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#my mum's always been proud of me but just lately she seems to actually really admire me
thedreadvampy · 5 months
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The thing is I am definitely not happy or chill in the Immediate Sense lately but I am, big picture, so fucking happy with the person I am.
It's like. My brain was made by and for consistent trauma and since that trauma stopped about 5-7 years ago, it is incredible what the amount of resilience and cleverness and flexibility and thoughtfulness I developed to survive can do when it's not being all spent on surviving. like I had a hundred ton weight on me so I had to get REALLY STRONG to stay in the same place and not get 100% crushed, and when that weight came off I found I can use the strength it used to take to stand up and I can leap tall buildings in a single bound.
I was talking to my mum the other day and she said, "you've got the 'fuck it' energy at 30 that most women don't find until their fifties at least" and I'm like yeah man. Imagine how unstoppable I'll be in 20 years.
#red said#i don't know that i can express this clearly but it's the most encouraging thing in my life#my mum's always been proud of me but just lately she seems to actually really admire me#like she's genuinely impressed. she thinks I've surpassed her. i don't necessarily agree but it's a really nice quiet joy.#anyway like this sounds super up myself and it kind of is.#but also it's part of realising just how heavy the weight I've been carrying around with me for 25 years was#like not to be ridiculous but i have realised again this week. that it isn't that everyone's been raped that much and doesn't talk about it#i just have been raped an Unusually Consistent Amount. i have spoken to a lot of people who have had much more horrifying things happen.#I'm not sure I've talked to more than a couple of people who've had a similar level of total consistency of abuse from all angles#and the one is not heavier or harder to bear that the other. but. i think i spent most of my life listening to people's awful experiences#and going ok well nothing i went through looked that bad so it's microtrauma#obviously microtraumas build up but still.#then the older i get and the more i have these conversations the more I notice that stuff which to me is a microtrauma#is a lot of people's defining trauma. and they're reacting appropriately which means i am SO SEVERELY UNDERREACTING#told my friend the other day about a time someone who i still like and respect was having sex with me when i paralocated my hip#and then just kept getting really annoyed with me for not being ready to have sex again while i was literally crying with pain#until i caved and just tried to find the last painful position#and my friend was like pal what the fuck that's horrific#and i was like i mean no that's normal I've had sex with like maybe 3 or 4 people in my life who i haven't had similar stuff with#like i am genuinely thrown when i am allowed to say no to sex and have it be the end of the conversation. and not end up having sex#out of guilt or out of physical coercion or through physical rape. and i have had sex with probably like 40 people at this stage?#and I'm not sure it's as many as 4 i haven't had that experience with tbh#so like. I'm slowly coming to terms with the idea#that i may have actually been doing a hell of a lot of heavy lifting.#like i developed a sense of self that can survive being constantly crushed and at this stage is fucking diamond.
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kimbappykidding · 5 months
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Other Parts: Part One, Part Two and Part Four.
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V felt better than he had in a long time. He had a clear goal in mind and that gave him purpose and a reason to wake up in the morning. You. He knew now the future he wanted involved you and while that future was not guaranteed it gave him something to work for.
The first thing he did was cut out all his crutches, the booze the girls and everything in between. He didn't put anything in his body that he shouldn't and he immediately started feeling the benefits. Next, he started taking work more seriously. He began exercising to get his stamina back up to what it could be and went with Jimin to his vocal coaching appointments. He was on time at work and stayed late whenever he needed to. About a month in RM commented on V's progress and V thanked him but he wouldn't feel proud until you noticed the change in him.
Now his life was more stable he started working on himself. He started talking to a counsellor about his worries and struggles and she helped him come up with healthier mechanisms. He got checked out to make sure all the partying and sex hadn't affected his health or made him catch anything and felt so reassured when all his tests came back clean. He started examining his friendships and any that weren't okay with him taking a healthier approach to his life, he cut off. The guys in particular seemed happy when he told them he wasn't hanging around with that crowd anymore and he realised his members had been through a lot too.
He saw his family more and made sure to spend time with his mum in particular. He went home for her birthday for the first time since he'd broken up with you and she burst into tears when she saw him. He had no idea she'd missed him that much and promised to visit her more which just made her cry even more. Of all the things he'd done, this was what you noticed first.
When you came off hiatus you decided to just pretend V didn't exist so didn't look in his direction at any events and were hypervigilant about anything BTS. However, on your private Instagram, you could look at what you wanted and you'd seen the video on V's mum's Instagram of V surprising her for her birthday and were pleased. She was so happy to have her son back and he stayed with her for several days which was nice. V looked healthier in the photos and you couldn't help but notice that all his family members had alcohol but he clearly had a bottle of water instead. You had no idea if it was just a coincidence or not. You remembered what V had said at the end of his apology text about wanting to become a better person if you wanted him. Was this what he meant?
You were curious and so you asked your members what V was doing and they reported he'd dropped his toxic friends and they hadn't seen him at a nightclub in weeks. "Apparently he's performing better too" Yuqi said "my friend at Hybe said he's working hard to be a better idol and is always practising, exercising or rehearsing. They think he's turned over a new leaf but I'll believe it when I see it". "Or when it actually lasts long term" Soyeon said "he could easily revert back to his old ways". You nodded along but were a mixture of confused and dare you say excited? This must be the change V meant and if he did pull it off...well then you might think differently about letting him into your life again.
"Why?" Minnie asked noticing your frown and you shook your head "no reason". That convinced nobody. Soyeon narrowed her eyes at you and Yuqi shook her head "no come on, what's the reason?". You shook your head "nothing just...V said something to me after that video was leaked and I was wondering if he really meant it". The girls were SO curious so you showed them the text and were met with silence. "So you think...he's serious?" Shuhua asked cautiously "that he's changing like he promised?". You shrugged "I don't know...maybe?". "Do you want him to?" Soojin asked and you frowned "I don't know! Am I an idiot if I do?". "No!" Miyeon said "not at all!" and the girls all echoed her except Yuqi. She was the most straight-talking of the members so you looked at her and called her name. "Yuqi, what do you think?" you asked. She looked down and then up at you. "I don't know, part of me wants to just bundle you up and take you away from him because he does not deserve a second chance and I don't want you to get hurt if he reverts back to his usual ways". "So you think I shouldn't get my hopes up?" you asked and Yuqi shook her head "not at all and I think he's definitely doing all this for you". "You do?" you asked and Yuqi nodded "100% but I just hope it lasts. I think you need to give him time to mess up honestly. I'm worried he'll break your heart again if you go back to him now". You blinked "woah Yuqi I'm not planning to go back to him now". "You're not?" she asked with a hint of relief in her voice and you shook your head "god no! I was just checking if there were any reasons to hope this might be a good sign". Yuqi smiled "there's always a reason to hope, we'll keep an eye out for signs for you" and the girls all rushed to agree. "Thank you" you smiled at them "I promise I won't rush into anything" and from how tightly they all hugged you, you knew they all felt like Yuqi. They didn't want to see you hurt, you just hoped you'd be able to protect yourself better than last time.
V felt like his life was finally on track again but he reminded himself he couldn't expect you to suddenly come rushing to him. You might not actually be interested in his anymore or the damage might've already been done. He might've destroyed your trust in him and you needed solid proof before you were ready. Or maybe there was someone else or you were taking a break from dating after that leaked video nearly wrecked your career. There were so many reasons why you could be hesitating and V couldn't get ahead of himself. So he kept his head down and just carried on but some of your joint friends had different ideas.
Kai had noticed the changes in V majorly and he also knew about the text he'd sent you. At first, he was angry. Did V really think not sleeping with tons of girls and stopping putting toxins in his body for a few weeks would make things okay? He hoped you wouldn't fall for it and had his obligatory "he's not good enough for you" friend speech ready but he didn't need it. You didn't mention V and everything seemed to be okay...but then Kai started believing it. He'd known V for a while and heard a lot about him through Jimin and despite everything he didn't think V was a calculating person. He knew how to play the game and act when he had to but he wasn't malicious...so was this change real?
One day when he was hanging out with Jimin he "casually" asked how V was. Jimin looked at Kai almost questioningly and then nodded "he's good". "How good?" Kai asked "just the news has been really quiet about him lately. Is he on hiatus or something?". Jimin shook his head "no that's been all V, he's been a different person lately and all that's behind him". Kai snorted "yeah sure!" Kai smirked and Jimin shook his head "it's true!". "Jimin, I know he's your member but come on, I've seen him on a night out. Guys like that don't change". Kai didn't mean what he said but he wanted to prod Jimin into spilling more and it worked.
"Well you clearly don't know him and are judging him like everyone else!" Jimin burst and Kai held up his hands "calm down, no need to get mad". Jimin nodded "I know but he's been working really hard lately. It's not just his health and his worth ethic which he's taken charge of. He's repairing family relationships, he cut out bad friends who use him and he's talking to someone about the pressure and stress we're under! He's doing so well Kai and I don't care if you run and tell Y/n or not but he's doing amazing and I'm so proud of him". Kai nodded "you should be, it sounds like he's doing great". Jimin nodded taking a breath and after he'd calmed a little changed the subject but V stayed on Kai's mind the rest of the day.
Kai watched V even closer and recruited his members to also watch him and report back anything bad they'd heard but there wasn't much of that except a small bit from Sehun. "Binna is pissed at him" he excitedly said one day, taking to his detective role very happily. "Why?" Baekhyun asked "because he broke up with her?". Sehun nodded "apparently he'd ended things with her lots of time before" he said, doing air quotes when he said ended "but they always got back together or well Binna could find some way to convince him to carry on but not this time. According to my source, she's tried everything even showing up at his apartment in the middle of the night wearing nothing under her coat. He wouldn't even open the door to her and when she wouldn't leave he called her members to come get her. Apparently she went kicking and screaming". "Wow" Kai said "that must've been horrible for him" and all the guys nodded. "Are you going to tell Y/n?" Chanyeol asked and Kai noddded "I think I have to, I know she still cares about him and if he really has changed then I think he could make her happy". "Yeah and if he doesn't she knows we'll all kill him right?" D.O. asked and Kai smiled "I will make that crystal clear.
Kai did exactly that. He sat you down one day and explained why he thought you might just be able to listen to what V said. He warned you he'd only been watching him for 2 months so it might not be long term but so far it was looking good. "I'm not telling you this to tell you to get back with him" Kai said "just so you've got all the information. I'd considered keeping it from you but knew I couldn't do that. I want to protect you but I also want you to be happy and V might be able to do that". You got goosebumps as Kai said that and nodded "I've been watching him too, it looks good right?". Kai smiled "it really does" and you both exchanged things you'd noticed and were pleased with. "Okay so what do I do next?" you asked and when Kai hesitated you smiled "and I don't mean romantically. That's in the back of my mind but I want to start off as friends first. So how do you think I do that?". Kai smiled "leave it to me".
"Okay" Kai said the next time he saw Jimin "what would you say if I told you Y/n was open to being friends with V again". Jimin's huge eyes got even wider "WHAT!" he cried "she said that? She's open to him? This is amazing!". Kai held up his hands "calm down, I'm just feeling things out". "But you must think she's open to it if you're asking me" Jimin pointed out. Kai nodded "we've both noticed the changes in V's behaviour and they've seemed pretty consistent...and that is the only reason I am encouraging this" Kai said "if I thought for a second V was trying to trick or deceive Y/n..." Kai started but Jimin shook his head "he's not Kai. Trust me, I like Y/n and don't want to see her hurt. If I thought he wasn't serious I would tell you to put her off but he's deadly serious. He's had laser focus and it's really impressive". Kai nodded "okay great, so how do we do this? Y/n is open but also nervous". Jimin frowned "would she be okay if V messaged her or should we do something a little more organic?". Kai nodded "I like your thinking, what are you doing next Saturday?".
Chanyeol's birthday party was pretty low-key to say how popular the stunning rapper was but he liked it that way. However, lowkey for an idol meant a party with 100 people and so Kai managed to get two tickets for Jimin and V to attend. He'd checked with you in advance and you were okay with it and actually a little excited. Even though you were definitely coming at this from a friendship perspective, you still dressed extra nicely tonight knowing V would be here. Kai was probably more nervous than you and with two good reasons 1. he had helped organise this so if V hurt you it would be his fault and 2. Yuqi had threatened to kick his ass if no.1 happened. So Kai was fluttering around you nervously when he saw V enter.
You hadn't noticed, too busy chatting to NCT's Johnny and Kai was unsure if he should warn you or not. V saw him watching him and gave him a small nod which Kai returned. Kai took a seat next to you and you could just tell from the look on his face V was here. Sure enough, when you searched you found him. He was at the bar with Jimin but he didn't order anything. He looked nothing like the last few times you'd seen him. Before he'd either been cocky and smug or emotional and frantic. This time he seemed softer, you watched him smile at something Jimin said and nod to some Red Velvet members who passed him. You looked down, worried he'd look up and see you watching him and felt a little flushed. You reminded yourself the whole point of V being here tonight was so you could talk to him and wondered how you'd do that.
Luckily it happened pretty casually. You were walking with NCT's Doyoung and Jeno when Jeno saw Jimin and rushed to hug him. Jeno had apparently met Jimin years ago at some event before he was an idol and they'd remained friends. Doyoung also went over to greet Jimin and V. You followed and smiled at Jimin before looking at V. He was staring at you a little and looked almost stunned you were in front of him but he quickly smiled and bowed to you. He said a polite hello to everyone and the conversation continued. You let Jimin and Jeno talk before looking back at V. He caught your eye and smiled "I liked your latest comeback" he said softly. You smiled "thank you, it was a lot of work but it turned out well". He nodded "I can imagine it was, the concept was so cool and the routine looked really difficult". You nodded "it was, I still don't think my thighs have recovered" and V laughed. You liked the sound of his laugh and smiled a genuine smile. V noticed and paused "would you like to go have a chat? I'd love to catch up on how work and stuff is going?" and you nodded.
The two of you talked for about half an hour and it was a little awkward but sweet. V was careful with you and you could tell the effort he was putting in. He'd clearly remembered everything you liked when you were together and when he asked about your favourite sports team you had to smile. "I thought about you when they won" he admitted and you did blush a little at that. He asked you tons of questions and watched you answer with his attention fully fixed on you. You could see Kai and your members watching you nervously so decided to wrap things up before anything could go wrong. "Yeah of course!" V said "it's been so nice speaking to you, would it be okay if I texted you?" he asked and you nodded "yeah I'd like that" and V smiled.
So after that, the two of you were in contact. It started off slowly, exchanging polite conversations and funny photos before it got more casual and evolved into meeting up. The two of you had to be super careful not to be photographed together but V always made sure you came first and were comfortable with where you wanted to go. You went to all your old hangouts and also lots of new ones. V commented on how much you'd grown since you'd last been friendly and you did feel proud. You weren't the same person as before and had matured so much...the same could be said for V. He was different not only from when you last new him but also from the sex-obsessed party boy you'd come to know him as. He explained to you what some of these changes involved and how he'd given up the drink and other addictive substances. He admitted he didn't know who he was in those times and how he enjoyed his life a lot more now. You were so happy to hear that and had noticed a huge difference in him but didn't really know what to do from here.
You'd told Kai you just wanted to get to know V as friends and you'd done that. You'd sussed him out and liked what you saw but what now? You were terrified to take the next step even though on paper everything was straightforward. V was stable, healthy and in a place for commitment. You still had great chemistry and had never stopped finding him attractive. You felt great when you were around him and found yourself missing him when you didn't get to see him for a bit. So why couldn't you just tell him you wanted him?
It was really bothering you and V noticed you seemed more anxious than usual so he asked you why and it all spilled out. "I don't know what's wrong with me!" you admitted "everything is perfect but something's making me hold back". V shook his head "nothing's wrong with you Y/n, I hurt you really badly several times so of course you've learnt to be cautious around me and it's not in your nature to jump into something with me". You frowned "I know but I figured if I spent time with you that fear would go and it hasn't! We've been hanging out for nearly 3 months now and I'm still wary of going any further. The attraction isn't the issue either, I like you and I want you I just can't" you said exasperated. V nodded and patted your hand "Y/n it's okay, you don't need to blame yourself. The problem is clearly me and something you're not getting from me so think, what do you need me to do?" V asked "seriously just tell me and I'll do it". "V it's not that simple" you sighed but he shook his head "no it is, you tell me absolutely anything you need from me and I'll do it to prove how serious about you I am". You shook your head "I want there to be something, some act that can make it all better but I don't know V...I'm not sure if there's anything that can reassure me enough. I'm too nervous and scared about the whole thing".
That broke V's heart. "I never want to make you upset" he said and you smiled sadly "and you haven't, these past months have been so nice and I'm really glad you're back in my life...I just don't know if it was wise. I feel like it's made us both want each other and I didn't want to give you false hope but I just don't know what you could possibly do to prove it all to me". V nodded "I understand, can I still see you?" he asked "or do you think that would be too painful for you?". You shook your head "I don't want to lose you V just maybe we'll need a break for a bit. If I see you right now it's just going to remind me of what I can't have and that will just make me upset and depressed". V nodded "okay I respect that, if you think of anything I can do though can you let me know?". You hesitated before nodding "I can't think of anything that would prove to me how serious about all of this you are but of course yeah, if I think of anything I'll tell you".
You parted ways quickly after that with heavy hearts and V was wracking his brains of ways he could fix this. What you said last to him stuck in his mind. He gave it a few days and when his mind still didn't change he decided to go for it. It was the riskiest thing he'd ever done but if it showed you how serious about you he was, it would all be worth it.
V set up his phone and purposefully chose a room in the studio that locked. He'd vaguely told the staff he was going live but left it at that so technically he never lied to them about what he was going to do.
He quickly greeted fans after he went live and then got to the point. "So I know this in unplanned but I'm here today because I've got something I need to confess. The truth is, I'm in love with Y/n from G-(I)dle" V said. He felt the atmosphere change even though it was a virtual medium and knew this was monumental but kept going. "We dated for 3 years and broke up 5 years ago because I wasn't a good boyfriend. I was immature, unsupportive and wasn't happy having one amazing girl. Y/n put up with me for way longer than she deserved" V said as a member of staff tried the locked door. "When she ended it with me I was happy because it was the excuse I needed to sleep with any girl I wanted but I now realise it was the worst moment of my life. Y/n was an amazing girlfriend, she was caring, thoughtful and made me feel like I could do anything. She loved me more than I even knew was possible and with her I just felt at home" V said smiling slightly at the memory before his smile vanished "but then I ruined everything" he said. "I'm telling you all this because some of you have taken it upon yourselves to abuse Y/n for dating me. I'm telling you all if you want a villain, it's me. I started that argument you all saw with Y/n because I was selfish and wanted her to come back and save me after all I'd put her through. I was a jerk but I wasn't the one put on hiatus or punished and anyone who harassed her is not a true fan of mine" he said shaking his head in anger. The person trying to get in started knocking on the door getting louder and louder and V sighed "I'll be cut off soon but I wanted you all to know. I love Y/n and will never love anyone else like I love her. She is the greatest person I know and I would give up everything, all of this" he said gesturing around the room "for her...because she's really that special and I wanted you all to know that".
He ended the stream and opened the door, ready to face the consequences.
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altschmerzes · 9 months
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hey saw ur comment on the man city fix it fic ab Jamie’s fathers death & was wondering what u disliked ab the Jamie’s mum and Simon part? not judging or anything im just curious!!
yeaaaaaaah so! from what ive seen at least this is a not particularly common opinion which is fine, im aware i have some particular biases and priorities and whatnot in this area, but it just… i didnt like that stuff at all. it really put me off actually, for a couple reasons. i'll get into why, but i know a lot of people like Really Loved that stuff and especially his mom - and it also gets a little down on season 3 and the writing team as a whole at some points lmao - so i'll put it under a cut.
(this got. very long. im so sorry.)
it basically boils down to a couple things: 1. what they presented us with doesn't hold water if poked literally at all in any direction, 2. it made me feel a little uncomfortable given the way everything else in jamie's arc played out, and 3. if they were going to do something like this, they needed WAY more time and narrative space to execute it well in general and specifically for ME to execute it in a way that didn't leave a bad taste in my mouth.
there are a few things that i generally dread when you have a character who's presented to have some serious trauma related to their family and specifically to an abusive parent, and one of those things is the sudden inclusion of another parent in there who is just. everything is totally fine and normal and happy and not at all complicated with them! it always makes me feel weird and bad when that happens, especially when there is no explanation provided for how that like. fits in with the abuse we know they experienced as well. that is a matter of personal preference, and i can own that. i just don't like it, and it makes me feel weird and uneasy. and that's part of it here, but what's also part of it is that i think that - my personal feelings about this type of character choice overall aside - they did not execute it well given the story they'd already presented us with, the way they used these new characters, and how much time they spent on it.
the image they presented of jamie's mom and stepdad is like… very simple and positive and shiny and uncomplicated. it's just good. they just love and support him and are a positive and affectionate active presence. and that might seem like an unfair characterization of it because we saw very little and we know very little of what their relationship is actually like - we don't know what might be complicated, what might be messy, how often they talk, etc - but that’s honestly part of my issue here. we were given a sliver of a glimpse into jamie's mom and his relationship with her and his stepdad when jamie as a character is someone who is hugely defined by his family history and the baggage and trauma and danger associated with it. if they were going to do this, they needed to spend way more time on it. they needed to introduce her earlier, do something to make it jive with what we were already presented about her: some vague mentions, half of which were in past tense, and all of which seemed to imply very strongly that if she were alive (which there was a lot of confusion about!) then they were likely to some degree estranged, because it seemed pretty clear with the 'i don't know if she would be [proud] lately' bit that he literally did not know what she thought of him in recent years. and like. it seems like i'm nitpicking, but again, this is a character who has been so strongly based in and defined by his family and the like. past and current danger and trauma associated with it.
especially given how little time or attention was given to everything else with his family, it was just way too late in the game to introduce these characters and be able to do them and their relationship with the existing characters justice. like you’ve already got a complicated story you’re skipping most of and not giving its due do you really need to add more really complicated stuff in there. and then just go actually it's not complicated don't worry about it :) like. that just doesn't work for me.
so that's where i'm at like, not only do i inherently dislike this sort of element introduced with this type of character, which is a me problem, i also think the story they presented in that episode with his mom and simon just flat out didn't make sense and they did not have the time to make it make sense even if they'd tried, which they didn't. like... if things are just fine and normal and easy with them and she’s just great and loving and supportive it’s like i. So What Happened, Then.
it makes his entire arc make less sense. if she's just Been Here what happened? why did he need to be reminded that not EVERYONE in his life was out to get him? why did keeley have to tell him to stop battling everyone that was just trying to help him? why is he so isolated and adrift at the beginning of season two? why did she never attend a single match? why did we never see him text or call or mention her in a contemporary way? like there COULD be answers to those things that make sense with what they presented, but we didn't get any of those answers and those are big questions to me given they comprise like... all of jamie's character arc lmao. at the end of the day, throwing in the stuff with his mom feels... really disrespectful to the story they wrote with him (that they already fell down on the job with) to just throw that in there with no consideration or attention paid to how it fits with or impacts anything already established.
i truly don't think that every question needs to be answered in a story. i am not saying that. i'm not saying someone needed to turn to the audience and go here's the logistic details of exactly how and when everything that happened with jamie and his parents happened. but there are some serious issues with like, telling a coherent story, and utilizing the extremely limited narrative space that a secondary character in an ensemble show can be afforded. (especially when in season three it really felt like they were already racing through characters and plot lines and backstory stuff like the goal was to just drop info just to Have It and then never address or do anything with it at all.) why did they do that, is what i keep going back to. you're telling a story with very limited space and a lot of characters. so what was the reason for that stuff to be there? so that someone could lay the 'yea he was a dick but he made you into this person! you're so strong now!' foundation for ted telling jamie to forgive his dad and 'disappointed teacher face' him into saying 'thank you' after the 'fuck you'? or was it just fanservice that you didn't think needed to fit with the rest of the story narratively or thematically? because that's where i keep going back to as well.
it just... and this is the bitchier, more spiteful part of me saying this, the part that was PROFOUNDLY let down by the way they handled the aspects of jamie's arc to do with his family and with the abuse he suffered, but it feels like an attempt to use happy sparkly fanservice-y funny and feel-good scenes with his adorable mom and sweet stepdad to like. pull way back on the rest of his whole situation with his family like see no he’s fine! isn’t it great how funny and adorable his mom is! isnt his stepdad fun! everything is fine actually things with his dad are just ~complicated because james drinks :) (and then all he needs to do about that is grow up and forgive, he's just a melodramatic mama's boy, the pain is his fault and he'll be fine once he Forgives, and rehab fixes everything). i don't have some kind of conspiracy that this was their actual reasoning but that's how it hit to me - whoops we don't actually want to deal with the abuse so we're gonna sweep it way under the couch and look! see! here's his cute fun mom isn't she great! (He's Fine Don't Worry About It, His Family Is Actually Sooooo Supportive!)
but yeah that's the bitchy and unfair part of me so. that's not really my main point.
(i also gotta say everything about that sequence with jamie and company at his mom's house feels like... tissue paper thin and very fucking weird from both a narrative and a logistical point of view. the stuff with the actual people of his mom and stepdad aside, what the hell was up with his room? what was that poster of keeley doing there. when did that go up. how old was he when he put it there. yeah she's older than him by a fair bit but not THAT much older. and if he was putting it up as like, a teenager or something, why is the rest of that room decorated for a seven year old. parents preserve their kids rooms like shrines this is true but the idea of a like, jamie in his mid/late teens or whatever putting that poster of keeley up but also sleeping in a little kid's bed still is like... did you think about this at all. it really does not seem like you did. At All. it just goes to my spiteful fringe theory about that whole sequence which is “oh this is pure 100% gratuitous backpatting fanservice that nobody actually thought about in any real way whatsoever”)
sorry this got so long but i have a lot of thoughts on this and they get kicked up every time i see posts gushing about how much people loved georgie or those scenes or whatnot like everyone is of course entitled to their opinion and i don't hold it against anyone! but that stuff hit way different for me and just added insult to injury in an episode that generally seemed to handle jamie and his situation in a way i found cringeworthy and weird at best and offensive and victim blaming at worst.
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Seo's Memory
TW: Mention of dead parent
I tapped my shoe anxiously on the floor as I waited for my dad to get home, he always works late but it was able to make him a lot of money. He spent most of the money on me actually, making sure I had a decent education and an amazing childhood. But sometimes I really worry about him. He's working so hard for me and yet he never takes a break for himself and that worries me. I was just drinking some green tea, trying to get my nerves down really. Soon I heard the door unlock and my dad entered through it, he looked tired from a long day of work. He looked at me and smiled gently.
“Good afternoon Akemi!” My dad said as he ruffled my hair and slightly undid his tie.
“Afternoon dad.” I murmured as I sipped my green tea. Dad was looking at me with a worried expression.
“Akemi, is something wrong?” He asked me, taking a seat next to me.
“Yeah…” I sighed as I put my now empty cup on the floor, “I’m worried dad. I’m worried that you're gonna overwork yourself.”
“Overwork myself?” I saw my dad tilt his head curiously, “What do you mean overwork myself?”
“Dad, you haven’t taken a proper break in sixteen years.” I responded, “I get that you're doing it for me but you’ve got to find time for yourself…” I looked at my dad as he seemed surprised, “Sorry I-”
“Akemi don’t apologise.” He responded, he placed a hand on my shoulder, “I get what you're saying. I understand I work too much.” I looked down at the floor in guilt.
“Dad can I…ask you a question?”
“Sure thing…” He answered, I took a deep breath in. This was something I never asked about. “What was mum like..?” I asked carefully. I really didn’t want to upset my dad with this question.
“Valeria?” My dad mumbled, before shaking his head and gently laughing, “You’ve never asked me about her before. Why now?” “Well I…” I stumbled on my words a bit, “I was just curious that’s all.”
“Well… Akemi, your mother was the most lovely person anyone could ever meet.” He responded, wiping his eyes, “She was able to light up any room she went to actually by just being herself. She was really really popular actually.”
“Was she?” I responded in shock.
“Yeah..yeah. She had this aura about her which made boys almost fall for her. I wasn’t exactly fooled by it, mainly because we didn’t actually meet till college.” He laughed again, trying to hide the tears in his eyes, “I didn’t know a lick of spanish and she…she took pity on me and showed me around…around campus.” He took a moment before continuing, “That’s how I fell for her. She was just lovely to me and taught me alot of spanish.” I laughed a tiny bit, imagining dad learning spanish with his future wife was cute.
“I see…” I murmured. Dad then looked at me before continuing.
“Akemi, your mum would’ve been so proud of you.” He said before the tears started up, “Valeria would’ve been so proud if she saw our child today…” Soon I began crying, not as much as dad though which was understandable, “She wanted to have a child more than anything. She would’ve absolutely adored you.”
“I…I see.” I responded with a slight quiver in my voice, “What happened after she died…?” I could tell dad was gathering his composure before continuing.
“Well, she was my everything, Akemi. The last thing she said to me was to look after you.” He wiped his eyes, “And after about three weeks of mourning and taking care of you… Nothing was clicking with me. I felt lost.” I looked at dad guiltily, I hated seeing him upset, “But one day, I was thinking back to that day when it finally clicked with me. Valeria went through so much… Yet even with her final breath she was thinking more about you than herself.” This was when I finally began crying, to think that my mum was more worried about me than herself was so uplifting.
“Dad I…” I could feel my dad’s arms wrap around me as he whispered.
“Shhhhh Akemi it’s fine…” He whispered gently into my ear, “Look, I know I work alot but you’re my entire life Akemi. I do everything for you… I want to take care of you as my son and to make Valeria proud…” I nodded my head as he gently caressed my hair in a fatherly manner, “Look Akemi. I’ll take the day off tomorrow and we can spend the day just hanging out. How does that sound kiddo?” I looked up at my dad and smiled softly.
“Yeah, yeah I’d like that.” I sat back up and wiped my eyes. I watched as my dad sat up.
“I’ll go and quickly get changed out of my work uniform. Then we can have some dinner.” My dad then walked upstairs and into his room. Now I understand why my dad never remarried and chose to stay as a widower. He loved my mum too much, but in that sadness I saw a strength he had, that power to continue no matter what challenges life throws at you. That power was admirable, and it’s something that makes my dad a pretty cool person.
No matter what, he’ll always have the strength to continue. That's why my dad is a wonderful person.
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delicrieux · 3 years
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☆ミ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”
PART 23: PRETTY BOY
emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.
─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.
author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!
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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results). 
You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be. 
The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.
Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.
In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children. 
noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T
yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me
feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(
You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.
“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.
why does she sound like goofy 
The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.
pack it up yandere simulator
idk whats going on but i think im into it?
villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC
“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”
More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”
“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”
“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”
“SD-what now?” Dream questions.
“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”
“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”
“Guess, Sherlock.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.
“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”
“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.
“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim. 
Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.
“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”
If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.
“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.
“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.
Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”
i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me
^already too late for me bro
As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.
Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.
He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”
He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.
“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”
“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”
“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.
“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.
“HEY!”
“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”
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Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.
Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.
Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!
“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.
“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.
“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”
Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.
“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”
Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”
“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”
“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”
“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”
“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”
“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”
“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.
“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”
“You were not--”
“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”
“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”
“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do. 
Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.
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“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”
“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.
BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!
Your fishnets have a point! 
“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.
“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.
“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”
“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”
“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”
“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”
“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”
“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”
“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”
“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.
“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.
“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.
“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”
NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK
MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T
“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”
“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”
“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”
“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”
finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for
i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)
the bis won
“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”
“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”
Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”
“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”
“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus. 
“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”
“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.
“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”
Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping. 
You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.
That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex. 
“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”
“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”
“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.
“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”
“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”
“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”
“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!
“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”
Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”
“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”
“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.
“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”
“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”
A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.
“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.
“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”
He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him. 
y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards
Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.
“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”
“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”
“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.
“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”
“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”
“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.
“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red. 
“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.
“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.
“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.
In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.
“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”
“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).
yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder
queen stop its embarrassing
bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3
More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.
The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.
it’s happening!!!! 
omg omg omg omg
VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC
You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”
pack it up light yagami
this has awoken something in me.
^ same
The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.
Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.
“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.
It’s a knife.
In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.
Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.
Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.
So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.
“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling. 
You grin, “I was looking for something.”
Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.
“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.
“A knife.”
“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”
“Yes.”
“No!”
You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.
i love women
if evil bad...why seggy?
You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.
You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!” 
“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out. 
“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”
“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”
“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.
hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom
hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly
mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn
Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.
You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”
“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”
“Is it because you’re bald?”
“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.
You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.
You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.
“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”
You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.
“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.
“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.
“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.
“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”
“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.
“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.
Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.
“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.
“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.
only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3
corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever
the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite
“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.
You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”
“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.
“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”
“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.
“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you. 
You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage. 
“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”
“No fucking clue.”
“Y/n?” She tries again.
“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”
“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.
Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.
You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her. 
“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”
“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”
You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”
“SHIT!”
Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”
“I’m not Impostor!”
“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”
They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.
“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”
“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”
“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”
“I’d never do that, baby.”
Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement. 
“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.” 
Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”
“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”
“Holy shit.”
“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.
“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.
“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.
“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.
“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”
“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”
“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”
Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”
“No, she does.” James chimes.
“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”
More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.
Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.
✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼
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✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼  ҉  ✼
tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos​ - @fairywriter-oracle​ - @tsukishimawh0re​ - @ofstarsanddreams​ - @bbecc-a​ - @annshit​ - @leahh19​ - @letsloveimagines​ - @bellomi-clarke​ - @wineandionysus​ - @guiltydols​ - @onephootinfrontoftheother​ - @liamakorn​ - @thirstyfangirl​ - @lilysdaydreams​ - @pan-ini​ - @mxqicshxp​ - @tanchosanke​ - @yoshinorecommends​ - @flightsandfantasy​ - @liljennyx3​ - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible​ - @sinister-sleep​ - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat​ - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit​ - @unstableye​ - @simonsbluee​ - @shinyshimaagain​ - @ppopty​ - @siriuslystupid​ - @crapimahuman​ - @ofthedewthesunlight​ - @mythicalamphitrite​ - @artsyally​ - @corpsesimpp​ - @corpsewhitetee​ - @corpse-husbandsimp​ - @hyp-oh-critical​ - @roses-and-grasses​ - @rhyrhy462​ - @sparklylandflaplawyer​ - @charbkgo​ - @airwaveee​ - @creativedogs​ - @kaitlyn2907​ - @loxbbg​ - @afuckingunicornn​ - @fleurmoon​ - @yeolliedokai​
more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙
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finelinevogue · 3 years
Note
Thanks can you write something about one of the kids getting hate online from jealous people and how it affects them and what Harry and Y/N do
hello!! so this one is going to be about isabelle getting hate (😔), which you will find out why. i’m also changing the age gaps between them because it’s so hard to write with larger age gaps. so here isabelle is 16, felix is 19 and oli is 21!!
“Mum!”
You had been busy ironing the clothes downstairs, whilst watching ‘Call the Midwife’ on the TV, when you heard Felix shouting you from upstairs.
“What?” You shouted back, moving from the lounge to the bottom of the stairs to hear better.
“I think you should see this.”
When your children say things like this you either roll your eyes when you find out they wanted to show you a meme, or panic because some rumour has been spread all over the internet of them.
“Just hang on a minute!” Your attention diverted to the front door being opened harshly. Everyone else was already home but Belle, so it must’ve been her. It was a Wednesday today and Belle always had study group in the library after-school on a Wednesday, although today she was back a little earlier than normal.
You moved the latch off the porch door and opened it to welcome Belle home, watching as she threw off her high-top converse aggressively.
“Hiya love, you alr—” You didn’t get to finish before you saw that her eyes were red and puffy, tears streaming down her face like a cascading waterfall. Her mascara was smudged and made it look like she hadn’t slept for weeks. “Woah, hey, Belle?”
Belle didn’t listen to you though, instead she stormed past and ran up the stairs and a minute later you heard her bedroom door slam shut.
What the fuck was that about?
“Minute too late mum!” Felix shouted again, making you roll your eyes in annoyance. However, it did confirm that something had happened to Belle on social media or over the internet and you had to get Harry on top of this now.
You walked down the stairs, into your basement - which Harry had converted into a sound-proof studio - and saw him sat with a guitar on his lap and pencil between his teeth, playing around with chords on repeat.
“Babe?” You knocked on the door as you spoke, Harry looking up from where he was sat to you and smiling as bright as ever.
“You alright love?” He asked sweetly, taking the pencil out of his mouth first.
“I am yeah, but Belle’s just come home crying and shut herself in her room.” You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to work through everything that had happened and wondering whether you’d done something or not done something.
Harry instantly got to his feet, putting everything down so that he could come over to you. He placed his warm hands on your cheeks and kissed your lips once just because, “I know what you’re thinking, so stop it. Something’s probably happened at school. Let me go talk to her, okay?” You nodded in agreement and sighed in thanks.
Belle had always been more of a daddy’s girl than a mommy’s girl, and that was okay. It just meant that she was more open to her feelings and her heart with her dad than you, not to say she never talked to you about things like that. Harry always filled you in on things, though, and would prompt you to talk to her if he thought extremely necessary. Belle liked to work things out by herself normally, not liking to be a burden to anyone - a lot like you actually.
Harry walked out of the room and climbed the stairs two at a time until he made it outside Belle’s room. He knocked before entering, but Belle made no sound for him to enter.
“Belles?” Harry asked softly, shutting the door and walking over to her bed which she was curled up on. She had obviously flopped on the bed and began crying, because there was no sign of effort to get under the covers or get comfortable.
“D-dad?” She mumbled roughly, her choked sobs holding her back.
“Yes sweetheart, i’m here.” Harry sat down on the edge of her bed and sat their patiently. He didn’t want to invade her space or make her feel claustrophobic, so he waited for her to come to him and that didn’t take long. She sprang up and hugged him with her head buried against her dad’s chest, sobbing so violently that Harry’s heart cracked in two. He hated to see his baby cry. It was his biggest weakness.
Belle made an attempt to speak but Harry couldn’t understand due to the shear heaviness of her cries.
“Belles, y’gotta calm down for me, my heart. Gotta breathe it out before you make yourself sick.” He smoothed his hand over the back of her hair, like he’d always done. Her breathing ever-so-slowly coming back down to a normal and healthy pace. “That’s it, thank you.” He kissed the top of her head and held her tightly still.
“Dad?” She shakily started.
“Yes love.”
“Do y-you know?” She sat up so she could face her dad, bur Harry didn’t let his hands leave hers.
“Know what, sweetheart?”
Harry genuinely didn’t know and Belle could see that in his honest, kind, eyes.
“T-that…” Belle started tearing up again, her bottom lip wobbling like sailors legs.
“Hey, calm down. You’re okay. Breathe and then talk to me, okay?” Harry ordered her, not caring if this took all night. He was here for his baby girl whenever and wherever, no exceptions. If she didn’t ever tell him, that was okay as long as he helped her build up her happiness again. A few deep breaths later and she was feeling more comfortable.
“I..,” she paused momentarily to collect her words before letting them flow out beautifully, “i’m gay dad.”
Warmth spread through Harry’s heart as if he were torch that’d just been set alight. He could only put the way he felt into one word; proud. He was so proud that his daughter was turning into the loving and open and beautiful woman she was always born to be. He was also just so happy that she had the confidence in him to tell him something so important to her.
“I’m so proud of you, Belle.”
“Really?” She sounded surprised, which made Harry take a step back in confusion.
“Yes of course,” Harry squeezed her hand just a little tighter, “have I ever given you a reason to think otherwise?”
“No.”
“Then where’s this doubt coming from hey?”
Belle began to cry again at his question.
“T-the media found out and i-it’s been published everywhere a-and I w-was worried I wouldn’t b-be able to tell you myself b-before they could. They’re being s-so rude too.” Her cries broke Harry all over again. As much as he was proud of her for coming out so bravely, he was incredibly pissed off that the media thought it was there business to pass around before Belle was even comfortable admitting it first. It’s Belle’s right to come out when she wants and how she wants and Harry could understand how frustrating and upsetting that must be to have it all taken away. He had to keep calm for Belle though, pulling her back into his chest to hold her safely.
“What are they saying?”
Anger bubbled through Harry’s veins as she began to speak.
“That i’m only gay to promote the values you stand for or that you’ll be disappointed that not all your children are straight.”
Harry’s fingers curled at her words, not understanding how much of a low-life you have to be to genuinely type and publish these things about a child, let alone his child. He was furious and he was going to burn - metaphorically - the people responsible for this abuse.
“How did they find out?”
Instead of her saying anything she pulled up a picture of the article online - released by ‘The Sun’ unsurprisingly as they were the worst for paparazzi stalking - and it all started to piece together.
The article headlined a picture of Belle and another girl, kissing outside of school. The study group mustn’t have been exclusively studying. Harry didn’t focus on the shitty article, he instead focused on how the smile on Belle’s face was the widest he’d ever seen.
“You look very happy.” Harry tried to make light of the situation for his daughter.
“I am. They make me very happy.” Belle blushed and Harry caught on.
“And they’re called?”
“Megan.”
“Megan,” Harry repeated the name, getting a feel for the way it sounded for future use, “well they seem lovely.”
“Dad you’ve only seen them through a picture of us kissing.” Belle rolled her eyes and Harry reached out to dab the tears away, not minding that his sleeve was becoming heavily damp.
“Shut up you,” he laughed causing a smile to leap onto Belles face too, “do we get to meet them?”
“Hopefully,” Belle smiles, before looking down to her lap with furrowed brows, “that is, if they still like me after this whole media shambles.” Belle let out a breathe of shaky air and Harry caught her anxiety before she could let herself run off with it.
“Let me take care of that, don’t worry yourself over it, okay?” Belle nodded.
“Do I have to make like a statement or anything?”
“You do whatever you want to, Belles, and i’ll love you no matter what.”
And with that Harry left the room, a smile on his face for feeling like the proudest most happiest parent on the planet. It only lasted a few minutes though, because now it was time to make some phone calls and sue a few people.
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Text
Best Friends My Ass (one-shot)
Synopsis: Being in love with your best friend whom you’ve had since childhood can be tough. Being in love and being dumb can make it tougher. Meet the Reader and Harry. They’re the latter. And everyone’s fed up.
Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader
Genre: fluff, maybe little bit of angst, tiny bit smutty, but not a lot
Warnings: swearing, two idiots pining for one another
Word count: 7524
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Even when Harry was little, he’d known he’d have an odd path in life. Just because it was odd, didn’t mean it’d be bad, but it would make him absolutely stand out in the crowd.        When Y/N was young she didn’t see herself having any extraordinary adventures. Sure, she’d travel and explore the world with its secrets, but she didn’t have any plans to draw the attention of the masses. That was until Harry’d come into her life.        They were both young, still kids in that tender age where childhood crossed into teenage years, when they met. For Harry, it was like one of those scenes in the movies where the pretty girl walks into a room and a billion fans make her hair look like the wind is sweeping through it, and her eyes glisten like gemstones. Also known as the 'love at first sight' scene.        For Y/N, it was hard to keep her breakfast down as she walked inside the classroom, twenty pairs of scrutinous eyes on her, trying to figure out if the new girl was a predator or prey.        Luckily for Y/N, the biology teacher wasn’t a total witch and didn’t make her present herself to the class, and just pointed to the free seat next to a curly-haired boy. Luckily for Harry, that free seat was right next to him.        With a sigh, she dropped her heavy backpack beside the chair, giving the boy a shy glance, and was surprised to see a genuine and large grin right back at her. It wasn’t the kind people gave when they had bad thoughts. It was the kind people gave when they were truly excited and wanted to give a good impression. Y/N’s chest grew warm at the thought she might actually make a friend that day. And she did.        “I’m Harry.” He extended his hand for her to take, the grin never leaving his face.        She gave him a big, relieved smile. “I’m Y/N.”        Ever since then they were not only lab partners in classes they shared (which was biology, physics and math), but also in mischief. Together they managed to enrage Anne, annoy Gemma and absolutely horrify Y/M/N, and whenever one went down, the other made sure to go down as well.        So when a few years down the line, Harry had told Y/N about his idea to audition for X-factor she wasn’t surprised one bit.        “I mean, as long as you don’t trip and break your nose on stage, you’ll be fine.”        For that, she received a slap on her arm from him.        “I’m just saying!” Y/N defended herself. “You’re great at singing, Mrs Aberdeen certainly thinks so, you don’t have two complete left feet, and you’re alright to look at.”        That for the first time since the decision and application had been submitted, made Harry smile. He loved how easily Y/N was able to lighten the mood, to take his thoughts away from the bad, and just erase them with her wit and smile.
       “Besides.” She nudged his shoulder with hers and then intertwined their fingers. “I, Gem and our Mums will be right there for you. Won’t even blink until the end of the performance.”        With how her insides trembled in excitement and fear for her best friend, it truly seemed to Y/N she hadn’t blinked at all on that fateful day. Her breath hitched when the judges were talking. She couldn’t even remember what they said, all of it turning into white noise.        And then he got through, and Y/N screamed so much she was sure she’d blown out Anne’s eardrums, and had hugged Harry so tightly she was afraid she’d broken a rib. But with his victory also came a fear, because, for the first time in Y/N’s life, she was terrified as to where she’d stand in Harry’s. Since day one it’d been secure, but now, with the newfound fame of X-factor and who knows what kind of an amazing future, she didn’t know if he’d throw her to the curb, simply forget about the mundane friend from high school or maybe use her for something.        But it wasn’t like that. Not one bit. After insane hours of rehearsals, Y/N was one of the three people he always called. It was her, his Mum and Gem. Always. And he loved to listen to her speaking of what was happening at school, how the lessons were, which teacher turned out to be hooking up with which. As much as Harry knew he was made for the extraordinary, he loved the ordinary Y/N brought in his life. She was his safe harbour. But what he never agreed with were her own thoughts she was meant for a simple life, so he took it upon himself to bring a little bit of eccentricity in hers, as he explained how he’d gotten united into a band with four other boys, now going by ‘One Direction’, and it was his mission to join his newfound friends with the most important friend he'd had.        “This is Y/N,” Harry introduced her to the guys after one of their late-night practices, one where they weren’t being filmed. “If you do anything that even mildly upsets her, I’ll kill you in your sleep.”        The slap against his arm made him let out an ‘Ow!’ while the rest of the boys laughed and welcomed her with open arms.        In a weird way, Y/N became part of the band. She didn’t sing or play any instruments, but she was always around, gave her input on songs and setlists. That kind of closeness made all of the fears and doubts about losing a place in Harry’s life disappear. She was his personal hype-man while at the same time knocked him down a few pegs whenever the fame started to get to his head.        She was there for his highs and lows, for the break-ups and break-off in the band, and watched as he ventured into a solo career as much as she could with school and all, but when summer break rolled around it was like Harry couldn't get rid of her even if he tried. Not that he wanted. Sharing the success and happiness with his best friend was one of the biggest rewards he could have.        And Y/N would never admit it because it’d boost Harry’s already elephant-like ego, at least that’s what she said, but she kind of liked the attention she received because of him, especially because most of it was pleasant.        Had she been terrified that being known as Harry Styles best friend would make people think she was just a gold-digger, seeking fame and leeching it off from him? Yes. And there were people like that. But ninety-five percent of what people said on her social media accounts was actually nice, some even said ‘thank you’ that there was a person like her in Harry’s life to keep things real, and most importantly – cared about him through it all.        Harry also saw those comments; he loved to read about how people saw just how much Y/N cared, and it kind of stirred something in him. He didn’t know when exactly, but it was around the age of twenty-four for him and twenty-three for Y/N when he started looking at his friend in a different light. And it bloody terrified him. He didn’t know if she felt the same, and the thought of putting his heart on the line like that only for the possibility of it being crushed was the scariest thing ever.        He did, however, have an inclination as to what incident had prompted them to surface. The feelings that were. It was a night after a party. Y/N was on winter break from her master’s at uni, which meant he used every opportunity to spend time with her.        The hangover was real, I mean it’s what you got by mixing vodka, tequila and beer into an empty Sprite bottle and chugging it. Harry stumbled over sleeping bodies on his way to the kitchen in search for some leftover pizza he was sure he and Y/N in their drunkenness had ordered, as well as to make two cups of black coffee. He knew she hated the taste, but cold junk food and bitter coffee always did the trick with her. That was when he’d found her.        Although he’d woken up in Y/N’s room, she hadn’t been next to him. Instead, as it turned out, she’d gone on a food search sometime before him and had passed out on the couch, a Cookie Monster onesie on her body, but most importantly his signature pearls around her neck. And one of her hands even rested against her collarbone, as if scared someone would take them away from her.        That’d been the first time his heart had flipped in his chest at the sight of her, but most definitely not the last.        He did however keep this change in his emotions to himself. He wasn’t really sure what it was, so it would be unfair to dump that on Y/N and have her figure it out for him because he didn’t know where she stood on her own, let alone do the work for him.        Luckily, despite the tornado of feelings, their friendship didn’t falter, and when his Vogue cover came out, he was incredibly nervous for people to see it, but especially for those who mattered the most to him, like his Mum, sister and Y/N. Especially Y/N, for her opinion had become the most important one outside his blood relatives. After all, all his thoughts went to – if we dated, would she be as proud of me as she was of me as a friend?        Her support meant the most because he was away in the middle of filming; he had no way of getting physical comfort, so all of the messages, calls, social media posts and FaceTimes was the world to him, especially when Y/N sent a picture of herself with three copies of the magazine, two beside her head as she laid on her bed and one clutched to her chest, which she also posted on Instagram with the caption ‘Can’t hug you for real right now, so this will have to do. When I do get to you @harrystyles, I’ll crush your ribs with my love. And that is a threat.’        Then the comments came in from the rest, and one stood out more than the others.        Bring Back Manly Men.        At first, he felt odd about it. It didn’t really bother him, but at the same time, it made him sad. He knew that he was seen as somewhat of a controversial figure, as he painted nails, wore frilly blouses and now full-on dresses, which were all typically categorized as feminine things, but he never understood why a nail colour or the shape of a shirt suddenly became exclusively for just one gender. Which is why he was so grateful to have Y/N in his life.        “I mean, anatomically speaking, men should be wearing dresses and women trousers. It’s you who have all the dangly bits,” she said through a bite of food. “The Scots have been onto it since the beginning.”        Harry threw his head back in a laugh, shifting an arm behind his head. “So I assume your favourite pic is the one in the kilt?”        “Well, it did remind me of that awful punk phase I had back in school with all those safety pins, only in a more tasteful way, but no. My favourite one is you in that brown, grey off-shoulder jacket thing.”        “Why?”        Y/N wiggled her brows at him. “Shows enough of your cleavage but leaves enough for imagination.”        “Of fucking course.” Harry snorted, shaking his head. “Objectifying much?”        “What? I’m not going to deny that my best friend is a sexy beast.”        He wouldn’t say it out loud, but when she called him her friend, it made his heart clench in a painful way. Harry had been trying to be a bit flirtier around her, but given his open nature as it was, Y/N hadn’t seemed to notice it, nor had she seemed to notice how he looked at her while she was frowning at her computer screen.        Harry’d had relationships with some women who could be considered the most beautiful in the world, but if he’d had to say, in his opinion, who��d receive that title, it’d be Y/N. The way she snorted when she laughed too hard, the way small crow lines had already appeared next to her eyes from how much she smiled and the way her forehead creased when she was concentrating. It enthralled him to no end. He could read her life’s story on her face, how she’d lived and thought and experienced, unlike so many people he met who couldn’t move a muscle.        Though the reason she was so concentrated in that moment was because thousands of people had tagged her in a tweet of a woman, she’d heard of for the first time in her life (because Harry had been trying to keep that one off her radar), and what she saw made all the blood boil in her body more than any other hate comment had.        Without hesitation, Y/N atted her and tweeted “Bring back manly men. Please! Millions of people would let him raw them WHILE WEARING THE DRESS. I mean you tried, so I’ll give you the gold star you so desperately want, but that was pathetic.”        At that same moment, a notification popped up on the screen of Harry’s phone. He only had notifications on for one person, and when he saw what was written, he gasped, looking at Y/N. “You did not just do that!”        “What?” Y/N shrugged biting down on the chocolate bar she’d been savouring for the last half hour of their conversation. “I just said what everyone was thinking. Besides what the fuck does ‘bring back manly men’ even mean? Go chop some wood? Fight a bear in the Siberian woods? Have your ‘friends’ stab you to death at a political meeting?”        “You’re a menace.”        Y/N winked popping the last bit of the chocolate in her mouth. “Only to those who dare go for the people I love.”        His heart fluttered at the last word, but all he could do was mask it with a large grin and shake of his head.        For another hour they spent talking, Y/N kept hyping Harry up, tried to get as many plot details of the movie he was filming, while he avoided as many spoilers as possible and attempted to steer the conversation somewhere else, but when that happened, Y/N jumped onto his music, which he had told her all about. In fact, there wasn’t a music video made without her approval, and neither would his next one be. “You’ll fly out to see me film for ‘Treat People With Kindness’, right?”        Y/N sighed, giving him a sad smile. She hated disappointing Harry. “I’d love to. But you know with everything going on, I don’t think I’ll be able to.”        “Phoebe Waller-Bridge will be in it.”        She gasped, in real excitement. “Well, why didn’t you say so from the start?!”        “So that’s what this friendship has come to. I’m just your gateway to celebrities?”        “Harry you’ve always been just my gateway to the people living in LaLa Land.” But she let out a small breath much like she’d done before. “I really do want to come, Harry. You know that; I miss you like crazy. But Phoebe or no Phoebe, I don’t think I can.”        Harry bit his lip nodding, but he still needed to try one more time. “Is there anything I can say or do to get you here?”        “Get me a private jet and a quarantine mansion?”        “Deal.”        “Woah! Wait!” Y/N pretty much jumped up from her position in bed. “That was a joke! Harry Edward Styles, I swear to God, if you try an –“        But with a giant grin, he just blew Y/N a kiss and ended the call.        She was quite terrified if she was being honest, that Harry would do what she’d asked. He already had once. It'd been around Christmas time while she was still in First Year at uni, and she’d seen a glistening necklace at a jewellery store display. She hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even uttered a word, but just seeing the sparkle in Y/N’s eyes, was enough for Harry to make the decision and gift it for her.        When the next day, around five AM her time, she got a call from Harry’s manager Jeff, she was ready to rip both of them a new one, an e-mail with a plane ticket popping up in her inbox.        “I swear I’ll poison your drinks when I see you,” she’d grumbled, but couldn’t hide the excitement as she threw everything she could in the suitcase. “And no one will find your bodies, mark my words, Azoff.”        He snorted. “Yeah, tell that to the FBI agent listening in on this call.”        “Fuck. Gave myself away,” she said softly, giggling right after.        “You know he’s stoked beyond belief.” Jeff piped up. “He literally jumped out of the bed this morning, and during the dance rehearsals he didn’t miss a step.”        That made Y/N’s heart warm. “Well, you can tell him to curb it a bit. Otherwise, I’ll just stay at the fucking mansion – which, by the way, it was a joke, Jeff! I’m pissed enough he’s spending money on me as it is, let alone such a chunk on the plane, you didn't have to get me an actual mansion.”        “You know, for you, he’d give away all of it.”        “Yes, well, he might need it for his funeral, if he keeps spending it on me and on shit like this.”        The man shook his head but didn’t say anything else. He wasn’t the only one trying to drop hints to Y/N that Harry felt something more, but he’d leave it to the man himself. He didn’t need to possibly ruin everything, and have her decide not to come. His client was nightmare enough without her around, because Harry was like day and night when Y/N finally arrived on set for ‘Treat People With Kindness’.        To say he enveloped her in a hug would be an understatement as he didn’t let go of her for ten solid minutes, having grabbed her by the underside of the thighs and sat down on the ground just so he could prolong the feeling of being with Y/N.        The fact that she’d actually gone for it and hadn’t scolded Harry too much for spending that insane amount of money, for having brought a small piece of home to LA with herself where they were filming, made him now fully acknowledge the true extent of his feelings, especially as she didn’t pull away from their embrace, rather hid her face in the crook of his neck.        I mean, in the end, he did have to let her go because everyone had to get back to shooting, but not before Y/N had stripped the meticulous jacket from him, and went to have a glance at herself in the large mirror, one of the costume designers playing along and adjusting the clothing on her body, as if she was going to be the one performing.        Harry felt someone slide up to him and he looked over to his left, a smiling Phoebe standing there. She nudged his shoulder with hers. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”        He nodded, looking back over to where Y/N was still looking at herself in the mirror, wearing the heavy jacket as if it was nothing like it was made for her. “I’m a cliché, I know. But I can’t help it.”        “Of course, you can.” She squeezed his side. “All you gotta do is tell her.”        But it wasn’t that easy. Comparatively, getting Y/N to appear in the video was easier than coming to terms with the fact, all they’d ever remain would be friends if he didn’t do anything.        Yet the shoot for the video ended as quickly as it had started, and Y/N needed to fly back to the UK to defend her PhD paper, and Harry had to go back to filming ‘Don’t Worry Darling’, thousands of miles stretching between them once more. And Harry was a romantic, he couldn’t confess over FaceTime. Besides, he wanted to make it a special evening for her, plan something out, rather than risk a shitty connection cutting him off mid-word.        He hated it though. It’d been almost four years since Harry had realised his feelings had developed from just friendly into romantic, and still, he hadn’t said anything. Even the people who’d never met Y/N in person like Florence Pugh saw what was going on.        But unlike the cast and crew of ‘Treat People With Kindness’ who had to deal with his pining for maybe a couple of weeks, it’d been almost half a year for her at that point. Did she just want to call Y/N and tell her how Harry felt? Sure. She’d had enough of him coming into her trailer only to fall down onto her pillow and whine. But it wasn’t her place. So instead, she was going to figure out a way to get Y/N to the set and make him tell her himself.        Getting Harry’s phone away from him should’ve been the inspiration to the next ‘Mission Impossible’ script though, because it took her literally a whole day to fish it out from his coat's pocket, and she only had about ten seconds to find Y/N’s number (which wasn’t that hard given how it was the number with literally hundreds of calls next to it) and put it in her own phone.        Once their filming was done for the day, Florence rebutted Harry’s invitation to a movie night, saying a massive headache was coming on, so he wished her a good night and with slumped shoulders went to sulk on his own. Which is why she practically sprinted to her own trailer to finally call Y/N        An unsure ‘hello?’ greeted her ears before she responded. “Hey, this is Florence… Pugh.”        That stunned Y/N into silence for a few seconds before she spluttered out a greeting and said ‘hi’ as well. “Not to be rude, but how did you get my number?”        “Stole it from Harry’s phone. Look, he’s miserable. Keeps moping around, and I can’t take it anymore. Last night I found him crying in his pillow with your shirt over it.”        “What? Why?”        “Because it didn’t smell like you anymore.”        Y/N’s heart broke. “Why didn’t he tell me anything? We just talked, and he said he was fine. God, that man is so dumb sometimes.”        “Is there any way you could find a way to get here?” Florence asked biting down her lip.        She heard Y/N sigh at the other end of the line. “I’ll – I’ll try and figure something out. Have to know what’s going on at work, I mean it has been like two months since the video, so maybe…” She was more so talking to herself, but then remembered about Florence. “Listen, can I give you a message when I find out if my boss will let me?”        “Of course!” The actress was excited about the possibility of Y/N getting here, as long as it got Harry out of his depressive mood.        “Oh, and I’ll need to know what kind of restrictions are on set. I’ll figure something out with flights and quarantine, but I have zero clue as to what’s it like where you’re filming.”        Florence waved her off, even though she couldn’t see the motion. “Leave that to me. Just get your ass over here before the guy cries himself dry.”        It was a struggle though on all three ends – Harry was still moping, because not only had Y/N’s shirt lost its smell of her, but homesickness was hitting full force, Florence was getting more and more desperate as she attempted to take his mind off of things, but nothing seemed to work, and Y/N was trying to get on any possible flight to Harry while arranging two tests and an AirBnB she could self-isolate in for two weeks while attempting to set up her work from afar at the same time.        Two days after Florence’s call, Y/N sent her a message ‘Flying in tomorrow at 4 AM. Don’t tell Harry. He’ll feel even shittier cause I have to stay alone in quarantine. First test came back negative.”        She sighed in relief at the message and immediately texted back ‘i’ve got you a set pass ready, just need a picture. selfie will do. also, masks are mandatory on the lot, so bring those.’        Immediately Y/N sent a thumbs up, and a picture of herself she didn’t absolutely despise to be used on the ID card. All that was left was to pack. And spend two weeks in an attempt of not going crazy with anticipation before seeing Harry.        Those two weeks turned out to be worse than the two months between the music video shoot and going to the filming lot. Because throughout then, Y/N knew her only access to him would be through FaceTime, but to be about twenty minutes away from the man without the ability to touch him was pure torture, but at least Harry seemed completely oblivious to the change in her surroundings.        As they still continued on with their calls, not once did he mention her background, or how the paintings suddenly had managed to switch positions or the fact that Y/N didn’t even own paintings. She was sure she could’ve been missing an arm, and he wouldn’t have mentioned it with how tired he looked.        “Have you even slept, Har?”        “Not really,” he groaned, getting more comfortable in his bed. “We’ve had a bunch of early shoots and then late nights, ‘cause we need to get the continuity for the scenes, and then the day’s full of Zoom calls, and well, I can’t not call you.”        Y/N scoffed, scolding him. “You know damn well I won’t be offended if we sacrifice a couple of calls for you to get some proper sleep.”        “I know, but I will.”        Y/N sighed, knowing in a way it was her fault. She could tell him she no longer was hours of time zones away, but rather watched the same sunset and sunrise as him, but she also knew Harry, and he would be unable to stay away from her until her quarantine was over.        She was quite happy she’d sat through the fourteen mandatory days, because when she got on set, even though Harry was usually good at keeping his composure during a scene, despite the mask, he’d recognise Y/N anywhere, and all of the lines flew out of his head.        “Jack?” Florence’s hand came to cup Harry’s cheek, trying to bring him back on track. “You alright?”        But he didn’t even care about improvising to get out of the flub as his lips were split apart by a grin, and he dashed away, a loud ‘CUT!’ ringing throughout the set, but Harry already had Y/N in his arms, spinning the girl around.        “Best friends my ass,” Florence murmured as she went to the two.        Harry was speechless, Y/N’s face in between his hands as he looked her up and down. “How are you here? What? Why?”        “Thank Florence.” Y/N gave an attempt at motioning to the actress with her head. She set the whole thing up.”        Harry’s head whipped to his scene partner. “You knew Y/N was here for two weeks and told me nothing?”        “Your brain short-circuited when you saw her! You wouldn’t be of no use on set at all if I had.”        Harry scoffed, throwing an arm over Y/N’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get away from this meanie.” But as he walked away, he looked over his shoulder and mouthed a grateful ‘thank you’ to her.        All Florence could hope for was that he’d get it together and confess, but it didn’t seem like he was in any sort of a rush. Y/N was set to be there for three weeks, but the thought of the woman leaving without knowing how Harry felt, leaving him in a sea of his own heartache, made her miserable, especially after a night they’d all spent together.        Harry really wanted Y/N to get to know the people he worked with so he invited the ones closest to him for a movie night, during which he himself had been the first one to actually fall asleep, of course.        For most of it, as ‘Westworld’ ran on in the background, he spent curled up in Y/N’s lap, his head resting against her chest with her fingers weaving through the shortened locks. She had to get used to the length, motion automatically wanting to go on longer than it was possible to. Soon enough, the soothing motions lulled her to sleep as well, their bodies leaning into one another and perfectly fitting together.        As tired as Florence was of seeing Harry, a person who’d become her friend now pine for someone so hard, it was absolutely heart-melting to watch the two interact. Everyone could see Y/N had the same feelings as Harry did for her, only she hid them a bit better. A little, but not by a lot.        No friends acted the way those two did around one another. Sure, people could be touchy, but not like that, not with such intimacy behind the motions. She felt like she was being a little creepy as she pulled out her phone to take a picture, but it was too cute not to.        A loud noise from somewhere outside set made Y/N shoot up straight, and Florence held her breath as she clutched onto her phone, having swiped it accidentally into video mode and filming the whole thing.        “No,” Harry whined, a hand reaching up for Y/N and grabbing at her elbow. “Come back. ‘S too early.”        She just nodded, grumbling something unintelligible but possibly along the lines of ‘don’t make me throw hands’ before laying down and snuggling into Harry’s chest.        Florence let out a large sigh of relief and decided to get some sleep as well before their annoying four AM alarm woke them up for set.        This time it was the other way around, as Y/N whined for Harry to ‘come back and keep her warm’.        Florence watched as Harry slipped out of Y/N’s grasp, but not before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead and a whispered a promise to ‘see her when the Sun’s up’. The second the trailer door was closed, she slapped his shoulder, and Harry gasped in shock. “What'dya do that for?”        “Stop that! Stop that stupid dance!” She stomped her foot on the ground. “I’m sick and tired of watching you watch her with that dumb longing expression on your face. I can’t take it anymore. Why do you think I went through all that trouble to get her here?”        “I told you I would!”        She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I know it’s not my place or anything, but she does like you. A lot.”        Harry threw her an uncertain gaze. “And how do you know?”        “Because that woman spent two weeks in self-isolation just to see you! She’s gone through how many of those awful Covid tests just to go and visit you! She’s dropped everything for you, has supported you through so much, and never fails to boost you up.”        “That’s what friends do.”        “No.” Florence shook her head. “That kind of loyalty… that’s what people in love give. I haven’t talked to my best friend in like a month. What’s the longest you’ve gone without speaking to Y/N?”        And with that question, she left Harry to ponder not only his feelings but the girl’s he was in love with as well. Because if he had to be honest, the reason he’d been dragging everything out, the reason he’d stayed pining for Y/N for years on end was that he tried to write everything she did off as something a childhood best friend would do.        The truth was more terrifying than anything because once that came to light, it’d change everything, and Harry didn’t know if he was ready. He wanted it, desperately so if it meant Y/N becoming someone he could love freely and openly, but not if by the end of it, she'd disappear from his life, leaving a hole the size of his heart in his chest.        His thoughts were cut short as someone knocked on the ‘Hair&Make-up’ door, and an assistant let in a pouting Y/N. Well, he couldn’t’ see the pout behind the mask, but he definitely knew it was there, making a smile come on his own face.        She plopped down in an empty sofa and crossed her arms. “I was cold.”        Harry snorted, wanting to shake his head, but didn't as to not ruin the hair stylist’s work. “You’re always cold.”        “And you’re a living furnace.”        “ ‘S that why you like cuddling? Leeching off my warmth?”        The same assistant who’d let Y/N in handed her a cup of coffee, which she was ready to kiss the woman for, but opted for a ‘thank you’. “We’ve established I only use you to get to other celebs. What makes you think I wouldn’t use you for those sort of things.”        For a moment, the trailer settled into silence, as Y/N enjoyed her morning coffee while the crew kept doing their own work.        “It’s so weird,” Y/N piped up, eyes racking up and down Harry’s body. “Don’t even wanna really look at you like that.”        He let out a mock gasp of hurt. “What d’ya mean? Am I suddenly repulsive to you?”        “No!” she let out a laugh. “It’s just odd seeing you without the tattoos. They’re such a huge part of you, even the dumb ones. Can’t really imagine you any differently.”        “Would you love me any differently without them?” The question was bold, even though he knew she did love him, he had to start making moves.        “No,” Y/N shook her head. “I don’t think so. I believe I’d be a different person then as well, but I’d love you all the same. As long as you’d do the same with me.”        Harry nodded looking down at his hands then back up at her, catching her eyes through the reflection in the mirror. “Don’t think there’s a dimension out there where I don’t love you.”        “I mean that is a bold statement,” Y/N said, sipping on the remnants of her coffee. “What if I’m like a weird, cat-skinning psychopath in one dimension? Would you love me even then?”        “Jesus Christ, Y/L/N, do you just normally come up with those gruesome scenarios or is it a hobby?”        She wiggled her eyebrows, standing up and throwing away the paper cup. “There’s a reason I have a VPN and clean my search history. I’ll see you in your trailer?”        “Yeah.” Harry nodded and smiled. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”        The next half-hour he kept hyping himself up, about how he was actually going to do it, but Florence intercepted him right as he was turning down the way his trailer stood. “How are you gonna do it?”        “I – “ Harry huffed and placed his hands on his hips. “In the beginning, I had like a whole romantic outing planned, but… I’ve dragged this on long enough, so I think I’ll just tell her.”        “Okay, good.” Florence nodded and slapped his shoulder in approval. “And if I don’t hear that trailer rocking, I will throw you in a ditch.”        Harry’s eyes widened at the statement, fully knowing she meant her words, but she was already half-way down the track, blond hair swishing behind her back.        It was then or never.        Slowly he opened his own trailer door as if it was Y/N’s place not his, but by the looks of how she’d sprawled out on his bed, she had made herself right at home. Just like she’d done it on the first day of school, but just with his heart.        “Hey!” She smiled looking at him. “You ready to film?”        “Yeah, but umm… I kind of wanted to talk to you beforehand.”        Y/N’s brows furrowed at Harry’s serious tone, so she sat up, nodding. “Sure. Is everything alright?” “It’s nothing bad, at least I hope you won’t take it in a bad way... I’ve actually been wanting to tell you this since that winter’s break party you had while doing your masters...” He let out a small chuckle but seeing Y/N’s eyes widen in a panic he stopped. “Oh, God,” she moaned. “You have a kid! Oh my God.” “What? No!” Harry spluttered. “Why the hell is the first thing you assume that I have a kid?” “I don’t know!” She was now standing facing him completely. “We’ve never had secrets between us, especially for as long as you’ve apparently kept them, what am I supposed to think? Maybe one of the girls you hooked up with got pregnant, and you’ve been hiding the fact you’re a baby daddy because you know I wouldn’t be able to keep the fact I can be the cool drunk aunt to myself.” All of that came out as is she’d prepared it ages ago. “Well, no.” Harry shook his head stepping closer so he could be chest to chest with Y/N. “I’m not anyone’s baby daddy. At least I don’t think so, but umm... when that moment would come... when I have a kid...” He looked up at the ceiling and sighed before lifting a gentle hand to cup her cheek. I wouldn’t want you to be the drunk aunt. I um...” There goes nothing. “I’d kinda like if you were the mom.” “Of course, I’ll be the Godmother!” Both of them said at the same time, making the other’s brain stumble over the words said. “Wait, mom?” Y/N’s question was breathless. “Like donate my eggs or some shit?” “No like, I’ve been in love with you for close to four years, and I wanna try and build a future with you, where you’re more than just my best friend.”        “Oh.”        That was all that managed to escape her mouth as he fully opened his heart, and Harry couldn’t lie – it shattered. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it was more than that. “That’s...” Y/N huffed sitting down on the bed. “That’s a lot to take in Harry. Like a lot.” “I know.” He sighed and sat down next to her. “Which is why I’ve been pushing this away for as long as I could, but... it was time. It wasn’t fair to you or me to keep on living like that. Look.” Harry took her palm in his. “Whatever you want us to be, we’ll be that. I - I mean I’ll be heartbroken if you say you don’t feel the same, but no matter what you tell me now, I won’t let you leave my life. I love you, and I’m in love with you. This is your choice which way you chose to go with.” Y/N shook her head, interlacing their fingers and finally looking up at him. “I don’t want you to be heartbroken. It’s the last thing, I’d ever want to see you like. And umm well, if it takes me using the pair of ovaries I have to admit I’ve been in love with you too to change that, I guess I’ll have to say it. I’m in love with you too.” Harry’s eyes glimmered with unshed tears of happiness, as he looked at Y/N like she’d hung the stars in the sky. Not that it mattered. He always looked at her like that. “You mean it?” “Yeah,” she chuckled, wiping away a few stray pearls from her own cheeks. “I guess I always thought I’d end up the drunk aunt in your life, so that’s why I thought you’d ask me to be whatever future child’s Godmother. But I love you, and I’m in love with you too.” “Can I – “ Fuck, Harry was too giddy for his own good. “Can I kiss you?” And when Y/N chuckled, nodding he swore he already was in heaven. “Yes, please.”        At first, the touch of his lips was gentle, almost afraid, but the second he pressed them to Y/N’s, and she gasped at the sensation, it became full of lust as passion, years of pent-up pining and angst and just plain old stupidity surfacing and morphing itself into a steamy make-out session.        In a split second, she was sprawled out on Harry’s bed, his toned body leaning over hers and teasing hands moving along her sides, making her squirm and ache for more of his touch, but she wasn’t the only one who wanted to explore a body with a new mindset of what was possible.        As Y/N moaned from Harry’s tongue invading her mouth, her hand couldn’t help itself as it slid down his chest, and her finger flicked against the button of his trousers.        “Can I touch you there?” Y/N whispered against his mouth, and Harry eagerly nodded.        “Please. Been dreaming about this for literally years.”        Smiling, she allowed him to continue and explore her mouth with his tongue, intoxicated on one another’s taste. In fact, Y/N was so far gone just from the kiss, she forgot how a fly worked and needed Harry’s help to open it.        “Get back here,” she grumbled as he chuckled, having leaned up a bit to make it easier for her to get the offensive piece of clothing off. “We’ll see how you fare with a bra.”        “Oh, I’m an expert.” His hands trailed to her shoulder where he snapped one of the straps against her skin, making her yelp.        “You do not want to do that when my hand is an inch away from your dick.”        But the threat had no merit to it, as she dipped her palm behind Harry’s boxers while his mouth went to soothe the sting and leave a little mark on her skin, which he’d get to admire later on.        The second, Y/N wrapped her hand around his cock an involuntary moan escaped into the air, as she gripped him. Fuck, she couldn’t wait until he was inside her, because, and it might sound a little cliché given how they were best friends who’d fallen in love with one another, but she was one hundred percent sure, he was made exactly for her.        But no matter how much she twisted her hand or how gently or roughly she rubbed the tip, he couldn’t get hard, and Harry was on the verge of tears, which Y/N saw and instantly pulled away, cupping his face.        “I’m sorry,” he choked out. “Fuck, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”        “Hey!” Y/N cooed. “None of that. It’s alright. Shit happens.”        Harry nodded understanding that she was right, but he still felt shitty and well, he felt insecure about it. “I just. Fuck. Usually, when I think of you, I’m hard in like a second.”        And although all Y/N wanted to do was smirk and tease him about the fact that he thought of her while wanking himself off, that wasn’t the right moment.        “I promise, you turn me on, you do." He sniffled. "This had never happened before.” But Y/N wasn’t offended or sad, and her laugh wasn’t mocking or trying to hurt him.        “Harry you’re dead tired.” She cupped his cheek with one of her hands, and if he’d been ice cream he would’ve literally melted. “You had to wake up at four in the fucking morning and won’t go to sleep until two the next day. Let yourself rest a bit.”        “But,” he whined and then huffed. “But I wanna love on you. Wanna show you just how crazy I am about you.”        “And you will. You know I’ll always hold you to your word. But this won’t be fun for either of us if mid-fuck you suddenly collapse on me asleep. I don’t need to go to the A and E and explain the broken nose is because my boyfriend decided to take a nap while shagging. A nap on my face.”        But Harry hadn’t really heard anything she’d said after Y/N mentioned the b-word, a dopey smile on his face. “I’m your boyfriend? You really want me like that?”        “I mean I would prefer if you were Phoebe…”        Harry pinched her side, making her squeal before tackling her in a hug. “Shut up!”        And that’s how the two fell asleep (and were woken up twenty minutes later by an assistant in a panic given how Harry was supposed to be on set in five minutes)  – wrapped up in one another’s arms, smiles on their faces, and no longer best friends, but lovers.
Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):
Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh​ @breezy1415​ @crazy--me​ @thatawkwardlittlefangirl​ @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​ @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91​ @dalilx​ @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash​ @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​
Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​
A/N: I loved writing this so much :)
P.S. my tags are always open
P.S.S. I don’t take requests, sorry. Also, please don’t repost my story on other platforms (wattpad etc) without specific written permission. 
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wondernimbus · 4 years
Text
meet the weasleys — george weasley
pairing: george weasley x female!reader
summary: george takes reader to meet his family.
requests are closed for now. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!
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"I’m nervous."
"Well, don't be."
"Thank you, George. That somehow just alleviated all of my worries."
George snickers and squeezes her hand in reassurance. “Just relax. My family doesn't bite—or, well, Ron used to, but that was back when he was, what, five? And besides, you already know him, and he's never bit you before, has he?"
"Not helping."
"And you've met most of my family already."
“I haven't met your mum. Or your dad. Or Bill and Charlie,” she argues, eyes worriedly darting from George’s own to the wooden door in front of them.
George laughs again. His eyes don’t fail to catch onto the way she’s frantically tapping her foot against the ground, how she keeps worrying at her bottom lip. The sight has him grinning widely; he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t horribly endeared.
“Listen,” he says, removing his fingers from her own in favor of turning her around to face him. George’s hands go to her neck, cradling the sides of her cheeks. “They’re going to love you. And if they don’t—well, I can always find a different family.”
”George,” she sighs.
”Only joking,” he grins, and leans in to press a very brief kiss to the tip of her nose. “But I mean it. They’ll adore you. Possibly even more than I do, although that’s up for debate.”
She lets out a long breath, pursing her lips together in a feeble attempt at a smile, but George commends her for trying. He drops his hands back to his sides and laces his fingers through her own again, turning to face the door like they’re about to venture into some sort of grand adventure and not into his family’s living room—and George is about to twist open the knob, until [Y/N] goes, “Wait.”
He glances at her. Her eyes are wide and the look on her face still so uncertain. Sucking in a breath through her teeth, she asks him, “How do I look?”
The grin on George’s face is so impossibly wide. “Like a billion galleons,” he tells her. Just because he can’t resist the urge, he swoops down to press one more chaste kiss to her lips. And then finally, he twists the knob.
The moment George steps foot through the door, he’s immediately enveloped by the wafting scent of something being cooked on the stove. It smells familiar, like he should know what it is, but George has never been much of a chef. But he recognizes the sounds—the voices—coming from the kitchen despite all of them mingling together to form one raucous chorus of chatter. He knows exactly which voice belongs to who—knows that the loud shriek is his mum reprimanding one of them, knows that the sound of someone whining is very likely Ron. That laugh is Bill’s, too, mingled with Fred’s voice. George just knows, automatically, without even having to think about it. George knows, too, without looking down on the “welcome” mat in front of the door, that there are going to be muddy boots on top it—and there they are. He steps around them. George knows that there is going to be a quilt magically knitting itself together on the couch without even having to look at it—and there it is.
And just like that, he knows he’s home.
Something about having [Y/N] in the vicinity of a place so important to him—a place that’s part of him—has his heart feeling full. He pauses for a moment in the doorway, taking it all in, but he’s snapped out of his brief spell of inexplicable happiness when his father comes lumbering out of the door leading to the kitchen.
“George!” his dad exclaims loudly, and just like that all chatter from the room behind him ceases (“They’re here?!” he hears his mother panic). “We didn’t hear you come in!”
”Likely because mum was too busy screaming,” George grins, and walks forward to envelop his father in a hug.
”Ah, yes—Fred arrived half an hour ago and terrified Ron out of his wits with some sort of fake—no, actually, nevermind that! This must be [Y/N].”
Arthur’s eyes have landed on her, and George actually has to give her a little nudge for her to say something. Her eyes widen like she’s surprised at being addressed (as though the entire point of this gathering hadn’t been to get to introduce her), but then her lips break out into a smile and she steps forward to shake his father’s outstretched hand.
”It’s really nice to meet you,” she says, eyes crinkling at the edges. George stands to the side watching the scene unfold, feeling oddly proud.
”Yes, of course!” Arthur nods with remarkable enthusiasm, smiling just as wide. “I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you! You’re Muggle-born, correct?”
She lets out a tinkling laugh. “Yes, that’s right.”
”Brilliant!” he claps his hands together—but George knows exactly where this is going, so he cuts his father off and says, “I think we can address the function of a rubber duck later over dinner, dad.”
Arthur pauses, seemingly dejected, but then gathers himself and nods. “Oh, right, well, I suppose—“
”[Y/N]!”
And there’s George’s mum, Molly, coming from the kitchen, hurriedly pulling off her oven mitts to rush straight towards [Y/N] and envelop her in a big, warm hug. “Oh!” [Y/N] exclaims, obviously taken a bit by surprise given that the two of them have never met before, but eventually she breaks out into light laughs and hugs her back. [Y/N] meets George’s gaze over Molly’s shoulder; he gives her this encouraging sort of smile, and then jokingly complains, ”Blimey. S’pose I’m not missed here anymore.”
”Oh, quiet, you!” Molly frets, waving a dismissive hand in the air (George laughs) and then pulling away from [Y/N] to grip her by the arms and gush, “You’re far prettier than I could have ever imagined!”
[Y/N] flushes a shade of vibrant pink. “Oh, no—but thank you—“
”Have you gotten your vision checked lately, [Y/N]?” It’s Fred, leaning on the kitchen doorframe with a toy snake dangling from his hand. “Or do you really want to be with Georgey despite his baffling similarities to a mountain troll?"
”We’re twins, you prat.” George smacks the back of Fred’s head.
“Ah, right.” Fred is grinning despite having received a blow to the head. “It’s lovely seeing you, future-sister-in-law.”
Fred and [Y/N] have known each other just as long as she and George have, having gone to Hogwarts at the same time all those years ago. All three of them had bonded over their mutual love for pranks, although [Y/N] had always been their babysitter of sorts—the one who made sure none of their jokes went too far out of line. George loved her for it; loved how considerate and gentle she was despite her undeniable mischief. But he’d only really gotten himself to tell her after the war; one brief visit of hers to the joke shop turned into two, and then three, and then suddenly [Y/N] was always hanging around somewhere in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, helping the business run along. It was Fred who convinced George, only six months ago, to confess his admiration for her after five years of holding himself back.
After the war, George had all the time in the world to take as many risks as he could. So he told her—and now here they are: [Y/N] ruffling Fred’s hair fondly, George trying to fend off his mother’s hands trying to fix his hair (“don’t you think you need a haircut, sweetie?”), and Ron making his grand entrance from behind Fred.
”Ron!” [Y/N] exclaims, catching sight of him, and then jokingly she adds, “I haven’t seen you in ages—last time I saw you you were the size of a Pygmy Puff.”
Ron scoffs out a laugh. “You’re only two years older than me, you know,” he huffs, but lets her hug him, anyway.
Brief introductions are made as Bill and Charlie enter the room. George watches as [Y/N] shakes their hands—Charlie hugs her, as he’s always been big on affection—and just like that George knows that she’s won all of them over, the way she’d done to him. The way she still does to him, after all this time.
Five minutes later they're being ushered into the garden behind the Burrow, where a long wooden table has been set up. There are golden streamers draped all around the bushes and hanging from the branches of trees, but that's hardly what captures George and [Y/N]'s attention first because at the very end of the long table, a large banner is floating in mid-air: one that says "WELCOME TO THE FAMILY!" in glittering silver letters.
George doesn't miss the look on [Y/N]'s face when she sees this; her eyes almost seem to well up with tears, and despite the picture-perfect setting in front of him—despite the golden streamers and the balloons and the faerie lights hanging in mid-air—it's that look on [Y/N]'s face that has his breath catching in his throat and his heart doing odd little double-takes inside his chest.
He loves her, he realizes. It’s nothing new—shouldn't be anything new to him, as he's known it for quite a while now—but still there are moments like this one where he pauses and has to take a while to let it sink in; the fact that the woman next to him, whose smile reminds him of every single happy moment he has ever lived through, loves him just as much as he loves her.
Knowing that is absolutely surreal.
"We didn't expect you to arrive so early!" Molly says, obviously harried as she passes by them bearing a cauldron of steaming soup. “The cookies are still baking—and [Y/N], honey, I sent Ginny upstairs to go fetch your sweater, she should be down any time soon—Ron, Fred, will you stop that!”
The two, who had been wrestling with the toy snake Fred held in his hands earlier, immediately drop their hands to their sides. “T’was Fred who started it,” grumbles Ron.
”And I plan on ending it!” Fred emits some sort of war-cry, but stops when he spots the look on his mother’s face. “Kidding, mum.”
It takes a good half-hour or so before the last of the dishes are finally set on the table and everyone is seated. There’s food of all sorts in front of them—treacle tarts, cakes, pudding, pie—and [Y/N], who initially thought she’d feel too nervous to eat anything, eats with ease. Like everyone else around the table, she’s wearing a fuzzy red sweater with her initial sewn in front; a gift to her from Molly. The moment she’d laid eyes on it she knew it was her favorite thing in the entire world.
She tells this to George, who raises his eyebrows and replies snarkily, “I’m gonna have to ask for you to return the necklace I gave you, then.”
”Oh, sod off,” she laughs, rolling her eyes, but she lets him spoon pie into her mouth.
“Gah, get a room!” complains Fred.
”It’s not like they’re snogging,” says Charlie.
”Would you like us to?” grins George, earning him a slap to the shoulder from [Y/N].
”There are children here, George,” she scolds.
”You’re only two years older!” protests Ron.
No one really notices, but the sun has long since sunken below the horizon. Everyone around the table is immersed in chatter; Ron, for example, has been roped into a passionate debate with Fred and George about the true purpose of Pygmy Puffs. (“They only exist to ask for food and jump around and make annoying little noises!” says Ron, to which George responds with, “That sounds like you, Ron.”) [Y/N], meanwhile, is offering an explanation to Arthur about the rubber duck.
“They don’t do much of anything, really. They float and squirt and sometimes they make noises.”
But Arthur looks disappointed, as though he’d been expecting something much more grand. So [Y/N], not wanting to bring down his mood, decides to add, ”I believe they’re also used to keep—um—Grindylows away from your bathwater.”
Mr. Weasley positively beams with joy. “Is that right? I told you, Molly, rubber ducks are magnificent little things!”
Molly gives her husband an exasperated look, but it disappears the moment she turns to [Y/N]. “We’re so glad to have you here, sweetie,” she tells her, reaching over the table to grasp her hand and offering her the most motherly smile [Y/N] has ever seen. “We’ve heard so many good things about you. George speaks so very highly of you—and he was right, you really are perfect for him!"
[Y/N] flushes, smiling. “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.”
”Oh, no, no, call me Molly,” she laughs, waving a hand in the air. “You’re part of the family now, dear. No need for formalities.”
And [Y/N] does feel like it—like she’s part of this table. This family. Not just the girlfriend of one of their sons but someone who actually belongs.
It’s odd, in a magical sort of way, how all of their random conversations blend together to form one harmonious burst of chatter, how everything and everyone in that table just works. Like puzzle pieces from different sets, she thinks to herself. And they shouldn't fit, but they do.
So this is home for George. This is the place he grew up in. This is where his heart lives.
She can't help the way her eyes stray to him every now and then, noting the sheer joy reflected in his eyes, the way the smile on his lips never really goes away. How, even when Ron flicks a strawberry at his face—even when George threatens to send a whole army of pygmy puffs after him—there's still that joyful glint in his eyes.
With the end of winter right around the corner, surrounded by the family that has welcomed her with open arms, holding the hand of her very favorite person underneath table, fireflies flitting around above them as laughter echoes around the table: [Y/N] feels safe. Happy.
So this is home.
The next morning, [Y/N] and George find themselves walking along the edge of the woods where meadow rues grow, a little ways away from the Burrow. They walk unhurried, the soles of their feet swishing against the blades of grass with each step, hands hanging loosely intertwined between them.
They’d woken up before anyone else, when the sun had just barely begun to rise. George had told her to "Get up, I want to take you somewhere" and admittedly she'd whined a little, claiming to need five more minutes of sleep, but George, laughing, threw her over his shoulder and threatened to carry her all the way there if she didn't oblige.
But now, she's glad she came with.
At one point she stops walking, lifts her face to the sky and closes her eyes against the warmth of the sun, taking a deep breath and soaking in everything that the morning wants to bring her. George watches her without question, a fond little smile already tugging on the edges of his lips without him even realizing. [Y/N] is beautiful in the sunlight—or any light at all, actually. George isn't entirely convinced someone like her—someone so breathtakingly beautiful and gentle and patient—would want someone like him. But when he tugs on her hand, turning her around to face him, and when he cups her jaw and guides her closer to press their mouths together, she lets him. She doesn't even think about it. Just melts into him like it's the only thing she knows how to do.
And then she pulls back slightly but stays close, runs a palm down the length of George’s arm and links their fingers together.
"It’s not much," he tells her, voice uncharacteristically quiet. A little unsure. "But it's home." Because, now that the excitement from yesterday has faded, George knows what his house could look like to someone who hasn't lived there all their life—knows that it looks messy, like pieces of it were thrown together haphazardly. It’s not a manor. Nothing like the kind of houses you see featured on Witch Weekly. He knows that [Y/N] isn't the type to care, but still—
"I love it," she pulls away, throwing her head back in an actual laugh—the kind that reminds George of everything good in the world. "I love this place, George. And your brothers and Ginny and your parents. Yesterday was.." she pauses, calming down a little, taking in a deep breath as she squeezes his hand in her own. "It was magical."
Quietly, with her eyes skittering away to look back at the Burrow behind them, she tells him, "I'm really happy, George."
George knows he'll remember this moment forever. The day is just beginning, and he is standing on the edge of a forest-line with a girl who looks at him like in spite of however many weird things he does, whatever dumb things he says, however embarrassing and difficult and painful some days might be, George is still worthy of being hers.
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lovely-jily · 3 years
Text
potions and locked closets
hey!! sorry this is such a long fic BUT i just wanted to say that i’m also working on this same fic but from lily’s pov lmk if you’d want that:))) thanks and i love you all so freakin much <3
James tried to steady his breathing. His heart was already beating too quickly for his liking, and he hadn't even seen her yet. He was already surprised that she agreed to be his partner; they both know that it would likely be another hour of pointless bickering but nonetheless. Lily Evans had agreed to partner with James for their weekly project Slughorn had assigned. She finally said yes to something.
"Fine," she had said after he asked her, following it up with, "But I'll undoubtedly need help with Transfiguration this week, so if you swear to help me, then I suppose we can partner."
In all honesty, James wasn't having too much trouble with his Elixer to Induce Euphoria, but he just wanted an excuse for Lily to be with him. And maybe if she saw that he had matured at least a little bit, it would make her start to tolerate him.
If that were even possible.
The dungeons were decently empty, but Lily had intentionally reserved the potions room in advance so no one else would be around. Meaning they would be completely and totally alone.
When he walked into the room, she was fiddling with the size of the fire under the cauldron. She was at the desk she usually sat in, the second row to the left, with her back to him.
"Evening Evans," He said, setting his bag on the table and standing next to her, "I see you've started already."
"Well, I actually want a good score on this," She exhaled through her mouth and flipped through her Potions book, her dainty fingers lingering on the words "Elixer to Induce Euphoria".
"I'm right there with you," he said, rolling up his sleeves. He watched Lily's eyes dart from his arms back to her textbook. From what James could see, she already gathered the ingredients and had them neatly organised in front of them.
"Alright, you can start by skinning these then?" She said, swiftly handing him the Shrivelfigs.
"Got it," he noted the way her eyes darted up to his for a second when she was handing him the Shrivelfigs, their skin touching momentarily. While it was only a second, it was long enough to cause James to hitch his breath in an all too noticeable way.
He started skinning the flower, trying to ignore the way her perfume smelled or the curve of her jaw. She tied her hair up in a low ponytail, pulling out tiny wispy hairs that framed her face. He chastised himself for the dirty thoughts that followed, but, Jesus, he couldn't help his want to do the most unholy things to her when she did that.
She started working on porcupine quills as he attempted to pull himself together.
"I wish we got Amortentia."
James took a sharp inhale, resulting in him coughing on his own spit. She, Lily Evans, the same Lily Evans who insisted she hated every fibre of his being every day since they were twelve, wanted to make a love potion with him- James! James Potter! As in the same James Potter that she would shoot daggers at any excuse, the boy she would scold any second she could, the boy-
"It's just so much more of a challenge compared to this one," she finished.
Right. Of course. That's why Lily wanted to make that potion, no other reason, as much as James wanted there to be.
"At least we didn't get Felix Felicis. That takes a while," He ignored the feeling of his heart sinking and his stomach twisting as he finished up the Shrivelfigs. He should've known that was the reason, but he couldn't help but innocently jump to conclusions with her.
"What did Amortentia smell like for you?" She asked, causing James to start jumping to conclusions again.
How do I answer this honestly without giving away the fact that I smelled her?"
"Fresh bread, rain, and- uh- my mother's shampoo," He mentally kicked himself for bringing up his mother, but it was the quickest thing he could think of on the spot, "What about you?"
She sighed, stirring in the quills, "The ocean, my mum's hot chocolate and a cologne of some kind, but I couldn't place where that one was from."
A pang of jealousy beat along with James's heart as he thought about her smelling another lads cologne. Whoever he was, he was a prick.
She shook her head quickly as she seemed to panic for a moment, hastily saying, "Anyways, I'm sure it doesn't matter."
She fiddled with the ladle, brushing the few hairs out of her face. Her cheeks were bright red.
"You alright there, Evans?" He asked as he turned to look at her. He swallowed what felt like all his dignity and pride but was actually just the extra spit that always was around with Lily.
"Just fine," She cleared her throat and handed him the Sopophorous beans, not looking at him, "Would love it if you could start working on these, though."
"Got it," he mumbled as he started dicing the beans.
"No, Potter," His heart lightened a little at the sound of his name in her voice, even if it was to chastise him, "Those are far too small. They'll dissolve too quickly."
"What do you mean, this is how Slughorn does it-"
"Slughorn always cuts things too small, but he makes up for it by moving a little quicker-"
"Well, that's stupid. What kind of a teacher-"
"James," She looked up at him, sighing, and despite her exhausted expression, his lungs lifted immensely at the sound of his first name. She never used his first name.
"Yes, Evans?"
"Could you perhaps go find more in the Potions closet? I think it'll just make things a lot easier."
"Got it."
The closet was cluttered, full of misplaced ingredients from students whose first priority clearly wasn't organisation. After a solid minute of staring at the mess, he called her in to help him.
"What do you mean 'Can't find them'- I just saw them," she huffed, shoving herself next to him in the tight space. James would be lying if he said he didn't do this on purpose but let the boy live. He would take any excuse to be in close proximity to the girl.
"Not sure how anyone could find anything in here. I feel bad for the poor bloke who has to clean this during detention," He said, hands on his hips as she stood in front of him, green eyes scanning the shelves. The closet door closed behind her, and while they weren't any closer than they were by the desks, it almost felt like she was right on top of him. It was taking his total concentration to not think about shoving her against the door and having a long-awaited snog.
"It'll probably be Sirius," she said, glancing at him, a smirk on her face.
He chuckled as he looked at the messy shelves, suddenly shy from her eye contact, "Probably. Maybe we should leave him a note."
They faced each other, her back towards the door and his towards the shelves of messy ingredients. There was just enough room between them for her to fold her arms against her chest, her smile making James's lungs feel extra airy, "Or we can charm the Wolfsbane to fall off every time he tries to put it away."
James laughed, shaking his head as he looked down at her. Their faces were only inches apart, and his heart was beating so hard he was worried she could feel it.
"You know, for such a stickler for rules, you're quite creative with pranks."
She smirked, "I've learned that you can get away with a lot more if you aren't so obnoxious about it."
James let out a fake, dramatised gasp, "You?! A Prefect breaking rules?"
She just shrugged, a smirk still painted on her face. James took a second to look at her, feeling fortunate that not only was he was in the potions closet with her, but she had chosen to carry a conversation with him. This friendly banter was still a little rare, even though they had been getting a little closer lately. Since the incident at the end of fifth year, roughly nine months ago, James decided to get his act together. Mainly for the sake of Lily, but also the threat of war was becoming more than just rumours, and he knew that a war was no place for an immature bully like himself. He was not a person that he- or really anyone- was proud of, and he wasn't okay with that.
James was about to say something when her eyes lit up at something behind his head.
"There it is!" She said and reached her arm out to grab something just next to his ear.
Under normal circumstances, James would've been disappointed that she found it because it probably meant that his time in a closet with her, the girl he's wanted to shag since he had first laid eyes on her, was now over.
However, when Lily reached forward to grab whatever they were looking for (James had since forgotten. Other things had occupied his mind the past couple of minutes), she had subconsciously pressed her body up against his. In a panic, James put his hands on her waist. They both looked at each other with panicked eyes when they realised what was going on, faces close enough that James felt her heavy exhale as she attempted to catch her breath. Her eyes darted to his lips as he was suddenly aware of how naked they felt without hers on them. He instinctively bit them.
James cleared his throat and politely turned his head away from her, trying to reduce the awkwardness.
"Er-Um-Sorry," He said, taking his hands off her waist and shoving his hands into his pockets. Lily's hand was still grasping the beans behind him, and she was staring at him, seemingly debating something. Feeling shy and awkward as she studied his face, James was staring at her left earlobe, noticing the freckle resting next to her small pearl earring.
"Don't worry about it," She mindlessly whispered, still looking intently at him. She seemed to be deep in thought and was not thinking about the words she was saying.
James was just surprised she wasn't showing any signs of being uncomfortable. He would've guessed that she would be yelling at him by now.
"So-uh- I guess we should get-" James cleared his throat as he reached for the door handle behind her. He was nervous under Lily's stare and was having a hard time keeping composure. He wasn't sure what she was thinking, and that honestly bothered him more than if she was yelling at him. At least he knew how she felt then, but he was entirely in the dark right now, "We should get going. The potion's probably been simmering for too long."
Lily blinked and shook her head as if leaving a deep trance. Suddenly embarrassed and blushing, she nodded her head and cleared her throat.
"Right," She said as James tried the door handle.
It didn't move.
He tried it again.
Nothing.
"Well, shit," James said, trying to jiggle the door handle again with both hands despite knowing it wouldn't work. She probably thought he did this on purpose (Which wouldn't be a terribly bad idea if James wasn't so afraid of her), "It's locked."
Lily's eyes widened in a panic, and she promptly turned around, trying the door handle for herself. When it inevitably didn't work, she turned back around and sighed as she leaned against the door, looking up. She groaned and brushed the hair out of her face.
"I forgot that Slughorn keeps it locked," She said, still huffing, "Normally, it doesn't matter because he just keeps it open, but..."
James felt his pockets for his wand and remembered he left it on the desk, "You haven't got your wand, do you?"
Lily looked down as she felt her own pockets, looking back up as she shook her head.
It was then, at the sight of a dishevelled Lily Evans, that James realised that he was locked in a closet with her, and he had a hard time remembering why this was such a bad thing. He tried to shove out the thoughts that entered at the way she looked dishevelled and breathing heavily. The things he would do to be the one making her look like that...
"Sorry, Evans. I feel partially responsible for this predicament," He shook his head, trying to regain self-control. What was he thinking? This was Lily Evans he was thinking about. The girl who never failed to let him know just how much she wanted to strangle him at any given moment.
She said nothing, instead resumed studying his face. He sheepishly messed up his hair, unsure what to do with his body under her gaze.
"Oh, Christ, James," She said in annoyance, biting her lip softly.
"What did I do? I didn't know about the lock!" James said defensively, finding it odd that she was just now getting mad at him.
She rolled her eyes and just looked at him.
"Fuck it," She said, and before James could form a confused expression, her hands were pulling his neck forward, and her lips were being slammed against his.
"What the fuck?" James said, shock widening his eyes as he pulled away slightly. He clearly was baffled beyond logical thinking and reason because Lily would be shoved up against the door if he were thinking clearly. There was no way that Lily Evans, the same Lily Evans that swore she wouldn't ever go out with him not even nine months ago, had just kissed him. Passionately, at that.
"Are you complaining?" She asked, a soft smirk resting on the lips that James was just kissing.
"What-No? Of course not, I just-"
"Then shut up," She whispered, feeling her way from his neck to his tie, which she pulled him forward with so their faces were close again, "And give me a good snog."
"Yes, ma'am," James smirked and tilted his head, pushing her against the door and kissing her firmly without a second thought.
146 notes · View notes
innaminitus · 3 years
Text
Gingerbreads
Pairing: George x reader x Fred
Request: WEASLEY TWINS CHRISTMAS SMUT YES PLEAASE where they both like the reader but like make a deal that it’s either both of them for her or none of them? THANK YOU
Warnings: smut, no twincest
Word count: 2671
A/N: BIG NOTE: if you are not okay with this kind of fic, you are free to not read it. there is plenty of similar fics all over tumblr, you can avoid them, too.
first fic from my Christmas at Hogwarts series! Feel free to send requests!
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The hallways were filled with candles and glittery chains, on every corner there was a Christmas tree, decorated with all kinds of ornaments, gingerbreads and dried oranges, filling the air with the specific scent of holidays.
Disgusting.
You hated the so called ‘holiday spirit’ and basically everything that involved anything associated with Christmas. It wasn’t your fault, really. You remembered times when you actually quite liked Christmas. Not much of it you remembered, though, since you were just a small child when it all fell apart. It was Christmas, after all, when your father murdered your mother right in front of you. Cinnamon and oranges only made you anxious now.
Suddenly someone bumped into you from behind.
“Hey, Portkey!” The Weasley twins blocked your view and both walked backwards in order to see you.
“Stop calling me that…” You furrowed at the nickname, but couldn’t help but to smile.
You got the nickname after the circumstances in which you met the twins.
You were scrubbing the cauldrons in Snape’s office as your detention when the door opened and Filch jumped on his chair in which he has been snoring for at least half an hour now. Snape stormed through the door, dragging two boys by their collars. You saw them before, the famous Weasley twins, the jokers of Hogwarts.
“Messrs. Weasley will help Miss Y/L/N clean the cauldrons. I expect them to be clean enough to see my own reflection.”
“Of course, professor!” Filch nodded his head. “I’ll make sure they will!”
But despite what he said, right after Snape left Filch sat back on his chair and started snoring once again. Fred or George laughed at him and grabbed one of the sponges you were using to clean one of the cauldrons from something thick and sticky.
“I’m Fred” one of them said “and this is George.” He pointed at his twin who cringed at the sight of dirty cauldrons.
“I’m Y/N,” you murmured without taking your eyes off a particularly dirty place.
“And how did you end up here?”
You smirked and looked up.
“I turned Filch’s mop into a portkey. He ended up on the roof every time he touched it.”
They both laughed at your words.
“Brillaint!” said George. At least you thought it was George. “We gave the whole first year Fainting Fancies.”
“Only to test them, of course.”
“But Granger ruined the fun.”
You stopped scrubbing for a second and looked at them with dismay.
“What on earth are Fainting Fancies?” you asked, not sure if you actually want to know the answer.
“Ah!” Fred straightened, obviously very proud of himself. “Our invention! We are working on sweets that make you ill.”
“Sweets that make me ill?” You raised your eyebrow.
“Exactly. You take one and have, in example, instant fever. Perfect before an exam you forgot about.”
“You guys are really something else.”
It was in the middle of September. You have become quite inseparable ever since, the jokes and hours of detention really brought you together.
“Ready to leave for Christmas?” asked Fred, almost tripping over an old rug.
You dragged his arm and forced him to walk next to you, afraid he might actually fall next time. George also joined your side.
“I’m not leaving. I always spend Christmas here.”
“Well, actually that makes sense. I wouldn’t like to spend Christmas with a Slytherin either,” Fred laughed, but George stormed him with sight. “What?”
You only talked to George about what happened to your family. One night you were changing the lenses in telescopes in Astronomy Tower, so instead of stars they would show a giant eye of a person who would use them and ended up looking at the night sky filled with dark clouds. You were talking about everything and nothing, and from word to word you ended up confessing it to him. How your father killed your mother, because she wouldn’t join him as a Death Eater. How you run away through the back door of your house and, swallowing tears, stormed to your neighbors. How the Aurors would take your father to the Azkaban and leave you at an orphanage. How no one would adopt you.
“It’s just… Celebrating Christmas in an orphanage is never fun. I much prefer it here than there.”
Fred’s smile fainted. “I’m- I’m sorry, Y/N, I had no idea.”
“That’s fine.” You waved your hand at him. “You couldn’t know.”
He looked at his twin, they exchanged looks that seemed to say more than any word could.
“Alright, that’s it,” George said. “You have to come with us for Christmas.”
You shook your head with a faint smile. “It’s alright, boys. I’m fine on my own, really.”
“Well, we’re not.” Fred stopped, blocking your way up the corridor. “That’s it, you’re coming with us. I already told mom you would.”
You furrowed. “No, you didn’t.”
“But I will, so you better go pack yourself.”
You sighed. Would it really be so bad? Would you go down memory lane and get fifteen panic attacks by the time you step through the door of their home or would you finally soothe the horror you’ve been living in for past twelve years? There was only one way to find out.
“Alright. I’ll go.”
***
You were nervous during the whole train ride, and now you felt as if you were about to jump from your own skin because of anxiety. With the rest of the Weasley siblings and, of course, the one and only Harry Potter you were waiting outside the King’s Cross station for Mr. Weasley, who was going to pick you up. In a car, they said. You couldn’t possibly imagine how exactly you would fit in a car with all the baggage, but magic surprised you way too many times for you to still question everything. This time it was no different – although Mr. Weasley parked a simple black car, he supposedly got from the Ministry (it had something to do with Potter, but you didn’t ask too many questions) inside it was as big as a van. Every single one of you could fit inside, and you still had plenty of room left. They all chattered and laughed during the way, but you were too stressed to even listen to them. You regretted your decision already. You should be at Hogwarts, in your dorm room, alone, reading a book and drinking unholy amount of hot chocolate with marshmallows. The elves would always bring you some food and this perfect beverage since you never joined the rest of the students which stayed as well. But it was too late now.
The car stopped before an old, weirdly crooked house which looked like a patchwork blanket you had when you were little. Somehow it made you feel warm inside.
You got out right after Ginny, with your bag in hand, unsure what to do. You locked your eyes on flying lights around the roof of the house. Could it be fairies? Or just enchanted string of plain lights?
All of the sudden you felt heavy arm around your shoulders. “Hey, Portkey, you alright?” Fred asked, his sight following yours. “Yeah, I know it’s not much, but–“
“It’s perfect,” you interrupted, smiling.
His face brightened and you noticed sparkles in his eyes. Pretty.
“Go on, lovebirds!” Ginny waved at you and you noticed that it was now only you and Fred standing outside. You blushed suddenly and hurried inside.
“Oh, hello, dear!” Mrs. Weasley smiled at you and grabbed your arms, squeezing them lightly. A big warm smile bloomed on her face. “You must be Y/N! How lovely to finally meet you, I’m so glad you’ll spend holidays with us!”
“Thank you for having me.” You smiled back. This woman just greeted you like an old family friend, not an orphan she sees for the first time in her life. It was… oddly nice.
***
You were sitting on a sofa, your knees under your chin, staring blindly at the yule tree, your sight blurred to the point where you only saw points of colorful light. The dinner was wonderful. Mrs. Weasley asked George in a letter what your favorite food was, and of course made it just for you. She also made sure there was no scent of gingerbread spice. It was just a little too much for you.
“You’re not asleep?” Someone’s voice interrupted your mindless procrastinating.
You blinked and turned your head to look at George walking down the stairs.
“Not yet… I’m a little overwhelmed. Don’t mind me.”
He sat next to you. The sofa was quite small, that’s why you put your legs down, and now his thigh was touching yours.
“I know my mum can be… intense. To say the least, but she means well.”
“I know that, and she’s lovely, really, it’s just… I don’t know. A lot to process for me. I haven’t had real Christmas since I was a kid. And you are all trying to make me feel welcome…” You turned your head from him, suddenly ashamed. “I feel like I don’t deserve any of it.”
A second passed, then another, and you felt his warm fingers under your chin. He gently turned your face back to him.
“You deserve everything, Y/N.” He moved so close to you that for a second you were sure he was going to kiss you, but he hesitated mere millimeters from your lips. Hotness flushed your cheeks. He smelled like pine tree and suddenly you decided it was now your favorite scent. You waited for a second that felt like an hour, and slightly moved away in the same moment he moved forward. A small gasp escaped your lips, he leaned even more, undaunted, and kissed you gently. No tongue, not even opened mouth, just lips touching lips. It was a long kiss, though, and when he moved away you felt uncomfortable chill on your mouth.
“George–“
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t–“
“No,” you interrupted. “Do it again. Please.”
You didn’t have to tell him twice. His hand landed on the back of your neck, he pulled you to him, and butterflies erupted in your stomach. Enough with the gentleness, he was needy, as if he’s been waiting for your lips his whole life. His other hand was on your thigh, he was turning you more towards him as his tongue slid into your mouth.
“Well, well, well.”
You parted immediately, somehow ashamed. Fred slowly walked down the stairs, a hint of smile on his face. “What do we have here?” He stood before you, hands crossed. “I thought we had a deal, Georgie.” Wait, what? “It’s either both of us or none of us.”
You blinked once, then twice, but couldn’t understand the situation. You looked at George, hoping that maybe he would make it clearer.
“I know, I know,” he sighed “but I couldn’t help myself.”
Your heart missed a beat, but not in a pleasant way. Were they… making a bet?
“Can any of you tell me what the hell are you talking about?” you asked, lovely moment from just a mere minute ago long gone.
George rubbed the back of his head and exchanged looks with Fred. They were doing it again, communicating without words.
He sighed. “We– we both like you, okay? And we agreed that none of us will be with you… unless the other one would also be involved.”
You swallowed hard. Did he mean… to be with them both? At the same time? It seemed crazy but… you liked them, too. They were both handsome, obviously. Would it be so bad?
“Okay,” you said, the steadiness of your voice surprising you. “We can– we can try.”
They seemed as surprised as you were, looking at each other once more.
Fred was the first to speak, after he cleared his throat. “Then maybe… let’s go to our room?”
You nodded and followed him up the stairs, feeling the warmth of George’s body behind you.
It was oddly arousing. You had to be quiet, to not wake anyone. You knew you’d have to be quiet later when… When what exactly? Were you going to have sex? Or was it just your hope?
You entered the twins’ room, bathed in moonlight. It smelled like pine here as well…
Suddenly a hand was on the back of your neck, Fred’s tongue first, a split second before his needy lips landed on yours. You didn’t think, you didn’t wait, you gave back every kiss, your tongue next to his. While his fingers were tangled in your hair another set of hands played with skin under the hem of your shirt, bolder with each passing moment. He traced the curves of your body, shamelessly traveled up, and up, his soft fingers caressed the side of your breasts only to finally land on your hardened nipples. You moaned in Fred’s mouth at which he bit your lower lip.
“You like how he touches you, huh?” His voice no more than a whisper, sent shivers down your body. “Wait till I touch you.”
George rolled your nipples in between his fingers, but soon his hands were gone, because Fred lifted you up. They seemed to have one mind, what one thought the other acted. George sat on one of the beds, Fred seated you between his brother’s legs. His fingers hooked on your pajama pants and your panties, but before he took them off he took a look at you, one eyebrow raised in silent question. You could go back now, they wouldn’t blame you. Only… you didn’t exactly want to go back. You lifted your hips, your answer just as silent as his. He grinned and slid your clothes down your legs. George gripped your shirt and soon it was also gone, but you weren’t cold. You had two bodies to warm yourself and you were gladly going to use them.
George’s soft lips traced the curve of your neck while Fred was watching your arousal grow under his brother’s touch. His hands slowly parted your thighs, showing your already pulsating pussy. His twin’s fingers were kneading your breasts and mercilessly pinching your nipples while his mouth landed on yours, kissing you passionately.
He caught you by surprise, really. Almost making you jump when you felt warm tongue spreading your folds, surprise quickly turning to pleasure when Fred’s tongue started to, gently at first, play with your dripping pussy. Oh, but he was impatient. Soon you were a moaning as he was sucking on your clit and slowly pushing one finger inside of you. George wasn’t planning on being any worse than his brother – his skillful fingers could probably make you come just by playing with your nipples and soon you were biting your lips almost till they bled, only to not moan their names.
The pleasure was unbelievable. Feeling of two bodies against you, flicks of Fred’s tongue and moves of George’s fingers and his lips on yours – it was all too much to bear, too much for one person to experience. And you found yourself lost in this pleasure when Fred joined another finger deep in your pussy. Your muscles clenched on him, he started sucking on your clit, George’s fingers pinched hard and all of the sudden you were almost knocked out by the most intensive orgasm you’re ever had.
They gave you a moment to come down from the high and slowly started to undress when you suddenly heard a knock on the door.
“Can you wrap it up?” You heard Ginny’s whisper. “Mom asked me twice already where you are, Y/N, I’m running out of excuses.”
You got all red and slapped your hand over your mouth, looking at the twins who tried very hard not to laugh. Fred handed you your clothes and George leaned to your ear “We’ll finish it tomorrow.” A shiver went down your spine. Well, now you’ve had new Christmas memory to hold onto.
1K notes · View notes
all-things-fic · 3 years
Text
Somewhere Only We Know
A/N - Hello, you lovely lot! Hope you are all keeping well in these utterly shit Covid times. Who would’ve thought that we would still be here in December?! Please see my offering for @goldenbluesuit​‘s Christmas Fic Challenge. Hope I’ve done a bit of justice with this piece.
I can remember Katie texting me telling me about the challenge, and I’ll admit I was given first dibs and now I’m absolutely shitting myself because I’ve seen all the brillaint entries so far and I’m not sure I really cut the mustard with this piece but I’m proud of myself for being able to put a solid 70% of this together in just one day (that one day being today).
Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Katie has done a brilliant job and I know how grateful she is towards anyone who has joined the challenge or supported by reading/sharing etc.... I need to stop rambling... Okay, thank you for sticking with me as always and happy reading! .x
***
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The last thing you remembered actually reading in the group chat was “make sure you have your wellies”. You were glad that you remembered that part at the very least.
Winds whipped around you as you buried your face further into your cream roll neck cable knit jumper, all but hidden underneath your tobacco borg teddy coat that someone had already likened to Macklemore.
Nothing like being back home with your closest and oldest friends.
Mud squelched under your feet as you walked in line with two of your oldest girl friends, eyes looking over the four males in front of you as they led the way over the grassy hills.
There had been zero planning on what today’s events would bring. It was quite clear that the seven of you just wanted to be reunited with the country air and wind bitten cheeks.
It was nice. How simple it was. On the surface at the very least. That was until you zoned in on the little things. 
Like his laugh. The same laugh that always carried somehow and it seemed like the wind was making it that much more prominent than usual today.
There was no denying, he had this glow about him. Even from the back of him. You felt silly for thinking it, but it was true. It was in the way he held himself as he attacked the grassy hills with his feet clad wellies and brown trousers.
Life had changed a lot in over a decade. Christ, had it been that long? You’d all gone from baby teenagers to fully fledged adults. The age range of your friendship differing slightly, the odd person here and there slightly older than a couple of people in the group.
Nonetheless, many of the experiences had been the same. The big job offers, and the even bigger promotions. The heartbreaks, regardless of their prominence or lack of, had been the felt the same. The flirtation between some of you sparked probably a bit more so now with a finesse that didn’t have you rolling your eyes but rather leaning into it. 
Four out of seven of you were single. Jack and Jonny were virtually married off, however neither of them were with their partners this year with both deciding to spend Christmas at home and New Years with their significant others. Alice was still loved up and going strong with her fella, as was Grace who you hadn’t heard a peep from as she constantly checked her phone to see when the person she was besotted with finally arrived up North thanks to West Midlands Trains pulling into Crewe. 
So that left Will, you and Harry. Harry who had  quite publicly made it known that he was single. Well, according to your Mum he had, in several interviews. Including the one that she had described as an ‘incredibly relaxing watch and nice background noise to my Sunday evening brew and ironing session’. 
That was a strange one for you, his honesty. In earlier years of friendship, he always seemed quite aloof. Like he was keeping his options open. Guarded in a way that frustrated at least 75% of the friendship group, in the nicest way possible. You knew that was a contradiction but any annoyance came from a good place. 
You remembered one night in 2014 when he wouldn’t quite give you a straight answer over tequila shots whether he was shagging someone or not. You also remember the way he’d been pulled away from you tactfully by Alice that night when she sensed how you were about to blow up at his lackadaisical attitude. 
The same had been felt in 2016. Not so much in 2018, but you weren’t single then so maybe you just didn’t care. 
2019 was significantly different though.
See the thing was, you knew him now. Like, knew knew him. 
Some would think it was a lapse of judgment, a reading that you would agree upon given what had happened two days prior if ever prodded about it publicly.
Others would vehemently disagree. Stating how long any sort of energy between the two of you had been bubbling for a number of years. 
Looking back you couldn’t even understand why you’d attended his show. You lived in Camden and it made sense, but that’s where the sense stopped. Even the ways he had reached out had been one of the most random messages you’d received from him
There was no context, just a simple ‘I’m playing the Electric Ballroom and there’s tickets waiting for you if you want ‘em.’
And the thing was, you loved that venue. The grungy-ness of it all. The way you had stuck to the floor while trying to dance along to the likes of The Hives and Kings of Leon when seeing them playing there, basking in your sweaty happiness. 
But the stickiness of the floor and sweatiness of the room didn’t compare to the stickiness and sweatiness you later found yourself partaking in as Harry took you from behind over the side of his couch. 
A shiver rolled through you at the thought, one that you would blame on the December bitter chill because it was a secret. One that neither of you had mentioned since it happened on Thursday night, or to be technically correct the early hours of Friday morning. 
He’d been good. Of course he had been.
He had that way about him that night that pulled you under a false sense of endeared security. From his dimpled smile to gleaming eyes. He was happy. 
And the way he had shone as he found you on the balcony had warmed you like nothing you had known in the longest time.
It caused you to forget about the worry that had laden you limbs as you turned up at 9.13pm to the wooden doors of the building, wondering how many songs he was in to the set as you convinced yourself he would start at 9.00pm.
As you’d been ushered over to a clear box window and uttered your name to a dorky looking man wearing a tracksuit pull over and watched him handover a white envelope through the circle hatch. 
You stood in the dark, next to two much younger girls who enjoyed the way his glances lingered over at their side. Eyes had found Gemma in the opposite corner of the balcony, her dancing and singing with some recognisable faces mainly more so because you had seen them on social media.
You, however, kept yourself to yourself. Until you were anchored in the tightest hug from Gemma that you had ever felt from her and swayed from side to side as she made it known how pleased she was to see you once the concert was over. 
That familiarity had been nice. The vibrancy of nostalgia consuming you in your entirety. 
Watching him work a room when he finally entered the after party was a sight to behold, in his navy blue pinstripe suit and yellow ‘I’m gonna die lonely’ t-shirt. 
He wasn’t. Gonna die lonely, that is. 
He glided so smoothly from one person to the next, spilling a drink down himself in the process you’d seen (and later felt when your hand clung to the fabric of his t-shirt as you kissed), making time for everyone in his own unique way.
Big eyes followed you over Gemma’s shoulder when he had finally found himself within your circle and hugged his sister once more that evening. They were hard to read but also openly filled with a glimmer of hope as he dropped his gaze to see what you were wearing.
And when he approached you, he hugged you in a way that managed to pull you into the darkened corner of the dingy space. Spinning your body to keep your face concealed from any prying eyes. 
He revealed to you how he didn’t think you were going to turn up, scanning you with his gaze as he spoke. You did the same, a bit taken aback by just how attractive you were finding him. He had always been handsome but the aura he gave off, made your fingers itch to have him closer to you. 
Words ran away from you that night as he begged and pleaded with you to tell him what your favourite song had been. Based on first impressions, which the show has been, then Canyon Moon and Watermelon Sugar had smothered you and given you no other option but to pick them.
If he were to ask you now you’d probably say To Be So Lonely, thanks to the drive home being longer than originally thought and said album being your choice of road trip music. 
Forget Driving Home For Christmas, nothing slapped more than one of your closest friends admitting to being an arrogant son of a bitch. 
After your chat, he mingled some more but Harry was always tactile and that night had been no different. He veered conversations with people you had never seen before to take place by the zone that you all occupied.
He actively kept his back against yours, allowing the faintest of touches and brushing of arms - sometimes hands too if he dropped them down heavily enough with his arms as he spoke - to entice and create a spark. 
You were kept late enough to miss the last tube. Battery dangerously low on your phone that you didn’t know if a transaction with Uber would be worth a try. 
Jumping into the same car as him had been easy. His soft and tired eyes findings yours in the cab as he leant his head back against the headrest in the back seat and let his lips tip upwards in an expression of tenderness that had you melting in your seat. 
“‘S been a while since we’ve both been a bit pissed in the back of a taxi,” he mused, pushing his fallen locks out of his eyes to ensure his view of you wasn’t obscured. “Come an’ cuddle me like you used to do when we went out a’ home and were worse for wear.”
Falling into his side was almost second nature, eyes closing as you let your forehead rest against his jawline and let his worn in cologne fill you senses and scatter your judgment.
You don’t even remember how you ended up kissing that night. A mixture of confessions about missing each other and praise of how good you both were in your own ways. The sound of his whispered, “are you coming home wi’me?” against your lips an offer too good for you to refuse as you sat pressed into his side and half in his lap. 
The giggles that night, around dramatic shushes as you tripped and shuffled from the car to his front door were almost haunting in your memory as he tried to chastise you around spluttered laughter about being respectful of his neighbours. 
Getting the key in the lock proved unchallenging -  one of the better analogies aligned to your memories and latter sexual endeavours - as you slipped into the house. He enjoyed watching the way you walked ahead of him into his home, not realising how much he needed that visual of seeing how well you fit in. 
While time seemed to slow in that moment, movements desperately sought the opposite. Hands gripped and clawed like their lives depended upon it. 
Looking back now, both he and you wished it hadn’t happened the way it did. Skirt lifted and over the side of his couch. Teeth clashing and hips knocking.
It had been every inch a drunken fumble. A first meeting slightly cheapened but wanted nonetheless. Only made even cheaper by the hush-hush concealing of it ever occurring. 
But a secret it was and a secret it would remain. 
And oh how you wished you had a pillow you could press you face into right now and scream, this time for an entirely different reason. Unlike that night. 
“Not seen a sign of any deer yet, mate,” you heard a voice break you out of your indulgence of recollecting past events. Harry was the worst at wanting to get a reaction. 
“Christ, have a bit of patience would yer?”
You smiled at the bickering, just like it always was as the River Dane could be heard in the distance somewhere as you walked. If you listened really close, that is. 
Lifting your eyes, your smile lingered as you watched Harry spin his body around and let his hands get lost in the massive pockets of his parka. He walked backwards holding your gaze softly with his eyes twinkling before he gently rolled them at the overreaction and impatience of your friends.
He seemed pleased that you’d enjoyed his teasing as you once again hid you smile into your jumper. 
You’d be alright.
***
You heard giggles and screams ahead of you as your friends stumbled in the dark and messed about as you got closer to the viaduct. This place or the people didn’t change, and at times while it filled you with a warm nostalgia, it could be heavily jarring.
A soft and lazy smile pulled at your lips as you felt his heavy forearm lightly tug you closer to him, his lips finding your hair. And then there was Harry. 
“Think we should go this way m’self,” Harry mumbled, the nudge of his hips against yours had you stumbling slightly in your heels away from the direction of your friends and somewhere completely different. 
“And why’s that?” You turned your face slightly, cheeks warm and flushed thanks to the mixture of alcoholic beverages; eyes glazed as they lifted up to look at him. 
“Cause you never would’ve let me when I was sixteen,” he admitted. 
“You didn’t ask.”
“‘M askin’ now.” 
With slow blinking eyes, you looked at his own unfocused vision. A soft shine to his skin, hair blowing gently against his forehead. The softest of smiles tilted at your lips.  
“On yer go,” he nudged you forward, this time more so with his crotch and his hands, which wrapped around your hips to help steer you. Harry was met with only a small amount of resistance from you as you split off from your friends and turned in the different direction. 
You bit back your laugh, dropping your head slightly as you felt your heels started to sink into the grass as you walked. Harry was level with you when you sunk down noticing the way you legs slightly gave way, a soft chuckle omitting from his throat as he asked, “You alrigh’?”
“I’m sinking in these bloody things,” you grumbled, pulling your heel from the grass and trying to place the sole of your shoe onto the ground beneath you first. 
“So much for no’ being able to take the country out o’ the girl. London’s changed yer, swear it.”
Shaking your head, you cut your eyes to give him a harsh stare for his wind up. His amused expression lit a fire in you like no other. He really wasn’t one to talk though, was he? 
“Gi’me your hand ‘ere,” he held his out to you, quickly cupping it when you handed it over and pulled it under his bent elbow. “Remind me again who’s idea this was, eh?”
He didn’t need reminding, he had been one of the keen instigators for the whole jaunt down Twemlow Viaduct. It usually was him, or Jack. The two of them often reminiscing on times they had both raided their parents' alcohol cupboards and managed to sneak out with some dusty bottle that held a liquor that tasted out of date and stale, and if not that then, cheap. 
“‘S still fucking freezing down ‘ere, in’it?” He asked, lifting his left hand up to his mouth and blowing against it to try and get some feeling back into his fingers.
“We’re so close to the river, I don’t know why you’d expect anything different?”
“Is this why everyone was always so insistent on necking anything with over 11% alcohol in it when we came down ‘ere as kids?”
“Probably,” you softly laughed. 
“‘S a bit different now though innit?”
“Oh, I’m not so sure,” you started to correct him, shrugging your hand out from under his elbow and reaching for your bag. Quickly fumbling with the clasp, you lifted up the quilted flap and managed to pull out the stainless steel hip flask.
Harry cackled a harsh laugh, his eyes crinkling as he slowly let his laughter die down and softly let his joy wash over his features. “Impressive. Gone all proper on me.”
“You know I haven’t,” you held his eyes watching as he nervously cupped at the back of his neck for a short while, a gentle bite down of his bottom lip, as you quickly uncapped the item and held it out to him. He looked like he needed the courage.  You continued, “We’re just a bit more refined, that and we earn a good living. Some more than others, and by some I mean you.” 
He held his hand up towards you with an amused grin at your comment. “You first, ‘s yours after all.” 
Lifting the item and knocking back your head, you swallowed the whiskey with a small grimace, before offering it to Harry once more. This time he accepted, his right hand making light work of taking the item from your hands and sipping at the contents.
His face wasn’t as contorted as your’s when he swallowed, a fan of the chosen beverage if needs must. “‘S the proper stuff, tha’ is,” he commented with a quick lick of his lips before continuing, “Come a long way from sneaking the bottles of dusty Blossom Hill from the back of the cupboard.”
“Don’t know about that,” you smiled, taking the item and pushing it back into your bag. “I’d still drink if, if it were on offer.”
“‘M sure Mum’s got a bottle or two going at home?”
“Is that your way of asking me to go home with you?” You paused. “Again.”
Harry remained silent at your words. Both you and he knew it was going to happen. A mixture of sparks and lovelorn, lingering glances was enough to make anyone both want to give up, while also giving a burning confidence usually unknown. 
Neither of you expected it would be you who started the conversation, however. 
“It is, ‘f it’s gonna work. ‘M not sure I could wait any longer t’be’onest wi’yer.“
Laughing, you reached up to push at his shoulder. He always knew exactly what to say, but no way was he going to make a laughing stock of the whole thing. “Oh, give over,” you spoke, harshly swallowing when he kept your hand against the thick cable knit black jumper he had on. “You’ve made it this far, thus far just fine.” 
“‘M not playin’,” he whispered, hand gently curling around your own and lifting it up to press against his face. His cheeks were warm underneath the cooler hands, despite the cold night whipping around you both and your mind quickly wondered if he was just as embarrassed for his lack of acknowledgment as you had been. “Homes nice, you’re nicer.”
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about it,” you let your soft voice get taken by the wind.
“An’ what gave you tha’ impression?”
He did. He gave you that impression. By not mentioning it. By treating you how he always did.
“You.”
“Me?” Harry responded, indignantly, blowing out a sigh that had his cheeks puffing out underneath your hand. “‘M not doing a very good job then am I? I can’t keep m’eyes off o’you. ‘S not my fault you don’t bloody notice ‘em.”
But you had noticed them. 
His eyes, gaze following your every move, near enough. Stupid little touches. Glances of approval. Not just now, but from years before. 
Treating you how he always did.
Oh, treating you how he always did.
Bringing your eyes back to his figure, you saw the way his gaze darted and nervousness dragged at his features. A frown began to set itself between his eyebrows from worry. 
“Changes everything.”
Running his tongue along his teeth, Harry pursed his lips. “Everythin’ has changed, changed a long time ago an’all.” 
You dropped your hand down, it now massaging against the back of his neck and shoulder as you felt the tension of his body radiating through his clothes. Under the dim moonlight and the odd spotlight that had been added to the viaduct with each passing year for safety, Harry exhumed everything anyone would want in a boyfriend. He was soft, and so bloody gorgeous. Not just because he was personification of an almost six foot tall string of handsomeness, but his character did the talking for him.
He knocked the door before he walked into a room, for example. Who really did that kind of thing anymore? 
But you could also still see the heartbreak that lingered, albeit not as strong as it once was, it was still there. And that was problematic and scary. To be on the receiving end of it. Not that you would hold it against him, because you had been him at one point too. At many points in fact. 
When the two of you had shagged, because let’s face it that is exactly what it had been, while a sense of familiarity in the person was prevalent it was definitely overruled by the desire to just hit a euphoric high that if hit right could not be topped. 
Familiar overruled in other aspects, and it wasn’t to be brushed away. But was familiarity a mask that would slip sooner rather than later? Was it the start and the end?
The both of you experienced similarities in your life that could not be matched by the friends in your friendship group. London had chewed you up and spat you out, ruthlessly so. While rewarding you with long hours but fat pay cheques, careers that catapulted you to new heights and enabled you to see parts of the world that two country kids (which in one way you were) could never have imagined. 
Sure Harry’s had been on a much, much larger scale - you would not ever deny that - but you no longer fit in. 
And neither did he. 
This was a place that only the two of you knew. A place where you watched those around you fall in love and have the time to do so. A place where your friend's happiness was created a lot easier than it wasn’t and allowed a sense of success to weave its way in, through the most unexpected of happenings.
Not a place where you found happiness in your work because there was less of a space for happiness to blossom elsewhere. Not really. Not like you; both of you. 
Understanding was vital. 
This had been a place you knew like the back of your hand. A place that had you feeling the earth beneath your feet, fresh air in your lungs and had at times made it so you found yourself sitting by a river and finding yourself feeling complete. 
Yet looking over at the almost 26 year old, that just wasn’t the case anymore. 
And for once you didn’t feel alone. 
The sound of the odd piece of cobbled pavement underneath Harry shoes, buried beneath overgrown grass and plants, broke you from your thoughts, as you watched him kick at the ground and scuff his shoes.
He sighed, head tilted back before he knocked it to the side and caught your eyes. A small scoffed laugh left his lips as he shook his head and dropped his gaze to his feet.
“‘S it fucked?”
You hummed, a small frown lacing your features.
“Fucked it, haven’t I? Fuckin’- idiot-“ he breathed out a noise as he clenched his teeth, one that wasn’t quite a growl but enough to let you know he was agitated. Only strengthened by how tight his jaw became. 
Before you could even think, the back of your hand gently brushed against the pulsing hinge of his jaw. Muscles taut as you tried to soothe him in a way that your mind was screaming was far too intimate.
You didn’t want him having any internal battle about right and wrong. Not when you had both taken the same steps to get here. 
“Thought it was just meant as a one time thing,” you admitted. “Like you needed it, and I needed it. Was what it needed to be at the time. Bit rough, bit sloppy-“
You cringed are the use of the word. Wanting the ground to swallow you in a weird fashion. You should be able to talk open and honestly with someone who you had known longer than hadn’t. 
“Rough?“ Harry swallowed audibly, his face fallen. “That’s not-“ 
His eyes held an emotion similar to sorrow at the mention of the word. “That’s not the impression I wanted to give you.” 
“We were both drunk, it happens.” 
“Not with me it doesn’t. Not when it’s me, wanting to be wi’you.”
“I mean I was into it if that helps anything?” 
“Were yer?”
You looked at him from the corner of your vision, watching his lips try to fight a smile as you rolled yours into your mouth to not give yourself away. You knew what you were trying to do by speaking those words aloud but you wished you hadn’t. Awkward breathy laughs were shared by the two of you as you held his eyes. 
“Was I?”
You hummed in agreement to answer his question, letting your smile dance along your lips now and watching as Harry’s dimples started to show. His expression was youthful, slightly smug. 
“Good t’know.”
***
Finishing saying your goodbyes to your friends and ignoring their suggestive expression because ‘Harry was stopping as an extra pair of hands’, you shut the heavy wooden door and reached up to close the deadbolt lock at the top. Shortly after, you let your feet drop as you stopped standing on your tiptoes and pressed your forehead against the door. 
The silence of the pub was always a strange one to you. A place that was usually thriving, whether it was just your friends, or your parents friends. When the lights were turned out, it was actually quite a lonely place. Regardless of growing up around this sort of industry your entire life and having parents as publicans nothing was more depressing than an empty bar, lifeless and nothing like it was intended.
A suggested lock-in from Jack, who managed to interrupt both yours and Harry’s conversation earlier had not been a bad shout after all. You knew it meant that you would have to deal with the fallout with it being Christmas Eve, but it wasn’t very often that you found yourself in the setting. 
Turning to move from the door, you almost jumped out of your skin when you heard the opening of a familiar Lily Allen song start to play over the speakers. 
Harry emerged from the corner of the pub that housed the jukebox, slowly rubbing his hands together before he wordlessly picked up the scattered pint glasses that had remained on one of the tables that had been missed by the staff on the evening shift. His eyes glanced over at you, as you stood with a hand to your chest.
This wicked smile and gleam washed over his face as he paused his movement. “Did I scare yer?”
“Do you not think it’s a bit loud?”
He wrinkled his nose at you, a soft shake of his head no, to answer your question. 
“‘S your fave innit?” He asked, head nudging to where the jukebox was now hidden.
With a small smile you nodded, “Prefer the Keane version in all honesty.”
“Don’t have it in the bloody jukebox though, d’yer? Can’t like it that much.”
Your smile deepened at his exclaim and how prominent his accent sounded as he spoke, the small clink of the glasses he was holding only heard if you really zoned in. 
“Where d’yer want these?” He asked, holding up the five pint glasses he had collected. “Behind t’bar?”
Humming, you nodded and watched as he weaved his way through the tables to you. You frowned as he got closer, not understanding why he hadn’t bypassed you completely.
Once he was close enough to you, you watched as he reached for what you knew to be your own glass of wine that was almost finished. 
“Fancy the rest of this or can it go too?”
Looking at him and down to the glass, you gently wrapped your hand around it and brought the lip to your mouth. You knocked the item back quickly, swallowing the rest of your wine, before handing over the now empty glass back to Harry.
“Good girl,” he joked, light laughter lacing each word. “Sit yourself down.”
Wearing an amused and quizzical expression, you let yourself sink down into the wooden chair. Resting your chin on your hand, you spun slightly in your seat to keep your eyes on Harry as he placed the glasses down and lifted the hatch so he could step behind the bar. 
With your free hand, you started to tap the worn beer coaster labelled with the Cheshire Brewhouse logo against the table. Part of you hated how Harry had a knack for anything, including knowing his way around a bar. 
He busied himself with collating the glasses once more as you let your eyes take in the surroundings you had known, loved and even grown out of. 
Your parent’s pub was cosy and friendly. A truly 
classic and quintessential British village pub, featuring open fires, bookcases found in the very far corner or the jukebox in the other, lots of old oak and a really pleasant garden with benches for the summat and heaters for the winter. You know the kind that had its regulars that had kids who had seen each other grow up.
The bar was the centre of the pubs house, with an extensive array of whiskies amongst many other delights. A nice range of local ales and a well-balanced, great quality list of wines on offer designed (which you would be taste testing if the service hadn’t decided to take a break) to complement the food menus designed daily by a team of chefs who all have a passion for great cooking using fresh, seasonal and local ingredients.
It looked as Christmassy as Christmas could get, with a real tree which was locally sourced from one of the many surrounding farms and traditionally decorated with golds and reds. Twinkly lights shone, not only on the trees but as part of the garland that was hung above the bar each year, much to the annoyance of your Dad and the delight of your Mum.
Slowly dragging your eyes back to the bar, you watched Harry as he poured you another glass of white wine and started to recap the bottle. He must’ve felt your eyes on him, his gaze meeting yours almost immediately. 
“Service is a bit slow,” you jibed, once you knew he was with you. “Going to ruin the reputation of a fine establishment.”
His chuckle was breathy in response, but warmed you through as he turned his back and pushed his tumbler glass up against the device at the bottom of the Glenfiddich distilled malt whiskey, not once but twice going for a double. 
“Helping yourself to the stock now, as well.” 
“‘M sure your Dad won’t mind,” he responded, twisting his body back around to reach for your own glass and place it onto a tray that sat along the bar top. “In fact he’d probably make a comment about how it’d put hairs on m’chest.”
You laughed, unrestrained, knowing just how right he had been with that comment. 
Over the otherside of the room, Harry smiled and shushed you as he walked closer, easily holding the tray with your drinks upon it. “Being a bit loud,” he taunted as he slid the tray down to the oak table.
“Oh, now you’re concerned about the noise.”
With his hand against the back of the chair which was currently housing your outstretched legs, you felt him start to wobble the seat to give you a warning. 
“Hang on,” you said, “Plenty of other chairs.”
“This one’s mine,” he responded.
Wanting to roll your eyes but deciding not to, you let your legs drop down and gave the seat back to Harry. Once he was comfortable and he’d taken your drink off the tray, he gestured with his right hand.
Not entirely focused, he had to do the ‘come hither’ motion a couple of times before you finally cottoned on. He was willing to let you put your legs on his lap instead, while he may have taken the seat it didn’t mean he wanted to take away your comfort.
No sooner had your legs been raised to rest against his tan washed velvet corduroy trousers, was he fiddling with the buckle of your stiletto sandals.
“Got mud everywhere,” you commented, wiggling your toes that were painted a festive red and inspecting the little dots of dirt that were splattered against your skin, as Harry dropped the first shoe to the floor and quickly worked on the second. “Dread to think what they smell like.”
“Smell alrigh’ from ‘ere,” he mused, smirk faint but glaring obvious in his tone of voice as he threw a quick and mischievous glance at you. As you elongated your foot against his thighs, the tips of your toes were just about able to press into his thick jumper to try and jab at him for his comment. 
Before you were able to put any sort of force behind your action, Harry’s hand clamped down around the top of your foot causing your eyes to snap up away from his hand and up to his eyes.
There he sat watching you, top two teeth pressed into his bottom lip keep his smile at bay. Releasing his lips slowly, his whispered threat left his throat, “I will tickle.”
You tried to fidget away but to no avail. With a whined laugh, you frowned as Harry goaded you by slowly raising his eyebrows. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
You had tried him. 
Truth be told you wanted to again.
If he wanted to.
Reaching for your wine, you took a hefty sip and let the silence swallow you both. Harry, who kept his hand on your foot and his fingers dancing gently against the top, let his head fall back awkwardly against the hardwood. His head dropped to the side taking in his surroundings and their familiarity. 
“Do you ever get tired of coming back?” 
You hummed, sure you had misheard due to the way the blood was rushing around your ears. He turned to look at you, all double chin and puffy cheeks.
“Of everything being the same, but different?”
His whispers captivated you, hushed confessions not quite meant for anyone else but his own mind yet spilling from him with such an ease that he did nothing to fight them. 
“I’ll admit, I come home for other people. Not for me.”
“People?”
“Mum, Dad,” you paused. “You.”
His smile deepened. His chin knocking down to his chest, his eyes looking up at you from underneath his curling hair from being caught in the moist winter evening just hours before.
“You can stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you did three nights ago.”
Harry breathed in deeply, his nostrils flaring and his chest expanding. A lick of his lips, before his mouth dropped to sit slightly agape. 
“What if I don’t wan’to? What if I want t’look at yer like this all the time?”
You found yourself unable to respond, nose burying itself into your wine glass as you pressed your lips against the cool outside to try and hide your burning smile. 
His lips curled lightly, before he breathed a laugh once and gently shook your foot with his hand. “Eh? Come ‘ere-“
“Harry,” you breathed.
“C’mon, c’mere. ‘S room for more than just your feet.”
If it wasn’t for the creak of your chair as you slowly started to push yourself out of it, you wouldn’t have consciously been aware of how you were making your way to him. 
His body relaxed, somehow managing to become closer to horizontal than sitting upright in his seat, as he peered as you walking the short distance over to him. 
With his legs widened, he pressed his face into your side now that you were close enough. His nose inhaled the familiar scent of your perfume which was only faint now due to the other senses and scents it had mixed with throughout the evening.
Rolling his face out of your body, he knocked his head back and pressed his chin where his face had been. The face you showed him was worn with worry, an expression he did not want to meet.
“‘S wrong?”
His ask was lazy. Not wanting to dig deep and know. What if he didn’t like what he found? 
“We know how this is going to end.”
“Do we?” He prodded. His eyes moved over your features quickly before they partly disappeared to him, thanks to your curtain of hair which slowly fell down.
His hand reached up, desperately brushing it away and cupping at the back of your head as best as he could while he remained seated. 
“How’s that? Tell me.”
“Same, but different.” 
You knew you shouldn’t use his words, not in a way that could be considered against him, but they - in the most ambiguous of ways - described everything perfectly. 
“Not if I have my way.” 
His words were almost lost against your stomach as he pressed his face against you once more and wrapped his hands around you; sweaty, nervous palms pressing to the backs of your thighs. 
“Same, but better.”
Harry guided you down to his lap, his lips somehow managing to remain pressed into stomach, or your chest, or your clavicle, as your face became level with his. 
“Different, but better.” 
He kissed against your cheek slowly, nose nudging at your skin as he willed for you to relax against him. “I don’t know how you like it, like this,” he whispered in confession. “Show me?”
A puff of air left your lips as you turned to look at him with hooded eyes. His mouth was closer to yours than you originally thought, corners of lips brushing as you slightly pulled away. 
When your lips met, it was in the softest of pecks that trembled under your nerves. Both sets of eyes looking back at each other as you innocently engaged. 
If you were to take your eyes away from him in any way, you would notice those fluffy curls of his falling over his forehead and the lightest dusting of red blush making itself known against his cheeks and the tops of his ears.
He felt like a school boy, lost and clumsy. The kid who was once again flicking paper at you in science class just so he could pull a face at you over something your teacher was saying to get you to laugh. 
Mouths hovering over each other, your breathing mixed, as Harry nodded to you slightly. You pressed your lips to his once more, feeling the way he gradually opened up to you, warmed and softened underneath the puckering of your mouth against his. 
His hands, that slightly trembled, smoothed over your hips trying to pull your body so that it was more so flush against his. You moaned softly, your hands running over his jumper covered shoulders, fingers digging and pulling at the material just below the nape of his neck. 
The chair beneath you moved lightly against the floor, not quite a scrape but a dull drag. Neither of you broke the kiss, but his hands against you allowed fingers to dig in to hold you steady to him so if you were to fall from where you were sitting, he still had you. 
His lips slowed, moving to press against your cheeks again as he panted and his warmth breath bounced off your skin. “Think I got it,” he heaved. 
“Do you?”
Harry hummed his ‘yea’, before pressing his lips so tenderly to your chin and the underside of your jaw. He felt how you swallowed heavily, throat dry from the way your mouth hung open and your neck further exposed itself as you lolled your head back. 
You were falling further and further back, finding it hard to stay upright as he devoured you and made you weaker with each pulling kiss. His groans were needy, muffled and making your ache. While yours were silent and making his desperate to pull something from you. To build is confidence in that he was doing something right, you liked it this way too. 
Hands fumbled and dragged upwards at your skirt, faintly aware now how it was similar - if not the same one - to the garment you wore to his show. 
“Gonna take this off properly,” he mumbled, feeling the way your hips moved slightly from his hands to roll over him. 
“You don’t have to-“
“No?” 
Your voices were rushed as you spoke to each other, barely audible but loud enough all the same. His head was knocked back slightly as you hovered over him and you found yourself admiring his blissed out face even only in the lead up.
This was a sight that you hadn’t received last time, and if you had your way it was one you were going to greedily enjoy in all its glory.
Like watching the way his eyes closed and he softly grinned, the left side of his teeth started to show as the one side of his face reacted first while your hands blindly moved to lift up his jumper and the white tee he had on underneath, to allow you to find the button of his corduroys.
“What ya doing?”
“Nothing,” you mused. 
He pulled a face, the kind that down turned his lips, eyebrows raised and head slightly tilted to the side. The kind that had you smiling. 
“Not trying to get m’trousers around m’ankles for a second time within a week then?”
You giggled. “No.”
“Please do.”
A low moan left you as you pressed your forehead to his jaw and dropped your eyes. Your hands slowly started to pull at the brass button and pop it open before seeking out the zip thanks to his desperate plea, encouraging you to continue. 
Hands quickly sought out the waistband of the trousers and gently pulled at the item. From the way that you were sat, you knew there was no way you were doing to make them budge.
“Stand up fo’ me,” he mumbled, quickly helping you get off his lap so that he could make light work of his clothing and pull down his trousers and underwear. 
His bare bum made easy contact with the cushion leather beneath him, eyes carefully watching you as your hands moved to underneath your skirt. 
The fabric of your underwear slipped so easily down your legs, his eyes just about caught the sight of them as they pooled against your ankles and you kicked them away. 
Legs pressed together, you slowly untucked the v-necked blouse you had chosen and pulled it over your head. Wearing nothing but a fancy black bra, and a tight little skirt you hastily snatched for your wine and took a hefty gulp.
You could feel his eyes on you, a gruff groan catching in the back of his throat and when you finally turned your eyes from where they had been looking down at your heaving chest and how great this bra made your boobs look, causing him to move his hand down to start playing with himself. 
His name left your lips in a breathy gasp, causing you to look up quite surprised at the find of his right hand gently tugging at his hard length.
“Keepin’ me waitin’,” he groaned, his left hand sloppily reached for the back of the collar of his jumper and tee, pulling the item roughly over his head.
“Fuck sake,” he mumbled under his breath, agitated that he was unable to get both items of in one go.
“Smooth.”
Harry stared up at you with a playful squint, before he gently fell back and moved the chair as he did so, the dull scrape heard once more. 
And if you didn’t know he was flushed before, when you first kissed, you were definitely aware now. His eyes were blown out and hungry as they devoured you. Hair wildly haphazard before he let go of himself with a soft slap of his skin and harshly pushed his fingers through it.
“‘S it still a couple of quid for a strip of three,” his words brought you back to him. This smugness radiated off of him as he groaned and leaned forward to push his trousers down all of the way. Over his vans and socked feet, before he toed them off as well be harshly pulled at his white sport socks. 
You didn’t even need for him to explain what he meant, staying silent as you watched his hands tug at his corduroys from the floor and retrieve his wallet. As his fingers moved around to find a couple of quid, the jangle of the coins was taunting. 
One leg crossed over the other, you swayed and found yourself blushing when he looked up at you once he’d managed to find enough money and then some. With his wallet thrown on the table, he stood proudly from the seat and closed the short gap between your both.
Leaning forward he easily took your lips with his own before pulling away. With his face still close to yours he whispered, “Promise not to look at my arse.”
He didn’t hang around long enough for your reply, instead turning away and brazenly giving you all the time you would ever need to admire him, his fantastic bum and his hairy legs before he opted for a jog-walk type of thing, suddenly conscious that he was absolutely walking around naked from the waist down in a pub owned by your parents. 
While you waited you took a quick pull from his whiskey, needing the heftier burn for Dutch courage. Nervousness returned when you heard the endings of what you believed to be Harry whistling. 
“Machine ate all m’fuckin’ change,” he grumbled, regardless of the twinkle in his eye at the strip of overpriced condoms he had managed to score from the men’s bathroom. “‘S Durex. Business must be booming, your Dad’s definitely gone up in the world.” 
“Please don’t talk about my Dad.”
He smiled brightly before he reached for your face with one hand and pulled you towards him mumbling his ‘sorry’s’ against your lips as he gave you several kisses in quick succession. 
His other arm loosely wrapped around your back and pulled you with him as he walked backwards and slowly lowered himself back onto his previous seat. The chair creaked as you joined him, slipping into his lap and feeling the way he was smiling now.
Pulling away from your kiss, he quickly tore away one of the condoms allowing the others to fall without much care to the floor. Teeth took a hold of the foil-like packaging and he tore it not so elegantly with his eagerness.
With his cock nestled in the crease of his own thigh now, the heat radiating from it matched your own agonising yearning. Scooting back to give him space, you heard him groan as he gently rolled the condom down onto himself. Eyes looking up just in time to see him knocking his head back and breathing deeply through nose. The foil-like packaging was back in between his teeth once more as his hands were otherwise preoccupied.
Slowly your hand reached up to take it from his mouth, feeling some playful resistance as Harry continued to hold it in his teeth. His eyes were open and boyishly sincere, as you tugged at the item and he finally released it when you lightly laughed. 
“Gi’me a kiss.”
Obliging him, you leant forward and slotted your mouths together a lot easier than you had done at the start of the night. A heat built easily between the two of you, as Harry gave you his tongue and you felt the flex of his jaw under your hand as he worked your mouths together.
He was eager, his hands tightening on your waist before he growled when he understood he had to grab handfuls of skirt before he could cup your backside. But when his skin met yours and you ground down onto his lap, the groan that left him was the most animalistic sound imaginable. 
The frown your face fell into showed your desire to whimper, as he kept you atop him and marvelled in the way you writhed, both from satisfaction and keenness at the pressure of his cock against you. 
“Can I have you again?” He asked, the startings of sweaty hair being pushed off your face. His eyes peered at you, searching for his answer as you seemed to be able to do nothing but pant and look back at him yearningly. “Are you letting me?”
You dragged your fingers down his t-shirt covered torso and lifted it slightly just to see the quiver of his stomach as pulled you onto him once more. 
“Like this?” you voiced, meekly.
“‘F this is what you like then, yea’”, he breathed into your mouth, hands shifting your pliant body. “Is this what you want?”
You wordlessly nod, mouth falling open in a breathy gasp when he managed to move you so he sat so enticingly at your entrance. He was teasing both yourself and him, wanting to keep you both on the edge. 
Harry blinked a few times as he looked at you, and you revelled in the way he couldn’t seem to concentrate. His hands held your flesh tightly, fingertips dipping into the skin of your bum cheeks as he gently guided you down.
An unattractive and dull, quite strangled noise, left your throat as you let your forehead fall against his temple. Eyes falling down you see the cups of your bra fall slack, you felt his hands softly gliding over your shoulder blades and shoulders. 
He rid you of your bra, hands moving to your chest to squeeze your breasts. His jaw fell slack when you found yourself sitting snugly on his lap - on him - settled and already feeling spent.
This was so different compared to the last time; if not overwhelming so because of the way you both appeared to be so present. Each movement of your hips, and the way they rolled and grinded and dragged felt too much. So much so that you had become nothing more than a mess of short, quick breathing and blushing, sweaty cheeks. 
Slack-jaw, you were unable to find it in you to return Harry’s kisses, and his joyful, breathy chuckle seemed to lead you to believe he was fine with it. In fact he was happy to keep going as you were. 
Your movements were frantic, and despite the build up, not entirely driven by lust either. Harry continued to encourage you to move as you were; slow, grinding motions on his lap that caused the filthiest of groans and dirtiest of laughs from the two of you. Laughter that was only made stronger as the chair that held you both started to creak too. 
You couldn’t do much about it though other than to breathe into each other’s mouth, and rock your hips together with more fervour each time. 
“Yea’,” he breathed against your lips, left hand at the back of your head holding you to him, while his right rested just above your bum. “‘S better. That’s better.”
It was better. Better than last time. Better than anything before. 
And while it hadn’t been frantic before, it was now as your legs that were hanging down either side of the chair started to tremble and your toes started to dig into the worn carpet beneath them. Hips knocking and your clit dragging heavenly against his public bone, you grasped his name as you buried your face into his neck and dug your nails into his nape.
Harry hissed his approval which fell to a groan as your nails pushed up into his hair and lightly pulled as you sought leverage. There were so many things you were learning this time around and his penchant for liking his hair pulled from time to time, was one of those things. 
“God, ‘m gonna come soon,” he admitted, gruntly as he forced your hips down as he anchored his legs and widened his seating position. “Are you close?”
“Yeah,” you whined. “Yes. Like this-“
And as you pressed your face to his once more, he was everywhere. Soft but hard, loving but commanding. Smelled like clean washing detergent but of country air. Inviting and alluring, allowing you your lingering kisses between grounding breaths that became staccato in unison with the movement of your hips. 
You aren’t ashamed of the whines that escaped your throat as you squeezed down on his cock, praised by indecipherable works that left Harry but were nothing more to you than lips moving against your rough and dry ones. Word that made the burning feeling of your pending orgasm spread through your entire body, warming you and setting you alight.
It was long and deep, with your toes curling into the carpet they were pressed against now. Barely able to catch your breath, sucking in harshly and shaking. 
And when you came to, thoroughly exhausted, you noticed that he was waiting for your say so. That he could let go and enjoy the pleasure brought about by your shared labour. 
“Coming-“ was all the warning that you got and was enough to encourage you to watch him as he came, his face completely void of anything other than pure pleasure. Wrinkles and frowns fade, his mouth falling open with his pink lips glinting prettily under the dim Christmas lights around you.
His forehead gleamed with sweat as he wrapped his arms around you tightly and his hips bucked up one, two and three times for good measure. “Fuck me,” he heaved gruffly.
You were suddenly desperate to feel his lips on yours despite the way you both continued to fight to get your breath back, but settled for resting them against the skin of his cheek, which was hot to the touch. 
When you felt Harry start to go soft, you reluctantly pulled away and let him slip out of you. He wasn’t so keen to let you get too far, holding you just that bit higher than before with his hand cupping gently but firmly at your hip. “Where’d you think you’re going,” he hummed, eyes still closed as he continued to heavily inhale and exhale. 
You softly smiled, taking in his soft face and responded by nuzzling close to him again. 
Nowhere. Somewhere. Anywhere with him.
A place where only the two of you knew, like the back of your hand. The same way you knew each other. Now and possibly forever.
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BIG EMOTIONAL HEAVY VENT
TW; implications of r*pe, unhappy home life, wishful thinking ie the sinclairs, bad parenting, emotional neglect i think???? 
part of why i cling to the sinclairs sm is bc i dont ever really feel LOVED in my life. mum always makes comments which make me feel bad (most recently, “you make really funny noises when you’re uncomfortable *mocks me for two minutes by making the same noises* it’s really cute” after she said, “the only reason it takes me ten minutes to do your hair but it takes you half an hour is because i dont stop when you say it hurts” or “your hair is really dry” and then tells me what to do about it and then gets pissy when i say i don’t want to and makes it out like i’m being lazy) and her partner straight up doesn’t care about me. i tried to show him something today i was proud of (my study desk layout) and he said, “this is a desk?” and just left and my brother (previously my nb sibling) doesn’t really care either and he suffers like i do and i just dont ever feel loved or needed or wanted in my home life. 
since i was 15 when i found out that i wasnt made under nice circumstances (you know what i mean) i’ve tried so so hard to be my best self every day so i can make up for how i was made but ive never felt like mum’s proud or like she loves me and today my brother, who’s at his dad’s, phoned up and mum wasn’t even really listening to him and kept eyerolling at me and it’s made me re-realise that she never should have had us and i feel sick and sad and like there’s no point to anything i do because she’s never gonna be proud or anything
and now i’m crying and i just think i cling to the sinclairs bc i truly wanna believe they’d love me for ME. i’d be in a terrible and tragic situation if i lived in ambrose, i know, but if i was very lucky maybe they’d love me or keep me around bc i can cook and clean and i’d be useful and idk i’m just upset and im stressed and i’m scared and i’m crying and i want
bo to say, “oh, darlin’, c’mere” and pull me into him so tightly that all i can do is rest my head in the crook of his neck and he kisses the top of my head and we just stand there like that
vincent to cup the back of my head and bend down to press our foreheads tightly together and make his “mmf” noise bc he can’t get close enough and neither can i
and for lester to cuddle with me and jonesy while we watch one of my favourite films and if i cry, he just sighs gently and tucks me into his side and cracks a joke to make me laugh
i’m just really upset and no one in my house really sees me, i can’t help feeling, and i have to wonder how much i contribute to this situation and if i make it worse than it is or if it IS actually like this bc im always questioning my thoughts and my actions and it is so tiring bc i’m never enough for myself or even for my parents no matter how hard i try. i told mum i only got 4 hours the night before last bc i was up late studying and she said, “you’re an adult, it’s your choice” and YEAH but like ???? that was a good opportunity to say something like being proud??? 
whether i do or don’t study, she’s never proud or if she is, she never says so i wonder why the fuck i bother but at the same time i bother bc i need to make a good future for myself or i’ll be stuck here in their house forever and nothing scares me more than the thought of becoming my mum. i used to admire her so much and i used to want to be her but nowadays whenever she’s like “you’re so much like me” or her partner tells me i’m like mum, i cringe and feel white hot jolts of fear and i can only think ‘please no’.
idk just since i was 15 ive been more and more aware of how much my mum shouldn’t have been a mum and it makes me feel like i ruined her life so i keep trying to be my best self to compensate but she never seems to notice
and i cant stop crying holy fuck okay that’s enough i just gotta post this, get it outta my hair, then i gotta finish up this stuff i’m working on and if i’m lucky i can go to bed early-ish (before midnight) - gotta be up at 530am for work tomorrow😩
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lightininglydia · 3 years
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The Rest Will Be History - George Weasley
Pairings: George Weasley x non specific house reader, Sirius Black x reader (parental), slight Remus Lupin x reader ( parental), George x reader x Fred (platonic)
Warnings: lots of arguing, feelings of abandonment etc 
Summary: You wonder why you aren’t enough for Sirius and why you always come second to everyone but George reminds you that you’ll never come second to him
Trope: Childhood best friends to lovers 
Word Count: 4.9K
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You sighed as you continued to argue with Sirius over Harry. You had asked him to do one thing which was to show up and be there for you but instead he blew you off for Harry again. 
“ come on (y/n) don’t be ridiculous Harry needs me “ Sirius sighed feeling exhausted 
“ so do I “ you stated feeling as if he was just pushing your feelings aside 
“ He’s my godson! “ he shouted at you now feeling angry at how selfish you were being
“ and I’m your daughter! but that doesn’t seem to matter to you now does it? “ you shouted back feeling hurt by your fathers words 
“ Harry doesn’t have any parents “ Sirius tried reasoning with you 
“ yeah well by the looks of it neither do I “ you whispered before turning away from him and walking out 
“ He’s trying you know “ Remus said from beside you 
“ for who Rem? For you? For Harry? Because he’s certainly not trying for me. I asked him to do this one thing for me! To be there for ME today but he just couldn’t do that now could he! He was too excited to take Harry back to school shopping and to spend time with Harry!” You snapped feeling tired of having to defend your behavior 
“ he was locked away for years and- “ Remus started but you quickly cut him off knowing you had heard enough.
“ No Remus that’s not an out.... he doesn’t get to use that as an excuse as to why he pays more attention to Harry because for 12 years I had to live without my father! Harry didn’t even know he existed! While I sat there for TWELVE years missing him everyday! begging and pleading for someone to listen to me when I said he was innocent but no one did! Harry’s not the only one that lost everything that night and it’s about time you all recognize that “ you spat before storming upstairs 
Once you reached the top of the stairs you were met with several pairs of eyes. They all wore expressions of sympathy and pain for you. Especially Harry. 
You sighed before pulling the younger boy in for a hug.
“ it’s not your fault okay? I’m sorry that we’ve practically dragged you in the middle of this argument “ you mumbled 
“ it’s alright... I didn’t know about today if I had I wouldn’t have gone with him and-“ 
“ Harry.... this is on Sirius and Sirius alone okay? I don’t want you worrying about this alright? “ you asked him as you pulled away 
“ alright “ he answered with a small smile on his face. 
You returned the smile before walking into your room. Thankfully none of them had followed you so you could begin packing your things in silence. You couldn’t possibly stay here any longer, it was too painful and troubling for you. It felt as if you were always second best to everyone... to Sirius, to Remus... you’d even become second to Molly well third considering her actual children come first.
You were sick of having to beg for your own father’s attention and sick of wondering why you weren’t enough for him. Always coming second to Harry no matter what. A part of you knew it was because being with Harry made him feel close to James and Lily but that wasn’t an excuse for him to neglect you and ignore you when you needed him most. 
“ tell me you’re not leaving “ George said as he entered the room without knocking 
“ I could tell you that but unfortunately I’d be lying also there’s this thing called knocking.... you should try it “ you shrugged
“ ahh yes I’ll be sure to keep that in mind next time.... so you’re really going to leave me all alone here to suffer “ he sighed before dramatically throwing himself on your bed 
“ always one for the dramatics..... it’s only a few days George “ you stated as you threw yourself next to him 
“ yeah but once we get back to school things are different.... it’s our last year (y/n) we’ll hardly have time to just be us and then before we know it everything is done and we part ways and then who knows the next time we’ll see each other “ he rambled 
“ All the time. You’ll be running the shop with Fred and I’ll be taking extra courses to become a professor and we’ll see each other whenever we want... we’ll be living the lives we’ve dreamed of since first year and everything will be perfect Georgie “ 
“ I’m sorry about Sirius “ he whispered 
“ yeah... me too “ you said before leaning your head on his shoulder 
“ is there anything I can do to make you stay.... we could build a Fort out of blankets and pillows like we used to and watch muggle films and have mum make us some hot chocolate and just escape everything and everyone for a while “ He said softly as he ran his fingers through your hair 
“ you really want me to stay? “ 
“ of course.... I always want you around “ he smiled softly while looking down at you 
“ then I’ll stay “ you declared 
“ you’d really stay just for me? “ he asked 
“ I’d do anything for you George.... you should know that by now “ 
“ I’d do anything for you too “ 
You looked up at him and smiled knowing that no matter what happens in life you’d always have George Weasley by your side and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
“ Oi! You two get up let’s go mum says it’s time for dinner “ Fred shouted 
Before you could stand up you found yourself being lifted up and thrown over George’s shoulder 
“ George Fabian Weasley you put me down right this instant! “ you shouted as he ran down the hallway and to the stairs 
“ no can do love “ he laughed as he ran down the stairs
You couldn’t help but laugh. George always seemed to put a smile on your face no matter what.
“ George put (y/n) down! “ you heard Molly shout but George still didn’t listen as he continued to carry you right to the table. 
You were a laughing mess by the time he set you down in the chair next to his at the dinner table. You felt slightly dizzy but the feeling of happiness that coursed through your body made it worth it. 
“ Thank you “ you whispered to George ignoring all the eyes on the two of you 
“ for what? “ he questioned as he leaned in closer to you 
“ always being here.... no one makes me smile like you do so thank you “ 
He just smiled at you before giving you a quick kiss on your forehead and pulling away, turning his attention towards Molly who now stood at the head of the table. 
“ I know these next few days are going to be a bit hectic and this may be our last dinner just us so I wanted to toast everyone especially Fred, George and (y/n) as they go into their last year at Hogwarts. I’ve gotten to watch the three of you grow up together and I am so proud of all three of you “ she said with tears in her eyes. 
Tears pricked in your eyes knowing Molly was like a second or third mother to you . I mean the woman had practically raised you alongside Narcissa much to Lucuis’s dismay.
“ Thank you Molly “ your voice shook as you spoke, an indicator you were trying not to cry. 
“ oh my dear.... it has been an honor to see you grow into this fierce and strong woman. I want to thank you for always looking after my boys and Ginny and let you know that I am so proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished. I cannot wait to see you teach at Hogwarts in the next few years. You’re like a daughter to me and I feel so grateful to have you in our lives “ 
You couldn’t stop the tears from falling at her words. You stood up and made your way over to her practically throwing yourself in her arms, hugging her tight. 
“ Thank you for always being there for me and welcoming me into your home. Encouraging me over the years and overall being the parent I never had “ you whispered in her ear knowing that no one else needed to hear what you were saying.
You pulled away and gave her a smile before returning to your seat next to George who wore the biggest smile on his face. 
He loved that his family loved you just as much as he did. 
“ I’d also like to make a toast to (y/n)..... I know I’m not usually one for the sappy stuff but you’re my best friend and pretty much sister and I’m so proud of you. We’ve been by each other’s side for as long as I can remember and you’ve been our biggest supporter. Staying up late to help us come up with products or to help us study, always looking out for us and Ron and Ginny.... I can’t believe you’ve spent all these years rebelling along with us just to become a professor but I’m proud of you none the less and I love you like a lot.... you’re family to us Weasley’s and if Mum had her way you’d already be married in “ Fred laughed which also caused you to laugh 
“ I love you too Freddie “ you laughed before standing up and pulling him in for a hug. Once he pulled away and sat down you stayed standing up 
“ since we’re toasting and giving speeches I’d like to make one too..... I wouldn’t be the person I am today without all of you here and I appreciate having all of you in my life. However.... these two red headed twins here are the most important people in my life. So I want to make a toast to the two of you. You guys are two of the smartest most innovative people I’ve ever met. I mean what 14,15,16,17 year olds do you know that can do what you’ve done? I have no doubt in my mind that with whatever you decide to do in life that you’ll excel at it. I believe in the two of you with everything I can and I love you guys so much “ 
They both stood up and pulled you in for a hug which caused you to laugh. When you pulled away you all sat down and looked around at everyone at the table. They all wore proud smiles and most were teary eyed after seeing just how close the three of you truly were. You however didn’t miss the sad look on Sirius’s face, it caused your chest to sink and the happiness you felt to immediately void your body. 
Before you could say something to him and owl appeared at the window causing Molly to rush over and open it. You recognized the owl as one of the Malfoy’s owl’s so you knew it was here for you. The owl quickly flew over to you and dropped a letter in your lap before flying away. You ignored all the questions and quickly opened the letter. 
My dearest (y/n),
I wish I could be with you in the next few days as you prepare for your final year at hogwarts but unfortunately given our current situation that’s not possible.
I fear for Draco’s safety in the coming years and would like to ask if you’d look after him for me this year....Look out for one another like you’ve done for so many years despite all that’s going on. Take care of and love each other. 
It appears we’re going to be on opposing sides of this upcoming war and I want you to know that no matter what happens that I will always love you like a daughter. No matter who you align yourself with or who you love or what you are you will always be family to me. 
I wish you nothing but the best in your final year and want you to know that I believe in you. I know you’re going to do great things. I love you, stay safe and take care of yourself 
Love - Cissy
You folded the letter back up as a few more years slipped from your eyes. You sniffled before smiling. 
“ well who was it from? “ Remus asked 
“ Cissy.... she just wanted to wish me luck “ you beamed with tear filled eyes 
“ Cissy? As in Narcissa Malfoy? You trust that retched woman? “ Sirius asked with a venomous tone taking you by surprise a d causing your blood to boil 
“ retched woman? That retched woman took me in and raised me while you were in Azkaban! You have no right to speak on things you know nothing about “ you bit back causing everyone’s eyes to go wide. 
You hardly ever spoke to anyone like that so when you spoke to your own father like that it shocked everyone however you were extremely close with Narcissa.
“ (y/n) Andromeda black you will not speak to me like that in my own house! “ Sirius shouted 
“ it’s Malfoy and as of (y/b/d) it was made my house. Your mother hated you Sirius the tapestry proves it. The house and everything she ever had was to be given to me when I turned 17 so I’ll speak to you however I please in MY house that I’ve allowed you to stay in “ your tone was icy as your glare hardened 
“ what? “ he asked baffled 
“ it’s true.... your mother left the house to her only grandchild. She was raised by the Malfoy’s so she figured she would carry on the black family legacy instead she’s here fighting alongside the order and helping to keep you safe.... it might help if you pay an ounce of attention to her considering you’re only safe here because of her “ Remus said calmly 
The room had fallen silent and everything was now awkward. You felt bad for how you had snapped at Sirius but at the same time the way he had been treating you lately had been making your blood boil. 
“ well.... I think I’ll just head to bed now “ Sirius announced before standing up and making his way out of the room. 
You sighed as you looked over at Remus 
“ thank you Rem.... I’m sorry for all this arguing and I know that must have been hard for you “ 
“ It wasn’t.... yes Sirius is my best friend but you’re my god daughter. He trusted me to protect you, keep you safe and stand up for you so that’s exactly what I’ll do even if it‘s him I have to fight “ 
You just smiled at him before looking around at everyone. 
“ okay let’s eat! “ you exclaimed. 
Dinner passed quickly everyone making small talk and enjoying themselves. Everyone except you, the thought of Sirius sitting alone in his room instead of down here where he should be was weighing heavily on you. 
“ go “ George said suddenly, snapping you out of your thoughts 
“ what? “ 
“ go get him “ he said while motioning for you to get up and go 
“ how did you-“ 
“ because I know you “ he beamed causing you to look up at him with a look of adoration on your face. 
“ stop ogling me and go “ George laughed 
Your face turned red before nodding and standing up, quickly excusing yourself and running up the stairs. You quietly walked over to his room and opened the door.
“ you’ve spent enough time alone and in the dark don’t you think “ your voice was soft as you looked down on the man who sat in the corner all alone 
“ used to it by now “ he muttered 
“ come back downstairs.... you shouldn’t be up here alone when there’s a room full of people that love you downstairs “ 
“ the one I want to love me the most is the one who seemingly loves me the least “ 
“ If I loved you the least do you think I’d be standing here? “ 
“ did they really raise you? The Malfoy’s? “ 
“ yes.... they did and they did a good job. Lucius was more focused on raising Draco and Narcissa was more focused on raising me. She’s the closet thing I have to a mother besides molly “ 
There was silence for a moment until you decided to finally ask the question that had been looming over you for months. 
“ why aren’t I good enough.... I mean why is Harry so important to you but I’m not “ 
Sirius looked up at you, a look of pain and guilt spreading across his face at your words. 
“ oh (y/n) it’s not that it’s- “ he stopped, trying to find the words. 
“ I used to write to you.... I could never send them of course but I always wrote you letters telling you about myself and my friends... how my day was going and how no matter what anyone said I’d always believe you were innocent... tell you that I would give absolutely anything for someone else to realize it so we could finally be a family “ you stopped to take a breath before continuing 
“ When you broke out I was so happy.... the childlike fantasies could finally be real and you’d come and find me and tell me how you thought of me everyday but you didn’t.... you didn’t do any of that instead you came for Harry. You told Harry how you wanted nothing more than to be a family and I had to find out from Professor Snape that you had come to the castle. It’s not Harry’s fault and it’s not your fault that you were thrown in Azkaban but I can’t help but wonder.... why was Harry worth breaking out of Azkaban for but I wasn’t? How many years did you wait? Did you ever think of me? “ 
Sirius looked up at you with nothing but pain in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but he couldn’t because he didn’t have an answer to any of your questions. 
“ guess I have my answers then......I expect you downstairs in the next few minutes or I’ll send Kreacher up here to bother you until you make a reappearance “ You didn’t give him time to respond as you turned and exited his room quickly. 
You made your way back downstairs and into the dining room where all eyes were suddenly on you. Remus looked at you with a questioning look but you just shook your head. You quickly sat back down next to George before speaking up. 
“ He’ll be down in a moment “ and a few people smiled thinking that had meant you’d fixed your relationship with one another but George and Remus knew that wasn’t the case. 
Sirius eventually came down and you avoided the glances thrown your way from him, Remus and George. They all tried reading you to grasp how you were feeling but you were much more focused on your conversation with Ginny. 
Slowly but surely everything died down and people started heading up to bed. You promised Molly you’d clean everything up so she could have a break, She tried fighting with you on it but you were very stubborn something you seemed to have in common with Sirius. 
Soon the only two people left were you and George. You could tell he was tired and were almost positive the only reason he stayed was to find out what had happened. 
“ Go to bed Georgie.... I can tell that you’re tired “ you said as you stood up and began cleaning up, using magic to help. 
“ not until you tell me what’s bothering you so much “ he responded sleepily 
“ I don’t know what you’re talking about “ you muttered 
“ (y/n) I’ve know you almost our whole lives.... I know when somethings wrong so please just talk to me “ he begged 
You sighed before setting everything down, casting a cleaning spell and looking at him. 
“ you wanna know what wrong George? I’ll tell you what’s wrong! I am so sick of coming second and never being enough for anyone! I’ve come second to Draco my entire life and now I get to come second to Harry! I asked him if he ever thought of me while he was locked away and why Harry was worth breaking out for and I wasn’t and he was SPEECHLESS! He couldn’t say ANYTHING! He couldn’t tell me that he loved me and that all he did was think of me while he was away and you wanna know why George? It’s because he doesn’t love me! At least not like he loves Harry and he couldn’t tell me he thought of me everyday because he DIDN’T! He thought of Harry! “ your tone was a lot harsher than you intended for it to be but you couldn’t be bothered to apologize. 
“ Well then he’s an idiot! They all are! Anyone that could ever put you second is absolutely mad! You’re the most beautiful and wonderful person I’ve ever met and anyone that doesn’t want to love you or get to know you is so unbelievably stupid! There is no one in the world like you.... you’re one of a kind and everyone that looks past you or that puts you second is missing out on the best opportunity of their life! “ he explained 
“ and what would that be? “ you asked 
“ Getting to be loved by you.... I know this might not be the best time to say this but if I don’t say it now I don’t think I ever will. I love you (y/n)..... I love you so much it hurts! I’ve been such a coward all these years never being able to tell you but I love you! If it wasn’t so bloody late I’d be shouting it out loud for everyone to hear! I mean you’re magnificent! The most wonderful person I’ve ever met and I am so so lucky to have had you in my life all these years! You’re more than enough for me in fact I don’t think I’m quite enough for you! and the only time you’ll ever come second is when we’re married and have kids “ he said with certainty 
“ you’ll always be enough for me Georgie “ was all you could manage to say 
“ So.... a September wedding then? “ he joked 
“ September? I was think an August wedding “ you joked back 
“ I guess I’ll have to go buy a ring then “ he laughed 
“ I guess I should probably tell you I love you too then because I do Georgie.... I love you so much I’ve just been to scared to do anything about it in fear of losing you “ you confessed 
“ you could never lose me love.... unfortunately you’re stuck with me for eternity “ 
“ so.... married with kids? You must have our entire future planned out in that head of yours huh “ 
“ it’s like you said.... I’ll have the shop and you’ll be a professor! Then one day I’ll get down on one knee and the rest will be history “ he whispered 
“ I wouldn’t want it any other way “ you whispered back 
“ did I just witness a love confession, marriage proposal and promise of children!? Bloody hell let’s graduate first why don’t we “ Fred exclaimed as he made his way down the stairs and towards the two of you
“ you did say earlier if your mother had her way I’d already be married into the family so really we’re just doing her a favor “ you said 
“ Oi would you three shut it! I get it you’re in love and blah blah blah but some of us are trying to sleep “ Ron exclaimed from the top of the stairs 
“ Ron you say that as if we didn’t just stand at the top of the stairs listening to everything... “ Ginny spoke 
“ Who’s been listening! “ you exclaimed 
“ everyone “ Remus yelled down 
“ Remus! “ you shouted 
“ I expect George to ask me formally if he can marry my goddaughter when the time comes now goodnight everyone “ he said which caused you to let out a soft chuckle 
“ I think you should ALL head to bed “ you laughed but then a sinking feeling set it 
“ Freddie.... when Gin said everything did-“ 
“ yeah.... Sirius and Harry looked quite upset and Remus pretty much had to hold his tongue from saying anything nasty to Sirius “ Fred mumbled causing a frown to settle upon your face 
“ This sucks “ you huffed before sliding down the wall and sitting on the floor. 
Fred and George looked at one another before doing the same on either side of you. You smiled at both of them for a moment before looking down at the ground. 
“ I don’t mean to make Harry feel bad I really don’t. It’s not his fault.... it’s just so hard when all Sirius cares about is him. I mean in ways I get it I really do.... he’s the child of his two best friends and he wants to love and protect Harry and make sure he knows he does in fact have a family and people that care about him but what about me? It sounds selfish to always be thinking what about me but I’m serious- “ 
“ no I’m Sirius “ a voice interrupted you causing you to look up and lock eyes with Sirius. 
You wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t help but laugh at the very poor and overused joke of his. 
“ Well Freddie I say we head off to bed.... I’ll see you in the morning love and we’ll chat more about us “ George said before practically yanking Fred up and dragging him up the stairs. 
Sirius made his way over to you and slid down the wall so he could sit next to you. There was an awkward silence, neither one of you really knowing what to say. 
“ I did.... I did think about you and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I did. And I’m sorry for prioritizing Harry and overlooking you. All these years couldn’t have been easy on you and I guess I never really took a minute to recognize that. It’s been so long that sometimes I forget to acknowledge that he killed your mother the same night he killed James and Lily.... I often think if I had gotten there just a little while earlier James and I could have held him off long enough for your mother and Lily to take the two of you and get away but instead your mother rushed downstairs with James thinking they’d be able to hold him off.... stupid git left his wand in the bathroom and I don’t even want to think about- “ Sirius trailed off not wanting to say what happened next 
“ I found you in Harry’s crib.... it was so hard to see everyone like that it really was.... then I was sent away never knowing if I’d ever see you again. I held onto hope I’d see both you and Harry again and over time I guess I began to prioritize him and that was unfair of me.... I should have tried harder for you. I should have loved you more and I should have come to you first not Harry. If you’ll let me I’d really like to try and make things up to you over the next few months.... try and be the father you deserve “ 
“ I would love that.... but that doesn’t mean you should stop doing things with Harry or think of him less. You need to balance it out because I do want to be a family and Harry’s apart of that family “ you mumbled 
A large grin spread across Sirius’s face. 
“ good good.... we’ll finally be a family “ he beamed before pulling you in for a side hug causing you to chuckle. 
You then pulled away and stood up, extending a hand to help Sirius up. 
“ I’m not that old “ he scoffed as he stood up on his own causing you to laugh. 
“ I better get to bed.... I’ve got a lot to do tomorrow “ you sighed, dreading all that was to come in the next year. He just nodded and began following you upstairs. 
Before you knew it you both stood outside of your rooms. 
“ Goodnight (y/n) “ 
“ Goodnight dad “ you said, shocking him slightly 
“ I love you “ he said sincerely 
“ I love you too “ and with that you went into your room. 
You made your way over to your bed and noticed George lying there half awake obviously waiting for you. 
“ well hello there “ you laughed as you grabbed your pajamas 
“ I figured I’d sneak in here and wait for you... to make sure you were okay and all “ he mumbled sleepily causing your heart to flutter 
You quickly changed, not caring if George saw or not considering he’d changed you a time or two when you were too drunk after a famous Gryffindor party to do it yourself. 
You sighed as you finally got into your bed, pulling the covers up as you moved closer to George. He got the hint and lifted his arm so you could move even closer and lay your head on his chest. He smiled at the sight of you cuddled up into him as he wrapped his arm around you. 
“ I was meant to go back to my room love “ he laughed 
“ I’ve decided that is in fact not allowed and that I will be holding you prisoner this evening... you make an excellent cuddle buddy Georgie “ He just laughed before pulling you closer. You sighed as you buried your head into his chest, inhaling his scent and finally feeling a moment of true peace and happiness. Soon the two of you drifted off to sleep, not a worry in your mind as the two of you found the utmost comfort in one another’s arms. 
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Dad!Harry talks to his daughter about her questioning sexuality PART 2
part one
(Thank you all for liking the last post, my heart is so full.)
More about the twins, parents' discussions, and a girl's day of insight and vulnerability.
WC: 3.5 k
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After tucking June in bed, much to her playful annoyance, Harry made his way to the bedroom where the love of his life was resting. Crossing the hallway, he smiled to himself. There was nothing he loved more than being a trusted father. Having this responsibility lifted him, it guided him to be even better. Just replaying the conversation he had in his head was bringing extra moisture to his eyes. What could he say? He was a natural softie, this (y/n) knew so it was no different with his babies.
Right before making it to his shared bedroom, he instead turned to make his way to the younger ones' room. (y/n) might possibly be crossed with him if she finds out he awoke them just for some kisses, but she didn't have to know.
Shuffling into the room, lit by a nightlight that displayed soft stars on the kids' ceiling, he noticed both of them whispering to one another. Having them share a room was the conscious decision of the parents. Although they had a few rooms to spare, they preferred the twins to sleep together, as they quickly noticed how the two reacted when apart. Oftentimes, they'll find Mick in Mazzy's bed, or vice-versa. It is clear to the parents that the twins are most comfortable with one another, and separating them seemed borderline abusive.
"Hmmm, what're you two on about? Late, innit?" Harry softly spoke, with a smile on his face to clear any seriousness in his words.
"Dadaaaa" Mazzy dragged, smiling that her father was here. She sat up on her bed, making grabby arms as to drag her father further into the room. He was so weak for his babies and quickly made his way to her.
"Mazzy meet friends today. Talk dada," Mick explained in an annoyed tone, which Harry obviously found hilarious. Pardon him for not knowing the basis of their conversations. As he smiled to himself, he wrapped his arm around Mazzy as she further burrowed himself on his side, and he extended his hand to Mick (whose bed was a very short distance away from Mazzy's). "Bedtime dada, momma said sleep" Mick said seriously to his father as he reluctantly grabbed his hand.
Harry and (y/n) could see the personalities of the two strongly already: Mick adopted the role of the carrying older brother despite being born only six minutes before, and Mazzy the clumsy, caring younger sister. The twins upheld their roles quite well, and because of their personalities, they rarely left each others' sides.
"Oh baby, I know she did but I just want some snuggies. Don't kill me, 'kay?" Harry said, pulling his arm so Mick would get the message to hug his father. Despite wanting to seem ever-so mature, loved nothing more than to hug the most important man of his life and finally succumbed to 'snuggies'.
"Mumma said to sleep for school, dada," Mazzy inquisitively said to Harry, looking up at him questioning.
"Yes baby, you two need to start sleeping more, you'll start preschool later this year, and mums' not sure if they do nappy time like in daycare." He rubbed both of their backs in unison as he saw them interlock hands on his stomach. These moments, he thinks, are the exact reason he does what he does. He wants nothing more than to support his babies (all four, actually) and be able to watch them grow. "Just wanted to give you guys some kissies. Kissies please?" He finished by puckering his lips as he looks down at the two.
They giggle and lean up to press soft kisses on his cheeks simultaneously.
"Now what's this about some friends, Mazzy?"
"Yes papa, so nice to me. Mick wants to hear if good friends."
Harry continued to rub their backs, so proud of their bond. "Good job Mick, always taking care of your sister. You know she'll always do the same for you too."
"I know dada, told me Aidan was rude to her. We not friends again." Mick stated, again making his father's chest filled with pride.
"Good, we all know we need to treat our friends nicely but if they are not kind back, we can't let ourselves be their friends. What do we do, babes?"
The kids smiled, playfully annoyed once again yet said together: "treat people with kindness." dragging it out as most kids do with very little seriousness.
"I've gotta go now, let's tuck you both in so momma will never know I was here, 'kay?" He lifted Mick in his arms and carried him the short distance to his bed, while Mazzy tucked her legs back in her blankie. Making sure Mick was cozy, he planted a wet kiss on his forehead.
"Dadaaa" Mick smiled, knowing his father's antics by now.
After placing another kiss on Mazzy's head, he placed a palm on both of the children's bellies. "I love you two so dearly. You guys, June, and your mum are the best things in my life. Rest up so we can have another fun day tomorrow babies."
He finally made his way out of their room, seeing the two burrowings further into their respective blankets with their eyes closed filling his heart. Sneaking his phone out, he snapped a quick picture and sent it to his wife so she could keep a copy of the moment. (although, through this, he effectively ruined the small secret of waking them.) Fuck it, he'll just say this is how he found them.
-----
"She wanted to talk about the Sage situation?" (y/n) guessed, as her beloved crossed the threshold and planted himself face-first on their king bed. All spread out, he moved his back to crack it, due to the stress of every day and ... well, age.
"Said she heard about my sexuality more than yours. Bet you're jealous huh?"
"Please, I know the bond you two have. Is she okay though? You gave her the good ole' 'we'll always be there' parent talk?" (y/n) never doubted his ability to be a father, but these circumstances were a bit more sensitive than other matters. She finally shut her book, placing it on the bedside table that holds Harry and her's current reads. There was no better end to her day than kissing her babies and reading alongside the love of her life.
"She's okay, I think. It's hard for her, obviously. I hate seeing her in pain but this is just one of those things she has to do. As long as she knows we're here, I don't expect it to be too difficult?" He pondered. He did mean it, being a questioning teenager is difficult as is but adding sexuality to the equation? He was fortunate enough to be so self-assured that the concept of questioning himself wasn't that turbulent. "But she wants to hear from you too, obviously. Be prepared to share your life story babe," he giggled, turning his head to see his wife who now began to stroke his hair. God, that really did it when he was tired.
"Yeah, I think I recall her saying this week was slow since she finished exams, so would you agree that we could take a girl's day in light of it all?" She pondered, wanting to assure her daughter in the best, normal way possible.
Harry finally sat up, only to cuddle into his wife's arms. This was another reason he knew the two were soulmates: she loved being the big spoon as much as he liked being held in her arms. "Yes, definitely a good idea. Mhm, what'd I do to have someone as mindful and loving as you? M'life would be incomplete without you, you're everything to me, love." Still feeling as 'lovey-dovey' as ever, he burrowed his head further into her, almost physically absorbing the love she poured out.
"I just want her to feel normal, I guess. When I finally came out, it seemed like it was the only interesting thing about me. It was the only point of conversation for a while, and I don't want June to feel like it's such a hugely different thing. She's still our baby, always will be."
"Hmm, the parenting books have nothing on us. So happy we're a team," he says, grabbing one of her hands to intertwine their fingers. "Gives me a love boner just thinking about how good we are, God."
"Narcissistic asshole. Want a bedtime handie?"
Her words make him shudder, a moan itching to be released. "M'done for with you."
She smiles at his words, knowing that the man in her arms is unlike the general population in that he prefers her hand far over her mouth. Shifting a bit, she kept one arm around his shoulders, to keep him close, and inched the other one to his briefs. They were firm believers in comfortable sleeping, which often lead to sleeping in only undergarments or less. She began to touch him softly through the fabric, already feeling how hard he was. "Oh baby, what's got you all worked up already?" It was a taunting tone, something about their position made it common sense that he'd be more submissive tonight.
"Please, (y/n). Just a quick hand, please." He shifted his hips, trying to get her soft hand to come down harder. Lucky for him, she wasn't in a mood to see him suffer and pressed the heel of her hand more firmly. "You know exactly what that does to me. Please baby, I'll be quiet."
"I know you will, you deserve this, 'kay?" She finally ended the small foreplay and moved her fingers into his briefs. Having been with her for over 15 years, (y/n) knew exactly what got Harry off the quickest. Nothing sold him out faster than a quick, sloppy hand, and her coaxing and appraisal always made him finish embarrassingly fast. Wrapping her hand around his length, she immediately began to jerk him off, wiping his precome to make it smoother. "Such a good daddy to our babies, best father out there I swear."
Her words made him shudder, even more, her touch making him extremely sensitive. Given her arm wrapped around him, he moved his head to the crevice of her neck, feeling shy from her praise. "(y/n), you're going to-" he was interrupted by her thumbing his head again, letting out a breathy moan, "god, make me cum so quick, please."
"It's okay baby, come on now, give it to me." She smirked as she felt him press soft kisses to her neck, almost as a thank you for the fucking phenomenal handie he was receiving.
His breath increased, indicating he was nearing his peak. He began to whimper ever so slightly, wriggling in place and only pushing himself closer to her. "Cumming, god m'cumming." he moaned, finally releasing over her hand.
(y/n) didn't end there though, still dragging her hand to rub his cum down his length and creating a click-ing sound. It was left unsaid that he loved to be overstimulated and milked.
Finally pulling her hand out after Harry begged her it was enough, she got up to grab a hand towel from their en suite restroom. Coming back, she found him with his eyes shut, clearly ready for sleeping.
"Budge up, or this'll get all gross in the morning."
Moving sluggishly, he allowed her to clean. "Come on now, let me do the same to you," he slurred as he flipped on his side, patting the bed.
"No baby, that's alright. Just wanna sleep with 'ya." She smiled at him fondly, noticing his eyes once again shutting in content. The two were almost annoying cuddlers, and they were practically seared together when it came to sleeping.
"Alright, in my arms 'ya go now. Come." He said faintly as she crawled into the space he made for her. Immediately squishing her face in his chest, he wrapped both arms around her back, caging her in and digging his fingers in her loose hair. "Love you," he whispered, although given his face was over her head, it was pretty muffled.
"Love you."
------------------
"Let's do three more deep breaths, and then we can go see what your mum made for breakfast," Harry indicated, eyes still shut as he sat cross-legged by Mazzy and Mick on the floor, June also sitting on one of the twins' bed.
Before the two parents gave birth to June, Harry insisted that it would be vital to teach their children meditation: a practice that would help them understand and work through their emotions. (y/n) agreed quickly, after hearing many testimonials online of increased mindfulness in small toddlers. Harry tried more often than not to do what he called "Good Morning Heart" exercises before school, but if he was out (y/n) had no problem doing it alone. Today though, the two woke up slightly later than usual and had to split up their duties.
"Okay, good. Keep your eyes closed for now, my bugs. I want you to think about one thing you hope to achieve today. Talk to a new kid maybe, or participate in class. Anything, and take another deep breath as you think of it."
"Dada, done now," Mazzy said, smiling wide at her father. Obviously having meditated her whole life (although they didn't consider it meditation, more so family time) she was used to these exercises and her father leading the group. She didn't know exactly why they did it, but being able to frame your day as positive before it even starts did boost her already positive demeanor.
"Good job baby, so proud of you. Why don't you go run down to see your mama? Not on the stairs though."
"I take her, dada!" Mick excitedly said, unknowingly to others, his positive goal for the day was protecting his 'baby' sister.
Harry smiled, dimples shinning as he saw the two siblings scurry down the hall. "Finished bug?" He asked as June and he were the only two left in the twins' room.
"Yeah, going to ask mom about everything."
"She's ready, and she's so fucking proud of you."
"Thank you, Dad, for everything. I mean it." June leaned over to give him a hug, making her cheek squish against his shoulder. He moved his head over to give her a kiss over her hair, closing his eyes for a second, basking in the life full of love he manifested.
"You didn't hear it from me, but I have an insider report your mum made chocolate pancakes."
-----------
"Come here for your kisses, don't try to weasel out of it," (y/n) laughed, putting her arm over the center console to pucker her lips. Mick was first, giving his mom a kiss on the cheek, dimples resembling his father's. Mazzy followed with obtaining their daily kiss before daycare, both stumbling their way out of the car to meet a teacher that helped them inside. "God they're so precious, as are you," (y/n) said, as she softly pinches June's cheek.
"Mooom," June dragged, now in the 'always embarrassed by parents' teenager phase. "Could we talk about Yesterday? You know, with whatever Dad said?”
“Yes! Actually, before we start would it be cool if we play hooky?” There wasn’t a ‘cooler’ parent between the two as they usually were very lenient, but this definitely bought (y/n) some cool parent points.
“What?! Are you sure? Is Dad okay with it?”
“Of course, he encouraged it really. Just a girl's day for us, can go shopping and eat lunch? Whad’ya think babe?”
“Freak it.” Or for translation, June’s way of saying fuck it.
—————
“Can you maybe … tell me how it worked for you? How you … decided?” June said nervously, still nervous about the topic.
“Yeah, of course, baby. It’s a much longer story than your fathers, but I’ll try to condense it:
“At your age, it’s such a period of confusion, and a lot of times your family can agitate that. From seventh grade to about my senior year of high school, I had what I now call my ‘identity crisis. Really, it was rooted in sexual confusion and overall expression but at the time, it was the most dramatic thing happening since the death of mom.”
The two were sitting in the car, having stopped by a local cafe for coffee before sitting in the mall parking lot. It was an odd place, but comfortable given the two were together. (y/n) and Harry prided themselves off of being an open family and sharing details of their past, but this wasn’t something June had heard of in such detail yet. Because of this, she was extremely absorbed in what her mother was saying.
“It’s really funny to me now, because that’s how I deal with things, I guess. But at the moment, I was-“ (y/n) turned her head to look out the window of the car, needing a small moment before recalling the most difficult time of her life. “It’s ridiculous because I know I should say losing mom was painful, but this whole sexuality thing tore me apart in a different way. It was silent, and it was internal. There was no one I could tell, not until my junior year.
“Anyway, going back to the plotline, yes. I did have a close friend I liked. She is mainly the reason I began to question, that and being a little too obsessed with Stevie Nicks. Sidebar: that was one thing that your father and I initially bonded on.” (y/n) finally lifted her head to see her daughter who stared at her with much adoration. Although she was a mother, this specific conversation still made her extremely insecure due to years of denial from family. She could only hope to raise her kids in a contrasting environment. “It was really hard, and I did become depressed and, well, suicidal frankly. Coming from a background like mine, there isn’t a ‘good’ view on anyone who is gay and that combined with my father's overall conserved nature, I was terrified. Then there was the back-and-forth: am I gay? Am I straight? Am I faking it? Does it matter? And the answer, to the last one at least, is yes it does fucking matter.”
“It made you that sad? Trying to figure it out? Dad says I’ll always be the same girl, why was it such a big deal for grandpa?”
“It was hard on me that I didn’t have someone noticing this pain I was going through. I, unfortunately, did not have someone to tell me that it was okay, and it was normal. God, I felt like such a deviant,” (y/n) laughed in an attempt at raising the mood. “When I finally got around to telling your grandpa, he said that mom mentioned it to him once, before she passed. He claims that she said I was going to be different, and he would have to understand that. Mothers always know. And he did, at least, he tried. It was hard to go from always saying future husband to future partner but he got the hang of it. You’re never too old to change your views and grandpa is the best example of that. He’s also very proud of his son-in-law for being so open about everything including sexuality, says that makes our relationship stronger and is the biggest reason he permitted your Dad to propose.”
"I don't even know what to say, that's kind of insane mom."
(y/n) laughed. The pain of her past has subsided over the years, and it was relieving to be able to recount it. "So insane. What else can I say about this? Two aunts were really rude about it and dad got so angry. It made me cry seeing him fight for me. After that, things just all worked out. It's still a hard topic, it took me forever to tell your dad. I thought he was going to be grossed out," (y/n) laughed again out of remembrance, cheeks warming from embarrassment.
"Mom! How could he, I'm sure he was the same as when you two met but dad would beat himself if he ever hurt you. And, that's really nice to hear about grandpa." June was amused over the change of topic and touched her mom was letting this information out.
"No, no. He's always been so attentive and needy," (y/n) giggled, June joining. "You should ask him about it, he's such a sap but that story especially gets a few tears out of him."
"Oh, definitely will do."
-------------
After the two had strolled around the mall a bit and found a few new pieces of clothing (what could (y/n) say, she had the tiniest shopping addiction) June opened up the conversation once more.
"So, how long does it take to know know."
"Oh babe, there's no number I can give you that works for everyone. You can't really but a timeline on these things. I will say there are stages, like definitely a questioning period, but you might not spend time experimenting with labels or you will. It's really hard to say. Personally, it was like six-ish years for me?"
They continued to roam the store, June now looking at jeans with embroidered details. "Hm." She looked deep in thought, but not nearly as conflicted as Harry described her to be the night prior. "I'm thinking about it mom, and I might be sure about it."
As (y/n) moved June into her arms into a Styles' classic bear hug, she hummed in joy. "I am so happy to hear that baby. We are so proud of you, and you're still our same baby but you're developing your identity and we're just so proud to be your parents. Please, babe, don't worry about this, we're here always to defend you through anything. Although, half of our friends and family are gay or something too." (y/n) gave her a smirk, both chuckling at the situation. "Now, if we're done here maybe we can stop by your dad's fav strawberry dealer, he sent me a message he was craving some."
June followed her mom out of the store after deciding to buy the jeans, body warming at the thought of having what she considered to be the best parents in the world.
_____________________________________________________
Part two done! kinda obsessed with this storyline now, so let me know what else you want to see from this precious family. ily!
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wizkiddx · 3 years
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a father and daughter
I don't normally hop on the whole dad!tom thing, but this idea kinda popped up and wouldn't leave me alone. Hope everyone is having a lovely festive period and wish you all well in the new year x x x
Summary: Tom really struggles to get into the parenting thing, and finds it tricky balancing work and his relationship with baby daughter
Tom loved being a Dad. It had only been a couple of months, meaning your baby girl was still very much a baby - yet still he had no doubt, this was the best job one could ever ever do. To be honest he was quite regretting agree to the few work commitments he had started to ease back into too. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford to go these months without work, which not many had the luxury of saying - but in this industry work agreements were lined up years before and he was never one to disappoint. 
Of course, as soon as you both had found out you were expecting, he’d withdrawn from the big filming project across the world but that didn’t mean he avoided the odd week of press, or a couple days flying abroad for fittings and meetings. By absolutely no means would you ever class him as a slightly ‘absent’ dad, you completely understood and when he was home did way more than his fair share with Amelie.
But Tom felt guilty and he felt like he was inferior to you in parenting ability. And you knew that was for one reason and one reason only. He did not have boobs. 
You were well aware that as much as you loved Amelie needing you so much and so often - sometimes being the only person able to soother her - was because all she wanted was to drain you of milk. She was clearly going to be a Daddy’s girl, and who could blame her when her Dad was Tom. But for right now, a mere 5 months old - she loved you because she loved your tit. 
The first time you had noticed Tom’s growing frustration was right after his first evening work commitment since her arrivel, he’d been on a UK chat show earlier in the evening and as encouraged by you, had taken the opportunity to have a few drinks after with his brothers and friends. By no means did he return late, barely midnight, but he did return just a little tipsy. You were still up choosing to have a little movie night to yourself, whilst Amelie slept in the Moses basket next to the couch. Just before Tom got back though, she had woken up and for no reason was the smiliest little girl. So when Tom let himself into the front door, he was greeted with the sound of Amelie’s little bubbles of laughter, while you spoke in baby language - pulling ridiculous faces and laughing with her. 
“Someones smiley” Tom laughed as he plopped down on the sofa next to you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and wrapping his arm round your shoulder as he smiled at Amelie. 
“Aren’t you Meelie? How was the show love?” You asked, as you held Amelie in a sitting position on your thighs so she was staring at you both. 
“Hmm it was nice, couldn’t make myself stay for too long though… just missed my girls.” His voice was a little rough, something that happens after talk show and then almost shouting over the obnoxiously loud music in the pub after. Amelie, laughed again at his words, almost taunting her Dad’s attachment to her, making both of you burst out laughing. She already had you both wrapped round her very little finger. 
Shaking your head, you passed her over to Tom muttering needing a wee and made a quick escape. Ever since you had her, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave her unattended - meaning you had almost made your kidneys explode holding in a wee waiting for Tom to get back. Yet as soon as you made it out the door, the bubbling innocent laughter turned into screams - but at that point you’d already made it out the doorframe - marking that as Tom’s issue to handle. Unfortunately the wails continued, very very loud and proud, and when you returned Tom was pacing slowly around the lounge with a grimace on his face as Amelie screamed into his shoulder. 
“I’ll stay up with her if you want.” You offered, knowing Tom without sleep and having to listen to her racket all night would have an impressively worse hangover tomorrow. 
“No I got it, think she needs a change.” Tom countered, even though you were pretty sure she wanted a feed, since it had been a good couple of hours from the last. He noticed your hesitance and shooed you out the room “I got it love, you’ve had her all evening.” 
“You know where I’ll be” You smiled lightly, leaving them downstairs as you got ready for bed.
It was after about 10 minutes of thrashing about guiltily in your otherwise empty bed, you gave in to the still continuous screaming. Amelie clearly was just hungry, even if Tom refused to admit it and bring her to you. So with a deep sigh you gave in, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and trudged downstairs. Tom was still stood up, taking gentle bouncing steps as Amelie apparently tried to deafen him. Once he saw you, with a defeated look, Tom offered her to you. Instantly, as if you just had the ability to turn the crying switch on her off- Amelie stopped crying and blinked away the tears in her eyes, whilst waiting patiently for you to offer her your nipple. While you were busy trying to get her to latch on, you just caught Tom muttering something as he trudged up to bed without so much as a good night. 
Then a couple months later a similar thing occurred. Tom had been away in New York for 5 days, a little press stint that he had under no circumstances been able to get off. At first all had been well but two days since he returned, Tom insisted you finally had an evening out with the girls - to be honest, after spending the best part of a week alone with Meelie you graciously took it. Oh, and also of importance for context, Amelie spoke her first word while he was away… Mama. 
You’d left that morning, your best friend taking you on a spa day before - so by the time Tom called you at 11 in the evening, he’d spent a good portion of the day with Amelie vehemently denying to do anything at all apart from yell- yelling “NO MAMA.” So fair to say he was pissed. You answered the phone with a soft smile, honestly finding spending this much time apart from Amelie really hard and guilt-inducing. 
“Hey Tom everything okay?”
“Um when do you think you’ll be back?” He spoke straight and to the point, clearly not in the mood for small talk. 
“I don’t think too long, is everything alright?” His tone made you so much more concerned,  now worrying that something had happened. 
“No no everything’s fine. Just… just been a long day.”
“Okay well I’ll be back soon I promise. I love you.”
“Yeh yeh um you too” He didn’t mean to be short. Nor to make you worried. He didn’t hate you - far the opposite, he hated how much Amelie loved you. 
If he was being honest, he just felt like a bit of a failure of a father. As a child himself, Tom had always been incredibly close to his mum and thought the typical rule was mummy’s boys and daddy’s girls stood. So why then, did his child appear to absolutely detest him with every look. Especially because, given the nature of his job, once Tom went back to actually shooting films again he’d be around much less - and that the relationship between him and Amelie would at least be geographically strained. Unrequited love is always the worst and ultimately most painful, especially when it involves your own child. 
This underlying and unspoken tension fizzled away for a decent amount of months and Tom went on his first job. At this point you were no longer breastfeeding, but still you knew that purely instinctively if Amelie was ever scared, upset or unhappy she would seek you first. It was bloody obvious to you that she did love Tom, she chuckled away like no tommorrow when he played with her and spun her round the room. And yet, you could still tell Tom wasn’t completely convinced and still seemed , just a bit aware and hesitant. 
In there ever needed to be any proof though, it must’ve been how stroppy Amelie got once Tom left. In short, for you, it was hell. You ended up constantly wearing Tom’s t-shirts, not for you but because the mild but lingering scent of him seemed to soothe Amelie when she was fussing. She would never giggle like she did when her silly Daddy was here to be her personal comedian. She had, however, finally learnt how to say Dada - which now she was shouting impressively at every point apart from when you tried to film it. She was a little devil, its like she knew exactly what to do to make you life as hard as possible - keeping you dealing with an unhappy Tom. You tried to tell him, when you were on FaceTime each evening - but no matter how many times you promised, it seemed that Tom had a hard time believing you. 
He was filming in Germany, which meant it wasn’t actually ‘that’ far from your London home and after two weeks he flew back for a weekend. You were incredibly excited- not just to seeing Tom, which of course you where; but also ,hopefully, for him to feel some sort of assurance in his ability as a parent. He needed to see her, Amelie needed her Daddy and you… you needed a rest. 
That evening, you had had her balanced on your hip as you rushed to make the house look somewhat presentable (because single parenting was not easy) but Amelie had thrown a fit so with a slightly immature passive aggressive comment to your 11 month old daughter you put her on her play mat and carried on. It was a bit of a risk if you were quite honest, she was more than just a crawler - she perfected the art of bum shuffling and was starting to on occasion try to stand up. But you were in the same room so surely little harm could come to her in the ‘over-the-top-ly’ baby proofed living room - Tom’s doing of course. 
So keeping one eye on Amelie and the other on the almost terrifyingly big stack of discarded toys you set about tidying up. It was all going swimmingly until your thoughts about how on earth you were going to hide all the crap were abruptly interrupted with a garbled screech of “DADA!”
You instantly whipped your head round to watch Amelie stumble and basically throw herself the couple of steps to the doorway where Tom stood. You had absolutely no clue how long he’d been standing there but that was all insignificant watching him sweep you little girl into his arms, before she could career to the floor (headfirst of course). His eyes were bugging out of his head, as she giggled and laughed in his strong grasp before astutely throwing her head into the crook of his neck, demanding to be cuddled by him. 
It was almost hilarious, how utterly shocked Tom looked at the real life proof that his baby girl had missed him. Once he met your eyes he used the hand supporting Amelies back to point at her in a questioning manner, making you roll your eyes at just how oblivious and stubborn he is. 
“She’s missed her Dad!” You smiled, as you walked toward him and pecked his lips. “You got this down here if I finally get some peace upstairs?” 
Because yes, you’d missed your husband and wanted to spend all night wrapped in his arms. But really? There was a more important way the evening should pass, finally Tom getting his moment with Amelie. So without so much as even a ‘how was your flight’ you left the two in the living room - you making a beeline to the bath, for just a moment to yourself. 
It was perhaps even a little shocking to yourself that you were so confident you could leave them alone for the evening. Because really, if Amelie started acting up suddenly again, this could be where Tom’s confidence as a dad goes from ‘ropey at best’ to ‘non-existent’. Except you were so certain in the fact that just wouldn’t happen. If she was hungry she’d take the bottle from Tom (which she never did from you without arguement ). 
And so you had possible the most relaxing time in the bath - actually alone for the first time in two weeks. 
It wasn’t until you quietly walked down the stairs two hours later that you got a bit suspicious of the silence downstairs. Cautiously you peered your head round the doorframe and you didn’t even try to stifle the beaming smile spread across your face. Because there was your husband, lying semi-reclined on the arm of the sofa, his arms wrapped protectively round Amelie who looked incredibly content snuggled up to her dad at last. They were both fast asleep and the sight was just so sweet it actually hurt your  heart, meaning only naturally you had sneak a picture of them both. It was infuriating how you knew you had to wake him up - it is a little irresponsible to leave her lying on top of him on the couch and you kinda wanted to cuddle up to Tom this evening too. 
So with a gentle touch rubbing and down his right arm it only took a moment or two till he suddenly blinked his eyes open, eyes looking quickly between your eyes and Amelie - his grasp on her had instinctively tightened a little.
“Hey” You whispered softly, watching him notice how calm Amelie looked on his chest.
“Mhmm hey.” His voice was slightly croaky, probably from the exhaustion of two weeks of hard work. 
“You guys friends then?” You whispered while combing your ginger nails though Amelies little curls at the base of her neck - she was most deifnetly a Holland. 
“She did really miss me?” Tom asked, still half not believing as he shuffled up on the sofa so he was sitting more upright. 
“To the point she had me wrapping the pillows in your unwashed t-shirts.” You giggled as his bottom lip pouted into a visible ‘awh’. 
“Come on lets get you both to bed.” 
Without much complaint, but keeping her in his arms, Tom nodded and followed you up to bed. But that night instead of getting your way and having Tom cuddling you, he pouted until you let him lie Amelie down in the middle of the bed between you two . 
But seeing the way he grinned at her in the dark, almost fighting to stay awake as he looked at her, the prospect seemed a lot more attractive. 
And that was more than fine by you.  
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d0llpie · 3 years
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could we suggest a scenario instead of a # from the prompt list? if we can could you write hcs (or whatever format you prefer haha) of fake dating for sakusa? like maybe you’re going home from college and ur parents are expecting you to bring home a boyfriend.
ofc if this isn’t what you normally do i understand !!
Fake Dating Sakusa
sakusa x reader
a/n: Hii yes this is perfectly fine, thank you for the request love <33 Also i don’t usually incorporate ‘germaphobe’ sakusa into my works, i still make reference to his social anxiety and cleanliness but i keep it low key if that makes sense? Hope you enjoy regardless <3
wc: 2k
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- You were friends with Komori during middle school since he lived near you
- As you grew closer you started attending his volleyball practices and he introduced you to Sakusa
- You were bright and bubbly and spoke to him every game and practice, commending him on his skills. It was rare to get a reply but you still tried nonetheless
- Once Komori had asked you to become the manager, the three of you started hanging out more often, leading to you being one of the few people Sakusa wasn’t uncomfortable around
- Once you entered high school together the boy’s volleyball team was already amazing, Sakusa became the ace while you were focused on your studies and own extra curriculars
- When Sakusa asked you to manage his team he didn’t think you would decline, as petty as it was he started ignoring you
- Komori was annoyed at his behaviour and you just tried to get under his skin to annoy him. Slipping notes into his locker and notebooks, even flinging your mask at him across the classroom but he didn’t blink.
- Your mum asked why she hadn’t seen Kiyoomi around lately and you decided to tell her everything, including how much you missed him.
- She offered to call his mum but you quickly shut her down, instead making Komori talk some sense into him.
- The next day he showed up at your door, with brows furrowed, although you could only see half his face you could tell he had a guilty expression
- “Soo, you come crawling back to me just like always” you sighed dramatically before entering your house, rolling his eyes
- “I’m sorry for expecting so much from you, i know you aren’t interested in volleyball and just support me but i enjoy your support.” you were taken back by his blunt apology and nodded, about to speak when you were interrupted
- “Sakusa! Come in come in, i haven’t seen you in while how is volleyball!” you mum ushered him into the kitchen, starting the kettle to make some tea
- “Hi mrs l/n, it’s been good, we’re improving and nationals is approaching” he removed his mask and sat at the bench, looking over at you expectantly
- You smiled before sitting next him, “Well thats great! I’m sure your mum is proud, i need to catch up with her soon” you watched fondly as they interacted, remembering how your mum seemed to be on his side more when you explained his absence
- “I have to leave soon, i’ll be back in a few hours, Kiyoomi would you like to stay for dinner dear?” he nodded curtly “if that’s okay with you” she smiled before turning to you
- “y/n, about the trip next week, your cousin is bringing her boyfriend so you can bring Sakusa, if you’re free of course” you became embarrassed quickly, understanding that your mum had mistaken Kiyoomi for your boyfriend when you spoke to her
- “mum wait-“ “okay i really need to go now, we can talk about this later, bye guys” she rushed out the door and you sighed, slowly turning to see Sakusa’s unreadable expression
- “Is your mother under the impression that we’re dating...?” you wanted to crawl under the floorboards and melt into the earth “um, i think so? i didn’t tell her that i think she got confused when i explained why you were ignoring me..” he nodded understandingly
- “I am free” you quirked your brow “Omi you don’t have to come i can explain everything to her..”
- “i guess, that’s a bit of a hassle though don’t you think? And besides, your family likes me more than you.” you lightly hit his shoulder before standing up to bring the tea into the lounge room, Sakusa following behind you
- “I guess, but, you’d have to pretend to be my boyfriend in front of everyone and my cousin will ask a lot of question, do you think you’d be okay?” his eyes softened at your concern before he answered
- “I don’t mind, it won’t be difficult, plus we can always just stay in the hotel room and say we’re on a date or something if it gets too much” he shrugged “wow Omi, i didn’t know you could think this much so fast” he glared at you and you laughed
- “Alright then babe, i’ll tell mum when she gets back” you laughed again, focusing on your cup of tea, missing the way the tips of his ears burned red
~
Next week came all too fast, you and Sakusa had managed to slip back into the way your friendship was beforehand, comfortable.
Sakusa was sitting on the edge of your bed, watching you pack up the last of your things into the suitcase. You knew it might be a bit much for him to be in a car with your family for hours so you were going to take his car. It would give you both time to sort out your story and prepare for the week ahead. You hopped into the passenger seat and started playing your playlist.
“Okay so, mum won’t ask many questions, she loves you anyway, however, my cousin will ask about first dates and will want to know e v e r y t h i n g” you turned to face him when his arm reached behind the head of your chair, he looked back to reverse and you stared blankly at his side profile, seeing his arms flex. You cleared your throat and turned back in front of you to continue. “We need a story”, as he pulled out of your street and began driving he spoke “I mean we can tell the truth about how we met, say you confessed after a volleyball match where i won and our first date was a picnic, we’ve been together for a few months and your mum found out recently” you stared at him shocked “i thought i would be having to prepare you but okay” you playfully rolled your eyes and smiled “What about acting like a couple?” “well your mum already assumed and i’m comfortable with you so it’s not like people don’t already think we act like one, anything off limits?” you hummed “jeez what do you have in mind” you teased and he scoffed “I mean the obvious hand holding and hugs will have to probably happen but anything else you do or don’t want?” yes. You shook the thought away “That should be fine, what about you?” “that’s fine, you can take a nap if you’re tired, it’ll be a few hours” you nodded before settling into your seat comfortably, quickly falling asleep.
Sakusa looked over at you and noticed the goosebumps on your skin, he reaching onto the backseat floor and placed a jacket over you the best he could. He glanced to you at the side fairly often, watching you peacefully sleep under his jacket. He smiled to himself while continuing to drive.
You woke up as soon as the car stopped, looking around confused, feeling an unfamiliar weight and material draped over you. You looked down and recognised Sakusas jacket, remembering you fell asleep in the car. You looked over to see Sakusa looking down at you “sleep well?” “mhm” you sat up properly and took a few minutes to adjust to being awake. “Alright well, your family is here, you ready to act babe?” he threw the nickname back at you and your eyes widened before you put on a casual smile, realising you needed to get used to acting like you were in a relationship with your friend.
“Y/n, Sakusa! How was the drive? We’re all gonna put our bags away and get settled in before dinner, make sure you both get ready!” your parents greeted you both “It was nice, we’ll settle in now, thank you” your mother handed Sakusa one of the room keys. You went to grab your bags but Sakusa beat you to it, taking both of your bags and leading you to the room.
When you entered you made a mental note to annoy your mother, there was only one bed. “Kiyoomi i’m sorry, I didn’t know she would book it like this, actually i’m not surprised...” he nodded understandingly, putting both your bags on the bed. “I’ll sleep on the chair or the floor it’ll be fine, c’mon let’s get ready” you wanted to argue against him doing that, but hummed and began to get ready.
Once you finished getting dressed, you left the bathroom and met Sakusa by the door “You look good, ready?” you nodded, smiling brightly at him. He slipped an arm around your waist and you tensed up before relaxing into his hold
Dinner went smoothly for the most part, you let Kiyoomi do most of the talking since he answered all the questions relating to your relationship with ease, even including stories from middle school and weaving them into the lies about your dating life. “So, when did you realise you liked each other?” your cousin eyed you curiously and you looked over to Sakusa. “I’ve always known, she’s always made me feel safe enough to be myself, respecting me while still annoying the crap out of me. I knew on her first day as our manager in middle school, during a break she handed everyone water bottles but she went to my bag to bring me my own water bottle instead” you were staring at him in awe, millions of thoughts running through your mind. Was he serious? He couldn’t be..but wow that was detailed and he seemed, genuine? He looked over to see you staring at him, starstruck expression on your face, similar to when he looks over to you in the stands after landing a spike. Your cousin let out a few ‘awws’ holding her boyfriends hand before turning to you again. “Oh, um, I knew when he came and picked me up at the mall, i had had a horrible day, everything was going wrong and i just wanted to get out of there but i was so stressed and despite the crowded place he still came anyway.” your heart was racing, you were sure you looked completely flustered, fiddling with your hands under the table. Sakusa noticed your nervous state and gripped your hand in his own, squeezing to calm you while keeping his attention on the rest of the table. You smiled, squeezing back softly.
After dinner you flopped onto the bed, exhausted and trying to calm down. You let Kiyoomi shower first, hopping in after him, letting the hot water soak into your muscles and relax you. After you got ready for bed you came out of the bathroom to see Kiyoomi setting blankets on the floor “Just get on the bed Sakusa” you laughed and slid under the covers, lying as far on edge as possible to avoid making him uncomfortable. “I wasn’t lying.” he was lying on his back, staring up at the roof, you turned to face him, your heart rate picking up again. “Me neither...” he turned his head to look at you, moving onto his side, your faces mere inches apart. “I agreed to this because i like you y/n..” you could feel his breath fan across your face and you smiled “I wanted you to come, i like you too” you whispered the last part as you closed the distance between you both, kissing him on the cheek softly. A small blush spread across his cheeks and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest “I’m glad we aren’t faking anymore” you whispered into his chest “i never was, goodnight y/n” you snuggled further into his hold “goodnight omi”
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