#and i told her that a love letter is a bit too serious to give a married woman | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hollowdeath · 7 months

Note

I just wanna start with saying I think you’re an incredible writer. I found your work recently and can’t stop reading. The way you craft y/n and your storyline, ✨ CHEF’S KISS ✨ absolutely MAGNIFICENT. so that’s first lol before anything else.

I did have a request, if it’s up to your liking!!!! I was thinking of:

(After war)

All throughout their years at Hogwarts (as kind of a golden “quartet”) there was always that would they wouldn’t they vibe between Harry and y/n. They cared a little too much about each other, looked a little too long, got a little too cranky and involved when they dated others. They had quite the falling out after Harry and Ginny got more serious and y/n admitted her feelings and Harry said too late. Fast fwd, Harry and Ginny have since broken up and it’s Ron and Hermione’s wedding. Maybe somehow they get stuck together at the venue or cottage that was rented, somehow stuck before the wedding for hours, stuff goes down, whatever you think, feelings, sexy time, Harry shows her what she’s missed and they finally give in. So much angst, and dirtiness, and yeah 🤷🏽‍♀️ that’s all I got 😂

thank you so much for your request! this was so much fun to write! i hope you enjoy <3

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader (18+)

summary: you and harry were each other's childhood crushes, but things never quite worked out between you two. years later ron & hermione devise a plan to get you to make up just before their wedding.

c/w: alcohol, angst, smut!!!! (penetrative sex)

word count: 7.9k

you had been incredibly overjoyed to open the letter left at your door and see it was an invitation to ron and hermione's wedding. the moving portrait of them holding each other and laughing on the front of the invite made you smile, their faces slightly wrinkled from time. it had been nearly 5 years since you'd last seen them. of course you always meant to keep in contact with everyone after leaving, but it didn't quite work out that way. you had spoken to ron a few times here and there and kept in pretty regular contact with hermione over the years, but you knew it was never going to be the same. not just because of time, but hurt feelings as well.

see, it wasn't just you, ron, and hermione back in school. in fact, people mostly only knew of your group because of one person in particular: harry potter.

harry and ron had been sitting in their train car on the way to hogwarts when you and hermione stopped to introduce yourselves. you felt a special connection to harry right away, experiencing butterflies in your stomach for the first time when you shook his hand and told him your name. of course you'd heard of harry potter before, no young witch or wizard at the time hadn't. but you didn't let that cloud your friendship with him, a friendship that continued to grow for years.

you and harry hit it off well. everyone in the friend group got along great, but there was always something different about you and harry. unlike ron and hermione who gradually grew into their romance over the years, you and harry had romantic tension right away. even just that first day on the train, neither of you could stop blushing or stealing sneaky glances at one another the entire ride to hogwarts.

throughout your first and second years, the four of you grew incredibly close as you found yourselves on wild and often dangerous adventures together. by your third year, things became a little more complicated as crushes, dating, and relationships became the topic of interest within the walls of hogwarts. who was dating who, who liked who, or who could put a love spell on who the quickest.

it was no secret that you and harry liked each other. at least to everyone else. you always laughed a bit harder at harry's jokes, harry's eyes always seemed to linger on you a bit longer than normal, and, after a while, you were both clearly envious of any attention given to someone else even in the littlest way.

it all started with a boy from your transfigurations class who set his sights on you towards the end of year three. you weren't interested, of course, your sights had always been set on harry, but that didn't stop the boy from doing everything he could to try and insert himself between you two.

harry caught on right away, and was completely annoyed at the situation. he'd roll his eyes any time the kid was around, made snappy remarks when he tried to speak to him, and often outright ignored him completely. you'd noticed a change in harry's attitude, but didn't have long to process what it meant before he began talking to a girl from his defense against the dark arts class.

harry began bringing her around more and more, which, in turn, made you fume. you'd always assumed you had an unspoken understanding with harry that you both liked each other, but apparently you had been proven wrong. you played off your jealousy well for a while, but it wasn't easy to hide how upsetting the entire ordeal was for you.

this cycle would continue with harry into your fourth year once he started to grow closer to cho chang. as a sort of retaliation, you began dating your first official boyfriend not long after you learned harry was taking cho to the yule ball. harry didn't react well to this at all, nearly turning the kid into a hairless rat before ron could calm him down.

though your friendship with harry would remain civil throughout this time, it was clear you were both only "dating" people as a way to get each other's attention. between the vengeful flings were constant flirtatious moments, playful teasing, and lingering touches that left no mystery to everyone around you.

however, things were different once ginny got involved. at first you assumed it was just another way for harry to make you jealous, a close hit to home that would only last as long as the others did before inevitably fizzling out. however, the longer it went on, the more worried you became. no 'girlfriend' of harry's had lasted more than a few weeks, let alone entire months that went by without any sign of slowing down.

it had gone past the point of being able to bring a guy around to grab harry's attention, in fact he only seemed increasingly unbothered each time. you finally came to ron and hermione nearly in tears as you confessed your feelings towards harry to them, to no surprise on their part, and begged for guidance on how to navigate the situation without disrespecting ron or his sister in the process.

ron sighed, meeting eyes with hermione before leveling with you. "look, [y/n]," he had said. "i love ginny more than anything in the world, and i would never do anything to ruin her happiness. but," he sighed again. "i've known how you felt for a long time now, and i would be an idiot to keep you from being honest with harry."

hermione had given you a hug, holding you tightly as she told you, "you deserve to be happy."

you found yourself having a moment alone with harry later that same week where you could finally get your feelings off your chest. you'd pulled him to the side and nervously attempted to explain yourself to him as he gave you an amused look.

"look, harry, i'm just going to come out with it and tell you something i should've told you a long time ago," you'd said, your voice shaking. you had to look away from his eyes in order to get the words out. "i-i like you, okay? i like you, a lot, and i know you're dating ginny now a-and that's great and all, but…" you'd gotten choked up as a flood of emotions washed over you.

"please, harry, just…please, i can't watch this any more, it's killing me," you spit out, turning away from him and crossing your arms as you bury your face in your shoulder. "i love you." you'd said quietly.

harry no longer looked amused as he crossed his arms as well, his expression tightening. "what exactly do you want me to do, [y/n]?" he'd asked curtly, his voice cold. you looked at him, confused, studying his body language as your eyebrows furrowed together. "i…" you stuttered.

"what, you think now because you're ready for me i should just break up with ginny?" he asked, seeming slightly annoyed. you gave him a look before uncrossing your arms. "no, i don't think that, actually." you told him coldly.

"then what the hell do you want from me, [y/n]? i spent 5 bloody years pining after you while you treated me like a brother. now that i'm finally finding happiness in someone who actually wants me you want to tell me this? well, you're too late," harry ranted at you, his hands frustratedly raised as his expression got angrier.

you were speechless, your mouth slightly hung open at his confession of attraction while he stepped around you. before he could leave, you turned to harry one last time with tears in your eyes. "you blithering idiot, i've liked you since the moment we met that day on the train!" you exclaimed at him, your voice full of pain. harry looked at you, his eyes widening as you came closer to him, your finger digging into his chest.

"it's because of your ignorance that this is happening. all i wanted was to be honest with you." you spat before taking your hand away, the tears falling down your cheeks. "but i hope you're happy, harry, i really do." you told him between gasps before turning and leaving him behind you.

it had been years since that fight, and you hadn't spoken with harry since. while you always tried to remain close with hermione and ron, your last few years at hogwarts were mostly spent alone, much like how they'd been since. you were conflicted, holding that invite in your hands, reading the details over and over again to yourself as you weighed your options. it was undoubted you would see harry again, your first time in person since leaving hogwarts, and you weren't sure if you could handle the confrontation.

but after a few days of thinking, you decided your friendship with ron and hermione had always meant more to you than your silly crush on harry did.

while making your reservation over the phone, the voice on the other line informed you that ron and hermione had specially reserved a cottage for you near the venue the day before the wedding in case you accepted the invite. you were floored at the news, nearly speechless as you thanked the operator for telling you with the call abruptly ending at the promise of a ride service the day of your stay.

and, without fail, there was a car waiting for you outside of your house the evening before the wedding ready to take you to your cottage.

what you hadn't planned on was the overwhelming snowfall that started halfway through your trip and only got worse the closer you got to your destination. by the time you were pulling your luggage out of the trunk, the snow was nearly up to your knees.

despite your worries about the weather, you were thrilled with the beautiful cabin ron and hermione had reserved for you. it had a warm fireplace, a fully stocked fridge, plenty of blankets, and a projector set up to play movies. you were just getting settled in when you heard the distinct sound of a car door outside. you froze, your heart thumping in your chest as you heard muffled voices and footsteps up to the unlocked door.

before you could move, the door opens to reveal a snow covered harry.

you were in shock watching him come through the door without so much as noticing you only a few feet away. it wasn't until he closed the door and took off his beanie that he finally locked eyes with you, jumping at your sudden presence.

"[y/n]?" he exclaimed. "what…what are you doing here?" he asked, his voice full of shock.

you blinked at him, trying to figure out how, of all people, harry potter had to be the one to show up at your door at this moment. "i could ask you the same," you deadpanned.

harry cracks a small smile, shaking off his coat and hanging it up beside the front door. "haven't changed a bit, have you?" he asks with a smirk.

"don't joke with me, potter. what the hell are you doing here? ron and hermione reserved this cabin for me only," you narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms as you took a few steps in his direction.

harry scoffed, shaking the remaining thick snowflakes out of his hair. it was longer than you'd seen him keep it before, and began to curl at the ends around his face. "well, they must've given you the wrong address, then. because this is my cabin." he told you simply.

you scoffed in return. "don't be ridiculous, they had a driver bring me here and everything. if anyone's in the wrong here it's you."

harry paused, turning his head to you slowly. "they got you a driver too?" he asked curiously. you gave him a confused look. "yes?" you said suspiciously.

harry sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor. "damn it," he cursed under his breath. "what?" you demanded to know, taking another step towards him as your eyes continued to study his face.

harry turned to the dining table as well as you, your eyes falling on a welcome basket you hadn't noticed before. as harry walks towards it, you see him grab for an envelope addressed to 'harry & [y/n]' in hermione's familiar script.

harry opens it, sighing as he reads the letter aloud. "dear harry and [y/n], enjoy your snowed-in stay together at the cottage until sunday, the actual date of our reception. can't wait to see you there, love you both, ron and hermione. p.s., don't be too mad at us!"

you're dumbfounded watching harry place the note back into the basket, his head falling forward. after a moment he shrugs, pulling the basket closer to him and opening one of the prepackaged candies.

"you can't be serious. i'm not doing this, i'm not staying with you in this cottage all weekend," you say with disgust as you walk towards a phone table near the couch. harry turns, stuffing his face with the candy and chuckling to himself watching you attempt to dial a number. "good luck getting a cab in this weather," you can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

you turn to the window and your mouth falls open at the sheer amount of snow that's fallen since you've arrived at the cottage. the bottoms of the windows are just barely covered with more piling on top quickly.

you frustratedly groan and slam the phone down, wracking your brain for a new solution to your predicament. you had to find a way out of here, there was no possible way you could handle another moment around harry like this, let alone an entire weekend.

just as you're about to start pacing, harry chimes in again. "look, it won't be so bad, alright?" he tries to console you, unwrapping yet another treat from the basket.

you narrow your eyes at harry again, feeling your blood boil at how much this situation isn't affecting him. granted, you weren't aware seeing him would have this much of an affect on you, but you were still hurt by everything that happened between you in the past. how else were you supposed to feel being confronted with your first love nearly 5 years after having your heart broken by him?

"easy for you to say, i'm sure this is nothing but a laugh for you." you snap at him once more, walking back towards the bedroom door. harry scoffs yet again. "what, you think i find this fun?" he laughs.

you turn to him, studying his expression with him doing the same to you. "you think i asked ron and hermione to put me in the same cabin as my ex-best-friend?" he asks sarcastically.

you wince at the title he's given you, turning your back to him once more as you enter the bedroom not far from him. "don't call me that. and no, i don't think you knew about this. but you were always good at assuming things about me, weren't you?" you asked sarcastically in return, angrily packing your clothes back into your luggage from their place on the bed.

harry takes a step into the room before pausing, his eyes landing on your half-folded clothes being angrily stuffed into the case. he looked up at you, his posture softening as he takes a smaller step towards you. "what are you doing?" he asks quietly.

you roll your eyes at his question. "what's it look like?" you ask him.

harry sighs, putting out a hand to stop you from continuing. "you don't have to leave, alright? if you really don't want me here i'll figure out a way home. i just thought it'd be nice to catch up again, y'know, like old times. i'm sure that's why ron and hermione put us here in the first place." harry reasons with you, your eyes connecting with his. you can smell him he's so close to you, his hand just barely hovering over yours.

your eyes search harry's, your stomach dropping at the familiarity of his gaze on you. you almost feel like a kid again, crushing on your best friend, the most amazing wizard hogwarts had ever seen, the sweetest boy you'd ever met with the prettiest eyes in the world.

you finally blink and look away, putting the clothes you were holding onto the bed again. you knew harry had a point. ron and hermione wouldn't house you together 2 days before the actual wedding just to mess with you. you knew in the past they wanted you to reconcile with harry, even if it was just to keep the peace, but you always refused their offers with tears stinging your eyes. you just weren't ready to open that chapter of your life again; though now, it seemed, you had no other choice.

you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing mind. "you're probably right," you say quietly, harry's arm dropping back to his side.

you turn to look at him again, taking a step back to put some room between you. "im sorry." you say simply. "you don't have to leave if you don't want to. though you should probably call ginny to let her know what's going on."

harry involuntarily laughs, his eyes crinkling as he tries to cover it with a cough. "uh, sorry?" he asked you incredulously. your brows pinch together in confusion. "uh, ginny? i'm sure you're well married by now, yeah? possibly even a kiddo or two?" you try to say lightheartedly, but your voice falters.

harry lets out a hearty chuckle, shaking his head at you as he heads towards the bedroom door. "right, yeah, think i'm good on that front," harry says between laughs, his hand resting on his chest.

you look after him confused, but decide to let it go as you unpack your clothes yet again. just as you're finishing up you hear the stove turn on, making your stomach growl. you didn't realize how hungry you'd gotten, but it was nearing nightfall and you hadn't even had breakfast today.

you walk into the kitchen to the smell of pancakes and the sight of harry cutting up strawberries. he looks over at you with a smile. "want some? i was starved," he offers. you hesitantly accept his offer, taking a seat at the dining table and grabbing the note from ron and hermione to read it over yourself.

harry noticed this and chuckled, plating up the first few pancakes off the frying pan. "pretty clever trick, if you ask me. i think it was all ron's idea."

you scoff at this, rolling your eyes as you study the letter. "oh please, you think ron would go through the trouble of sending us wrong invites just to get us in the same room together? this has hermione written all over it," you explain, setting the envelope back in the basket.

harry chuckles again, setting the plate of pancakes in front of you covered in syrup and strawberry slices. "you're probably right," he says warmly, heading back to the stove.

you have to admit, harry's pancakes were otherworldly. you had to hold yourself back from complimenting him too much as to not give him an ego. however you finished your plate before harry could even sit next to you with his, which made him smirk as he started digging in himself.

just as you finish washing off your plate, harry comes up beside you with his own. "you know, i figured, since there's only one bed, you should maybe have it for the night." he offers, washing his plate clean.

you turn to him, studying his face as he keeps his eyes on his hands. the offer was completely generous, and not something you expected from harry.

"oh, um, thank you, that's really kind of you. i don't mind sleeping on the couch, you know." you counter.

harry nods his head, turning off the sink and smiling over at you. "i know," he said. "neither do i."

you crack a small smile at him, the first one you've given him so far, and look away as you place the dried plate back in the cupboard. harry does the same and closes it for you.

you help harry get settled into the living room, laying out blankets for him on the couch as he fiddles with the projector and gets an old movie started for himself. you're about to say something to him when you turn and watch harry pull his shirt off and throw it in his suitcase. as he's pulling out his pajamas, you quickly divert your eyes before they can wander further down his torso.

you're still blushing by the time harry turns the lights off, smiling at the projected movie on the wall. "this is nice, you're welcome to sit and watch if you'd like." harry offers, turning to you. you shake your head, giving him a tight smile. "i'm just about to head to bed, actually."

harry nods, his smile slightly falling. "that's alright," he says.

you exchange an awkward goodnight with harry before closing your bedroom door, immediately letting your head fall into your hands in frustration. you were completely overwhelmed with everything going on you couldn't even begin to process what was happening. exhausted and confused, you got dressed for bed and settled into the sheets thinking about how close harry was to you after years of thinking you'd never see him again. the thought made your stomach tighten and your heart race.

you didn't leave your room until early the next afternoon, wasting time in the shower as you tried to prolong being away from harry and all the feelings that came with him. eventually you became too hungry and bored to sustain yourself much longer and finally entered the living room.

all of harry's blankets were folded back up and put away, with no sign of him sleeping on the couch left. you noticed him in the kitchen again, the smell of garlic and onions overwhelming your senses the closer you got.

harry noticed you and gave you a warm smile, eagerly grabbing for a bowl. "morning, sleepy head." he teases, offering you a bowl of pasta. "or should i say afternoon?"

you roll your eyes at him, but thank him for the food nonetheless. you take your first bite and can't help but moan at the flavor. harry turns to you with red cheeks.

"did ginny teach you how to cook or something?" you asked him, immediately going back for another bite as you lean against the counter beside him. harry just laughs and shakes his head at you again. "did ron and hermione really not tell you about anything after hogwarts?" he asked with an amused voice.

you give him a look, pausing from the food to answer his question. "well, to be fair, anytime we spoke i asked they not mention you at all…"

harry laughs at this, eating the rest of the pasta right out of the pot. "im flattered," he says sarcastically.

you nudge him with your elbow, holding back a chuckle of your own. "whatever. but tell me, what should i know?"

harry leans back against the counter as well, his eyes falling to the ground. "me and ginny, we broke up not long after the war." he tells you, his voice solemn as crosses his arms.

you set down your bowl, reaching for a napkin to wipe your mouth. "harry, i'm sorry. i had no idea," you apologize, turning to look at him fully. you feel guilty for bringing her up, but truly had no idea they'd ever separated. you assumed this whole time they were living some dream life off together in the countryside while you stayed in your hometown and wished things were different.

harry just shook his head and laughed, his eyes connecting with yours. "don't be. you didn't know. besides, it ended well. a bit awkward at the weasley christmases, but, y'know," he trails off. you giggle, but try to hide it from him. harry just laughs with you, his cheeks red.

"but, um, what about you? if i may ask," harry inquires.

you timidly lean back on the counter next to harry again, crossing your arms like him as well. "well, to be quite honest, i haven't done much since leaving hogwarts. i've got a place of my own if that means anything," you say with a hollow chuckle.

"better than me, i'd say. i'm still at grimmauld." harry reasons with you, returning the same fake laugh.

"oh hardly, at least you've stayed close with ron and hermione. i think this is the most i've spoken to someone outside of my job in years." you tell him, dropping your gaze to your feet at the realization.

harry just hums in response, his gaze on the floor as well.

you sit in a somewhat comfortable silence for a moment before harry starts cleaning up the kitchen around you.

"you know, if you don't mind me saying, i've really missed you over these last few years. i know it's not ideal to meet again this way, but…i'm glad it happened." harry tells you as he puts away the dishes.

you feel your heart flutter at his words, and have to hold back a smile from taking over your face. he looks at you with a shy expression before beginning to wipe down the table.

"well, thank you, harry. i've missed you as well, i suppose." you say with a smirk.

harry just rolls his eyes playfully before returning to the sink to continue doing dishes.

you head to the living room and decide to put on a movie seeing as you're still completely snowed in. you re-light the fireplace as well and close the curtains to settle into the couch for the afternoon.

harry eventually joins you, offering a soft blanket as he takes the other side of the couch. you're not paying much mind to the movie as you mostly think about everything harry's told you far. you're not sure what to think, but knowing ginny is out of the picture now makes you feel all those same feelings from your school days while stealing glances at harry.

after a while harry uses the bathroom, and returns with the bottle of wine from the welcome basket. "might as well, yeah?" he shrugs, offering you the bottle to open. you smile and take it from him, setting the bottle on the table as he grabs a few glasses from the kitchen. you struggle with the cork a bit before harry offers to do it for you, pulling out the cork in one swift motion. you try your best not to notice the prominent veins in his arms but fail to look away before he's pouring your glass for you.

your first glass is finished while silently watching the movie, trying to pay attention to the plot with a racing mind focused on harry only a few feet away from you. as he pours his second glass he fills yours as well, mockingly cheering to you before taking a swig.

"y'know, [y/n], i'm real sorry for the way things ended between us. and i'm not just saying that, i mean, i really am sorry." harry confesses before taking another sip of his wine.

your heart's already racing, finishing your glass just to get the courage to respond to him. "it's okay, harry. really. we were both not very good to each other near the end there." you recall, a blush blooming across your face.

harry smiles, finishing his glass as well and reaching for the bottle. "well, still, i shouldn't have acted that way." he says, taking a swig straight from the bottle before leaning back into the couch.

you smirk and set your glass down as well, reaching for the bottle yourself. harry hands it to you and watches you take a sip before lying back as well.

"i probably should've told you i liked you sooner anyway. don't really know what i was waiting for, i guess," you say before downing another drink. harry shakes his head, motioning for you to hand him the bottle. "probably waiting for me, yeah?" he asks as he grabs the neck of the bottle.

you smile a bit. "maybe," you say softly, leaning against the back of the couch. you feel the effects of the alcohol start to wash over you as your body loosens, the anxiety melting away with every sip.

harry just sighs again before drinking. he wipes his mouth with his hand before fixing his glasses. "well, i should've known. i mean, you weren't actually into that hufflepuff quidditch captain, were you? please tell me that was just a ploy to get my attention?" he asks with a chuckle, handing you the bottle back.

you laugh, taking the wine and drinking more of it. "he was nice," you feigned innocence, feeling the intoxication settle in. harry rolls his eyes and grabs the bottle again. "yeah, right. all he wanted was a shag and you know it." he says, his tone slightly bitter and words beginning to slur.

you smirk at him. "well, at least someone wanted to shag me." you tease harry, reaching for the bottle again before he can even take his turn to drink. harry pulls away and shakes his head, making you scoff. "yeah, okay, [y/n]. whatever you say." he concludes before taking the last sip of the wine.

you whine when he hands you the empty bottle, setting it down on the table in defeat. "what, were you jealous or something?" you asked harry without thinking, feeling your face and chest heating up.

harry takes a moment to respond, clearly at a loss for words. "uh, well, i was just looking out for you, like i always did." he stumbles, leaning into the back of the couch with you.

he doesn't sound convincing, but you just attribute it to the alcohol and move on.

"and what about you? you mean to tell me you actually liked that slytherin chatterbox without a brain to match?" you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. "or was that just for me?" you ask with a laugh.

harry didn't respond, instead only returning his attention to the movie. "that's what i thought," you say triumphantly, turning to watch the movie as well.

after a moment, harry softly says, "everything was for you."

you turn to look at him, but he remains focused on the movie. "what?" you ask curiously.

harry finally turns to look at you. "everything, it was all for you, [y/n]. not just the girls, all of it. when there was nothing left to fight for, there was always you. even when you were gone." harry says in a somber voice, his eyes exploring yours.

you're not sure what to say, mostly because you're lost in the moment as your blushing cheeks only get worse the longer harry watches you.

"it was always you, [y/n]. why do you think ginny and i didn't last? because she knew." harry asks, leaning closer to you.

you back away slightly, your eyes diverting from harry's. "harry, please. this is just the alcohol talking."

harry shakes his head and gently places his hands on your cheeks, turning you to look at him again. "no, [y/n], it's not. can't you see? you were all i wanted. i was stupid, and i lost you forever. i've wanted to tell you this since the moment i saw you yesterday." he confesses, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of your cheekbone down to your jaw.

"so beautiful, just like i remember," harry says softly, leaning into you once more. this time you don't back away, your stomach full of knots at the feeling of being held in harry's hands so tenderly. his face is only inches from yours before asking, "please, can i kiss you?"

maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the crackling fireplace, or maybe it was the lingering feelings of love and adoration from your childhood crush years past, whatever it may be, something pushed you to kiss that boy before he could even realize what was going on.

sloppy, messy, eager making out from both sides as you desperately grab hold of each other for dear life just feels so right. it's not long before harry has you on your back, his body weighing on top of you as the smell of the wine comes off his breath.

"harry," you manage to say between his lingering kisses. "swear this isn't just the wine? if it is, i don't care, i just want you," you try to ask again breathlessly.

harry's hand tangles in your hair, holding your face to his as you let out an involuntary whine. "this is all i've wanted my whole life." he says simply, his lips softly finding yours once more to leave a passionate, loving kiss. when he pulls away, he looks down at you with lustful eyes. "is this what you want?" he asks.

you shake your head eagerly. "all i've wanted." you repeat after him. harry smiles before connecting his lips with yours once more.

after making out for a while longer with harry on top of you, he eventually lifts you up to carry you to the bedroom. you laugh and try to squirm out of his arms. "i can walk myself, y'know. i'm not that tipsy," you tell him.

harry just hums at you and throws you onto the messy sheets, quickly removing his shirt before returning on top of you. biting your lip, you reach for harry's shoulders and feel his skin raise with goosebumps immediately.

"you're so pretty," harry mumbles to himself before kissing you again. his tongue slips between your lips and you gasp at the sensation. he takes advantage and leans further into the kiss, his hand finding your hair once more to keep you in place.

you whine against his lips at the pain, but don't want him to be any gentler. all you've wanted for so long was to feel like harry wanted you, needed you, and you weren't about to have him hold back from showing you exactly what you've been wanting.

"so, so, so pretty," harry says between kisses along your jaw and neck down to your chest. you go to pull off your shirt as well, but harry stops you by holding your hands down. "and so eager, too," he teases you with a smirk.

your face goes red, squirming under his gaze. you try to wriggle from his grasp but it only tightens. "patience, pretty girl," he tells you.

after nodding in agreement, harry lets go of your hands and slowly raises your shirt until it's just below your chest. he leaves kisses along your stomach, causing your body to shudder in anticipation.

harry lifts your shirt over your boobs and admires you for just a moment before removing your shirt completely. his lips meet yours again with hunger, his hands gently massaging the soft skin of your tits.

you moan into the kiss, arching your back further into harry for more. he smirks at your eagerness again, but continues to kiss you messily.

once he starts pulling and tugging at your nipples, you become a mess in his hands. "harry," you moan between his lips. "please," you say desperately.

"please what, darling? y'know i've waited so long to have you beg for me, i'd like to hear the words come from your mouth." harry tells you, his voice dark.

"please, harry, please touch me," you whine, grinding your hips against his above you. harry groans and pushes your hips back down with his own. "fuck me," harry curses under his breath.

after a bit of a struggle, harry manages to get both his and your pants to the floor. his hands delicately trace the outline of your panties along your hips and thighs. you can feel your stomach erupt in butterflies watching harry admire your body.

"you don't know how much i've thought about you [y/n], i could hardly contain myself last night knowing you were in the next room over," harry explains and hooks his fingers under the material of your panties. you're breathing heavily, red in the face as harry continues.

"if you could see the thoughts i was having you'd think i'm still some horny teenager with a crush," he says with a chuckle.

you cover your face in embarrassment and giggle knowing you felt the same way the night before only a few feet away.

"i mean, can you blame me?" harry asks, slowly pulling down your panties to your knees. "such a pretty girl," he continues, taking the fabric off of your legs. "my pretty girl," he states, twirling your panties around his fingers for a moment before tossing them to the floor as well.

"i-i've thought about you, too," you stutter. harry smiles as he slowly spreads your legs apart, admiring you from his spot between them. "yeah?" he asks, running his fingers along the soft skin of your inner thighs. "why don't you tell me about it, love," harry offers as his fingers slowly get achingly closer to your dripping pussy.

your eyes dart back and forth from his lustful gaze to his veiny hands between your legs. the knots in your stomach only tighten as you become more desperate for his touch.

"i-i…i never stopped thinking about you," you gasp as his fingertips run along your wetness carefully. "well? go on, pretty girl," harry encourages you.

your breath gets caught in your throat for a moment before you can respond. "i…" you're interrupted by a soft moan as harry applies soft pressure to your clit. "i, um, always have dreams about you…being with you…" you manage to get out before another moan slips through your lips.

"last night, a-all i wanted was you next to me," you admit shyly, grinding your hips further into harry's touch. "you were so close, i never thought…" you trail off as harry slowly inserts his fingers inside of you, only barely pushing into you before removing them. you gasp, shuddering at the sensation, hands gripping at the sheets beneath you.

"thought what, hm?" harry asks you with an innocent expression. you narrow your eyes at him but his fingers curl inside you again, a bit further this time, causing your head and eyes to roll back as you adjust to the feeling. "fuck," you curse under your breath.

harry just hums at your response, admiring your body beneath him as you try to catch your breath again. he slowly begins thrusting his fingers in and out of your tight pussy, getting deeper each time, groaning at the feeling of you throbbing around him.

"go ahead, love, finish your thought." he reminds you, his other hand pushing down on your hip to hold you in place as he continues working his fingers deeper into you.

you're a whining mess in his hands, practically melting into the bed as your composure falls apart. the sight of harry's arms working to pleasure you with his eyes focused on your shaking body only pushed you further into your trance.

"mm, fuck, i…i n-never thought, i'd…" you gasp as harry's fingers reach a sensitive spot, making your face twist in pleasure. "i'd get the chance to, mm," you try to continue but your voice gets caught again as harry takes advantage of your sensitivity.

"hm?" he asks simply, picking up the pace of his thrusting fingers.

you whine again, your hand shooting to your mouth to keep the sounds in. harry removes your hand before placing his on your stomach, pushing you further into the mattress.

"tell me," harry demands.

you can feel your orgasm approaching, your legs going numb as harry continues to quicken his pace. "i-i never thought i'd get the chance to be with you," you finally get out, your back arching off the bed.

all at once, harry's fingers pull out of you as he rips his boxers off quickly. you whine as your orgasm fades away, your hips bucking up in search of relief.

harry smirks at your reaction, aligning himself with you between your legs. "it's so cute how desperate you are," he tells you, making you hide your face once more.

he uncovers your face and gives you a soft kiss. "but it's nothing compared to how badly i've wanted you," harry says, pushing the tip of his erection against your aching pussy.

he sits up and guides his cock inside of you slowly, letting you adjust around him gradually. you gasp at the feeling, your head falling back into the bed.

"i've spent years thinking about you, [y/n], dreaming about you, fantasizing about you," harry says between deep moans the further he pushes himself into you. "i never stopped," he admits, leaning down to kiss you once more.

you're breathing heavily and letting your body relax as harry's entire length fills you up. he continues to slowly thrust in and out of you, carefully watching your expression to be sure you weren't in any pain.

"so beautiful," harry tells you between heavy breaths, his hand softly cupping your cheek. you look into his eyes, your face still twisted in pleasure. "so perfect," he sighs before leaning in to kiss you again.

your body relaxes more once harry kisses you, pulling him closer to you. "harry," you brokenly moan into the kiss, making him practically growl in response.

"there you go, love," harry encourages you, picking up his speed as his hips knock into yours. "so good for me," he says as he leans his forehead against yours.

your moans become more and more desperate the rougher harry becomes with you, his hands grabbing for your tits and groping them roughly. your eyes struggle to stay open watching harry, sweaty, groaning, his eyes dark with hunger as he desperately chases his high with you.

you reach for his chest, your hand resting against his rapid heartbeat. "feels so good harry," you whimper, bending your knees further into your torso to give him more access to your aching pussy.

harry's thumb finds your clit and begins circling it slowly, causing your legs to start shaking involuntarily. you can't help but let out a string of breathless fuck, fuck, fucks, feeling your orgasm returning.

"you're, harry, mmf," you try to tell him, but harry just smirks and kisses you to shut you up. "cum for me [y/n]," he says against your lips, thrusting harder into you.

your mind goes blank as you feel your body ride the waves of your high, letting sinful sounds fall from your lips as harry's head falls into your chest, his face dripping with sweat. harry's name becomes part of your moans, only encouraging him more as his thrusts don't slow.

"fuck, [y/n]," harry's voice falls apart, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. you're still shaking, your body unable to recover as harry chases his high. "you're gonna make me cum," he gasps.

you reach for harry's face and pull him in for another kiss, slipping your tongue between his lips. he immediately melts into you, pulling his cock out and letting his cum fall onto the soft skin of your stomach. you moan with him as he comes down, his body collapsing to your side with his head in your neck.

a few moments of silence pass as you both catch your breath, your hand comfortingly rubbing harry's shoulder as he hums against your ear. you eventually giggle, causing harry to laugh as well. another moment later, he attempts to stand from the bed, your arms still lingering around him. "i'll be right back, love," he promises you.

he heads for the bathroom and returns with a washcloth, cleaning off your stomach softly with a slightly embarrassed expression. "sorry," he said shyly.

you chuckle at the difference in harry's attitude now. "don't be," you tell him.

you eventually stand as well, your balance a bit off as you adjust to the feeling. harry helps you to the bathroom, his arm wrapped around your shoulders supportively.

"here," harry hands you a towel as you turn on the shower. "i'll grab your pajamas as well, yeah?" he says before leaving the room. you smile after him, your heart racing at the gesture. just as you step into the water you see harry leave your pajama set on the bathroom counter, offering you a shy smile as he leaves once again.

after you're dressed, you head back to bed to see harry curled up in the sheets with a book in hand. you can't help but feel giddy at the sight of him, shirtless, the sunset shining through the windows on his skin as his eyes focus on the text.

you crawl into bed beside him, and he sets the book down to reach for you. "hey you," he says with a smile. you giggle and cuddle into his side, wrapping yourself around him. "hi," you say shyly.

harry chuckles, covering you with the comforter and pulling you close to him. "don't mind me sleeping here for the night, do you? the couch isn't nearly as comfortable," he teases. you laugh, setting your hand on harry's heartbeat again. "of course not," you tell him.

you and harry spend the evening talking, reminiscing, laughing, and kissing until you eventually fall asleep on his chest. harry just kissed your head and held you close as he fell asleep as well.

the next morning as you're getting ready for the wedding, harry finished packing up the cabin and came up behind you to hug you in the bathroom mirror. "you look stunning, darling," he told you, his eyes wandering in the mirror down your body adorned in a beautiful dress. you just smirk and lean into him, your heart still racing at his romantic gestures. you're not sure if you could ever get used to them now.

on the way to the wedding, harry's hand casually rests on your knee in the back of the cab. you can't help but admire harry in his suit, telling him he looks handsome as you pull up to the venue ready to watch ron and hermione get married.

at the reception, hermione runs up to you, tears in both of your eyes as you pull each other in for a hug. ron and harry also hug, giving each other a specific handshake as harry congratulates his best friend.

"congratulations, you guys. you look perfect, hermione," you say once she pulls away, taking a tissue to her eyes. you lean in to give ron a hug as well, and hermione gives harry a big hug beside you.

"well, i see you aren't too mad about our little plan," ron says to you, his arm wrapping around hermione comfortingly. you and harry look at each other and laugh knowingly. you shake your head at ron. "no, i guess we aren't."

hermione's smile only gets wider as she sees harry's hand link with yours discreetly. "i'm just so happy we can be together today," she says tearfully.

you pull her in for another hug, with ron and harry joining not long after, making you all giggle at the heartwarming moment.

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 7 months

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Eri Reader x Straw Hats Part 21.5

-During the journey to Dressrosa, a package was delivered and Luffy grinned brightly, “Y/N it’s for you!” you looked up, a bit confused as you were with Franky, who was teaching you some science alongside Momo.

-You came over and Luffy wrapped an arm around your waist, “It’s from Shanks!” you paused for a moment, trying to remember the face as you smiled brightly, “Shanks is who gave you his hat, right big brother?” he nodded, grinning brightly as you opened the box.

-Inside was a jumbled mess of clothes for little girls, brightly colored, frills, bows, and glitter- it was like Shanks just got a bunch of stuff and threw it in a box for you.

-Zoro couldn’t help but grin, as he had met Shanks a few times when he was with Mihawk, reading the letter that he had sent, “Seems like Shanks was a bit jealous of Mihawk for giving you the baby sword, and he wanted to give you a gift too.”

-Your eyes were huge and sparkly, a bright smile on your face as you loved the bright colors of the clothes, “Can I send him a letter? And can we take a picture like what I did with grandpa? I want to make him happy!"

-Many miles away, Shanks felt a sudden dread come over him, as if death was fast approaching.

-It was only two days later when Lucky ran for Benn, “The captain’s dying!!” Benn ran, hearing the call before he face palmed, groaning as Shanks was crying loudly, on his knees, clutching the crayon letter to his chest as well as a photo.

(Photo belongs to the artist who drew it!)

-Benn seemed to be the only one to understand the captain through his tears as he held up the photo and he chuckled softly, “You know- you probably should have told her she doesn’t have to wear everything all at once.” You looked so happy in your new outfit in the picture, making a heart with your hands, something Usopp told you to do, and the crayon drawing had you in your new colorful outfit, holding hands with Shanks, thanking him.

-Shanks quickly shot up, looking serious, “Make way to Mihawk’s- I gotta show him this!!”

-The crew collectively facepalmed at their captain, but they couldn’t help but agree- you were so cute!!

#eri reader #one piece #luffy #shanks #zoro #sanji #nami #robin #chopper #franky #brook #portgas d ace #usopp

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quillfulwhimsyverse · 7 months

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The Act of Faking

Word count: 7,2k

Summary: George is not talking to Fred, and the only way Fred thinks this can be salvageable, is by faking a relationship with you. Or when you hear his request - faking him having feelings for you.

Warnings: Angst towards the end.

A/N: I am literally going to kill myself. I had a plan for this to be the perfect slowed paced slow burn, were relationship builds slowly and beautifully but then I just ran out of ideas and this is what happened. And to remind you - English is not my first language so most of the times I just stared at the page trying to come up with different descriptions rather than using the ones everybody knows by heart. So I am sorry. Please enjoy.

P.S I am very sad that I found out about the "5 Acts of Play " stature at the end of writing this one-shot. I could've used it to make the story more interesting. But oh fucking well… _______________________________

One thing that everybody in Hogwarts knew, - the Weasley twins were always together. One never went anywhere without another. They also never had any serious arguments, only slight disagreements that seemed to be forgotten pretty soon after.

That was why you currently frowned looking at the door. Fred came into the Great Hall looking tired, confused and disappointed to say the least. You closed your book, your interest peaking. He only looked like that when he'd gotten himself into detention that overlaps with Quidditch practice.

‘So what happened to you?’ you asked as Fred moved to sit in front of you at the Gryffindor table. He looked really upset. ‘Prank gone wrong?’

‘No, I wish tho.’ He sighed. ‘It’s George. I haven’t had a single conversation with him for what seems like days.’

‘You never fight.’ you mentioned, as Fred was taking a gulp of juice from your glass.

"We haven’t gotten into a fight, Y/N, he just dumbly avoids me. When I try to talk to him, he mumbles something about guilt trips and at the next moment he’s gone.’ He started fidgeting with his wand.

‘How come? Why would he “guilt trip”?’

“Well our dear best friend, Geroge,” Fred mumbled irritably, for a moment you thought he might snap, “had gotten himself a girlfriend, bet you didn’t know that, right?” you only nodded. “Well apparently nobody knew, including me.”

“Yeah…” you bit your lip. “I still don’t see what the problem is.”

“I will tell you what the problem is… The problem is that I accidentally caught him snogging Angelina off in the Quidditch pitch.” You looked at him trying not to show too much emotion. “That wanker wanted to keep it a secret, because he thought I might get hurt.”

“Well, I kinda understand why he kept it a secret.” You waited for his reaction, but he only looked at you blankly, waiting for you to continue. “Weren’t you, like, in love with her a couple of years ago?”

“Yeah, so?” he shook his head. “ I was, that’s the point, Y/N. Was. I am not. Not anymore. I wouldn’t care if they got married tomorrow.” He rested his head in his hands, slowly massaging his forehead.

“Have you told him this?”

“Yeah… Like a dozen bloody times. He doesn’t believe me, though. Says “I am only saying this to make him feel better.” How many times, do ya reckon, I would have to repeat this to make him believe it?”

“Hmmm..” you thought for a second. “Just give him a bit of time, maybe that will solve something?” you suggested.

“Just give him time…” he repeated your words to you. “How do you assume I should do that? With the Christmas holiday upcoming? Although, I think he would rather spend the whole time with the gnomes instead of me in the same room.”

You stayed silent for a moment. Now that you have thought about it, you haven’t seen George for a couple of days too.

“But.” Fred lifted his eyebrows and took a deep breath.” I have a little plan.” He quickly reached for his bag and pulled a letter out of it. “ This morning I got a letter from my mother, about my bad behavior in class and yada yada yada, but she did mention inviting you to stay over during holidays. And this, dear Y/N, sparked a thought in me.”

You shifted uncomfortably on the bench.

“You and I,” he pointed towards you and then towards himself. “We are going to fake being in a relationship. Over your stay at The Burrow.”

“Fred.” you snapped quickly. “You’re crazy.”

“Why? I mean, it’s a good plan. Angelina will be going home during holidays, and George will be forced to be with his family instead, and we’re going to pull a little show for him, just enough, so he would drop this stupid avoidance game he is playing.”

You frowned at your best friend.

“You have a perfect opportunity to talk to him during the holidays and you want to spend it playing a pretend game?” you ask him as he nods. “Yeah, well there is a slight problem in your plan. We have never ever acted romantically towards each other, and George isn’t so stupid, he won’t believe it. He spent so much time with both of us together, so he will notice that there’s just no spark, or whatever.”

“That is exactly where you are going to help me,” he stated. “Your mother is muggle, right? You mentioned once that she is really into those romantic books muggle people read? What do you call them? Noveelies?”

“Novels, Fred.”

“Yeah, whatever, not the point. You said you were into them when you were younger. So what I’m trying to say is that you will help me put this act together, so it looks convincing.”

You look agape at him.

“You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?”

“I had too much time on my hands with my brother successfully avoiding me, I’ve even opened the Transfiguration book a couple of times out of boredom. Closed it pretty soon after, it was even more boring than doing absolutely nothing.”

“Still, Fred, no. It’s your whole family that will notice this as well and I don’t want to lie to Molly. And anyways, how would explain the sudden break up after the Holidays. And… Oh my god… Ron and Ginny will literally tease me to death. This is a really stupid plan, Fred, no one is going to believe it anyway. Just think of something else, I dunno, talk to Angie and make her help you out or something.”

“How am I supposed to talk to Angelina when she is almost always with George nowadays? I knew you would think the plan is stupid, but look - you are my best friend, right? I know you inside out, it would be much easier to pretend we’re in love.”

You look skeptically at him. You wanted to help him, you really did, but this plan was bound to fail one way or another. You very well knew how he flirts and acts with other girls, the last thing you wanted - to accidentally fall for him for his stupid act.

“No.” You started packing your book into your bag, not looking at him.

“Then at least let me act as if I had fallen for you, you won’t have to do anything, just help me out to put the act together, so it looks convincing enough for George, c’mon, Y/N, you know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.” You let your eyelids fall a little more over your eyes while he speaks. “It’s either this or I am going to do something even more stupid.”

You let your head lull back.

“Alright.” you sight. “But.” You quickly state. “Embarrass me, Weasley, and you will have two people not talking to you.” He rolls his eyes and then determinedly looks at you.

“Okay, so how am I supposed to pull this off?” You look at him in frustration. “What? I need step by step guidance.”

“I am gonna tell you this once. You miss it, I won’t repeat it. It is extremely stupid and why do I even… Aren’t you like a huge flirt and tease? Why would I need to teach you how…” He gave you a warning look and you shut yourself up real quick. “Oh, for Merlin's sake, okay.”

He nodded. You gave yourself a moment to think it through, and he let you, keeping everything he wanted to say to himself.

“Because this will be coming from literally nowhere, you must be really subtle at first.” He opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted him. “ I know, you don’t know how to be subtle, so just gaze at me from time to time during the dinner or whenever you’ll be sure George notices.”

“So all I have to do is just look at you from time to time?”

“No, you muppet. I called it a gaze for a reason. You know? Staring at someone you find admiring?” He slightly shook his head, his ginger hair falling over his brown eyes. “Or just someone you find unbelievably pretty?” He still looked at you a bit dumbfounded. “Fred, you do it when you think about Quidditch and pranks.” He smirked, red tinting his cheeks.

“Okay, loverrr…” you deliberately said the last word as slowly as possible, teasing him intentionally, hoping he might have a change of heart and call this plan off. “We will call this “Act Number One.” In case you fail convincing George with this one, we will move on to the “Act Number Two.” Where you will seek close proximity.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Step over the line with this one, Fred, and I will hex you.”

He raises his hand into the air. “Whatever you’ll say, Ma’am.”

“You will have to be subtle with this too. Otherwise it will just be whatever you do here, in Hogwarts on a daily basis. Try to sit next to me when the dinner is ready, try and fix my hair slightly or something, you will figure it out as you go.Then there is gonna be “Act Number Three”, I believe, you will need no assistance on this one - teasing. No comment on this one. I think this should do the job.” You look at him blankly, something about this makes you irritated and anxious.

“And what if after all of this, he still won’t be on no speaking terms with me?”

“Then an actor's career won't be suitable for you.”

Act Nr. 1

Your stay at The Burrow began shortly after the plan was devised. You had urged Fred to attempt a conversation with George before enacting the plan, and in the presence of Molly and Arthur, all appeared well between the brothers, they even shared a joke about Ron’s owl Gigwidgeon. However, once left alone, their relationship reverted to its former state. And you knew that it was a matter of hours before Freds attempt at Act One.

And indeed, your prediction proved accurate. The scene unfolded during dinner, just as you had anticipated. While engaged in conversation with Ginny, who sat to your right, Arthur kindly addressed you, prompting you to look left, up at him.

“Y/N, Fred shared the fact that your mother is a muggle,” you nodded looking at him. “How fascinating.” Arthur remarked, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. “I recently got a hold on this little thing..” he reached for his jacket pocket and pulled out a cigarette. “What exactly is this?” He held it with the tips of his thumb and forefinger as if it was a little wand. “I’ve seen it ignite flames. Is it some sort of muggle magic wand, huh?”

You couldn't help but giggle at Arthur's question, but your attention soon shifted to Molly, who cast her husband a warning glance. Unbeknownst to you, Fred's focus shifted to you, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he observed the interaction.

“Not quite, Mr. Weasley,” you replied with a smile. “It's called a cigarette. It contains an addictive substance called nicotine, which people often smoke to alleviate stress or tension.”

“Really, Dad,” Bill interjected with a laugh, “Mum will be reaching for one of those every time you mention something from the Muggle world at the dinner table.”

Suddenly, Fred erupted into laughter, his eyes dancing with amusement as he directed his gaze towards you. “Well, would you look at that,” he exclaimed, drawing the attention of everyone at the table, yet his eyes were locked on you. “Our dear Y/N, the epitome of innocence, enlightening our dear old Dad about the vices of the Muggle realm.”

You shook slightly, your eyes widening a bit. What was he doing? But he only laughed at your widened eyes, the mischievous glint in his eyes indicating that he was teasing you, trying to uplift the mood at the table.

As the Weasleys' laughter filled the room, you felt a warmth spread through you, despite the slight embarrassment of being the center of attention.

Ginny shot Fred a knowing look, her lips curling into a smirk. "Looks like someone's enjoying themselves a bit too much," she teased, earning another round of laughter from the group.

Fred caught your confused look as you were about to mouth him to watch what he’s doing, but he only winked at you.

After the dinner you jumped quickly on your legs to help Molly. When you went to roll up your sleeves to wash the dishes, Molly quickly stopped you with a light touch and smiled kindly. “Honey, the magic will take care of that, go ahead and rest on the couch with everybody.” She rushed you to the living room.

You turned back to look at the rest of the family: Arthur was explaining to Bill about some corruption that involved the Ministry of Magic and Gringotts Wizarding Bank; Ron and George were playing the wizards chess on the floor and by the look on George's face - Ron was winning. Ginny picked up a plate of cookies, murmuring that these were Percy’s favorite, so she had to offer some of him, so he wouldn’t starve himself to death with whatever he was doing as an exemplary Head Boy; and Fred seemed nowhere to be found.

You turned back to Molly. “My mother always said that magic was too precious to use it on simple daily tasks, that could simply be managed by humans.” She smiled gently at you and her eyes lifted a bit from your eyes.

At that exact moment you felt a heavy chins presence on your right shoulder. You turned your head towards it to see Fred's untidy red hair that was brushing your cheek slightly.

"Fred," you greeted softly, turning your head to meet his gaze.

His brown eyes sparkled with mischief as he grinned down at you.

"Hey there," he whispered, his voice low and intimate despite the bustling room around you.

A sense of ease washed over you in his company, a feeling you'd grown accustomed to over the years of friendship.

"Thought I'd join the party," he quipped, his breath warm against your ear.

“Go rest, you two,” Molly interrupted, “while I go and see where to lay you, Y/N. I hope you sharing a room with Ginny would be alright.”

“It’s perfectly fine. Thank you, Molly.”

Fred feigned a dramatic sigh, before nudging you gently towards the living room.

“You are not following the plan, Fred, you ran over all of the acts in one day.” you scolded him, but he laughed loudly.

“Y/N, darling, when was I ever following the rules?”

Act Nr. 2

For a couple of days, the plan appeared to be on hold. The Weasley children found themselves occupied with various tasks around The Burrow, and you willingly lent a hand wherever needed.

Whether it was assisting Molly with preparing meals in the bustling kitchen, helping Arthur mend a fence in the ramshackle backyard, or joining Ron and Ginny in tending to the garden, you immersed yourself in the daily rhythm of life at The Burrow. Once or twice you caught Fred gazing at you while he took a little break to drink some water or just to catch a breath.

However after the evening to a hold on the house and everybody seemed to be resting, gathered in the cozy living room of The Burrow, Fred subtly initiated Act Nr. 2 of the plan. With George engrossed in a conversation with Ron about Quidditch tactics, Fred seized the opportunity to position himself strategically closer to you on the worn-out couch.

With a casual yet deliberate movement, he shifted slightly, allowing his arm to brush against yours. You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow in silent amusement at his subtle maneuver. His response was a barely perceptible smirk, a silent acknowledgment of his progress in the plan.

Every now and then, he would lean in slightly, as if to share a secret or a whispered joke, his breath tickling your ear. Each time, you couldn't help but smile at his playful antics, a silent agreement between you to maintain the facade of blossoming feelings.

Just then, George's voice cut through the jovial atmosphere, interrupting the conversation about Quidditch tactics. "Oi, Fred," he called out, his tone tinged with a hint of mischief. "You're looking a bit too comfortable there, mate. Planning on falling asleep, are you?"

Fred's smirk widened, as if he had anticipated this exchange beforehand. He shot a playful glance at George, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Can't blame a bloke for seeking a bit of comfort, can you?" he retorted, his tone light-hearted.

George chuckled, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "Well, just don't go drooling on her shoulder, mate," he teased, earning a round of laughter from the others in the room.

You couldn't help but join in the laughter, though you felt a slight flush creeping up your cheeks at the playful banter. Fred's proximity and the teasing exchange sent a pleasant warmth coursing through you, despite the teasing scrutiny of the Weasley twins.

Although, ironically, as the evening wore on, the warmth of the fire and the gentle hum of conversation lulled you into a comfortable state of relaxation. Despite your best efforts to stay alert and engaged in the lively discussion, the cozy ambiance of The Burrow proved too inviting, and you found your eyelids growing heavy.

Unbeknownst to you, Fred noticed the subtle droop of your head as you began to nod off, a small smile playing on his lips at the sight. He leaned closer, discreetly adjusting his position to offer you more support, ensuring you were comfortable.

Meanwhile, George shot Fred a knowing grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he observed your gradual descent into sleep. "Looks like someone's had a long day," he remarked sotto voce, his tone filled with gentle jest.

Fred nodded in agreement, his gaze softening as he watched you drift off into slumber, a sense of warmth and protectiveness washing over him. He couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for you, his best friend, as he silently vowed to ensure you rested undisturbed for the remainder of the evening.

That was how Act Number two acted out.

Act Nr. 3?

You were seated on the kitchen table, a steaming cup of coffee cradled in your hands, lost in thought as you gazed out the window. You sent Molly off from the kitchen.

Outside, Molly stood with her hands on her hips, a hint of exasperation evident in her flushed face. Before her, Ginny, George and Bill exchanged mischievous grins, their laughter ringing out like bells in the crisp winter air.

“Are you two crazy? No scarves, no hats on. You are going to get sick.” She urged her children to get back in and dress properly for the weather.

In a moment of playful rebellion, George scooped up a handful of snow and molded it into a perfectly packed snowball. With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he took aim and let it fly, intending to playfully tease his mother.

But fate had other plans.

In a twist of irony, just as Molly turned to face her son, the snowball found its mark, striking her squarely in the face with an unexpected impact. Time froze for a moment, the air thick with disbelief, before erupting into uproarious laughter, Molly's angry face told them enough and they all turned to get back inside.

“Had a good night's sleep, Y/n?” George's voice rang out as he entered through the door, his laughter trailing behind him like a mischievous echo. He shook his hair, sending a flurry of snow cascading onto the floor, much to Molly's disapproval.

Your cheeks flushed slightly as you slid off from the table, reaching for the teapot and mugs to distract yourself. "Alright," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, though your embarrassment spoke volumes.

"Only alright? I thought Fred tucked you in quite nicely." George's laughter filled the room, rich and hearty, as he winked at you. His playful jab struck a nerve, eliciting a mixture of amusement and discomfort. You turned away, feeling the weight of his teasing words lingering in the air, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within you.

As soon as they all settled down to enjoy a cup of tea, you seized the opportunity to slip away, making a beeline for Fred's whereabouts. But as you ascended up the stairs, he was going down, so you practically ran into each other.

"Oh, good," you exhaled, relief flooding through you at the sight of him. "I was looking for you."

Fred's smirk widened as he halted on the step above you, closing the distance between you almost imperceptibly. "Slept well?" he inquired, his tone laced with amusement.

Your brow furrowed slightly as you struggled to articulate your thoughts, the urgency to convey your concerns before the family downstairs didn’t get any ideas as to why you were standing on the stairs a moment too long. "Yeah, look," you began, your words tumbling out in a rush. "Why won’t you give this plan a little break? You seem to be talking again with George, and with the plan advancing at this pace, soon enough everybody will be asking about the relationship that doesn't exist."

"Darling, breathe," Fred intervened, his hands gently finding purchase on your shoulders as he chuckled. "You only fell asleep on me, so what? You’ve done this a million times in the common room, what’s the difference? But if you want to give it a breather, it’s fine too," he reassured, his expression softening with understanding.

However, instead of finding solace in his words, you recoiled slightly, evading his touch as you took a step back. His hands fell away from your shoulders, hanging awkwardly in the space between you as you sidestepped past him, eager to retreat to the safety of Ginny and your shared bedroom.

Fred's brow furrowed in concern as he watched you retreat, a pang of unease tugging at his heart. He hadn't anticipated that his attempt to reassure you would only seem to exacerbate your anxiety. For a fleeting moment, he considered reaching out to you again, wanting to offer further comfort, but he held back, sensing that you needed space.

Meanwhile, you hurriedly made your way to the bedroom you shared with Ginny, seeking refuge from the whirlwind of emotions that had been stirred up by your encounter with Fred. Once inside the familiar space, you sat on your bed burying your face in your hands, closing your eyes briefly as you attempted to steady your breathing.

You have indeed fallen asleep on each of the twins at least ten twenty times during your years at Hogwarts. And not once has the teasing afterwards bother you, but something about today sent you reeling. You were blushing madly and wished that that would stop. Maybe the whole plan you helped to build, was turning against you, and each, and every time Fred paid attention to you, finally started playing with your head.

You promised yourself to be a little more careful after that.

Act Nr. 4 - the improvised part.

The same night, you were roused from sleep by a gentle hand shaking your shoulder.

“Hey, Y/N, you up?” Fred's voice, soft and filled with excitement, whispered through the darkness as he continued to shake you awake.

You groaned in annoyance, feeling disoriented from being pulled out of sleep. “What is it?” you muttered, your voice tinged with irritation.

“Remember that star we told you about? The one me and George discovered last summer?” Fred's tone was eager, like a child on Christmas morning, and you realized where this was headed.

“Yeah,” you replied, still half-asleep and struggling to grasp why he was waking you up in the middle of the night for a star.

“Well, come on. I found it again,” he urged, his excitement palpable even in the dim light of the room.

You hesitated, feeling reluctant to leave the warmth of your bed for a star. “Why would you wake me up for a star, Fred? It's just a star,” you grumbled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

But Fred was undeterred, his enthusiasm contagious as he handed you a pair of special goggles and gently grasped your wrist, guiding you outside into the chilly night air.

“Put these on and look straight up from where you're standing,” he instructed, his grip firm yet gentle as he positioned you in the right spot.

With a sigh, you relented, slipping the enchanted goggles over your eyes and following Fred's guidance. As you gazed upward, your breath caught in your throat at the sight before you.

The darkness of the night sky was transformed into a mesmerizing display of swirling colors, reminiscent of oil puddles reflecting light from muggle cars. It reminded you of the evening sky as the sun finally starts to set, bringing out the most vivid colors. The bright colors danced and twirled around in the star and all around it, creating an ethereal display that seemed to defy explanation. Shades of deep indigo melted into vibrant hues of sapphire and emerald, while streaks of crimson and gold streaked across the dark sky.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” asked Fred while you watched the view in silence. You took the goggles off and looked up again, seeing only small, little stars shining above you. “Well the other ones do not look that extraordinary, but somehow that one does. And it comes up like three or four times a year. It’s a miracle it came up over your stay here.”

You turned to look at him. “It's really beautiful, Fred. I’m glad you woke me up.”

He gently stroked your arms to make you a little bit warmer as you continued to shake due to the cold of the winter's night.

When Fred retrieved back into his room, he smiled like a dumbass. When you got back inside you asked him if he had named that star and with a gentle smile he asked you to come up with a name for it.

“Where have you been?” Apparently George wasn’t asleep when Fred got back, and curiosity won over George.

“Out.”

“You showed her the star, didn’t you?” George chuckled slightly when his brother removed his clothing and fell backwards into his bed. “I noticed it appeared again yesterday.”

“I might have done that, yes.” Fred admitted with a sheepish grin.

George laughed. “Told her what you named it?”

“No, that would’ve been a bit embarrassing.”

George laughed loudly but then quickly stopped, before waking the whole house up. “You're hopeless, man. But I am happy for you.”

Fred quickly turned his head to look at his brother, even though through the dark he could only make out his silhouette. “So? Are you back on speaking terms with me?”

“Yeah, mate,” George chuckled, “I realized I was being dumb.”

Fred was happy. He genuinely was, but something about coming back to terms with his brother stopped him from feeling completely pleased with the situation.

Act Nr. 5

Act 5 unfolded on a brisk afternoon a couple of days later. The sun was casting long shadows across the snow-dusted grounds of The Burrow. The Weasleys were involved in their own activities. You specifically were interested in another bewitched muggle artifact Arthur promptly told you about, then he went on reading the letter from the Ministry again, completely forgetting about telling you anything afterwards. So you sat at the kitchen table, engrossed in a book. As you finally coughed up to where you left off, Fred entered the room with a lopsided grin.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted, his voice warm and inviting.

You glanced up from your book, offering him a small smile in return. "Hey, Fred. What's up?"

"I was thinking," he began, his tone casual yet tinged with excitement, "why don't we take a walk outside? It's a perfect day for it."

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. "A walk? Now?"

Fred nodded eagerly. "Yeah, come on. It'll be fun. We can explore the woods behind The Burrow. I heard there's a hidden clearing with the most amazing view."

Despite your initial skepticism, you found yourself unable to resist Fred's infectious enthusiasm. With a shrug, you closed your book and rose from the table. "Alright, why not? Lead the way."

As you ventured into the woods together, Fred regaled you with stories and anecdotes, his laughter echoing through the trees. With each step, you felt yourself relaxing in his company.

Eventually, you reached the hidden clearing Fred had mentioned, and you couldn't help but gasp in awe at the breathtaking view before you. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a golden hue over the landscape, while a gentle breeze whispered through the trees.

"It's beautiful," you murmured, your eyes scanning the scenery.

Fred grinned, his gaze fixed on you. "Not as beautiful as you," he replied softly.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat at his words. But before you could respond, George's voice rang out from behind you.

"Hey, lovebirds!" he called, his tone teasing. "What are you two up to?"

Your confusion turned to disappointment as you realized that Fred's affectionate words were likely just another one of his improvised acts. With a forced smile, you turned to face your friend, masking your disappointment behind a facade of nonchalance.

"Just enjoying the view," you replied, your voice lacking its usual warmth.”Care to join?”

As George joined you in the clearing, the moment between you and Fred faded into the background, leaving you grappling with the lingering sting of disappointment and confusion.

As the days passed quickly in The Burrow, the atmosphere seemed to settle into a familiar rhythm, apart from that, the twins seemed to get back into their close relationship, which made you extremely happy.

Once or twice Fred would act out your made up plan and gaze at you during the day at dinner or whenever you were near each other. You, of course, didn’t expect anything more than that, understanding that now the two brothers were back to their old selves and your interactions with Fred were purely out of keeping the act just for George. But that did not change the fact that the shift happened within you. You spend more and more time thinking how everything will play out in the end when you get back to Hogwarts. How you will be sitting there, in the common room, pretending not to notice how Fred flirts with other girls and then returns to you to boast about it. This held a tight grip over your heart, making your chest feel heavy.

There you were, sitting on the couch, watching Ron make the wrong move and lose his bishop in the process, Ginny bobbing her head happily whilst laying on the ground.

“George just now told me that you don’t know how to play chess,” Fred sat down next to you, accidentally knocking several chess figures of the ground.

“OIII!” Ron shouted. “Watch what you’re doing.”

“Sorry, mate.” Fred laughed and dramatically reached for the queen on the ground and put it back on board in the wrong spot. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You turned to him, shifting back from your thoughts to reality.

Fred raised his eyebrow and laughed. “What were you thinking so deeply about? Me?” he teased and you felt his hand reach for your own. As he tried to intervene your fingers together you quickly pulled your arm away from him and stood up. No matter how angry this made you, you tried not to give it away. You felt sickened to your stomach. The action was small. But for some reason it was enough for you. This went too far, the act he was doing and suddenly there was no going back, everything went from too early to too late to stop this stupid lie, and the only thing you dreaded for - happened. It was your own fault, you agreed to this.

“Just remembered, I haven’t reached out for my parents for a while now,” you mumbled and left the room to actually write to your parents and ask if you could get back home from The Burrow earlier than planned.

The Finale

You were folding your clothes and putting them back in your trunk, while Ginny watched you from her bed.

“Did they really ask you to go back home?” She asked once again in disbelief. You nodded. “They always let you stay as long as you want.”

“Yeah, I guess something happened back home.” You lied without looking back up at her.

“Did you tell Fred? That you’re going back home?” She sat up, while you stopped packing and thought for a moment whether you should tell her the truth. “You haven’t,” she said, quite shocked. “Why? The boy’s going to go mad.”

“I really don’t think so,” you mumbled.

“But he will tho,” spoke George standing in between the door, his arms crossed on his chest, he looked disappointed.

You paused, feeling the weight of George's words sinking in. Despite your efforts to convince yourself otherwise, deep down, you knew he was right. Fred would indeed be affected by your departure, you were his best friend, nevertheless.

Ginny shot her twin a sympathetic glance before turning back to you. "He's right, you know. Fred may not show it, but he'll definitely be upset."

You sighed, feeling a pang of guilt gnawing at your conscience. "I know," you admitted reluctantly. "But I need to sort things out back home."

“No, you don’t.” Said George again firmly. He looked quite mad now. “Considering the fact that it was you, who asked your parents to go back home early, not the other way around.”

“Uhmm… How do you?...” You stammered, caught off guard by George's accusation. His words hung in the air, heavy with accusation and disbelief.

Ginny's expression softened, her eyes filled with concern as she glanced between you and George. "George, calm down," she interjected gently, trying to diffuse the tension that crackled in the room.

But George remained undeterred, his gaze fixed firmly on you. "How do I know?" he repeated, his voice low and intense. "Because you accidentally used the quill we use for pranks. It creates two messages as it writes, one to your recipient, second to its owner, and that would be me and Fred, only I got the hold of the message first.”

You hid your face in your hands, embarrassed.

“Then,” George continued, “I assumed Fred had done something stupid once again and pressed him until he told me everything, And when I say everything, I mean it. Merlin's beard, Y/N, I thought Fred was daft, but turns out this friendship with us made you daft too.”

“Ummmm?” Ginny interrupted. “Mind to elaborate a little bit?”

Ginny's interruption brought a momentary pause to the tense atmosphere in the room. George sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he struggled to find the right words.

"Well," he began, glancing at you briefly before continuing, "apparently our dear Y/N here concocted a plan to get Fred and me talking again. She thought we needed a little nudge to mend our relationship, so she came up with this whole scheme of them faking a relationship."

Ginny's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You did what?" she exclaimed, turning to you with a mixture of disbelief and curiosity.

“First of all,” you raised your finger angrily at George, “ it wasn’t my idea, Fred came up with it. Secondly, it wasn’t a fake relationship,” you said angrily, “it was for you to believe he had feelings for me so you would drop your stupid not talking to Fred phase, because you thought he was still in love with your girlfriend. So in the end, who is to blame?” you asked him.

Ginny looked from you to George. She was sitting dumbfounded, and if it wasn’t for the angry looks on your and George's faces, she would’ve started laughing.

“Okay, it was stupid, I agree with you,” George mumbled. “But you're as thick as it gets, Y/N.”

“Why am I the thick one?”

“Because you actually thought Fred would fake having feelings for you,” these words from George stung like a slap in the face, the truth of them hitting you harder than you anticipated. You felt a surge of embarrassment and hurt wash over you, realizing how naively you had fallen for Fred's act. It was a bitter pill to swallow. Even Ginny’s mouth fell open.

“George…” she murmured silently.

“What? Wasn’t he like in love with her for a couple of years?” He said angrily. “And then you,” he pointed towards you, “went on and let him continue this charade and now because you can’t take it anymore, you’re leaving. Of course this is going to upset him.”

You tried to say something, you really tried, but words just did not form inside your head.

Thank the spirits, cause it was Ginny who spoke after. “No, George, wait. I don’t think she knew.”

You met Ginny's eyes, grateful for her unwavering support in this moment of turmoil.

“I… I didn’t know,” you finally managed to utter, your voice barely above a whisper, but each word weighed heavy with sincerity. “I didn’t realize... I thought...” Your voice trailed off, the words catching in your throat as you struggled to articulate the whirlwind of emotions that churned within you. “I genuinely thought that he was doing it for you. I was leaving because I didn’t want to…” the words died out from your mouth and you didn’t finish your sentence.

“I didn’t want to end up hurt afterwards. I assumed he only saw me as his best friend and the act would die out eventually when we got back to Hogwarts.”

The snort from George interrupted the silence that followed after your sentence. “You and Fred must be two of the dumbest people I know. Y/N, he named a star after you, you were more than his best friend for a while now.”

“Oi, mate, not nice to throw me under the bus like that,” Fred quipped, entering the room with a lopsided grin.

You turned to him, quite in shock.

“And I think this is our cue to leave,” said Ginny gently, sending a wink to you and grabbing George by his forearm to lead him out of the room.

“Complete idiots,” George managed to yell whilst leaving.

Fred chuckled, stepping closer to you. "Ignore him, love. He's just jealous because he hasn't named a star after anyone yet."

“I am extremely confused, Fred.”

Fred's grin softened into a gentle smile as he reached out to take your hand in his and intervene your fingers together. He smiled as you let him. "I know, Y/N. It's been a bit of a mess, hasn't it?"

You nodded, still trying to process everything that had unfolded.

"I promise to explain everything properly," Fred reassured you, his eyes earnest and sincere.

Fred took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before he began to explain. "Okay, so... I know this whole situation might seem incredibly confusing, but there are a few things you need to know." He paused, searching your eyes for any sign of understanding before continuing.

"Firstly, yes, I did come up with the plan to pretend to have feelings for you, but it wasn't just to mend things between George and me. It was also because..." He hesitated, his expression turning earnest. "Well, because I actually thought I might kill two birds with one stone.”

Confusion flickered across your face as you processed his words. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Fred took a deep breath, steeling himself before he continued. "I mean, yes, the initial idea was to help George and me patch things up by making him think I had feelings for you. But... it was also a way for me to... explore my own feelings for you."

Your breath caught in your throat as his words sank in. "You mean... you actually do have feelings for me?" you asked, your voice barely audible.

Fred nodded, his gaze unwavering as he met your eyes. "Yeah, I do. I've liked you for a while now, Y/N. I just didn't know how to tell you."

Emotions swirled inside you, a mixture of disbelief, confusion, and a flicker of hope. "But... why didn't you just tell me?" you asked, your voice trembling with emotion.

Fred sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I was scared, Y/N. Before our friendship even began, you seemed to be annoyed everytime I approached you. I am not even going to mention the looks you gave me when I tried to flirt with you. Then I dropped it, I thought you weren’t interested and it proved me right, cause quickly after you joined our trio. (A/N: We can not forget our Lee.)”

“I thought you saw me as one of these girls you always flirt with, I thought you were being a tease for your own entertainment.”

Fred's expression softened as he listened to your words, a tinge of regret coloring his features. "Y/N, I understand why you might have thought that. And I'm sorry if I ever gave you that impression.”

“But why did George think you were still into Angelina?”

“Because before you came into the picture I kinda liked her. And we got along pretty well, I just did not realize at the time she was being extra friendly with me, cause she liked George. Then you came along and my feelings changed. I mentioned them to George once or twice and then dropped it. Didn’t want to annoy him, didn’t want to hear him tease me when you joined our friend group. When he fell for Angelina, he must’ve overthought everything. But he kinda put everything together after I returned to our room after I showed you your star.” He raised his free hand and gently tucked your stray strand of hair over your ear, and then pressed his hand over your cheek, to which you leaned in.

“Pretty soon after you arrived, you fell asleep on me, literally in front of everybody,” you closed your eyes in embarrassment as he spoke, he started softly caressing your cheek, “I thought you finally started to catch on, but you asked me to put the plan on hold, and I genuinely got scared I was pushing you away with the way I acted.”

“I am so sorry for not catching on sooner, for avoiding you…” you tried to explain yourself, but Fred interrupted you.

Fred shook his head, his expression tender. "No apologies necessary, Y/N. You did what I asked you. I hope you will now understand that everything was sincere.”

You closed your eyes again and as lovingly as possible said, “And I hope you will understand that I sincerely fell for you.”

He laughed as he leaned in closer, “I got that while you were having a little chit chat with my brother, otherwise it would’ve been me who stayed over with the gnomes.” He looked deeply into your eyes as if asking if it was alright, you slightly nodded, so he closed that little space that was left between you and kissed you.

#fred weasly x reader #fred weasley x you #fake relationship #slow burn #harry potter #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley one-shot #fred x reader #fred

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guiltyasdave · 10 months

Text

are you ever dreaming of me?

series masterlist • this is part IV

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

a/n: This got very dark very quickly, but it had to be done. It’s basically just one big love letter from me to Dave and his character. I know Dave’s behavior in the last chapter has been a little frustrating but I hope it’ll make more sense now (it’s still frustrating though ngl). I also know this is not as smut-heavy as the other chapters, which might come as a disappointment to some. Stay with me here, more filth is coming soon, I just had to get emotional for a second. <3 (also, please be nice because I lowkey hate this, actually)

word count: ~3.1k

summary: Dave’s side of the story.

warnings: ANGST, bits of fluff if you squint, age-gap, mentions of killing people, mentions of death, mentions of rough sex, power imbalance, able-bodied reader, somewhat unhealthy relationship dynamics, dubios morals (Dave is cheating on his wife… kinda), idiots in love, this whole serious is still very much 18+ only, mdni… did I mention angst? (As always, please tell if if I forgot something!)

dividers by @/saradika <3

find my full masterlist here!

Dave York isn’t a good man.

He isn’t a good man and he hasn’t been in a long time. He probably had been, once, when he first joined the military, when he still thought that he was doing the good thing, the right thing. Before he killed his first man. Now he’s living in shades of gray, where nothing is as simple as right or wrong.

He knows that what he’s doing is not right, but then again, the people that he’s killing aren’t good men either. He’s doing what he’s good at, what he has been trained to do for years. He doesn’t really know what else he’s good at. If there even is anything else.

He makes enough money to provide well for his daughters, the only thing in his life that he really cares about, the two girls that he loves more than anything. He loved their mother too, once, when they were both young. They were high school sweethearts, got married quickly simply because that was the thing that you did, only to realize later that adult life with each other wasn’t what either of them had imagined.

He’s never told Carol what exactly it is that he does, trying to protect her, which then led to her not understanding what was going on when he came home feeling cold and empty, a void inside of him that nothing could fill. They both grew distant from each other, not sharing any real connection anymore, just living aside one another. It works for him; their daughters are still the top priority for both of them, and they’re going to do everything in their power to give them the best possible childhood.

He suspects that Carol is seeing someone else, with the way she’s sometimes working late for no good reason, sliding out of the room to answer her phone at odd hours, the way he occasionally finds a position on their shared credit card bill that he doesn’t have an explanation for.

Dave knows that if he cared, he could easily find out every little detail about it. If he cared, he would probably be angry at how she’s not even making an effort to hide it. But the thing is - he just can’t bring himself to care. Has never done the same thing either, neither out of spite, nor because he had any desire for it.

Until he met her.

Sitting in a hotel bar, two seats over from him, when he’d just gotten a job done and figured that a quick drink might help him fall asleep easier. The whiskey’s burn in his throat didn’t ease the coldness that felt like it had permanently settled into his chest, not that he’d expected it to.

He had just decided to retreat to his room and get out of the city first thing in the morning when she sighed loudly and downed her own drink abruptly. He had noticed her when he walked in, the way he always clocked every person in any room he entered, and every possible exit route. He had absentmindedly noted that she was attractive, then dismissed the thought immediately. Probably here for a date, much younger than him, not paying him any mind. Not a threat, and therefore not important.

Not important at all, until he found himself turning to her and offering to buy her another drink before his mind had even caught up to his actions, learning that she had just been stood up for what would indeed have been a date, noticing the glint of interest in her gaze as she eyed him up and down, feeling a kind of longing that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Getting her to go up to his room with him had been easy. A mutual understanding of wanting each other, the desire to turn a shitty evening into something else, something that he doesn’t think either of them understood at the time.

Kissing her for the first time had been easy, too. Touching her, feeling her hot skin under his fingertips, her entire being so much softer, lighter than he was, felt easy. It felt right, like something that he hadn’t known he was missing right until that moment. He wanted to devour her, make her his, get her as close as he possibly could, before he inevitably had to give up this fleeting moment of something that suspiciously felt like happiness, and happiness never stayed within his reach for too long.

Sinking into her for the first time, hearing her gasp, her breath hot against his neck, felt even better. This was never gonna last, things this good never did. The way she clenched around him when he first slapped her ass and her whimper of “harder, please” turned him feral in a way that he hadn’t known before. How she gave up all control to him so willingly when his entire life had felt out of control for so long - it was addicting. He had known that he would come back for more again and again before he had even spilled himself into her for the first time.

He hadn’t planned for her to stay the night. Hadn’t planned for the way she kissed his lips in the morning, acting a little shy, like she was worried that he might send her away, but so clearly showing him that she wanted more of him, if that was what he wanted. And god damn, did he want to give her more, give her all that he had to offer, if only it wasn’t for the fact that any more of him would be enough to scare her away for good.

So, he didn’t give her more. Made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t looking for an emotional attachment, told her about his marriage, told her that they couldn’t be a thing. She was quick to hide her disappointment, but not quick enough for him not to notice. He half expected her to walk out then, that this wasn’t something she wanted, but instead she scribbled down her phone number, gave him a flirty smile and told him to call her “whenever”.

He knew he was being greedy, that he should have kept it a one time thing that he could keep a fond memory of, but of course he called her. Kept making stops in her town before flying back home, started spending weekends with her, the feeling of being around her too good to let go of.

He knows that it’s not right, that he’s probably taking advantage of her in some way. Of course he sees how badly she wants to please him, how she looks at him like he’s hung the moon for her. She has never denied him anything, no matter what kinds of depraved things he’s wanted to do with her. Hesitated, yes, but she has never said no. Never called red, never asked him to stop. Not when he first told her to call him “sir”, not when he spanked her for the first time, not when he’s edging her until she’s barely coherent, not when his fingers tightened around her throat for the first time. He could leave her a crying, shaking mess on the floor, and by the end of the night she’d still look up at him with those wide eyes and thank him.

It’s addictive and he can’t stop, always comes back for more when it feels like his whole life is spiraling out of his control again, when the darkness around him is threatening to swallow him whole. She’ll let him grab at her with rough hands, mold her body into any shape he wants, let him spit filth at her and let lose until he feels grounded again, until some of the darkness around him has dissipated.

Lately, work has been weighing on him even harder. Maybe he’s just getting older, maybe he has finally reached his limit, he’s not sure. With the whole week off, an incredibly rare occurrence, he knew who he wanted to spend it with. She had seemed stressed lately, like she needed a break too, so it was easy to convince himself that he was doing this for her. That it wasn’t just a selfish plan of his to spend more time with her.

Because somewhere along the way he has come to enjoy the time with her way too much. He enjoys lying in bed together, both of them catching their breaths, laughing about a stupid joke, the little tidbits from her life that she shares with him, the rare occasions when they’re walking around her neighborhood. The way she shyly grabbed his hand the first time, like she was scared that he would pull it away. The smile that she tried to but couldn’t hide when he didn’t.

This isn’t right and it’s not going to last, he’s well aware of that. As clear as he has been about his intentions, he still feels like he’s leading her on sometimes. But it feels too good to stop, to let go of one of the few comforts that he has in life.

The past few days with her have been heaven. He hadn’t anticipated how much he would enjoy spending so much uninterrupted time with her, how good it would feel to be around her the entire day, just watching her be herself and listening to her talking. And he has been talking as well, the feeling of speaking to someone without an ulterior motive, of someone listening to him just because they wanted to, more meaningful to him than he could put into words.

And all throughout, she had so willingly bent to his every wish, put all her trust into him, secure in the knowledge that in the end, he would take care of her.

So, Dave had let his guard down. Relaxed. Then the dream happened.

Last night, he had come home to find the girls slaughtered in their house, their small bodies soaked in blood. It’s a recurring nightmare, a fear that he can never entirely shake off, that haunts his subconscious every couple of weeks. He’s being thorough in his work, never leaving loose ends, keeping his private life concealed from the world that he moves in. The risk that anything could happen to them is as low as he can push it, but it’s not zero. Never zero, and it’s eating at him. Usually, he wakes up alone, gasping for breath, the sheets soaked with sweat. Him and Carol haven’t slept in the same bed for a long time.

Last night, it had been different. It had been different because she had been there beside him, shaking him awake and holding him in her arms until he calmed back down. It had also been different because she had been part of the dream. Just as dead, just as blood-soaked as his daughters.

She had been so sweet when he woke up, and it broke his heart. He wasn’t a good person. He was endangering everyone around him, he was endangering her by not being able to end this thing with her, and yet here she was, oblivious, comforting him.

He had always thought that eventually, he would be the one to break things off. But what if it was her? What if she figured out what a pathetic excuse of a man he was, that he couldn’t give her anything? Not a real relationship, and no future. He couldn’t let her in, couldn’t let her see who he was. What he did, what he was afraid of - and just how realistic those fears were.

He couldn’t even bear to picture the look on her face if he ever told her. The betrayal, the disgust, and eventually the fear. He couldn’t tell her. He wouldn’t. But how could he go on with this, knowing that every minute that he spends with her, he puts her in danger? Someone could find out. Someone could find her.

So does what he does best. Makes a plan. Suppresses his emotions until he’s sure of what to do. How to keep her safe. The logical part of his mind arrives at a solution pretty quickly: She’ll be safest if she stays away from him.

The emotional part of him, the part that he tries to keep shut down, doesn’t approve of this idea.

He has to tell her. Sooner rather than later, while the dream is still fresh in his memory, while he can still see her dead body when he closes his eyes.

Because he obviously knew about the dangers of being with him when he first laid eyes on her. When he kissed her for the first time, texted her for the first time, walked up to her apartment for the first time, when he booked this damn vacation because he’s unable to stay away from her. Unable to think straight when it comes to her. There’s a million reasons why he shouldn’t be with her and yet, he always finds a reason not to quit.

He tells himself that he’ll speak to her as soon as she gets up. Then once he’s done with his phone call. Maybe after they’ve had breakfast. At the end of the day, when they’re back in the room. He never does. He can’t.

The tension has become unbearable at that point. He knows that she’s confused, that she has questions that he doesn’t have answers for. His life feels out of control once again, so he tries gaining it back in the only way that he knows.

He half expected her to refuse him, but she seems just as relieved as he feels when he tells her to get down on her knees. Afterwards, he doesn’t feel better. Possibly hates himself even more.

He can tell that she’s off afterwards, and he’s battling himself to comfort her. This is not what he should be doing. None of this is what he should be doing.

Usually, she tucks herself into the space between his shoulder and his chest before he can even say a word. Not tonight. Tonight, she had her back turned to him before he had even switched off the lights, the “good night” that she normally breathes against his neck nothing more than a murmur from her side of the bed.

He stares at her backside in the darkness of the room, the way she seems to be curling in on herself, and he has no idea what to do. What they just did seemed like what she wanted, she had appeared eager, enthusiastic even, but maybe he read her wrong. Shit, he hadn’t even asked for her color once.

It’s quiet for a long time. He finally feels himself slowly drifting off to sleep, when her hears her sniffle. His eyes fly open again. It’s only minimal movements, but he can see her tremble ever so slightly. Fuck it, he thinks to himself as he reaches out towards her.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

You tense at his words, at the fact that he’s apparently awake. Has probably been the whole time. You try your hardest to make your voice sound normal, even though you know that it’s pointless.

“Nothing.”

It comes out even weaker than you had anticipated. You keep your back to him and feel him shuffling closer, his hand gently pulling at your shoulder to turn you towards him. “Baby. Talk to me.” His voice is soft in your ear and your heart is beating painfully in your chest. Baby. He has never called you Baby before. You feel a fresh wave of tears welling up in your eyes and shake your head but let him turn you around until you’re facing him.

His eyes search your face in the faint moonlight that’s filtering into the room and his hands cup your damp cheeks, his thumbs gently running over the skin under your eyes. The worry that’s so evident in his expression right now makes you want to break down. You’re exhausted, and confused, and you don’t understand the man in front of you and his contradictory behavior at all. So far you’ve been crying silently, but you can feel your bottom lip trembling as you try to suppress the sobs that are threatening to crawl up your throat.

“Did I- shit, was I too rough, did I hurt you? You didn’t say anything, but I never asked- I should’ve checked, I’m sorry, I-“

“You didn’t hurt me,” you whisper, cutting off his frantic rambling. He didn’t, not in the way that he’s referring to, anyway.

“Then what’s wrong?” he pleads, his hands still on your face, “Talk to me.” You inhale deeply. You really don’t want to have this conversation, but maybe it’s best like this. Rip the bandaid off, make it quick.

“Do you want to leave?”

Your voice breaks on the last word. He stares at you for a beat, his eyes wide. “Do I- What?” You shrug, unable to bring yourself to ask a second time. One of his hands slides down to your shoulder, holding you there. He doesn’t speak, his eyes boring into you.

You can’t hold his gaze any longer, your eyes dropping down to his chest instead. “You’ve been… weird. Today. I thought- I don’t fucking know, that I had done something or that you’ve-” a sob breaks free and interrupts you, “that you’ve had enough of me. That you don’t want to go on with… this.” You gesture helplessly between the two of you.

You’re certain that now you’ve said too much, that if he hadn’t had enough before, he definitely has now. You’re supposed to be fun, a distraction, not someone who’s clinging to him, but you’re feeling too exhausted, too raw to keep pretending like this thing between you doesn’t mean something. To you, at least.

“Fuck,” Dave mumbles, and you gaze up to see the anguish in his eyes before his arms envelop you and he presses you against his chest, speaking into your hair. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.”

It’s quiet for a minute as you’re inhaling his scent, trying to calm yourself down, when something occurs to you. “You didn’t say no,” you whisper into his chest, “you said that I didn’t do anything, but… you didn’t say that you don’t want to leave.” Dave freezes for just a second, searching your face, then he sighs heavily. He sounds defeated, you think.

“No, I don’t want to leave.”

taglist/people who have expressed interest in this: @joelscurls @reddedmiller @iamasaddie @guelyury @theywhowriteandknowthings @amanitacowboy @corazondebeskar @vabeachazn @mellymbee @bbyanarchist @untamedheart81 @missladym1981 @no1-nosesitter

let me know if you wanna be added, also no hard feelings if you wanna be removed! 🫶🏻

if you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging <3

series masterlist

#janas fics #the dress series #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x female reader #dave york x f!reader #dave york fanfiction #dave york fic #the equalizer 2 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedrostories

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cranetreegang · 2 years

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An Unexpected Flight - Ominis x FemReader

I loved writing this. But I also love flying around on Highwing. Like I had The Escape and Buckbeak's Flight playing in my head as I wrote this.

I hope y'all enjoy!!!

Summary: Ominis gets an unexpected owl to meet up with the Fifth year. He wonders what's in store for him and her 'surprise'.

Word Count: ~1,600

Read more of my Ominis Fics Here!

#ominis gaunt #ominis x reader #hogwarts legacy #room of requirement #fanfic #fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfic #fluff #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x reader #sebastian sallow #creative writing

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lianaloverr · 2 months

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4 𝙋𝙖𝙜𝙚 𝙇𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧

Sam Goldbach x fem!reader

★

Summary: You've had a crush on Sam for 8 years, after another failed attempt to confess your feelings, you came up with a solution..

Warning: none

Word count: 1.2k

Hiiiiii!!!! It's been so long omgggggg, I hope y'all like this! This story was based of one of my favorite songs!

“”I’m sending him a 4 page letter, and I enclosed it with a kiss.”

“Yo, turn my music up?”

That's what I told my bestfriend Missy. “Alright.” she responded. “Hey, have you talked to Sam?” she added. “No? Why?” I ask kind of worried. All she did was smirk at me, I rolled my eyes. She loved to tease me about my crush. I’ve had a crush on Sam for 8 years, we’ve been friends for 13 years. When we were younger, we were inseparable. I never wanted to accept my feelings for him, but all the times I looked at him with pure love, and the amount of times I would get jealous at him introducing his new girlfriend’s. I just had to admit it eventually. But I never dared uddered a word about it to anyone, only my close friends. But somehow, some people caught on, but Sam was still oblivious.

I was scared honestly. Mama always told me to be careful who I love. And daddy always told me make sure he’s right. I took that to heart. But It felt different with him. Something I never felt before.

“You should text him.” Missy says, snapping me out my thoughts. “Yeah, yeah. Can you turn it up a little bit more?” I ask, “Text. Him. First.” damn, she's serious. “Okay, mom geez.”

Sammy 🩵

Me: hi sammyyyyyy

Sammy 🩵: hi bubba, is something wrong?

Me: no, I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight? Yk, play some games, watch some movies, its whatever you want to do:)

Sammy 🩵: now bubba, when would i say no? Ill be there at 9

Me: okay sam, love youuu

Sammy🩵: love u too bubba

End of conversation

“Okay, I texted him. You happy?” I say snarky. “Yes, indeed.” She says standing up to hug me. “You know you have to tell him sooner or later right?” Jesus.. “Dude, we’ve already had this conversation. It's not the right time!” I slightly raised my voice out of irritation. “Okay babe;” she laughed. “There’s no need to be angry.” she said. “Yeah, yeah.. I’m sorry, I’m just stressed. You're right.” I replied. “Yes.. I know, I’m always right. But if you don't tell him, I will.” She concluded. I chuckled dryly. “Okay.”

—-------------

Me and Missy hung out for a couple of hours until Sam texted me telling me he was on his way. Seeing that I looked at the time and realized it was 8:30. “Oh crap. I gotta go.” I tell Missy, giving her a quick hug and rushing out her apartment door. “Okay, bye babe! Good luck!” is what I heard from the distance.

On my way back to my house, I get a phone call from Kat.

You: regular

Kat: bold

Heyy kitty kat!

Hii y/n/n! Whatcha doing??

Oh i'm heading back to my apartment, I got plans with Sam.

Y/n are you serious??

I know Kat.

Your playing yourself for him, everyone says he doesn't even notice you

Please Kat, let me have this. You don’t know him like I do.

Okay, whenever he doesn't show up I'll always be here.

Gee, thanks. Anyways I gotta go, I’m back home. Bye kitty kat!!

Byeeee!!

End call

I sigh and walk up to my house, excited to see that beautiful face again. About 5 minutes later I hear a knock on my door. Yayyy! I opened the door to be a little disappointed to see a pizza delivery man. (u thought that was Sam didn’t you?) “Hello, 3 pizzas for Sam?” He says. “Yes sir. Thank you!” I say as he handed me the pizzas. After I put the food down on the kitchen counter and look at my phone. That's when I saw a missed text from Sam saying he ordered pizzas. An audible “no duh” came out from my mouth. I text back with a “Got them!”

About 10 minutes later I hear a knock on my door. It was the one and only Sam. “Sammyyyyy!!” I yell jumping on him for a hug. “Hi y/n/n.” He replies, snuggling into my neck. “You surely took your time.” I whisper into his ear. “Oh I'm sorry, traffic.” He says. We stayed like that for about 10 seconds. “Maybe you should come inside hun.” you say, pulling away. You hear an audible groan come from his mouth, but he complied none of the less.

—---------

Sam ended up staying there for 5 hours and it was really fun. Y'all did a lot of stuff, and occasionally flirted. You thought it was really weird because Sam never showed signs of liking you. But at the same time he could be joking. I just overthink too much. On the way out the door, I couldn't help but wonder if I actually had a chance.

“Thanks for inviting me over Y/n, I had a lot of fun.” Sam says. “Of course! You're welcome anytime.” I replied. After that, we just stared at eachother. Wow, this is weird. It was like he was waiting for something, I just gave him a confused look. He just sighed and said, “Anyways, bye.” and rushed out the door. That was even weirder but it is what it is. Since it was 2:30, I decided to take a quick shower and head to bed.

The next day

—---------

It was currently 3:30 in the afternoon and I was up thinking all night. I don’t know why but when I tried to go to sleep, I couldn’t. But luckily, I know what to do with Sam now. I called Missy to tell her.

You: Regular

Missy: Italic

Hello?

Hii bestie!

Hiii babe, how was last night?

It was amazing! We played games, watched movies..

Did you tell him?

No but that’s what I was calling to tell you. I know what to do now about it.

Oh my god! Finally!! So what?

I’m sending him a 4 page letter.

… What?

It’s a great way to express my feelings without embarrassing myself in person.

That is… genius! How come you didn’t think of that earlier??

Honestly I don’t know! It just came to my mind after he left last night.

Yess! I'm gonna leave you to it, get it done and there as fast as you can!

Okay, bye.

End of call

I ended up sitting there and writing that letter for 1 hour. It was really a 4 page letter expressing all my feelings to him. The way he makes me feel. The way I felt this way for 8 years. The way he keeps me safe. How I hope when I get the courage to come to him, to promise not to diss me. I told that I was too shy so I decided to write instead of saying it in person. After all that, I contemplated putting my name on it, but eventually decided against it. I put it in the envelope and enclosed it with a kiss.

____

I sat there for about 15 minutes arguing back and forth with myself about sending it but I knew I had to, I couldn’t hide any longer. I walked out to the drop off box and left it in there. I walked back home with a scared but excited look on my face, in hopes…

˜”*°•.˜”*°•He would get it on time•°*”˜.•°*”˜

࿎࿎🎀

I hoped y’all liked it. I’ve missed you guys so muchhh.

#colby brock #colby brock x reader #sam and colby #colby brock smut #sam golbach #sam golbach x reader #sam goldbach smut #sam and colby x reader #sam golbach smut #Spotify

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latibvles · 3 months

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true north.

and we’re back! a little late but I plan on doing all ten prompts TRUST AND BELIEVE! on that note, this next one is wedding — so here’s inez, post-war, where the invitation to a wedding between friends pushes her to leave the nest for a third time. luckily alex’s door is always open. tagging @upontherisers for listening to me rock back and forth over them. I did an embarrassing amount of googling about trains for this one that's how you KNOW it got serious.

—

Maybe it’s not fair of her to say that the invite is what did her in.

No, the invitation was the most expected part of this — going to June and Benny’s wedding sounds and feels more normal than most things. It was always going to turn out this way, wasn’t it? A big wedding with everyone there, practically acting both as a celebration and a reunion. Most who wanted to keep contact, kept it, Inez herself included — but knowing June and Benny, they probably went the extra mile anyway to hunt down those who had disappeared.

The combination of June’s fierce determination and Benny’s kindness is a force in its own right.

Maybe it’s just the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Maybe it’s that Inez is walking into her family’s living room, and telling her mother she’ll be going to Chicago in next May for the ceremony — and then has to remind her who June Cielinski is.

“What classes didja have? Y’never told me about her!” She’s bouncing Judith on her knee — who’s entranced with her father’s car keys at the moment. Inez’s jaw clenched.

“No ma she’s— she’s from my crew. She was our bombardier.”

There’s a click of her mother’s tongue, a feigned recollection of a June and an unrelated anecdote about how she’d always liked that name, how it was a contender before they decided on Judith for her baby sister, who looks at Inez and smiles, showing off a missing tooth.

So maybe it’s not the invitation itself, but the reminders that stem from it. Everything, from the moment she set her bag down in her family’s doorway, has felt unequivocally wrong. She loves her family — Inez is sure of that — but maybe there was a reason Ben married so quickly and then moved all the way to Texas that Inez is only just now seeing. The only things that feel right are the things she’s done that are separate from this house.

The collection of letters she keeps under her bed, namely. She’d asked for Alex’s address impulsively, not expecting him to so willingly give it over. But he did — tore a page from his sketchbook and scribbled it for her, and she’d kept that piece of paper tucked in her pocket from the camp, to Paris, to London, all the way back here, until it was crumpled beyond recognition and the writing faded with time. That was when he was still living at home. Now they wrote pretty regularly, back and forth, which was… nice.

With a little help from his parents and after figuring out his finances, he’d gotten himself a place a little bit out of the city. I love Detroit, he writes, but I think the quiet’s doing me some good. Sometimes, he sends drawings. He tells her about how he’s thinking of picking up teaching, now that he’s in the Reserve, and she tells him to go for it. He’d be good at it. He has the patience for children.

She tells him about Judith, and how the baby takes after their brother Ben more than herself. She tells him about the job she’s picked up at the schoolhouse, as a teacher’s assistant and how grateful she is that she could find work after all this. She doesn’t tell him about how out of place she feels, how stuck she is. Some things you just don’t say through a letter, and some things you just don’t say at all.

That all sounds great, he writes, I’m happy for you, and she knows he means it. You spend roughly nine months with someone, you can usually deduce whether or not they’re saying things just to be nice or not. Alex doesn’t just say things to placate people. If you ever find yourself coming this way, my door’s always open.

She hopes he means that, too. If this were five years ago, leaving home might’ve been terrifying to her. Now though, it was thoroughly scratched from the list of things that made her sick to her stomach.

My invite to Benny and June’s wedding came in, she writes.

Mine too. Looking forward to seeing everybody, he writes back.

That’ll be May of next year. A nice spring wedding in Chicago — because some people really do have it all figured out. Inez is not one of them. Part of her, pessimistically so, thinks that she never will be. She’s not resentful of her friends for moving on with their lives. She’s just angry that she can’t seem to do it herself.

It’s funny how she can reach her limit and still endure. The AAF taught her that. She packs a bag, but it goes untouched in the back of her closet for two whole weeks. At the very least — it’s enough time to pocket an extra check.

It’s enough time to say that she’s thought it through. To have an epiphany — to come to terms with it. At least she remained time conscious despite the changes she went through. She was molded into a pot but cast so quickly that there’s a crack in her now that feels impossible to ignore.

Leaving feels more natural to her than staying, even if she’ll end up coming back to this place in a few days. That much she knows of. But as of right now, this house feels like a bird cage with the door left open; her parents were probably just waiting for her to leave.

She heads to the train station after helping her mom wash dishes, after Judith’s gone to bed. Inez doesn’t announce her leaving like she might’ve in the past. She just takes one of Alex’s letters and walks the length of the beaten old sidewalks until she makes it to the station. The last time she was here, she was happy to be home. Now leaving brings a strange sort of relief.

It’s three different trains she’ll have to take. She’d probably end up on his doorstep in the afternoon if her math is right. And it usually is.

Inez tries, feebly, to sleep on the first train — from Nashville to Louisville, but some habits she just can’t seem to break. Thorpe Abbotts and the air raids made her a light sleeper, and the Stalag made it worse. She jerks back into consciousness with every bump, every coo of a baby, every high pitched squeal of the rails when they roll into a station. She’s always half expecting to wake up in that block again to Savorre grunting in suppressed pain, or Harrie right next to her, face shoved into the flimsy pillows to muffle whatever onslaught of tears was overtaking her.

It’s never that, though. It’s always the dim lights of the train car, the quiet murmurings of its occupants, her bag clutched tightly to her chest like it was a person because she didn’t want to fumble with shoving it in the space above her. She’d rather have a familiar weight in her lap. Inez would hardly call it sleep, more like sporadic naps, broken up by her snaps into being awake and trying to make some sense of what state she’s in to little avail. She hits Louisville at 2:00am.

There’s still time for her to turn back but, well, that doesn’t exactly make much sense. Doesn’t sit right with her, so she doesn’t.

About halfway through the second train that takes her from Kentucky to Ohio — she’s a livewire really, bouncing her knee, rustling through her bag for a book Jo sent her a couple weeks ago. As 4am ebbs into 5am and the night sky starts shifting into the gray-blue of dawn, she’s becoming more and more restless, and by the time she’s getting on that last train in Ohio that’ll take her to Detroit, she can’t help but wonder if this is a terrible idea.

Her nail beds, already the subject of her merciless picking, are a nightmare to look at and she wonders if she can get away with keeping her hands hidden in the pockets sewn into her skirt once she gets there. If she gets there. She could ask about direct routes back home the moment she hits the station and it’d be like she was never even here. She hugs her bag tighter to herself, like it would provide her some comfort.

And by the time she hits Detroit, it’s almost noon, and the city is busy, and Inez is reminded vaguely of pins in a map — of her old pilot who’d smiled as she put her pin right in the heart of it. Yeah, this makes sense, is really the only conclusion she comes to as she tries to hail down a cab. She half expects her pilot to be the driver.

It isn’t though. His name is Frank. He’s nice. For the thirty minute drive out from Detroit to a more suburban area, something that looks a little more like home, he tells her about how business has really been booming in the past year with all the soldiers coming back from overseas.

He asks if she knew everyone who served. She nods and dismisses it with a “feels like everybody knows somebody,” that makes him smile and laugh in agreement.

But talking to Frank doesn’t much prepare her for pulling up to the house that matched the address in her pocket. It’s a small house with a bright green lawn — white siding and a small porch, a pair of work boots by the front door. A bag of fertilizer. No flowers in the boxes yet though. She can feel her heart in her throat as the cab pulls off and she stares at the path up for a long, silent moment.

It feels right, being here, but he could easily tell her to go away. What was she even supposed to say? Anything she could come up with sounded petulant. My mother forgot who June was so I left. My house feels like a cage. My parents keep pretending I didn’t go to war and it sucks. She eyes one of the spindly cracks working its way through the pavement and her hands ball into fists, her bag feeling impossibly heavy. She should go home. She could walk it, she was paying attention the whole drive over. It’s only noon, there’s gotta be a direct train from here t—

The sound of the screen door rattling as it opens and shuts is familiar. Her gaze snaps up.

Alex is in a white singlet and jeans, wiping his hands with a dirty rag when he catches her. The shock on his face is evident, then the confusion.

“Inez?” She thinks he’s beelining it towards her, but he stops by his mailbox first, opening it. “Did I– Did I miss a letter? I didn’t know you were—”

“No. No I just…” Inez cringes as she lets go of her bag and it lands beside her feet with a gentle thump, but she can’t help picking at her hands. “You said your door’s always open so I…” Her mouth opens and closes like a fish, scrambling for some explanation beyond a simple it feels right, coming here. He’s coming towards her now, with the familiar, friendly smile, and relief washes over her as he looks over her face, then reaches down to take her bag.

“How long are you here for?” he asks then, moving on from her shoddy explanation.

“I… I don’t know,” she admits, rubbing the nape of her neck. “It was a little bit of spontaneous decision making.” She elects to withhold the fact that instead of waiting until the next day for the next direct ride to Detroit, she’d taken three trains. That it was hardly impulsive when she had three train rides to think about it, and going home just didn’t sit right with her.

“Well you let me know when you find out. I’d hug you but…” He gestures to the state of him — dirt stains on the front of his white singlet, sweat from the August heat shining on his skin. Inez laughs, a little breathlessly and nods in agreement.

“Didn’t know you were a gardener.”

“I’m not. My mama says the front of the house looks too plain so she bought me a bunch of flowers to put in the front.” He lets her walk in front of him until they reach the door, and then he’s getting the door for her to let her into the small living room, bleeding into a kitchen. A couple dishes laid out on a towel on the counter, a blanket tossed over a moss-colored couch. The windows are open, letting in a breeze. She assumes the hallway leads to his bedroom.

“I can help with that,” Inez offers as he sets her bag by the door. “The flowers.”

He smiles at that, something wide and warm and familiar in a way that doesn’t hurt — and Inez finds herself smiling back.

#ch: inez eckley #alexander jefferson #alexander jefferson x oc #masters of the air oc #mota oc #*wdawe #*poet writes #my pookie wookies #very normal about them #[CLENCHED TEETH THROUGH TEARS]#Cari has had to deal w me talking abt them for three days now so do the rest of yall

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love-kurdt · 7 months

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wip (writing is [happening, and here’s the] proof) sunday

from NTWDT2. i fucking love this scene and just had to share

“Guys… I have some news. It’s, uh… it’s pretty important.”

The sound of everyone’s forks on their plates stopped mid-scrape. I took a shaky breath.

“What about, sweetie?” Mom asked.

“So… I might have a boyfriend.”

“Might?” Dad grumbled, stabbing a piece of broccoli with his fork. “So, what, you have half a boyfriend?”

Mom scoffed. “Hopper, for Christ’s sake–”

“We’re Jewish, Joyce.

“For Christ’s sake–”

“Mom! Dad! Let him talk,” El cut Mom and Dad off, nodding at me to continue. “You were saying?”

“I have a whole boyfriend,” I playfully rolled my eyes. “We’ve been dating since November 2nd.”

“I’m very happy for you, Will. You deserve this,” my brother said in earnest, and I tried not to get choked up. He’d really been there for it all, hadn’t he? He’d seen me fall in love for the first time, and helped me through all of the grief and heartbreak that followed.

“Thanks, Jon.”

“So what’s this boy’s name?” Dad asked.

“Matt Winters.”

“Matt Winters,” El repeated, her eyebrows furrowing as she processed this new information. She shifted her gaze back up to me. “And you like him?”

“Um… I wouldn’t be dating him if I didn’t like him.”

“So why didn’t you invite him here for the holidays?” Mom asked, looking almost offended if it weren’t for the wide smile on her face. “You know we have no problem with hosting guests!”

“Yeah, I know. That’s not the reason why I didn’t invite him, though,” I grimaced. How could I explain that Matt wasn’t anything like Mike, and that I wasn’t sure how they’d react to me dating someone new? How could I explain that I still wasn't exactly completely over Mike yet, and taking Matt home for Hanukkah would have felt a little bit too… soon for me?

“I don’t know,” I continued, “I… I just… I want to make sure the guy I bring home for the holidays is someone I’m one hundred percent serious about. And I’ve only been dating him for a month and a half, not to mention he’s my first boyfriend ever! Cut me some slack!”

“So I guess you could say that this Matt is out of your… Wheelhouse,” Jonathan muttered, and El snorted. He just had to go there, didn’t he?

“Hmm,” Dad stroked his beard in thought. “I wonder if that tall glass of water of yours is back in town yet.”

“No, please, not this again,” I whined, putting my head in my hands as discussion about Mike Wheeler broke out at the dinner table.

This had been a common occurrence throughout all of high school. Everyone in my family was convinced that Mike reciprocated my feelings, and that we would eventually get together.

El and Jon teased me endlessly when I came home from Mike’s place, and forced me to recount every single second we’d spent together. Mom was a meddler; she’d always find ways to get Mike over to our house for family meals, and made it a point to emphasize the word family with the implication that he was a part of it. When Mike asked me to senior prom, that was the icing on the cake for Dad; I think he even made a chart after that. Dad was both my biggest cheerleader and my biggest comfort, especially when I told him about what happened after I found the letters.

But that chapter was over. So I cleared my throat, and everyone stopped talking, turning to face me.

“Matt is really great, guys,” I said in a low voice. “And yeah, he’s not Mike, but… at least give him a chance, will you? I’ll bring him home during Spring Break, and you guys can meet him then.”

#byler #byler fanfic #byler fic #byler tumblr #mike wheeler #will byers #will x mike #mike x will #stranger things #stranger things fic

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drgrlfriend · 1 year

Text

Fic Stats Meme

Rules: Give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words.

Most Hits: No surprise there. I'm constantly amazed by how fantastically this fic was received in such a big fandom. Windows

Summary:

Derek has a new neighbor who won't stop looking.

Excerpt:

“You’re blind,” Derek said flatly, the anger draining from him so suddenly he felt almost woozy. His vision cleared, his claws sliding back into blunt fingernails.

“Thanks for the memo, genius,” the kid said acidly. “I can still fucking defend myself, so don’t take another damn step.”

“Fuck, I...I’m sorry,” Derek stuttered.

“What?!” The kid’s brow crinkled. “I mean — what?! You’re fucking sorry!?” His lips thinned into a harsh line. “What, is this some kinda Hallmark movie where you’re discovering the error of your ways because you don’t want to rob a blind person?! That’s fucking condescending, man. I’ll have you know that —”

“Just, wait.” Derek interrupted what was apparently the start of a convincing argument as to why he should rob the kid after all, feeling his head start to spin. “This is — it’s a misunderstanding. I’m — I’m not robbing you. You’re — you’re safe, okay? I’m taking three steps back. Just — just let me explain.”

“Explain why you came busting into my apartment? Yeah, go right ahead, man, I can’t wait to hear this epic tale.”

Second-most Kudos: Layover

Excerpt:

Big, serious brown eyes were staring right into his from only a few inches away. The child had clambered half over the arm of Derek’s chair to study him at close range, her little rosebud mouth pursed in concentration.

“Uh.” Derek couldn’t look away as the girl reached out one pudgy hand and patted him gently on the cheek. Her scent was soft and sweet and somehow a bit familiar, just enough to keep Derek from shying away. Derek didn’t know too much about kids but he guessed this one was probably three years old or so, head still oversized in proportion to the short limbs and round little belly.

She seemed fascinated with Derek’s beard, eyes widening further under incredibly thick lashes as she petted Derek’s cheek some more, smoothing down the short stubble. Finally she grinned widely. “Good wuff.”

Derek jerked upright, hands clenching on the edge of his seat. Did she just say?...

“CJ!” The child was suddenly gone, lifted up by a strong, tattooed forearm around her little potbelly. “You scared the he— heck out of me! What have I told you about wandering — Derek?”

Third-most Comments:

Lucky in Love

Summary:

Clint is only a couple of sips into his cardboard cup of coffee, his brain barely out of neutral, which is probably why it takes him so long to realize that some damn psycho is trying to kidnap his dog.

Excerpt:

“I’m not some charity case,” Bucky says pugnaciously.

“I didn’t think you were,” Clint answers back readily enough. “I mean, I can tell you’re fucked up for sure, but of the two of us, I’m probably the bigger disaster. My sleep schedule is shit, and I drink coffee straight from the pot. I sing in the shower even though I’m deaf as fuck. I have arrows everywhere because I’m an archer — did I tell you that? And I was raised in a literal circus, so I’m not exactly domestic. Let’s see, what else?” He squints down at the ground, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah, I won the building in a poker game with the Russian mafia and every once in awhile they show up and try to take it back, but usually I handle it, no problem. Uh...”

Clint happens to looks up and Bucky’s eyes are wide, his mouth hanging open. Clint’s hand freezes where he’s rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly embarrassed. Yeah, when you put it all out there at once, it doesn’t sound so good.

Fourth-most Bookmarks: Layover again. That's a bit of a surprise!

Fifth-most Words:

Freedom's Reach

Summary:

Clint is about to move on when his eyes drift up to the lettering at the top of the window.

FREE PASSAGE TO THE WEST!

Clint knows that the circus folk mock him — call him too trusting, too soft-hearted — but even he knows nothing in this life comes free. The words puzzle him, and he reads them again carefully to make sure he hasn’t made a mistake.

His eyes are drawn to one posting at the very bottom corner, different from the others. This one is sun-faded and starting to yellow, curling at the corners. Clint crouches down, brow furrowing and lips moving as he sounds out the unfamiliar words.

Western Man Seeking a Husband — I am a kind and unassuming man of good financial means seeking a helpmate and companion. I have lost my arm in the service of our Union, but am otherwise free from disease. I am not particular as to looks, but am seeking an individual of equal youth and vivacity with whom I can share my affection and devotion. I am a man of quiet habits, moderate temperament, and kind disposition and would seek the same in my husband.

Fewest Words: Some of my ficlets in the Tumblr Ficlets compilation would probably count, but for freestanding fics it's this one:

The Set-Up

Excerpt:

“Y’know,” Steve starts, and Bucky’s jaw clenches instinctively. “Clint likes baseball. Or, at least, I think I saw him watching a game once. I mean, he was taking a nap in the lounge so I’m not sure if the game was on accidentally, but he didn’t change the channel when he woke up. Maybe you should ask him if he wants to catch a game some time? I mean, it’s not Ebbet’s Field, but Citi isn’t so bad, even if it is Queens…”

Bucky leans back on the couch, turns up the volume on the game, and tries his hardest to tune Steve out.

This was fun! Tagging anyone who wants to play.

#clint barton #the winter soldier #bucky barnes #hawkeye #marvel #mcu #winterhawk #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #my fic #ask game #authors #fanfiction #writers

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suckerforcate · 2 years

Note

Hi so I just read the princess!reader and if it’s no trouble could u maybe do a part two? It’s just so good! Maybe one where Brienne meets the parents and they’re just as nice and welcoming as everyone. And then maybe r’s sister is a knight and she’s very composed but when she sees r is home she goes little sister mode and instantly runs to r? Thank you!!

A better World Pt.2

Pairing: Brienne of Tarth x Reader

Word Count: 621

Warning: none

A/n: I had already thought about writing something like this, but wasn't sure if people would want to read it. So I was very happy about the request! I also wrote this with you @lord6-6fandom in mind.

Just as you entered the hall you felt two arms wrap around your neck. Considering she still wore her armour, your sisters abrupt hug hurt a little bit.

"(Y/n) your back!! I've missed you so much. Never again leave me for so long." You tried lifting Ellaria, just like you did when you were young. But you failed miserably.

"You have grown up way too fast. I told you to stay little!" You grinned at her but fast you lost her. As she looked Brienne up and down with a smirk on her face. You could see Brienne stiffen at that, so you stepped back to stand with her.

"What beauty do you have here?" Brienne tensed even more at that statement, reminded of everyone always calling her "Brienne the Beauty" and not in a positive way. But you grabbed her hand and she saw how you and your sister giggled at that, so she understood that just like everything else that had happened today, your sister was being serious.

"Mother, father, Ellaria, this is Brienne of Tarth. The first female knight of Westeros and the most amazing woman, no person, I have ever met." You looked up at her and shyly smiled.

"Oh, it's so nice to meet you Brienne. (Y/n) has talked so much about you in her letters." Your mother pulled Brienne into a tight hug and didn't seem to notice that Brienne looked kind of startled at that. She wasn't used to being hugged. At all. It had already been a long way for you to touch her without her stiffening and stopping whatever she was doing.

Your father came forward and grabbed Brienne's hand. That was much more to her liking. "I am honoured to meet you Brienne of Tarth. Usually I would tell you how I am going to kill you if you hurt my daughter. But I trust that as a knight you know how to treat her and also, I am not sure you wouldn't kill me first." Your dad laughed at that, always thinking he is the funniest person. But you loved him, so you could look over the very unfunny jokes.

"Come on, let's sit down. It's not very comfortable standing around." Your mother gestured to the table, and you all followed her to sit down.

"(Y/n), because you basically dragged me here, I still don't have the present for your parents." Brienne whispered in your ear.

"Oh, love, that doesn't matter. Just give it to them later. They won't care." You smiled at her and to her surprise you kissed her. She wasn't used to that kind of affection in public. In Westeros most people would judge you if they saw you kiss. But here it didn't matter. No one cared.

Brienne laid her arm around your waist and, again patiently, answered all the questions your parents but mostly your sister had.

"I became a knight because of all the amazing things (Y/n) told us about you! You're my inspiration."

"Thank you, that's very kind of you." Brienne smiled shyly and as she looked at you, you could see some tears in her eyes.

------------------

Later, as you were back in your room Brienne grabbed your hips and lifted you up. She carried you to the bed and gently let you down. Hoovering over you, she kissed you, and you stroked the hair out of her face.

"I want to stay here. With you and your family, forever. We can get married and live happily, without people judging us. I have never felt so safe and accepted in my life."

"I would very much like that. It's sounds perfect." You smiled at her and pulled her down to kiss her.

#brienne of tarth #brienne of tarth x reader #brienne x reader #game of thrones #gwendoline christie #gwendoline christie x reader #wlw #got

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dreamy-love222 · 4 months

Text

I used to write really long love letters to the boys I have had a crush on and hide them in my room.

My first love letter I wrote was when I was 11. It was In French my first language (at home we mainly talked French and sometimes the Tunisian dialect but even our dialect was different from the main dialect which was mostly Arabic with a bit of French words (because France colonised Tunisia) and English words because Americanisation of the Tunisian dialect…

So I wrote this letter on the weekend when I was in my grandmother’s old home in the Zahra (Tunisia) (my grandparents bought in the 80s) (they sold it in 2020 so they can live closer to my aunts because they grew old)

I spent 4 hours on this letter, it was about 6 pages long, I was confessing my undying love for Amir, see amir was a really interesting boy. He was the first in our class yet he was always causing trouble. I knew him since I was 5 years old and his mother was friends with my mom. He was cute but what really made me admire him is his intelligence. He pretended to not be serious about his studies but he was, his dad told him he has to be the first in order to do Judo after school. So he did everything to be the first. I admired his drive and his motivation to get what he want.

I remember in a math exam there was the mention of a dinar. That was the first time we ever got told to solve a problem with a dinar in it (dinar is like a euro) 1 dinar is 1000 millims (like cents) we were 7 or something so we didn’t know that. Except Amir. I know it doesn’t sound impressive but it was to me at that time. The problem was like Zayneb had 1 dinar that she got from her grandparents to buy candy. She bought 9 pieces for 50 millims (equivalent of cents)

How many millims does she have left

I also liked the attention he used to give me. He used to sit behind me in class and used to pull on my hair lol.

The teachers always complain about how nosy and not serious he is and how he makes his friends not pay attention in class.

He knew I knew how to draw because everyone in class knows and after lunch time we had free time and I would draw. Sometimes he would shyly ask me to draw him Mario/pikachu/sonic.

Since I was a kind little girl I would draw him what he wanted and the way his eyes sparkled when he sees my finished artwork made my day.

I was really good at sports too. So I would play soccers with the boys when I was younger than 10.

I was bullied from the age of 7 till I got out of this school. At 7 a traumatic sexual event happened to me, before that I was skinny and healthy. I never binged, I liked candy like all kids but one lolly would be enough for the day. But I started gaining weight. I remember I was 37kg at 8 years old and my classmates made fun of me for being that weight. Also became really closed off and I had a few accidents where I peed myself because someone touched me agressively behind my back and I got flashbacks of my nanny touching me… I became the weird girl that peed herself. No one would let that go. But still Amir continued to treat me the way he always have. He wouldn’t ignore me. Would sometimes tease me, never mentioned my accidents! He treated me normally when all the girls and boys in our class either ignored me or made fun of me.

When I didn’t have flashbacks I completely forgot what had happened to me (trauma related amnesia)

Everyone noticed how I started behaving. I became even more quiet and shy.

I was always melancholic. I used to always think about why my Daddy was so far away, why he had to leave to work in Paris as an orthopaedic surgeon… why he left me… but it got worse once I got abused because I thought if he was at home maybe i wouldn’t have had a mean nanny and her nasty boyfriend that always touched me in places I didn’t want to be touched. Mind you she only stayed for a month and then went to jail for grand theft from us. She basically stole 3 months of hard work that we never got back and her fiancé / bf left her so he won’t get in trouble. I remembered the touching but never the extreme moments of rape.

Anyway. So I was the weird kid because of all of this right? He still treated me the same and when no one else was watching he would ask me if I was okay. He was friends with my bullies but whenever he was around they wouldn’t be mean to me.

One of his friends started sexually abusing me when I was 9. It was the end of the school year and I was wearing a jean skirt and a hot pink tank top with hello kitty drawn on it and sneakers… his name was Youssef. (This dude forced me to greet him the French way when I met him again in 2022 March, kiss him on both cheeks it was awful I was completely neutral but my heart was beating so fast and I was so glad my cousin was with me and she felt that something very weird was going on) (he also tried dming me when he found my insta, saying how hot I am and how he wants us to be a couple, needless to say I blocked his ass) the abuse happened in tutoring sessions with my teachers present. He would touch me under the table and do anything to get to me, even with his nasty foot and would take my hand and make me touch his private parts. Ugh just thinking about it makes me shiver. Also when I hear tights ripping I get mini flashbacks, like my vision goes blurry and I find myself scared to death.

So Youssef at some point touched me when I started growing body hair (after summer 2015?) I was 12 then and the abuse went on for that long. And after he would abuse me he would make fun of me with the other bullies. He made a disgusting face and still touched me anyways, and and he started calling me a gorilla and a man. A cow and a fatty in Arabic. All the boys started calling me that and it made me feel like a monster… when I was just a little girl minding her own business that got touched without her consent when she was attending expensive tutoring sessions my mom payed for so I get better grades.

Anyway Amir defended me saying that they aren’t real men if they treat a girl like that. And I really appreciated that because he never really stuck up for me like that. He when they said I was fat he told them it’s true I was a bit overweight but I was really good at sports. I also did gymnastics at the time and ballet. So I could do some impressive tricks in gym class.

From that point on I started seeing him in a different light. He was the first man that defended me from other people who wanted to harm me. My dad was busy in Paris working and providing for us. But at least Amir was there. I started seeing him as my Savior. He was always there.

During the year of the 7ème (Tunisian school system I was 12) I developed a huge crush on him.

And I made a best friend called Yasmine, she wasn’t overweight but she was heavier than me (67kg, taller, super fit, puberty hit her early) (I was 62kg when I first turned 12 then my weight skyrocketed ) and I found her very pretty, she was a very light blonde with turquoise eyes that I found absolutely gorgeous (eyes exactly like dabi’s just a bit greener) (kinda had my first girl crush on her but I thought it was friendship) we both liked anime and drawing and we were in the painting club in our school) so I called her after I went back home from my grandparents home (it was a 2 hours long drive from there to home) and I read her the letter. She was like ewww you like himmm???? Out of all the guys in our class?? And I was like yes. He started having a deep voice, always wore sauvage(Dior) perfume. Has a very symmetrical face with harmonious features. was taller than me. Had a good sense of humour…. What’s there not to love. Anyway she wasn’t convinced but she was like you’re my BFF I’ll always be here for you… I took my letter to class on Monday. During after the school lunch time we went back to our class and there was a teacher watching over all the students of our class.

I was sitting next to Yasmine. We were talking about my love letter, and Amène was sitting behind us with her friend, that was also a beautiful girl with big brown eyes, porcelain skin and long silky dark brown hair. They were eavesdropping. And they were shocked that I liked Amir.

Yasmine was suspicious but we ended up showing them the letter. They were absolutely shocked because it was such a long romantic letter, I literally thought I was going to marry this boy. Talking about how I would love it if he was my first kiss… how we would have a home together. How much i admired him as a "man" and what qualities i admired about him. how manly strong and intelligent i thought he was… how i wanted him to be my husband and the father of my children. i really wrote that haha. (i didnt know how babies were made LMFAO) (maybe thats why my grandma was so upset when she read my letter) (but my mom told me when i was five that children were made out of love and i thought i would magically become pregnant after i get married and i would just have to wait one year after marriage and then i would get pregnant LOLOLL)

Anyway I keep getting off topic but!!!! She took my letter and told me « after this you will become a couple with Amir »

She walked all the way up to Amir. She told him to come next to our table and she whispered something I didn’t hear in his ear. He went so red and started reading the letter out loud. Everyone that could hear it was shocked. And I could tell he was going through all kinds of emotions while reading it. After what felt like an eternity of him reading the love letter that I wrote in French. He said he couldn’t believe his eyes and it was the best thing that has ever happened to him. That it was so well written and that he will cherish it forever. Then Amène told him ( his friends (my bullies) that were sitting behind him were listening) that she didn’t wrote it, Sarra did while pointing at me. He was disgusted and threw the letter on the ground saying ew and that he took back everything he said about it. He told me he would never be with me. Ever. That he didn’t find me pretty or cute. That he only loves Amène. It was the worst rejection ever. My heart shattered in million pieces. It hurt me so bad. I had tears in my eyes and I asked the teacher to go to the bathroom. She let me go.

So yeah that’s the story of how little Sarra got rejected for the first time. I still liked Amir but not as much as I did before. Because I didn’t want to love someone who will never be with me.

We are still friends on facebook but we never talk lol. Maybe I should mention this to him… because it was so silly looking back but it really did hurt.

Another moment worth mentioning is that while on a break in PE class I went to the girls bathroom to wash my face and it was empty, the boys bathroom was next to it and Amir went at the same time. The girls bathroom makes your voice echos so I started singing. I loved singing (still do) I was singing we were staying in Paris?? Or closer… I am not sure and the echo effect amplified my voice. When I got out he looked shyly at me and told me I had a really amazing singing voice and that I should be a singer… It made me fall in love all over again because I wasn’t used to compliments… my brother would always tell me that my voice was terrible and I should shut up.

Anyway all my classmates that made fun of me switched up after I lost weight and got rid of my acne. And he was the one that sent me the friend request on Facebook haha… keep in mind at this point I was one year younger than all of my classmates only in France I repeated two years and I found myself as the eldest classmate. Which feels freaking awful btw. Don’t get as bad as I did and have to get hospitalised for months and repeat years. Waste years.

Should I talk about Mehdi next? I think I will.

(I hope someone reads this and I haven’t wasted my time talking about insignificant school girl crushes…) is this interesting guys? Am I wasting my time? Ughh I want to feel closer to my moots haha… you should share your rejection or first instance of crushes… I would gladly read.

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