#charlie offers to eat it first and keep watch over it to prove that it’s not poisoned
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7 for the ask game
Thanks for the ask!
7 - Silent Fury
Tws: ableism and false beliefs towards schizophrenia and psychosis; fantasies of murder, blood mentions
Uther hates him.
Merlin is an insane man, and he’s in his castle, and no one else cares. Why should it matter that he was his father’s advisor?
He sees things that aren’t there; he replies to nonexistent voices; sometimes, he’s even convinced that his food has somehow been poisoned, and he makes his dragon eat it first. To him, at least one being is always watching him, is always behind him.
And he knows why he’s like this; because he’s used his magic for far too long, and that makes him a threat.
He wishes that he could enter Merlin’s room when he finally sleeps, when he finally isn’t going mad over the voices, and slit his throat. He wouldn’t be sloppy like whoever already attempted to, judging by the long scar there. Maybe beheading would be better, if he already survived that once; but, either way, he wants the cursed wizard’s blood to run down his sword.
But that stupid dragon is always with him, so silent fury is all he can regard him with.
#asks#danhengsbestie#my writing#the king of the nameless#old tkn content#my ocs#uther pendragon#merlin does not make charlie eat his food first of course#charlie offers to eat it first and keep watch over it to prove that it’s not poisoned#but uther is a stupid bastard man#tw: ableism#tw: murder fantasies#tw: murder mentions#tw: blood
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Light in the Dark - Chapter 35
While I figure out my life and work to process the death in my family, I thought this would be a good place to end this fic. If I can get my writing motivation back to continue on with the rest of the show, I’ll pick it up with the same characters, but losing my second mom has been a huge blow to me and I hate to keep anyone waiting.
I was actually pretty happy with this chapter and the ending, so hopefully you all are too! And of course, thank you to everyone who’s stuck through my 35 chapters. Thanks for not throwing fruit at me haha. :)
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Olivia was remembering a fatal flaw in her plan to stay in the same house as the group. Though small, the snag in her plan was quite loud, especially when hungry.
“She still wakes up a couple times a night to eat.” Olivia explained to the group, “I don’t want her waking you guys or Judith up.”
“I don’t like the idea of you two being in another house.” Rick gently argued. Even though Merle and Olivia had given Alexandria their blessing and told the group that it was a good place, the others were still nervous. After hearing about Terminus, Olivia couldn’t quite blame them. Though she wished they had a little more faith in her opinion. She’s pretty sure she would’ve noticed if the Alexandrian’s were cannibals.
Daryl agreed with that sentiment, shaking his head, “Nah, ain’t leavin’ ya alone. If ya sleepin’ in yer house then m’comin’ with.”
“Ya did hear us say the place was safe, right?” Merle looked between the two men, speaking what Olivia was too non-confrontational to say. “Dun trust us?”
“That’s not it.” Rick was quick to shut down the thought, “It’s…it’s hard to adjust overnight. We spent six months on the road. We went through Terminus; a place that promised to be safe, just like here, and wasn’t. Just takes some adjustment.”
Merle shrugged but didn’t argue any further. He had probably thought the place suspicious as well when he and Olivia first joined. It was hard to remember with how long ago it was. Bits and pieces stuck out in his memory: how the women had fawned over Olivia, the gifts left for Charlie at their door, how he’d gotten into a fight with Nicholas about guard duty. That had been fun.
“There’s a couple bedrooms upstairs. Could always sleep there instead.” Carol offered as a compromise. “That way we’re not being ‘bothered’ and we can still be close. We could always keep her too. Let you get some real sleep. I’m sure you and Merle haven’t slept a full night in months.”
“Nah. Ain’t takin’ my baby. She’ll stay upstairs with us.” Daryl stood from the floor, easily carrying the small girl with one hand. He offered a hand to Olivia and helped pull her up.
Carol lightly protested, “I’m not stealing her, Daryl. I’m trying to let Olivia sleep through the night.”
“Dun need yer help. Can take care of my baby.” That was a lie. He had nothing but a vague idea on how to take care of Ellie. He’d watched Beth make enough bottles that he probably could make one if needed tonight. But he thought Olivia mentioned something about breastmilk in the fridge and he had no idea what to do with that. Did he have to mix stuff with it? Did it need to be warmed up?
Either way, he wasn’t sticking around for someone to call his bluff. He let Cody and Merle say their goodnight to Ellie before bringing her upstairs with him.
Olivia shook her head and sent an apologetic look to Carol before grabbing her bag with Ellie’s stuff and following. She wasn’t sure what Daryl thought he had to prove all of the sudden. It wasn’t his fault he’d been separated from her and Ellie for a few months. He would’ve been with them in a heartbeat if he’d been able. Hell, he was with them in a heartbeat when he found out where they were. He’d blindly followed Aaron and trusted him based on nothing more than a few words.
“Hey you.” Olivia whispered, closing the bedroom door behind her. Daryl was standing in the middle of the room, rubbing Ellie’s back while she lay against his chest. She was so small compared to him it was adorable.
The girl in his arms yawned, eyes looking far too heavy for such a little thing to hold open. “Big yawn.” Olivia told her, walking up to Daryl to stroke her cheek. The action only further increased the droopiness of Ellie’s eyes.
“You’re so good with her.” She told Daryl after a few moments when she thought Ellie was asleep.
Daryl scoffed, “Dun feel like it. Feel like I dunno what the hell I’m doin’.”
“Welcome to the club.” Olivia smiled up at him. “I’ve felt like that since the minute I first held her.”
“Nah. Ya done this before. Ya know whatcha doin’. I ain’t been ‘round babies much. Jus’ a couple some friends had. An’ that’s years ago. What if I break ‘er? What if I hurt ‘er?”
She put her arms around his waist and rested her head on his arm. He was so cute when he worried about their girl. He was already the best daddy and he didn’t even know it. “It’s been years since I’ve taken care of a baby. And I already hurt her once. I nicked her little tummy in the zipper of her jammies. I swear I cried longer than she did. Unfortunately, they didn’t give me a book when they let me take her home, so I’ve just been winging it. We’re probably going to make some mistakes – I think all parents do. Important thing is what we do when we make them, right? Remember at the farm when we talked about doing better for each other?”
Daryl nodded. How could he forget that night? The night she told him she thought he was a good man. No one had ever told him he was good before.
“We just have to do the same thing for her.” Olivia continued. “We’ll make mistakes, but we’ll apologize when we’re wrong and keep doing better for her. Besides, we have a whole family to help us. We don���t have to do it alone.”
He shrugged. That idea wasn’t particularly appealing. He already felt like a shitty dad for not being there the first three months she was alive. How the hell was he supposed to look them in the face and tell them he was a shitty dad who didn’t know how to take care of his girl?
“It’s hard to admit.” Olivia read his damn mind in that way she always did. Apparently six months apart did nothing to diminish how well she knew him. He really should stop being surprised. “The first three weeks after she was born I didn’t let anyone do anything for her; not even Merle. I had to take care of her because I’m her mommy and she’s my baby and I should be good at this because I’m her mommy. I had to raise those boys all by myself. I just thought I had to do this all alone too. It was miserable. She woke up every three hours to eat and I was exhausted all the time and it was so so hard. Finally, Merle snapped, in that way he does, and made me let him help me. Stubborn man slept outside of my room on the damn floor so he could hear when she cried.”
Daryl could easily picture that. His brother was damn stubborn when he wanted to be. Had that Dixon stubbornness Olivia always talked about. An annoying quality most times, but it did have its benefits when Merle used it for good. Just another thing he’d have to thank Merle for later he supposed.
Olivia carefully took the sleeping girl out of his arms and laid her down in the mini bed that was next to the larger one her and Daryl would be sleeping in. Daryl had heard what the thing was called but couldn’t remember the name of it. It had a fancy name for the fancy people who used them. He was pretty sure the friends he had with babies just slept together in the same bed. Or put the baby in a crib.
Once Elodie was settled, Olivia wrapped her arms securely around Daryl’s waist and his nose nestled in the crown of her hair out of pure habit. She smelt different, not flowery like she had at the farm or like bland hotel shampoo like at the prison. Instead, it was more…fruit? Melon? Or was it citrus? It didn’t matter. The important thing was that she was there. She was there and alive and healthy. She was the three things he thought he’d never again get to say about her. And God did that feel good.
“If you need some time away I understand.” Olivia whispered.
His brow twitched and he nearly scoffed at her. Time away? He’d just gotten her back. Was she trying to get away from him? Was there someone else? Had she been like Shane and dreaded the fact that he returned? “Do…do ya…do ya not want me ‘ere?” The words were hard to force out of his throat. He’d spent six months away from her, mourning for her and their child…and now, on the day he found her, on the day he learned she and their child were alive, she didn’t want him?
“What? Daryl! No!” She pulled back, though not completely out of his arms. Just enough so she could cup his face in her hands and look into his eyes, “Daryl, why would you think that?”
“Ya said….”
“For you, Daryl. I mean…you came to this place and now you’re forced into being a dad an-“
“Forced? ’Livia. I knew ya was pregnant. Was pregnant back at the prison. Weren’t forced inta nothin’. Spent six months without ya both…spent six months thinkin’ ya were...”
She rubbed his cheeks with her thumb. “I know. That’s what I mean though. You spent six months thinking we were dead and then you came here and we’re alive and now you’re thrown into this and if you wanted a break or time away to think then I’d underst-“
“It was the worst six months a my life.” Daryl cut her off with just a whisper. He placed his forehead against hers and cupped her cheek, needing to feel that confirmation on his skin that she was really here with him, needing her to understand that he meant every word when he said that his life had been a living hell without them. “Hated every damn minute I’s still breathin’ without ya. Already hate tha’ I missed ‘er first three months. The hell’d I wan’ more time away from ya for?”
Olivia shrugged. She wasn’t trying to force him out or give him the wrong impression. But she knew how overwhelming parenthood could be, especially when a child is thrown in your lap. He’d already been through so much in the time they were apart. The last thing she wanted to do was add more stress to his life.
“S’actly. Dun need time away from ya. Need more time with ya. Missed the hell outta ya, Sunshine.”
Olivia couldn’t help but smile at him, “I missed you too. I’m so glad you’re here. Merle has been doing the absolute best he can, but…he’s definitely no Daryl.”
“Always knew I’s the cooler brother.” Daryl joked, earning a stifled Olivia giggle as a reward. He’d briefly forgotten about the sleeping baby next to them but was glad she’d remembered. Experiencing a grumpy Ellie wasn’t high on his to-do list. Especially not when it was sure to come on its own in a couple hours.
“Did you wanna shower before bed?” Olivia brushed the hair that had fallen into his eyes back out of his face. She would have to ask Jessie if the woman would cut it for him. Cutting hair was the last thing Olivia trusted herself with, even if she did want to run her fingers through it. “We have hot water.”
A shower did sound nice after so long on the road…though there was something slightly more appealing than that. He’d missed his girl. Really missed her. And the promise of an empty room, in a safe zone with walls and no threat of the undead, and away from the prying eyes of the group sounded downright heavenly.
Even with the new addition to his family there had to be a way to make it work. He knew Olivia, there was no way in hell she went three weeks with no shower before Merle started helping her. Besides, Ellie had just fallen asleep. What were the odds that she woke up?
What were the odds she woke up? What if he couldn’t hear the girls cries over the sound of the water or over Olivia’s delicious moans of pleasure while Daryl-.
No. He had a family now. A daughter who needed him, who he wasn’t there for for the first three months of her life. He was just being selfish.
“What do you think?” Olivia pulled him back above the surface from the depths of his racing mind. He was losing it. Whether it was the stress of being on the road with little shelter and even less food, or the overwhelming emotion of finding out his other half and child were very much alive and well, or the strange whiplash of all emotions in a few short hours, Daryl wasn’t sure. But Olivia was staring at him in that way she did when she was worried about him and the last thing he wanted was for her to worry. God knew she’d done more than enough of it the last few months. And he didn’t even have to be around to know he was right.
Daryl shook his head to help clear his mind, “Sounds nice.”
Yeah that wasn’t going to fly. Olivia knew him far better than that. “Sounds nice?” She repeated skeptically. “What’s wrong?” As she pulled him back in closer, she realized exactly what was ‘wrong.’
It took every ounce of his self-control to prevent the uninhibited moan from escaping his throat as she rolled her hips in just the right fucking away against him. Little thing knew what she was doing too because when he finally wrangled the lust down far enough in his chest to open his eyes, she was staring at him innocently, biting her bottom lip between her teeth. God he’d make her writhe beneath him.
He lowered his hands so they were both cupping her ass, forcing her to grind against him on the same spot she’d hit earlier. This time Olivia broke, a moan caught in throat before she remembered to bite her lip. It had been far too long.
“She gunna be okay?” Daryl breathed against her ear.
Olivia nodded frantically, trying to get the words out in between Daryl’s needy kisses. “I…I have her baby monitor. Then we…we can….”
She didn’t need to finish her sentence. Daryl knew exactly what they were doing.
.--.
Just as predicted, little Ellie stirred when the clock next to Daryl read 2:37. He was a light sleeper anyway but mix in the sheer terror of something being wrong with his little girl and he was waking constantly through the night. A quick check of his girls would ease him enough that he could sleep, but now Ellie was actually shifting, and a new jolt of anxiety woke him up as he realized she would need something from him.
Olivia had given him instructions on how to make her bottle after a lot of pushing from Daryl. He had slept worse than she had, she was sure of it and therefore she didn’t want him to have to wake to take care of Elodie. He could at least take a couple nights to fully rest first in her opinion.
Still, Daryl was persistent, always trying to take care of her before himself, and she’d relented after he promised to wake her if he needed sleep. Sometimes Ellie could be quite stubborn. As of late, according to Olivia, Ellie was getting better about feeding and going to sleep shortly after, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t throw her daddy for a curve ball just because she could.
A small whimper pierced the air and Daryl knew he had to stop thinking and start moving or his plan to let Olivia sleep was going to be foiled before it began. He leaned on one arm, peering over the bassinet, as Olivia had called it, at the little girl. When he came into view, she whimpered again.
He stuck his hand out for her to grab onto and she clutched his middle finger like it was her lifeline to the world. In all fairness to her, he was the provider of food for her at the moment. “Ya hungry, girl?” He whispered to her.
She whined at him again and pulled his hand to her mouth.
With a groan, he scooped her up in his arms and headed downstairs. He silently begged her not to cry when they entered the living room. Though knowing his luck, that was when she’d start screaming.
She was a considerate little thing because she didn’t once cry while he warmed the milk up to room temperature. Any respect she had for the group did not apply to the bottle. As soon as she had it in her sight she was trying to suck on it. Daryl smiled at her, “Eat like ya Momma’s been starvin’ ya, girl. M’I gunna have ta have a talk with ‘er? Hmm?”
Once he was back upstairs he was able to sit in the second bedroom so they couldn’t disturb anyone. Though it was only the first night of taking care of her, he quite liked the quiet moments they shared. It was nice to spend time with her away from the buzz of the group. He felt more confident in what he was doing without their careful gazes. Well, as confident as he could anyway.
“Daddy ain’t very good at this.” He told Ellie honestly. “Daddy ain’t never been around a lil’ baby ���fore. Gunna try real hard ta be a good one though. Gunna keep ya safe an’ make sure ya always know how much I love ya. Promise I ain’t never gunna hurt ya…not ever like my ol’ man did….” Daryl sighed. He wished he could promise her that he wasn’t going to hurt her ever, but Olivia was right. He was going to make mistakes. He just hoped that she could forgive him when he did and wouldn’t hate him like he hated his father. “Gunna try my best with ya, Ellie-girl. Always gunna try an’ do righ’ by ya. Promise. Hell, when ya older…even pinky promise.”
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When Olivia woke up the next morning, her heart was as full as it’d ever been.
Daryl was asleep next to her, their daughter on his chest, with blankets tucked around himself as if to prevent him from moving in his sleep. He was so sweet with the girl already.
Downstairs in the living room, was her family. All of her family.
She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of everyone together, all huddled up under shared blankets with shared pillows in a shared space. They provided and protected one another, as they’ve always done, and they survived.
It was by no means the perfect world that Olivia had dreamed of back at the prison. The walkers would still roam the Earth, probably forever, and things would probably never go back to the way she had known them before getting on that plane to Atlanta, Georgia.
Instead, they had made their own perfect world.
In this perfect world, she met Daryl out hunting for their little group at the quarry. She had made friends at their little camp and stumbled upon him and his brother, Merle. After a bumpy introduction that led to them joining Olivia’s group, Daryl joined her on hunts. She thought he was handsome; his own kind of handsome: rugged, strong, and not afraid to work. He thought she was beautiful, seeing the heart that was always willing to help and always had space for another soul.
They clicked well when hunting at the quarry. She felt so comfortable with him that she opened up. Together they would laugh and share stories about their lives, forgetting about the darkness of the world outside.
He protected her though every step of their journey, never letting harm come to her if she could help it. Though at first she didn’t quite understand his intentions until they shared a kiss in Hershel’s living room.
In their perfect world, his tie was the family they’d built, but naturally it was the strongest with her and he easily followed her up north once it was safe to make the journey. He met her family, well, her brother, and Daryl loved him like his own, protecting Cody and teaching Cody everything he knew. He could talk mechanics and vehicles and weaponry, Cody soaking up knowledge like a sponge. The three went out on nature hikes and went hunting together and Daryl called her sunshine and her heart fluttered every single time.
He moved into the house Olivia shared with Merle and often used Aaron’s shop so they could spend time working on cars together. Daryl was handy in ways that Olivia was not, fixing the sink and the generator and the stove. Olivia spoiled him as best she could in return. She searched for new arrows and tools and clothes that he’d roll his eyes at and say he didn’t need even though he would wear the same few shirts under that leather jacket every day of his life. But she spoiled him in more than mediocre things found on runs; peppering his face, his hands, his back with kisses and she threw her arms around him every time he came home and sat on the floor with him at night while they played with Ellie and she did everything in her power to convey to them both just how much she loved them.
In this perfect world, the neighbors, her little family, would come over for dinners and drinks and dumb little old world games Olivia and Glenn would bring home. At the dining hall, they always stopped to talk to Carol and Officer Friendly was always around with his family: a sassy little son and a beautiful giggly daughter, and he and Michonne basked in both of their lights.
They walked around the neighborhood on a Sunday stroll, where they’d find Glenn and Maggie planning out the next but they both wave with a big grin and an affectionate pinch of Ellie’s cheeks. Eugene often indulged Olivia’s quest for knowledge and talked all of the old-world science and technology while Rosita rolled her eyes and gladly occupied Ellie’s time. Daryl and Abe could only shake their head at each of their respective companions.
In their perfect world, little Elodie Charlotte was a pure gift. And instead of standing in their old prison block, Daryl stand in his and Olivia’s room, holding and feeding their baby. He cooed at her and called her ‘Little Knee-Capper’ because Daryl was Daryl and he never forgot about that name and “Ellie will be perfect knee height in, like, two years.”
And his eyes met hers. He always would seek out Olivia and he smiled at her so freely and so full of love.
Because in their perfect world, though they had to live in fear of walkers, and though they had to mourn the losses of friends turned family gone too soon from an unjust and cruel existence, and though they had to struggle every day of their lives alongside their loved ones, just to survive...in their perfect world, they were positive about and fought for the future. One where they could grow old and be happy and healthy and, most importantly, together.
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From 🍄 anon after I basically begged for angsty requests:
hello flick, if you want to write hunger with little to no comfort,,,,, consider this,,,, shayne,,,, not letting himself eat back when he still lived with madeline and watson,,, and not telling charlie,,, because he doesn’t want to worry him,,,,
This is closer to a whump fic than a hurt/comfort fic, so be warned. Also, just a reminder, these OCs are 19-20ish at the time. Shayne gets a little comfort, just not the right kind.
CW: emotional whump, disordered eating, low self-esteem, hunger with pain and affecting cognitive function, little/no comfort, psychological abuse.
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He woke for what seemed like the fiftieth time that night, groaning as he took in the appearance of his room. He sluggishly rolled over, frowning in the direction of the little clock that sat on top of his set of drawers.
5:35am. An acceptable time to give up on sleep.
He sat up slowly, trying to gauge how much he could move without making himself dizzy. He rubbed his eyes, the stray ends of sleep disappearing and leaving a stabbing pain in the pit of his stomach. He pressed a hand over the pain, frowning when he felt his stomach rumble under his palm.
Maybe that’s what had been keeping him from sleeping.
Are you hungry, Shayne?
A shiver ripped up his spine. He stood up, shaking his head to chase out the phantom voice; he couldn’t deal with the Madelyn in his head, especially not while she was also in the house with him.
He tried to remember what he’d eaten recently. He’d been shaky after school yesterday, and he’d tried to eat a cup of instant noodles, but he’d only managed a few mouthfuls before starting to feel nauseous, and the cup had ended up in the bin along with most of its contents. Before that, he’d had a granola bar for breakfast, and before that –
No, wait, the granola bar hadn’t been yesterday. It’d been the day before that. It was definitely that week, for sure…
He swallowed, wondering if he should have breakfast today. It was always a gamble; he never knew when Watson or Madelyn would expect him to work, and it was always much messier and more painful when he had food in his system.
Not to mention that food always came with a side helping of judgment in this house.
He took his time getting ready, though there was little to relish about the morning. He crossed the dark hallway to the bathroom, took his usual lukewarm shower and brushed his teeth, towel-dried his hair, put on the grey-and-navy uniform that would keep him relatively invisible for most of the day.
In this house, though, it was impossible to stay invisible.
Madelyn was in the hallway as he made his way downstairs with his backpack. His stomach dropped, her gaze making the hairs on his forearms prickle. He quickly tugged his sleeves down from his elbows to hide the goosebumps that sprung up.
“Morning, Mads.”
“Good morning,” she snapped, eyeing him up and down as he stood, silent, on the last step, gripping the handrail. She had piercing amber eyes and dark, silky hair that fell to her waist when loose. That morning, she’d twisted it into an elaborate structure at the nape of her neck.
Shayne shrugged his backpack a little higher on his shoulder. “Do… Do you need me for anything?”
She scoffed at that, eyes turning away from him. “If it were possible to prove yourself useful this morning, don’t you think I would have already informed you?”
He nodded. “Sure. Sorry.”
“Could you tell me what time you’ll be home after school today?”
Shayne swallowed, only hesitating for a second. “Five o’clock. As soon as the bus gets in…”
“You have no… plans?”
He shook his head. There was no way he’d let Charlie rope him into hanging out at the Mulberry house, not while he was feeling so weak and drained. Even worse, he’d probably be offered dinner if he showed up there.
At just the vague thought of food, his stomach shifted and let off a low growl. He quickly crossed his arms, shuffling his feet and clearing his throat at the same time. With her heightened senses, Madelyn surely heard it, but she didn’t react beyond narrowing her glare.
“Nothing?” she asked. “We’ve seen so little of you recently.”
Shayne shook his head and cleared his throat again. “Do you need me for something then?”
“Full of questions this morning, hmm?” Madelyn shook her head and took a step towards the kitchen. “Just be home when you say you’re going to be home. Otherwise, you know… I’ll have to send Watson out to find you again.”
A chill rolled down Shayne’s back as he watched her step out of his way. It was vague, but it was a threat, not just to him, but to Charlie and his parents. He bit into his cheek, hot streaks of anger flashing through his head and tightening the muscles in his chest.
Madelyn raised her eyebrows. She didn’t quite gesture towards the front door, but it felt like an instruction to leave. He stormed past her and out the front door, letting it slam behind himself in what instantly felt like the pettiest form of rebellion ever.
He spun around and lifted both his middle fingers towards the door; Madelyn had several supernatural abilities, but seeing through doors wasn’t one of them.
“Fuck you,” he mouthed silently, with enough force that he might as well have screamed it. He took several steps backwards before he turned to face the road, proceeding like a zombie beneath the rain-dampened trees.
His hands felt funny. He lifted them slightly and frowned when he found he couldn’t hold them steady. He crossed his arms over his chest and held himself, taking gulps of air into his lungs to try to calm himself.
But even when he managed to tame the fiery, hateful anger, he was still shaking. The centre of his stomach ached as waves of hunger weaved back and forth inside of him. As the rusted sign for the bus stop came into view, its edges seemed to blur, and the road tipped to the side.
Shayne freed one hand from under his own arm and pressed it to his mouth, wondering for a second if he was going to be sick. Instead, it was just a shallow burp that rolled up, churning his stomach and making it growl violently.
“Mm. Fuck,” he whispered to himself. He glanced down the empty road, checking that the bus wasn’t arriving just yet. He held a hand over his stomach, pushing against it and rubbing harshly, hoping to coax the growls out before he was surrounded by other students. He realised he’d forgotten to fill his water bottle before leaving the house, so he couldn’t even get some liquid into his stomach to shut it up. He’d need to remember to go to the water fountain before his first class.
As the bus crested the hill, he shoved his hands in his pockets, staring down at the ground. He always wondered what he looked like to the students looking out the bus windows. He’d never figured out how to hold himself in a way that seemed natural.
The bus driver didn’t even bother to look at him, which was normal. Shayne glared at a first-year student who was staring at him while whispering something to his friend. He was used to hearing himself being talked about, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it. He already hated that he took up physical space; he could barely stand the idea that he also took up residence in people’s minds.
He walked until he reached the seat where Charlie was sitting, staring down at some loose sheets covered in notes while wearing in-ear headphones. He looked up after a few seconds, breaking into an easy smile.
Fuck. That smile. It usually pissed him off so much that he would just look away whenever it popped up on Charlie’s face, but for some reason, Shayne found it hard not to stare this morning.
“You want to sit?” Charlie asked, pulling out his headphones.
Shayne swallowed, unable to bring himself to nod. Charlie’s backpack was in the seat next to him. It would need to be moved if he was going to sit down.
You take up so much fucking space –
Without even waiting for an answer, Charlie pulled the backpack towards himself, propping it on his lap.
The hollow space inside of Shayne throbbed, ached.
You're like a black hole.
"Go ahead," Charlie urged him, nodding to the free seat.
Shayne swayed a bit, though he could pass it off as though the motion of the bus had caused it. He held in a groan and sat down next to Charlie. He shoved his backpack down between his feet. He was tempted to just let his head rest against the back of the seat in front of him. The bus had only been in motion for a few minutes, but he was already light-headed again.
A flutter of panic hit his chest as he realised Charlie had said something else, and he’d missed it.
“What?” he asked, slumping back in his seat.
“I said, ‘how are you?’” Charlie shrugged, still wearing that smile. “You okay?”
Shayne nodded briskly, glad that Charlie provided him with an adjective that he could lie and agree to. It saved him having to fabricate a lie himself.
“You?” he asked, feeling secure in the knowledge that anyone – including Charlie – could easily be distracted if they were coaxed into talking about themselves.
“Yeah, I’m…” Charlie sighed, glancing at his notes. “I’m half-dead this morning. Just hoping my coffee kicks in before second class, for the history test.”
As a fun kick to the ribs when he was already down, Shayne had forgotten about the test. He’d also likely forgotten every word of their history textbook. His found it hard to concentrate these days, and everything that passed in front of his face seemed to dissolve somewhere between his eyeballs and his brain.
“Hey, are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
Fuck. Charlie had wasted no time in swinging the focus back towards Shayne.
Shayne felt his heart start to pound, cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. He hated this. He wished he’d found somewhere else to sit. He missed the days when nobody gave a shit, nobody asked him questions like how he was or if he was feeling okay. He’d blacked out in art class the previous term, and nobody had even noticed; they’d all just assumed he’d put his head down to go to sleep.
And yet, Charlie… Charlie saw him.
He wondered what would happen if he told him the truth. If he said that he was scared and ashamed to eat anything, that he was so hungry his stomach hurt, that this was still so much better than the alternatives...
Shayne glared at the back of the seat in front of him, hating himself for even considering burdening Charlie with all of that. Charlie was staring, still waiting for him to say something, but he didn’t exactly look worried yet. One advantage of being a miserable bastard was that Shayne didn’t have to put up an exhausting, cheerful façade.
“Kind of tired,” he said finally.
“Okay." Charlie frowned. "Well, I’m going to read over my notes a few more times, but if you’re really tired, I’ve been told my shoulder makes a good pillow.”
Shayne blinked with genuine incomprehension. The words didn’t stick in his brain long enough for him to dissect them; all he could really focus on was trying to breathe in time with the hunger pangs fluctuating in his stomach. He could usually keep it relatively quiet that way, but being this close to Charlie was making him even more anxious than usual.
“What?” he mumbled.
Charlie’s eyelashes fluttered as he broke into another smile, his gaze flicking away from Shayne’s. “Um, you can sleep on my shoulder, if you want.”
Shayne scoffed under his breath.
“Or don’t,” Charlie laughed, turning his attention towards his notes. “Whatever.”
Shayne’s gaze wandered towards the paper in Charlie’s hands, skimming over the headings that he’d jotted down in his annoyingly pretty handwriting. The topics sounded vaguely familiar, like he remembered them from a movie he hadn’t watched since he was a toddler. Like he’d last heard them from the other side of a thick veil.
His stomach pinched, and he realised he was hugging his waist again in an attempt to ease the pain and muffle any unwanted noise. He swallowed harshly, glancing from Charlie’s notes to Charlie’s shoulder and remembering his offer.
It was so silly. And yet Shayne wriggled a little closer.
The fabric of Charlie’s jacket was cool, unpleasantly so, against his cheek at first, but he quickly got over it. His head instantly felt better, supported by something solid instead of trying to follow the turns of the bus. Shayne inhaled deeply as his stomach squeezed and his shoulders tensed against the pain. A low grumble began to surface, soft enough that he covered it up with a sigh.
“I know I sound like a broken record,” Charlie said, startling Shayne a bit, since he’d thought he’d gone back to revising. “But… you can tell me if something’s wrong.”
“I’m fine,” Shayne said. The words felt like shards in his throat. He didn’t know – wouldn’t realise for a while yet – why it was getting more and more difficult to bring himself to lie to Charlie.
Charlie nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Shayne closed his eyes and continued taking deep, delicate breaths.
#hunger#whump#angst#hunger fic#whump fic#hunger mention#starvation mention#StW Shayne#hurt no comfort#no comfort#hunger writing
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I know I'm just posting incorrect quotes but I wrote this on Sunday after more than six months without writing anything and I liked it, so I thought someone out there may like it too. Enjoy! :D
Pairing: Jake x Charlie (my MC)
Word Count: 3.2k
Warnings: angst with a happy ending, spoilers for ep 8
Charlie walked up the steps slowly, her backpack weighing down her shoulders, the take-out bags of Chinese clenched tightly in her left hand. She checked her phone the hundredth time since leaving her house, making sure she had gotten the right address. The restaurant in front of the motel was a pretty compelling evidence that yes, she was in the right place, but she couldn’t help but wonder if she had gotten something wrong; if she did, this was going to be a tad awkward for whoever was on the other side of the door.
Reaching the number 543, Charlie finally put the phone in her pocket, letting out a shaky breath out through her mouth. Pushing her hair out of her face, she closed her eyes and counted to five.
You’re fine. You’re in the right place. He’ll be happy to see you, you know that. Pissed maybe, but certainly happy too. Just knock on the door and everything will be okay
Finally, she knocked twice on the door, quiet enough so others wouldn’t hear but loud enough for him to hear; she only hoped he wouldn’t think she was one of the people that were after him. Time seemed to pass slowly and Charlie started to get restless. She tapped her foot on the floor, her breathing getting shakier with each passing second that she didn’t hear anything on the other side of the door. The bags in her hand were hot enough to warm her hand and she changed them to the her right hand, rasing her left one to knock again when there was finally shuffling in the room. Quietly, she waited for something to happen: for him to ask who it was, for him to start packing all of his things in a rush or for the door to open, she wasn’t sure which one.
Not bearing the silence and the lack of reaction, she finally talked, “You know, it’s kind of rude to leave a friend waiting outside in this weather. Specially when she has brought food.”
That, at last, got a reaction from him. Charlie heard footsteps, a loud noise followed by a curse, and the sound of the lock of the door. It didn’t open but she knew it wouldn’t take long anymore. He may not have known what her voice sounded like but he would know what to ask of her to know he’s safe; and she knew exactly what to answer.
“It’s also rude to just stop by the door when we both know you want to ask something so I’ll prove who I am.” No answer. With a sigh, she continued, “What was the first thing I asked about you when we started talking?”
Silence followed by some shuffling. Then, “You asked what kind of hack programs I use and I listed four of them to you.” Charlie smiled. I knew it was him. “What did you tell was your imagination about meeting me?”
“I imagined you were wearing your black hoodie, like you probably are now. I imagined your eyes looked so familiar because you are so familiar to me already. I imagined you would hold me in your arms and tell me everything would be okay because we were together.”
It took five seconds for the lock to turn and the door to open. Charlie stared at him with a soft expression, looking for his eyes to see the familiarity she knew she would find and learning what he really looked like; Jake was tall—a lot more taller than her—his long hair was as black as a moonless sky, his eyes a clear grey, dark bags from sleepless nights under them, his skin thin and pale from being closed off for so long. He was indeed using a hoodie, but this one was a dark blue instead of black, a Metallica T-shirt badly hidden under it.
Charlie knew he was staring at her just intently, memorizing her face, and she let him. She watched his eyes wander through her face, the lines around them softening and making him look a lot younger than he actually was. Amazement was etched in his face, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, and Charlie thought she had never seen someone as beautiful as Jake; she wasn’t sure if it was because she was finally seeing him in front of her, or if it was because of the way he was looking at her, or if it was just the fact that she was so goddam happy for having found him. Whatever it was, Charlie was certain Jake was the most amazing human being she had ever seen.
After a few minutes, Jake finally let out a shaky breath and tentatively raised his hand towards Charlie, hovering it over her left shoulder. She gave one tiny step towards him, placing her own hand on his shoulder and softly pulling him towards her; it was the action Jake needed to pull her hard to his chest and bury his face on her hair, his arms closing tightly around her shoulders. Charlie moved her free hand to Jake’s hair, threading her fingers through it, and pressed her ear against his chest, listening to his heart beat as fast as her own.
She lost count of how long they stood there but, eventually, her bag started to weigh a lot more than it already did and she gently pushed Jake back enough to look at his eyes. “This is all good and great but we should probably get inside. It’s freezing, my bag’s heavy and the food is just getting cold.”
Jake chuckled, his cheeks blushing as he scratched the back of his neck and gave a step back. “Of course, I’m sorry. I guess my surprise overpowered me. Come on in,” he waved his arm towards the room, waiting for Charlie to enter before closing the door and locking it once again.
Placing her bag on the floor, Charlie looked around the room; the curtains were drawn shut, the bed was a mess of pillows and blankets, there were two duffles by the foot of the bed and an array of laptops and wires on the table. Nothing unlike what she had expected from Jake. She turned to him with a smile and offered him the take-out bags. “It won’t be exactly like you wanted but we do get to eat Chinese food.”
“I think the least of our problems are not being at the restaurant.” Jake took the bags from Charlie before placing them on an empty space at the table. He kept his back to her, seeming to be clearing some more space on the table. Charlie frowned, watching as Jake avoided her eyes when he closed the laptops and put them together on the bed.
“Jake? Are you okay?”
Jake’s shoulders tensed before turning back to her, his eyes shielded by a strand of her. “What are you doing here, Charlie? How did you find me?”
Charlie sighed, raising a hand to her shoulder to press on a tense muscle. “It wasn’t easy, I’m gonna give you that. But I knew what to look for and how to do it.”
“How? I mean, I didn’t know you could hack someone if you wanted to.”
“Well,” Charlie smiled, walking to one of the chairs. “I do have a few aces up my sleeve too. And after everything that happened, Richy, Thomas and Jessy finding the kidnapper and being so close they could’ve gotten caught, that last call from the kidnapper, I just…” Charlie sighed, burying her head in her hands. “I just needed not to be alone. And seeming as I promised you I wouldn’t go to Duskwood, I’m here. I’m sorry.”
She heard the other chair scrape the floor before she felt Jake’s hands on hers. He held them on her knees, his eyes staring at her. There were a few streaks of blue in them. “You don’t have to be sorry. I—I know it’s hard to be alone, believe me. And you’ll always be welcome by my side but Charlie… You’re putting yourself in risk by coming here.”
Charlie laughed humourleslly, pulling her hands from Jake’s and standing up. “Putting myself at risk? More than I already am? Have you seen everything that has happened since I joined the group? Richy being marked and then stabbed, Jessy getting attacked, Phil going to prison. Even you, Jake! I mean, they only found you because you were helping me, otherwise, Lilly wouldn’t even know about you and you wouldn’t have been included in the video. Did you listen to that last call the kidnapper made to me? Did you hear him saying he’s going to kill all of them and then me? How much more at risk can I be in after that?”
Jake didn’t say anything but Charlie could feel his eyes on her as she started to pace around the room. She avoided looking at him, breathing deeply to keep her emotions in check; the last thing she needed was to break down now. They still had a lot of work to do and she hadn’t heard anything from the others for hours and it was all starting to get too much. What if Jessy and Thomas were caught in the end? Did the Man Without a Face know where they live? Would he go after them like he said he would? What if the only thing she would find out would be the police calling to tell her all of them were dead? What she would do them? It would all be her fault, she would have let them all get killed and—
“Hey! Charlie! Look at me.” Jake’s hands were on her face, forcing Charlie to look into his eyes. “Breathe with me, okay? Come on. I don’t want you to pass out.”
Charlie took a deep breath, following Jake’s movements, looking into his eyes and trying to count all the different colours in them.When she finally calmed down, Jake helped her sit back on the chair, squeezing her shoulder caringly. Charlie watched as he opened the take-out bags, getting a little of each container on a plate before placing it on her hands. He then did the same with another plate and sat in front of her again, their knees touching as he stared into her eyes.
“I always find it easy to do things if I’m not hungry or even if I’m eating just because. I know it can also help with anxiety if you’re the type of person that eats when anxious, which, and I’m making an educated guess here, you are.”
She chuckled softly, looking down at the plate. “You do know how to make educated guesses. I’m guessing you like to eat while you hack into things?”
Jake shrugged, taking a bite of his food before replying, “I do. Clears my head and makes me less anxious.” Charlie nodded, trying some of the fried rice while ignoring Jake’s gaze. “Charlie, you know you can trust me, right? I know I’ve some mistakes along the way but it was never my intention to put you or any of them in danger. Whatever it is you’re feeling, I want you to know I’m here for you. You can tell me anything.”
“I know, Jake.” Charlie gave him a small smile and shrugged. “It’s just… I have never felt so powerless before, you know? I’m not the kind of person that likes to be controlled, that’s why I know how to fight, why I try to learn a little of everything to have at least some kind of knowledge if I meet someone that wants to talk or do something I’m not familiar with. But now?” Sighing, she looked back down to her food, pushing it around with her fork. “When Jessy was attacked, I couldn’t do anything but watch. The same thing with all the threatening calls and the in-site search and then with Richy—” Charlie’s voice broke and she swallowed back a sob. She felt Jake put a hand on one of her knees, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I had to hear him struggle without being able to do anything. Then I had to watch him choke on his own blood as he tried to tell me something I have no idea what it is. After he dropped the phone, I stared at it for so long, just looking at the sky, waiting, wishing for him to take the phone back, to say it was a joke.” Charlie’s eyes filled with tears and she put the plate on the table. “God, I wish this was all just a bad joke. A really, really bad joke.”
Arms closed around her shoulders and Charlie buried her face on Jake’s stomach, finally feeling the dam break. Jake only rubbed at her back, not saying anything.
“How many of them am I going to have to watch get attacked, Jake? Or killed? Jessy and Thomas barely escaped without any scratches from that house. Dan almost got killed in that accident. Even Cleo’s mom was threatened because of me. How much guilt do you think I can still take it? How much suffering can I put people through because I’m the one who’s a threat to the kidnapper?”
Jake let out a heavy sigh, hugging her tighter before letting go and kneeling in front of her. He took her face in his hands and raised her head so he could look straight into her eyes. “Charlie, I can’t answer that. Not so long ago, you asked me if I thought we had gone too far and I answered how far was too far when it came to someone’s life. You told me it was as soon as someone else was in danger and I see now that you were right. I’ve been so preoccupied with Hannah because she’s my sister and she and Lilly are my only family that I didn’t stop to think that everyone in the group mean something to you; they’re your friends, too.” Charlie nodded, feeling Jake clean a tear form her cheek. “And I should’ve seen that. I know I’m not the best at… understanding other people but I should’ve realized that everything that has happened had to have taken a toll on you just as it did when I saw Hannah getting kidnapped. Even worse because you had to experience things no one ever should have. And I’m so sorry, Charlie, I truly am.”
Charlie smiled sadly, placing a hand on Jake’s cheek. “You remember when I said I thought your eyes would look familiar to me?” He nodded, his expression changing to confusion. “This is what I meant. Even with everything that has happened, I can see everything you’ve shown me through the texts in your eyes. I can see your empathy, I can see how much you care about Hannah and finding her, and I can see your guilt too. Because you also feel it, don’t you? You feel like it’s your fault Hannah was kidnapped; because you weren’t fast enough to call to her.”
“You know,” Jake smiled, turning his head so he could kiss her palm. “You never cease to amaze me. You sometimes understand stuff in a way I can only dream of. Sometimes you know things I’d rather not have anyone know to not let them get too close but I can’t hide anything from you.”
“Well, you actually can hide things from me, for a while. I’ll just end up finding out anyway.”
“That is true. Just like you found out where I was. I’m still amazed by it, to be honest.”
“Okay, it actually wasn’t that hard either.” Jake raised an eyebrow at her and Charlie laughed, gently pushing him away so she could stand up. “I shouldn’t explain just to leave you curious about it and see what it’s like when you keep things from me. But I’m not that mean.”
Jake smiled, following her towards the kitchen. “That you really aren’t. Sarcastic, yes. Stubborn? Don’t even need to answer that. But mean? No, not really. So, how did you do it?”
“Well,” Charlie toyed with the glass in her hands. “Nym-0s is already connected to my phone, that’s why he was able to warm me of the attacks, right?” Jake hummed. “Which means it’s easier for me to actually get into your phone. And considering you weren’t expecting me to hack it, it means there are fewer protections against me. I only needed your location, which is fast to find, and here I am.”
“Who would’ve thought? Tricked by my own program.”
Charlie chuckled, placing the glass back on the sink and stepping towards Jake. “I’m happy you did or I wouldn’t have found you. And I really needed to find you.”
Jake’s expression softened and he opened his arms. Charlie didn’t hesitate before stepping into his embrace. “I think I needed you to find me too. You have no idea how many times I thought about asking where you were or for you to come to me, just so we could meet. Going through all of this alone is incredibly hard.”
She scoffed, shaking her head against his chest. “You can say that again. It’s also, like… I could’ve gone to Duskwood. I know I promised you I wouldn’t, but you wouldn’t be very surprised if I did.” Jake chuckled and hummed. “But I don’t know… I know everyone there is suffering too and would help and comfort me as much as they could, but none of them are you.”
“I know how you feel. I could’ve gone too. I mean, my two half-sisters are there and Lilly is probably suffering a lot more than I am, but it wouldn’t be the same as if I was with you. I felt a lot better talking to you by text than I would’ve if I had gone there. But now that you’re here,” Jake raised her head and Charlie could feel the ghost of his lips on hers. “I feel like I can take on the whole world and win.”
“You do know I don’t make you invincible, right?”
“Certainly feels like it.”
Charlie chuckled, shaking her head. “I feel invincible by your side too. Anyone comes our way, I’ll kick their asses.”
“I know you will.”
They stared at each other, their lips so close it was unnerving, and Charlie wasn’t sure what to do; she wanted nothing more than to just close the damn distance already, but she wasn’t sure if she could. How would Jake react if she did? Did he want it as much as her or would he panic and run away? She sure wouldn’t be able to take it if he did.
In the end, she didn’t have to do anything: Jake bent down and pressed their lips together, so softly Charlie sighed and melted against him, putting one arm around his waist and the other in his hair. Jake’s arms sneaked around her waist, pulling her even closer to him, and Charlie was sure they’d soon become, though she would never complain.
When they let go of each other, Charlie stared up at him with a smile, giddiness bubbling in her chest. Jake mirrored her smile, which only made her heart beat faster. Things weren’t okay yet and they still had a lot to do, but, like she said, as long as they were together, they were invincible and they would find a way to fix everything.
#duskwood#duskwood everbyte#everbyte studios#jake#duskwood jake#hacker boy#mc#duskwood mc#jake x mc#duskwood jake x mc#duskwood fanfiction#ep 8#spoilers ep 8#duskwood spoilers
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To Be Continued - Part 2
Summary: As an author, you had created Brian Kang for your current trilogy series to represent the ultimate man that everyone would love, along with Charli Evers - your female protagonist. What you hadn’t expected was for him to find a way out of the story and begin shaping up your world instead
Pairing: Brian Kang x female writer (ft. Park Sungjin)
Genre: writer au / romance / fantasy
Warnings: fictional characters coming to life / a bit of angst here and there / Sungjin as a cop (or does that only affect me?) >_>
Word count: 2205
Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | Epilogue
Once you stopped laughing with your panic, you did what any other logically thinking person would do and rang the police. And you waited at your front door, not touching anything within your home in case you tampered the evidence further. You were already scolding yourself for eating the food prepared for you. What if it had been poisoned? You thankfully didn’t feel any worse off with your cold, if anything, you felt loads better.
Still, the anxiety ran high within you until the two officers finished checking everything over.
“It looks like the person who did this knows you intimately,” Constable Park said with a brief frown. “We’ll run the fingerprints we’ve managed to find through our system to see if they’re in it but I’m not sure what more help we can give you, Miss L/N.”
“Thank you, Constable, I appreciate your efforts all the same.”
“You said you’re a famous author, right?”
You grimaced. “I wouldn’t say famous.”
“I’ve heard of your name before,” Officer Yoon mentioned with a sheepish grin when you glanced at him in surprise. He chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “My girlfriend reads your stories.”
“Ah. Please tell her I said thanks.”
“Could I actually get your autograph to give to her? I’d be in her best books for-”
“Dowoon!” Constable Park cut in sternly, causing the taller man to shrink back.
“I don’t mind,” you offered and headed back to your office for a pen and paper. You stopped when you noticed your favourite pen was missing. Surmising it had been moved during the police search; you reached for another pen and then wrote down a quick message for the young officer’s girlfriend before signing it.
You stopped again, staring at the message still displayed on your screen.
Your biggest fan.
Constable Park was back at your side again and you glanced up at him. “You mentioned just now about me being known and the message here…”
“Just make sure you keep the doors locked and maybe invite someone around to stay with you for the time being. As harmless as it’s all been, we do have more than one fingerprint detected today. Since you live alone and haven’t had anyone over in some time, we can confirm there was a second person in here last night. I know it’s easy to spend time being grateful to your avid followers but be careful with who you share your personal information with.”
A chill shuddered its way down your spine and you nodded hastily, taking the card the man held out. He smiled comfortingly. “If you have any other problems, Miss L/N, this is my direct line. Contact me right away, okay?”
“Thank you, Constable Park,” you replied weakly, reading the card and finding that his first name was Sungjin. You smiled when you looked back up at him. “I appreciate it.”
“Alright Dowoon, let’s head out and I’ll be in contact when we’ve checked the database,” Sungjin – Constable Park – stated and you nodded once more as you handed the autograph to his colleague. Dowoon grinned bashfully and thanked you all the way back to your front door, where you fare-welled the pair.
And promptly locked and latched the front door.
You had lived alone since your early twenties, too independent to work well with roommates. Whilst you had started out in a small, frigid apartment, you had cherished the space alone to create your fantasies into novels. You had only moved to your modest villa within the last year and adopted Binks, the only company you needed on a daily basis outside of your characters.
You weren’t recluse by any means, you just preferred your own company. Socialising was exhausting for your introverted ways, and even though you wanted to play it safe, you slumped down on the couch after the police left and groaned at how exhausting today had been so far.
“I’m sick, that’s adding to it,” you said out loud, and then caught yourself doing so, snapping back upright in your position. “I talk out loud to myself a lot, don’t I?”
Of course, your belongings didn’t reply. And Binks had gone into hiding when Sungjin and Dowoon were here, being afraid of men entirely.
Thinking over the care the stranger had given to even your cat, you decided they had to be female. It didn’t ease your mind any assigning a gender to this person. But it did help you feel as if you were getting somewhere with the mystery behind it.
“And once the police run all the necessary checks, hopefully, I’ll have more answers,” you announced, groaning when you had realised you spoke out loud again. “Oh, whatever! I don’t have to keep my thoughts locked up inside my head or spoken through my fingertips into a word document either! My house, my life!”
And with that, you got up and went back to your desk where you tried to seek out some normalcy for the rest of your day.
You checked emails before conversing with Lily who was animatedly retelling you of her reactions to the final part of the manuscript you sent her. You mentioned to her about what happened too. Lily, however, seemed to be more concerned about something you had written, after exclaiming over your safety. You watched the video screen where your editor, and probably the person who knew you the most aside from your mother, struggled with something.
You frowned. “What is it?”
“You didn’t put your usual The End at the final part for me.”
“Yes I did,” you corrected, leaning back in your chair. “You know me. I always put it at the end of every manuscript so you can’t nag me for more words. The End means I’m not adding to this story anymore!”
“You didn’t put it, Y/N,” she repeated, glancing up at you curiously through her laptop’s camera. “You put something else.”
“Look, I’ll prove it to you,” you announced with pure conviction, clicking on the word document icon on the taskbar and then stopped momentarily when you finally noticed that the story was still open. “That’s strange. I know I closed out of it last night.”
“Out of what?” she asked as you clicked on the tab and watched the document appear on the screen.
You immediately gasped. There, after the final scene of Charli and Brian, was no longer The End as Lily had announced. Instead, the words, To Be Continued had been placed there.
“I didn’t put that there,” you whispered and Lily laughed, unconvinced.
“Don’t be so dramatic, Y/N! Who else would have?”
“I sent it to you right after I finished and I swear I had The End written there.”
“Maybe your writing muse changed it on you,” she teased but you didn’t join her in the amusement. She sensed your shock and blinked a couple of times before focusing back on you. “You really didn’t do it?”
“What if they changed the whole story?!” you shrieked as you jumped to the worst conclusion, scrolling up until you found the line that Brian had spoken to Charli about waiting for an eternity for her. You relaxed a little when everything appeared to be in order. “Maybe I’ll name the third book in this series, Eternity.”
“Wow, just like that, you calmed down,” Lily observed and then nodded. “I like that.”
“I don’t know. I’m just a little sensitive.”
“You were taking medicine last night for the cold, right?” You nodded at Lily’s question and the woman smiled knowingly. “Maybe you took too much at once and hallucinated a little. Or blacked out and can’t remember much.”
“I’m changing it back to The End,” you told her, typing it as you did so. Closing the document, you smiled brightly at the video call. “I’m not adding any further words to Captivated, you hear me? You work your editing magic and I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Yes, Boss!” she cheered, waving to end the call and you powered off your laptop then, making sure to shut the lid down as well.
After finding Binks, you scooped him up in your arms, checked all the doors a final time before heading off to bed for much-needed rest.
You were still a little sick, after all.
You awoke to the sound of your phone ringing the following morning and blearily reached out to silence it. “Hello?”
“Miss L/N?” a deep voice asked and you sat up a little, blinking away your sleep. “This is Constable Park. We met yesterday regarding your intrusion issue?”
“Sungjin,” you immediately said and then gripped at your blankets at your first name slip-up. Clearly, you were still grappling with becoming alert enough for proper etiquette.
He chuckled lightly. “Yes, shall I call you Y/N?”
“If it makes the situation still work well, be my guest.”
“Well, I’m not sure how happy you’ll be to have me calling you by your name, Y/N, in a moment.”
“No?”
“The results are in and there’s no fingerprint matching that in our database. Whilst that’s bad news for us to immediately act upon it, it doesn’t diminish the fact that someone had been there either.”
Despite being under your blankets, you ran cold, wrapping your spare arm around you to try and warm yourself back up. “I see. Does this mean you can’t do anything?”
“I’m afraid so. If you find anyone suspicious in your house or lurking around the outside, don’t hesitate to call me, okay?”
“Of course, thank you, Sungjin.”
“You’re the first person I’ve been called out to that’s called me by my first name, you know.”
“Do you find me rude for doing so?”
“It’s refreshing,” he admitted and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of being something different for the man. You then bit at your lip, realising you were overreacting all because a man in uniform had stepped into your home.
Okay, so Sungjin was really handsome. And you were deprived of seeing such handsome outside of your stories. Whilst he was no Brian Kang, he would definitely make for a great love story counterpart in a new world. Perhaps he helped the main protagonist and became her protector. Or maybe –
“Y/N?” Sungjin said and you blinked rapidly out of your racing thoughts, coughing a little to cover your embarrassment. “You okay?”
“Sorry, I’m still recovering from this fever,” you admitted, fanning at your face for effect. “Did you say anything else?”
“Yeah, I just told you to keep safe, okay? I don’t need to be worrying about you needlessly, right?”
Oh, you were so going to get up right after this phone call and start typing out these ideas flashing through your mind. However, you gave a moment more to the police officer and confirmed you would call him at the first sign of trouble before ending the call.
Springing up from your bedding, you dashed into your office and perched on the edge of your chair as you opened your laptop and turned it on. You were relieved to find everything in your office in the right place as you opened a new word document and tapped furiously on your keyboard to get down all your ideas for your new police officer au story.
And when you were finally done, you leaned back in your chair and giggled. You weren’t always inspired by people who stepped into your world, but this was solid content you couldn’t ignore.
“Perhaps it’ll help me live out my Sungjin desires too,” you admitted sheepishly before glancing at your pen stand. You remembered about the missing pen and searched on top of your desk and then scooted your chair back to look on the floor. “Where did you go, favourite pen?”
Not finding it anywhere, you pouted right as your stomach grumbled. “Ah,” you said weakly, clutching your stomach in your hand. “I best feed myself and Binks. Hopefully, that pen will turn back up.”
Once you had eaten and quietened Binks’ demands for his morning affection, you got dressed and readied yourself for a trip out to the grocery store. Next, you had to write out a list of what you needed and went back into your office, sitting down at your desk and reaching for some paper.
Your attention turned to your laptop, where you found your favourite pen sitting upon it. “What the…”
And looking up at the screen, another message awaited you.
Sorry, I didn’t realise I had taken it with me after writing you the notes.
Glancing around yourself, you froze with the fear that rose within. You hadn’t heard anyone inside the house during this time. Yet, there was proof someone had come in again. You looked to the window, it was firmly shut. There was no way anyone could have gotten inside the house without walking passed you first.
You then started to shake.
Had they been in here all night long again?
Just as you went to get up and fetch your phone to ring Sungjin back, you noticed a second tab open on the document screen.
It was Captivated. And once again, the last words read, To Be Continued.
_________________
Part 3
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together [F. W.] || pt. 3
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Slytherin!reader
Part 1 || Part 2 || together MASTERLIST
Summary: Professor McGonagall has had enough of yours and Weasley’s pranks. She has an idea of how to stop it, but will it be enough?
A/N: This is the last part, yeah, we’re finally here. Thank you for everyone that like it! And I chose this gif because if you pay close attention, both twins are there dancing but most importantly, Malfoy’s there having the time of his life! So cute!
Words: 7.885
Tag List: @witchything @randomlonelytorment @themusingsofmany @stuckindilemma @samnblack
Sunday was a disaster. Firstly, because you were only able to wake up half past noon and you couldn't shake the feeling that you had lost a great deal of the day. Secondly, because of the constant headache, that wouldn't go away, no matter how much water you drank.
You woke up before than Fred, so it was up to you to wake him up. He seemed peaceful, sleeping like an angel. A bit of his hair was falling over his eyes, and you reached for that part, to take it away. He instantly woke up, although a bit slowly.
"It's me," you said, trying to calm him down. It had helped because he stopped and opened his eyes that sparkled in your direction. "Good morning."
"Good morning, y/N," he got up from the mattress — wearing the same clothes he wore last night. Just like you, he wasn't well to change himself before falling asleep. You sleep in your jeans that, although comfy, weren't your best choice to nap with them.
"Where's everyone?" Fred asked, reaching for his clothes, to get new ones. You did the same, making a self-note to clean your clothes scattered around the bag and the bed.
You looked down at your watch. "Well, probably having lunch at the Hall," he got surprised, so you continued, "Yeah, we kinda lost track of time."
"Kinda?" he giggled.
Both of you almost used all the time available to be apart to shower, because neither of you seemed awake enough to be fast. You met again at the stairs to get to the common room.
"Do I look better?" he asked, running his fingers to his wet hair.
"Definitely," you smiled before blushing, "what about me?"
"Huh..." he tried to say something, but he felt so hungry, he decided to drop it. "Never better," he decided to say, because, after all, it wasn't a lie.
A step inside the common room and all the looks followed you, but nobody said a thing. Fred found your hand and guided you to the Great Hall — like you didn't know how to get there yourself.
The house tables were practically empty already due to the time, but there were some Gryffindors, and some Hufflepuff left — all looking pretty much hangover. You were happy to see you weren't the only one.
Fred saw Lee Jordan sitting at the end of the Gryffindor's table with his twin brother, George, and headed that way.
"Good morning, dear brother. Lost track of time, I presume?" George said, giggling, but he suddenly stopped to look at you. He almost convulsed, and so did Lee, before both started to laugh aloud.
"What?" you asked, impatient, sitting down next to Fred who was already serving you.
"Night was good, huh?" Lee said before laughing again. "Pretty good."
"You mean the party? Well, yeah, I might have had one two many..." you tried to remember the night before. "Do I look that terrible?" you asked Lee and George.
They stared at you and then at Fred, like expecting him to say something, but Fred pretended he wasn't seeing them.
"y/N, huh... Have you noticed what you're wearing?" George suggested, with a tone of uncertainty. He seemed scared of your reaction.
You were whispering 'what' when you looked down at yourself. The jeans were alright, but it wasn't because of them the boys had laughed.
The jumper you had caught in the middle of the mess of clothes scattered wasn't yours, and it was pretty clear since the big letter 'F' embroidered in the middle of it remarked that the owner was, in fact, Fred Weasley.
You felted your cheeks turn red as you turned your head up, back at the boys, who were laughing. Fred ha ducked himself, scared of your punches.
"You saw this and said nothing?" you raised your voice to Fred.
"I was super hungry," he said, bending even more.
"It's your jumper!"
"Well, everybody noticed that," Lee pointed out, still laughing.
You were about to punch Fred's arm but gave up midway. It wasn't worth it, and you probably wouldn't be able to hit him the hard way you wished.
"After I eat, we're going back up for me to change," you warned, not asking for his permission. He swallowed hard and shook his head 'yes'. "Good."
The boys' giggles eventually disappeared, and, as promised, after eating, the first thing Fred did was take you back to his room so you could change for a jumper of yourself. You all spend the rest of the day in the common room, too tired to walk around.
After recovering from Saturday night, the days started passing fast. You and Fred got back to your schedule, trying to behave as well as possible to get Minerva's approvement.
Weeks got by — even a trip to Hogsmeade, in which you, Fred and George, bought a lot of things from Zonzo's since your stock seemed to be reaching its end.
Ron got closer to you and the twins — something about "not being friends with Harry anymore" to which you and the boys thought was non-sense.
Reyna assured you she didn't let you embarrass yourself at Harry's party, so you were pretty tranquil about it. She did, however, start to pull you over Fred, commenting how cute you two were and giggling every time she caught you two holding hands.
At first, even you wanted to giggle when he reached for your hand, but he didn't seem as excited as you, and the whole thing kind of lost its charm. Yeah, it was good — he had warm hands, you were glad to have around as winter got closer —, but it didn't grow. It was just it.
It was stupid to deny you were catching feelings for him. Of course, you were. He was gentle, smart, fun and rather handsome — anyone could fall for that, and apparently, you weren't the only one to do so, as Angelina seemed to talk to you and the twins more and more.
Thus, the smartest for you to do was to hide all those feelings away. Fred only saw you as the prankster girl from Slytherin anyway, more like a new member to his boys' gang, and, to be honest, that was how you were feeling lately. Lee Jordan grew closer to you — although, mostly to ask what Reyna liked — and George asked for your help when he had trouble with some lessons or had a new joke he wanted to check if it was good enough.
The jumper incident never happened again, as you forced Fred to help you clean the scattered clothes that, as you presumed, weren't only yours.
The Triwizard Tournament first task finally arrived, causing the whole school to get excited. It seemed to be the only thing the students could talk. The twins weren't any different, particularly when close to the time the first task would start, they found Charlie — one of their older brothers — amongst the people organizing everything.
"Charlie, what are you doing here?" they asked, hugging their brother.
"I came with the dragons, of course," said the red-haired boy, that much resemble the twins. However, he was a bit shorter than his brothers, and more muscular too. "Is that...?" he asked, looking at you, but Fred interrupted him.
"y/N, yeah."
Charlie offered you his hand, proving to have a firm grip. "Nice meeting you, y/N. Heard a lot about you," he said, taking a glimpse at Fred, "Mom seems to think you are the twins' salvation."
You smiled, blushing. "Well, I'm glad Mrs Weasley sees me that way."
"So, brother, wanna bet on one of the champions?" George asked, sowing a piece of paper where he and Fred were writing people's bet.
"Not, really, George."
"Oh, come on!" George followed his brother around, much to Charlie's dislike, leaving you and Fred behind.
He pointed a space in the crowd, and you both walked to the place, waiting to watch the spectacle that would come.
"Are you sure you're keeping your bet on Harry?" he asked, as you watched Cedric enter the place where a beautiful dragon awaited. "After knowing it's a dragon that awaits him?"
"Well, I have to cheer for someone. And I won't cheer for the foreigners," you said, watching Cedric use transfiguration. "I'm not with Cedric either; he seems short of luck."
Fred giggled, noticing you were right about Cedric.
The champions one by one fought their dragons, and Harry was surprisingly good considering his score tied with Krum's. You had no idea what the judges where looking for, as to give or take points, and you would probably have given a ten to everyone, due to how scary the dragons looked.
Fred noticed your discomfort when the dragons got too close to their champions, and he found that fascinating about you, but that wasn't what he said. He used your fear to provoke you; although you didn't laugh, you weren't angry.
"Come on, let's go!" said George, appearing next to the two of you. "We have to get things for the party."
You looked at Fred like you wanted to say "another party?" but he just shrugged and helped you get up.
Fred, George, Lee and you, all snuck up to the kitchen, to get as more food and beverages as possible. Fred looked at you as he held a pack of bottles with his right hand.
"Stay away from these," he advised.
"Will do, sir," you replied, smiling, holding four big bags of crisps.
You all left the kitchen just in time before the house-elves noticed, and ran to the common room, where Angelina and the other two girls that also played Quidditch were trying to decorate.
Lee left the things he brought over a table and started helping the girls — he had more sense than them at that matter.
George had managed to steal a cake, and he positioned it around the pumpkin juices, trying to make it look cool, but it did not work; the cake just looked misplaced.
When Harry arrived, followed by Hermione and Ron, the room screamed in animation. Lee even let off some Filibuster's Fireworks — that he had stolen from your stock.
The boy seemed to have made amends with Ron, and you were happy for the two of them. You, Fred and Lee walked closer to him, to ask how he was feeling.
"Blimey, that's heavy," said Lee, picking up the golden egg, which Harry had left on the table, and weighing it in his hands.
The whole room started asking for Harry Potter to open the egg in front of them, much to Hermione dismay. You felt reluctant; generally, when Hermione objected to something, she had a reason to do so.
The egg was hollow, but the most horrible noise filled the room. Fred bellowed for him to close it again and Harry slammed it shut.
"Sounded like a banshee..." opined a boy next to Ron.
Another one disagreed. "It was someone being torture! You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"
"Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal," said George, frowning. "They don't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions. I thought it sounded more like Percy singing. Maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower, Harry!"
You began to think who was that Percy when you remembered the twins mentioning him as their older annoying brother.
"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" offered Fred. Hermione looked doubtfully at the plate, and then she looked at you as if asking for help. You didn't know what to say. Fred grinned. "It's alright," he said. "I haven't done anything to them."
Hermione took a jam tart. "Did you get all this from the kitchen, Fred?"
"Yep," said Fred, grinning at her.
"How do you get in there?" she asked, innocently. You knew she was faking it.
"Easy," said Fred, "concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and —" you elbowed him, concerned with the amount of information he offered and suspicious of Hermione. "Why?" he asked, noticing your worries.
"Nothing," said Hermione quickly.
"Going to try and lead the house-elves out in a strike now, are you?" asked George, but Hermione stood in silence.
"Don't you go upsetting them and telling them they've got to take clothes and salaries!" Fred said warningly "You'll put them off their cooking!"
She said nothing more, but she looked not pleased with the twins. Fred and George started talking with one of the younger boys — Neville, you remembered his name — and you took the opportunity to chat with her.
"What are you planning, Hermione?"
"Nothing," she said, "seriously."
You noticed she used the word 'seriously' instead of her usual 'I swear' and thought she was, indeed, planning something. But if she didn't want to tell you, you weren't going to push her — it was Ron and Harry's job to take care of her, but you couldn't shake the motherly feeling you had around those kids.
That party was better than the other one, probably because it was less crowded — Reyna, for instance, didn't appear — and you hadn't drunk from the bottle Fred informed you not to.
Some students tried to sing a song for Harry's efforts, but they were terrible at it, and you and Fred couldn't stop laughing at their faces. The party ended early if compared to the other, but you didn't bother. The fun you had was enough — besides, those months around Fred had been the happiest of your life. You used to prank people because their reaction made you want to laugh, and with the joy those new friends brought to your life, you were slowly losing the desire to prank at every moment.
You started to worry, but that didn't consume your thoughts as much since soon you had fallen asleep.
December came quickly, and with it, a lot of homework. You're studying more and more, scared to miss something important. Fred thought you were crazy to start worrying so early, but you said you were not worried — just being prepared.
Snape seemed to be used to you and Fred around, and you bet he even liked the twins around you — they were much, much quieter that way. Flitwick was still over the moon, surprised with his creation, the Binding Charm, lasting for so long as you and Fred were his living examples.
You and twins use to disappear in the middle of the night to cause some trouble around; although you didn't need it anymore, it was nice having that kind of fun, anyway. The boys knew some secret passages you had never heard about, but you were glad they trusted you enough to show you.
Professor McGonagall seemed to know that you and Fred were up to no good, but she couldn't blame you for anything, because you were extra careful to leave no traces behind.
One day, she finished the class quicker because she wanted to inform you of an event that would be happening in Hogwarts — the Yule Ball. She said it would be a night to socialize and have fun, but she specified, looking straight at you and the twins that it did not mean relaxing the standards of behaviour expected.
Because of the ball, everyone seemed to be putting their names on the list to stay in Hogwarts for Christmas, and even though you had no partner yet, you felt compelled to write your name as well. You sent you mom a letter, apologizing for not coming back home to the holiday, but she showed no worries in her reply, saying she was anxious for a picture of you and your Yule Ball date. The idea of someone asking you out made you giggle.
At first, you weren't worried. You thought that asking people out wasn't going to be a thing — only a few would have a date —, but then, it seemed everyone had one but y/N.
You and Fred were sitting on one of the marble benches in the Courtyard. You told Fred you wanted to read the chapter of the transfiguration book Professor McGonagall had assigned in the daylight, but the fact was you wanted to put yourself available out there, in hopes a boy would approach you.
Your fellow Slytherins didn't even look at you; the Ravenclaws didn't even know you existed. Some Hufflepuffs looked at you, seeming to want to come and speak to you, but then they would diverge and talk to another group of girls. The Gryffindors didn't even dare come near.
Fred noticed you weren't reading the book — you were just raising and lowering your eyes every time a boy passed — and he wondered what was happening.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"What?" he had caught you by surprise. "Nothing, I'm alright."
"No, something's off — in fact, you have being weird the whole week."
You sighed. There was no point in lying to Fred; you were sharing every space now, so why not share some secrets?
"I.. don't have a date for Yule Ball," you started, diverging from his eyes, scared of his judgement. "I just thought someone would have asked me by now."
When you finally exchanged looks, he seemed offended. "What?" you asked, bothered.
"I thought you were going with me," he said, in a low voice. "That's what I've been telling everyone."
You were shocked. "We are? Going together, I mean," you replied, "I had no idea! You didn't mention it — you didn't ask me out!"
"I thought it was obvious — I mean, we are connected, how would you dance with another boy?" he raised his brows.
You wanted to giggle. "Well, makes sense," you said, smiling embarrassedly.
"Unless... you wanna go with someone else?" he half asked, half suggested.
You shook your hands, denying it. The truth was you were extra happy he was going to take you — you wanted Fred to take you. He was the best date you could dream of, you just couldn't let him know, and that was the hardest part.
He didn't even ask you, because he had no choice in the matter of taking someone else; it was pretty obvious you wouldn't have been his first choice.
"Of course I didn't wish anyone else," you said, and noticing he could interpret it wrong, you continued, "It's just you said nothing, I presumed you were taking someone else."
He laughed dryly. "And who I want to take?"
You shrugged. You had an idea: Angelina. Beautiful, Quidditch player and from the same house as him, Angelina.
You said nothing, though, scared he would disinvite you and rush to invite her.
"Well, with that established, let's go back inside? This sunlight, although bright, is far from hot," said Fred, and he was right; the Courtyard was very cold.
He offered his hand to you, and you took it, gladly. It was the first, after a very long time, that he seemed to do it not because of pure habit. His eyes followed your hands, and he squeezed it a couple of times along the way.
Inside the Gryffindor's common room, Fred messed with his brother about the fact that he was without a date yet.
"And who are you taking?" Ron asked, snapping.
"Well, isn't it obvious dear brother?" he replied, raising your hands that were tied and showing it to his brother. "Who else would I take?"
You looked at Fred, confused. The way he spoke to his brother seemed as if he did want to take you... and if that was true, could that mean that you were going as something more than friends to the Yule Ball?
You started blushing, just because of something you thought, but Hermione noticed and thought you were like that because of Fred's show off.
"Oh, look! She's blushed!"
"I'd be as well if my partner were Fred," smirked Ron.
You tried rolling your eyes but you couldn't, still embarrassed, so you ducked your head. Fred leaned in, and, taking advantage of the fact you couldn't see him, he kissed the top of your hair.
You couldn't believe it; he couldn't have kissed you, could he? Hermione giggled, the same way Reyna did when she caught you and him talking, and that was all you needed of confirmation. Yes, he had kissed the top of your head.
You felt your face going redder and redder, so you pressed it against his chest. "Take me out of here," you requested, and he took you down the stairs, to the Great Hall, where dinner was about to be served.
George was there, and so was Lee, who didn't look so happy.
"Your dear friend Reyna," he said, with a weird tone of voice, "said no to me. She said no to me!"
You smiled, that wasn't news to you, and neither was it to Fred — she had told you guys that a Hufflepuff, one year older than you all, was taking her.
"Sorry to hear, Lee," you said, serving yourself. "What about you, George?"
"Who am I taking, you mean? That's a surprise."
Fred raised his brows.
"You'll have to wait to see," George added.
"What about you?" Lee asked.
"Well, Fred's taking me, of course," you said, proudly, way proudly than you were expecting to sound. You hoped the boys didn't notice.
"Of course," George repeated, in a mocking tone.
The evening was quite alright, as had been all the others. In the next morning, you had a letter from your mom, accompanied by a big red box.
"Thanks, Aurora," you said to your owl, offering her your breakfast, but she didn't even bother and just disappeared.
"Dear y/N, I hope you already have a date! Because I have a surprise! This letter comes with your Christmas present, but do not open it if your date is around! (I presume he is because something tells me that the Weasley boy is the one taking you). I wish to hear everything about it later, do not forget one single detail! Send me pictures. With love, Mom."
Fred was distracted by his food, so you slightly opened the box, just to have a glimpse of what could be inside, and you were shocked by what you found. You closed it fast, with Ginny laughing next to you.
"It's for the Ball?" she asked.
"Yep," you answered, unable to hold in your smile, thinking about how beautiful was you mom's present — and how much it could have cost her.
On Christmas Day, the Weasleys called you and Harry to participate in their snowball fight, and you were having a lot of fun until a ball hit you so hard, you fell.
"Are you ok?" Fred asked, kneeling next to you — his eyes staring at you, desperate for you to say something.
You pressed your hand to your forehead. "Ron just caught me by surprise," you informed, getting up with his help.
He turned to his younger brother. "You are dead, Ronald, ruining the face of my date!"
He started throwing so many balls at Ron's direction that you had to intervene. You took some time to do so, though, because you were distracted with the way he called you: his date, with no hesitation or mocking tone.
At six, you pulled Fred aside. "Look, we got to go— or maybe, use of that thirty minutes free," you said.
"Why?" he asked, glancing at his brothers' fight.
"Why! I need to get properly ready to the Yule Ball, that's why," you said, thinking it should have been obvious.
"Oh, you look just fine as you are!" he said sighing.
"Well, thank you, but that's no excuse," you had blushed a little.
"But we already used fifteen minutes," he pointed out.
"So, you'll have to come with me," you said, and he rolled his eyes.
"Fine, let's go," he said, walking away, forcing you to jog to follow him. "See you later, boys."
You two got to the Gryffindor Tower, and you started casting every beauty spell you had once read about — first on your hair, a nice hairstyle, your hair was not completely loose, but it looked cute enough; secondly, your make-up that insisted in a lot of black and red lips. You took a glimpse at Fred, but he was distracted reading a book about Quidditch over his bed, where you had been sleeping almost the whole school year that had already passed.
You were sitting on the floor, with your right hand up so it could be next to his.
"Fred," you called him. "I need you to change in somewhere else."
"What? Why?"
"Because I need to change," you said, "and I want it to be a surprise."
He took a long look at you, making you blush with the way his eyes explored every single part of your face and hairstyle. "Can't get more surprise than this," he said, making you feel a shiver go through you.
"Come on, please. We have fifteen minutes," you said, after a while in silence, too embarrassed of the way he was making you feel.
He sighed and got out. You ran to your mom's box, finally opening it in peace, to have a look at the dress fully open.
You took the beautiful dress out. With a boat neck that covered just a little bit extra of the shoulders, the green fabric went over until your feet. It had a thigh-split that, as you moved your leg, revealed a red inner cloth. It also had a skinny belt around the waist, in the same colour of the inner fabric. Over the green fabric, if one paid close attention, it would be noticed that it had some red dots around it, that seemed to shine over the light.
You always knew your mom was smart, but you never thought she'd play with the colours of both yours and Fred's house. You smiled at yourself because you wanted her there to thank her.
You took the last glance at yourself, working the last details and wearing perfume.
Fred knocked on the door before opening it, giving you a chance to turn slowly around at his direction. You smiled at him while he just stood, too surprised to say a thing.
"So," you said, playing with the dress, "do you like it?"
"I love it!" he said, rushing over to you. "y/N, you are beautiful, always have been, but tonight, you are just... I'm speechless."
You felt not just your cheeks, but your whole body blush. Fred couldn't say something like that and not mean it, could him? It had to be because, perhaps deep down, he felt something for you as well. Right?
He offered you his arm instead of his hand, and you took it, happily. If the evening proceeded that way, it was about to be the best of your life.
"Shall we?"
You nodded in the affirmative, too nervous to say something. Fred headed with you to the common room, where Harry, Room and a girl were standing.
He winked at Harry as you left through the portrait hole.
"Was the dress your pick?" Fred asked as you waited for the Hall to open.
"No — actually, it was a gift from my mom," you said.
"Very smart of her," he said and added: "The colours and all."
You smiled. "My mom is still a teenager if that's possible. She has a way of thinking like a romantic highschooler. I would never have an idea of combining our colours."
The doors were finally open, and you were shocked when you noticed the girl with Krum — Hermione, in a beautiful blue dress.
The place, splendidly decored, barely looked the same. And fun was the only word you could use to describe the night. Fred made sure you were smiling the whole evening, and he made sure that every song you wanted to dance, he would dance with you.
Having him so close, breathing at your neck, was like Heaven. It couldn't get better than that.
George appeared next to you two in the middle of a dance. "Can I dance with my brother?"
You pretended to get offended, and said, "What about me?"
"Well, you dance with me, of course!" said Lee, taking your hand.
"We need to be close, still," advised Fred, and so your partners obeyed, yours and Fred's hands always touching each other by their backs.
The dance with the boys, especially watching Fred and George turn each other in the middle of the dance floor made you laugh like there was no tomorrow.
You all eventually sat down, to eat something and relax a little. George and Lee seemed ready for the next adventure and left you and Fred behind in a table.
"Well, this is definitely topping the house parties!" you exclaimed, scared of the silence that almost took over.
He giggled. "Should I be insulted since I and my brother are who organized those parties?
"You should," you said, in a mocking tone, laughing right after.
"Wanna get out of here?" he asked, and you supposed your face was all twisted because he added, "Just to breath new air."
"Sure," you agreed, taking his hand to get up. "Ouch! These heels are killing me!"
He looked down at your feet. "Take them off," he suggested.
"I would, but I'd get them dirty going outside," you said, with a sad smile.
"Take them off," he said again, this time bossier as if he was ordering.
You slowly took them off, one by one. "Well, now I don't wanna step outside."
"Who said your feet need to touch the ground?" he asked, with a smirk filled with mischief.
He then, grabbed you by your waist, holding you in his arms.
"Fred!" you bellowed, "Put me down!"
Some stares followed you as he raced outside of the Hall, but Fred didn't seem to care, not with the stares, not with your weight.
"There you go, lady," he said, sitting you at one of the benches at the Courtyard.
"Well, thank you, Fred, but there was no need," you started saying, but stopped, noticing he wasn't interested in that.
You two stared at the night sky, you weren't alone in the yard. Some couples were snuggling around the place, hiding in the shadows. It made you nervous being in a place like that Fred — it made you wonder.
"Fred," only too late you noticed you had said his name out loud.
"Yes?" he looked back at you, his eyes sparkling over the moonlight.
You breathed hard; if you began saying, there was no going back. So, you decided to take the easy way.
"Thank you for the evening. I've never been happier," you said, staring at his eyes with difficulty. "You've proved yourself a good date — although I wouldn't know what a bad one would be like."
He tilted his head, "You've never been in a date before, y/N?"
Your muscles tensed around your closed mouth, as you got embarrassed about the secret you had just told him. You looked at the boy; Fred probably had been to thousand of dates, he was the type to have girls around. But, if that was the case, he was a perfect gentleman to never talk about it, at least, not at your presence and he had been in your presence for a while now.
"Yeah, this has been the first time a guy asked me out, although, you didn't ask me, you just had to take me."
"I had to just take you?" he repeated, "y/N, what do you mean?"
You dodged his eyes. "Well, we have this damn Binding Charm all over us. I wouldn't have been surprised if you had asked McGonagall to separate us, at least for enough time for the Ball," you said, looking back at the moon. However, you weren't so sure of your words, because you thought Minerva wouldn't with you two wanting to be apart.
He giggled, dryly, as if he didn't believe what you were saying — and he didn't. How could you think so little of yourself? How could you doubt he had been wanting to take you to the Ball, to take you on a date, since the first time he had laid eyes on you?
"y/N, I would have asked you to be my date to the Yule Ball with Charm or no Charm," he said, finally, after taking a minute in silence. "The Charm made it easier if you wanna know because I always thought you would never say yes to the poor Gryffindor dumb boy."
You were forced to look back at him, and you couldn't hold in your smile. All this time, he wanted you??
"You are far a Gryffindor dumb boy, and I don't care if you're poor either — I'm far from rich myself," you said. You noticed how close your faces were now.
"Having you as my date," you continued, not moving an inch away, "was the best thing that ever happened to me."
He squeezed his eyes around the corners, holding in a smile.
"Damn, I'll forever be thankful to Minerva for binding us together," you exclaimed, laughing and he joined in.
Fred was the first to stop laughing, as he stared at you, contemplating his view. Soon your laugh died as well, and you both stared at each other as if your lives depended on it.
"Well, then you only leave me one more thing," he said.
"What?" you asked but before he moved, you already knew what was about to come.
His right hand, the free one, reached to your cheek, and brought it even closer, binding no longer just your wrists, but your lips in a breathtaking kiss.
It was calm, you two had all the time in the world, but as it intensified, more urged the kiss started to feel — and you both wanted to be closer and closer.
Your free hand rushed to his soft red hair, where not only he lost his mind to your touch, but you lost your consciousness with the sensation of his hair.
You were so intertwined, at least the maxim you could with his gala clothes and your beautiful dress. It was a good thing it had a tight-split.
You both had to stop for air and that was when Fred's eyes widened. "Run," he whispered.
You thought you couldn't have heard right. "What?"
"Run," he repeated, now louder, already getting up and catching you hand, dragging you around the Courtyard back to inside the castle, entering the Hall.
"What happened?" you asked, gasping for air, as you tried to fix your hair and dress to place.
"McGonagall. In the Courtyard. Looking for us," he said in pauses as he was breathing.
You were shocked. "Oh God, how much did she see?"
"I have no idea," he said.
You two started entering the middle of the place, trying to hide in the middle of the crowd.
"If she thinks this has been happening for a while... she'll think we sleeping together..." you started but couldn't finish, "Oh Merlin, Fred, we're screwed."
He took you to dance floor, in case Minerva showed up, you could pretend it wasn't you in the yard. Perhaps, she would believe it.
"Where were you —" George began asking but stopped after having a better look at his brother. Then, he smirked.
Lee Jordan appeared, smiling widely. "So you two... finally!"
You looked at the boys then back at Fred and saw what they had noticed — Fred's mouth was painted red, the colour of your lipstick, and his hair was a mess since you had pulled it to every direction.
Fred was confused.
Standing on tiptoe, you whispered in his ear, "My lipstick is all over your face and..." you held in a giggle, "your hair isn't helping either."
He got scared, and ran his fingers first to his hair, trying to make it better, but he failed, and then he ran his suit over his mouth, trying to clean the lipstick's mess.
He turned back down at you, "Your lipstick is all over your face as well."
You opened your eyes wide and ran your hand over your mouth, rubbing it over and over. The movement in the sensitive region reminded you of minutes ago, but you shook it off. You were still afraid of Minerva.
Lee Jordan and George's laugh brought you back to the real world.
"Look, we can leave the room to you if you'd like..."
"Oh, shut up, George," you said, but deep down you wanted to giggle. "Have you seen Reyna?"
"She disappeared with her partner practically at the same time as you two," said Lee, "I imagine what could she be doing."
You punched Lee's arm. He let a moan out and smiled, proud.
Fred was looking around the Hall and stopped when he found his target. "Minerva's coming."
That was enough to put you back at your alert state.
"Guys, we were here from the beginning, ok?" said Fred, looking at his brother.
"We never left," you added.
And then, Minerva McGonagall was standing right next to you, analysing you up and down.
"Where were you?" she didn't seem very patient.
"Right here, Professor," you answered.
"Why you have your shoes off?" she asked, looking at your feet.
"Was hard dancin' with them," you replied, hoping she would buy it.
"I feel like you are both lying to me," she said, "Are they lying to me, George?"
The other twin swallowed hard and stared at the Professor.
"I don't think so, Professor, they were dancing with me all night," he answered, for yours and Fred's relieved.
She stared at the four of you non stop before sighing. "I'll believe it, for now," and she left, leaving you and Fred to finally relax and take a deep breath.
The party went on for another two hours. Fred tried to kiss you three times in the middle of the dance floor, but you were too scared to get caught by McGonagall and receive a worse fate than detention.
When you finally went to bed, you and Fred went alone. George and Lee had found girls for themselves to finish the night with and, when arriving in the room, you noticed Kenneth wasn't there either — a shock for both of you.
"Do you think he found someone?" you asked.
Fred shrugged. "Who knows."
You two snogged a lot in the dark of the room, in privacy, with no chance of having McGonagall walking in. Somehow, the kisses only got better and better, and if you weren't so tired of dancing, you wouldn't have ended it.
Fred helped you with the dress but promised not to look when you switch it to you pyjamas. He changed to and you both kissed goodbye.
"Fred?" you called, not a minute after lying in his bed.
He muttered a 'huh' from the mattress on the floor.
"You know, it's a very cold night," you said, "and I don't have enough blankets."
"You want mine?" he asked but didn't seem to happy to have to offer it.
You sighed. Was it that hard to understand?
"No, I was thinking about something with heat within."
"Oh," he said, in a tone filled with mischief. You smiled in the dark.
You rolled to the side of the bed, expecting him to get in the covers.
"Incendio!" you heard he shout and you almost jumped out of bed, scared as Hell.
"WHAT THE FU—" but you noticed you weren't catching fire and his laughs filled the silence of the room.
He finally got in bed with you, still giggling.
"You think it was funny?" you asked angry, rolling back to his side, positioning your head over his chest.
"Very funny," he replied and you pretended to punch him.
"Yeah, yeah, try setting your girlfriend on fire again and you will sleep with snakes, Fred Weasley."
He stopped laughing.
"Girlfriend?" he sounded surprised.
You said nothing, scared of what he was thinking. Perhaps it was too soon for names, perhaps he just wanted a date, not a girlfriend.
"I like it," he said, then, for your amazement.
In the dark, you both smiled at each other.
He helped yourself to find a better position in bed and you were almost sleeping when you heard him whisper:
"y/N, my girlfriend. I love it."
***
The photographs your mom was desperate to get where all taken by George, who seemed to have liked the job. The only thing was you couldn't send you mom all of them, for respect.
With a letter describing the night — you told her you and Fred went as friends, scared she would ask McGonagall to undo the spell if she knew the truth — you sent her two of George's pictures.
The first one was you and Fred at the beginning of the Ball, standing together, smiling for the camera. Well, you smiled — Fred seemed much more focused on you then to look for the camera.
The second one was you and Fred, sitting next to a table, minutes before you took off your shoes and he took you outside. Neither of you knew he was taking pictures, so it looked rather spontaneous, as you both laughed at each other.
The third picture George had taken — the only one you didn't tell your mom about — was you and Fred, cuddling on the bed in the early morning of the day after the Yule Ball.
Minutes after the third picture was taken, you and Fred woke up to see three young faces — George, Lee and Kenneth — hovering over you. You screamed of course, but in the end, everybody was laughing.
In breakfast, nobody seemed too surprised the fact that Fred was your boyfriend.
"He's been talking about it," said Ron, looking disinterested, "for over a month."
You looked back at Fred and he started blushing.
Hermione seemed pleased. "Well, I knew something was going on when neither of you tried to undo McGonagall's spell."
Her comment caught you by surprise. "What do you mean?"
"Did you two tried Finite Incantatem?"
You and Fred exchanged looks. She smiled.
"Did it even cross your mind?"
You giggled, nervously. No, you and Fred didn't even think about undoing the spell on your own and you started to think that the reason was there all along.
"Anyway, we need you guys to keep it a secret, as we will do," Fred continued, "Because we don't want the spell to be undone now."
Lee Jordan smiled. "Sure thing, friend."
"But you know you two will give it away just by the way you look at each other," commented Ron, making you flush.
"Fred has been looking at her like that for a while now, and Professor McGonagall didn't seem to notice," countered Ginny.
Oh, Merlin, has he been so obvious that you were the last one to notice?
*** Pretending was hard. You had waited for so long to have Fred's touch all over your body that acting like you two weren't thing turned out to be more arduous than you imagined.
One thing was for sure: it was way more fun. The nights out, the hiding... — those things turned your relationship into an adventure and that was all you two liked the most.
But Professor McGonagall found out, and oh, Merlin, she was far from happy about it.
She called you two to her office and she said so many things you and Fred were already lost.
"This is not how I planned to end this," she said, "I expected to find better students, who would above it all respect the school."
You and Fred exchanged looks.
"Seems I was wrong."
"Minerva, we did become better students — ask around! Even Professor Snape has nothing to say about Fred any more, and that's saying something," you comment seemed to have got her attention.
"And we respect school! The pranks have stopped, haven't they?" Fred asked.
"Yes, because you two have been snogging around, under my nose!"
She was angry, super angry, but the more she talked, the less irritated she got.
"I'll undo the spell, of course! Can't have you two sleeping together one more day," she shouted, coming next to your wrists and starting the incantation.
You thought about telling her that, with the boys around, you and Fred couldn't do anything in the room — although, you tried. But you thought that would make her only angrier.
"Now that you are apart, I expect your grades to be perfect — I won't take less than that," she said, stepping away, "And you'll get three weeks detention each, and apart from each other, I'll make sure of it myself."
"Ok, Professor," you and Fred sighed. You started getting up to leave but she stopped you.
"Fred, could you let me talk to y/N alone, please?" she asked, and her tone seemed way more sympathetic.
Fred shook his head yes and left. You gulped, what could she possibly wanna tell you that Fred couldn't hear? Oh, Merlin, was she thinking you were pregnant?
With Fred gone, McGonagall's face changed — she was even smiling.
"And so it worked," she said.
You were confused.
"Did you think I didn't know that you two would end up dating?" she asked and laughed alone, "Look at you two, a lot of chemistry if I ever saw something like that!"
"You are not..." you couldn't believe it, "angry?"
"Professor McGonagall is deeply disappointed, is true," she started, "but Minerva and your mom are over the moon!"
You snorted, putting your hand on your forehead. What was despair turned to revolt and a bit of shame.
"My mom did all this?"
"We had a bet, you see," she told you, "When would you two be a thing. And I kinda cheated."
You opened your mouth at Minerva's direction, not believing.
"Your mom is such a sweetheart, she didn't even care", she continued telling.
"I can't believe it," you said, looking down at yourself.
McGonagall's smile was wider.
"But I still don't want you in the Gryffindor's boys dorm, you hear me?" You shook your head yes. "Now, you can go, if you please."
Fred was waiting for outside, but he was confused with your expression.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, but I just think McGonagall won a bet over us," you said, planning to explain everything to him later.
He was curious but gave in as soon as your lips reached him.
"And now, we're about to win a bet over McGonagall," you concluded, smiling at yourself, leaving with his hand in yours.
The best prankster's bet was still around and there was nothing Minerva could do to stop you and Fred of doing every single thing you could think about. And that was going to be the funniest, happiest and the best year of your lives.
#slytherin#slytherin reader#Fred and George#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley x slytherin!reader#fred weasley x you#fred weasley#Fred and George Weasley#fred weasley x slytherin reader#fred weasley fanfic#fred weasley fanfiction#hp#hp imagine#hp fanfic#harry potter#goblet of fire#triwizard tournament#triwizard au#weasley twins#george weasley#fred and george imagine
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Can’t Go Back Part 17
A/N: This chapter is pretty fluffy. We get a glimpse at how they are moving forward in their relationship since their fight. I’m planning on uploading a part from Monty’s perspective about what he’s doing Friday after school tomorrow or sometime this weekend. I hope you enjoy. Feedback is appreciated as always and much love. -Em
I spent the next week actively not checking my emails. I was too afraid to even consider if I would get emails about schools yet. It had only been a week. But you never know. In an attempt to keep my mind off of the fact that my entire future was now completely and totally out of my control, I tried to fill my time with normalcy. Things I normally did. Things that Monty and I normally did. That normalcy now included carving out an hour and a half for Monty’s physio three days a week, but we made it work.
I tried to get back into my routine. For the most part, I went to bed at the same time every night. Some days Monty went with me, other days he stayed up and did stuff for a while. But he came to bed every night. I went to the game Friday night. Scott and Charlie came over for brunch on Saturday. Justin came over to see his new best friend, I mean me, on Sunday because he picked up a shift Saturday morning. Monty and I did our own things together in the evenings during the week. I pretended to read while he played video games one night. Secretly, I was just watching him. For some reason watching people play video games was highly entertaining. We just did normal things.
We also went grocery shopping Saturday. “Are you sure you want to come with me?” I asked again.
“Yes, I’m sure Addison. Besides, we are over halfway to the store. It’s a little late to change my mind now.”
“Okay. Remember the list please.”
“I know. There’s a list and we get what’s on the list.”
“Exactly.”
At the store, I grabbed a cart and dug through my purse for the list and my pen. Monty took the cart from me without asking. I feigned an affronted look. He smirked back. Cocky bastard. I can already tell this is going to be so fun. I opened my mouth to speak when we got inside. “List, I know. And yes. I remember you’re going to make us get vegetables.”
“And you have to get at least one that you like.” He pouted. “You like carrots.” I offered.
“Fine.” He muttered. We are in a dramatic mood today. It was so peaceful when I went by myself. But I missed this. Monty went and put exactly five bulk carrots in a bag. Not wanting to fight him on carrots, I didn’t say anything. As usual, I was in charge of the rest of our vegetables.
The aisles were an easier task. There were no evil scary vegetable that I would have to force him to eat. I quickly scanned down the list as we entered each aisle. Carefully, everything was placed in the cart just so. “We need this.” Monty said, grabbing a box of cheese its.
“Is it on the list?” In response, he plucked the list and pen from my hand, and scribbled it on.
“It is now.” I rolled my eyes and grinned as he handed it back to me. His cheeky grin made me blush. I turned my back and pretended to look at something when we got to the fruit snack aisle and ignored the telltale thud of a box, make that two boxes, of fruit snacks being chucked in the cart. He didn’t write them on the list.
We both cringed at the price of meat, as usual. But we needed it so there wasn’t a whole lot we could do. I crossed things off that had been missed as we were filling the cart. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like the store was out of anything. “Oh, we need butter.” I muttered.
“Is it on the list?” Monty smirked. Like he had done earlier with the crackers, I quickly wrote it down.
“Yes.” I grinned. He grinned and stopped to kiss me on the cheek.
“I love you.”
“I love you too. Now let’s get this done so we can go home and do nothing.”
“Your wish is my command.” There was even a dramatic wave of his arm to accompany his attempt to woo.
“You are so fucking cheesy. I’m telling the guys about that one.”
“Ah, come on Addison. You love it.”
I went to grab a couple of pounds of butter and decided I could trust my adult husband to get some bread and jam on his own. When I found him in the bakery with our cart, I remembered that I married an overgrown child. There was bread. And there was jam. And also, cookies. Four different kinds of cookies. And a thing of strudel. Which, to be honest, I wasn’t that upset about because it’s like the best pastry. But the point is that it was there.
“I asked you to get bread and jam. Not half of the baked goods in the store.”
“But cookies are delicious Addison. And you like their chocolate chip cookies. And for some reason I still don’t understand, plain oatmeal cookies. Don’t even lie and say the strudel was a bad idea.”
“So, the sugar cookies and M&M ones are just to look pretty on the counter?”
“No. Those ones are for me.”
“I married a fuckin’ child.” I muttered softly. We turned when we heard a quiet chuckle behind us. A cute little old couple was watching our interaction with giant smiles.
“Mine still does the same thing dearie.” The woman said to me.
“Remember, we don’t grow up. We just get bigger.” The man smiled.
“I’m beginning to realize.” I laughed.
“See. I told you.” Monty smirked. As if to prove the point they were making, we watched as the man grabbed a container of lemon rolls and placed them in his cart. The woman gave him an exaggerated, exasperated look.
“Wait, how long have the two of you been married?” I asked when they passed us.
“Sixty-five years.” They said together, smiling fondly at each other. Wow. That’s amazing. I was still smiling when we got to the till and checked out.
Our normal routines continued for the rest of the week. School, physio, make dinner, sports, spend time together. The normalcy of it was refreshing.
“You’re scratching.” Monty said offhandedly, without looking up from his notes.
“Am not.”
“You stopped typing five minutes ago Addison.”
“I’m thinking.”
“And scratching.” I rolled my eyes and didn’t respond. I started typing aggressively loud to try and get a rise out of him instead. He didn’t respond at all. Not even an annoyed muscle twitch. We aren’t there yet. Okay. Monty’s phone buzzed on the coffee table beside me. I ignored it. It buzzed again. And then again. Before I could reach for it, he had hobble run over and snatched it out of my reach. I looked at him quizzically. He was trying to think of a reason to be hiding his phone from me. What is going on?
“It’s guy stuff. Jamie is having… girl troubles.”
“Girl troubles.”
“Yeah. His girlfriend but not girlfriend or something is doing stuff.”
“Something and stuff.”
“Yes. So, uh. I’ll be over… over there.” He motioned back to the kitchen table. “You know, dealing with girl troubles.”
“Right.” That was weird. Also, he’s going to pay for the movement in the morning. I went back to my writing and not scratching quietly. Occasionally I would look up over my laptop at Monty. He seemed to be very engrossed in his notes.
“Hey Addison?”
“Hmm?”
“Since the game got cancelled some of us are going over to Jamie’s place tomorrow after school.”
“’Kay.”
“Because girl troubles.”
“Yeah.”
“And stop scratching. You’ll only make the rash worse.”
The next morning, I skipped a shower. Cuddles were too enticing. It was a Friday so I didn’t feel like I had to look all cute. While Monty made himself a smoothie, I grabbed one of his shirts to wear because it was loose enough that it wouldn’t irritate the rash. It finally started to clear up. But now it itches. As though he could hear my thoughts, he called from the kitchen, “stop scratching.”
“Bite me.” I called back.
“If you don’t stop scratching, I will.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?” He looked up when he heard me come in the room.
“I was going to wear that today.”
“You have like… fifty more in your half of the closet.”
“I know mum is a history professor, but dad is a businessman. I know he taught you fractions. What I have is not half of the closet.” I merely shrugged. He waved towards the bowl beside the blender. “Chunky monkey with smooth peanut butter.” I sat and took a bite.
“Yum. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Don’t worry about washing the blender. I’ll do it after school.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
School was pretty boring. It was the middle of November, so we were in the awkward not quite midterms but not quite ready for a new unit time. I met Monty at my locker after the last bell. He was waiting for me with Justin and Jamie. “Hey baby.”
“Hey babe. You guys have fun tonight, okay?”
“Yes Ma’am.” Jamie saluted. I shuddered. Monty tried to stifle a laugh.
“Jamie. Do me a favour and never do that again.” I placed a couple of textbooks in my locker. “I’ll see you at home. Can you stop and grab baking powder on your way home tonight?”
“Sure.”
“Why can’t you stop? You’re going straight there.” Justin asked.
“I have a date with a bubble bath.”
“Ooh la la.” Jamie laughed.
“I guess. Didn’t shower this morning and a bath is better for my itching.”
“Oh?” Justin asked.
“I’ll explain later.” I muttered. He furrowed his brow and looked at Monty. I kissed Monty goodbye.
At home, I went to wash my face so I could do the expensive face mask I had been saving for a night alone. I did an exfoliating treatment first and ran my bath. A few scented candles were set on our master bathroom counter and I poured myself a glass of raspberry juice. The book I had been meaning to get around to reading was sitting on the toilet for easy access. Okay fine. One of the books I had been meaning to read. It was very relaxing. I had to dig in the cabinet for my body scrub but found it behind a backup pack of deodorant from Costco. Luckily, the bubble bath was also right there. I poured some in to give it time to foam.
With my face mask done and washed off, I undressed and settled in the tub. The water was boiling hot, just the way I liked it. I sighed and sipped my juice, enjoying a night alone. When the husband is away, wife will pamper. The hot water helped to calm my itching skin. The scrub made my legs nice and smooth before I shaved them and exfoliated a second time. Once the necessaries were taken care of, I could start to relax. Picking up my book, I settled in for the foreseeable future. My book was so interesting and immersive, I completely lost track of time. I was still in the tub when Monty got home. “Addison?” He called when he didn’t find me in the kitchen.
“I’m in the bath.” I called back.
“Okay.” He was opening and closing drawers in our room. He poked his head in the bathroom. “Do you want a glass of water or anything? How long have you been in there?” I paused for a moment to consider. How long had it been?
“What time is it?”
“Almost seven.” My eyes widened.
“Really? Then yeah, I’ll take a glass of water. I’m going to get out right away.” He shut the door behind him and I threw my book across to the door so it didn’t get wet when I got out of the tub.
Once dry and moisturized, I left the bathroom in search of my husband. I found him on the couch scrolling aimlessly through his phone. “I missed you.” I bent behind the back of the couch to kiss his cheek.
“I missed you too. You look very cozy in your fuzzy pyjamas.”
“Why thank you.” I curtsied. He laughed happily. Settling next to him, I laid my head in his lap.
“How was your bath?”
“Amazing. Very relaxing. Oh! And I exfoliated and shaved my legs.” I grinned and lifted my pants leg. “Feel!”
Again, Monty laughed and shook his head. He still reached out and rubbed my leg though. “Very soft and smooth.”
“How was girl problems?”
“I think they’re resolved. It wasn’t as major or as difficult as we thought.”
“That’s good.” I peeked at his phone. He was watching football injury videos. Oh Sweetie. “Hey, how’s your knee?”
“It’s okay. Physio has been helping.”
“I’m glad.” He seemed to realize then that I wasn’t just asking for an update on his progress.
“Oh. I’m just watching this because some of them are funny.”
“Funny?”
“Yeah.” He restarted the video and adjusted his position so I could see too. He was right. Some of them were pretty funny.
It was family brunch Saturday the next day. Scott, Charlie, and Justin all came over. As usual, the four young men were more than happy to eat relatively work free. Monty did have to help me reach a few things and our guests helped set the table. But for the most part, I did the work. It was relaxing for me. Monty still felt a little uncomfortable having me do most of the work in the kitchen, but I didn’t mind. It was my choice to do it. I enjoyed it. And it made things much smoother when I was working solo.
Since it was just a casual pancake breakfast this week and just the five of us, I didn’t really feel a need to shower before they came over. As such, I was still in my pyjamas most of the morning. They didn’t mind. We hung out for a while after brunch together. By the time everyone was getting ready to leave around two, I decided it was time to shower and make myself feel like a human again. “I’m running Scott’s place for a bit. We have a couple of things to go over with Charlie for next week’s game.” Monty explained when I was going to shower.
“No problem. I’ll just be here writing or reading or something.” From the bathroom I could hear him putzing around our room. I didn’t think too much of it. He was probably looking for a playbook or something.
After my shower, I wrapped my towels around me, fully prepared to throw on a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater for the rest of the day. Instead, I was puzzled to find a large white box in the centre of the bed. There was a bow and a single pink Post it note stuck to the lid. It simply said wear me on it in blue ink. I frowned in confusion but opened it anyway. Nestled inside was a classic, Hepburn-esque little black dress. I gasped and covered my mouth in shock. Gently lifting the dress out of the box I held it out at arm’s length to examine it. It was beautiful. This man is full of surprises. Not wanting to wrinkle the dress, I carefully set it on the bed while I grabbed a hanger.
Once it was hung up, I put on a pair of sweats and an old pyjama shirt. In the kitchen, I found another note next to the coffee machine. This one was on a yellow Post it, also in blue ink. No coffee. Look up. I frowned again. Why no coffee? Looking up on the underside of the cabinet, I found another yellow Post it. This one had an arrow pointing towards the living room. There, yet another Post it. This one was blue. There was another arrow pointing at the coat closet. A green Post it was stuck to the closet door. Be ready at 5:00. Wear your matching black pointy shoes. Now I was even more confused. Well, it says be ready. I shrugged and checked my watch. It was just past two. I rolled my eyes at the coffee note and made myself a cup anyway. I wouldn’t need to be up all night, but note be damned. I wanted coffee. I savoured it while I let my thoughts run wild of what could be in store for my night. At home fancy dress dinner? Going out for dinner? A walk in the financial district in the city? Hmmm. By two forty-five, I had finished my coffee and started getting ready.
I carefully put on the dress after I had washed my face again. I decided to curl my hair in tight ringlets so that when I brushed them out, they wouldn’t fall flat immediately. I let them set while I did my makeup. So, I didn’t get makeup all over my dress, I draped a towel around my neck to cover it. The simple black cat eye and blue red lipstick paired wonderfully with the classic, timeless style of the dress. A neutral blush and light bronzer added colour and balance to complete the look. I carefully brushed out the curls into nice waves framing my face. Using a decorative bobby pin, I pulled my bangs away from my face. Exiting our room after putting on my tennis bracelet-a birthday gift from my Gran a couple of years ago- I looked at the clock on the stove. It was four fifty. I had ten minutes to spare. Slipping on my heels, I went through my wallet and took out my ID and credit card. I had assumed that we would be going out and Monty usually kept my cards in his wallet.
The sound of a car pulling into our driveway pulled me from my thoughts. I opened the door when the car door shut. Monty was walking up to the house in a very familiar white dress shirt and black slacks. Damn, he cleans up good. I thought it every time he dressed up, no matter how often I saw it. His eyes widened slightly, and he stopped to take in my look. I stopped him in his tracks. I blushed and did a little twirl. He whistled through his teeth. “You look. Absolutely amazing.”
“You look incredible. Have I ever told you, you clean up really well?”
“Once or twice.” He shrugged. I smiled widely. He finished his walk up to the house and took my hands in his, really taking the time to take me in. “You really do look beautiful Addison.”
“Thank you.” I blushed again. My engagement ring sparkled in the setting sun. Monty’s black tungsten ring felt cool in my hand. Together, we walked to the car. We took my car, but I let him drive. It’s our insurance. “Are you going to tell me where we are going?”
“Nope.” He said as he pulled out of the driveway.
“Okay.” We chatted quietly on the way to our mystery location. Given the time, I assumed we were going to a restaurant. When we got closer to the county limits, I realized we were going into the city for dinner. I watched the cars speeding past us on the highway in the other direction. People were eager to be getting home from spending their days shopping or running errands.
I tried to figure out where we were going once we got to the city based on the turns Monty made. I was familiar with most of the downtown and financial districts due to visiting my dad at work when I was younger. I was a little surprised when he pulled in the parking lot for the new Italian place that opened last month. I wasn’t surprised because I was concerned about cost or anything like that. We just weren’t really fancy restaurant people very often. It was a pleasant surprise.
When he parked, we walked hand in hand to the door. He was a perfect gentleman and held the door not only for me but for the couple behind us. I smiled at him while we waited to be seated. He squeezed my hand. We were seated at a more secluded table, closer to the back of the restaurant. The table was lit by candlelight and dim recessed lighting in the aisle. It’s beautiful. Our waiter came by and introduced himself as Anthony. I ordered a cranberry juice with ice and Monty got a Coke. Anthony gave us a few minutes with the menus. As soon as I saw traditional carbonara on the menu, I had made a firm decision. Monty and I sat in comfortable silence while we perused the menu. Even though I knew what I wanted, it never hurt to look at the other options.
After we ordered-carbonara for me and lobster ravioli for Monty-Anthony left us to our evening. “This is really nice.” I said, after a sip of my juice.
“I figured we deserved nice. Or rather, you deserved nice. After everything… and I know you’ve been stressed about school. So, I figured you could use a night off.” He left the obvious tension between us and the cause for it unsaid. We both knew the reason.
“It’s still nice. And we do deserve it. This dress is beautiful by the way.”
“I thought you would like it.”
“When exactly did you acquire it?” I asked, with a sly raise of my brow.
“About yesterday…” Montgomery began, “Jamie wasn’t having girl troubles.”
“I kind of figured. Have they even decided if they have anything to have troubles over?”
“No. They’re still not together. But they go places together and buy each other things. And have sex. Apparently, there is a lot of sex.”
“But they aren’t dating.”
“No.”
“Maybe he is having girl troubles.”
“Maybe.” He chuckled. Anthony came by with our orders. Unsurprisingly, the food was delicious. Mouth wateringly delicious. My eyes widened in ecstasy. So did Monty’s after he took a bite of his own food. We each shared a bite with each other and smiled. So good. So so good.
We spent the rest of our evening talking and enjoying being with each other. It was very nice. We hadn’t gotten to do the whole going out and just being together thing in a while. I pushed the last of my carbonara around on my plate. I wasn’t bored exactly. I was having a wonderful time. “Hey. Where’d you go?” Monty reached across the table to take my hand.
“Oh. Nowhere. I was just thinking.”
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“This is really nice.” I paused.
“But…?”
“I would honestly much rather be at home in sweatpants watching the new episodes of Law & Order from the other night.”
“Me too.” He giggled. I couldn’t help but giggle along with him. He motioned to our waiter for the bill. The black holder was placed in between us. Monty placed some cash inside and set it down without so much as a glance at me. He helped me with my coat and took my hand after he put on his own. As soon as we got out of the restaurant, I stopped and turned to him.
“Race you to the car.” I grinned before taking off like a bat out of hell. I heard him bark out a laugh behind me. I didn’t look back. Nor did I turn when I heard his footsteps. He wasn’t running because of his knee. They were getting closer though. Even without running, he was able to gain on me because of his gait. Running in heels was not the easiest thing in the world but I managed to beat him to the car. When he arrived with the keys, I was grinning at him, triumphantly from the passenger’s side. “I won.”
“Yes you did.” He was grinning back at me.
When we got home, the two of us changed into our comfiest sweatpants and t-shirts. I threw on my old Tigers hoodie and popped a bag of popcorn in the microwave after taking off my makeup. Monty pulled up the recorded episodes. I couldn’t tell if he wore his grey sweats on purpose or not. We got comfortable on the couch and hit play. From the get-go this episode of SVU had both of us on the edge of our seats. The popcorn was mostly untouched. I teared up multiple times. When it was over, I ripped the remote from the coffee table and scrolled up to the new episode of Organized Crime. I couldn’t stand to wait any longer than strictly necessary. Our eyes were glued to the screen for the whole hour, minus the fast forwarding through commercials. By the end, we turned to each other in shock. “Wow.” Was all I could say about it.
“The new theme song is pretty great.”
“Yes. I don’t know how to process any other thoughts about it though.”
“Me either.”
“Very worth the wait.” Monty only nodded in response. I yawned and stretched. It was getting pretty late. The afternoon coffee I had wore off a while ago.
“Tired Bookworm?” I yawned again and nodded. Monty carried me to bed and tucked me in. I cuddled up beside him.
Before falling asleep I mumbled, “thank you for tonight. Was really nice. Ni’ night.”
#montgomery de la cruz#monty de la Cruz fanfic#monty de la cruz#monty imagine#monty x reader#montgomery de la cruz x oc#montgomery de la cruz imagine#montgomery de la cruz x reader#justin foley jensen#scott reed#Thirteen Reasons Why#13 reasons why#13rw#13 rw#Can’t Go Back#cant go back#fanfiction#fan fiction#fanfic#fanfic writing#writeblr#creative writing#feedback
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I Love You Pumpkin- A Kristanna Week “Yellow” Fic
Universe: Modern AU Rating: G (It’s just fluff y’all) Length: 2826 Words
For day 3, yellow, I went with concepts of “harvest” and “joy” to make a little pumpkin farm date AU. I threatened to write one of these a while back after going on a pumpkin farm date with my boyfriend, but didn’t finish it for Halloween. I hope y’all will enjoy it anyway!
Anna took Kristoff's hand as he helped her out of his truck. He was, as always, the most courteous man she'd ever met. It was just in his nature, she thought, to take care of others. Since they'd started dating she'd truly come to notice and appreciate just how second nature it was for him to help.
It was one of the things she loved most about him, his willingness to step up and support her. She was glad for it, because it coincided with a particular inability on his part to ever say no to her. She knew that it was silly to plan a whole day around going to a pumpkin farm meant for children without bringing any children along, and yet when she'd suggested it, he'd just smiled and nodded and let her make the arrangements appropriately.
"I'm so excited!"
She was barely able to contain her desire to bounce up and down in her seat when she spotted a little hand painted sign with the farm's name just ahead on the path leading away from the gravel parking lot. She hadn’t ever gone to a pumpkin farm, at least not that she could remember. Her family didn’t do many outings at all after Elsa got sick, and while she’d been reassured by many that she hadn’t missed out on much, she still felt that she had missed something.
Kristoff understood. He’d had all those childhood experiences that Anna craved, but he’d had them after turning eight, when his parents adopted him and strove to give him the childhood that every other normal kid had. He understood that while most people didn’t think a trip to the pumpkin farm was important, it was important to Anna. For him, she knew, that was enough a reason to take the half hour drive.
"I noticed," he teased, squeezing her hand a couple times as he swung the passenger side door shut, "You were bouncing your foot the whole way here. You only do that when you're nervous or excited and I figured my driving couldn't have been that bad, so it must just be the pumpkin farm anticipation."
Anna smirked, squeezing his hand back and rocking up onto her tiptoes to press a kiss against his cheek.
“You’re an excellent driver. I trust you completely. I don’t even grab onto the door like I do when Elsa drives.”
He grinned at the compliment and chuckled at the mention of her sister’s driving. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Elsa was a bit of a distracted driver, often too caught up in her own thoughts to notice someone in front of her braking until the last second.
She pressed close to his side as he led them toward the gravel path that led to the pumpkin farm. It was a warm afternoon for autumn, the morning had been frosty but the light breeze didn’t chill Anna in her flannel and bluejeans, nor did it seem to affect Kristoff. It carried on it the scent of popcorn and something sweet.
“I read on the website that they have a fudge house,” he said, either noticing the scent for himself or being somehow able to sense Anna’s mouth already watering, “Is that going to have to be our first stop, or?”
Anna shook her head as the many small buildings of the farm came into her view. She could see the sign posts just ahead pointing to the different attractions offered by the farm, among them being spooky displays, a haunted haywagon ride, a small family friendly corn maze, a barnyard, and of course, the pumpkin patch. Sprinkled between there were small shops selling snacks and small trinkets that Anna already knew she’d be picking up before they left.
“Of course not. They have a barnyard, we have to start there.”
She felt Kristoff bump into her side playfully and rocked her hip over to bump him in return.
“Of course, how could I be so foolish. It’s not as if you’ve ever seen a chicken or pig or goat before.”
She had, on more than one occasion, visited his family’s small farm and while there petted their livestock and most recently spent time picking apples from their orchard. She hadn’t been raised in a large city, but she had been far enough into town that she hadn’t spent much time around animals as a child. Helping her collect eggs for his mother and bringing her to see their newest goat when it was newborn were other ways he’d tried to help fill in gaps for her. They were experiences she treasured, particularly the memory of him, hand over hand, helping her to bottle feed the small kid.
“I’ll have you know sir,” she said with mock annoyance, “That they have a mini horse.”
He lifted both hands in surrender, picking up hers with his as he did so, not releasing it even as he teased her.
“Well then, that changes everything.”
***
After the time spent speaking in a baby voice to the miniature horse, Anna brought Kristoff along with her to look into each and every little display set up on the property. They tossed coins into a witch’s cauldron in return for a wish, watched as a skeleton popped out of a steamer trunk, and spent some time listening to children speaking to a giant talking pumpkin, asking her questions about her life to which she promptly replied.
“You’d be great at that job,” Kristoff mentioned as an aside as they walked away from the children.
“Being the lady on the other end of the microphone in the pumpkin?”
“Well,” Kristoff offered, “I don’t think she’s actually in the pumpkin, I assume it’s an intercom situation, but yes. You’re great with kids and you’re smart so I think you’d come up with quick answers and keep the magic for them.”
Anna felt her heart skip at the compliment, but Kristoff carried on walking them toward the fudge house like it had been nothing to say something so kind. She often wondered whether he knew how much he affected her when he said things like that, or when he casually reached for her hand, or when he kissed her, even chastely. There were days where she thought she might catch fire under the warmth and multitude of his affections, and he never acted as if it were anything more than natural.
She sometimes imagined a future where he was like that with their kids, kind and loving, doling out praise and affection easily and with little pomp and circumstance. His free way of giving affection, even when he was cranky and acting gruff was one of her favorite things about him.
“I guess I should inquire for next season then if things don’t go well with my teaching job.”
He smirked and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek quickly as they walked behind a building out of the sight of prying eyes.
“They love you there, you’re the best third grade teacher they’ve ever had. I saw the crayon drawings on your fridge to prove it. I don’t expect you’ll need the job. Unless of course, you’re planning on buying enough fudge to fill my truck, because then you might want to think about it.”
***
She didn’t buy enough fudge to fill his truck in the least, buying two large pieces, one for herself and one to give her sister if she didn’t eat it on the ride home. Kristoff had bought them both cider and doughnuts that they called an unhealthy pre-dinner snack before buying their tickets for the corn maze and hay wagon ride.
The afternoon had dimmed down and night approached nearer, and while the corn maze hadn’t been much match for them, Kristoff being able to see the exit the whole time due to the way they’d cut the corn down shorter for the kids, the hayride proved to be quite fun. As they passed by different “haunts” on the path the tractor and wagon took, they worked together to spot little secrets or decorations that made the displays even more interesting.
Kristoff had been the one to notice a lightning rod in the woods behind Frankenstien’s monster, and Anna had been the one to tell him that one of the monster masks on the trees had been painted, scuffed up, and generally repurposed from a kid’s superhero costume. A scarecrow with glowing eyes caught Anna off guard, and Kristoff had taken the opportunity to pull her closer to his side as she jumped.
While it wasn’t truly frightening, and while the air wasn’t quite cold yet, Anna had been happy to have the excuse to cuddle in close to him. Leaning her head against his shoulder as they chatted a bit more about the displays and discussed their thoughts on what pumpkin they should purchase before leaving.
***
“We have to get the ugly one Kris,” she said, purposefully giving him puppy dog eyes and sticking out her lower lip.
Of course she knew that the theatrics were unnecessary and that he would consent to any pumpkin she chose, but it was all part of the fun. She had to convince him to love the oddly shaped, warty, off kilter pumpkin as much as she did.
“No one else will pick him, and he deserves a home for Halloween. It’s like the tree in Charlie Brown. It’s not such a bad little pumpkin.”
Looking directly at her, she saw him trying to hold a stone face. His eyes betrayed too much mirth though, for any real protest to be present in his thoughts.
“Maybe,” he said with a sigh, a smile forming quickly on his lips as he cracked, “If we carve enough out of the one side, he’ll balance better. If not I’ll grab some shims and we’ll give him a support system to keep him standing up on the porch.”
She excitedly lifted the pumpkin from the ground at his approval and acted as if she didn’t watch his hands twitch as she carried the large gourd towards the checkout stand. Many others had caught her eye as they walked through the neat rows of pumpkins and squash, but this oddly shaped one had called to her. It was awkward to carry, and while Kristoff didn’t offer to take it from her as she hefted it along, she saw him in her periphery putting his hands into his pocket so as to not reach for it.
“I’ll pay the man,” he said, clearly not being ready to watch the balancing act that would ensue if Anna were to hold the pumpkin in one arm and try to riffle through her purse with the other.
She thought it might be funny to attempt it, if only to see his crabby side come out for a moment. He was never mean, of course, but he did sometimes grumble like an old man, and she often found it enjoyable to kiss the crankiness out of him.
It was a pastime of hers that she found he also enjoyed.
With the pumpkin paid for and their adventures concluded for the day, they set off for his truck once more, the sky getting darker by the minute, but still bright enough to see quite well by.
“So,” he asked as he loaded their pumpkin into the back of his truck, paying particular attention to ensuring that it would not roll despite its odd shape’s propensity to do so, “Was this the pumpkin farm experience of your dreams?”
Anna nodded, seeing the pumpkin successfully loaded, and turning to open the door to the truck.
“All that I could dream of and more,” she said, patting her purse where the remainder of her chocolate fudge, as well as her sister’s piece were located, “Thank you for coming with me. I had a great time.”
He stepped around to her side of the truck, offering her his hand as she stepped up to enter the cab, releasing it only when she was seated so that he could close the door behind her.
She watched from the passenger seat as he shoved his hands back into his pockets and walked around the truck to enter his side.
There was a bit of an odd look on his face, like he was mulling something over in the short five step walk. His hand was still in his pocket when he opened the door with the other and climbed in, swinging it shut, a bit awkwardly, with the hand that was not in the pocket.
“I’m glad you had fun… I’d like to make everyday… no, that’s not it…”
He was mumbling a bit and Anna offered him a confused look and a tilt of her head. He wasn’t usually a man who started saying something and cut himself off unless he was still thinking about what he wanted to say, or unless he was trying to say something important.
“Anna, everyday I’m with you is an adventure. I never thought that I was the type of man who wanted to wake up to a surprise everyday, but I guess it’s no surprise that I love you, and if pumpkin farm dates and ugly gourds and small animals are what you love then I guess I love those things too. If you’ll let me, I want take you on adventures, and hold your hand for as long as we can.”
He pulled his hand from his pocket, and in the quickly dimming light of the afternoon turned evening, she saw a small shining ring in his large palm.
“Anna, what I want to ask you is… will you make me the happiest man alive and do me the honor of letting me call you my wife?”
***
The ring was beautiful and unique, the stone in the center being a beautiful yellow-orange, flanked on either side by smaller stones set into leaf-like shapes. Anna could hardly breathe, let alone speak, so for a moment she simply flapped her hands in surprise as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She nodded yes quickly, and managed to choke it out as he watched her with a shy smile.
“I’m sorry this wasn’t as special as I wanted it to be, but I’ve been trying to find the right time for weeks, and I tried to take you out to dinner last week but I got called into work and I wanted to do it with your sister there so you could have her and…”
Anna leaned across the console of his truck and wrapped her arms around him, the hug not quite as full as she wanted it to be with the separation. She kissed him fully on the lips when she got him close enough, stopping his apology in the middle as she showed him exactly how perfect he’d made the proposal, and every moment of every day before it since they’d met.
They sat like that for a long while, pulling each other close and kissing and smiling and wiping away happy tears, until finally he slid the ring onto her finger and they were content to take a moment to breathe with their hands clasped atop the console.
“I was so nervous tonight,” he admitted, his thumb running along hers as he spoke.
She shot him a look of surprise, then laughed.
“You didn’t seem nervous at all. You never seem nervous when we’re alone together.”
He smiled at her in return and shook his head, “I was checking my pocket every ten seconds for the ring and then I kept wondering everytime we did something. Is it the right time? Should I propose in front of the mini-horse or on the hayride?”
She couldn’t help but snort at the idea of being proposed to in front of a miniature pony. She probably would have loved it in the moment though, given it was Kristoff proposing.
“This was perfect. Just you and me, in your car, knowing that we’ll get to show all our friends and family later but just having the moment for ourselves. It was perfect.”
“Well, just so we don’t slight anyone… we could send the mini horse a wedding invite.”
She swatted him playfully and fell back into her seat, releasing his hand so that she could put on her seat belt.
“Or we could head to your parents house now and inform them… and maybe also the goat.”
“Do you want the goat in the wedding?”
“No,” she said, mentally making note to call her sister as soon as they were on the road and have her meet them at Kristoff’s parent’s place, “But if we have it on the farm it would be rude not to invite all the residents.”
She heard his laugh, rich and joyful, before she felt his arms wrap around her again, pulling her as close as possible for another kiss.
#kristanna#kristannaweek2020#modern AU#oneshot#pumpkin farm AU#lightly proofread but we still die like men
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give a little: chapter six (college!jj maybank x oc)
MASTERLIST
pairing: jj maybank x oc
synopsis: jj takes care of charlie after a fight. he suggests they get high but it takes a turn for the worse.
warnings: weed, angst at the end, mentions of violence, drinking, swearing, explicit mentions of sex, all characters are 21+
wordcount: 2.9k
a/n: big thank you to @jiaraendgame for helping me touch up this chapter!!
_______________________________________________________________________
Charlie let out a sheepish laugh. “I, um, hit Rafe.” JJ shook his head, grinning proudly. “Punched Rafe,” he corrected. Kiara’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit.” Charlie gasped as she tried to flex her fingers, tears welling up again. JJ took her hand gently and moved it to his lap, holding the ice on it for her. “Keep it still, Charlie, you’re gonna hurt yourself more,” he admonished gently.
The other three Pogues exchanged not-so-subtle glances at JJ’s gentle nature. Charlie closed her eyes and gritted her teeth in pain, leaning her head into JJ’s shoulder. Pope broke the silence, blurting out. “So are you two a thing?” John B sighed as Kiara put her fingers to her temples, rubbing them. “Real subtle, Pope,” John B said. Charlie laughed softly, lifting her head. “I mean. We’ve been hanging out.” JJ’s face fell slightly and he shrugged, trying to brush it off. “No need to put labels on everything, Pope. Charlie, let’s go to my room, I think I have something that can help you more than the ice.” Charlie nodded and got up, following him out of the room.
While the Pogues fought among themselves and kept speculating about JJ and Charlie’s ‘relationship,’ JJ turned on some music on his phone to drown out any sound from them. Charlie stood awkwardly in the center of the room, holding her hand. JJ gestured to the bed. “Don’t act shy now, Walker, you’ve slept in my bed before,” he teased. She blushed and took a seat on the bed. “Right, sorry. So do you have ibuprofen or something…?”
JJ shook his head. “Nope, I have better.” He pulled out a small box from his dresser, along with a lighter. “You ever smoked before, Walker?” Charlie shook her head. “I don’t like cigarettes.” He laughed and sat next to her, then pulled out a joint. “Not what I meant.” Charlie wrinkled her nose slightly. “I’ve taken hits from a juul, does that count?” JJ rolled his eyes and lit the joint, then took a deep inhale. “You’ll like it. Promise.” Charlie watched as he exhaled a long trail of smoke, winding up to the ceiling.
He extended the joint between his fingers and Charlie instantly fumbled it, dropping it onto her bare leg. “Shit!” JJ reached over and grabbed it quickly, then moved the bag of frozen peas to the spot on her leg before it could leave a mark. “Watch out, Charlie, you’re gonna burn yourself!” He lit the joint again and gave it to her again, not letting go until she had a grip on it. She copied JJ, inhaling deeply, then immediately held it out away from her and started coughing. He took it back from her and rubbed her back a couple times, biting back a smirk. “Careful, rookie.”
She stuck out her tongue at him, reaching out for the joint. “Let me try again.” He held it just out of her reach. “No. Breathe first.” Charlie took a few deep breaths, watching him again as he took a hit. JJ passed the joint back, then watched her carefully. “In, slowly, wait, then out,” he coached. Charlie coughed a little again, then passed it back. “I don’t know. It feels weird, it burns.” JJ frowned, then got up and took the now-melting bag of peas from her. “I’m gonna put this away, I'll be right back.” Before he left, he grabbed a small bag from his drawer and tossed it to her. Inside were about ten gummies.
Charlie opened the bag and took a sniff, then ate two. Then another. JJ came back in just as she popped the third in her mouth and he paused. “Walker…” She glanced up. “Huh? This candy is good.” His eyes widened and he grabbed the bag away from her. “Oh, fuck. These are edibles, Charlie, how many did you eat?!” Charlie looked like she was about to cry. “...Three?” JJ’s jaw dropped. “Three?!” He exclaimed, slapping his palm to his forehead. “Is that bad?!” Charlie asked back, taken aback at his reaction. JJ just stuck his head out of the door and called out. “John B, Kie, Pope, get in here!”
At the sound, Kie got up the fastest, the other boys following close behind. “What’s wrong, JJ?” Kiara asked and JJ stepped back, letting them in the room. JJ spoke through a grimace, trying not to freak Charlie out. “Charlie accidentally ate three edibles. And she’s never been high before. So I need your help.” John B let out a low whistle. Charlie shook her head. “It’s okay, guys, I hardly feel anything.” Kie nodded slowly and sat next to Charlie on the bed. “Right. Why don’t you just lay down, Charlie? How’s the hand?”
Charlie laid back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling fan. She lifted her hand, her knuckles now swollen and her thumb a blossoming shade of purple. “It feels...floaty. From the ice, I’m sure.” Pope laughed. “Yeah. The ice, that’s all.” Charlie laid her hand back down. “JJ?”
“What, Walker?” He asked. “Am I gonna die?” She asked, looking nervous.” JJ laughed, her question easing the tension. “No one’s ever died from being high, Walker, you’re fine.” Pope shook his head. “I mean, statistically, you can’t really prove that no one has ever-” The other three Pogues shot him all a glare. “Shut up, Pope!” John B said in exasperation. Charlie waved her hand in dismissal, still staring up at the fan. “It’s okay. Tell my parents I love them. Jamie too. JJ, you can take my job at the ice cream shop. Free ice cream for all you guys, for life.”
Kiara laughed and laid back with her. “That’s nice of you. Who’s Jamie?” JJ came over and laid back on the other side of Charlie and held her free hand. “Jamie's my little brother. He’s eleven.”
“Yeah?” Kiara replied, amused.
“Yeah. He kept making fun of me and you after the other day, Maybank.” Charlie told JJ.
John B grinned. “What was the other day?”
Charlie scowled. “When JJ wouldn’t make a damn move and kiss me.”
JJ put his hand over Charlie’s mouth. “Quit talking, Walker.”
She licked his hand and he pulled it back quickly. “Gross!”
Charlie looked smug. “It’s okay to be shy, Maybank.”
Pope laughed and JJ bit back a snarky reply, rolling his eyes.
“I’m not getting you high again if you’re gonna be so loose-lipped,” he grumbled. “You know what, you guys can leave, I got this handled.”
“No!” Charlie insisted, sitting up and putting pressure on her hand. She gasped and JJ took it from her, kissing her knuckles gently. “I like your friends,” she sniffled, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. “My friends are annoying,” JJ replied, shaking his head. Kiara laughed. “Don’t listen to him, he loves us.” Pope looked at Charlie, curious. “So..how did this fight start anyway?” Charlie wrinkled her nose. “He was being rude to JJ, and then JJ was prob’ly gonna hit him and I didn’t want to cause a scene at the country club. But...then he spit in my face, on accident maybe? So I hit him. I didn’t mean to.”
“Hold on, he spit in your face?” John B asked incredulously.
JJ nodded in confirmation. “It wasn’t an accident. I think he meant to spit in mine but I stepped back and she stepped forward. Either way, I’m gonna murder him next time I see him.”
Charlie frowned. “No, I hate fighting, don’t do that. He’s not a bad person, he’s just done bad things.”
Kiara looked at her skeptically. “...Which makes him a bad person. Don’t defend him, Charlie.”
Charlie shrugged and looked down at her lap. “Habit, I guess.”
JJ put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “Does your hand feel any better? It’s been a while...the edibles will probably kick in soon.”
Charlie let out a dramatic sigh, as if the thought had just re-occurred to her. She stared at her hand, watching the growing purple bruise swirl with the gold of her rings before her eyes. JJ reached out and waved his hand gently in front of her. “Hello? Earth to Charlie?” It sounded like there was radio static in her ears. She flinched. “Huh?” He laughed and tilted her chin up with a finger. “You feeling it, Walker?” Charlie frowned. “Feeling what? What am I supposed to be feeling?” JJ grimaced. “I was worried about this. Why don’t we go for a walk, okay?”
Charlie looked down at her feet, like it took all the concentration in the world, and tried lifting her leg. She looked anxiously toward JJ. “I think I’m concreted in.” Kiara laughed a little before standing up, offering her hand. “Let’s get up, Charlie, go walk with JJ. You’ll feel better.”
It took JJ, John B, and Pope all tugging at Charlie - carefully, because of her hand - to convince her that her legs and arms weren’t actually cemented onto the bed. JJ finally got her outside and the two walked at a snail’s pace, Charlie leaning into JJ. They only made it to the hammock before JJ had enough and settled her in, gently cuddling in next to her. “Do you think my thumb is really broken?” Charlie asked, then squeezed her thumb. It was getting more swollen by the minute, and her touch made tears spring to her eyes. “Probably just sprained, Walker, but don’t touch it.” He shifted so she could lay her head back on his chest. Charlie frowned, tears leaking from her eyes. “I don’t wanna go to jail, JJ!”
JJ laughed, playing with her hair. “Why are you gonna go to jail, pretty girl?” Charlie sighed. “Because this is very illegal and they’re going to find out. The po...the police. And then I’m never gonna be able to scoop ice cream again, because my thumb is gonna fall off, and I’ll be doomed to a life of no ice cream.” JJ grinned. “No one’s going to find out, pretty girl, I won’t tell them. Our secret. But I’ll sneak you ice cream if you go to jail.”
Charlie turned to look up at JJ. “They’re going to send me to jail for punching Rafe. I don’t know why I did it. I got scared.”
“Well if you didn’t hit him, I certainly would have taken care of him for you...wait, what?” JJ’s brow furrowed and he paused, his hand threaded through her hair. “You’re scared of him?”
Charlie nodded. “He yelled a lot when we dated. And he would fight people all the time. He’s scary.” She looked back out at the Chateau, a small frown on her face. “JJ, I don’t like being high.”
JJ wrapped both arms around her, resting his chin on top of her head. She ran a finger down the veins on his forearm. “I won’t make you do it again. You also did it wrong...but we’ll worry about that later.” He paused. “He never hit you. Right?”
Charlie hesitated before answering. “No. He didn’t. He’s just scary.”
JJ nodded, unconvinced. “Okay. Let’s take a nap, Charlie, you’ll feel better soon.”
_______________________________________________________________________
After a long nap with JJ in the hammock, Charlie came down from her high. She was convinced she reeked of weed (she didn’t, the joint was only out for five minutes before she had the edibles), so he dropped her off at Grace’s house so she could spend the night without worrying. JJ pulled up to Grace’s house and checked her hand for her, concerned. “You need to ice that again. And maybe get a splint if you can find one.” Charlie nodded. “Thanks for helping me.”
“Anytime, Walker.” JJ said, then leaned in to kiss her cheek. Charlie turned her head and caught his lips with hers at the last moment, leaning across the center console. JJ brought his hand up to the back of her head, pulling her in closer. The two kept kissing until he bumped his knee on the steering wheel, setting off the horn, and they jumped apart.
He looked up to see Grace standing on her front porch, arms crossed. He gave her a sheepish wave, ducking his head. “You should probably go..” Charlie blushed and bit her lip. “I’m going to be in trouble with her.” JJ kept his eyes trained on her lips and reached over and brushed his thumb across them. “Don’t bite your lip like that.” Charlie smirked and lowered her voice. “Why, you like it?” He groaned, shifting in his seat. “Get out, Walker.” She laughed and got out, but turned and blew him a kiss before shutting the door. He watched her until she disappeared into Grace’s house, then let his head fall back against the headrest. “God damn,” he murmured to himself, then drove away.
The smile left Charlie’s face the second Grace grabbed her hand inside the house. Charlie gasped, yanking her hand away. “Shit, Grace, careful!” Grace frowned. “What the hell happened?!” Charlie hesitated. “Surfing accident.” Grace crossed her arms. “Bullshit, Charlie, don’t lie to me. Your hair is dry and you’re wearing a dress.”
Charlie sighed and went up to Grace’s room, shut the door, then turned to her friend and explained the whole story. Including the fake boyfriend plan. Grace had a skeptical look on her face the entire time. “You really expect to pull this off with JJ and then to go back to school, no sweat off your back?” Charlie shrugged. “Well, yeah, why not? He’s down.” Grace rolled her eyes. “And you can tell me seriously there’s no feelings involved? After you just made out with him in my driveway?” Charlie paused, and Grace pointed her finger accusingly. “Break it off.”
Charlie frowned. “Look, you should have seen him this afternoon, he wouldn’t leave my side.”
Grace threw her hands up in exasperation. “Yeah, because he probably felt guilty because it’s his fault your hand is fucked up!”
“It’s not his fault!” Charlie exclaimed. Her phone, sitting on the bed, lit up, three texts from JJ displayed on her screen.
Grace grabbed it before Charlie could and scanned the flirty messages, shaking her head. “You’re gonna get hurt and I’m not going to feel sorry for you. I warned you about him, Charlie.”
Charlie shook her head insistently. “I swear, he’s not like that. Just let me play out this thing with Rafe and then we’ll go back to ignoring each other at school.” Grace raised her eyebrows. “He doesn’t ignore you.” Charlie paused. “What do you mean?”
Grace sighed. “For god’s sake, you’re oblivious. That boy glances at you at every damn party like he’s checking to make sure no one touches you. Do you not remember, freshman year, he brought you back to the dorms when you were blacked out for the first time?” Charlie tilted her head, brows furrowing. “I...no. I just remember drinking at Beta then waking up in my dorm bed.” Grace nodded. “I don’t know why. But after that he’s always been around. You don’t even see half the guys he redirects away from flirting with you.” Charlie crossed her arms. “Oh. Huh. So why are you so against this?”
Grace gave her friend a look, softening her tone. “Because I see that you’re falling, and I’m not letting you start senior year with a broken heart. You let people in too easily.”
Charlie stood, grabbing her phone and her purse. “Maybe if you actually let people in, you wouldn’t have to complain about getting fucked over after only having one-night stands.” She retorted.
Grace’s face turned to stone. “Get out,” she spat angrily.
Charlie immediately looked regretful. “Grace, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it -”
Grace cut her off. “I know. But I don’t want to look at you right now. Go sleep in the guest room.”
Charlie let out a small sigh of relief and left, retreating to the guest room. She texted JJ.
Charlie: did you help me freshman year?
JJ: What do you mean
Charlie: when I blacked out
JJ: Yes, I got you back to Columbia Hall and then stayed up with you while you threw up like half your stomach
JJ: Why
Charlie: no reason just curious
Charlie: we should have a third rule
JJ: What’s the third rule
Charlie: we end this before going back to school
Three dots popped up instantly, like JJ was typing, then disappeared. Then reappeared. Then disappeared and reappeared again. After an agonizing twenty minutes later, he responded.
JJ: Fine
She set her phone down and lied back on the bed, staring at the ceiling as she thought. A couple hours later, she knocked gently on Grace’s door and let herself in. Grace raised her eyebrows, arms crossed. “You here to apologize?” Charlie frowned. “I’m really sorry Grace, I shouldn’t have said that. You’re right.” Grace nodded. “About?”
Charlie relented. “About JJ. It’s probably not going to end well.” Grace sighed and patted the bed next to her. “Yeah. But I think the plan’s probably effective to piss Rafe off. Just keep him at an arm’s distance and keep your damn feelings out of it, and then end it before the summer ends.” Charlie quirked her eyebrow. “You think I can do that?” Grace shrugged. “Probably not. But I’ll keep you in check. No feelings.” Charlie nodded slowly as she thought about it. “No feelings,” she repeated. “Easy.”
TAGLIST: @booksandshish @jiaraendgame @hmsjiara @outerbanksbro @alexa-playafricabytoto @annedub @casper17
#outer banks fanfic#outer banks fanfiction#jj outer banks#college outer banks#outer banks#frat boy jj#frat jj#jj maybank#jj x reader#jj maybank obx#jj maybank fanfiction#college!obx#college!jj#obx x reader#obx fanfic#obx fanfiction#college jj#mine#jj x charlie
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Blood Doilies; Part Three
A/N: Warnings for mentions of abuse and abusive relationships. Please read at your own discretion. The next chapter will also have the same warning. I understand that such topics can be triggering to some people, this is pure to show what the Female Reader has experienced in married life and her breaking away from that with the aid of the Blinders. Once more thank you for taking the time to read this story, feel free to reblog or comment if you’re enjoying this.
Taglist: @zodiyack , @itsfrancisneptun , @shelbys-we-get-the-job-done, @amy-booxx & @fandom-fucking-shit
Parts: [ 1 ] , [ 2 ], [ 4 ], [ 5 ], [ 6 ], [ 7 ], [ 8 ], [ 9 ]
Pairing: Thomas Shelby X Female Reader
Word Count: 1923
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You set the tea down on the coffee table noticing the children had both fallen asleep on Mister Shelby’s knee. Offering a smile at the sleeping children. Whispering softly that you could take the children to bed, Thomas simply rose to his footing. Carrying both the children upstairs, calmly following him. Showing the beds for each child. Annabeth curled up into a ball with her little dolly looking absolutely smitten and at peace. Leaning down you kissed the little girl’s head, smoothing the messy mop of hair away from her face. Pulling the blankets up to her shoulders, brushing the back of your knuckle lovingly over her cheek.
Repeating the same action for Marcus, knowing that he’d need another feeding in a few hours time. “You’re a good mother, you do so much for your children,” Thomas said observantly from the door watching on with silent awe. Aunt Pol had always warmed someplace in his heart at her mothering but it had been a time since all the Shebly children had ground. Now the mothering seemed like a nagging.
Maybe it was the war that changed him but watching you at that moment. He didn’t see the harshness of his own upbringing. But the solid foundations of nurturing and admiration. Tommy didn’t quite remember the loving gaze of his mother, only her death. It had been the first of many lives that were lost. Charlie Strong had been the replacement when his father walked out of them and Pol took the helm of mothering. Swift in her workings and proved very stern for the young Sheblys’ that were left like orphans before she swooped in.
However, you were a different case. There was something about your maternal instincts that caused Thomas to stop a moment. Admire the qualities of a woman. The way in your wounds and bruises from an abusive husband, no matter the pain. You carried on your task of being a mother never let anything go to chance or mess with you. Easily smoothing a hand over baby Marcus’s locks whose were just like your own. Beautifully soft with a slight wave in the front. Tucking your son in, you watched him for a moment listening to his breathing, the little snores that left his buzzing button nose.
Thomas and yourself wandered back downstairs to the tea. Looking at each other for a moment. The narrow stairs led to you brushing hands in the walk. Causing you steps to falter for one moment. However, the Blinder once more found his seat again. Marking the page he had been reading to the children as if he’d continue that story for them another time. Picking up his teacup, he added some cream and one sugar. Stirring with the provided teaspoon then offering the spoon to you. Carefully, you poured the creamer not adding any sugar. Enjoying the strength of the tea. Lips slightly pursed together, glancing back to Thomas Shelby again. “Thank you for offering my family this safe house for the time until we get our lives back on track,” you said with a warm blush on your cheeks.
“It is alright, Mrs [Y/N],” Thomas said in a swift and noble tone of voice. Leaning back into his chair observing you. “The Peaky Blinders don’t take kindly to men who bash into their women and children.” Thomas’s words sparked a cool murderous rage in him. His eyes were like a cool fire, burning hotter than any red flame you’d seen in your lifetime. Glancing down at the marks that riddled your body and all that was hidden under your clothes. You hadn’t remembered a day where things weren’t thrown or fists were flying. Once upon a time, it was a social norm for a husband to beat his wife.
“I’ve had it happen all my life, my father was a drunk and my mother a prostitute. I don’t really know any better…” You admitted in a defeated manner. Clenching your fists on your legs thinking about the life you led. “But, I want this cycle to end. Because if I let this keep happening, it’ll only happen to my children and they won’t know how to respect each other or their future loved ones.” Deep down you knew this was the right thing, the sudden separation to make sure no more harm would come to yourself or the children if your husband overstepped his normal range of violence.
“Do you need my help in any way of separating from the man, because once you're divorced of him that debt owed is only on him. I don’t believe in wives cleaning up their husband’s debts when they have a family to protect. By those marks too, I’d believe you’ve been looking over them for some time too.” Mister Shelby said, reaching into his coat pocket, procuring a silver cigarette case. Opening it and offering you one with a slight incline of his arm. Reaching out you picked up one of the expensive tailor-made, always used to the harsh rolling without a filter.
Placing the stick of nicotine in between your lips, that were chapped and broken from a hit. Picking up a matchbook from the table lighting up your cigarette, then leaning out to light Thomas’s. He leant into the flame. The small light of the match burning embers of life at the end of the neatly rolled tobacco. Watching the embers eat at the paper when Tommy puffed. The flame licking at your fingertips were lighting the sharper features of the Shelby before you, causing a feeling of enchantment to pull over you.
Tingling burns at your fingertips, causing you to finally shake the match and drop it into the ashtray. Settling back into your seat letting out a calm inhale and sighing softly. The sitting room clouded with an illusion-like smoke cloud. Giving a new atmosphere to the room. Like it wasn’t heavy in the topics of conversation. The stress had been disbursed in to the air, exhaled with the carbon-dioxide and smoke through lips and nostrils.
“I need to find a way to get divorced from him, I know it’d help my case that we’re living separately from one another. It would be a year’s process at the longest, I’d need to find a way to keep the tea house. My own business… I don’t want to lose it to him. Need some form of income to keep a roof over the wee ones’ heads.” You muttered, flicking the ash into the crystal tray on the table. Wondering in all seriousness how much it cost to buy because it was impeccable. Everything in the Watery Lane home was beautifully charming and way out of your price range.
“I’m hoping to get settled then go back to work, have a friend lookout for the kids.” You said to the man, who seemed to offer a small nod. Knowing the modest little establishment in your ownership. By far considered the loveliest tea shop in Small Heath, it had charm and class to the small little shop. He’d remembered Ada gushing over it opening some years ago, by a beautiful young woman that had the dream to do so. Through the proper means, she opened the shop by herself. Even without her husband’s help. This seemed like an even biggest motivator for Tommy’s little sister feminist ideals.
“Given your current condition, I’d recommend your healing before heading back to work. Keeping a low-profile due to your husband’s likely retaliation to your left with the children. For your safety, I’d advise you take a week at the least, then return to work. I or one of the Blinders will be there to escort you home after.” Thomas took a swift to inhale of his cigarette. He didn’t know why he was so adamant to protect you. Normally the Blinders would help get rid of the trouble and then recoil. Yet, deep down he knew it's because he’d seen what the government and church would do if they caught wind of things happening.
You’d lose your children. Thomas didn’t want to see that happen, because you’d taken responsibility for your husband’s debt and tried to clear it up. Even in such a state that you were in. Trying to protect the little family you’d been in. Keeping those well-behaved children in line, working the long hours that he found out on an investigation prior. Where your morning shift could start as early as four-five o’clock in the morning for the baked goods. Then until closing hours in the evening. A short break in between to take your children home, giving the neighbour a break.
Only to have most of the money earnt wasted on your husband’s addictions and there were plenty of them. Never in a million years did he even expect anyone at that meeting today. But, there you were to shock him. Taking time out of your day, to see him and try to make things right. Surprisingly, it gave Tommy a little bit of hope for some of the women in this day and age. So, the patriarch of the Shelby family sat there and discussed with you into the long hours of the night. Things were arranged for your meeting with a solicitor under the guidance of Polly Gray. Moral support. Plus, everyone seemed to be as scared of her as they were with Tommy. Bonus.
***********
The following days passed quickly with everything being prepared. Marks began to fade on your skin and it restored some of your lacking confidence. You felt happier in the safe house. Not because of the fancy layout because your children were happy, they were settling in nicely. The Shelbys’ came to visit enough. John Shelby bought over his children someday and they all played while business and things were attended to. More often than not it meant walking in on the children all snuggled up on each other and napping; after having an argument or fight. Everything was sorted with a simple nap together, then they were as good as rain. It made you often wish that adults were as simple as children.
By the following Monday, you were returning to work. Your workers had been running the ship well and left things in perfect condition. It was nice to see the faces of the customers again. Hours were long like normal, but that’s how you enjoyed working. Things were peaceful and you didn’t feel an ounce of stress because Thomas had promised to come to pick you up after work and walk you home. It was safe… Well, that’s what you thought.
Hours passed by swiftly and you finished the till counting after hours in the office. The last thing was to do the bins. When you were collecting the bins. Wandering in the dark alley, tossing things into the larger bins outside for landfill. You were so focused on your task that the sound of someone sneaking up on you escaped your knowledge. A rough hand, the smell of hard liquor and cigars filled your nostrils. You knew that scent from anywhere. Your husband.
He holds a hold on you, smothering your screams of utter terror and pinning your body against the firmness of his body. “It’s not nice to say goodbye in a letter,” he whispered in your ear with vile intent. Holding out in front of you, the wedding band you letter on the letter. Forcefully sliding it back onto your finger as tears fell.
#by order of the peaky blinders#peaky fookin blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinder headcanon#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinders imagines#peaky blinder fanfiction#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fandom#peaky blinder x reader#peaky blinder x reader story#thomas shelby x reader story#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby#thomas shelby imagine#paired with tommy shelby#thomas shelby fanfiction#tommy shelby#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby x reader#reader x canon#polly gray#john shelby#drama#cliff hanger#part 3#oh-theres-a-woman
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Charlie Barber Imagine - Strong
Charlie Barber X Reader
1.9K
The number of times you had been strong for Charlie through it all were innumerable. When he first received the news that Nicole was leaving him, he called you while he processed it. You were on standby on days that he wasted in court, arguing over where was best for Henry, waiting for him with open arms and a listening ear. When they finally settled on bringing Henry to California, you supported Charlie every step of the way, even if it meant fewer nights spent with him. You did all of this because you loved him.
Your love even extended as far as keeping your feelings concealed sometimes, for his peace of mind. He couldn’t know that it was eating away at you - watching him struggle with losing his control on the situation, watching the countless tears he shed. You’d leave your own tears for your pillow, when Charlie wasn’t around to witness it, even if it meant biting them back until well after midnight.
That’s exactly what you did. He had been over for the evening after a particularly taxing day of arguing with lawyers. Charlie didn’t even bother to head back to his house, it didn’t really feel like a home anymore - not really. Instead he found himself driving over to your house which was only a few blocks away. When he showed up at your door, eyes rimmed red from crying and a forlorn expression pulling at his features, you pulled him into your embrace and shut the door behind him, effectively securing the two of you alone.
As soon as the door clicked shut he allowed himself to decompress once again. You graciously took in all of his worries as you fixed two cups of tea, feeling the weight of the situation. Eventually the sniffles subsided and you made dinner for the two of you, and finished with a movie. He left with a sigh, leaving you to your own devices and the ability to mull over your own feelings.
The first thing you did was shut off the lamp on the bedside table, allowing yourself to settle in the dark. You had half a mind to pick yourself up and head to the bedroom but it was easier to sink into the couch cushions, to curl up in a ball and just allow the tears to slide down your cheeks. So you did. You allowed the warm tears to finally spill over the brim of your lashes, where they had been waiting for the better part of the hour. The ghost of Charlie’s cries echoed in your memory, haunting each and every free space.
You cried for Charlie, who wanted so desperately to give both Henry and you a perfect life filled with everything good the world had to offer. You cried for Henry, whose mother up and left the family, leaving it shambles in her wake. You cried for yourself, who so desperately wanted to give Charlie the stability he needs, who desperately wanted to prove to him he is worthy of love, and to rid him of all his anxieties.
Before you knew it, you were sobbing, your body retracting into itself as you hiccuped through your cries. It was cathartic and painful all at once, but anything felt better than keeping it in. Your hands trembled as they reached up to swipe away some of the dew that had collected on your cheeks. It was a pathetic sight in your opinion, and you were thanking your lucky stars Charlie wasn’t here to see you like this, it would break his heart.
As fast as you were thanking that he wasn’t here, you were being jolted out of a hysterical haze. Your sobs halted at the sound of your name from that all too familiar voice. Charlie was kneeling on the ground beside you with outstretched hands firmly pressing into your arms to try and pull you back to reality. His form came into view behind the well of tears, the pained concern that contorted his face was enough for your body to attempt to pull away - but he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Y/n, babe, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He questioned, eyes scanning over your form in search of any ailment. When he found none at first glance he moved in closer and took your face into his strong hands. “Y/n, breathe.”
“Breathe.” He whispered into your hair, helping you control your sobs down to soft hiccups. You focused on trying to blow out even breathes which waivered at first as you reached out to hold onto his forearm for support, the contact a reminder that you weren’t in this alone.
Once your breathing evened out into steady, long breathes, Charlie rose from his spot on the ground and scooped your body into his arms and settled atop the couch with you in his lap. One hand splayed across your back, spreading smooth circles into your shirt while the other held your head against his chest. It was a trick he found worked when Henry was worked up as toddler, but worked equally well for instances like this.
Charlie patiently waited in silence, holding back the many questions that were swirling in his mind. Only when he felt your body relax into his did he even consider moving. At some point Charlie had flipped on the lamp again, which allowed him to see how pale and small you looked curled against him. Brows furrowed, speculating what could have set you off like this. A defeated sigh passed your lips as you nuzzle into his neck, accepting that you would have to reveal just how much you were struggling with it all.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, not wanting to push too much. Charlie wasn’t used to this, seeing the woman he cared about cry. Nicole seemed physically incapable of crying, even when her job depended on it, let alone actually showing any real kind of sadness.
“I just,” You blew out a breath to compose yourself, “It’s not fair Charlie. I see you hurting and there isn’t anything I can do about it. This divorce is throwing you through the ringer - and Henry. Little Henry. Neither of you deserve this. I wish I could take away all of the pain, I would I swear, just to see you smile. But I can’t, and it’s not fair to you.”
“Y/n, where is all of this coming from?” He asks.
“Every time you walk through that door, I can see what it’s doing to you. I try my best to stay strong, for you, because you don’t deserve that either. I allow myself to grieve when you are gone.” Your words are soft and quiet against his skin as you try to bury yourself further into him.
“Oh princess.” He breathes, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. He wasn’t quite sure what to say but he knew the thought of you huddled up night after night crying alone made him physically ill. “Why would you hide that?”
“I didn’t want you to worry about me. You have so much hanging on your shoulders, I didn’t need to throw my burden on you as well - I just couldn’t.”
He wanted to cry, but for an entirely different reason than what the majority of his tears were from. “But I can’t have you hiding your feelings from me. We are in this together. It doesn’t matter if I have the entire world on my shoulders, it’s still my responsibility to take care of you - physically and mentally.” His lips found their way to your temple, pressing a chaste kiss to reassure you of his presence.
“I’m sorry-” you started, pulling away from his chest so that you could look him in the eye. He didn’t want apologies though, he just wanted to know that you were going to be okay.
“Shh, it’s alright. How about we get you to bed, hm?”
Sheepishly, you nodded and decided to give in to the drowsy feeling that was cast over your body. Moving seemed like an impossible feat at the moment, and if it weren’t for Charlie being right there you probably would have just nodded off on the couch knowing how bad it was for your back.
Fortunately for you though, he was there, and more than capable of transferring you over a few rooms. Like a little child, he scooped you up once again this time supporting your legs with one arm and whisked you away to somewhere more comfortable. It was his turn to be strong, and was he more than happy to do so, making up for all the times you had pushed through whatever you were feeling in order to focus on him.
Charlie set you down on the edge of the bed before turning over to your dresser to find something more comfortable. A fond smile formed at the sight of the various shirts of his you had neatly folded, interspersed amongst your own clothes. Ever since the moment you had started seeing each other you had started a collection of his clothing that you loved to steal. When you stayed at his house, you occasionally slipped on one of his button downs in the morning. After you showered at his place you’d steal one of his t-shirts to wear with a pair of jeans which would wind up at your place later on. He fished one out from the pile and brought it over to you, helping you peel out of today’s clothes and pulled the cotton fabric over your body.
He marveled at how adorable you looked sitting there in his shirt. You were significantly smaller than him, causing the fabric that would sit comfortably over his broad shoulders to bunch around yours, and drape down to your mid thigh. He could sit and look at you all night, truthfully. But he knew that the best thing for you was to lay down and rest your head. Still beside you, he managed to help you settle underneath the covers, bringing the blanket up just under your chin - the way he knew you liked it.
“What are you doing?” You rolled over under the covers, watching as he toed off his shoes and placed them along the wall.
“You didn’t think I was going to let you sleep alone tonight, did you? Not after that.” He shook his head, pulling off his shirt.
“What about Henry?”
“He’s over at a friend’s house. So I’m all yours.”
After stripping down to his boxers, he peeled back the opposite corner of the duvet and slipped underneath, pressing his body as close to yours as he could. He outstretched one arm, making room for you to snuggle in against him, the other curling around your waist and pressing you into his side.
“What made you come back?” You ask, nuzzling into his chest, your finger meandering a lazy pattern into his skin.
“I forgot my phone on your coffee table.” He answered simply.
It was something so small as forgetting a phone that would ultimately bring you even closer to Charlie - if that was even possible. Because of a small mistake you didn’t have to spend the night alone, allowing your tears to lull you to sleep, only to wake up to swollen eyes and an empty bed. Now you’d have him to wake to.
#charlie barber#charlie barber x reader#charlie barber imagine#reader insert#fluff#charlie#marriage story imagine#fandom#requests open
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Watch Me Burn (P.6)
Title: Watch Me Burn (Part Six) Summary: Fem!Reader x AU!Cas. Fem!Reader x AU!Sam. This fic was inspired by both parts of “Love the Way You Lie” by Eminem & Rihanna. Castiel and the reader are toxic for each other and keep falling back together until the reader moved away. It’s been years and now she is back home, waltzing back into Castiel’s life. She is determined to do better this time, to make them work, but outside forces as well as the scars the two have left on each other weave their way into their reconciliation. Will they be able to overcome the past and new threats to their sustainability? Words: 2,111 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Extreme angst, domestic violence, smut, unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, BDSM trust breaking, fluff, language, alcohol abuse, !!! eventual !!! happiness Author’s Note: Italics are the past!
Chap 5 || Chap 7 || Fanfic masterpost || Masterpost (mobile)
You managed to drive yourself, claiming you had to make a few stops on the way back to the office after lunch. Dean, Sam, Charlie, and Tara had carpooled together and were already seated when you arrived. The only chair open was fortunately by Charlie but unfortunately across from Sam. The double decker sandwich looked good and you could take it home for dinner. But having Sam staring at you across the table… you ordered a salad. You did not miss the quick uptick on his lips, satisfied by your choice. You felt shame clawing away at you inside for succumbing to his shadow. Focusing on the conversation happening around the table and pretending to be okay was proving hard.
“Today’s a good day. I am so excited you’re here,” Dean said slapping Sam on the back. He looked beside himself.
“Likewise, man,” Sam said in turn.
“And Dean did get himself out of a ticket this morning apparently. He’s having a great day,” Tara jested.
Sam laughed asking Dean what she meant. And Dean explained he had talked his way out of a speeding ticket; that was no surprise, he was suave.
“And I got an extra cookie at the coffee shop by accident!” Charlie piped up, looking pleased with herself. She took a long drink of her milkshake before offering you the straw. You laughed, waving her off, gesturing at your water. “Party pooper.”
Dean pointed at you and you sat up straighter, “And Y/N is having a good day too. Getting flowers.”
“Aw, did Cas send you flowers?” Charlie exclaimed teasingly. She was only poking fun and normally that would be okay, but Sam’s gaze was burning into you. Charlie did not know better, how could she? You had not told her the specifics of your time at Austin, specifically who you had had the relationships with.
Tara cocked her head in curiosity. “Cas?”
“Her man,” Charlie informed her, and you wanted to melt into the ground.
“You move fast,” Dean chuckled, a twinkle in his eye. He was giving you a knowing look before shooting a quick one at Sam. He brought his glass to his lips, taking a drink, looking amused.
Him and Sam must be closer than you initially thought. There was no mistaking he knew about you and Sam with the way he was acting.
Stumbling, you opened your mouth to say something, but you were having trouble gathering yourself. For better or worse, Charlie was having no problem.
“Oh, he’s not new, don’t worry. Y/N isn’t foolish,” Charlie told Dean, coming to your defense.
“No, no. We’ve known each other for years, actually,” you said, finally finding a steady voice.
Sam’s nose twitched as he cleared his throat. The food came interrupting the conversation for a few moments, giving you time to breath. But not for long.
“He’s got a bar,” Charlie intoned, digging into her fries. “Real good bar food too.”
“Is that so?” Sam asked, looking at you pointedly. You nodded, faking a small smile.
“It’s a dive bar,” you explained and then wondered why you felt you needed to downplay Castiel’s place. Who cares if it was a dive or a high-end bar? It was his and it was special to you.
Scoffing loudly, Charlie said, “It’s a hell of a lot of fun is what it is. Heyyy!” She clapped her hands and you already saw the words forming. Your stomach tightened, wanting to slap your hand over her mouth. “Since we are supposed to be going out next week, maybe instead of that other place, we could go to Cas’ place! That would be cool. The drinks aren’t badly priced and I am honestly sick of sushi restaurants. Evelyn can eat it – sorry, Tara – because she’s gotten to choose the last couple places!”
There were murmurs of agreements around the table, as well as chuckles shared at Charlie’s expense of her lack of a filter.
“Yeah, maybe. It’d be nice to see where you set your roots down, Y/N. You’re missed in Austin,” Sam commented, taking a sip of his water.
You were sure you were.
Shrugging, smiling around the table, you said, “I am sure Cas won’t complain about the business.”
“Of course not, I’ll be there,” Charlie chirped, drawing another chorus of laughs.
<> <> <>
It had taken everything in you for the rest of the day to keep yourself together knowing Sam was so close. You tensed every time someone knocked on your door, let alone walked by. He had not popped in after lunch, much to your relief. But still, you had spent all afternoon waiting for him to appear in front of your desk, peering down at you, making you feel small.
That first time when he had ignored the rules should have been the moment you walked away. But you had not; you had let him make it up to you. And he did.
Until it happened again. And he told you he would make it up to once more.
He had managed to begin wedging himself into your life outside the bedroom. He talked you up at parties, told people you were planning on going for more education – something you had flippantly mentioned and he latched onto it, insisting that that was the right path for you. Whispers fell on you as he passed about your outfit, encouraging you to wear more dresses because that was more suitable, and it was pleasing to him to see you walk by. Whispers about how many calories were in the tenders and fries you had ordered along with a few others from a local restaurant for lunch.
Sam talked about you coming back after school and taking a leadership position. He talked about your future, like he was in charge of shaping it himself. There was no mistake he was plotting to get you firmly in his clutches, mold you into the perfect little wife for himself.
Educated, pretty, and good in the bedroom.
As soon as you had heard about the opening back home, you had jumped on the opportunity. You had asked Jerry to keep it under wraps that you had applied, praying he had no idea about the relationship between you and Sam. When he agreed, you assumed he had not, and you had been relieved. Seeing the look on Sam’s face when you were clearing out your office was worth it. He had cornered you and you told him with more bravery than you thought you possessed that the other office had a better position, and you were leaving that night. You had planned it out to be able to escape from the city, so he did not have an opportunity to try to persuade you to stay by showing up at your place.
He could not cause a scene in the office and you were able to slip out the door and away.
If only he had just stayed in Austin.
<> <> <>
You slapped a twenty on the counter in front of Castiel, plopping into the bar stool. “Double. Please.”
Cocking an eyebrow, Castiel leaned forward, “What’s wrong, Y/N?”
Shrugging, you said, “Nothing. I just need a stiff one. Quickly.”
He studied you for a few moments before taking the twenty and moving back hesitantly. He fetched you the drink and you exchanged a hello with a regular that passed by. You had gone home, thrown your bag on the couch and come downstairs immediately to the bar still in your work attire. There was no wonder why Castiel seemed confused and concerned about your demeanor.
When he placed it in front of you, you gave a quick, ‘Cheers’ before downing half the drink. When you came up for air, you exhaled deeply, closing your eyes, feeling the drink move down.
Opening your eyes again, you saw Castiel down the bar topping off the other patron’s drinks before whispering something to the cook, Raphael, who had come out. Raphael nodded at him and Castiel came back towards you.
“Come on for a minute,” Castiel said, beckoning you with two fingers. You opened your mouth to protest, but he said, “Bring your drink if you need to. To the back.”
Reluctantly, you followed him, drink in hand.
He led you to the back room and closed the door behind the pair of you. He turned on his heel and asked, “Alright. Cut the shit. What’s wrong?” You again opened your mouth, but he held up his hand. “And don’t feed me bullshit, Y/N. Be honest.”
Castiel was not going to let it go until you told him. Maybe it was just better to get it off your chest now rather than hold it in. You did promise yourself you were going to do better by the two of you this time around and keeping something like this from him was not going to serve you well in the long run.
You wet your lips. “Do… do you remember that guy I told you about?”
Castiel looked confused for a moment. “Which…?”
“The one who… who didn’t, you know, listen to me? With the safe words?”
It was hard to get it out.
Realization dawned on Castiel’s face. He straightened up, staring you down. “Yes. Why?”
“He’s here!” you blurted, your hands shaking, holding tightly to your glass. Castiel cocked his head, his forehead creasing. “He moved here. To the office, I mean.”
“Wait, what?” Castiel asked, stepping closer.
“He’s working on a project here.”
“He was an ex coworker?”
“Yes. One of the junior partners. One of my superiors.”
Castiel looked in disbelief for a moment before he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Christ, Y/N. Really?”
Defending yourself, you snapped, “I didn’t ask him to come here!”
“No—That’s not it,” Castiel sighed, running his hand through his hair. “You don’t get involved with coworkers. Especially your bosses!”
“You are really going to chastise me right now?”
“Fuck. No. I’m sorry. Just…” Castiel trailed off, hands on his hips, staring at the ground.
You took the silence as an opportunity to take another long gulp off your drink.
“How long is he gonna be there?” Castiel asked after a few moments.
“I’m not sure,” you told him honestly. “Projects vary. This one is a big one. He is thankfully working more so with Dean and not just me directly.” You took another drink. “But they wanna come here. To the bar.” Castiel looked at you expectantly and you explained, “Well, Charlie – and she didn’t mean to because she has no idea what happened, believe me – suggested everyone come here sometime after work. And Tara agreed. And of course Sam did because he knows about you now and he is gonna wanna���”
“Sam?”
“That’s his name.”
“You hadn’t said it yet. And what is exactly gonna wanna do?”
Throwing your hand out at him, you said, “To see you. Size you up.” Castiel cocked an eyebrow, looking unimpressed. “You know how people are when they wanna see their competition.”
Castiel closed the space between the two of you and he asked seriously, “Am I competition?”
Realizing how that must have sounded, you quickly said, “Of course not! I left Austin for a reason.” Castiel did not look convinced and you grasped his hand tightly. “Seriously. I almost threw up when I saw him. And not in a good way! No excitement there. Just… dread, I guess.”
He was quiet for a few moments before saying firmly, “You should tell your boss.” You started to shake your head and he cut in roughly, “Why? Why would you not if you are not feeling safe?”
The absolute last thing you wanted to do was rehash anything that happened with Sam with anyone else other than Castiel. Not right now or maybe ever. Who would believe you in that company anyway? Sam was a golden boy, loved by everyone and a superstar at his work. Trying to talk to someone, especially your boss, about what had happened could cost you your job.
“I don’t want to,” you said thickly, tears forming. “I don’t wanna talk to anyone else about it. I just… wanna forget it.”
“You can’t.”
“I know. But I want to try to. He’ll be gone soon enough and…” you exhaled shakily, squeezing Castiel’s hand once more and he returned the gesture. “I can get back to normal after that.”
Nodding knowingly, Castiel enveloped you to him, holding you close.
“I’ll kick his ass if he tries anything,” He told you quietly.
You laughed, letting out some tension. “I know. I know you would, Cas.”
~~~
CASTIEL FOREVER TAGS: @willowing-love @perseusandmedusa @greenappleeyes @afanofmanystuffs @earthtokace @shikaros-blog @marisayouass @splendidcas
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just us |ch.2| g. weasley
2nd May 1998 5:45am
Voldemort and his army marched across the Hogwarts bridge. Rory could see that horrid woman, Bellatrix Lestrange, dancing her way around Hagrid. As they got closer she realized that Hagrid was carrying someone. It was easy to assume who it was, but she could not bring herself to think of it.
The survivors were all making their way out of the Great Hall and into the courtyard to meet the Dark Lord. Rory held onto George's arm in an attempt to feel some sort of comfort and security.
The Death Eaters excited voices easily overpowered the silence and gloomy footsteps of the last defenders of Hogwarts.
"Stop." Voldemort halted his followers. It became clear to everyone who Hagrid was carrying.
"NO!" McGonagall cried, followed by many varying cries of mourning and despair from those closest to Harry and those who only knew him as a beacon of hope and light in these dark times. Rory choked back her sobs as she buried her face into George's back, unable to look at the scene before her.
"SILENCE!" Voldemort's voice boomed over the cries. "It is over. You see? Harry Potter is dead! Do you see now deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him."
Rory couldn't help but look back into the Great Hall where, just mere hours ago, two people, who she loved more than anything, laid dead. "Could it truly have been for nothing?" she thought to herself.
She could hardly hear Neville confronting the Dark Lord, proving his own bravery, while she wallowed in the pits of her own despair. George tightly gripped the hand she still had on his arm, bringing her attention to what was happening before them.
Voldemort was torturing Neville, but not for long. Within seconds Voldemort's victory fell apart. All at once, Harry disappeared, Neville managed to break free, pull the sword of Gryffindor out of the sorting hat and kill Voldemort's snake and destroy the final Horcrux. A sense of joy and relief rushed over Rory, one that she hadn't thought she would ever feel again, but she knew it wasn't over; not yet.
George turned to her with this certain spark in his eyes. She knew that look, but wasn't one that had ever been directed at her. It was a look that was almost exclusively given to Fred when they had some mischievous epiphany or something that they would've deemed "wicked" had happened. He had instinctually turned to look for Fred to share his amazement in the events unfolding before him, but instead he was faced with Fred's almost-widow.
The spark in his eyes disappeared in an instant, but he still gave her a hopeful smile. No words needed to be spoken in that moment. Nor could they as the Death Eaters had begun their second attack; matters of the heart could be resolved later.
The ensuing battle was a blur. Rory assured she did not stray far from George, keeping an even closer eye on him than she had on Fred, she couldn't relive the same incident and be truly alone this time. It was chaos in the Great Hall. House elves, trolls, hippogriffs, young and old wizards alike all fighting for the greater good of their world.
Rory, George and Lee Jordan had just managed to take down Yaxley when Bellatrix Lestrange's voice rang out over all the ruckus.
"What will happen to your children when I've killed you? When mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?" she said with a devious smirk.
Rory watched as Mrs. Weasley and Bellatrix dueled, nearly struck frozen by the mere mention of Fred's death. She wanted nothing more than to help the woman who had been like a second mother to her; she felt helpless, but Mrs. Weasley was refusing any assistance.
"You - will - never - touch - my - children - again!" Mrs. Weasley shouted as she sent a curse towards Bellatrix, hitting her in her chest and defeating her once and for all. The crowd around them cheered and Rory was pulled into a crippling hug by Lee as he screamed and jumped. George shook them and pointed towards the center of the Great Hall.
Harry had suddenly reappeared and was challenging Voldemort to a duel; just them, no one else. Once again, they could do nothing but watch as their future hung in the balance. Even the Death Eaters ceased their attacks to watch this duel of fates.
The entire hall was on edge as Harry and Voldemort argued. The air was thick with tension and everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Rory almost didn't notice George inching closer to her until he lightly took hold of her hand. They looked at each other for a moment. Rory silently wondered how selfish it would be to disapparate out of there with him before things turned sour again. Of course, she knew this was impossible, it was cowardly and more selfish than she would ever admit, but she was scared.
A loud bang pulled her out of her inner monologue. Voldemort's wand was in the air and the Dark Lord was falling backwards towards the ground, dead; his killing curse had rebounded. It was over.
There was a breath of silence, then the Great Hall roared with cheers, cries and screams of joy. George picked up Rory and spun her around before pulling her to join the crowd of people hugging Harry.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
9:13am
Rory laid her head on her mother's shoulder, silently taking in her surroundings and drowning out her parents and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's current conversation. A mixture of joy and loss filled the Great Hall.
Rory fought with herself with the strange mixture of thoughts and feelings clouding her mind. On one hand, she was relieved, happy even. Voldemort was gone, defeated and dead (completely this time). Her friends and family would no longer have to live in fear and peace would be restored to the wizarding world.
And yet, in the process, there had been so much loss. The feeling of dread and despair dared to take over what was supposed to be a happy moment. Then she felt the guilt that had been hiding in the shadows of her mind and heart.
Fred and Eddie were gone forever; lost not even 24 hours before. She felt so selfish. How could she bask in any form of happiness without them there. It should have been them sitting here and she would've given anything to trade places with them.
She felt a pull to look over at George in that moment. How was he handling the mix of emotions everyone was feeling? This was the farthest and longest they had been separated since he had found her wandering the halls. He was gathered around the rest of the Weasley clan, joking with Percy. A sight, Rory knew, would take some getting used to.
George seemed to be handling everything much better than she had, at least in the present moment. She wished she could be as strong as him. She wished even more that she could go over there and joke with them, but she knew she would only put a damper on their moods. Rory was sure they were feeling many of the same things she had over losing Fred and Eddie, only they had the love and support of their other siblings to distract them from their sorrow. On the other hand, Rory for the first time in 19 years, since she was 7 minutes old, she was an only child.
She watched them longingly only for a few minutes more before George met eyes with her. They shared another sad smile between them and went back to their own conversations.
The gathering stayed like that for another hour or so more. Some people had gone home, others had nothing to return to. Rory didn't know how or when, but suddenly there were people walking around with large dinner plates filled with food. McGonagall had maneuvered a couple house tables for everyone to sit at and suddenly the gathering turned into some kind of impromptu feast.
The Orlandis and the Weasleys sat together, as per usual. Rory noticed her had sat near Fleur, they had bonded at her and Bill's wedding over their shared alma mater and were currently speaking very quickly in French. Her mother and Mrs. Weasley were considering the extent of damage Hogwarts had obtained during the battle and the extensive cleaning and repairs that needed to be done to return the school to its former glory ("Veronica, I say after we're all finished eating we should offer Minerva our services." "I was thinking the same thing!"). Mr. Weasley sitting opposite to them, speaking to Hermione about some muggle foods he had heard of while she, Ron and Harry had been gone searching for horcruxes ("Mr. Weasley, I can assure you hot dogs are not made with actual dog meet. I don't actually know why they are called that, it's just a sausage in a bun."). Ron was sitting next to Hermione, shyly holding her hand under the table ("Finally." Rory thought to herself) while he spoke to Charlie about his dragons back in Romania. Next to them were Harry and Ginny across from Percy and Bill, they all seemed immersed in some story Rory couldn't quite hear over all the noise in the hall. She did notice Percy's face becoming so red it nearly matched the colour of his hair (perhaps this was because Ginny had pointed out that Percy's ex Penelope was sitting just behind them at the next table). Then George cleared his throat.
"Is this seat taken?" he asked, somewhat nervously.
"Even if it was, I'd still let you take it." Rory said with a smile. George matched it as he sat down and began to fill his plate.
"You looked like you could use some company and as always I am obliged to help a lady in need."
Rory couldn't help but chuckle as she rolled her eyes. "Well, thank you good sir from saving me from my lonesome prison." she said sarcastically, though truth be told she was glad he was there.
"You can always count on me." he said with a wink.
"By any chance, do you know where all this food came from? Surely the house elves didn't have time to make all of this."
" I didn't see who first started bringing food out," George said with a mouth full of chicken. "I did see some of the villagers from Hogsmeade bring up some food from the village and I saw Madam Rosmerta bringing up some shepherd's pies with Hagrid. Hagrid was the one who carried all the barrels of butterbeer up, it seems like he got one all to himself." Rory looked over towards where George had pointed and sure enough Hagrid was sitting at the end of the table laughing along with the rest of the Hogwarts staff and his own personal barrel of butterbeer.
"It just seems like so much food for them to have had just lying around ready for a feast." she said in slight disbelief.
George shrugged. " I don't know. Maybe it was a Hogwarts dinner that the house elves had preprepared and warmed up plus whatever the villagers brought."
"Perhaps." Rory said digging into her own slice of shepherd's pie.
"Whoever it was, I'm grateful for it." George said, once again with his mouth full of food. "I was starving." They both giggled before settling into a comfortable silence.
George was nearly finished with his second helping of pudding when he finally broke the silence.
"Are you planning on going back to the flat tonight?"
The question took Rory by surprise. Despite all of the things that had rushed through her mind since the explosion, the flat her, Eddie, Fred and George had shared these past two years was not one of them. She had completely overlooked where she might be sleeping tonight (if she slept at all).
"I- I don't know. Why?"
"Well- I think I want to go stay at the burrow, with mum and everyone. At least until" he paused for a moment, looking away from her and down at his plate "at least until the funeral. Maybe longer, depending on the state I'm in. When all this starts to feel real." Rory could tell this was becoming difficult for him to talk about, despite how hard he was attempting to hold it all together. "I just wanted to make sure it was okay with you." he said quickly, glancing at her before looking back at his plate.
"George," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder, squeezing and struggling to keep her own tears from falling down her face. "you do whatever you need to do to be okay, you don't have to worry about me."
The look on George's looked as if her suggestion had insulted him and his entire bloodline.
"How could I not worry about you, Rory?" he said, looking at her with watery eyes and sounding slightly exasperated. "You're my best mate, if anyone understands exactly how I feel, it's you, Rory. I can't leave you alone right now."
"George-"
"Would you?"
"Sorry?"
"If I told you not to worry about me, would you do it?"
Rory knew he knew the answer to that question, but she had a feeling he wanted her to say it out loud so she couldn't try to deny it in hopes he'd stop worrying. He knew her too well.
"You know I wouldn't, Georgie."
"Alright, that's settled then." he said turning back to his pudding.
"What exactly is settled?" Rory said, more confused than before.
"You'll come stay with at the burrow with me, with everyone." he said very matter-of-factly.
"George- my parents, shouldn't I stay with them?"
He laughed. "Rory, you really don't listen to our mother's conversations, do you?"
"...No?"
He sighed. "Your parents are staying at the burrow too, YOUR mum is helping MY mum with planning the funeral and in their spare time coming to back here to try and give Professor McGonagall another hand with fixing Hogwarts. Bill and Fleur decided to come stay too, and Charlie, and-"
Rory couldn't help but interrupt him. "There's no way we are all going to fit in that house."
He gave her a look as if she hadn't been listening hard enough. "Dad said he still had one of those tents we used at the Quidditch World Cup couple years ago. I reckon that's where your parents, and Bill, Fleur and Charlie are staying. Percy has his old room, I have mine and Fred's, Ron and Ginny have their own and the rest of you lot will spread out through the rooms." he said with a small smile.
Rory was a bit taken aback. They had this all planned out, she wanted to argue that it was too much, but after all these years, she knew better than argue with a Weasley. Especially, when the whole lot of them have decided to take care of you.
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you can find all the chapters of this story on my ao3 and wattpad, links in my bio <3
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A Breath of Fresh Hair
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633025/chapters/59552158
Chapter Two: Friends, Reunited.
Charlie had arrived late into the previous night. Harry had heard him being greeted by his mother and father. He could see in his mind Arthur taking the luggage out of Charlie’s hands and Molly replacing it with a cup of tea. Harry fell to sleep with their indistinguishable chatter floating in and out of his ears. The morning after he was able to take in Charlie’s appearance. The last time he’d seen him was about four months previously and he was just a little bit more tanned, his muscles were a little bigger and his silky hair was that little bit longer. Harry’s fingers twitched at the thought of tidying it up a little bit and feeling the weight and shine of it in his fingers. Envy also flitted in the pit of his stomach. He loved cutting and styling others’ hair, but his was still an uncontrollable mop. Charlie was also clearly covering up yet another new tattoo. Harry thought that Ginny looked the most like Charlie out of all the brothers; both of them had a somewhat androgynous beauty and natural glow about them.
“You alright mate?” Ron’s concerned face came into focus over his cup of tea.
“Yeah, just thinking I guess.” Harry smiled reassuringly at Ron and began to eat the omelette that had just been placed down in front of him. It was delicious.
Bill and Fleur arrived just after all the breakfast things had been cleared away. The heat had come back with a vengeance and Fleur looked like she was melting with her huge baby bump. A gigantic smile kept breaking out on Bill’s face every time he looked at her. Fleur was on Maternity Leave from her position as a healer at St Mungo’s and she was due to give birth a couple of weeks after Ron and Hermione’s wedding. When they’d told the family, Molly could barely contain her excitement. She’d already knitted the baby enough clothes for the first year of its existence. Harry chatted with the family for a while, enjoying the busy hustle and bustle of people having several different conversations at once, people flitting in and out of the kitchen doing jobs and Bill and Fleur’s Basset Hound Philippe playing with Charlie’s Central Asian Shepherd Hound Lucy.
Ginny was buzzing with nervous energy next to Harry. They’d decided that Harry was going to cut their hair the next day. They were going for a style that was short at the sides with some length at the top so they could style it if they wanted to. It was currently tied up in its usual messy bun and Harry couldn’t wait to get his hands on it. Ginny had spoken to Hermione about it, worried that the drastic change would detract attention from her at the wedding and put it on Ginny instead. Hermione had just smiled and wrapped Ginny in a hug, assuring them that they should do whatever made them comfortable. Harry could tell that Ginny was worried about how her family would react. Harry knew that they had no reason to be. They’d all been perfectly accepting when Charlie had come out as gay and then later on as asexual, but he could also understand Ginny’s fears. They’d also been the only little girl of the family for a long time. Ginny was also super nervous about the upcoming trials for the Holyhead Harpies. They’d been training non-stop since they’d been asked to try out the previous month. The try-outs were still a month off, but Ginny wanted to position of Chaser so badly that all of their fiery determination had been poured into practicing and training. Harry reached under the table and squeezed their hand, shooting them a small smile, and they seemed to calm down a fraction. Ginny jumped slightly as an owl tapped frantically on the kitchen window. It was Pig with a letter. They ran over to the window to let the frantic owl in and carefully untied the letter before giving the tiny owl a treat and rushing upstairs.
“Gin’s been getting a lot of letters recently,” Ron remarked, looking up from the sketch book in front of him and tucking a pencil behind his ear. “I wonder who they’re from.”
The Weasley kids and Harry decided to go out for a friendly game of quidditch before lunch, Fleur and Hermione watching from a blanket set up under a large parasol. Ron, Bill, and Harry were on one tea; Charlie, Ginny and George were on the other. The game soon became fierce and sweat was dripping off them all before they’d finished. Ron had become a pretty good keeper, but he was no match against Ginny. They were relying on Harry to catch the snitch, but the game came to an end before that happened when Arthur came out with a tray of his home brewed cider and two gooseberryaids for Ginny and Fleur. They were all parched and the cold beverages felt like heaven as they lounged in the shade, sipping and chatting. Molly was soon walking out of the house towards them, lugging the picnic that her and Ron had prepared the day before. It was spread out on blankets and everyone ate ravenously, and silence fell upon them for a while. When a lot of the food had been consumed and people were picking at bits that were left, conversation started up again and turned towards the upcoming wedding.
“Are you excited Hermione?” Fleur asked, resting her glass on her bump and shifting to try and get comfortable again.
“I am. There’s been so much to plan, but I’ve been so thankful for my mum and Molly helping with the organisation. They’ve been stars.”
“I can’t wait to see your dress, I bet you’re going to look stunning.” Charlie grinned at her. Harry agreed. He wondered what kind of style she’d gone with. For her job at the ministry she usually just wore smart trousers and a blouse and comfy shoes that allowed her to be on her feet as much as she needed to, and around the house she either wore cropped capris and a tank top and cardigan or maxi dresses. She usually either had her hair braided to keep it away from her face or left it natural and wore a thick fabric headband. Comfort and practicality were Hermione’s style, but she always looked effortlessly wonderful. She smiled back at them and tapped the side of her nose. Ron looked at her adoringly.
Ron and Hermione got together at the end of the war. There was something about them that just fit. Hermione was strong and independent, and Ron loved that about her. He knew that she could look after herself and he admired her passion and drive. She’d gone back to Hogwarts to study and get the qualifications she needed to get the job she wanted at the Ministry. She threw herself into her studies as a way of dealing with her grief and as a way of proving herself to others. Ron stayed at The Burrow and looked after his mum. He cooked and cleaned on the days that she couldn’t get out of bed and he drew a lot. He would go out for hours walking and drawing landscapes. He drew a portrait of Hermione for their first anniversary and it was one of the most beautiful things that Harry had ever seen. He’d managed to catch her power, calm confidence and wicked mischief whilst also perfectly portraying her soft curves, perfect skin and gorgeous bouncy hair. It really was a masterpiece. After a while he started drawing up plans for buildings that Dean and Seamus were working on. They offered him a position in their business as a partner. He declined, saying he’d rather work freelance, but they would have first dibs on him if they ever needed him. It was tough for the couple at the start of their relationship. They were apart for a lot of it, only seeing each other at weekends and during the holidays, and they were both broken and grieving. They made it work though. The three of them spent the weekends and holidays that Hermione was back from Hogwarts looking for ways to fid her parents and restore their memories. It took them seven and a half months, but they managed it with the help of the rest of the family and the teachers at Hogwarts. Harry blinked a couple of times, picking up a handful of blueberries and anchoring himself back in the present. Ginny squeezed his shoulder supportively and left to go and find more cider for the rest of the group and gooseberryade for themselves.
Neville, Dean and Seamus arrived later on that day. They were going to spend the couple of days before the wedding putting together gazebos and marquees to give people places to shelter from the heat. Neville was in charge of living flower arrangements, including flowers that glowed with soft light when it went dark that would provide lighting in the evening. The next couple of days were bound to be full of stress, work and excitement. None of them minded, however, as they’d been promised Molly and Ron’s cooking. Harry was looking forward to watching everyone creating and working with the things they loved. It was fascinating to him to see people so passionate about things. He was charged with odd jobs and then styling the hair of the bridal party, which included Hermione the bride, Ginny as the maid of honour and Fleur and Luna as the bridesmaids. He couldn’t wait to see what they all looked like after he’d finished, especially when they were all in their beautiful clothes.
After a while, Charlie, Bill and Fleur went back into the house and Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Dean, Seamus and Neville sat reminiscing about their days at Hogwarts. Neville had become a professor of Herbology at Hogwarts the year before after his Grandmother had passed away and was looking forward to going back after the summer. He adored his job; he swore when he took up the position that no child under his care would ever feel the way he did at school and Harry knew that he would stick to his word. He also wrote a plant advice column for the Quibbler and dabbled in landscaping and flower arranging in his spare time, if he ever had any. He’d been ecstatic when Ron and Hermione had asked him to do the flowers for their wedding. Dean and Seamus had brought Noodle along with them and the three dogs were bounding around the garden, making a game of who could make the biggest splashes in the pond. The group sat watching and laughing at the dogs, making bets on which one would run up to them and shake water all over them first.
“Pizza?” Ron’s question caused a flurry of excitement amongst the friends and they all gave him their orders for him to make on his outdoor pizza oven. The pizza was crisp, the cheese was gooey, and Harry was thankful that he was Ron’s best friend; the guy knew how to cook. After they were all so stuffed with pizza that they didn’t think they could move, Seamus conjured a fire pit and Ron went to look for marshmallows. They sat late into the night drinking and talking and being at piece with the world. They were all excited about the wedding and all of the things that were planned for after it, but after a while they all began struggling to keep their eyes open and decided that it was time to retire to the house, ready for the insane amount of work that they would be doing in the following couple of days.
Harry went to sleep with a full stomach and a full heart.
#drarry#pan ginny#non binary ginny#trans luna#bi harry potter#gay draco malfoy#black hermione granger#aromantic asexual charlie
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Will you help me?
Chapter 4: No reason to sing
Tommy stares at the wall opposite him while the family is gathered for dinner. He hasn’t really touched his food as his mind is busy figuring out what could have possibly happened for Y/N to talk about herself like she did yesterday. After saying that he would never go near her again if he knew, she had made a quick exit and left Tommy to stare at the door with a solemn look on his face.
“Tommy!” Polly exclaims. She has asked him why he’s not eating at least three times now and she’s had enough. When she sees that he seems to snap out of whatever he was thinking about she continues talking. “What is going on with you?”
Tommy shakes his head, but John decides to speak up. “He’s probably still thinking about that moment with Y/N at The Garrison.” He says with his mouth filled with food. He had noticed his brother making his way over to Y/N and he could tell that something had happened when Tommy joined him later.
“What moment?” Polly asks as her eyes flit across Tommy’s face to look for any clue as to what happened, but Tommy doesn’t say anything. “What is he talking about, Thomas?” Polly presses.
“That new barmaid was singing, and Y/N was having a tough time, so Tommy went over.” John speaks up once again as Tommy doesn’t seem to have any intention to. Arthur watches the conversation with a frown on his face. He doesn’t understand Tommy these days, not when it comes to the business and not when it comes to Y/N. Finn seems oblivious to the tension and continues to eat, whilst Ada shakes her head at her brother’s inability to communicate properly.
“That woman shouldn’t have been singing.” Tommy voice is sharp as he pulls out a cigarette. He blames Grace for upsetting Y/N like that, though he knows it’s more than that. But as long as Y/N won’t tell him the deeper reason, he will focus his anger on the direct catalyst; Grace and her singing.
Polly watches as he lights the cigarette and take a few aggressive puffs before settling down slightly. She sees the anger he feels, but she also knows that it’s not just anger; he feels helpless and the only way he can let that out is through anger. She’s about to speak up again when there’s a knock on the door.
Rising from her seat Polly makes her way to the door and Tommy straightens up in his chair when he sees his aunt come back in with Y/N. “Oh I didn’t realize you were having dinner, I’m sorry.” Y/N says as she stops walking while Polly finds her way back to her seat.
“Don’t be.” Arthur tells her as he stands up to get another seat. “Sit down, have some food. You’re getting far too thin.” He says as he bustles around the room to get her a plate and some cutlery. He doesn't know what exactly caused Tommy and Y/N to fall apart, but he thinks his brother is an idiot for ever letting her go.
“It’s fine Arthur, I’ll eat later.” She tries to persuade him, but he just keeps going. She didn’t plan on staying long. She just wanted to tell one of the brothers what happened and go home, but it doesn’t look like that’s an option anymore as a place is prepared for her at the table and the others urge her to join as well.
Tommy is the only one that doesn’t speak up, but his eyes follow every movement she makes. “What’s that?” He asks as she takes off her coat and he notices a new bandage on her arm. He’s sure that it’s not from the shards of glass, because those are almost completely healed and he has practically memorized where each of those cuts where on her hands and arms. No this is a new wound and it only makes him angrier; why doesn’t anyone let her live in peace?
“It’s just a cut, it was an accident.” Y/N assures him. She can see the emotions swimming in his eyes, but there’s no need for him to get angry. “Danny had one of his episodes again and he had a knife.” She tells them as she nods at Arthur in thanks as he puts some food on her plate. “His other victim looks a bit worse though.” She sighs as she shakes her head.
“Other victim?” Ada’s eyes widen as she asks the question. She has never seen Danny when he’s like that, but she has heard enough stories to know that no one is safe around him when it happens.
“He, uh.” Y/N glances at Finn, unsure if she should continue or not. There’s no need for the boy to hear this.
“Finn go play in your room.” John tells him, and the young boy puts up a fight and complains, but eventually leaves the room. As soon as he’s gone the eyes of the remaining Shelby’s urge her to continue.
“He killed an Italian before I could get to him.” She says as she closes her eyes to force the image from her mind. “They saw him do it, so they’ll come for him.” She opens her eyes again and they meet Tommy’s. “I just thought I should let you know.”
Tommy maintains eye-contact as he nods. “I’ll deal with it.” He tells her. The look on her face makes him want to change the subject as soon as possible, and after a moment of silence he speaks up again. “Harry gave me Grace’s references and I’ve got men looking into it.” He lets her know.
Y/N nods as she recalls their brief conversation about Grace. “It’s just a feeling, there’s probably nothing wrong with her.” She tries to brush it off.
Polly raises her eyebrows as she looks at Y/N. “It’s not just a feeling, Y/N, it’s your gift.” She tells the younger woman. “You should have a bit more faith in your gypsy side, it has always been right in the past.” She adds. Y/N’s mother was half Romani, so Polly believes it’s in Y/N’s blood. Whenever Y/N has a bad feeling about someone when she meets them for the first time, she turns out to be right. A new teacher at school, who they later found out beat his wife. A new baker in town, who turned out to be blackmailing some of his costumers. Her feeling, or intuition as Polly calls it, has always been right.
“Well, we will find out soon enough.” Tommy says as takes a drag from his cigarette before putting it out if the ashtray in the middle of the table and finally taking a bite from his food.
“John tells me the new barmaid was singing yesterday.” Polly casually remarks; if Tommy won’t give her an answer then she’ll try to get it out of Y/N. Though that is proving to be more difficult than it used to be. Before the war Y/N told Polly everything, but that’s not the case anymore.
Y/N tenses up and her eyes flicker to Tommy for a moment but then fall back to her plate. “She was.” She says and quickly takes another bite in the hope that Polly will let it rest, but she should have known better.
“He says you were having a tough time listening to it, dear.” Polly’s face softens as she sees how uncomfortable Y/N seems. “Why don’t you sing anymore?” She asks softly as she reaches out to touch Y/N’s hand, but the younger woman pulls it out of her reach and rests it in her lap.
“I have no reason to sing anymore.” Y/N says softly, but everyone hears her because they’ve all fallen silent at this point. “It just brought back some memories, that’s all.” She says as she forces a smile on her face; she doesn’t want to get into this. What happened in the office with Tommy was bad enough, she doesn’t want to relive that.
Tommy clenches his jaw as he sees the pain in Y/N’s eyes. Why did Polly bring it up again? Why won’t she just leave this alone? None of this has anything to do with her, so she needs to stay out of it. “See, that’s all.” He says once he’s sure the words will come out calm. “No reason to turn it into something bigger.” He adds, and he nods at Y/N as she sends him a grateful look. What happened is something between him and her, and the rest of his family doesn’t need to know.
A deep sigh leaves Tommy as he closes the door to the house. It’s been a long day and he needs some air. First pretending to shoot Danny, then Arthur’s complaints about Monaghan Boy winning, only to end the day with lying to his aunt about doing the right thing with the guns. He knows she’ll never understand why he did it, but it’s too good an opportunity to pass up on.
He lights up a cigarette and walks in the direction of The Garrison. The new barmaid is standing outside smoking. She heads inside just as Y/N leaves for the day, and he watches as the two exchange goodbyes at the door before Y/N starts walking while rummaging through her purse. “Here.” He says as he offers her his cigarette, which causes her to look up and notice him. “I assume that’s what you were looking for.” He adds as he gestures at her purse.
“It was.” Y/N says as she takes it from him. She hadn’t noticed him, because she was busy looking in her purse and now she’s not sure what else to say to him. They haven’t really spoken since the dinner. “You going for a drink?” She decides to ask as she nods towards The Garrison before taking a drag.
Tommy shakes his head as he watches her lips wrap around the cigarette exactly where his were a moment before; it’s probably as close as he’ll ever come to kissing her again. “I was just going for a walk.” He tells her.
Y/N nods and lets her eyes go over his face. She frowns when she notices the tiny specks of what looks to be blood on his collar. Before she can stop herself, her hand raises and her fingers brush the edge of his collar. “What happened?”
A frown appears on Tommy’s face as he wonders what she’s talking about, but then he remembers the remnants of sheep brain he had to wipe of his face after shooting Danny. Some of it must have ended up on his collar. “It’s just some splatter of sheep brain that I shot at Danny to make the Italians believe he’s dead.” He says and watches as her hand moves away from him again and she takes another drag of the cigarette before throwing it to the ground. “They wanted him dead for what he did, so I made them believe he is. Charlie is taking him out of town.”
She nods in understanding, relief washes over her now that she knows Danny will be okay, and she watches Tommy pulls out a cigarette for himself. “Does your walk happen to be going that way?” She asks him softly as she gestures in the direction she’ll take to get home. As scared as she is that he will bring up what happened in The Garrison the other night, it doesn’t change the fact that she still wants to be close to him.
“It is now.” Tommy says, and they look at each other for a moment before they start walking. He’s glad she asked, glad that she’s not pushing him away now like she did in the office of The Garrison the other day. “I heard back from the men that went to check the barmaid’s references.” He says as he blows out some smoke. His free hand stuffed in his pocket as he walks next to Y/N, once again wishing he could reach out and take her hand. “She never worked in Dublin, no one there has heard of her.” He lets her know. “You’re feeling was right.”
Y/N frowns. “Not necessarily.” She says as she pulls her coat tighter around her. “Maybe she just wanted to get away from her old life; it doesn’t necessarily mean that there’s something bad about her.” She explains after Tommy gives her a questioning look.
“If she wanted to get away from something, it must have been bad.” Tommy says with a shake of his head; why does she still not trust her own intuition? “And if the bad follows her here, then that’s bad too.” He adds.
“Maybe it won’t.” Y/N shrugs as they come to a stop before her house. “Maybe she’s just another lost soul.” She mutters before she takes her keys out of her purse. “Goodnight, Tommy.”
“Goodnight.” He nods at her and once again waits until she has shut the door behind her, before he leaves. It’s a habit he developed when they were together. He feared that it wasn’t safe for her alone on the streets, so he stayed until he was sure she was safe inside. He even waited until he heard her key turn to lock the door from the inside. He once told Arthur, who laughed at him and said he was whipped. John had been more understanding. He was smitten with Martha at the time and understood why Tommy did it. He shakes his head at the memory of John telling Arthur to stop being jealous because he didn’t have a girl of his own, and picks up his pace.
#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinder fanfic#thomas shelby imagine#thomas shelby fanfic#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby fanfic
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Beat by the Beater
(ANOTHER MC interaction story with Sarahi Silvers, aka @dat-silvers-girl . Enjoy! This is also going in tandem with the release of the Quidditch event coming fairly soon.)
“And there goes Lin on the pitch with the Quaffle for Gryffindor--wow, she’s incredibly fast on her broom, especially for someone from my house--”
“McNully! This is supposed to be a fair match!”
Not even the Professor’s shout could break Clara’s focus. A recently accepted member of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, she knew she had to play her best to prove that she’s more than just a famed student Curse-Breaker. Skye had faith in her, and her captain had faith in her, too. It was all she could do not to screw up their chance at victory.
It had only been a few weeks since her tryouts, and since then she had been training, training, training for this match against Hufflepuff. She knew she would be up against some tough competition--Acromantulas and Hungarian Horntails won’t be a major obstacle on the pitch, but there were other players who were buffier than her, taller than her, and definitely much more skilled. Amidst trying to find clues for the last Vault, dealing with many a fallout within her big friend group, and keeping her little sister safe, she had far too much on her hands. Still, she knew she couldn’t let the team down. Skye had given her practical training, Murphy some tactical training, and she even spent days in the library looking up Quidditch matches and techniques.
They taught her so much, it would be a shame to give them her worst performance.
She quickly dodged another Hufflepuff Chaser coming her way, tucking into a barrel roll careening out of his way, before passing the Quaffle toward the other Gryffindor Chaser. Her eyes remained trained on the big red ball--so trained, though, that she failed to notice a Bludger coming in.
“What’s this? A Bludger coming in on Lin?!”
Clara heard the crowd gasp below her, and for a minute, she hovered in midair, her eyes fixed on the scarlet rippling sea.
Then the iron-wrought ball finally met her skull with a sickening SMACK, and she felt herself slipping off her broom, falling through the air...
---
“Go Skye! You got this! Woohoo!”
The stands that day were full of students coming down to watch the Quidditch friendly match--though the numbers were fewer than the typical Quidditch match that determined the standings for their interhouse Quidditch Cup, the enthusiasm that radiated all over still made Clara’s insides warm and her intrigue at its highest peak. Her eyes darted all over as the players showed their skill, flying so fast they were like blurs through the air.
Then she saw it--an iron-wrought ball soaring its way toward her.
She didn’t even have time to duck.
“Gotcha!”
Clara glanced up, eyes wide as the Beater’s bat swung at her face, steering the Bludger away from her face. It took her a few moments to realize that it was Skye who managed to grab hold of the bat and swing it far away. Clara checked her glasses--thankfully, it wasn’t damaged.
“Thank me later,” Skye shouted at her before diving back into the fray.
---
��You reckon she’ll be okay?”
“She doesn’t look so good.”
“No skull cracks, though! I’m shocked.”
“Reckon she’s got a thick skull or something?”
“She’s resilient for a Curse-Breaker!”
Soft murmurs floated above Clara’s head, and she slowly opened her eyes to see the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team by her bedside, along with Rowan who just stared down at her best friend with wide eyes. Or at least, that’s what she saw. Everything around her looked really out of focus, but nothing was seriously distorted.
“Clara! You alright?” Skye asked her, helping her sit up.
“Ugh...” Clara groaned and rubbed her eyes. “I feel fine. Well, not really. I feel like my head just weighed a thousand pounds.” She blinked a couple times, not trusting herself to turn her head to reach for her glasses. “What happened?”
“One of the Hufflepuff Beaters got you good with the Bludger,” Rowan explained. “Sarahi Silvers, I think her name is.”
“Sarahi?” Clara’s eyes widened at the name.
“How do you know, Rowan?” Skye asked her.
“Saw the name on the back of the jersey,” Rowan explained with a shrug. “Charlie got the Snitch shortly after you passed out, though--it gave us a victory, but everyone’s worried about you.”
“We...won?” A smile crossed Clara’s face, and she chuckled briefly. “Well, I guess you can say I finally got bested by a tough Beater. Not an Ice Knight, or an Acromantula...”
“Wait, an Acromantula?” Skye’s eyes widened.
“Details will follow. But Clara...” Rowan looked at her friend in concern, and Clara just shook her head.
“Seriously guys, I’ll be okay. Just a bit of bed rest would do me well,” Clara tried to reassure them.
With a few terse nods from her teammates and a gift of a couple bottles of Butterbeer, the team left her alone in the hospital wing to rest and recover.
It’s crazy, though. One moment, she thought she was going to screw up today’s match. Next thing she knew, she didn’t even think of something that almost happened to her repeating itself while she was right in the fray. No one was there to hit the Bludger away from her this time. She had suffered the pain that she almost got the first time it came her way in the stands--but at least it was better than other sources of eternal immense pain. She had to be grateful, at least, that she was still alive.
Some time later, she woke up to another visitor, dropping by with her yellow Hufflepuff Quidditch robes all mussed up and her black hair sticking up every which way. Her face was still muddied somewhat with dirt, and her skin shone with sweat. It didn’t take long for Clara to recognize her friend, and she smiled wearily.
“Silvers,” she greeted her in a low voice. “Didn’t think you’d come.”
Sarahi opened and closed her mouth like a fish for a few good seconds, looking at the Butterbeer bottles on her bedside and then at her friend lying on the bed. She shook her head and took off her Quidditch gloves.
“That was my Bludger, wasn’t it?” she asked. “Oh god, Clara, I’m so sorry! I swore I was aiming for Charlie, but it must have switched directions--”
“It’s fine. I don’t blame you. The wind was pretty strong, wasn’t it?” Clara responded quietly.
“I’m serious!” Sarahi said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you this badly!”
Clara shook her head and chuckled. “You got me good, alright. And I don’t blame you for that. You did what you had to do to ensure Hufflepuff’s victory.”
“Clara...”
“Sarahi, I’m serious--don’t apologize for it. I’m fine.” Clara chuckled again and sat up, this time on her own. “Besides, it’s not like I’ll die from Acromantula venom or a deadly Hungarian Horntail wound. I’ll recover. I’ve got a thick skull.”
“You sure?” Sarahi asked.
“Sure.”
It was at that moment when Madam Pomfrey came around now, a small package in her hands.
“This is from your teammates, Miss Lin,” she said, placing it carefully beside the Butterbeers on the bedside table. “Best eat it up before it soils.”
Eat what up? Clara quickly grabbed the package and unwrapped it, surprised to see a small assortment of pastries and biscuits. Probably their get-well-gift to her. She smiled and then held up a pastry to Sarahi, offering it to her. “Want one?”
“You sure?” Sarahi asked again. “You seriously don’t blame me for that head injury?”
“I’ll be fine. I’m in good hands,” Clara reassured her again. “Now go on, have a pastry. And a Butterbeer. I doubt I’ll be able to finish it all by myself.”
And so the two of them had a rather merry conversation over Butterbeer, pastries, and laughter in the quiet hospital wing.
#hogwarts mystery#quidditch#hufflepuff#gryffindor#sarahi silvers#clara lin#short story#one shot#okay anyway#i hope it wasn't crappy#eeeeeek#curse breakers#cursed vaults#madam pomfrey#skye parkin#rowan khanna
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