one more Weasley grandchild on the way when I’m done ravishing you.”

“How long do we have to wait?” George asks with a groan, flopping down onto the mattress.

“Three minutes. Same as when I told you before,” Y/N responds with an eye roll, throwing the empty pregnancy test box at George.

Despite George’s comments on their wedding night, it took them several months to even talk about getting pregnant. Once the joke shop reopened business was as good as ever. Even now eight months after reopening the store is still so busy that George has to sometimes eat his lunch while working the till or filling out paperwork. And once Y/N completed her Healer training she got stuck working the graveyard shift, so often the only time she and George saw each other was when one of them was coming home from work as the other was on their way to work.

Thankfully after a few months of hazing Y/N was switched to a much more reasonable shift, and she was back to spending most of her nights at home with George. It was then that they started discussing the next steps of their future, and both of them were set in the fact that they wanted to have a baby sooner rather than later. But they both decided to wait just a bit longer, until they had bought a house. Because even though they both love the flat above the joke shop, it’s just not big enough for a growing family.

Fred’s room hasn’t been touched since the Battle of Hogwarts. Y/N knows George has gone in there a few times, on the days when he misses his brother the most. But nothing has been moved or tidied up. There’re still shoes, and clothes and random papers all strewn about that George just hasn’t had the heart to get rid of. Y/N figures it helps George feel like Fred is still close by, so she doesn’t push him to clear it out. Except their bedroom in the flat was too small to have all the stuff needed for a baby, so they decided that a house would come before their family.

But as it turns out, there’s a possibility they’re happening at the same time. It took them a few months to find the right house, and with Y/N’s inheritance from her parents they were able to buy a nice piece of land out in the country with a beautiful house with enough room for the large family they both want. There’s a great little pond and a tire swing, and enough room for a Quidditch pitch too.

And Y/N had figured her missed period was due to the stress of the move. But a few days ago, she woke up from a dream covered in a cold sweat that made her start to think otherwise. Fred was there. He was in the field behind her and George’s new house running around in the warm summer sunshine, chasing after a little boy. And when the little boy finally turned to look at her, Y/N felt like she couldn’t breathe. His hair was the same color as her own, but his face was all George. The same deep brown eyes, the same light freckles dotted on the same pale skin. It was uncanny really, and when the boy finally noticed her he called her Mum and started running towards her. Just before Y/N could wrap her arms around him she woke up, her heart pounding and the image of the little boy still fresh in her mind. She decided then it was time to take a test.

“What a great way to spend the first night in our new house eh?” George asks with a nervous laugh, patting the spot on the mattress next to him.

“Certainly not the way I imagined us breaking in the new house,” Y/N responds with a laugh as she settles down on the mattress with him, the pregnancy test clutched in her hand. They barely have any furniture set up and their mattress is laying on the ground and yet they may need to start planning for a nursery.

George takes the pregnancy test from Y/N’s hand and puts it face down on the bed before he takes her face in his hands and kisses her softly. “I love you, teacup. And whether this test is positive or not I can’t wait to start our family.”

“I love you too, Georgie.” Y/N lets her eyes flutter shut as George presses a lingering kiss to her forehead, unable to stop herself from thinking about the time she and George first talked about having children.

“You still awake down there, teacup?” George whispers into the still air. He didn’t want to say anything and after falling asleep next to Y/N for the past year he’s gotten pretty good at telling if she’s asleep by the pace of her breathing. But the bandage wrapped around his right ear is making it hard to hear, and he needs to know if Y/N is still awake or not.

Y/N’s head pops up immediately and she looks over at George. “What’s wrong? Does your head hurt? It is bleeding?”

George chuckles and shakes his head, shutting his eyes when the room starts to spin. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just an idiot, give me a minute.” Once George can no longer feel his heartbeat in his temples he opens his eyes and gives Y/N a reassuring smile. “Will you stop fussing? Mum’s done enough of that for you tonight.”

“I can’t help it, George. I thought you were gonna die.” Y/N’s voice cracks as the final word of her sentence falls from her lips, and she can feel the tears welling in her eyes.

The Battle of the seven Harrys had been a shitshow from the moment they left the ground. Y/N was riding a Thestral with Ron, and from the second they took off Death Eaters were everywhere. Luckily Ron is pretty talented with his defensive spell casting, and all Y/N really had to focus on was flying them back to the Burrow safely. Which was good, because the fight she’d gotten into with George earlier in the evening was still weighing heavily on her mind.

She wasn’t even supposed to be there. The original plan had been that Y/N would stay behind at The Burrow with Ginny and Molly, that way if anyone came back injured she’d be there to help assist Molly with any healing. But then Tonks announced that she’s pregnant and Y/N made Mad Eye Moody change the plan so Y/N could take her place during the actual mission. Which George was not happy about and they left the Burrow for Privet Drive still fuming from their fight.

“Teacup,” George coos, reaching out to stroke Y/N’s cheek. “You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?” he teases, trying to get her to crack a smile. “Snivellous has wanted to take me out for years I reckon, it was only a matter of time before he tried.”

Y/N turns her head so she can kiss George’s palm lightly. “That’s not funny, George. You really could have died.”

“And you could have as well, Y/N,” George reminds her.

“Better me than Tonks,” Y/N mumbles, looking down at the floor.

“Don’t say that,” George responds firmly, gripping Y/N’s chin so he can make her look at him. There are tears spilling down her cheek, and George lets go of her chin so he can wipe them away with his thumb. Even in the dim light of the living room Y/N looks breathtakingly beautiful, and just the thought of living without her makes his stomach lurch. “Tonks is a big girl and would have been just fine going on the mission.”

“What if it was me? Hm?” Y/N asks, looking at George expectantly. “What if I was the pregnant one about to go on a mission that could kill me? Kill our unborn child? Wouldn’t you want someone to take my place?”

“Of course, I would, Y/N,” George chokes out around the few tears streaming down his cheeks. He’s not really sure when they started pouring out, but he imagines it was when Y/N mentioned their unborn child and death in the same breath. “But this is different.”

Y/N shakes her head. “How? How is Tonks being pregnant any different?”

“Because Tonks isn’t the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, Y/N. She’s not the person who I want to carry my children or raise my children with. It’s you.” George reaches down and grabs the charms of the necklace he gave Y/N, rubbing them between his thumb and his pointer finger. “When I gave you this necklace and promised you forever I meant it, teacup. I wanna marry you and have babies with you. And I can’t do that with you if you’re dead, can I?”

“You really think about all that stuff?” Y/N asks through her sniffles, her tone full of a mixture of surprise and disbelief. While she knows that her and George were both on the same page about starting a life together someday, she had no idea he was thinking that seriously about it. They’re just barely nineteen, and Y/N figured marriage and babies were far away in their future, so far away that they would never even cross George’s mind.

George motions for Y/N to come up and lay on the couch with him. “I’m not going to break. Get up here. I wanna hold you, teacup.” Once Y/N is settled on his chest, her head on his shoulder and their legs intertwined he continues. “Sometimes I can’t stop thinking about all that stuff. Like how we’re gonna get married someday. And live on a load of land somewhere. With some chickens and a dog. And a few ginger babies of course, can’t forget about them.”

Just George talking about them having children spikes Y/N’s heart rate, and she has to take a few deep breaths to try and calm herself down. “How many ginger babies are we gonna have?”

“Hm, I reckon maybe two or three? A boy first, and then a girl. And then I think another girl would be nice,” George explains, starting to slowly rub Y/N’s back. “Why, teacup? How many do you want?”

“At least four,” Y/N says seriously, tilting her head so she can look at George. “Two of each. Maybe even a set of twins. A mini Fred and George perhaps.”

George chuckles and leans down to kiss Y/N softly. “Really? You sure you could handle another set of me and Fred? We gave you quite a bit of hell back in our school days if you remember correctly.”

“Yeah and look at where we are now. Laying on a couch together talking about all the babies we’re gonna have,” Y/N points out with a chuckle. “Besides can you imagine McGonagall’s face when two mini versions of you show up at Hogwarts one day? Bet she’d quit on the spot.”

“Oh come on, good old Minnie loved us. And let’s not forget you caused a bit of trouble as well, Y/N. Just the thought of planting a garden still gives me nightmares after you dropped that load of Dragon Dung fertilizer on Fred and I,” George reminds her with a laugh.

“And you made my hair turn yellow for weeks! And made my tongue nearly explode,” Y/N counters. “You want me to list more? Because I can list more.”

“No it’s okay, I get the point.” George just sits there quietly for a moment, enjoying the feeling of Y/N’s weight on top of him. “Just promise me you’ll be careful out there, yeah? Can’t have our four ginger babies without you, Y/N.”

Y/N pulls George’s mouth down to hers again for a few moments. “You too, George. You’re kind of the whole ginger in the situation, so you’re pretty essential in the mix.”

“I promise,” George mumbles, pressing one more kiss to Y/N’s mouth.

“You think it’s been three minutes yet?” George whispers, bringing Y/N’s mind back to the present.

“Probably,” she responds, looking up at George. Y/N reaches up and touches his cheek softly. “You wanna do the honors?”

George reaches his hand out and grabs the pregnancy test, keeping it flipped upside down. “How about we look together?” When Y/N nods George brings the test in between them and he uses his free hand to grab one of hers. “On the count of three, yeah? One, two three.”

As soon as the last number leaves George’s mouth he flips the test over to look at the results. There’s two dark pink lines staring back at them, and her and George look back up at each other.

“What did the two lines mean again?” Y/N asks.

George frowns. “I was gonna ask you the same thing.”

They both start to throw their blankets and pillows away, trying to find where the box landed after Y/N threw it at George a few minutes ago. “Why didn’t you just buy the one with the words? You had to get the one you need a diagram to figure out.”

“I was overwhelmed, okay? I’ve never been in a muggle pharmacy before and there was like 25 different tests and I couldn’t tell the difference between them all and I just grabbed one at random,” George huffs. He feels his fingers skim over the cardboard box and his eyes light up as he grabs it. “Aha! Here it is!” George skims his eyes over the directions on the back a few times to make sure he fully understands them. “Two lines means pregnant.”

They both let out a small gasp as their eyes drop back down to the test still clutched in Y/N’s hand. The two lines look even more defined now that they know what it means, and when they make eye contact again there are tears pooling in both of their eyes.

“We’re pregnant?” Y/N asks breathily.

“Well I don’t know how pregnant I am. But you’re definitely pregnant,” George teases with a grin.

Y/N rolls her eyes and shoves George’s shoulder before she grabs it and pulls him into a kiss. “Can’t believe I’m having a baby with an idiot like you,” she mumbles between kisses.

“And I can’t believe I’m having a baby with a meanie like you,” George responds playfully, placing his hand on Y/N’s stomach. He spreads his fingers and presses down lightly, as if there’s something there for him to feel already. “I love you,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against Y/N’s.

“You talking to me or the baby?” she asks quietly, placing her hand on top of George’s.

“Both.”

Fred Weasley ll comes into the world amidst a flurry of chaos, and it only feels right considering who his namesake is.

The day started out like any other. With her maternity leave in full effect, Y/N decided to head to the joke shop with George. While she can’t do much of anything besides sit behind the till and ring customers out, it made her feel good to be helpful rather than just sitting around the house twiddling her thumbs waiting for George to get home. And she knew George liked the fact that he could keep an eye on her throughout the day.

The pain started not too long after opening. At first she just passed it off as normal pregnancy pains, because she was nearly full term and she couldn’t remember the last time she didn’t have a dull ache radiating through some part of her body. But by midafternoon the pain was radiating through her back and down into her pelvis and not even sitting down eased it. She tried to hide it from George, not wanting him to go into full panic mode during the workday. But then he noticed her wincing as she sat back down after lunch and George started keeping an annoyingly close eye on her.

And then her water broke. George was cleaning up around the checkout counter and some dust that had been kicked up irritated Y/N’s nose and she couldn’t help but sneeze hard. When the liquid first started to leak out she was mortified, figuring she’d just pissed herself. But then she stood up and a large flush of liquid came out along with the largest pain she’d ever felt in her lower half. Y/N and George had just stared at each other for a moment, before realization hit them both. Clearly this baby was coming and coming soon.

George had one of the shop employees send an owl to his Mum while he helped Y/N up the stairs, wanting to Floo them over to St. Mungo’s as quickly as possible. Every few steps they’d had to stop so Y/N could breathe through a contraction, and by the time they reached the fireplace in their old flat George was surprised the baby hadn’t slipped out yet. Except when he reaches into the bowl on the mantle to grab some Floo Powder his fingers didn’t find anything.

They’d had to shuffle their way through Diagon Alley to use the public Floo at the Leaky Cauldron, and by the time they reached St. Mungo’s Y/N was already on the verge of giving birth and both she and George were soaked to the bone from the torrential downpour the sky unleashed halfway through their journey.

Baby Fred was born as thunder started to rumble, and he let out his first cry just as a flash of lightening came crashing down. Y/N is sure both she and George were crying harder than the rain that was going on outside. Fred’s eyes were already open when the Healer placed him on Y/N’s chest, and he was blinking up at her with wide brown eyes. He was already the spitting image of his Father, but the tufts of hair coming out of his head more resembled the color of Y/N’s hair. And while Y/N has never been particularly confident in the magic of Divination, she felt deep in her chest that he was the little boy she’d seen in her dream.

“What’s on your mind, Dad?” Y/N asks George quietly with a grin. It’s well past midnight, and little baby Fred is sleeping soundly against Y/N’s chest. George has been sitting in the chair next to Y/N’s hospital bed for the past hour watching their son’s chest rise up and down slowly, a look of concentration on his face.

“You sure it’s okay we named him after Fred?” George asks, looking up at Y/N. “We could have named him after your Dad. I didn’t even think about that. I should have thought about that.”

Y/N chuckles and pats the edge of her bed carefully, inviting George to come and sit with her. “Can I tell you about a dream I had? I think it might make you feel better.”

“Was it a sexy dream?” George asks with a raise of his eyebrows as he comes and sits down with Y/N. He rests one of his hands on Fred’s back, lightly stroking it with his thumb.

“No, it was not a sexy dream you oaf,” Y/N responds with an eye roll. “It was a couple nights before we moved, before I knew I was pregnant. It was summertime, and I was out in the backyard at the house. And Fred was there. He was chasing this little boy around in that field, the one we turned into the Quidditch pitch. And the little boy, he had my color hair but his face, his face was all you George. And then he called me Mum, and ran towards me, but I woke up before he got to me.”

George just sits there for a moment, letting Y/N’s words sink in. He suddenly feels overcome with emotion as he thinks about what she said, and he has to wipe away a few of the tears that escape his eyes. “That’s funny you say that, because I had a similar dream to that the night we found out you were pregnant.”

Y/N raises her eyebrows as she looks at George. “Really? What happened?”

“I was back at the Burrow. It was empty, quiet. But I could hear a creaking noise. And I followed it all the way up the stairs, to Fred and I’s old room. It looked the same, except there was a rocking chair in the corner. And Fred was sitting in it, and he was rocking back and forth, holding a baby. We made eye contact, but he didn’t say anything. He just gave me a little wink and then I woke up.”

“I don’t know a lot about divination or dream analysis. I don’t really know if I believe in any of it either. But I have a feeling we had those dreams for a reason,” Y/N explains, reaching up to cup one of George’s cheeks. “Like that was Fred, I dunno. Hand picking his name sake or something. Someone just as mischievous as him. A little pay back for Percy being your best man, perhaps?”

George laughs quietly and reaches a hand up to grab Y/N’s intertwining their fingers and giving them a soft squeeze. “You know what, teacup. I think you’re right. I have a feeling we’re in for a wild ride. And I can’t wait.”

And what a wild ride it is.

By the time George and Y/N are celebrating their 10-year wedding anniversary their house is steadily filling up with kids and with all the trouble they get into it’s a good thing George pushed Y/N to fulfill her dreams of being a Healer. It seems every day at least one of their kids is getting injured in some way: a scraped knee, a bump on the head, a bit of smoke inhalation from a whizbang George let Fred set off inside of the house. With how wild and unpredictable their kids are every day is an adventure, even the most mundane family days always seem to end up with something unexpected getting thrown into the mix.

“Mum! Mum! Can you open this for me? Please?” Fred asks excitedly, holding a candy bar up to Y/N’s face.

She eyes him wearily, taking it from him slowly. “Did your Dad say you could have this?”

Fred grins up at Y/N, and he looks so much like his Dad that it melts her heart. “Well he didn’t say no.” When Y/N narrows her eyes at him he lets out a giggle. “He was in the middle of filling something out and he told me to ask you.”

It’s a Saturday, so the whole family is at the joke shop together. Once Fred was born George hated having to leave him and Y/N at home when he went into the shop, so she started tagging along with the baby. It was a nice way for them to spend time together as a family, and when Y/N went back to work and the weekend became their only full family days it seemed natural for her and Fred to tag along with George to work. Now several years and a few more kids later, it’s still Y/N’s favorite family tradition.

“And so, you decided to ask me if you could have the candy bar, by asking me to open it?” Y/N asks with a laugh.

“Well if you said yes to opening it, that kinda already answers the whole, can I have it question,” Fred reasons.

Y/N rolls her eyes fondly and tears open the candy bar. “Nine years old and you’re already trying to out smart me. I’m so proud of you.” She leans down to press a kiss to his messy hair before handing him the sweet. “Share that with your sister, yeah? It’s 10 am I don’t need you on a full sugar rush already.”

“Thanks Mum!”

Fred runs off just as George comes up and he watches his son disappear with a fond shake of his head. “Oh to be young and have energy,” he muses with a grin, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist.

“Please, you still have plenty of energy left. Or have you forgotten how we got into this mess?” Y/N asks with a grin, pointing down at her bump. In just a few short weeks their family will be growing by two more, and Y/N is already exhausted just thinking about having to run after five kids.

“Oh trust me, I definitely remember how I got us into that mess,” George responds cheekily, leaning down to kiss Y/N sweetly. Luckily the store has been pretty slow so far, and they can spend the next few moments moving their lips together softly, just enjoying being in each other’s presence.

“Ew, gross,” Freya giggles, standing up on her tiptoes so she can peer at her parents over the checkout counter.

Y/N pulls away from George’s mouth with a sigh, turning her head to look at their youngest. All that’s visible over the counter is her wide eyes and the mess of fiery red curls on the top of her head. “Can we help you with something, nugget?”

Freya’s head disappears then and a few seconds later she reappears next to George’s leg, raising her arms up and bouncing on her toes. “Up please!”

“Ah, the Queen has made her demands!” George announces playfully. He gives Y/N a wink before letting her go, and he leans down to grab Freya, placing her on his shoulders. “Is this high enough for you, my Queen?” he asks, tickling her sides lightly.

“Daddy!” Freya squeals between her giggles, trying to get away from George’s attack. “No more, no more!”

George chuckles and gives her one more tickle. “Alright, alright, no more tickles.” The bell above the door jingles then and George leans down to give Y/N one final kiss. “Duty calls. I love you, teacup.”

“Love you too, Georgie.” Y/N reaches up and tugs on one of Freya’s curls. Despite the fact that she’s only three and has quite a bit of hair they’ve yet to cut any of it, and Y/N watches the long curl bounce back into place when she lets it go. “See you in a bit, nugget.”

Freya gives a little salute as George starts to head towards the customer before tangling her hands in his hair and pulling on them as if she were pulling on reins. “Horsey, horsey!”

George actually starts to move as if he were galloping, and Y/N shakes her head fondly as their daughter starts to laugh.

The store starts to pick up then, and for a few hours it seems like there’s a never-ending stream of people filtering through the door. Every once in a while Y/N gets a glimpse of George over the crowds of people, since Freya is still happily sitting on his shoulders, and every now and again Y/N watches the crowd part as Fred or Roxanne run through it.

They’ve just opened back up after shutting down for lunch, and Y/N has her back to the shop as she sorts through some of the mail. She turns around at the sound of someone clearing their throat and her heart drops into her stomach.

“Daphne. Hi,” she greets quietly, stepping back up to the counter.

It’s been over a decade since she last saw her old best friend, but the memory of their last conversation comes flooding back to her as if it took place yesterday.

“I can’t believe you’re moving in with George Weasley,” Daphne muses with a grin as she watches Y/N pack a few things away.

It’s been just over a month since they graduated from Hogwarts, and with her Healer training starting soon, Y/N decided to take George up on his offer to move into the flat above the joke shop with him and Fred. Now that they’re both transitioning into adulthood, their free time to spend together is sparse, and even though taking this next step is scary Y/N can’t wait to be officially living with George.

“I know, right? This time last year all I could think about was getting revenge on him and Fred for turning my hair yellow. And now all I can think about is the fact that I get to wake up next to him every morning,” Y/N admits with a soft blush.

“Just George and his little teacup,” Daphne teases, laughing wildly when Y/N throws a pillow at her.

Ginny had once jokingly suggested Y/N get a teacup pin after she noticed the teapot pin Y/N bought for George, since they’re always together and Y/N is so much smaller than George. After that day George’s new nickname for Y/N became teacup. And while she pretends that it annoys her, deep down she actually really loves it.

“You’re one to talk, Daph. It’s only what? A month until the wedding?” Y/N points out with a laugh. The smile on Daphne’s face falters and Y/N gives her a look. “What’s up? You’re not getting cold feet, are you?”

Daphne shakes her head as she sits up, giving Y/N a look. “No, of course not. I like to give Marcus a lot of shit pretty much all the time, but I really do love him. There’s just something I wanna talk to you about.”

“Oh?” Y/N asks quietly, sitting down across from her. There are very few things Daphne gets flustered over, and with the look she has on her face Y/N can tell she’s about to say something serious.

“You um. You can’t come. To the wedding,” Daphne stutters out, casting her gaze downwards. “Adrian said he’s not coming if you do and he’s Marcus’ best friend and I just want our wedding to be perfect and I know he’ll be upset if Adrian doesn’t come.”

Y/N can feel tears start to form in the corners of her eyes and she quickly tries to blink them away. “What? Daphne we’ve been best friends since we were eleven. You’re not going to be upset that I’m not there?”

“No of course I am! Y/N you know you’re like a sister to me. But Marcus is going to be my husband and it’s my job to do everything in my power to make him happy,” Daphne responds, reaching out to grab Y/N’s hand.

But Y/N pulls away and stands up. “Daph, it’s your wedding day too. You should have a say in who gets to be there.” Y/N pauses and just looks at Daphne, thinking about all the things they’ve been through together over the past seven years. “You’re really going to choose Adrian over me?”

“You chose George over us,” Daphne reminds her, finally making eye contact with Y/N again.

“That was different Daphne and you know that. I put space between me and Adrian because he was breaking the boundaries of our friendship and it was making George uncomfortable. And it was clearly the right decision since he kissed me and tried to get me to leave George at graduation.” Y/N sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. “George didn’t force me to do anything, Marcus is clearly forcing you to do this.”

Daphne rolls her eyes. “Marcus isn’t forcing me to do anything, I’m just doing my duty as his future wife.”

“That’s a bunch of crap and you know it. If Marcus really loved you he wouldn’t let some stupid drama from school get in the way of you being just as happy as he is,” Y/N responds firmly.

Daphne stands up then, her expression angry. “Don’t act so high and mighty, Y/N. Just because you have ambitions outside of being someone’s wife or a mother doesn’t mean you’re any better than I am.”

“Well at least when I get married I’ll be an equal in the relationship, rather than my husband’s little pet for him to boss around,” Y/N spits.

“You know what? Fuck you. You’re not welcome at my wedding. Or in my life in general.” Daphne grabs her bag and starts to storm out of Y/N’s bedroom.

“Who said I wanted to be in your life anyway?” Y/N shouts at Daphne’s back, listening to the sound of the front door slamming shut echo through the house.

“Oh. Um, hi, Y/N. I didn’t know that you worked here,” Daphne responds awkwardly, placing the few things in her arms down on the counter.

“Oh, I don’t work here, not really. I just come in on Saturdays, with the kids. It’s a good way for us to spend time together as a family.” Y/N starts to key the products into the register, not really sure what to say. The air between her and Daphne is awkward, and Y/N can see Marcus fidgeting a few feet behind Daphne, looking at some things on a shelf with a little boy. “These for your son?”

Daphne spares a glance over her shoulder at her son and Marcus, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “No, they’re for Adrian’s son. It’s his birthday today, we’re having dinner with them tonight. Although MJ does love his fair share of Weasley products.” She pauses, letting her eyes flick down to Y/N’s bump for a moment. “Is that your first?”

“Four and five actually,” Y/N responds with a laugh. She gestures to where George is standing talking with one of the employees, Freya back on his shoulders. “That’s number three over there, Freya and funnily enough she also happens to be three. And over there,” Y/N pauses gesturing to the pygmy puff cage where a little girl with curly hair the same color as Y/N’s is happily petting a little black puff. “is Roxanne, number two. She just turned six and has spent the past few weeks trying to convince us to let her take home another pygmy puff.”

Y/N scans the store for a moment, trying to find Fred. When her eyes finally land on him he has his knees hooked around a rung of the ladder George uses to reach products on the upper shelves, and he’s hanging upside down with a toothy grin. “Fred Weasley ll you get off that ladder right now! You’ve already cracked your skull open once this year and I am not cleaning up anymore of your blood.” Fred laughs wildly as he climbs down, and Y/N shakes her head as she looks back to Daphne.

“That’ll be Fred, our oldest. He’s only a few years off from Hogwarts, and is it bad if I say I’m looking forward to it just a little bit?” Y/N asks with a small laugh.

Daphne laughs as well, grabbing her wallet to pay for their stuff. “Oh trust me, I’m right there with you. I don’t know how you do it, we’ve just got MJ and I feel like I can barely keep up with him. I’m looking forward to the peace and quiet when he’s off at school.”

“George is a great help, I don’t think I could do it without him. He loves being a Dad, and he’s pretty good at it too.” Y/N hands Daphne her bag and gives her a final smile. “Thanks for coming by. It was nice to see you.”

Roxanne comes up just as Daphne and Marcus leave the store with their son and pulls up a chair so she can climb up onto the counter, being careful not to let the black pygmy puff on her head fall off. “Who was that, Mummy?”

“Just a girl I was friends with, back when I was at Hogwarts,” Y/N responds sadly, tucking a stray curl behind Roxanne’s ear.

“Oh. You’re not friends anymore?” Roxanne asks with a frown.

Y/N shakes her head and leans forward to press a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. “No, not anymore. But that’s okay. We used to have loads and loads of fun together, and now I get to have loads and loads of fun with you and your siblings and your Dad.”

“I can’t wait to make tons of friends when I’m at Hogwarts. It’s so not fair that Freddie gets to go sooner than me.” Roxanne pauses, giving Y/N a cheeky grin. “Do you think if I snuck on the train they’d just let me stay?”

“Hmm, I don’t know love. Why don’t you give it a try when it’s time for Freddie to go?”

Roxanne giggles as Y/N presses a kiss to her forehead and she gives her mother an excited look when she pulls away. “Oh trust me, I’m planning on it.”

“You think she’s going to try and sneak onto the train?” George asks, leaning over to whisper in Y/N’s ear.

They’re heading towards the entrance to Platform 9 and ¾’s to send Fred off on his very first train ride to Hogwarts. Despite the fact that it’s been over two years since Roxanne first divulged her plan to sneak to Hogwarts with her older brother, she still hasn’t forgotten about it, and she had reminded Y/N and George of her plan last night when they tucked her into bed.

“I dunno, but I don’t think it would be a bad thing to keep an extra close eye on her,” Y/N responds with a chuckle. Roxanne and Freya are walking out in front of everyone, holding hands and twirling each other around. Their curls flounce as they move, and as if she can tell they’re talking about her, Roxanne looks back at her parents and gives them a wink.

Fred is in the middle, pushing his cart along all by himself. He insisted that he could handle it on his own, since he’s going to be off at Hogwarts, and even though Y/N can tell he’s struggling a bit the grin on his face keeps her from intervening. Not that she or George would be much help. Archer and Leo, their twins, are two now, and George has one attached to each leg, giggling wildly as he walks and Y/N has a baby wrap tied around her torso, with their three-month-old daughter Scarlet laying in it fast asleep.

When they reach the wall between platforms nine and ten, Roxanne and Freya pause, looking back at their parents.

“Can we go?” Roxanne asks hopefully, mischief in her eyes.

George laughs and shakes his head. “Let your Mum and Freddie go first, yeah? You two can go through with me after.”

Roxanne pouts but steps aside, nonetheless, pulling Freya to her side as Y/N comes to stand next to Fred. She puts one of her hands on his shoulder, and the other on the handle of the cart. “Ready?” she asks, looking at her son.

“More than ready,” Fred responds with a laugh.

They push through the barrier together, and the platform looks just the same as Y/N remembers. It’s bustling with people as per usual and as George and the girls join them they navigate through the crowd to try and find a spot to say goodbye.

Once Fred’s things are loaded onto the train, Freya and Roxanne are the first to hug him goodbye, but they’re both too entranced by the Platform and the train to really care that they won’t see him for the next few months. Archer and Leo are too busy chasing each other around the small area to care, but Fred grabs them both and presses a kiss to their heads before letting them toddle off after each other again.

George pulls him into a hug first, and his hands shake as a few tears slip down his cheeks. “Love you so much, bud. You’re gonna have so much fun, I promise. Your Mum tried to take it out, but I slipped that box of Wheeze products into your trunk this morning. Just send an owl when you’re getting low and I’ll send more.” He pulls away so he can look at Fred, and the bright look in his eyes reminds him so much of him and Fred when they were that age he has to take a moment to calm himself down. “I’m handing the prank torch down to you, and I know it’ll be in good hands.”

By the time Y/N is pulling Fred into a hug there are tears fully falling down her cheeks and they fall into his hair when she brings him in as close as she can. “Don’t get into too much trouble, yeah? But have fun and learn a lot, that’s kinda the whole point.” She pulls away to press a lingering kiss to his forehead and runs her hand through his wild hair. “And don’t be too hard on the Slytherins, yeah? Your future wife might just be one of them.”

“Ew,” Fred responds, scrunching up his nose.

Y/N laughs and presses one more kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Fred. Write loads, yeah?”

“All the time,” Fred promises. He reaches into the wrap to give his littlest sister a kiss on the head before he steps back to look at both of his parents. “Bye, love you guys.”

“Hang on, one more thing.” Fred pauses and looks up at George, watching as he takes the teapot pin off of the lapel of his jacket. “A piece of me and mum for you to have with you, yeah?”

It’s the first time Y/N has seen George without it and the tears streaming down her face fall harder as he pins it to their son’s sweater. Almost subconsciously she reaches up to grab at the charms of her necklace, letting their familiar texture soothe her as she watches Fred climb up onto the train.

Forever seemed like a long time when Y/N and George first promised it to each other on that journey back to Hogwarts all those years ago. But now, watching that same train carry their first born away as their other kids laugh and play around them it just doesn’t seem like enough.

#George weasley #George Weasley smut #george weasley imagine #gw #golden

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mirrorforevers · 3 years

Text

here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader

this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:

and

this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they

1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude

2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)

3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh

it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur

consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this

also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻

tw (?) reader has shitty parents

word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)

smut. set in the 90s. au.

You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.

“Hello?” You answer, panting.

“Y/N?”

“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.

A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.

Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.

It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.

Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.

But anyway.

That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.

“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.

“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.

“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”

“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”

“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”

“Is tomorrow ok to you?”

“Sure. After our class?”

“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”

“See you.”

You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.

The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.

Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.

That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.

Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.

But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"

Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.

Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.

You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.

Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.

You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.

One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.

That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.

The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.

(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)

It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.

You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.

Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.

Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.

You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.

And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.

After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.

“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,” you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.

His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.

“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”

“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”

The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.

“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”

“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”

“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”

“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”

“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”

“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”

The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”

“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.

“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”

“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”

Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.

Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.

“What do you think?” is what you say.

“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”

You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”

Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”

Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.

They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.

“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.

“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”

“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.

“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”

That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.

“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”

“But that’s your--”

“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”

“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”

“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”

The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.

The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?

You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.

You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”

“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”

“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”

“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”

Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.

The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:

You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.

The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.

You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--

You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.

He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.

“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”

“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”

“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”

“Uh… the day of your audition?”

“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”

His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”

You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”

“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”

“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.

“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”

“What, exactly?”

“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.

“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”

“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”

“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.

“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”

He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”

“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”

“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”

His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.

If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.

“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”

“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”

“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”

“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”

“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”

He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”

“Huh?”

“I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”

“No way.”

“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”

“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”

“I’m nothing special.”

“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”

“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”

“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”

“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”

“I know.”

Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”

“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.

“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”

You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”

You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.

The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.

The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

Four beeps. “Hello?”

You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.

“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”

“Do you still want to…?”

“...Desperately.”

“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”

“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”

“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”

“The basics.” You make your smile heard.

“I do have… I do have the basics.”

“See you in a few minutes then.”

“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”

“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Alright then. See you.”

“See you.”

You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.

2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.

He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.

The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.

“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.

Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.

“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.

“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”

“Would you like me to go down on you?”

“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”

“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”

“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”

You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.

As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”

He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”

And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.

His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.

You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.

You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”

“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”

“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”

“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.

Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.

Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.

“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”

You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?

“Absolutely.”

The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”

“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”

After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”

“As you wish.”

He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.

His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.

“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.

He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.

Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.

When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.

Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.

I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.

#graham coxon #alex james #damon albarn #dave rowntree #blur #britpop #smut #imagine #reader insert #graham coxon x reader #graham x reader #y/n #fluff #au #fanfiction #blur band

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writer-panda · 3 years

Text

Hit on the groom and what became of it - chapter 2/Take me out maybe (with a sniper rifle)

Disclaimer: I don’t own Miraculous or Batman (and other DC characters). This is just a fanfiction.

Chapter 1 -|- Next

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As much as Marinette disliked the meeting with the female entourage, when the time came to start working on Adrien’s suit she wanted to scream. She could clearly see that he was uncomfortable with even the gentlest touches. She did her best to make it as non-invasive to him as possible.

They had absolutely no privacy whatsoever. The Bodyguard (Gerard; His name was Gerard) and Nathalie observed their every move. Marinette was half-convinced it wasn’t her who was under watch.

The professional atmosphere was far cry from her usual working environment. When Uncle Jagged, Clara Nightingale, or even Diana Prince came to her for clothes, it was always very informal. They would joke, gossip, or exchange stories while she worked. Now? Now she was wary of even speaking with Adrien.

Likewise, the boy refused to meet her eyes or open his mouth.

At some point, when she was trying to find the right shade of white for the undershirt, she noticed a make-up stain that was not there before.

“I’m sorry, but I will need to request you remove the makeup. It is staining my materials.” She informed Nathalie and Gerard coldly. It was all she could do to resist calling the police there and there. Sadly, the commissioner was good friends with Gabriel, so it would most likely just end her career and make it worse for Adrien.

“I was assured it would not leave stains on materials. Please accept our apologies. We will cover the costs of destroyed materials,” Nathalie informed her in an equally cold voice.

“I see…” Marinette’s lips thinned. Inside, she was screaming. But there was nothing she could do. The hit was in place. Soon Adrien would be safe. It would go without a hitch. It had to.

As the group was leaving, she could’ve sworn the Bodyguard gave her a mournful look. As if he shared her sentiment, but was powerless to stop it. She’d know that look. She saw it in the mirror all too often.

---------

The Wedding (even the narrator started to capitalize it) came faster than Marinette wanted to accept. And there were still no words about the kidnapping. She made sure to specify that they were to take him before he was married or no payment. Did she not make the money enticing enough? Were there already attempts that were stopped without media coverage? Maybe she forgot to check some boxes?

A million scenarios ran through her head as she wandered through the alleyways.

The whole event was happening in Gotham Botanic Garden. Whatever the weak excuse was given to the press, Marinette knew the real reason: it was one of the few places in the world where Gabriel could marry his son to Lila legally without messing with courts. And bribes were said to be cheapest there.

As the designer for both the bride and the groom, she was invited to the main ceremony.

Lila was kind enough to even give her a seated place… right next to Chloé Bourgeois.

Marinette had a hard time deciding if it was bigger punishment to her or the mayor’s daughter. Ultimately, the two girls did their best to not look at each other during preparations. At first, that is, because the first chance she got, Chloé to drag the designer to a remote garden gazebo in a secluded corner when she was least expecting it.

“Wha-!” Marinette was about to protest, but the blonde covered her mouth. She seated her on the bench and took the seat on the opposite side.

“I’ve been friends with Adrien since we were kids.” She announced in the usual ‘I’m-better-than-you’ tone. “I also know that you’re not always an idiot.”

“Gee! Thanks, Chloé… I’m honored with your praise.” Marinette deadpanned, interrupting the heiress. “Now get to the point”. She really hoped her dress wasn’t damaged or she might just turn to murder.

“Fine. You worked with Adrien on his suit.” She paused, and for a moment, just a brief moment, her mask fell. That was not what Marinette expected. She has never seen Chloé so… so… The designer’s brain lacked the word to describe how her childhood bully looked like. “How is he?” The blonde asked, her voice almost trembling.

Marinette opened her mouth, but no sound came.

A moment passed.

“Not good.” She finally admitted. “During the measurements, he winced even at delicate touches. Plus I was called in last week to make some adjustments to his garments. He lost weight between then and now. And he wore makeup on his right arm. On both occasions.”

“Makeup?” Chloé’s eyes widened.

“Yes. I would’ve probably missed it if I didn’t soak my fabric into makeup removed beforehand.” She thought back fondly to her brilliant idea.

“They hurt him!?” Chloé burst out after few seconds. “I will show those… those…”

“Believe me, I share the sentiment.” Marinette nodded sagely. She needed plan B and needed it fast. There had to be something… “I slipped him a burner phone on his way out. I doubt they found it. If it gets really bad, he can try calling the police.”

“You are devious sometimes, Dupain-Cheng.”

“Thanks. I try.”

“So… they are coercing him into it?”

“I think so. He is resigned to his fate it seems, but he tries to show some rebelliousness. It wasn’t his father’s idea to hire me and Lila would rather walk to the altar naked than wear anything by me.” Marinette cringed. Any interaction she had with the Liar made her feel almost dirty. And forcing politeness was physically painful sometimes.

“I got that much from the fact he hasn’t reported it yet. That burner phone was a good move, but Adrikins was always too obedient.”

“And I’m sure you had nothing to do with it,” Marinette muttered, but Chloé didn’t hear her. The heiress somehow managed to derail her rant into telling the story of her entire childhood.

Marinette listened only with one ear, filtering the information for something useful. The rest of her consciousness focused on something else. She started to seriously entertain the idea of using Miraculous to get Adrien out. She would need a combination of several powers though. Trixx was the obvious choice. Illusions would be a great asset. Maybe the Tiger, for the Power Up? If Roaar didn’t exaggerate her power, she would be able to put a distance between them and the city before anyone even realized what happened. She would need to time her illusion right though. And there were the American Heroes to watch out for…

If she didn’t use miraculous immediately, she might get a drop on the bodyguard(s) and then make an exit using Kaalki’s power when they were alone. Disable cameras, take out the guards, get in, portal out. It was feasible but still involved too many risks. If anyone connected miraculi to the operation, Ladybug would be in great trouble. She couldn’t endanger Paris like that… not even for her partner and best friend.

Then, there was the most dangerous plan. Don’t use Miraculi at all. She was confident enough in her skills to enter undetected. Maybe even sneak out. The question was, would Adrien make it. She could sneak him Plagg’s ring. Chat Noir would have no problem leaving any prison. But… there would be the same risk as when any other Miraculi was connected and the whole point was not to use them in the first place.

“Ugh!” She let out an angry sound that startled Chloé.

“What’s with you, Dupain-Cheng! Don’t you see I’m opening my heart to you!?”

“Shut up, I’m trying to do something productive.” She snapped at the blonde.

“Why, I…”

“Silence. Your tale was entirely unhelpful. Let me focus.”

Gotham. What was in Gotham that could help her? The most corrupt city, famous for its high crime rate, mad villains, and eternal gloominess. Even now she could feel some of it resonate in the air. As if the whole city was one big Akuma. Probably no help from the establishment… The police were more likely to put a bag on her head and deliver her to one of the crime families…

“What in Gotham can help…” She voiced her musing loudly, causing Chloé to peak up.

“Waynes!” She proclaimed. “That serial adopter would jump at the chance to get another orphan…”

“Adrien isn’t an orphan… Yet.” Marinette grumbled. “But he will be married by then, so I would need to plan a double homicide… Meh. No great loss.” She said without a shadow of care. It was like the thoughts about the murder were completely normal for her.

Chloé shivered. “Remind me not to get into your way when you’re in that mood.”

In the distance, the orchestra was starting to play, signaling the guests that the ceremony would start soon.

“Ugh! Hawkmoth it!” Marinette raged as she ran to the clearing. She no longer had the time and if she was the only one missing, Lila would make her prime suspect for anything that happened. Blast it. She would get one more chance. Screw the career. She could survive living somewhere in Argentina if it all went to hell.

-------

Adrien already accepted his fate. His father and Lila made sure that all avenues of further rebellion were closed. He exhausted everything there was.

To this day, he was grateful for that burner phone from Marinette. He made sure to hide it but always have it somewhere nearby. It became a form of a lifeline for him. A one-off save-your-life ticket. It would only work in short term, but at the rate everything was going, it could potentially save his life…

He missed his life before the mess with The Wedding started.

Hell! He even missed Plagg’s stinking cheese. He would maim for some camembert.

“Adrien,” Gerard spoke solemnly. There was no need for more words. They both knew what was about to happen and Adrien took just a bit of solace in the fact that he was not entirely alone, even if no one could help him.

“I’m ready.” He spoke, barely above a whisper.

Before he realized it, the ceremony was undergoing. Lila, in her stunning dress, held the attention on herself like a pro. No one even thought about looking anywhere but at them. The dress was similarly just so… Lila. It made all of her features all the more proponent. Yet, there was just a small, barely noticeable, stitch that said Marinette. A smile ghosted his face. There was some good out of this. He managed to make his friend famous. After today, no one would deny her style.

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.” The marriage officiant spoke. Adrien didn’t even care what convention the wedding was in.

The silence swept across the garden.

No one dared to even breathe loudly.

Adrien lowered his head. Here, the last…

There was a rustle somewhere close to the front. He looked up, a small glimmer of hope appeared in his eyes.

Marinette was standing there, her backs straightened and one finger held up. “I…”

She felt the gaze of hundreds of guests on her. They were the most influential people in the world of modern business. Waynes. Luthor. Queen. Burgeiose. Agreste… And they all kept staring at her.

She tried to swipe the hall with a glance, but something attracted her attention. A glint of light somewhere in the distance.

“Watch out!” She shouted, tossing a chair she was sitting on just a moment ago.

The metal item sailed through the air until it crashed in the middle of the alley.

With an arrow sticking out of it.

For a second (which felt much longer) everyone stared at it.

Then the mass panic started. People got out of their chairs and started trying to get out of there. They trampled one another as each considered themselves to be the most important, hence first to evacuate. It was chaos.

Among the mass of people, Marinette tried her best to make it to the altar. She saw that Gerard and several other hired bodyguards were of similar minds.

She managed to squeeze through the crowd the fastest, only to find Lila knocked out and Adrien and the Officiant missing. Adrien’s cousin (best man) and Alya (bridesmaid) were both nowhere to be found. They probably ran away. There was still no trace of the Groom. That is until she saw a giant mass of brown mud dragging the boy away.

The sad thing? Adrien wasn’t really protesting much.

Gerard was the next to make it through. He noticed Adrien a tad quicker and tried to chase whoever it was that tried to kidnap Adrien, but a fist made of mud slammed into him, sending him flying away.

“Holy Hawkmoth!” Marinette cursed once more. Okay, so far, it was only a curse for her, but he deserved it.

In the distance, police sirens could’ve been heard, but with how fast the mud was escaping, Adrien would be long gone before the police arrived. Marinette had to do something.

Wait… Why am I trying to stop the kidnapping I ordered? She suddenly questioned herself, freezing in place.

Two guards rushed past her and started firing at the mass, but the bullets seemed to be about as effective as Parisian police when dealing with Akuma.

The last Marinette saw of Adrien he was being taken into the sewers.

-----------

After the police arrived, Marinette was of course first to be interrogated. (“Gee… Thanks, Lila”). They wanted to know how she noticed the arrow, did she see the attacker, how did the kidnapper looked like, and dozens of other questions. By the end, she was exhausted. Somewhere after the sixth question, her phone pinged. Luckily, the police didn’t bother with checking it and believed that it was just a worried friend.

Not the kidnapper trying to contact their employer.

Finally, after the police released her and informed her that no further information was needed, she could contact her Maman.

“Sweety? Are you okay? I’ve seen the news!” Was the first thing that came through

“Yeah. Don’t worry. I’m perfectly fine. The police held me back for questioning a bit. I’m going back to the hotel and be back in Paris first flight tomorrow, okay?”

“Stay in Gotham! I’m coming to pick you up!” Her mother informed her.

“Wha-!? But there is no need! Seriously Maman! There’s no need to trouble yourself.”

There was a silence on the line for a moment and Marinette could feel that her mother was trying to glare at her through the phone. It worked.

“Fine… I’m at Wayne Plaza, room 30-14.” She relented, not wanting any more arguments. She would still have several hours to sort the mess with Adrien. What could possibly go wrong?

Trying her best to be careful, Marinette left the site of crime and traveled to the industrial district. The taxi driver couldn’t be bothered less about why she wanted to go there. He just wanted to get paid and leave.

The only-slightly-creepy aura of the completely silent area full of factories and warehouses served as a perfect background to contacting the kidnapper. Marinette, after making sure she was truly alone, activated the voice-scrambling app on her burner and dialed the number that sent her the text about successful work. Her Maman showed her that, thinking she wanted it for a prank. Or that’s how Marinette presented it anyway.

“Who is this?!” A voice on the other side of the call asked.

Marinette took a deep breath before answering. “I was led to believe you have what I wanted.” She tried her best to channel Chloé into her voice.

“Ah… Yes… There’s been a… complication.”

“What do you mean ‘complication’?” She hissed into the phone call.

“Um… I had the package… But then someone stole the stolen package…” Whoever that was informed her.

“Who?” She demanded.

“Last I checked, Lawton was the one who had ‘im… But it might’ve changed. But don’t worry, Boss… lady?” They asked. Marinette didn’t give either confirmation or scolding, so they continued. “I’m still in the game.” With that, they hang up.

“What did I just get myself into…” She moaned. Then, the realization hit her. “What did I just get Adrien into…”

Elsewhere, Adrien was starring into a pair of curious sea-green eyes.

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#maribat #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #batman #dc #DC comics #MLB #mlb x dc #BAMF Marinette #villain marinette #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste

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marblesphere · 3 years

Text

Dream or Reality (Noctis x Reader)

I wrote this fic years ago. So, I fixed up a little and decided to post it here. I have also posted it in devianart under LastMoogleHunter. Happy reading!

“Aaaaahhh….what a boring day, always the same. There’s nothing new, nothing makes me excited.” I sighed for the umpteenth times. I see, I haven’t introduced myself, my name is [Name] [Last Name], I am 12th grade in Destiny High. This is my last year, thus was recommended in making good memories. Though…there is nothing fun, I wish Final Fantasy characters are real people. That’ll so much fun, especially if there is Noctis.....

Kyaaaa!!! I am so embarassed... ahem, let’s put that aside and let’s get onto the story.

This morning also has the same routine, wake up, bath, breakfast, school, home, dinner, sleep and so on. And coincidentally my literature teacher decides it’s fun to see her students suffer, and thus given us a homework about composition. I groan, this is going to kill my brain cells. “God, please let my life get interesting such as Final Fantasy character come to life..... Just kidding, it’s not like it can be granted anyway.” I exhaled. I put my homework and stationery on my desk and start thinking about the theme I am going to write. Not long after I start doze off.

My internal clock woke me up from my slumber. Groggily, I glance my clock and it shows 6.30 a.m. I blink once, twice and rub my eyes to make sure I am not mistaking it. In instant, all sleepiness fades away. ”Aaaahh!! I am late!!” I freaked out and with lightning speed I took a bath. While I was stripping though, something fell from my shorts’ pocket. I pick it up and examine it, it was a golden watch. Curious, I open it and something was craved on the lid ‘aeternam vinculo’ ‘what’s this mean? More importantly when I got this thing?’ I was thinking and completely forgotten the time.

“[Name]! breakfast is ready!” Kaa-san called.

“No way!” I yelped and resumed my activity.

I run down the stairs and eat breakfast quickly, “[Name], there’s still some time.” Kaa-san said.

I gulp down my orange juice, “Gotta go. Bye Kaa-san, Tou-san.” I said as I ran to school. Fortunately, the distance to school from my house is not that far. Upon arriving there, I still see a lot of students leisurely walking to the school. Looks like I am safe. I sigh in relief as I pat my chest. suddenly, I feel a tap on my shoulder and I turn around, but the sight of that ‘someone’ tapping my shoulder made my eyes widenend.

“Morning.” He said, while I blinked once, twice, titled my head and stare at him as he is an alien landing on earth. The person who greeted me is no other than the famous Chocobo head, Cloud Strife.

I keep staring at him without blinking. “You…” I could only manage a word to come out from my mouth.

Cloud looks at me oddly, “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Good morning you two.” A new voice called. Our head snap to that direction and find Tifa and Yuffie are walking toward us.

My eyes widened ‘[Name].exe is shutting down.’ I can practically hear a robotic voice said that. ‘What exactly is going on?’

Seeing my confused blank looking face, concern made to Tifa’s face, “[Name], what’s wrong?” She asked.

So, I did the most logical action I could at the moment, I pinch my left hand, “Ow…” ‘It hurt.’ I rubbed my reddening left hand.

“[Name], are you really alright?” Tifa asked again. “Don’t worry Tifa, I bet she just woke up.” Yuffie grinned.

‘It’s not a dream....? t-they are really alive...?’ I am still confused, I am still not sure if I am having a realistic dream or this is the reality. But if so, what about yesterday and the day before yesterday and the days before today? Was that reality a dream? And this is the real reality? My mind is in jumbled mess, but I am happy. My wish has come true, my wish for the Final Fantasy characters are real people and as a bonus I have befriend with them. There’s no more I could ask for.

I feel someone shakes me. “Huh?” I snapped back to the reality.

“Maybe we should get her to infirmary.” Tifa said.

“Whooa. [Name], you really sick?” Yuffie was shocked by the news.

“Let’s go.” Cloud said as he prepared to drag me.

“W-wait! I’m fine, I just dozing because I just woke up.” I said putting a sheepish grin.

“See, she’s just woke up.” Yuffie grinned again, but I can see she was relieved as well.

‘Well, I did wish something interesting like this happen. Well, dream or not let’s enjoyed it to the last.’ I smiled at my thought as we walked to the class.

Upon entering class, I no longer panic on what I saw. There are some FF characters here and there, but I spot no Noctis, ‘Well, I’ll be lying if I am not disappointed.’ I sigh softly. ‘Well, nothing goes smooth now.’

Then I heard giggles and squeals. ‘Don’t tell me this is a famous scene from shoujo manga. The moment when male lead and his group enter the classroom. If so, then… Those girls will be the mortal enemies of the female lead. After the plot milked her usefulness, she and her sidekicks will fall into ruin.’ I blinked as I looked at those girls. ‘What a shame. They look nice enough though. But, I wonder who they’re fangirling about.’ I follow the crowd’s eyes, then the door opened revealing ‘Emergency! Mayday! Mayday! All staffs please evacuate! The ship will sink soon!Eh? EEEEEEHHHHH???!!! What is happening?! Why is he here?! No... I mean… I am happy that he is here. But he being here is a problem itself to me, in many ways.’ The one who opened the door is no other than Noctis.

I stiffen when he walks to me. “Good morning.” He muttered as he walked past me to his seat which is behind me.

“Mo-morning…?” And the problem is I was suttering when I replied, ‘Now I’ve done it…. he officially think I am one of his fangirls.’ I sighed earning a few snickers from Tifa and Yuffie which I give them an odd look.

“Morning, Hime-chi.” Prompto greeted.

I am not sure who is Hime-chi is. But seeing no one responds to him, it must be me, right? “Morning…?” I greeted back hesitantly.

During the duration of the lesson, I can’t concentrate at all. Part of it is because Noctis is sitting behind me. The other part is I am frantically thinking what should I do, what is my relationship with him and the other characters. Just because some of them are my friends, that doesn’t mean all of the characters must be my friends. And I have to be careful how to act around them, so they didn’t notice my awkwardness.

The bell rings signaling lunch break. Finally, me and the group which included almost all of the alvalanche members plus some other go to school cafeteria. Minus Cid and Barret cause they’re too old to go to school anyway which I found out later the two of them are school staffs. Barret as P.E teacher and Cid as engineer. And of course, let’s not forget Zack and Aerith. We go to cafeteria to eat lunch, while the others eat and talking each other, I am thinking about a lot of thing and that mysterious golden watch.

“[Name].” A voice snapped me out of my own world and I found all of them were staring at me.

“Huh?” I blinked owlishly.

“Are you okay?” Aerith asked worriedly.

“Did they bully you?” Prompto frowned.

“Eh? Bully? Who?” I tilted my head not understanding who were they talking about. ‘…For the first time in my life I was bullied…’

“WHAT!? Those girls are bullying my little sister?! How dare they!” Zack raged.

“W-Wait a minute. I am fine. No one is bullying me.” I said quickly calming them down.

“I heard something about bullying [Name]. Who is daring enough to do that?” Another new voice chimed in.

“Ah.” I blinked at the newcomers, twins exactly.

“Stella, Luna. Where were you guys?” Yuffie asked.

“Sorry, the teacher needed us just now.” Stella apologized.

“So, I heard someone is bullying [Name]? Which idiot?” Luna smiled scarily.

“No one was bullying me.” I shook my head quickly. ‘Scary…. Does Lunafreya is this kind of character?’ I sweatdropped.

“If we are talking about bullying, then I am sure it’s no other than her and her little group.” Tifa rolled her eyes.

‘I wonder who and why would people bully me? I don’t think I’ve ever made someone mad enough to be bullied by them.’ I scanned the cafeteria and spot a group of girls glaring at me, ‘Ah. So, they are the bully group.’ Then a mop of blond caught my attention, I narrow my eyes to get better sight, ‘…Who is she? I have never meet her before, but strangely her name popped out in my mind. Tachibana Kirika-san, Noct’s fangirl…. Ah, no wonder.’ I looked at her object of affection.

“Ignore them” Noct said.

“Umm...okay.” I answered.

After that staring contest, all is well. No war break between us. The last bell finally rings, signaling the end of school. And so, as per usual ritual, apparently we always go home together. “See you tomorrow.” I waved to them when I arrived at my house.

“See you.” They waved back. I open the door only to find it is hollow of life. I found a note one dinner table ‘Business trip one week, there’s a leftover for dinner. We’ll get your cousin to stay at the house tomorrow.’ I sighed. It’s still the same,’Oh well, I’m used to it.... wonder who is my cousin. This is the first time I heard about having a cousin staying over.’

Tired and still in term of accepting what has happened today. I am feeling really sleepy, but I didn’t dare to sleep. What if this is just a dream and I’ll wake up in the same position on my desk, as selfish as it may sound I still don’t want this to end yet. So many thoughts race in my head, absetmindedly I take out the golden watch and finally fallen asleep holding that.

I wake up with a start and glancing at my room, then realize something, FF charas. ‘Is it a dream?’ I sighed and I felt something in my hand. The golden watch, it’s still here. That means ‘It’s not a dream.’ I grinned widely, they are real. Thus, I quickly begin my routine of the day.

Arriving to the class, I greet them. Them as in the group. “Morning.” I greeted.

“Morning.” They replied. I sit at my seat and put my bag on drawer, but then a sharp pain creeps through my hand, instictively I take out my hand and trail of blood is dripping from my hand. My eyes flicker at the sound of giggles, there Tachibana Karin stand proudly at what she have done, she even raises her chin up to which I reply with raised eyebrow.

‘Truly, this is the first time I am being bullied for real.’

Seeing my bloodied right hand and still bleeding. Cloud quickly take my hand and examines it. “You okay?” He asked.

“As okay as someone will be with bleeding hand.” I remarked. Zack is definitely pissed off by the look of his face and stalks toward them.

“Why you little-“

“Zack. There’s no need to get angry.” I called to him.

Ignoring my call, he still stalks toward them, that is until Vincent holds him, “Ignore them. We should take her to infirmary.” He said.

“No no no. we can’t let this kind of things go.” Stella stepped in.

“Indeed. We’ll need to teach her a lesson.” Luna easily agreed with the older twin.

“Stella, Luna. Not you two too.” I sweatdropped.

“Let’s just take [Name] to infirmary first.” Tifa said. With that, the group accompanies me to the infirmary.

“The cut isn’t deep, it will heal in few days.” Nurse Quistis said after she finished bandaging me.

“Thank you.” I thanked her.

“It’s my job, now off you go to class.” She ushered.

“Yes ma’am.” I give her mock salute as I get out of the room.

Entering the class, I was bombarded with questions. Quistis kicked all of the out for being so noisy and too much. “I am fine.” I said for the umpteenth time.

Then Tachibana-san comes to me and asks with her sickly sweet voice, “How was your hand? Is it hurt?”

“Well, why don’t we try it to your hand. And then you’ll know whether it’s hurt or not.” I smiled eraning a few snickers from my friends as they heard my reply.

Tachibana-san’s face is red with anger and opens her mouth to say something. But then, the door opened revealing Noctis and Prompto. she quickly puts her sweet façade again to which I know that isn’t fooling anyone with decent IQ. “Good morning.” She greeted him which was ignored and laughter rose from our throats.

“If you didn’t do something like bullying his friends, you might have a chance.” I told her.

“You!” She gritted her teeth.

‘Aaah… She really didn’t get it.’ I sighed mentally. “Good morning you two. How unusuall for you to almost late.” I greeted.

“Good morning, Hime-chi. You see, we are almost late because we met an old woman on the street. She… Hime-chi, what happened to your hand?” Prompto frowned when he saw bandage on my left hand.

“Your hand...”

“Oh, this..” I said as I lift my hand. “Apparently, someone with a bad hobby finds it interesting to get me scream in pain. Unfortunately, they didn’t get what they want.” I smiled. Noct opens his mouth to ask something when the bell rang, signalling the start of class. All of us goes back to our seat. Well, in my case after recieving a hateful glare from Tachibana-san.

‘More importantly I wonder… Why is she targeting me? I mean, Noct’s female friends are not only I. There are Luna and Stella too…. Does she know I like him…? Well, I do like him as character in games before. And meeting him right now does make my feeling stronger… but, I am not sure if I like him as man… Besides…’ A certain scene from the game flashes in my mind. It’s overlapping in a scene I’ve seen here. ‘I am such a fool… obviously they are together…’ A bitter smile graces my lips.

The lessons went well, save for the ocasion hateful glare... okay scratch that, hateful glare all along. Lucnh break bell rings..... “Okay class, that’s all for today... oh and there is winter ball on the 28th December. All of you MUST come, it’ll be the last event for you. Class dissmissed.” Then the teacher goes out of classroom.

I groan inwardly, ‘Great… a ballroom.’ Note the sacarsm. The students scatters, chatting about the ball, while the group (girls only) advance to me.

“Soooo.....” Yuffie begins the conversation. “Who is going to be your date?” she asked excitedly.

“I don’t want to go.” I groaned again.

“You shouldn’t idle too long [Name], he will be snatched away.” Aerith said gigglig slightly.

“He? Who?” I titled my head. ‘Do I like someone?’

“Of course it’s him.” Yuffie answered.

“Tsk tsk tsk. As if [Name] will like another boy except from him.” Stella raised her brow.

“That dense man is too dense.” Luna giggled.

“Who is he exactly?” I frowned. But to them, my expression right now is quite funny because they are giggling.

“Don’t play dumb [Name]. all of us already know who is he. He is the one who gifted you the golden watch on your birthday.” Tifa said.

‘So, that was a gift from someone. And that someone is my crush so to speak…’ I blinked. ‘Who is…’ Suddenly the answer appeared itself in my mind.

*Poof* my face explodes to a blush. ‘It’s him. That man who is a trouble to me just by being here.’ I covered my face looking away from the evil grins on their faces.

“That time he was so shy. It’s funny, right?” Yuffie exclaimed.

“Hey, you guys.” I was saved by Reno. “Who are going to be you girls’ date?” He asked excitedly.

“Not again…” I groaned. “Reno, you don’t have any delicacy at all.” I whined.

“What happened to her?” Reno blinked.

“Just girl trouble.” Stella giggled followed by the rest of the girl.

“I mean you guys have fixed date already. Is there any point to ask?” I pouted. “I’m sure Tifa is going with Cloud, Aerith and Zack, Yuffie with Vincent. Stella is with Prompto and Luna will be going with No-.” I said.

“My date is a secret.” Luna cut my sentence.

“Secret?” I blinked.

“Yep. You’ll know when the time comes.” She smiled mysteriously.

“So, what about you [Name]? Wanna be my date?” He winked.

I snort, “No, thank you.” I flat out rejected him. “If I go with you. Your group of angry girlfriends will be waiting for me. Nuh-uh. I still want to be perfectly healthy, thank you.” All of them excluding Reno who is now sulking are laughing at his misfortune. “I am probably going alone. There’s no rule I can’t go alone.” I smiled. “…What’s wrong?” I blinked when I found them stared at me oddly.

“[Name]… You are quite dense…” Tifa sweatdropped.

“Huh?” I titled my head.

“[Name] you know, you are quite popular. If you say you are searching for a date. Everyone will probably line up.” Aerith giggled.

“…You are teasing me, aren’t you? I have a plain face you know. The one that is neither pretty, beautiful or cute. Besides, if I mean if I am quite popular, how come no one talk to me or better yet flirt to me?” I put an unamused face.

‘That’s because a certain someone made sure no one will not talk to you more than necessary. How can they have a gut to flirt with you with him hanging around you like a guard dog.’ All of them sweatdropped.

“Enough about me. What about the prince?” I turned my question to the prince that walked past me back to his seat.

“About what?” He sat back down.

“The winter ball. Who are you escorting?” I asked.

He snorts. “I don’t want to go.” He said.

“Me too. But we are forced to go.” I chuckled.

“I am waiting for someone.” He answered shortly. His answer makes the boys laugh. I raise my eyebrow at their odd reaction.

“You should hurry and ask her out, or else she’ll out of your reach.” Zack chuckled.

“Yep. After all the effort you put into.” Cloud nodded.

Zack’s word make my chest stings a bit. ‘What is this feeling?’ I blink the I shake my head to ignore it and chat with the rest of them.

Zack’s word is still ringing in my head. I am indeed curious as who is he going to ask, but I am more curious about the feeling in my heart just now. ’They are just characters from game, right? So, why did I have this feeling? Besides, I am sure he is going to ask Luna. No need to think that hard. They obviously are going to reveal it at the winter ball.’ I finally asleep while thinking about this.

Again, I wake up from my peaceful slumber before the alarm rings. I rub my eyes to get rid the alimighty power of sleepiness. The calendar on my wall made me realize this is Saturday. ‘Oh, it’s finally this day.’

As usual, I did my everyday routine, and then off to school. My peaceful day was once again ruined by Tachibana-san and the rabid fangirls follower.

“You! You dare to embarass me the other day, in front of my Noctis no less.” She screehed.

“My...Noctis...? Wow, I am not sure how to reply to that statement... Besides, weren’t you the one asked me about my hand, I just answered that it would be better for you to experience it first hand.” I answered effortlessly.

“You bitch!” She swung her hand to slap me. I am ready to dodge and prepare some wise words. But, her hand was caught midair by a more masculine hand.

I turn my head to get a better look of my savior. ‘Squall.’ I blinked at the unexpected character. ‘Rinoa shouldn’t be too far from Squall.’ I giggled inwardly at my own thought.

“You better stop this or you’ll get more than just slapping.” He growled. Tachibana-san turns pale. She and her follower quickly retreat back.

Then suddenly a girl pops out from his side. “Are you okay, [Name]?” Said girl is no other than Rinoa. ‘As I thought, Rinoa is not far.’ I chuckled at my own thought.

“I am fine.” I answered. “But, why are you two here?” I asked, I am not surprised with the characters popping out as my friends anymore. Last time, I found out Ignis is our Chemistry teacher and Gladioulus as our school security guard.

“Listen well! this isn’t over! I’ll make your life a living hell!” Tachibana-san sreeched which we of course ignored. The she stomps out here with her rabid fangirls follower.

“Just like always, you are a trouble magnet.” Squall Leonhart, which like to be called Leon sighed.

“You haven’t answered my question... Squeon.” I added my personal nickname just to annoy him.

“Your parents were worried, so they asked me to take care of you.” He said ignoring my nickname.

“I am fine, Squeon.” I said again.

Squall snorts, he lifts my bandaged hand, “And you said this was okay.”

“[Name], you are injured. What happened?” Worrywart Rinoa asked.

“I am okay. It’s just a small wound, Quistis said it will heal in 2 or 3 days.” I said calming Rinoa down.

Then, we heard some footsteps running toward us. The group are rushing to us. “Squall! Rinoa!” They exclaimed happily when they saw them.

“It’s Leon.” He grunted.

“Nooo, it’s Squeon.” I laughed. Squall only glares at me using his infamous glare.

“Long time no see.” Rinoa smiled.

“[Name], are you alright? I heard from some people Tachibana was bullying you, what did she do to you?” The now panicking Tifa asked.

“I am okay. she was just going to slap me, but Squeon stopped her.” I answered.

“WHAT?! She was going to slap you?! That damn bitch! How dare she!” Zack cursed.

“Calm down. I am not strupid just standing there waiting her slaps me.” I snorted. ‘Besides, which idiot will stand still when they are going to be hit.’

“By the way, if Squall and Rinoa are here. Does that mean they are going to be your care taker again?” Cloud asked.

“Yes, they are.” I said grinning.

“Oooooh, it’s rare that we can gather here together. So, how about we go to Chocobo Land tomorrow?” Yuffie exclaimed excitedly.

“Chocobo Land.... Well, it’s been a while, the last time we go together was on [Name]’s birthday.” Aerith said. With that said, all of us decide to go to Chocobo Land tomorrow. Unbeknwon to me, I am playing right to their trap.~”~

“Eeeeehhhh~ Why can’t you go with us?” I asked, dismayed at the fact we couldn’t spend time together.

“Rinoa isn’t feeling well.” Was Squall short answer.

But I can’t shake the feeling that something is off. “She was fine yesterday.” I mumbled.

“Yesterday and today are different.” But all I did was stare, stare and stare. He sighs, “Just go already, you don’t want to be late, right?” He ushered me to go.

“Yes~” I sulked.

Arriving at the Chocobo Land. Only Noctis is at the rendezvous point. “Hey, Noct, where is the others?” I asked.

“They still haven’t arrived.” He answered.

‘Weird. They are usually on time. Maybe Yuffie will be a little late.’ I blinked at the unusual happening. And suddenly our phones ring at the same time signalling there are messages in our group chat.

Tifa

“Sorry, my parents are out of town suddenly. Need to housesit.”

Yuffie

Some brats in neighborhood are hunting my treasure. Need to safeguard it.

Zack

Am grounded. T.T

Luna

“Sis and I have trouble escaping from arranged marriage.

Stella

“Have fun. We will arrive there late.”

Aerith

“The shop is crowded. I can’t go out yet.”

Squall

“Rinoa is sick. Need to take care of her.”

Rinoa

Sorry guys.

Cloud

“Fixing my bike.”

Vincent

“…Sleepy…”

Prompto

“Helping acquaintance in photoshoot.”

‘What kind of hellish timing is this?’ I sweatdropped. ‘…No matter how I think, they are definitely setting us up.’ I sighed softly.

The two of us look at each other and sigh. “We were set up.” He said. “So, what should we do? Should we go home?” He asked again.

“Hmmm… We’re already here anyway. So, let’s just play. Just the two of us.” I grinned. A small smile is tugging on his lip hearing my sentece. But, unbeknown to us, we were followed by eight enthusiastic stalkers plus two reluctant stalkers and cameras.

Everywhere and anywhere as far as I can see, all I can see is Chocobo. The excitement is building up. “Chocobo♪~ Chocobo♪~.” I hummed out with sparkling eyes.

“Your love for Chocobo is something else.” Noct sweatdropped.

“What can I say, I just love Chocobo.” I giggled. “Then, our first ride will be that.” I pointed to the Chocobo Jet that was quite far from our meeting point.

“Figures you will ride that first.” Noctis chuckled.

“Let’s go!” I giggled excitedly. ‘Just for today. Let me spend a quality time with him. Yes…Just for today.’ The Chocobo Jet is really exciting. “I want to ride it again.” I said enthusiastically.

“Let’s ride the other attraction first. We’ll ride the roller coaster again later.” He sighed helplessly.

“It’s a promise, okay. I won’t go home if I don’t get to ride it again.” I stuck my pinky to him.

“Yes, yes. It’s a promise.” He hooked his pinky to mine. And then seamlessly warps his hand around mine and tugs me along.

I blink at the action. ‘Alert, alert. The parameter is rising.’ A slight blush adorns my cheeks. I quickly put a hand on my cheek to cool it down.

“What’s wrong?” He asked when he saw my weird action.

“Nothing!” I squeaked in high pitched voice.

He blinks, “You are so weird.” He laughed.

“I don’t want to hear that from you.” I stuck my togue out to him.

The next ride is Chocobo Cup. “Spin faster!” I laughed cheerily as I spun the cup faster.

“You’ll get dizzy later.” Noct smiled.

‘Hm…?’ from the corner of my eyes, I think I caught a glimpse of a familiar chocobo head. ‘Was I mistaken?’

“What’s wrong?” Ncoct asked when he realized I stopped spinning.

“Ah, nothing, I thought I saw Cloud.” I shook my head. “It must be my imagination. I mean this is Chocobo Land.” I laughed. All of the visitors are wearing Chocobo headband which we get as a free gift in the entrance.

“What do you want to do next?” He asked.

“Hm…Oh!” My eyes are drawn to the shooting range not far from us. More accurately, drawn to the prizes in that shooting range. “That! Let’s compete!” I turned to Noctis.

“Yes?”

“Let’s see who will get the grand prize first!” I exclaimed.

“Yo, ojou-chan, an-chan. The point for the grand prize is 150. The rule is easy. Your gun has 3 bullets. Knock down the plate with the point written on it. collect 150 points and you have the grand prize. Easy, right?” Baku explained.

“Yep!” I nodded.

“One game is 150 gil.” He smiled.

“Give us two guns.” Noct said as he handed him the money.

“Haiyo!” Baku handed us the bullet.

“The game is on!” I grinned.

~One Round Later~

“Not fair….” I sulked. In the end, Noctis wins with overwhelming victory. I don’t understand how he managed to get 200 points, while I couldn’t even get the 10 points plate down.

“Bwahahahaha! Ojou-chan, you are the best! Your skill is one in one hundred!” Baku laughed merrily.

“Sh-shut up!” I cried out.

“An-chan, your skill is amazing. Usually, the guests will spend more than 3 games to get a hang of this game.” He smirked.

“This is just a fluke. My friend happens to be good at this kind of game. I was only following his advice.” Noct answered.

“Heh. I want to meet this friend of yours.” Baku smirked.

“Next time, I guess.” Noct shrugged his shoulder.

“Bahahaha! I can’t wait!” Baku laughed harder.

While those two are chatting. I am already at my own land of misery. “I am sorry Chocobo. I can’t get you. I am sorry I am such a failure.” I murmured.

“So, what happen to Ojou-chan?” Baku sweatdropped.

“She just happened to love Chocobo a bit too much. Too much that I am jealous.”

“Bwahahaha! You win the game, but lost the war. I really pity you, An-chan” Baku patted his shoulders.

“Haahh…” He sighed. “[Name]. Here, this is yours.” Something is shoved to my face. It’s the grand prize of the shooting range, Golden Chocobo.

“For me?” I blinked.

“Of course.” He rolled his eyes. “If I don’t give it to you. You’ll keep staring at me as if you are having a grudge on me.” He smirked.

“I-I will not.” I flushed.

“Ojou-chan!” Baku called.

“Yes?”

“Here. A consolation prize.” Baku gave me two droppy chocobo hat. “Thanks to Ojou-chan, I have a great laugh today.” Baku grinned.

“Thank you!” I quickly put it on my head, while keeping the headband I got on my small backpack I brought. “Noct, you wear one too.” I gave the hat to him. The said man obediently bends down his body so I can put it on him. “We match!” I laughed happily, completely missing his softened look to me.

“Bahahaha! I pray for your success, an-chan.” Baku laughed.

“Thanks.” Noct replied. While I completely don’t understand what they were talking about. “Let’s go. We still have many attractions to ride.” He tugged my hand along.

“Yes!” ‘I think whether this is a dream or reality, this will be the happiest day of my live.’

Our next destination is, “Chocobo House!!!” I shrieked at the sight. I rush to the house, wanting to see it up close and personal.

“Hey! Don’t run!” I heard Noct’s warning.

“Don’t worry! I am not a child. I won’t fall down. Hurry up! Hurry up!” I urged him.

“We need to buy tickets first.” He sighed.

“Ah.” I blinked, completely forgotten that. Noct rolls his eyes as he pays for the tickets.

“Thank you for the purchase. Please enjoy the house.” The staff smiled.

Chocobo House, truly befitting the name. The house is basically Chocobo den. Look right, there will be a lot of Chocobo. Look left, there will be a lot of Chocobo. Look up, there will be a lot of Chocobo lantern. Look down, the tile is Chocobo pattern. And in the center if the house, there is the fat Chocobo.

“….Can I take that home?” I muttered out loud.

“Will it fit in your room?” Noct sweatdropped.

“I have an unused room. It will fit there. I can just move my Chocobo shrine there.” My eyes sparkled.

“Oi oi oi. Will they even let you buy it. Rather, even if they are willing to sell. Does your pocket money enough?” Noct sighed.

“Hmmm…. I should really get a part time job.” I muttered as I trying to calculate how much the Fat Chocobo will cost.

“Wait! Wait! They are selling the miniature version of Fat Chocobo. Let’s take a look.” Noct dragged me to the merchandise counter. In the end, I buy the Fat Chocobo plushie. More precisely, it was bought for me.

“I could buy it myself. You’ve paid for the rides and tickets. I can at least buy the merchandise myself.” I pouted and frowned as I hugged the plushie.

“It’s fine. I just want to. My father told me I need to spoil you to win your heart. He even willingly and happily to let me spend money to make you his daughter in law.” He muttered.

“Hm? What did you say?” I couldn’t hear the second part of his sentences.

“Nothing. Let’s ride that next.” He pointed to the Chocobo-go-round.

“Okay!” ~”~

“I am hungry~” I whined as I sat on the park bench.

“It’s already 1.00 p.m.” Noctis said as he looked at his watch. “The food court is over there.” Noctis said.

“Yosh! After lunch, we are going to continue.” I beamed, while my companion just shook his head at my antics. “Hey, don’t tell me you don’t enjoy it. Because we know it’s a lie.” I pointed my finger to him.

“I never said I didn’t.” He chuckled.

“Then all is well.” I grinned.

We are sitting in the food court, waiting for our order. The topic of our conversation is the hellish timing our friends have. “They are definitely…” I trailed off.

“…Doing this in purpose…” He finished.

“There’s no way they have this kind of convenient timing of not going. Well, in Zack’s case… he might be really grounded.” I giggled as we glanced secretly to the seats behind us.

“He-hey! Don’t be too noisy, they’ll find out.” A familiar voice of Tifa was heard.

“But, I can’t hear what are they talking about.” Yuffie whined.

“What a sloppy tailing.” I sniggered.

“They really… have too much free time.” Noct sighed.

“They seem don’t know that we’ve know they tailed us from the start.” I laughed merrily, really enjoying this charade. From the corner of my eyes, I can see now they are fighting for food, Zack and Cloud plus Yuffie. “Let’s caught them red handed later.” I laughed.

“Here are your orders.” A kind waitress set down our food.

“Thank you.” We thanked her.

“Please enjoy!” She smiled cheerily.

“Thanks for the food.” ~”~

“Noct. Let’s go over there.” I pointed to an ice-cream stall.

“Didn’t you just eat lunch?” He blinked.

“If it’s for ice cream, I am sure my stomach will make more room.” I answered.

“….What flavor?” He could only helplessly ask.

“Sea-salt ice cream!” I said excitedly.

“Wait here.” He told me and he is off to the stall.

“Ah, I want ice cream too.” I heard Yuffie whined.

“If we go now. We’ll be caught.” Stella reminded.

“But… ice cream…” I could already imagine her face looked like a kicked puppy.

“We need to endure.” Luna said sternly.

“Here.” Noct came back with an ice cream.

“Where is yours?” I blinked as I took the ice cream.

“I am good.” He said.

“Is that so?” I licked the ice. “Mmmnn… It’s delicious.” My eyes sparkled. “Here. Have a taste. It’s delicious. Delicious food should be shared to double the deliciousness.” I grinned.

“…Then, I’ll be happy to oblige.” He smiled softly as eat the ice from my hand.

“How is it? Isn’t it delicious?” I asked animatedly.

“Yeah. It’s delicious.” A ghost smile on his lips.

“See! I told you, you should buy one for yourself.” I said smugly. I quickly devour the ice cream until I realize what have I done. *Poof* ‘He ate mine…. Indirect kiss… No no no, let’s not think about it.… Okay, breathe in… breathe out… It’s okay. It’s just indirect kiss. No biggie….NO! it’s not okay for my heart! Does he even realized what he has done! I know I was the one offered it to him, but…’

“Why is your face red? Is it heatstroke?” He frowned.

“No! I am fine! Completely fine. It’s only a little bit too hot! It’s not a heatstroke!” The completely flustered me squeaked out. “Let’s go there!” I randomly pointed a ride and hurried there, missing the knowing smirk on his face.

The clock has shown 5.30 p.m. the only remaining ride is, “Hey, Noct. Let’s ride Chocobo Wheel.” I dragged him to the line. The said man allows me to drag him, he’s suprisingly obidient.

The Ferris Wheel stops when we are at the top. “When are we going to catch them red handed?” He smirked.

“You’ll see.” I grinned mischievously. “As expected from the highest point. I can see all of them park from here. It’s beautiful.” I was awed by the breathtaking view.

“Indeed…” What I didn’t know is, he wasn’t talking about the view.

The ride has ended. We are back on the land. “Ah! I have to call Squeon, first. I am worried about Rinoa.” I said out loud, letting our stalkers hear. “If he has something he needs, I can swing to the nearest drug store.” I fished out my phone from my bag. Can practically hear the nervous choked sounds from our stalkers. I push the speed dial button number 1. A familiar ringtone rings. My smile widens when I heard that.

“Hello!” I waved to them. We catch our stalkers red handed. “I thought you all have some kind of troubles.” I raised my brow.

“Ahahahha… We were just...uh…worried about you two. Yes, we were worried.” Zack laughed nervously, which then elbowed by Aerith for stuttering.

“So, did you guys get nice pictures? Because I am expecting it.” I snickered.

“I thought you were grounded, Zack.” Noct smirked.

“Hey, everyone! The photos are done. What are- “Yuffie stopped in mid sentence when she saw us. “Ahahahaha. Hello, [Name].” Yuffie greeted me.

“Geh! Noct!” Prompto gasped.

“Yuffie~, Prompto ~ What about those pictures in your hands?” I asked with a smile etched on my face.

“O-oh, th-this is..” She trailed off, senaking a glance on me, I still waiting her answer with a smile. “Eheheheh.... Okay, I give up. Here, all yours.” She gave us the photos they took. To put it simply, those are our candid photos. There are also the others but mostly about me and Noctis.

“Awww, this one is soo cute.” Tifa cooed. The pictures she chooses is the one when Noct was eating my ice cream. The angle is good. It’s just quite embarrassing.

“Heheh. Mine is this.” Luna chose the time when I put Chocobo hat on Noct.

“Oh. I like this one.” Stella picked our competition in shooting range.

“This one is good.” Aerith liked the one where I hug the huge Fat Chocobo in Chocobo House.

“Oookay. Let’s save this for later. For the last ride, we’ll go on Chocobo Jet. I will not allow any objection.” I exclaimed happily. For the last ride. We are fortunate the ride is enough for all of us.

“It was fun! It’s been a while I play this much.” I stretched.

“We should come here together again.” Rinoa smiled.

“Agreed! But no more stalking.” I laughed.

Time sure flies fast. It’s already one week before Christmas, we the girls are shopping for Christmas gift. ‘Sooo, what should I buy? Let’s just buy what they can use everyday.’ The other girls already busy choosing their own gifts. I am just strolling in the accesorries shop. After all of us finished, we head back to home. ~”~

It’s finally Christmas. The girls agreed to gather at Tifa’s house and give a make-over to each other, while I opted to not involved which is not an option. I am also dragged in to the whole fiasco. Exactly 7 p.m. We heard the knock, signaling the boy group has come.

“Merry Christmas.” Zack said excitedly.

“Merry Christmas.” We greeted. After we greeted each other, the party starts. I give them their respective gifts. Earrings for Tifa, bracelet for Yuffie, a necklace for Stella and Luna, a phone case for Vincent, a dress for Aerith, a google for Cloud, another dress for Rinoa and a for Zack, my self proclaimed brother, I gave him a pair of shoes. For my dearest cousin, it’s a leather jacket.

I am now down to the last person, but the said person isn’t in the room. The gift is still clutched in my hand. I see Tifa tilts her head to the yard, I nod and flash a grateful smile.

I found him gazing stars. “Not going to enter?” I asked.

Noctis glances at me and then back to the stars. “Too noisy.” Was his short answer. I laugh lightly at his short, but clear answer.

There is a comfortable silence between us, until I remember the reason I searched him. “Here.” I gave him the small blue box.

“For me?” I nodded at his question. Then he also pulls out something small from his pocket and gives it to me. I look at the gift curiously. I try to guess what’s in this little black box. Seeing the blatant curiosity on my face, Noctis chuckles. “Open it.” He said. With that said, I open the box excitedly. There, in the black box there is a ring necklace. My name is carved on the ring. My eyes widened and let out a small laugh. Noctis only stares at me with raised eyebrow.

“Open my gift.” I said still laughing. With a strange look he opens the box. His eyes also widen, there in the blue box I gave him, there’s also a same ring necklace. the only difference is the carved names. Then a small laugh also escapes from his lips.

“Will you allow me to escort you in the winter ball?” He asked.

This question caught me off guard. I never thought he will ask me let alone think about it. I look left, right and then behind me to see if someone is there. “…Are you practicing so you can ask Luna?” I blinked.

“Why are you bringing up Luna?” He frowned.

“Eh? Why? Because isn’t that so?” I was taken back.

“It’s not.” He sighed exasperated.

“Then… If you are fine with me. I’ll be happy to take on your offer.” I smiled. ~”~

The day before the ball. The girls agree to meet up again in Tifa’s house right after school. They are going to match the dress they’ve bought with their accessories. “Hm? [Name], where’s your dress?” Luna asked.

“Ah, I don’t have one I was sure I am going alone, so I didn’t buy dress. I am going to wear school uniform. The rule didn’t specifically say the dress code is an evening dress.” I smiled sheepishly.

“School…” (Stella)

“Uni…” (Aerith)

“…form” (Tifa)

“You said?!” (Luna)

“Huh? Isn’t Noctis escorting you?” Yuffie blinked.

“He did two days ago. It’s just, I don’t have time to pick up dress. So, I am going to wear school uniform.” I nodded.

“Change of plan.” Stella said seriously.

“Yes. We have a change of plan.” Luna agreed.

“Huh?” I blinked.

“We are going to shop for your dress right now.” Aerith smiled.

“Eh? Right now. We don’t have that much time…anymore.” I finished timidly, seeing their scary smiles.

“Sorry [Name}. Even I can’t help you.” Yuffie said. ~”~

At last, the most dreaded day that I wish never come is finally here. 28th December, that means the winter ball. ‘Why it has to be a ballroom, can we just change to more casual party?’ I groaned.

“[Name], you shouldn’t put that kind of face. You are the prince’s date, are you not?” Zack teased.

“The said prince has the same opinion as me.” I said unamused. The girls and the boys wear a matching color, including Noct and I. Apparently, Luna called Noct and asked, no demanded him to wear a cobalt blue suit, so he can match with my dress.

The hall is decorated just like a real ballroom. There are also snacks and drinks there. Once we enter the hall, Reno instantly flies to the other side of the hall sweet talking to a group of girls. The others asked their dates to dance with them. Being a gentleman he is, our favourite prince also asks me to dance. “I can’t dance.” I smiled wryly.

“Don’t worry. Just follow my lead. Waltz is an easy dance.” He said taking my hand. We dance peacefully until someone with the name of Tachibana Kirika ruins it.

“Noctis dear~” She called with such coquettish voice that it actually made me had a goosebumps. “I am sure I can be a better partner than this plain looking girl.” Tachibana-san winked at him.

“Sorry if I am plain looking. At least, you should learn how to wear a proper make up. The color doesn’t suit you.” I rolled my eyes.

“No, thank you.” He refused politely.

But that sets Tachibana-san in rage. “Exactly what did you see in this girl?” She screeched and pointed her finger to me. “I am prettier and a ton of guys asked me to be their date.” She yelled.

Noctis narrows his eyes. “Then, you can have them to accompany you. Listen, I am tired of your antics. Don’t you dare badmouth her! The next time you do so, I won’t forgive you!” Noctis snapped. Then, Noct storms out from the hall, leaving the said girl there standing dumbfounded and biting her fingernail.

‘Wow, this is the first time I see him angry.’ I too, quietly leaving the hall searching for my partner.

“So, you are here.” I said after I found him on the rooftop. He only stands there unmoving. “Still angry?” I asked.

“Not anymore.” He answered.

“I doubt she will stalk you after your outburst just now.” I laughed.

“She better be.” He let out a snort.

“Hey, Noct.”

“Hm?”

“What was the meaning of the word carved in the golden watch?” I asked as I took out the watch from my dress’ small pocket.

“Are you curious about that?” He asked.

“Very.” Was my answer.

“That is-” He walked closer to me without breaking the eye contact. He stands right in front of me, making me wait with bated breath. He bends down so his mouth right beside my ear, and whispers softly. “Eternal bond.” After saying that, he stood straight. A small smile on his lip, satisfied with my now blushing face.

“You-! Can just say it normally.” I glared at him. The futile glare only makes him smiles. He pulls me toward him. “Wha-” I blinked rapidly as he pressed his lips to mine.

‘Unable to process. [Name].exe crashed.’

I suddenly wake up from my nap and look at my surrounding. I am in my room, the same room before all of that happen, my workbook is still on my desk untouched. “I see, that was a dream after all.” I said disappointed. I blush again remembering the last part of the dream. “What an outrageous dream I had.” I sweatdropped. I put my finger on my lips as if I can still feel the warmth.

“[Name], you idiot. That was just a dream.” I scolded myself. “Rather than thinking about it, I should take a bath.” I mumbled walking to the bathroom. Unbeknown to me there are a ring necklace with my name and a golden watch with its lid opened on my desk.

“Our bond is eternal”

#noctis x reader #final fantasy #FF #fluff #ffxv #ff series #ff fic #noctis lucis caelum #noctis x oc

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wintervvidow · 3 years

Text

apricity pt. three

apricity - the warmth of the sun in winter

warnings: angst, vomit mention, violence

pairing: bucky barnes x female oc

word count: 4,200

A/N: this is a bit of a filler chapter yet still very important! I did have to use google translate for the Russian, so if it is incorrect, please let me know and I'm very sorry if it is! Thank you 💕

MASTERLIST

“Я готов отвечить.” ( Ready to comply.)

The December air was cold as it blew through Florence’s hair, her arms circling Bucky’s waist as they rode down the dark road on Bucky’s motorcycle. The soldier steered with one arm, free hand coming down to rub circles on the redhead’s calf as they pulled behind a cluster of trees, hiding them from onlookers as they waited. The pair of assassins were unthawed and reset only hours ago, immediately given their latest mission.

A car came into view, red tail lights illuminating the air around them. Bucky flipped the bike’s headlight on and pulled onto the road again. The soldier revved the bike, catching up to the side of the vehicle as Florence sunk her butterfly knife into the tire, causing the car to swerve off the road and crash into a building.

Bucky parked the bike ahead of the crash, Florence stepping off the bike, Bucky behind her, and approaching the car. She flipped open the trunk to reveal a large silver briefcase, opening it to see five bags of blue liquid; exactly what they were looking for.

This was the last mission the Winter Soldier and the Winter Widow would ever go on.

Florence bolted up in the cheap hotel bed, Bucky’s screams reverbing in her brain. HYDRA always made her watch when Bucky was reprogrammed, a way to keep Florence in line and remind her who she was; just a puppet.

The last mission was always a common nightmare in the rotation of dreams Florence had, continuously taunting her. She disappeared only two weeks after it, abandoning everything she had grown accustomed to and the only person she had ever loved.

Florence couldn't go back to sleep, instead deciding on making herself coffee, the microwave clock mocking her, 4:34 a.m. She sipped her coffee slowly at the small kitchenette table, patiently waiting to start her day as she watched the clock tick away until it became 6:30 a.m., a reasonable enough hour to be awake for Steve to not worry.

The team was in Lagos, following a lead on Brock Rumlow, who had been causing quite the headache in the past few months, this time his target was deadly weapons from the Institute For Infectious Diseases.

Florence and Natasha sat across from each other listening to Steve and Wanda Maximoff converse about their surroundings through their earpieces, doing their best to remain anonymous and still get the intel under the hot noon sun.

“You see that Range Rover halfway up the block?” Steve asked Wanda as she fiddled with the sugar packet in her hand.

“Yeah, the red one? It’s cute.”

“It’s also bulletproof, which means private security, which means more guns...which means more headaches for somebody. Probably us.” Florence smirked at Natasha’s response as she took a sip of her coffee, savoring the caffeine.

Wanda chirped back through her radio, ‘You guys know I can move things with my mind, right?”

Florence glanced at Wanda across the cafe, “Looking over your shoulder needs to become second nature.”

Sam’s voice floated through their earpieces from the rooftop above, “Anybody ever told you two you’re a little paranoid?”

The two redheads shared a knowing look with small smirks adorning their faces, “Not to either of our faces. Why? Did you hear something?” Florence’s tone was light, but both she and Natasha knew the darkness behind it; the Red Room made them that way.

Steve, ever the serious man, refocused the small group, “Eyes on target, folks. This is the best lead we’ve had on Rumlow in six months. I don’t want to lose him.”

Sam scoffed in the mic, “If he sees us coming, that won’t be a problem. He kind of hates us.”

There was a pause in time before Steve spoke, “Sam, see that garbage truck? Tag it.” Sam deployed Redwing, giving Sam and the team the information they needed, “That truck’s loaded for max weight. And the driver’s armed.”

Natasha glanced at Florence, the pair not too thrilled to be dealing with this particular situation, “It’s a battering ram.”

“Go now.”

Wanda questioned Steve into her mic, the tension had just risen significantly.

“He’s not hitting the police.”

The team scattered, Steve, Wanda, and Sam going after Rumlow while Florence and Natasha were both on motorcycles racing down the street.

“Rumlow has a biological weapon.”

Natasha revved her bike, “I’m on it.” The redhead purposely crashed her bike, flinging it into an armed guard. Florence ditched her bike, joining Natasha in the fight.

A guard swung at Florence, missing his target as she ducked and swept his feet from underneath the attacker. Natasha took down two more guards while Florence took down three more, tossing the last guard on the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Florence and Natasha were attacked by Rumlow, neither of the two women able to effectively take him down. The two were shoved into a tank, Rumlow dropping a bomb in before latching the door closed. They surveyed their surroundings quickly; two guards with guns aiming at them. Florence kicked one unconscious while Natasha grabbed the other guard and used him as a human shield when the grenade exploded, grabbing Florence on the way down.

Black smoke filled the air, the smell of fire making it hard to breathe, sending the pair of assassins into a coughing fit on the ground. Looking up, they could see Steve being blown back into the building by an explosion, their ears ringing from the volume. Steve sent Sam after Rumlow, who was in an AFV heading north.

Natasha relocated the ditched bike and got on, pulling Florence behind her. The younger assassin revved the bike as they entered the street, Florence holding onto her.

Sam called out the offenders, clocking four of them splitting up.

Natasha stopped the bike and looked at Florence before splitting up, “I got the two on the left, you take the right.”

Florence sprinted down the busy street, dodging and weaving the crowd. Her targets came into view ahead of her, the girl sent a throwing star their way, effectively knocking him to the ground with no way to run. The girl grabbed the man, searching the bag furiously, trying to locate the weapon, “It’s not here!” Sam replied back, not having the weapon either.

Natasha called over the mic, “I have it.” Florence sighed in relief, moving to meet back up with the team.

She came upon Steve, who had Rumlow on the ground in front of him. She approached the scene cautiously, listening to the exchange.

“You know, he knew you and that redhead, Florence. Your pal, your buddy, your Bucky.” Rumlow whispered tauntingly at Steve.

Florence approached from behind, grabbing Rumlow’s hair and yanking him back, putting a knife to his throat, “What did you say?” The flip switched in Florence’s brain at the mention of Bucky, nothing else mattering anymore. She didn’t care that people were probably filming her with a knife to someone’s throat, and Steve made no move to stop her.

The disfigured man laughed as the knife dug deeper against his neck, staring up at Florence, “He remembered you. I was there. He got all weepy about it. Always screaming about you.” He then looked at Steve, “Till they put his brain back in a blender. He wanted you to know something. He said to me, ‘Please tell Rogers. When you gotta go, you gotta go.’ And you’re coming with me.” Rumlow’s thumb pressed a detonation device, Florence and Steve noticing it at the same time.

Wanda was behind them, containing the explosion of fire with her powers, keeping Steve and Florence from becoming red mist. The newest member sent Rumlow up and into the building in front of them. The building went up in flames, the leftover gasses from Rumlow’s bombs reacting to the fire and exploding. The bystanders screamed and ran as Wanda looked on in horror at what she had just done, hand clamping over her face.

Florence gently guided the girl away from the scene, “Hey, come one. We have to go, this isn’t on you, okay?”

Behind them, Steve called for Sam to request Fire & Rescue before he took off to go save people from the building, leaving Florence to console the distraught brunette.

A month later, the team was back at the Avengers Compound, Florence sitting with Steve as they watched the news.

“Eleven Wakandans were among those killed during a confrontation between the Avengers and a group of mercenaries in Lagos, Nigeria last month. The traditionally reclusive Wakandans were on an outreach mission in Lagos, when the attack occurred.”

The TV switched to show King T’Chacka of Wakanda’s speech:

“Our people’s blood is spilled on foreign soil, not only because of the actions of criminals, ut by the indifference of those pledged to stop them. Victory at the expense of the innocent is no victory at all.”

Steve turned the TV off, the only other sound in the compound coming from Wanda’s TV in her room. Florence got up to go speak to the girl before Steve stopped her, “I’ll go.” Steve and Wanda were taking the Lagos incident the hardest, both blaming themselves. The mention of Bucky had made both Florence and Steve freeze until it was too late, leaving Wanda to deal with the bomb that now plagues her consciousness. Florence watched as Steve walked off until he wasn’t visible anymore for her to turn on her heel to head to the kitchen.

The redhead was in dire need of coffee, the cup she had that morning had worn off. The nightmares amplified after Rumlow’s supposed confession about Bucky, the girl had hardly slept more than two hours a night. When she did sleep it was restless, nightmares of Bucky haunting every corner of her mind. She managed to make it through half her mug before she was called downstairs for a meeting with Tony and the Secretary of State.

Secretary Ross sighed heavily as he stood at the head of the table of Avengers as he mimicked his golf swing, “Five years ago, I had a heart attack and dropped right in the middle of my backswing. Turned out it was the best round of my life because after 13 hours of surgery and a triple bypass, I found something 40 years in the Army had never taught me. Perspective. The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives, but while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some who would prefer the word ‘vigilantes’.”

Next to Florence, Natasha spoke with a smirk adorning her face, “What word would you use, Mr. Secretary?”

Secretary Ross looked up from the table, “How about ‘dangerous’? What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?”

Ross stepped aside from the table, allowing the full view to be on the screen in front of the table, showing various clips of incidents the Avengers were involved in. Everyone at the table grimaced at the screen, not proud of what it was showing. Ross flipped through events of New York, Washington D.C., Sokavia and Lagos before Steve had enough, noting Wanda’s demeanor change and telling Ross to turn it off.

“For the past four years, you’ve operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That’s an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.” Ross paused, placing a large file on the table in front of Wanda who passed it on to Rhodey, “The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries, it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they’ll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel only when and if that panel deems it necessary.”

Steve spoke from the end of the table, “The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place. I feel we’ve done that.”

Ross looked down at Steve, “Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now? If I misplaced a couple of 30 megaton nukes, you can bet there’d be consequences. Compromise. Reassurance. That’s how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground.”

Rhodey gestured to the accords “So, there are contingencies.”

Ross shrugged, “Three days from now, the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords. Talk it over.”

Ross began to leave until Natasha stopped him, “And if we come to a decision you don’t like?”

“Then you retire.” Ross left after that, leaving the team to discuss.

The team was arguing amongst themselves as Florence stared at the ceiling with her feet on the table, listening to various points being made while Rhodey and Sam debated behind Steve while Tony rolled his eyes.

“Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor, which is one more than you have.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest, “So let’s say we agree to this thing. How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?”

“117 countries want to sign this. 117, Sam, and you’re just like, ‘No, that’s cool. We got it.’”

Sam cut Rhodey off, “How long are you going to play both sides?”

Vision interrupted from his spot on the couch next to Wanda, “I have an equation.”

Sam moved to stand behind Florence, his voice dripping in sarcasm, “Oh, this will clear it up.”

Vision continued, “In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. During the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.”

“Are you saying it’s our fault?” Steve spoke with the Accords in hand.

“I’m saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invited challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict,” Vision paused, “breeds catastrophe. Oversight, oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”

Rhodey looked to Sam, “Boom.”

Natasha spoke from her spot at the table, “Tony, you are being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.” Tony rolled his eyes exaggeratedly.

“It’s because he’s already made up his mind.”

Tony grumbled at Steve’s statement, “Boy, you know me so well.” Tony rose from the couch, cradling his head as he walked over to the kitchen, “Actually, I’m nursing an electromagnetic headache. That’s what’s going on, Cap. It’s just pain. It’s discomfort.” Tony grabbed a coffee mug, looking into the sink, “Who’s putting coffee grounds in the disposal?”

Natasha looked at Florence with a knowing look about her coffee-sleep- problem while Tony continued complaining behind them, “Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?”

Tony placed his phone in the fruit basket, a small hologram emitting from it of a young man, “Oh, that’s Charles Spencer, by the way. He’s a great kid. Computer engineering degree, 3.6 GPA, had a floor-level gig at Intel planned for the fall. But first, he wanted to put a few miles on his soul, before he parked it behind a desk, See the world. Maybe be of service. Charlie didn’t want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale, which is what I would do. He didn’t go to Paris or Amsterdam, which sounds fun. He decided to spend his summer building sustainable housing for the poor. Guess where. Sokovia.” Tony paused, allowing the words to sink in painfully, “He wanted to make a difference, I suppose. We won’t know because we dropped a building on him while we were kicking ass. There’s no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I’m game. If we can’t accept limitations, if we’re boundary-less, we’re no better than the bad guys.”

Steve began speaking, “Tony, someone dies on your watch, you don’t give up.”

“Who said we’re giving up?”

“We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame.”

Rhodey speaks up, pointing at Steve, “I’m sorry, Steve. This is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we’re talking about. It’s not the World Security Council, it’s not S.H.I.E.L.D., it’s not HYDRA.”

Florence practically flinched at Rhodey’s mention of HYDRA as Steve cut him off, “No, but it’s run by people with agendas, and agendas change.”

Tony walked towards the group, “That’s good. That’s why I’m here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing.”

Steve interrupted, “Tony, you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose. What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there’s somewhere we need to go and they don’t let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own.” The team all shared looks, silently gauging their stances.

Tony looked down at Steve, “If we don’t do this now, it’s gonna be done to us later. That’s the fact. That won’t be pretty.”

Wanda, who had been silent the entire meeting, spoke from her seat next to Vision, “You’re saying they’ll come for me.”

Vision spoke beside her, “We would protect you.”

“Maybe Tony’s right,” All eyes darted to Natasha, “If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off-”

Sam cut her off, “Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?”

“I’m just reading the terrain. We have made some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back.” Florence was slightly shocked at Natasha’s statement. She had assumed that she wouldn’t be signing, not wanting to walk back into a potential puppet situation.

Tony leaned against his chair, looking at Natasha baffled, “Focus up. I’m sorry. Did I just mishear you or did you agree with me?”

Natasha shook her head, “I want to take it back now.”

“No, no, no, you can’t retract it. Thank you. Unprecedented. Okay. Case closed. I win.”

Florence noticed Steve’s phone buzzing, watching his face fall as he read the notification, “I have to go.” The team watched as Steve bolted out of the room.

Days later, Florence was seated between Steve and Sam as they attended Peggy Carter’s funeral in London. The girl was never close to Peggy in the ’40s, she only spoke to her briefly, but Florence knew Steve would need support. The trio watched from the pew as Sharon Carter, Peggy’s niece and an ex S.H.I.E.L.D agent, spoke about her aunt. Sharon had grown to be a friend and an ally to the team, helping them out during the Battle of Triskelion.

The funeral ended quickly, Florence standing outside with Sam while Steve remained in the chapel. A familiar redhead passed by, Florence grabbing Natasha’s arm gently, “Nat? What are you doing here?”

“I came to see Steve, then I’m off to Vienna to sign the Accords.”

Florence furrowed her brows, “You’re signing it? Who else signed?”

Natasha shrugged, “Yeah, it’s what seems right. Tony, Rhodey and Vision have signed. Clint says he’s retired and Wanda is TBD. You?”

“I can’t.” Florence wanted to but was immensely torn. She didn’t see a way to function properly under the Accords, and her best bet was to not sign, much to Natasha’s dismay. Florence remained paranoid after the Red Room and HYDRA, even more so than the redhead in front of her. She wanted it to be easy, to sign the Accords without any second thoughts, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

Natasha smiled softly at her friend, “I figured. But there’s room on the jet if you change your mind.”

“Thanks, Nat, but I’ll pass. Go see Steve.” The two girls hugged briefly, Natasha pulling away and entering the chapel.

Hours later, both Sam and Florence’s phone vibrated, alerting a notification, the pair taking out their devices and reading ‘UNITED NATIONS COMPLEX BOMBED’

The two looked up from their phones in fear, immediately on the hunt to find Steve.

They found him in the lobby of Sharon’s hotel, having walked her back after Natasha left hours ago. Sam stopped in front of him, “Steve, there’s something you need to see.”

The trio stood in front of the TV of their shared hotel room as the news anchor spoke, “A bomb hidden in news van ripped through the UN building in Vienna.”

Sharon paced behind them while she was on the phone.

“More than 70 people have been injured. At least 12 are dead, including Wakanda’s King T’Chaka. Officials have released a video of a suspect, who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. The infamous HYDRA agent linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations.”

The screen played a clip of the alleged suspect, Bucky, and Florence felt like she was going to be sick. Her stomach dropped and she could feel Sam’s gaze on her. It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t be him.

Sharon interrupted Steve and Florence’s internal spiral, “I have to go to work.”

Florence remained in front of the TV, trying to talk herself out of believing that Bucky would do this. He would have been acting alone. He wouldn’t have done this, this wasn’t the man she knew. She knew he was out of HYDRA’s clutches and was on his own, it couldn’t be him.

Steve grabbed her wrist gently, turning her away from the TV, “We have to go to Vienna, come on.”

Florence and Steve made it to Vienna along with Sam, both leaning against a tree with hats and sunglasses in an attempt to remain unknown. Steve pulled out his phone, dialing Natasha’s number. Florence ignored their conversation as she stared emotionless at the ground. The air was still heavy with smoke from the bombing as Steve spotted Natasha a few yards away, her ignorant to the fact that Steve and Florence were here.

After Steve hung up, Florence’s phone began to ring, Natasha’s contact lighting up the screen. She shared a look with Steve before answering, “Hey.”

Natasha wasted no time getting to the point, “Look, I know how much Barnes means to you, trust me I get it, but don’t do anything stupid. You need to stay home and regroup.”

Florence sighed into the phone, “Nat, you know I can’t do that.” Florence ended the call before Natasha could respond, quickly pocketing the phone in her black jacket and walking away.

Florence and Steve entered a restaurant, quickly spotting Sam at the bar.

Sam placed his food down, “She tell you to stay out of it?” Steve and Florence’s silence was answer enough for Sam, “Might have a point.”

Steve pursed his lips, “He’d do it for me.”

“1945, maybe.” Florence glared at Sam through her glasses as he continued speaking, “I just want to make sure we consider all our options. The people that shoot at you two usually end up shooting at me.”

Sam didn’t know him. Steve didn’t know the ‘new’ him. Out of the two, she had known Bucky the longest, loving him through the good and the bad. Even when he was the darkest parts of the Winter Soldier, Florence still held love for him in her heart because she knew what HYDRA made him into. And when Florence’s reflection was unfamiliar to herself, whether she was covered in someone else’s blood or she had been reprogrammed, Bucky kept her from falling apart in the Red Room. It couldn’t be him.

Sharon made her way up the bar, standing next to Steve as she updated the group, “Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everybody thinks the Winter Soldier goes to their gym. Most of its noise.” Sharon slid a file over to Steve, “Except for this. My boss expects a briefing, pretty much now, so that’s all the head start you’re gonna get.”

Florence thanked Sharon as she left to leave, “You’re all gonna have to hurry. We have orders to shoot on sight.” Again, the feeling of bile worked its way up Florence’s throat, forcing herself to choke it down. Her hands shook at her sides as she took in Sharon’s words. She wouldn’t let that happen, even if it ended up killing her. She was going to save him.

Steve read over the file quickly, Sam and Florence looking at him expectantly, ”He’s in Romania.”

The location shouldn’t have shocked Florence as much as it did. A lot happened in Romania between herself and Bucky, she shouldn’t be surprised he went there. He probably didn’t even realize why he went to Bucharest, the action must have felt familiar. She should have began their search there two years ago, Florence was angry with herself for missing such an important place to them both. And God, did Romania have painful roots in the soldiers’ and widows’ lives.

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sunshineseung · 3 years

Text

Little Secret Part 4 // Changbin

🍄 | genre: smut mini-series ☁️ | pairing: Seo Changbin x female!reader 🌿 | wc: 4.3k 🌸 | includes: Jisung x [man] just a little, yearning, teasing, making outtt, unprotected sex, hair pulling, slight size kink, slight possessiveness, no aftercare (yet)

“I’m going out!” Jisung slung his bag behind his back, heading towards the front door. You, sitting on the couch with your head in your phone, give him a quick mhm before he went on his way. You didn’t know where he was going, and frankly, you didn’t care. Jisung out of the house gave you the chance to invite Changbin over, assuming they weren’t hanging out.

You haven’t seen Changbin in two days, but the two of you have been texting nonstop, mostly at night when you were both tired and horny. Changbin hasn’t seen Jisung since he almost caught you, but they’ve been texting with Chan in their group chat. Unfortunately, that’s about it. Jisung was making his space away from Changbin.

Hey, wanna come over? My brother left

You wait a minute. Then a minute turns into 30, and 30 turns into 60. You start to regret sending the text considering he isn’t replying. You’ve given up hope before you hear your phone ring: It’s a call from Changbin.

“Hey!” You answer way too eagerly, probably freaking him out. “What’s up, Binnie?”

As much as he loves when you call him Binnie, now was not the time for his heart to flutter.

“Y/n, can I still come over?” You had no clue why he had to call you for that, but regardless, you obviously said yes. “We need to talk, for real this time.”

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

Jisung couldn’t look at you. He was repulsed by our actions to the point where he would cringe whenever he heard your voice, because he knew your mouth belonged to his best friend. He didn’t want to think about it, and he needed to get his mind off of it. Since he clearly couldn’t hang out with Changbin, he called his next best friend, Chan.

“Hey, Chan!” Jisung sounded happy though the phone, although he’d just been pounding his fists into his steering wheel out of anger moments ago. “Can we hang out in the studio? I need to let off some steam.”

It was about a month ago at a stupid house party. Chan was DJing while Jisung and Changbin were off partying, and he was doing a damn good job if he had to say so himself. Of course, just like every party, when the noise died down and people started to leave, Chan was dragged into a random drinking circle with several strangers, but most importantly, his best friend Jisung, although Chan would never call him that infront of him, because he knew Jisung and Changbin were closer than Chan and Jisung could ever be. Chan let the music run a random playlist of his while he sat, casually drinking and chatting before the game started.

Never Have I Ever: Ten fingers up, and if you’ve done it, put a finger down. Go around in a circle until someone, probably the most innocent out of the group, has won. It always goes wrong for Chan, though.

“Never have I ever…” a random girl looked around the circle, pausing to ponder what she’s never done, “had a crush on someone of the same sex.”

Most of the girls put a finger down, and the guys awkwardly looked back and forth until Chan slipped his pinky finger down. He couldn’t tell a lie, but he didn’t want to admit that he had conflicting feelings for other men, let alone his best friend.

The circle went quiet as they stared at Chan, eyes unmoving. In Chan’s head, it felt like the world was imploding around him and at any moment he could combust, but the game simply went on. No questions were asked, and they moved on. When it got around to Jisung, his galaxy brain sparked and he knew a way to get all the girls out with one hit.

“Never have I ever fucked a man.” A simple command, and all but one of the girls put down one of their fingers. Jisung didn’t know it, but he lit a fuse that led directly to Chan, and if he wasn’t careful, Chan was going to be set off.

Chan didn’t put a finger down for that, and he didn’t have to, but the idea of Chan being the man that got to make Jisung put his finger down was bubbling in his brain. It had been for months, but now that he heard the words come out of Jisung’s mouth, it felt real. It felt right there. At an arm’s reach, Chan could propose the idea to Jisung and end this party with a bang (quite literally.) Ever polite, Chan stayed quiet, remaining in his spot, letting the night go on without a hitch.

There was no way Jisung could know.

Being invited to the studio to be with Jisung was nothing new. They’d worked on tracks alone before, but Chan always had to leave early, his thoughts getting the best of him as he ran to his car to jerk off in an empty parking lot before driving home to go through the motions again. There was no chance of Chan getting together with Jisung.

“Sure! I’ll be down in a few.” Chan sighed, going to collect his things and head to the studio.

“It won’t be long! I just need to talk for a minute.”

Talk? Talk about what? Music? Friendship? Did another girl break his heart? Was he still going on about Changbin and his sister?

Chan had no idea. He just wanted to hear Jisung’s voice.

At the studio, Jisung got there before Chan. He sat patiently, hands folded in his lap, going over what he wanted to say. He had practiced his speech for Chan in his head, in the mirror, in his car, and even in his phone notes, but nothing could prepare him for actually facing Chan.

As if on cue, Chan walked in right as Jisung finished his mental monologue. A quick wave sufficed as a greeting, but before Chan could take his laptop out, Jisung told Chan to sit down and listen.

“This is going to sound crazy, but hear me out.” Jisung always sounded crazy, but Chan just nodded. “If you’re all caught up, you should know that Changbin is fucking my sister.” Again, a gentle nod. “Obviously, I don’t fucking like that, so I want to get back at him!”

“And what?” Chan laughs, rolling his eyes at the younger. “Fuck his sister?”

“No way! She’s way too out of my league.” He was only partially true. “I’m going to fuck the one person he cares about more than his family.”

“So, you’re gonna fuck yourself?” Chan was genuinely confused. He had no clue where Jisung was going with this insane plan, but as his brain slowly put the pieces together, his eyes got more wide. Jisung noticed his flushed expression and began to shake, scared of what was going on in Chan’s head.

“Chan, if it’s okay with yo-”

“Yes.” Chan placed both of his hands on Jisung’s knees, leaning forward to get closer to Jisung’s face. His features looked so detailed and pretty. They’ve never been this close before. Chan’s heart was beating out of his chest while Jisung’s heart was racing for another reason. Neither of them knew what to do.

“You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?” Jisung’s voice wavered as he asked the question. His eyes were glowing with the realization that Chan had some sort of sexual or romantic feeling for him. Chan cupped Jisung’s cheek, petting him before nodding in approval.

“What made you think of this plan?” Chan’s eyes left Jisung’s and wondered to his lips, cute and plump. Jisung had a slight pout, and it made Chan just that much harder.

“I…” Jisung trailed off, looking to a corner of the quiet studio. “I didn’t think much about it before, but to get back at Changbin, I want to fuck someone close to him, and you’re the only person I could think of.”

“I didn’t know you liked guys.” Chan admitted, leaning even closer and making Jisung sweat. He could feel Chan’s breath on his face, and just his presence was intoxicating.

“I didn’t know either,” Jisung paused, “but the more I thought about you…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself.” Chan’s hands crept up Jisung’s thighs, sliding up to his hips and pulling Jisung onto his lap. “Just let me make you feel good, baby boy.”

Whenever Jisung would describe his sex life, he was always on top: railing women and never looking back. He always depicted himself as being in control, but right now Jisung had no control. He was at the will of Christopher Bang, and Chan knew all too well what he wanted to do to the poor boy.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

Changbin yawned as he rounded the corner, heading towards the 3Racha studio where he assumed he would be alone. As he approached, he noticed the blinds on the door were down although they always left them up. That’s weird, he thought, taking hold of the door knob before being stopped by the lock.

There was a commotion inside. It sounded like scrambling, things hitting the ground and other things being swept up. He thought it was just Jisung throwing a tantrum and wrecking the place, which would be a little funny, but a minute passed before the door swung open, revealing a disheveled Chan welcoming him in and a lazed Jisung, sprawled out on the couch, equally disheveled and a little sleepy.

“What-” Changbin looked around the room. The desk with the expensive equipment was safe, but one of the swivel chairs was pushed over and the pillows from the couch were on the floor.

“Hey, Bin! We were just working on something!” Chan was glowing, a smile wide across his face. Looking at the black computer screen, Changbin inhaled the scent of the room.

“It smells like balls in here, what the fuck were you two doing?” Changbin takes a step in, not taking off his bag, because honestly, he wanted to leave.

“Working.” Jisung’s voice was hoarse, and he quickly coughed to reverse the effects of having a cock down his throat minutes before. “We were making a new track.”

“Oh, really?” Changbin rolls his eyes and looks at his phone. He hadn’t noticed before, but you texted him.

“What is it? A text from my sister?” Jisung began sulking, all the memories of the past couple days returning to his fuzzy post-sex brain.

Changbin stopped. He had never fully admitted his involvement with you to Jisung, and considering he totally just got railed by the only other person Changbin trusted, he thought this was the time.

“Yeah, actually.” Changbin smirked, raising his brows and Jisung. Chan’s jaw dropped as if he didn’t know what was going on. Jisung’s face went red with anger, and before he could stand up and yell up a storm, Changbin turned around to head out. “She said her brother isn’t home. I should go take advantage of that, right Jisung?”

“You fucker-”

“Oh, and your sister gives great head. Maybe it runs in the family.” Changbin shoots a look at Chan before slamming the door shut behind him and heading back to his car.

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

You sat in the living room, waiting to hear Changbin knocking at your front door. You were terrified that he was going to try to break your relationship like last time, but it seems like he was content judging from texts. Maybe he just wanted to talk, or maybe he wanted to break your heart. No matter what, you wanted him here.

Three knocks at the door startled you out of your daze. You welcomed Changbin inside and you sat on your couch with him. This was the first time Changbin was sitting with you instead of Jisung, and it felt strange and familiar at the same time. Changbin’s heart was racing, and you felt the awkward tension as Changbin looked around, refusing to look at you.

You placed your hand on his thigh, bringing his attention to you. “You said you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.” Changbin gulped, unsure of how to bring this up. “So, I told Jisung a few things, and he fully knows that we’ve been…”

“Oh?” You blush, afraid of what your brother was going to say to you and if he’d ever be able to look you in the eyes again. “Was he okay?”

“I didn’t give him much time to respond, but it looked like he was pretty pissed.” Changbin chuckles, and you do the same. A silence fell over the room as Changbin prepared what he was going to say next. He didn’t want to out his brother to his sister, especially if it was all a misunderstanding and Changbin just walked into the studio when it coincidentally smelled like balls. He just folded his hands and leaned back into the couch, resting the back of his head on the back. “What are we?”

His question hit you like a brick wall, because you didn’t have an answer. You’ve been an ace in all your classes and yet you couldn’t answer this simple question. You bit your bottom lip in concentration, replaying every conversation and moment you two had shared since the night Changbin so rudely barged in on your wanking session.

“Do you want to be anything more than fuck buddies?” Changbin reenters the silence with another headsplitting question. You’ve always wanted to be the girlfriend of Seo Changbin, but now you are clamming up. Did you want to be his girlfriend, or was it all fantasy?

“I want to be with you, Changbin.” Your eyes met each other’s for the first time, and it felt heavy, as if the air got thicker just by meeting the other’s gaze. “I don’t know if that means I want to be your girlfriend, but I just know I want to be with you.”

“Alright.” Changbin nodded, leaning closer to you. “Let’s forget labels for now.” He catches your lips in a kiss, holding your chin in one hand while your arms wrap around his neck, pulling your body towards his. He pulls away, breathless and calm. “I want to be with you, too.”

The next kiss is sweet enough to give you a cavity. It’s warm and inviting. No tongue, just lips on lips, appreciating the taste of the other.

Regardless of what your brother thought, you were content in staying with Changbin. No amount of family disapproval or shunning could stop you from being with Changbin. It was as if your world had begun to revolve around Changbin. He took real estate in your mind every day and night, consistently keeping you awake for hours on end from your heart beating too fast at the thought of seeing him again.

Changbin didn’t notice, but he had grown feelings for you. Before the first time you were together, you were nothing but a hot girl he thought about when he jerked off, but it quickly became more than that. He was infatuated with your existence. If you thought about him 24/7, he thought about you 25/8. He’s been with many girls before, but never one like you. No one made him feel like his world could fall apart at the removal of their presence like you. You were precious to Changbin, and he wanted to make you his and his alone.

You were sitting in his lap, legs spread around his hips and you grinded into each other, feeling each other up like it was the last time you were going to be together. His hands cupped your breasts, kneading you through your shirt and bra, while your hands rested on his thick arms, holding on like you were about to drown. Everything felt rushed while simultaneously being drawn out. You were both so desperate for the other that you didn’t even care about the clothes in your way.

No matter how much stamina Changbin had regularly, whenever he was with you, it always felt like he could pop at any moment and make a fool of himself. He loved your body so much, it was absurd. When your hands circled his nipples and gently pulled at the nubs, he felt his cock twitch in his pants.

“I need to be inside you right now, princess.” You loved when he called you that, and even more, you loved when he showed how needy he was for you. He stood up with you, kissing your face all over before meeting your lips in a deep kiss. You felt so overwhelmingly heated, and when Changbin’s bulge brushed against you, you couldn’t help but let out a choked moan into the kiss.

He pulls away and pulls your shirt over your head, throwing it somewhere behind him to bring attention to your chest. He’s quick to remove your bra and properly worship your tits like he’s been wanting to do. He kisses down from your lips to your chest, attaching his lips around one of your nipples, but not before leaving a bright red hickey to form on your neck. His tongue flicked against your sensitive nub while his free hand gently twisted your other. Your legs were getting weaker by the second, and you couldn’t help but have moans escape your lips. His hand that wasn’t playing with your tits snaked around your body, holding up you by the waist. Unfortunately, he didn’t want to be bent down forever.

He stood up, slightly towering over you. His hands snapped to your hips and pulled your pants down, exposing your pretty lace panties. Changbin licked his lips at the sight, taking it all in for a moment. You felt his eyes gracing over your body, and you shivered from the intense look in his eyes. You were already dripping wet from his touches, and Changbin could sense that you were as needy as he was.

“Let’s go up to your room, baby.” Changbin took your hand and turned around, heading towards the stairwell. “We don’t want your brother coming home and finding us here.”

You headed up to your room, not bothering to pick up your clothes from downstairs. It wasn’t until you were in your room, laid back under Changbin that you realized he was still entirely dressed while you were only in your underwear.

“Changbinnie,” he lifted his head from your neck, arching an eyebrow at you, “let me see your body. I want to see you.”

“Anything for my girl.”

My girl. Wow, you were his girl. His girl, all for him to use like a little cumrag. You were so high strung, and it felt like the only two people in the world were you and Changbin. He leans up, taking off his shirt and pulling down his pants, letting you see the impressive bulge in his boxers. You could practically feel his cock inside you just from seeing the outline. The whine you release is pathetic, and it makes Changbin laugh at your desperate state, but it also made him want you more.

He pressed his bulge against your cunt, dry humping you and feeling your wetness transfer to his boxers. You looked so hot while squirming under him. “Beg for it, baby. What do you want me to do?”

“Ch-Changbin,” you slurred your words, already going dumb from a few teasing touches. You felt so small under him. Not physically small, but mentally small. He could form a full sentence and you could hardly think straight. “Please fuck me, please~”

He pulled your panties down your legs, tossing them to the floor. His cock popped out of his boxers as he pulled them down, finally being free. He pressed his tip against your clit, circling it and feeling your hips jolt.

“More, Y/n. Beg more.” Changbin’s brain was starting to get fuzzy too. His tip was so angry and red. You whined at the friction of the tip of his cock going through your folds. You wanted him inside you so bad, but you couldn’t articulate any of your very few thoughts. All you could do was whine.

“P-please.” Your breathing was heavy. Without another word, you lifted your hips into his cock, hoping he understands your message, which he fully does, and as much as he wants to fuck you brainless, he also wants to hear you.

“Cmon, doll. You got this.” He holds your hips down and thrusts his cock through your folds without ever entering you. “Beg for my cock.”

You practically scream, “please fuck me, Changbin! I need your cock! I want to cum so bad for you, please.” You lose yourself at the end, unable to think any sort of coherent thought. Luckily, you didn’t need to speak anymore. Changbin was satisfied.

He lined up with your entrance and pushed in, going about half way before stopping and making sure you were okay. The stretch was painful again, but it felt so good. You loved being filled by his cock, especially since it dragged across your walls so perfectly. When he finally bottoms out, he waits for you to slightly return to your senses. Your breathing begins to even as you grow comfortable with Changbin inside you.

“Ready for me to move?” Your nodding is frantic, and your eagerness only eggs him on. He nearly pulls entirely out of you before pushing back in with one strong thrust, feeling somehow deeper than he was before. It felt like a new feeling. It felt different. He felt closer, warmer, better, but you couldn’t figure out why.

No condom. Changbin knew he didn’t put protection on, and he didn’t want to. He wanted to feel you around him. His stamina was good enough to make you cum plenty before he needed to pull out. He loved the way you felt with the condom on, and without, you felt a thousand times better. Fuck, maybe he wasn’t going to last as long as he thought.

His thrusts sped up, and he held himself closer inside you, hardly pulling out before plunging back in. The sound of skin slapping filled the room as Changbin leaned down to kiss you. Your tongues swirled together, and he ate up all your pretty moans of his name.

Your tight cunt hugged his shaft so well, and the way his tip prodded at your g-spot made your head spin. His lips on yours kept you grounded, you passionately kissing back regardless of your breathlessness. His hands cup your tits, playing with your nipples with his thumb and forefinger. Even though you hadn’t been together too long, he knew just how to make your body feel best. He was an expert at everything he did, and fucking you was no exception.

“Bin, ‘m close.” You spoke against his lips, him humming in response. His thrusts were rough, drilling you into the mattress. His groans sounded so hot, you never wanted them to end. He was right next to your ear, praising you and telling you how tight you were.

“Ah, turn over, princess.” Changbin pulled out and patted your thigh, promoting you to push your face into your pillows and put your ass up. The view was beautiful, but now was no time to admire your body. Changbin needed to be inside you again.

His abrupt re-entrance made you moan loudly while his cock stretched you again. His thrusts were even faster and deeper than before, and your orgasm soon returned to the edge. The bed was creaking loudly, and the headboard pounded into the wall.

In a flash, your head was pulled up by your hair. Changbin had your hair around his fist, pulling you violently out of the pillows and onto your hands. Your mouth hung open as he continued to violate your hole, brushing past your sensitive walls and pounding into your g-spot with every trust. His groans got louder and his pace began to fray.

“Cum on my cock, Y/n.” His voice was hoarse and demanding, as if he was about to bust inside you at any moment. “Let Binnie feel you cum, sweetheart.”

“Ah~ Bin!” You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, threatening to snap. Your mind was so foggy, and all you could think of was Changbin’s amazing cock and the way he was railing you so well. “Changbin, so good…”

“Yeah, baby?” He pursues you, egging you on to say more. “What’s good?”

“Your cock! Your cock is- ah!” You’re screaming at this point, begging that your orgasm washes over your fucked out body soon. Changbin pushes you back down into your pillow, muffling your moans until you can turn your head and breath again.

You bite down on your lip hard enough to bleed before your mouth goes agape, slurring every curse word you could think of as your orgasm hit you like a metal bat. Your cunt began convulsing, making it harder and harder for Changbin to keep from cumming inside your hot pussy. He looked down at where you two were connected and saw the abundance of your creamy release coat his cock thicker than before. Your hands squeezed the sheets as you began to become overstimulated, your body becoming sore fast.

“Changbin, it-” You’re still breathing heavily, thoughts slowly coming back to you. “It hurts.”

“Ah, princess,” Changbin pulls out, stroking himself intensely before cumming on your ass and your back. “Fuck, you felt too good.”

🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯

Jisung leads Chan into your house, holding his hand just to guide him upstairs. Before he can even put a foot on the bottom step, he sees your bra on the floor. He isn’t entirely sure that it’s yours, but he knows it can’t be anyone else’s. Chan’s ears perk up at the lewd sounds coming from upstairs, and Jisung soon notices too.

“We could go to my place-”

“No!” Jisung interrupts Chan just loud enough for it to be jarring. “They won’t mind a little more noise.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #changbin smut #seo changbin smut #skz changbin smut #stray kids changbin smut #kpop smut

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problematicfavesareproblematic · 3 years

Text

Into My Body, You Just Fold

Floyd Talbert x Reader

Warnings: FLUFF, optional!smut (poorly written dirty talk, lite name calling/degradation), OOC Tabbykins, mutual pining, drunken love confessions, Reader has an unfaithful husband (but OMC isn’t the worst), period-typical restrictions of women’s rights, not vv good writing tbh, and no-no words (per usual)

As terrible a person it made you to admit as much- you didn’t think you could imagine life without Floyd Talbert.

You’d promised yourself at a young age that you’d never be one of those women who needed a man to complete them, far too disenchanted by the sight of your friends losing their fire and spark upon marrying their husbands. Your father had raised you with the same permissive encouragement as he had your brothers, something that horrified your mother so much that she eventually stopped inviting you to her happy home with her new husband altogether.

Now that you were older you realized that marrying Frederick had been your desperate attempt to win back your mother’s love and approval, much more than your marriage had been for any sort of actual love towards your husband.

You’d tried, though.

Frederick was funny and charming and could get along with anyone. He was driven and supportive, and he always made sure that you knew how much you meant to him. You should’ve been able to love him easily and completely.

But you didn’t- You couldn’t when, more often than not, he came home smelling of liquor and another woman.

Sometimes several other women.

It became abundantly clear to you that, as much as you meant to him, you clearly weren’t enough to keep him from straying.

Which is why you found your love for someone like Floyd so….unexpected.

Upon first meeting him you’d hated him, obviously. He was just like Fred, no- he was worse than Fred because at least Frederick made some effort to hide his infidelities from the world.

If anything, Tab flaunted his conquests like a badge of honor. It made your skin crawl.

Not that your dislike for him did anything to deter him, of course.

On the contrary, he seemed to take it as a challenge.

It also didn’t seem to matter much that you were married. The ring you wore on the same chain as your dog tags seemed to deter any other potential suitors- and if for some reason that didn’t dissuade any overly-confident troopers, your marksmanship and reputation nipped any nonsense in the bud.

Not Floyd Talbert, though.

It didn’t matter where you two were- Tab made it his personal mission to win you over. He flirted with you on the boat ride to England, in the plane as it soared towards Normandy, in the middle of a gunfight on the way to Eindhoven. Hell, he’d even tried to charm you while recovering from a stab to his gut.

The boy was shameless.

If you had to narrow it down on a timeline, things had become more sincere and less childish in Eindhoven- when you’d gotten mobbed by a group of drunk and curious men who’d wanted to see more of the lone woman sniper of the 506th.

Floyd had appeared from nowhere and helped you wrestle your gun away from one of the idiots who’d attempted to divest you of it. He’d wasted no time in taking his own helmet from his head and placing it onto your own upon realizing that yours had been taken, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and guiding you from the throngs of people while you shook from leftover adrenaline.

He’d kissed you that day after he had been unable to get you to refocus on him and stop you from hyperventilating.

You’d stood stock still for a few seconds, mind scrambling to process the gentle feeling of his lips on yours as well as the fact that you were no longer tossing in the sea of people you’d been lost in moments ago.

When he’d pulled back, you could only gape at him like an idiot.

“W-why did you—?”

Floyd’s rough hands had come up to hold your face, taking a deep breath of his own before replying.

“I, uh…” he had stammered for a moment before shaking his head quickly and clearing his throat. “I was trying to get you to snap out of...just trying to get you back.”

After that, things had progressed pretty quickly.

He’d stopped seeking out any female company other than yours- not that you’d noticed at the time- spending the few nights of freedom he was afforded with you while you would ritually take apart and clean your rifle, talking with you about anything and everything. He had a knack for making you laugh harder than anyone ever had before.

Sometimes you’d talk about serious things, like your families or past loves or the foolish hopes you both had had before the war.

Every so often, he’d ask you about Frederick.

Thinking about Fred made you uncomfortable. Unhappy.

But because Floyd had been so honest with you, you tried to be honest with him as well.

No matter how innocently the questions began, they always ended with Floyd furrowing his brows and saying your name softly enough that you couldn’t help but hesitantly meet his imploring gaze. He’d always ask some variation of the same question:

“Why did you marry him?”

Most nights you didn’t answer. Some nights you were able to deflect the question well enough that eventually you both fell into a different conversation altogether. One night you’d been in a bad mood and snappily asked him an uncomfortable question of your own.

“Why do you have such a hard time keeping it in your pants whenever a pretty girl is around?”

That always shut him up. And, despite the fact that you could feel the upset rolling from Tab in waves, he never left.

That night, you had taken his fist between your hands and uncurled his fingers. You had felt his eyes on you as you purposefully dug your thumbs into his palm to ease the tension you found, eventually turning his hand over so you could carefully trace your fingertips over his war-calloused knuckles.

“That was unkind,” you had whispered, guilt churning your stomach when at the hurt you knew you had caused. His grey-blue eyes were curious as you hesitantly looked up at him, and once you had met his gaze you’d almost lost your train of thought. “I’m sorry, Tab.”

You hadn’t been expecting him to kiss you again, but even as he had you didn’t immediately stop him.

It was only when he had started to pull you closer that you quickly pulled away. Your breathing had become heavy, and while you didn’t let go of his hand you still said his name admonishingly under your breath.

“You shouldn’t do that,” you’d whispered, unable to look at him and electing to look at your feet as you brought your hand up to press your fingertips against your still-tingling lips. “You- you know I’m….you know why I can’t—”

“I know,” Floyd’s voice was low, and despite the fact that you weren’t looking at him you’d been able to see the grimace on his face. “I just….I know. I’m sorry, Y/N”

You’d cleared your throat, pulling your hand away from his and giving him a tight smile.

“No need to apologize. Let’s just forget about it, yeah?”

Without waiting for his response, you’d gone back to the table where you had been working on your gun, desperate for a distraction.

“So, uh, what was it that you were saying about your brother? He’s graduating high school soon?”

Despite Floyd’s willingness to play along, you had been unable to stop thinking about the feeling of his lips on yours. You wondered if this was what happened to Frederick- if this rush of adrenaline after doing something you shouldn’t was what he was chasing each time he went home with someone else.

You’d never known guilt could be so heady. In that moment, you’d started to realize just how dangerous this friendship with Tab could be.

But even then, you’d also had a sinking feeling that you weren’t going to be able to give him up, That you were no better than Frederick.

Taking your oiled rag back into your hands, you’d scrubbed the metal o-ring of your piston and tried not to think too hard about what this revelation said about you.

It had been during a 48-hour pass that he’d asked the question about Fred for the very last time, after you’d each finished a bottle of sweet French wine while sitting on the floor between two beds of the hotel room.

That night, you’d given him a sad smile and gestured half-heartedly with your canteen as you brought it to your lips.

“Because I thought it was what I was supposed to do. Because…. I didn't think I was allowed to say no.”

He’d stared at you sadly, clenching his jaw a few times before clearing his throat and letting his head loll back to rest against the side of the bed.

“Ask me again.”

You’d frowned at him, confused as to what he was asking you to say. Your silence must’ve given away your lack of understanding, because he laughed humorlessly before closing his eyes.

“

Ask me why I can’t keep it in my pants….'round pretty girls….”

“Oh-kay…?” you’d said slowly, leaning back and stretching your legs out in front of you. “Why can’t you keep it in your pants?”

With a bit more effort than it probably should’ve taken, Tab twisted his body so the back of his head was resting in your lap, the strands of his hair ticking the skin of your thighs where your sleep shorts had bunched up.

“Same fuckin’ reasons.”

In the dim light of the hotel room, you’d been the one to kiss him, your lips trembling with heartbreak on his behalf and complex (if not unbidden) emotion. Floyd sat up so you weren’t having to hunch your body over to reach him, carefully wrapping an arm around your waist as he shifted your bodies so neither of you had to strain to reach the other. Despite Floyd being Floyd- he didn’t kiss you greedily, the plush of his mouth soft as it followed your gentle rhythm without any sign of wanting more than you were willing to give.

Once he’d realized that you had begun to cry, Tab broke the kiss carefully, and he had reached a gentle hand up to brush your tears away, a sad smile crossing his face.

“Now, isn’t that a sight?” he’d whispered. “Never had a girl cry for me before. Don’t think I like it much…’specially when that girl’s you.”

He’d allowed you to cry for him, allowed you to cry for yourself and all of the hurt and pain you’d been holding inside of your chest for what felt like decades. You didn’t remember falling asleep, but when you had woken up the next morning you felt his fingers combing through your clean hair as you both lay sprawled out together on the floor. At some point, one or both of you had pulled the bedding from the bed’s mattresses and tangled yourselves in the soft fabric.

“Is it bad that I wish I’d met you first?” Floyd had asked, his voice a warm rumble as you rested your head on his chest.

“Yeah,” you’d admitted, scratching your nails lightly across his shirt-covered stomach. “But I’m much worse for agreeing with you.”

As he turned his body so he was leaning over you, his hand came up to rest on your collarbone while his eyes danced across your face.

“You’re beautiful….too beautiful to be ruined by someone like me, I think.”

You’d frowned, bringing one of your hands up to trace his mouth with your fingertips.

“Oh, Floyd- you can’t ruin what was already spoiled.”

Tab then lowered himself so his nose brushed against yours, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.

“Can’t I?”

Even thinking about it now broke your heart.

Now, nearly two years after the war had ended.

Now, living in the house you’d once shared with Frederick.

Now, as you lay in bed and watched Floyd brush his teeth in the bathroom of the home you shared.

Fred had last written to you five months ago, telling you that he was probably going to be in Japan for at least another six months before he could even apply to come back to the states.

Despite the fact that he claimed his senior ranking in the Navy and his responsibilities to oversee prisoner exchanges were the ‘sole reason for his prolonged absence, you knew that it was probably more a case of him not wanting to return to a life of expected monogamy that kept him away.

Not that you minded one bit.

Not when you had Floyd.

You hadn’t expected him to want to stay with you, in the literal sense or in the more metaphorical sense of commitment, yet he’d barely let you finish your offer before he agreed emphatically.

If you were truly being honest with yourself, you hadn’t imagined that he’d even want to stay after you’d slept with him the first time, shortly after returning to the states.

But he had. He had stayed.

You’re ripped from your thoughts when you realize that the sound of Floyd brushing his teeth has stopped, and when you shook yourself from your trance you realized that he had caught you staring at him. Judging by the smug look on his face, he’d finished getting ready for bed a while ago, and when you begin to blush he crosses his arms across his chest and leans against the doorframe.

“You know, ma’am,” he smirks as you clear your throat and pick at your nails embarrassedly. “It’s not wise to stare at a man like that unless you’re willing to face the consequences….”

You snort a laugh despite yourself, furrowing your brows and looking back to him with a dumb grin on your face. “Oh yeah? And what consequences would those be, Sir?”

His eyes darken with a flash, having made it very clear long ago how much he liked it when you called him that. You cannot help but smirk at his clear shift in arousal.

He pinches his bottom lip as he considers you- something that you couldn’t deny made your heart race with dark promise. Wetting your own lips, you lean back onto your elbows and watch him watch you.

Quirking his brow, he tilts his head and pushes himself from the doorframe to stalk to the foot of the bed and brace his arms against the mattress so he’s nearly leering at you.

“Oh Lovely, I think I’m gonna have to show rather than tell.”

~Smut interlude, doodiLEEdedoo~

You shook your head in amusement, a smile breaking across your lips as he crawled his way up your body- his softening hands smoothing your silky nightgown up your thighs and stomach as he did so. A low, pleased curse rumbled low in his throat at your lack of underwear, smiling against your skin as he ducked down to kiss your hips and soft stomach while completing his journey.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before I convinced you to stop wearing underwear to bed,” he says warmly, encouraging your thighs over his own while he kneels between your legs.

You can’t help but scoff at the wording of his observation.

“Yeah, if that’s what you’re calling ruining all of my expensive undergarments with your impatience, then yes Floyd, you’ve thoroughly convinced me to forgo underwear.”

With an easy familiarity, Tab slips his hands under your nightdress and ghosts his blunt fingernails over the swell of your breasts, smirking at the goosebumps his touch elicits across your bare skin.

You lift your shoulders off of the bed enough to bring the bunched-up nightdress up and over your head before tossing it somewhere on the floor beside you, allowing your eyes to drift shut as he bows his head to kiss at your nipples in near-reverence. His hands map the rest of your body in a cycle that only he can predict, the sound of his skin brushing against yours paired with the warmth of his palms and mouth relaxing you in a way that no hot bath or soft bed ever could.

Floyd groans as you rake your fingers through his hair, allowing you to guide his face up to yours for a slow, imploring kiss before one of his hands slips in between your legs and massages at the lips of your sex.

“Was I taking too long, Sweetheart?” he asks against your lips, his voice growing rough with need. “How long have you been this wet?”

You don’t answer, choosing rather to roll your hips into his touch. Your breath catches in your throat at the first swirl of his middle finger over your clit, something that he does again with a smug hum against your lips.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” he reassures you as he wets his cock with your arousal. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll make it all better.”

Whoever said that slow sex couldn’t also be filthy had clearly never met Floyd Talbert.

By the time he’s flipping you onto your stomach, you’ve been brought to the teetering precipice of release three times- his mouth and fingers and cock working you up while he kissed the sweetest admonishments into your skin. Tab called you needy, cockhungry, and wicked- all while kissing across your skin with such a sweet contrast to his words that it made your head spin.

When he finally, finally pulls your hips up and begins to piston into you, you’re already so delirious for him that you are pleading for him to let you cum- something that only serves to make him grip your hips harder and groan in anticipation.

“Dirty girl,” he grits out as he bends enough that his forehead can rest between your bunched shoulder blades, the line between admonishment and praise blurring headily as you feel that familiar flutter building in your lower belly. “Are you going to come for me? Can feel you shaking for me like a good little whore….”

You barely have to ask for more before he grips your sex possessively with one of his hands, your orgasm tearing through you and stealing your breath as well as your capabilities for speech.

Floyd, whose curse is drowned out by the rush of blood to your ears, follows you quickly over the edge- grinding out as much of his own release as he can in between your legs before collapsing atop you.

Almost as an afterthought, Tab slips himself from your body, rolling to lay beside you as you both come down from your highs.

“So good,” you’re barely aware of him panting out. “You’re so fucking good, Y/N….”

You blindly reach out to drape your arm across his waist, incapable of returning the praise just yet.

He knows, though. You know he does by the way he sighs happily beside you.

~End of smut interlude, doodiLEEdedoo~

“Y/N?”

You look down your body to where Floyd's head rests in the valley between your ribs, your fingers having been lazily combing through his overgrown hair for the past twenty minutes.

“Hm?” you reply, your other hand snapping out to grab one of the pillows near the top of the bed and folding it beneath your head so you can watch him.

Turning his head to press a kiss on your skin, he looks up at you lazily. When you smile down at him, he returns with a content grin of his own.

“Can I ask you something?”

Raising an eyebrow, you narrow your eyes teasingly. “I don’t know, Floyd….can you?”

You nearly shriek when his fingers dig into your sides, rolling your lips together in an attempt to quiet your laughter as Floyd bestows biting kisses up your sternum while you wriggle beneath him.

“You’re such a brat sometimes,” he grumbles as he takes your face in his hands, unable to keep the smirk from his lips. “Lucky for you that you’re a good lay….”

Rolling your eyes, you nod your chin at him.

“Just ask me already, you jerk.”

His wicked expression softens, eyes scanning your face as you look up at him. The beginnings of a knot start to twist in your stomach, feeling the first drops of anxiety begin to stain your blood.

“Floyd…..what’s wrong?” you ask, not liking the way he suddenly electing to look at your mouth rather than into your eyes. “Is everything—?”

“Would you ever marry me?”

Your eyes widen at that. That had certainly not been what you were expecting him to ask you.

Taking in a deep breath, you consider his words for a bit before answering immediately.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love him, because you did. No, what gave you pause was all that marrying him would entail- the greatest obstacle being that you were already married, and unless more things had changed in post-war America than you realized, polyandry was still illegal. Not to mention the fact that, upon marrying Fred, anything you had once been able to call your own was now- at least legally speaking- his.

You didn’t even have any right to the house you and Floyd had been living in. It, along with everything inside of it including you, was Frederick’s in both name and law.

And that was what scared you the most- the idea that, should you divorce Fred, you’d be penniless. Homeless. Destitute. You would have nothing.

But, as you looked into the blue eyes of the man you loved more than anything in this world, you realized that you wouldn’t mind any of that at all.

Because you’d have Floyd Talbert.

With a heavy sigh, you sit up so he doesn’t have to lean over you any more- taking his face in your hands and giving him a smile.

“I’d have nothing to offer you, you know.” You grin a little wider at the confusion on his face, brushing your fingertips over his bottom lip as you continued. “No savings or car or house for you to come home to at the end of a long day?”

As the wrinkle in his brow smooths, you know that he knows what you’re really asking him. Bringing his own hand up to mess with the ends of your loose hair, he pouts for a moment.

“Hmm, that’s a tough call, Y/N,” he says with a faux seriousness, tilting his head consideringly and narrowing his eyes at you. “I really like this bed frame—”

You nod, biting the insides of your cheeks to keep from laughing. “It’s a nice bed frame-”

“And the mattress? Best thing I’ve ever slept on.”

“I’m sure. All that built-in lumbar support cost a pretty penny, too.”

Smirking openly now, Tab brushes his nose against yours. “Still not the best thing in the house, though. I’ve gotta say, the pretty girl who lives in it takes the cake in that regard.”

Cupping your hands around the back of his neck, you pull him in for a deep kiss, the both of you almost clicking your teeth together several times because of the stupid smiles on your faces. When you pull back, you peck a quick kiss on the tip of his nose before sitting back enough to look him full in the face.

“If I could, I’d have married you already.”

The smile he gives you is nothing short of breathtaking.

“Yeah?” he presses, biting his bottom lip like an excited kid.

“Yeah, Floyd. I really would.”

“Good,” he says simply, carefully slipping from your grip enough to shift back down so he’s resting his head on your stomach. “Maybe I’ll ask you one of these days.”

Looking down at him fondly, you let yourself lay back so you can grin up at the ceiling.

“Who knows, Floyd Talbert,” you say quietly, heart feeling so full it could burst. “Maybe I’ll even say yes.”

“Good.” he grumbles.

“Good.” you agree.

~ ~ ~

(HELLO YIKES AND SORRY MY DUDES I’M PMSING AND DEEP IN MY FEELS BUT THANKS FOR SOLDIERING THROUGH THIS PILE OF YUCK!)

Taglist: @mrseasycompany @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite @happyveday @sunsetmando @ricksmorty @liebgotttme

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #floyd talbert x reader #floyd talbert imagines #problematicfavesareproblematic

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spencesglasses · 3 years

Text

sweet creature (spencer reid x f! reader) pt 3

a/n: no spence in this part, sorry to disappoint you simps. but uhh, y/n and jj rights! but as besties <3

tw! there are mentions of sexual assault and a minor character death! please be aware before reading!!

part one | part four

“St. Augustine, Florida,” Penelope starts, showcasing the most recent case. “Two bodies were found early this evening in a remote wooded area just west of the city. Neither have been identified yet.”

“This woman’s complexion…” Tara said, looking at the pictures of a woman with various injuries on her face.

Y/N looked at the board beside Penelope. “… she was exsanguinated.” she hissed.

“Correct, my dearest, which is a really fun word to say, but I didn’t know its terrible meaning until I started working here.”

“Odd that the only female had her blood removed,” Rossi said across the round table.

“Well, the male victim might have been collateral damage or a witness that needed to be silenced.” JJ added.

“I mean, it is the kind of message that would be sent to each other. The Curiel Syndicate recently set up shop in Florida,”

“Except it looks like these two were meant without anyone the wiser. How is that a message?” Asked Rossi.

“Well, cartels have also been known to use murder as a form of voodoo.” Derek pointed out. “In 1989, a University of Texas student was murdered by a satanic gang while on spring break.”

Y/N leaned further into the table, reviewing the photos they were given. “My guess is that this has nothing to do with drugs. Maybe someone with a blood fetish-”

“Vampirism?” JJ asked.

Y/N hums in response, glancing at her for a brief moment.

“It’s late and we need to hit the ground running. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch said as he closed the file he held, gathering any necessary belongings for the case.

Without another word, the team mirrored his actions and followed him out. This was one of the first few cases she has worked on with the team without Spencer. She didn’t mind it, of course. The team welcomed her with open arms and treated her as if she had always been there, which she appreciated. She had gotten used to everything that came with the job, and grew closer to the team, but she wouldn’t be lying if she said that some things she sees still make her skin crawl.

Y/N looked out the window of the jet, admiring the contrast of the dark, star filled sky beneath the white clouds. She was seated with JJ, Hotch, and Morgan at the small table, the rest of the team claiming their spot to the seats to their right.

“The coroner attributed the lacerations on the bodies to animal bites.” Morgan said. “Apparently there are a lot of raccoons in that area.”

Y/N felt JJ nudge her slightly and brought her attention back to the file on her lap, flipping through the photos. “The media’s going on about satanic mutilation.”

“It’s happened before. The West Memphis three case showed how animal activity on a corpse can be mistaken for a ritualized torture.” Hotch noted.

“After the first bite, the insect infestation expands and distorts the open wounds,” Said Rossi.

Y/N heard Garcia groan over the laptop speaker, seeing her face scrunch up in disgust on the screen. “Ok, here’s my finger, here’s the mute button. Are you guys done talking about the critter damage?”

JJ and Y/N shared a look, and she smiled. “You can put your finger down, Pen, we’re done,”

“Thank you, and Y/N’s right; local news and radio outlets are going wild with this being a blood-worshipping cult murder.” she continues typing. “Hey, new information. Both of those bodies have just been identified, Cheyenne Pravato, 23 and George Henning, 71.”

The team leaned forward to inspect the photos of the recent victims popping up on the screen.

“Any connection?” asked Hotch.

“My level-one search says no, my level 2 through 20 await. Cheyenne was a waitress that is currently unemployed. Henning was a retired steelworker from Pennsylvania, lived in Florida a few years. They both went missing 3 days ago.”

“3 days?” Tara questioned. “Coroner estimated the time of death as less than 24 hours from the time of discovery?”

“Preliminary indicators show no sign of torture or sexual assault,” JJ said.

Y/N’s eyebrows knit together in thought, trying to piece together the information. “What was he doing with them?”

The team brought their attention to Hotch, and he said, “Dave, you find out what you can about Cheyenne from friends and family. Morgan, you do the same thing for Henning. JJ, I need you to rein in the media. And, Lewis, Y/L, you two go to the M.E.. Hysteria’s growing and we need to contain it.”

“Still waiting on the full tox screen for the male victim,” said the medical examiner.

“We think they may have been held for up to two days.” Tara said. “Were they fed?”

“Stomach contents were empty, but nutrition and hydration levels were normal. My guess is they were both fed through an I.V.” he said, lifting the fabric that covered the body. “I did find one curiosity,”

He uncovered the victim's calf, showing a mark on the skin with red rings around it. Y/N furrowed her brows, her eyes scanning the injured spot. “It looks like an animal bite?”

“Not under magnification. It’s actually a surgically precise triangle,”

She saw Tara’s face harden in the corner of her eye; she turned to her and they shared a questioning look. They heard the telephone ring from across the room, and the medical examiner was quick to answer it. Tara lifted the fabric once more, bending down to look closer at the injury.

“You’re positive of that?” Y/N heard him ask over the phone. The medical examiner hung up the phone, turning on his heel to face the two women. “The tox screen and DNA tests on George Henning just came back. You ready for this? Most of the blood in his body isn’t his…”

Y/N tilted her head. “Then whose…”

“It’s Cheyenne’s…”

Her whole body tensed at his words, and Tara’s jaw dropped in shock.

Y/N tapped her pencil against the table as she read over the tox screening. “The blood drained from Cheyenne was put into George Henning?” Morgan questioned, gesturing to the document in her hand.

She slid the paper across the table for him to read. “It is strange, a triangle was cut into his calf muscle too,”

“And there’s still something in the toxicology screen that the M.E. can’t identify.” Hotch said.

“Yeah, we’re hoping to find something more in the next few hours,”

Morgan slid back the report to her. She heard footsteps coming closer to the room they occupied and turned to see JJ walking in. She greeted her with a small wave and smile, to which she returned. JJ leaned against Y/N’s chair, resting her hand on the back of it. “So, it took a little arm-wrestling,” she starts. “But the media finally saw the wisdom in toning down the whole demon worship angle,”

“Don’t take a victory lap just yet,” Rossi said, Y/N handing her the tox report.

“You’re kidding,” JJ huffed.

Tara picked up the photos from the M.E., flipping them over for JJ to see. “Y/L and I are just trying to work out this whole calf muscle business,”

“Triangles are big in illuminati symbolism.” Rossi recounted.

Morgan let out a sharp exhale. “This is just bending back toward cult behavior.”

“What did you find out about George Henning?” Hotch asked him.

“According to the neighbors, the guy was a shut-in. No friends, a lot of health problems — hypertension, parkinson’s,”

“Cheyenne was the opposite,” Rossi interjected. “Vegan, into new age lifestyles. Never met a harmonic convergence she didn't want to converge on.”

“Well, I mean, I get it with him; he was a recluse, but how did nobody notice her missing for 3 days?”

“Her friends said that Cheyenne was flighty. It was not unusual for her to take off without notice for a week or two.”

“Transfusions and sustained I.V. feeding takes skill, planning and access to materials, and as crude as it was, the replacing of old blood with new is dialysis.” Hotch said. “ What if the triangle isn’t a symbol, but a tissue sample? Could this be medical experimentation?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve got a youthful, healthy host in Cheyenne and a sick test subject in Henning,”

“If the new missing girl’s his next victim, the unsub could be getting ready to try again,” JJ said, clutching the back of Y/N’s chair.

Y/N gave her a look of confusion. “New missing girl?”

“A missing persons report came in earlier today, Andrea Gambrell,” JJ explained. “Her car was found abandoned at a cemetery near Jacksonville. Cheyenne and Andrea waitressed at the same restaurant.”

“If Andrea mirrors Cheyenne, then who mirrors George?” Y/N asked.

“I guess that’s what we have to figure out.”

Y/N stood with JJ and Hotch looking over photos they’ve gathered throughout the case, trying to come up with a conclusion. She tapped her foot anxiously against the tile beneath her feet, her brows furrowing as she looked closely at the photos. The sound of Hotch’s phone ringing startled her, making her jump. She let out a deep breath and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. JJ took notice of a very flustered looking Y/N and placed a hand on her shoulder gently. “You okay there?”

She gave her a half-hearted smile, moving past her to stand next to Hotch. “‘m fine.”

“What do you have, Garcia?” he asked.

He asked her to search for doctors or any medical professionals in the area, anyone that could pop up as a red flag, and of course, Garcia was quick to find just what they needed. “Nothing on my crimson flag doctor search, but I did learn about something with a super cool name,” she said through the speaker. “The mad scientist club,”

JJ took a step, now standing beside Y/N. “And what is that?’ she asked.

“They’re a student group from the Florida College of Medicine in Jacksonville. Before the disbanded, they used to get together and talk about experimental ways to cure disease.”

“Do you have any names of the people in the club?” Y/N questioned.

“Uh, kinda, sorta, not really. They were totally informal. Here’s the part that made me sit up straight. They used to meet at a local cemetery,”

JJ scoffed. “Let me guess, the same cemetery where Andrea Gambrell disappeared.”

“Yeah! The very one!”

“Alright,” Hotch started. “Keep working on the names and see if you can find out what the club disbanded.”

“Okay,” Garcia said before hanging up.

Before the three of them could say another word, Y/N's own phone started ringing. She reached into her back pocket and held the phone up to her ear. “Agent Y/L,”

“Yes, agent, I’ve got the full tox screen of George Henning,” he said, Y/N bringing her phone from her ear so she could put it on speaker. “There were massive levels of massive levodopa in his system.”

“The parkinson's drug?”

“Correct,”

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek. “But the blood was replaced with Cheyenne’s. Does that mean the levodopa was introduced into his system after the transfusion?”

“Yes, ma’am. We got the results of the other DNA samples and the surprises keep coming. Found traces of mesoglea and testudinata keratin,”

“That is…” she urges him to continue.

“Jellyfish and turtle. George Henning had animal DNA in his system.” He said.

Y/N scrunched her nose, looking up to see JJ with her mouth slightly agape and Hotch with a deep frown. Y/N quickly says ‘thank you’ before hanging up. But before she could turn her phone off, a quiet ding! went off notifying her about a new message.

“Guys,” she alerted. “Another body was found.”

“You two check that out, see what you can find. I’ll brief the team on the tox screening.”

Y/N and JJ walked in silence, their shoulders bumping as they made their way to the site where the latest victim was found. “Okay so, a homeless man found him,” Y/N breaks the silence, lifting the police tape for her and JJ to go under. The officer close by handed them both gloves to search the area and a bag of belongings found on the victim. “We I.D.’d him as Harold McDermott, longtime local resident.”

“He didn’t even bother hiding the body this time.” JJ said. “The unsub might be unraveling,”

“He must’ve been the new George Henning.” Y/N muttered, crouching down and her eyes scanning the injuries the man ensued. “I don’t even want to think about what might be swimming around in his bloodstream.”

JJ crouched down to her level. “No obvious tissue removal, bruising on his face and chest.” she looked at Y/N, then to the bag in her hand. “What’s in there?”

Y/N eyebrows rose, following JJ’s gaze to the items in the clear bag. She stood up, opened the bag and it was a wallet. With a medical card. Ah, of course we’d find something like this in here, she thought. “It’s a medical I.D. card” she said, pulling it out for JJ to see. “Our victim suffered from epilepsy and cortico-basal degeneration…”

They tore their eyes away from the card, glancing up to each other. “We better deliver the profile.”

It’s been a few hours since they’ve delivered the profile to local authorities, and since then, they’ve gotten more information to help them solve the case. The M.E. had found more animal DNA in George Hennings body: sea urchin and some other type of tropical parrot neither of them could identify.

Penelope was able to locate one of the former members of the Mad Scientist Club, Diane Haller, and she was able to go in to talk to Tara; finding out that there was a man that could be a potential lead. Robert, or Richard, Diane couldn’t remember his name, but the club called him the magic man. He only went to the gathering a few times, according to Diane, and while he was there he would go on about how they were in a ‘magical place’. He attended the Florida College of Medicine in Jacksonville while the club was still active, his interest being in neuroscience.

A local doctor went missing, Laura Braga. She was a neurologist, which they believed was a connection to the unsub. Dr. Braga was heading back to her office to get files she’d forgotten when she discovered that the unsub broke into her office trying to get extra levodopa.

“Garcia compiled a list of every medical student in the North Florida area with the first name of Richard or Robert, and I got to tell you guys, it’s a long list.” Tara said as she stood to the side of a board filled with photo evidence and a map of the area.

“So which one is our magic man?” JJ asked.

Y/N sat in the chair next to her, facing the board. She spun her chair around to face the other way and noticed a peculiar look on Rossi’s face. “What is it, Rossi?”

“They identified the bird DNA in Henning as coming from a scarlet macaw,”

“Mmhm. And?”

“That got me thinking about Turritopsis Dohrni,”

“Turri… what?’ Tara questioned him.

“It’s called the immortal jellyfish,” he explains. “Endlessly recycles its own cells through a process called transdifferentiation, a kind of lineage reprogramming.”

“Oh, my goodness. Dr. Spencer Reid, master of disguise.” JJ joked.

Y/N quirked an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth rising slightly. “If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve assumed that you were the resident genius, Rossi,”

He let out a soft chuckle. “No disguise. I called the kid last night.”

“Ahh,” Y/N and JJ said in unison.

“But think about it, jellyfish, turtle, sea urchin, and now a scarlet macaw. What do they all have in common?”

“A long lifespan.” Tara answered.

“Exactly, longer than a human’s.”

“So that means the unsub may not be focused on a specific disease but longevity,” Said JJ.

“Oh, God. Guys,” Tara gasped. “I think I know why the magic man thought this place was so magical,” She uses the file in her hand to point at the map. “We are right around the corner from the legendary Fountain of Youth.”

A local zoo reported a macaw stolen, the owner suspecting it to be a former employee, Robert Boles, who they’d believed to be the unsub. He went to medical school and flunked out in the middle of his first year. They found key information linking him to the case when Penelope found that he currently worked at the same hospital as Dr. Braga. The team rushed to the location where Boles did his experiments on his victims.

“All right, so, in high school Robert Boles got a summer job at a gift shop near the Fountain of Youth archaeological park.” JJ explained. “He got fired for breaking in after hours.”

Y/N and JJ sat in the back seat of the car, leaving Morgan and Hotch in the front. “That’s probably where his obsession with eternal youth started.”

They trudged through the hallways of the abandoned building with their guns pointed forward, ready to shoot if needed. “And I won’t let you get in the way!” they heard a man shout from one of the rooms.

The team followed the sound of the voice and turns the corner to see two men standing over a young woman. The younger man they’d identified as Robert Boles, and the young woman being Andrea Gambrell, Y/N assumed.

“Robert Boles, drop the weapon.” Hotch said sternly.

He whipped his head around to them.

“It’s over, man. You’re not getting out.” Morgan steps closer to him.

“Put the knife down, slowly.” JJ said.

Y/N watches as Boles lifts his arms in surrender, opening his hand to drop the knife. Morgan hurried to cuff him, while JJ rushed to untie Andrea strapped to the hospital bed.

“My wife needs help!” The other man, Ben Kebler, tells Hotch urgently.

“Where is she?”

“In the next room!” Mr. Kebler rushed out.

“Show me.” Hotch said, following him, and Y/N followed along. “Call an ambulance,” he tells her.

“Medics are on their way,” Y/N said softly, entering the room Hotch and JJ were in and she stood between them.

She looked down to see Eileen Kebler in the hospital bed, her husband leaning over her her. And her heart breaks. Eileen was dying.

“How is she?” Ben Kebler asked, eyes brimming with tears.

The three of them stayed silent, Y/N unable to comprehend what's happening, let alone come up with words to say in that moment. Hotch peers down at him, and Ben knows. He frantically shakes his head, hand shaking as he grabs his wife's hand. “What have I done?!”

“I’m cold,” Eileen mutters.

His face scrunched up. “Eileen, stay with me!” he pleads.

“I am always with you…” she whispers. “Always…”

And she was gone. Sobs echoed throughout the empty building, and Y/N could feel her heart bursting out of her chest. Her eyes watered with tears, then suddenly she felt a hand interlock with hers. It was JJ’s. She squeezes her hand gently, JJ rubbing soothing circles along her knuckles. She let out a soft exhale and used her free hand to wipe away any tears, trying to regain her composure. This part of the job was something she could never get used to. Something the rest of the team couldn’t get used to, no matter how long they’ve worked there.

It was safe to say that Y/N was not a night owl. The team were on their way home and she laid on the couch in the jet with a small pillow and blanket that could barely cover her. She smiled to herself as the memory of her finding Spencer snuggled with a far too small blanket the morning after their first movie night. She still cringes at the fact that she accidentally fell asleep barely into the first few movies, but smiles when she remembers what she woke up to. Y/N thought it was sweet that he stayed there with her, and finding Spencer curled up in a messy bundle of blankets made her heart grow twice its size. She took a mental note to call Spencer when they land, and she finally lets her eyes flutter shut, finally being able to rest.

tag list: @eevee0722 @ceeellewrites

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds imagines #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 2 months

Text

The Other Evans Girl [Part Twenty Five]

Fandom: Harry Potter [Marauder’s Era]

Pairing: Sirius Black x Original Female Character, Sirius Black x Daisy Evans, James Potter x Lily Evans

Word Count: 5787

Rating: Mature

If you want tagging let me know

LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST // LINK TO ALL PARTS

The group worked hard through the rest of the term. As October rolled into November they convened in the attic of Hogwarts at least once a week to practicing and learning as much as they could in the way of defensive magic. James and Sirius had even managed to talk some other Gryffindors into joining them and though the group wasn’t teeming with people, they had a good dozen or so which meant they could try out what they learned in even numbers. And as time went on they all seemed to find their niche. Whilst James and Sirius excelled in defensive spells, Remus and Lily took to counter curses and Daisy took quite well to healing and dealing with all the war wounds that came with each one because even if the spells they were learning were still low level being able to hide the evidence of them from McGonagall was crucial. And all of them had taken to teaching though admittedly Frank was her favourite teacher of the lot. He was really good and caring, taking the time to explain it to them where the boys tended to get a bit frustrated or make her giggle. He seemed to be especially adept at concealment and tracking charms though Daisy didn’t know what was his own research or if he was just what he’d learnt being a year above them.

And though Daisy had been enjoying herself with their meetings she still felt as if there was something wrong with Sirius. It wasn’t as bad as he had been before but there was definitely something. Sirius, on the other hand, hadn’t been enjoying himself. Sure, he liked doing the defence group and it made him feel better to think that he and his friends were prepared when it came to it but he was still in turmoil. His feelings had continued to plague him and given that he was now being watched knowingly by the boys and Marlene it was hard to ignore them. In fact, he’d been so wrapped up in his own angst he had barely noticed that James and Lily hardly fought anymore and were friends, in the loosest definition of the term.

Still even with his own problems he wasn’t immune to the infective air of the last week of term. Whilst most were looking forward to spending time with their families, others were looking forward to having a break from homework and nagging teachers. And though Sirius couldn’t go to his own home and never really bothered with homework when he was at school never mind out of it he didn’t care because was going to spend Christmas with his favourite people. The Potters had invited him to stay and the boys and Daisy were coming up after Christmas which meant they could spend time together outside of the school, to enjoy themselves. He just had to get through the last meeting of the group before Christmas.

It was Thursday night and the group was convened in the attic as usual. When Sirius arrived Frank was sitting with Alice by his side chatting to the other Gryffindors they had recruited from seventh year Terry Bones, Rudy Scrimgeour and his girlfriend Eleanor Vane. And though they had been welcomed additions to their little gang Sirius wasn’t in the mood to chat, not with relative strangers, and so he smiled politely at the foursome sitting on some pillows by the stacks of old desks, and then walked over to the table where everyone had been leaving their research and books and started to peruse it. Just as he started to scan over a piece of parchment that had Remus’ neat handwriting on it he felt someone beside him and turned to find Marlene stood next to him, smirking as she said, ‘find something interesting?’ ‘Just reading Remus’ latest find on counter curses,’ he said, glancing behind her when he saw she was alone, 'where’s the girls?’ ‘We’re not attached at the hip you know,’ Marlene said rolling her eyes, ‘besides I should ask you the same thing, don’t you usually have three smelly teenage boys hanging off you? Or are they not allowed near when you’re trying to schmooze Daisy.’ 'Har har,’ Sirius said, ‘I had an apparition lesson if you must know and besides I don’t schmooze anyone.’ ‘Oh sure you don’t,’ she chuckled. ‘Who’s Sirius schmoozing?’ James’ voice echoed behind them before his face slotted in the gap between their shoulders. 'No one,’ Sirius snapped as Remus and Peter appeared next to them. ‘Alright touchy,’ James said. ‘I’m not touchy,’ Sirius said defensively. ‘He wishes he could be touchy don’t ya Sirius,’ Marlene chuckled as she walked away from the boys towards the door where Lily and Daisy were now entering arms ladened with bundles of brown paper. Sensing food Peter followed towards the girls as did Alice and the rest of the gang but James and Remus held back, hemming Sirius in.

‘What was that about?’ James said. ‘Nothing,’ Sirius lied. ‘Pull the other one,’ Remus said, ‘are you two arguing again? I thought everything was cool between you and Marlene now.’ 'It is,’ Sirius said in hushed tones, 'she just…she likes winding me up.’ 'What would she be winding you, oh, about Daisy?’ James said a bit too loud earning a swift dig in the ribs from Sirius. 'What about me?’ came Daisy’s voice from behind the pair, causing the trio to spin around, guilt ridden faces meeting her quizzical one. As none of them spoke she raised an eyebrow and said, ‘what’s going on?’ 'Is that food? That’s what we were wondering have you brought food?’ James said quickly, gesturing to the bags and bundles Lily was now setting down on a table. 'Yeah we were just talking about the-’ Sirius said. ‘Packages,’ Remus finished. Daisy’s eyes narrowed, watching as they all stared back at her as innocently as possible. ‘Yeah just some bits,’ she said, allowing her suspicions to fade as she figured there was no point in pushing them given shifty behaviour was basically Sirius’ default setting recently. As they heaved a silent sigh of relief she continued, ‘we thought that we could put off the learning for tonight and just spend the night chilling, eating what have you.’ 'Sounds good,’ Remus smiled, shuffling over to where Lily was decanting packages and bundles onto the table which was now surrounded by everyone. Daisy went to follow but seeing James and Sirius hadn’t moved she hesitated. ‘Are you coming?’ Daisy asked, eyeing the pair of them though she couldn’t see James’ hand on Sirius back, clutching at his jumper and keeping him in place.

‘Yeah not be a minute,’ he nodded. Daisy eyed them one more time and then went to join the mob which was now eagerly raiding the sweets, drinks, puddings and crisps that the girls had got from the kitchens.

Once she was out of earshot James lessened his grip, allowing Sirius to turn and look at him incredulously though before he could say anything the dark-haired boy said, ‘you should just tell her mate.’ 'I already told you,’ Sirius said, ready to break into the speech he’d given himself a million times before though James cut him off. 'I know what you said but there’s gonna come a time when everyone is going to know you’re in love with her apart from Daisy,’ James reasoned, and before Sirius could retaliate he swanned off and joined the group.

✵✵✵

'Erm, truth,’ Alice giggled as she took another sip of butterbeer. The last meeting had been a success with all members enjoying chatting and munching their way through the snacks the girls had brought with them. And though the older students unfortunately had a mock NEWT the following morning, and had all retreated to revise, the party hadn’t stopped though without their supervision it had quickly descended into a game of truth or dare where the forfeit was taking a swig from the bottle of Firewhiskey James had snuck with him.

'Okay,’ Daisy said, 'have you ever…’ 'Skipped a class?’ Marlene finished. 'Oh, that’s not fair!’ Alice whined. 'Why?’ Peter asked. 'Because they know I have!' Alice giggled. 'Yeah but you don’t have to drink if you’re telling the truth,’ Remus said. 'True, true Moony,’ Daisy smirked.

‘But unless Alice wants to share what she was doing when she skipped class then she’ll have to sip sip!' Marlene chuckled. Remus handed the bottle to Alice who now had all eyes on her but she was only looking at Daisy and Marlene, scowling.

'Let’s just say Frank and I didn’t realise we were missing class…we just got…carried away,’ she sighed, sipping from the bottle, her nose wrinkling as the liquor hit her tongue. 'Go Frank,’ James said with a smirk. 'Oh don’t worry Al I’m sure Sirius has missed many a class eh?’ Lily teased. 'Many a time,’ Sirius said, his tone not exactly playful which caught Daisy’s attention straight away, that suspicious feeling returning. Lily however didn’t seem to notice, too busy taking the bottle from Alice’s hand as she said, ‘okay, my turn.’ 'Truth or dare?’ Remus asked. 'Dare,’ Lily said firmly.

‘Kiss Potter,’ Sirius said not a second after the words had left Lily’s lips. The room fell silent. 'What?’ James and Lily said simultaneously.

'I dare you to kiss James,’ Sirius said firmly. 'As if Lily would,’ Marlene baulked. 'Well she can always forfeit then,’ Sirius said with a sly smile. 'Sirius,’ Daisy said, hoping he’d look at her. He didn’t though, instead just staring between the pair of them expectantly. She didn’t know why he was doing it though she felt it was probably due to Lily’s teasing she didn’t know why. Just more of his ridiculous behaviour lately. Except this wasn’t just some little thing. Sirius knew just how much James liked Lily and to do this to him, to put him under pressure like that seemed mean. In fact looking at him now he seemed nervous, a shade of red she’d never seen as he stammered, ‘you don’t have to Lily. He’s being stupid.’ 'What so I can be called a wuss by your mates,’ Lily scoffed, 'no thank you.’ 'Wait does that mean-’ James’ words were cut off as Lily’s lips met his. In the blink of an eye she had pushed herself up off the floor and was across the circle, her lips colliding with his for a brief moment before she flopped back into her seat on the floor, everyone watching wide eyed. As everyone’s eyes followed her back to her seat, James seemed stuck, staring at the space she’d occupied in a trance.

‘That alright for you Sirius,’ Lily said smugly. 'Well done,’ Sirius said with a chuckle before he looked next to her and said, 'Dais you’re next.’ 'Never mind me,’ Daisy said, still as shocked as everyone as she gestured to James and said, 'Lil, I think you’ve killed him.' ‘He’s fine. You’re not getting out of a dare that easily,’ Lily said though Daisy couldn’t help but notice that her sister’s cheeks were a little more red than normal. 'Fine, I pick dare,’ Daisy said. 'Kiss Sirius,’ Marlene’s voice cut through the remaining giggles. Sirius looked towards Marlene, his grey eyes cold but his tone light as he joked, 'what James not good enough for Dais?' 'I’d rather take a bath in the lake,’ Daisy chuckled.

As she turned to face him the reality of the situation hit him like a freight train. It had been a joke, a tease from Marlene, and yet that didn’t stop Sirius’ heart from thudding in his chest as she leaned in. He didn’t move, allowing her to move closer to him as he watched her. Her blond hair was dishevelled around her face from where she had kept pushing it back the more tipsy she got and her green eyes were half-closed as she giggled before planting a soft kiss on his lips. As soon as it had come it was gone encouraging laughter and jeers from the group though it felt muffled to Sirius, the thudding in his heart deafening him as he clung to the warm feeling that spread through his chest.

After that the night continued in a sort of haze for Sirius, like he was there but not really, dipping in and out of the conversation well enough that no one seemed to notice that he was still thinking of the kiss. Of Daisy. James was right, if he kept on going the only person who wouldn’t know his feelings for Daisy would be Daisy herself. He had to tell her.

As the night came to an end they decided it was better for the group to split up on their way back to the dorms so they didn’t draw attention. Remus and Lily headed back first, given they had the alibi of prefect duties should they get caught, and the since the remaining group was too large not to cause suspicion they decided it would be best to split up.

‘So how are we doing this?’ Daisy asked, joining the huddle of boys who were scanning the map in front of them.

‘I don’t know,’ James shrugged, ‘one group take the map the others take the cloak.’

‘Sounds good,’ Daisy said, ‘me, Mar and Alice are probably better with the cloak. We’ll probably fit easier.’

‘Good point,’ Sirius nodded.

‘I’d rather use the map,’ Alice giggled, appearing from nowhere and attempting to snatch the parchment out of James’ hands though she was pulled back by Marlene. Apparently no one had noticed quite how hammered she was until she had stood up, swaying from side to side. ‘Hey,’ Marlene said as Alice tumbled backwards onto her after losing her balance from the tug, ‘I think one of the boys is better with the map eh?’ ‘From the looks of it one of the boys might have to carry her,’ Daisy said. ‘You say that like we’ve never had to carry you, Dais,’ James chuckled, ‘or are you forgetting us four hauling you up-’ ‘Yes, thank you, Potter,’ Daisy scowled making him grin. ‘I’m fine,’ Alice said in a singsong voice but as she pulled out of Marlene’s grasp she tumbled onto the floor before anyone could catch her. Marlene sighed and moved to help her up.

‘Alright new plan. Pete you take the map, me and Mar will carry Alice,’ James said, moving to help Marlene hoist Alice upright between them.

‘Okay but I don’t know how we’re going to get anywhere. Filch is patrolling the corridor between here and the common room,’ Peter said as he started reading the map. ‘Well then Sirius and I can take the cloak and head back the long way and see if we can cause a distraction to give you a chance okay?’ Daisy said earning a muttering of agreements and a cheer from Alice didn’t reassure anyone.

And though Sirius hadn’t agreed, his stomach flip flopping thinking about being alone with her post-kiss, he didn’t have time to disagree with her decree because she grabbed the cloak and tugged him towards the door, Marlene and James’ wry smiles following their path. She let him go as they reached the exit, allowing the pair of them to descend the stone staircase one by one but as they reached the bottom, where the stairs were concealed in an alcove by a statue, she swept the cloak over their heads. His tension returned in an instance even more so as she grabbed hold of his shirt sleeve to keep him near.

‘Can you see Filch?’ Daisy whispered as he leant out of the alcove, close enough he could feel her warm breath on his neck. ‘No,’ he mumbled, ‘he must be at the other end of the corridor. Come on.’

The two ducked out from behind the statue and found the corridor thankfully empty except for a pair of lamp-like eyes watching them. Mrs Norris didn’t make any noise but her eyes narrowed as she looked in their direction, her tail flicking up as she turned away and trotted back down the corridor, no doubt going to tell Filch there was something amiss. Once she was gone Daisy and Sirius tiptoed down the corridor which was now considerably darker than expected.

‘Can you see properly?’ Daisy whispered. ‘No,’ Sirius replied, ‘but we can’t draw attention just yet.’ ‘Right,’ Daisy said. Sirius felt her hand fumble down his arm until it slipped into his, ‘you lead.’ ‘Right,’ Sirius mumbled, thanking merlin that the darkness hid his smile as they crept to the end of the corridor and out into the staircases. Once they reached the staircase Sirius wrenched the cloak off them. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked whipping her head around to see if they were alone. ‘I figured it was best for us if we didn’t run up moving staircases with a trip hazard draped over our heads,’ he chuckled as he produced his wand from his pocket. Sirius walked up to the door they had just come out of and cracked it open a little. He couldn’t hear much but there was the distinct sound of Filch muttering to his cat. ‘Right from what I can tell he’s at the end of the corridor so…’ Sirius said. But he didn’t finish. Instead of explaining he flourished his wand causing sparks to fly out, grabbing Daisy by the hand and pulling her onto the staircase they needed, running up it full pelt as the entire chamber was alight with fireworks. As they reached the top of the staircase they darted forward through the door slamming it behind them and throwing on the cloak. The fireworks were dying down but they could hear Filch shouting for Peeves through the door and had to hide their laughter imagining how red his face would be at this late-night prank from his nemesis, the Hogwarts poltergeist. He just hoped the kerfuffle was enough to draw Filch away for enough time so that the others could get Alice to the dormitory.

So that they didn’t lure Filch back towards them Sirius and Daisy walked back to Gryffindor tower in silence, the only noise occurring when they muttered the password to a very confused and irritable Fat Lady, who seemed to have only just been disturbed, signalling the other’s had made it back, but swung open nevertheless. Fortunately their suspicions were confirmed as they found James waiting for them in the common room looking nervous though as they pulled off the cloak he heaved a sigh of relief.

‘Thank God,’ he said hugging the pair of them, ‘I don’t know what you did but Filch didn’t half take off in a run.’

‘Gave you enough time?’ Sirius asked pulling back.

‘Gave us plenty of time to get back,’ James said grinning as he added, ‘though Alice was sick in the corridor so I don’t think he’ll be too thrilled about that.’ ‘Is she okay?’ Daisy said with concern. ‘She’s fine. Lily came down and helped Mar get her up the stairs,’ he said, ‘but I think she must have had too much to drink too.’ ‘Lily?’ Daisy said perplexed. Her straight-laced sister would never get outlandishly drunk, especially not at school. ‘Yeah,’ James said bashfully, ‘because she actually thanked me.’ ‘Woah,’ Sirius teased, ‘did she smile at you too? Because I need to know how long the pining will go on for this time.’ ‘Oh shut up, besides you’re one to talk,’ James jibed at his mate, forgetting entirely that Daisy was standing there. ‘What?’ Daisy said looking between the pair of them. ‘Nothing,’ James said quickly as realisation dawned, immediately feigning a yawn after as he added, ‘I’m gonna head up. See ya later mate.’

‘Yeah see you,’ Sirius grumbled, watching as James fled up the staircase wishing he could follow just as quickly given that he could feel Daisy’s gaze land on him.

He didn’t look at her, instead busying himself with folding the cloak meticulously, but she didn’t stop staring. Had this been why he was acting so weird lately? He had a crush on someone. Daisy started to panic. Had Marlene spoken to him the way she had to her? Made it seem as though she was in love with him and because he was in love with someone else he hadn’t wanted to make her feel bad? Not that it would matter anyway because she wasn’t in love with him. Well, she didn’t want to think she was. Of course she liked Sirius…a lot but they couldn’t be together, right?

‘What was James on about?’ Daisy said, unable to stop herself from questioning him. Sirius looked up from the cloak, his grey eyes meeting her green ones. He could tell her. Here and now just get it over with. ‘Just… this girl I fancy,’ Sirius started begging his confidence to withhold. ‘Oh,’ Daisy said, trying to sound casual though her stomach suddenly felt lead lined. ‘Yeah, I must have talked about her a little too much,’ Sirius said, that wasn’t technically a lie. ‘Do I know her?’ Daisy said dropping her gaze. Sirius watched as her fingers fiddled with the loop in her jeans. ‘She’s…James neighbour,’ Sirius said cursing himself as the lies came tumbling from his mouth, ‘yeah you don’t know her but she’s nice, amazing in fact.’ ‘Yeah?’ Daisy said looking at him. ‘Yeah, she’s really pretty too, caring and kind, and she’s funny as anything,’ Sirius said unable to stop rambling. ‘I’m sure she is,’ Daisy said quietly, ‘I guess I’ll get to meet her at New Year’s huh?’ ‘Yeah,’ he said as she started walking away from him. He wanted to grab her. He wanted to tell her that the girl was her, that he thought all of those things about her. But he didn’t, he didn’t move, or speak. As she reached the staircase she turned and looked at him.

‘Night then,’ she smiled somewhat sadly. ‘Night,’ Sirius said. ‘Pads?’ ‘Yeah?’ ‘You should tell her…James’ neighbour. She’d be lucky to have you,’ Daisy said and before he could say anything else she disappeared up the staircase where he couldn’t follow. Sirius fell back against the couch allowing his body to flop over the height of the couch and onto the comfy cushions below. ‘You fucking moron,’ he sighed.

✵✵✵

A couple of days after the last defence club meeting the end of term came and Daisy wasn’t prepared. Having been so busy with classes and the club she had barely had enough time to get everyone a Christmas present let alone sort out an outfit and travel for the New Year’s Eve party though admittedly she hadn’t put much thought into it until Sirius had dropped the bombshell on her that there was another girl in his life. She didn’t know why she cared. She had said to herself that nothing could happen between them but that didn’t mean she hadn’t scoured the Madam Malkins catalogue looking for a new dress the morning after he had told her. Even if they weren’t meant to be she was sure as hell going to look better than her. The morning they were supposed to leave for home Daisy was sitting in her dorm room looking at her belongings sprawled out along the floor and wondering what to pack when Lily came in.

‘Are you not packed yet?’ Lily gasped, ‘the train leaves at midday!’ ‘Yes, thanks for that Lil,’ Dais grumbled. ‘You’re not still fretting about what to wear to that New Year’s Eve party are you?’ she said as she sat down on her bed, beside her own neatly packed suitcase. ‘I couldn’t find anything to buy so I’m assessing my clothes,’ she said. ‘Why? It’s you and the lads you said right?’ Lily said, ‘I thought they didn’t care what you looked like.’ ‘They don’t,’ Daisy said defensively, ‘but it’s a party. I don’t want to go looking like a troll in an ill-fitting robe. There are important people there.’ ‘Like who James Potter,’ Lily chuckled mockingly though Daisy didn’t miss the fact that at the mention of his name Lily’s hand instinctively went to twirling a strand of hair, something she did when she was nervous. ‘Like ministry officials. And besides Mr and Mrs Potter are lovely I don’t want to show them up,’ she said. ‘Right, in that case you should wear this,’ Lily said holding up a dress Daisy hadn’t worn in years. One she loved but she had always felt too self-conscious to wear. ‘Lil,’ Daisy said uneasily. ‘You’ll look amazing,’ Lily said and before Daisy could contest she was packing it in her suitcase which then ended up with her packing everything, not that Daisy minded. As her sister tucked everything neatly into place, she lay on the bed watching her, her mind on Sirius and the new girl in his life. In fact she spent so much time lost in her thoughts it was quickly time to leave and she and Lily made their way downstairs to find Marlene and Alice waiting for them in the common room. Daisy’s eyes scanned around but she couldn’t see the boys and so she left with the girls and made her way down to Hogsmeade. She didn’t see the boys at any point in the journey but as they got to the station Daisy spotted a gang of familiar heads a way up the platform. She didn’t know whether to head towards them or stay put, given that since Sirius had told her all about his new muse all she seemed to feel a pang in her chest every time she looked at him.

‘You don’t have to sit with us you know,’ Alice said following Daisy’s eye line. ‘But,’ Daisy said, not wanting explain her apprehensions to join them. ‘But? Don’t worry about us,’ Alice said, ‘besides I’m sure Mar and I can keep ourselves busy whilst Lily crams in as much studying as possible before we get to Kings Cross.’ ‘I’m going to see them over break,’ Daisy reasoned. ‘And you sleep in the same room as us all year,’ Alice said touching her arm, ‘don’t worry we’re not going to break because you’d rather be with your other friends besides we don’t want to sit in a carriage with four loud teenage boys anyway.’

‘Okay, see you later,’ Daisy said, leaning into hug her friend. Alice hugged her back and Marlene mumbled a ‘Merry Christmas’ before headed toward the boys. As she got close to them her heart started fluttering much to her annoyance. James and Sirius were throwing something between them, out of Peter’s reach, whilst Remus stood beside them shaking his head. Not being truly part of whatever they were doing he was the first to notice her approach and said, ‘hey Dais.’

‘Hi Rem,’ Daisy said with a smile. As her voice floated through the sky Sirius whipped around to look at her which earned him a clunk to the back of the head as whatever James had thrown hadn’t been caught. Peter scurried forward and grabbed the object from the ground, cramming it in his pocket as quickly as possible. Sirius didn’t seem to mind the clunk as he smiled at Daisy and said, ‘hey.’ ‘Mind if I sit with you for the ride?’ Daisy said feeling her heartbeat in her ears. ‘Of course, you can,’ James said coming to stand next to his best mate and throwing an arm over his shoulders. ‘Come on,’ Peter said irritably, ‘we’ll not be sitting anywhere if we don’t hurry up.’ And without waiting for them, which was unusual for Peter, he strode off towards the open carriage door. Daisy quirked an eyebrow as they gathered their things and followed where he’d gone. ‘What’s the matter with him?’ Daisy muttered to Sirius as they walked towards the train. ‘He made the mistake of trying to hide the Christmas present Fiona Swett got him.’ ‘I take it that was what you were chucking about,’ she smiled wryly. ‘Of course,’ Sirius chuckled.

When they climbed aboard they found Peter, still with a scowl on his face, now in a cabin. He didn’t even say anything as they all got settled, stowing their belongings in the overhead lockers for the long ride back to London but fortunately, as they crossed the border into England, he started to mellow. A fact Daisy suspected had more to do with the sweet trolley coming around and the fact she had suggested swapping presents now than his love for his country. By the time they were near the lake district Daisy had four neatly wrapped parcels that she tucked away in her backpack, ready for Christmas morning, and they were onto discussing their Christmas day plans and how all of them were coming to Potter’s for New Year.

After a few hours the sky started getting inkier though the compartment was lit by the low carriage lights and the streetlights which were becoming more and more frequent as they neared London. Eventually they were pulling into platform nine and three quarters which soon descended into pandemonium as everyone decanted off the train, laden with luggage. Whilst Peter hurried ahead waving goodbye to the group quickly as he scuttled off to the barrier in order to make his connecting train Daisy took root on the platform, scanning the sea of people for her sister. Fortunately, Sirius appeared next to her a second later and since he was quite a bit taller than her was able to spot the redhead a little way down the platform.

‘Lil!’ Daisy shouted, causing her sister to look in their direction and hurry quickly towards the group, which was now full, the other boys looking for their families. Given that Remus’ father was practically his twin he wasn’t difficult to spot, looming over the milling school children on the platform, and so after a hurried ‘Merry Christmas’ the boy took off towards him. James however didn’t have the luxury of scurrying off, unnoticed by his fellow classmates because just as Remus disappear into the crowd Fleamont appeared from it, his loud charismatic voice causing heads to turn as he neared them and said, ‘boys there you are!’

‘Dad,’ James said, gritting his teeth as his father appeared, making his friend’s chuckle.

‘Oh and dear Daisy too!’ Fleamont continued as if he hadn’t spoke, ‘and, I’m sorry who are you?’ ‘This is Lily, Mr Potter…my sister,’ Daisy said. ‘Monty, please,’ he smiled, looking at Lily who smiled politely, ‘nice to finally meet you m’dear. Of course we’ve heard a lot about you.’ ‘Where’s mum?’ James said speaking over his father. Sirius and Daisy shared a look and a smirk as they watched James’ face turn beetroot red. ‘Oh, you know your mother she’s in a tizzy about Christmas day. She’s in Diagon alley right now doing some last-minute shopping so I said I’d collect you boys and take you home,’ he smiled seemingly not noticing his son’s obvious embarrassment, ‘I take it you’re all set for the big day girls?’ ‘Just about,’ Lily said politely. Daisy noticed a slight pink tinge across her cheeks evidently she and Sirius weren’t the only ones who noticed Fleamont’s remark.

‘Dad,’ James said, tugging on his father’s sleeve, finally making him realise he was there. ‘It seems silly all for one day doesn’t it. Though I dare say it’s nice to have everyone together celebrating,’ Fleamont said, ‘I bet your parents are happy to have you two home. Are they here yet?’ ‘They’ll be through the barrier,’ Daisy said. ‘Ah, muggles?’ Fleamont said excitedly, ‘how fascinating! I’d love to speak to them; I never get much of a chance to meet non-magical folk. Perhaps they could come to our New Year’s Eve party! Oh yes what a good idea! You must invite them! The more the merrier after all!’

‘They’re probably busy,’ James said through gritted teeth, ‘and they’re probably wanting Daisy and Lily to hurry up.’ ‘Don’t be so rude James,’ Fleamont said, ‘besides you should be offering to walk these lovely ladies through. And here I am thinking I have taught you manners.’ ‘Don’t worry Mr Potter. James is quite well mannered,’ Lily said, her words slipping out without warning causing James, Sirius and Daisy to gawk at her. Had she actually just complimented him? In front of witnesses. Before anyone could say anything Lily mumbled a goodbye and grabbed her suitcase and her sister by the arm simultaneously. Daisy barely had a chance to shout ‘see you after Christmas’ to the boys before she was tossed through the barrier and into the muggle world.

‘Bloody hell Lil,’ Daisy said as she straightened out her jacket sleeve which was now crumpled from her older sister’s grasp. ‘What?’ Lily said snappily. ‘I mean it’s not my fault you said something nice about James. There’s no need to wrench my arm out its socket,’ Daisy grumbled, moving out of the way of other people coming through. ‘I didn’t do it because of that,’ Lily said earning a raised eyebrow from her twin, ‘okay maybe I did.’ ‘You’re allowed to be his friend you know,’ Daisy chuckled. ‘I know it’s just I don’t know if I want to be his friend or more than that,’ she sighed. ‘Lilian Jade Evans are you telling me you have feelings for James Potter?’ her sister said agog. ‘Maybe,’ the redhead said as they weaved through people on the platform looking for their parents. Daisy thought about it for a moment. Sure she’d told James she’d try and help Lily see that he wasn’t such a bad guy, she had just thought it would take a few years or a miracle to help bring her around to that fact. Now it was here though she couldn’t say she was disappointed; in fact she was happy for them.

‘Well could do worse you know,’ Daisy said. ‘Yeah you’re right I could be in love with Sirius,’ Lily teased, watching as her sister’s jaw dropped.

‘You don’t mean,’ Daisy said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. ‘Of course, I bloody do!’ Lily said rolling her eyes.

‘I’m not in love with him,’ Daisy protested though much like her sister had Lily raised an eyebrow, ‘okay so I like him…really like him.’

‘I’m only teasing you,’ Lily said, slipping her arm into her sister’s so they could carry on walking, ‘I actually think the two of you would be good together.’ ‘Shame that’ll never happen,’ Daisy said morosely. ‘I wouldn’t be so sure you know,’ Lily said honestly, smiling at her sister who looked up at her curiously. Unfortunately they didn’t have time to delve into the debate as they heard their names being barked from a short distance away and looked up to find Petunia and Vernon’s beady eyes watching them.

‘Oh yippee,’ Daisy grumbled, ‘Petty and Vermin are here to bring us Christmas cheer huh?’ ‘Play nice,’ Lily said putting on her fakest smile and dragging her sister towards them. Daisy faked a smile. What a Christmas this was going to be.

SIRIUS BLACK/SERIES TAGS

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