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lumosandnoxwriting · 4 years ago

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Teapots, Secret Passageways and Forever - George Weasley

Title: Teapots, Secret Passageways and Forever Pairing: George x Fem!Slytherin!Reader Warnings: NSFW!!! Dirty talk, fingering, oral (male receiving), throat fucking, orgasm denial, light spanking, degredation. Summary: turns out falling in love with your enemy is more complicated that George and Y/N thought. A/N: here it is, the sequel to good girl!! This actually ended up turning out differently than I thought I would and im not sure how I feel about that but I’m gonna upload it anyway otherwise it will quite literally never end up on here haha. But anyway, feedback is always appreciated/welcome!! Read part 1 here!

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George lets out a sigh, causing Y/N to glare up at him. He had promised to be good when Y/N agreed to let him tag along with her to the library, but they’ve only been there for 20 minutes and this is already the 5th time he’s let out a deep sigh. George grins at her, and even though she wants to be mad, Y/N finds him too adorable to even act like she’s mad.

Y/N rests her chin on her hand, just letting herself watch George for a moment. It’s hard for her to believe that just a few months ago she hated his guts, because now just the sight of George makes her feel dizzy with love. “What do you want, George?”

“Your attention,” George responds as if the answer is obvious. “When you said I could come with you I figured you’d end up sucking my cock or something. Not actually do homework.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the shiver that runs down her spine. “How can one person be that horny? We literally just had sex this morning.”

George bites his lip, memories of their early morning meeting taking over his mind. Y/N is still apprehensive about spending the night in his dorm, so Saturday mornings have become their opportunity to be together before George has Quidditch practice. There isn’t a deserted corridor or secret passageway they haven’t done it in, and they spent quite a few hours together this morning in the same secret passageway they hooked up in for the first time.

“Have you looked in a mirror lately, darling? You’re absolutely gorgeous and not to mention sexy,” George compliments, reaching out to cup Y/N’s cheek. “I just can’t control myself around you. Every time I’m around you I have the overwhelming urge to just touch you and pull you close.”

Y/N can feel her cheeks flushing, and she tilts her chin forward to silently ask George for a kiss. He kisses her briefly, but it doesn’t fail to make Y/N feel lightheaded. “That’s very sweet of you to say, Georgie. And while I find you extremely, extremely sexy, I do actually have to do my homework. Because of your inability to keep your hands to yourself I’m falling behind in Potions and Herbology.”

“Oh come on Snivellous loves you, he’d probably do your assignment for you if you asked. And Sprout is a total pushover. All you have to do is give her some sob story and you’ll get an extension easily.” George’s lower lip juts out, giving Y/N his best pout. “Please? Just pay attention to me a little bit.”

“Or, you can sit here with me quietly while I do my homework, and when I’m all done you can take me to the room of requirement and have your way with me,” Y/N suggests, picking her quill back up.

“Alright, you’ve got yourself a deal.” George sits back in his chair, just watching Y/N work. She’s worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she works on a Potions essay and George finds it incredibly cute. He finds it hard to believe that he once wanted nothing to do with Y/N. He’s absolutely captivated by everything she does, and he could spend hours just sitting there watching her do nothing.

“First Quidditch game of the year next week,” George comments idly. He knows he shouldn’t say anything, but he’s been sitting there quietly for the past 45 minutes and he can’t resist his urge to say something. It’s a Saturday evening and they’re the only two in the library, so he doesn’t even have anyone else around to watch and distract himself.

Y/N hums, not looking up from her essay. Honestly she’s surprised George lasted 45 minutes without saying anything, so she’s willing to humor him a bit while she works. “Is that so?”

“Mhm. Angelina’s first game as captain. She’s a nervous wreck. But she’s been doing really good. It’s like Wood is still there.” George pauses, watching as Y/N scribbles a few things down. “You gonna be there?”

“Of course.” She looks up to wink at George. “Slytherin’s playing. I never miss a Slytherin game.”

George rolls his eyes playfully. “But you’re not just going to be there for Slytherin, right? You’re gonna be there to watch a super-hot Ginger whiz around the field hitting bludgers at everyone.”

Y/N shrugs. “I dunno. If you ask me Fred really isn’t that good of a Quidditch player.” When George pouts at her Y/N laughs and leans forward to kiss him. “I’m only joking, love. ‘Course I’ll be there cheering you on. Maybe not as loud as I’ll be cheering for Slytherin but cheering nonetheless.”

“Guess that’ll have to do,” George drawls, fake disappointment in his tone. George bites his lip, watching Y/N flip through her Potions book before she scribbles something down on her essay. “Can I ask you something?” When Y/N nods he continues. “Will you wear one of my extra Quidditch jumpers to the game?”

Y/N looks up at George then, putting her quill down. “And betray my house? George Weasley how dare you ask that of me!” she responds, feigning shock. “How about I wear your Gryffindor hat or scarf? That way you can spot me in the crowd of Slytherins and I’ll be warm.”

George frowns. “But I want you to wear my jumper. You can wear your own hat and scarf and my jumper will keep you warm.”

“It’s just that. I always wear one of Adrian’s quidditch jumpers. And Daphne wears one of Marcus’. It’s like, our thing. Has been since second year when they made the team,” Y/N explains. She reaches out to grab George’s hand, frowning when he pulls it away. “Georgie. Don’t be like this.”

George huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. He knows that Adrian and Y/N are best friends, and even though she’d reassured him that her and Adrian never had romantic feelings for one and other, George can’t help but feel jealous when it comes to him. Obviously Y/N is his girlfriend and he knows that she loves him, but the mere mention of Adrian never fails to drive him up the wall.

“Just thought you’d want to wear you boyfriend’s Quidditch jumper,” he mumbles, settling back into his chair.

“It’s just a jumper, George. I don’t see what the big deal is.” When George doesn’t say anything Y/N sighs and gets up, walking over to George. She straddles his waist and places her hands on his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to George’s mouth. She keeps pecking his lips until George melts and kisses her back eagerly, his hands settling on her hips. “If it really means that much to you, I’ll wear it.”

“Promise?” George asks, unable to keep from smiling.

“Promise. But I’m wearing my Slytherin hat and scarf. Can’t let people think I’ve gone completely soft for you.” Y/N looks back at her homework, before looking at George again. “Ah screw it. I’ll just finish that tomorrow. Take me to the room of requirement?”

George’s eyes light up and he grips Y/N’s thighs as he stands up. “No need to ask me twice.”

“You can’t even have one meal apart from him without making love eyes at each other across the hall. It’s disgusting,” Daphne teases, pretending to gag.

Y/N flips her off, not bothering to break eye contact with George. Ever since they started dating Y/N and George have eaten every meal together, taking turns at which house table they sit at. But since it’s the night before the first Quidditch match George had opted to sit at the Gryffindor table without Y/N, so that Angelina could go over a few last-minute things with the team. He’s supposed to be listening to whatever Angelina is saying, but with how focused he is on her, Y/N knows whatever she’s saying is going in one ear and out the other. Adrian and Marcus join them then, and Y/N finally breaks eye contact with George, since Adrian sits right in their line of sight.

“You guys ready for tomorrow?” Daphne asks as they start to pile food on their plates. Snape had given the whole Slytherin Quidditch team permission to skip their afternoon lessons so they could get one last practice in on the field before tomorrow’s game. And both boys look exhausted, but also excited.

Marcus nods happily, “Oh yeah, Gryffindor is going down, no doubt about it.” He turns to grin at Y/N. “No offense to you or your boy toy, of course.”

Y/N flips Marcus off. “He’s not my boy toy, he’s my boyfriend, there’s a difference, moron. And there’s no need to be jealous, Marcus. I know it’s hard to watch me and George be together and I’m sure someday Daph will want to kiss you when she’s sober.”

Adrian laughs, prompting Marcus to hit him in the back of the head. “Don’t get feisty with me because Y/N is right. Oh, that reminds me.” Adrian reaches into his bag and pulls out one of his Quidditch jumpers. “Here, for tomorrow. I probably won’t see you before the game.”

“Oh, um. I don’t need it.” All three of her friends give Y/N a look and she puts down her fork. “I’m gonna wear George’s jumper tomorrow.”

Daphne frowns. “But you always wear Adrian’s. And I wear Marcus’. It’s a tradition, Y/N.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “It’s just a sweater, Daph. You’re acting like I’m stabbing him in the back or something.”

Adrian huffs and puts the sweater back in his bag. “If it’s just a damn sweater then why are you wearing Weasley’s? Didn’t know you stopped making decisions for yourself when he started shagging you.”

Y/N whips her roll at Adrian’s head. “You’re lucky there’s a table in between us Adrian or I’d break your fucking arm. Why are you being such a dick? George is my boyfriend and he asked me to wear his jumper. It doesn’t mean anything to me, but it does to him, and I love him so I’m going to wear it.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Adrian apologizes. “It just annoys me that things are changing. It used to be just us four. Now it’s always us four and George.”

Y/N sighs. As much as she hates to admit it, Adrian is right. They’ve operated as a foursome ever since the first train ride to Hogwarts, when they were all just scared 11-year olds. Throwing George into the mix has changed their dynamic and she’s sure it’s been hard on all of them to adjust. “I’m sorry. It’s not like I planned on getting a boyfriend, it just kinda happened. I’ll wear your jumper to every other Slytherin game, okay?”

“Guess it’ll do,” Adrian settles, taking a bite out of the roll Y/N threw.

“Woo! Let’s go George! That’s my boy!” Y/N shouts, causing the Slytherins around her to all glare. Harry has just caught the snitch meaning of course, Gryffindor has won. Y/N turns to Daphne who’s pouting next to her and shapes her fingers in the form of an L. “Sorry, Slyther-losers. Good luck winning the Quidditch cup now!”

Daphne rolls her eyes and scoffs. “You’re a Slytherin too, you realize that, right?”

“Not today!” Y/N pulls her Slytherin knit cap off her head and shoves it into her jacket pocket as she unzips it to show off the red and gold jumper she’s wearing. “I’m a Gryffindor today, baby! Now come on let’s go, you can go make sure Marcus doesn’t drown himself in the showers and I can give George the congratulatory blow job I promised.”

“Ew! Way too much information, Y/N,” Daphne grimaces.

Y/N laughs as they start to head down to the pitch, unable to keep the smile off of her face. George looks hot just sitting there doing nothing, so seeing him whiz around the field hitting bludgers has left Y/N feeling dizzy with a swarm of butterflies in her stomach. He was gripping his bat so hard his knuckles were turning white, and the veins on his hand were visible from her seat in the stands. He looked so powerful up there on his broom, and it’s a sight Y/N never wants to forget.

When Y/N and Daphne finally reach the ground she’s about to breakaway to sneak into the Gryffindor changing room, when Daphne grabs her arm. “What?”

“Look!” Daphne insists, directing Y/N’s attention towards the outskirts of the pitch.

Y/N swallows the lump that has appeared in the back of her throat. Angelina, Katie and Alicia are holding onto Fred, who’s desperately fighting against them, a dark look on his face. George has an identical look on his face, and he’s trying to throw Harry off of him. Draco is standing in front of them, and while Y/N can’t hear what he’s saying, she knows it’s nothing nice. “That can’t be good.” Her and Daphne rush over, just as Marcus and Adrian start to approach.

“Get back up to the castle,” Marcus directs not even bothering to look at them.

Daphne hesitates, but Y/N grabs Adrian’s arm. “What are you guys doing?”

“We’re gonna back up Malfoy, obviously. You heard Marcus, get out of here.” Adrian tries to shake Y/N off, but she tightens her grip on him. “I’m serious, Y/N. Go back to the castle. Whatever is about to happen is not going to be pretty.”

Y/N looks over at George. Harry now looks just as angry and is struggling to hold onto George’s Quidditch robes. They’re close enough now that Y/N can hear the tone of Draco’s voice, and it’s dripping with cockiness. George’s fists are clenched at his sides, like he’s preparing to knock Draco’s lights out. She’s never seen George like this, and while it turns her on to no end, it also scares the shit out of her. She lets go of Adrian’s arm and starts heading towards George to try and stop whatever this is that’s about to go down.

It’s Adrian’s turn to stop Y/N, and he wraps his arms around Y/N’s waist. “Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re about to put yourself in the middle of a blood bath.”

“Let me go, Adrian! As much as I would love to watch George beat the shit out of Draco this is not the time or the place.” She tries to break free from Adrian’s grip just as George finally looks away from Draco. Their eyes meet for a brief moment, but Y/N doesn’t miss the pure rage in them. George’s eyes drop to where Adrian is gripping her and before anyone can do anything George is lunging at Draco, punching him straight in the jaw.

“What did I tell you?” Adrian growls as he starts to pull Y/N back towards the castle.

Y/N lets Adrian drag her away as watches in horror at the scene unfolding in front of her. Harry has joined in the fight as well, and he and George are on the ground on top of Draco. Fists are flying everywhere and every time one connects with a body Y/N’s stomach lurches. After what seems like an eternity Madam Hooch and several professors are descending on the scene and their view is completely cut off.

Y/N takes the stairs up to Gryffindor tower two at a time, desperately in need of seeing George. It’s been a few hours since the debacle that went down on the Quidditch pitch and Draco has just finished bragging about the event after getting back from the Hospital Wing. What Y/N had wanted to do was grab Draco and hang him in the dungeons from his ankle, but instead she stormed out of the common room in search of George. His punishment is severe, and all she wants to do his hug him close.

“Oh thank god,” Y/N greets Ginny as she reaches the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. She really hadn’t thought about how she was going to get in until she was already halfway up the staircase. Y/N had planned on just standing around until a Gryffindor showed up, so she’s truly thankful that Ginny is already there.

Ginny smiles at Y/N and pushes the Fat Lady Portrait open. “When George got back I figured it would only be a matter of time before you came to find him. He’s up in his dorm”

When Y/N steps into the common room it’s dead quiet. Gryffindor’s parties are notorious around school, and Y/N knows that if the match had ended differently there would be a rager going on right now. Fred is starting daggers at Y/N, and she can feel her face heating up as she heads up towards George’s dorm. Fred is still not the biggest fan of her relationship with George, but he’s usually less obvious about his feelings towards Y/N.

Y/N takes a deep breath as she reaches the seventh-year dorm and she knocks quietly. “George? Georgie? It’s me. Can I come in? ”When George doesn’t say anything, she frowns and pushes the door open anyway. “Georgie,” she coos as she enters, shutting the door behind her tightly. George is sitting on the edge of his bed shirtless, facing away from her. His shoulders are tense, and it makes Y/N’s chest ache.

“How did you get in here?” he asks firmly, not bothering to look at her.

Y/N bites her lip and starts to tentatively walk towards him. “Ginny let me in, she was waiting for me, actually.” She stops when she’s a few steps away from him. “Are you okay?” she asks softly.

George huffs. “What do you think?” His tone is sharp, and Y/N can feel tears welling up in her eyes. She figured he would be upset, but she has no idea why he’s upset with her.

“I can’t believe that toad banned you guys from Quidditch. Actually I can believe it, she’s fucking awful.” When George doesn’t say anything Y/N starts to play with her fingers. “Will you talk to me George, please?”

“I don’t have anything to say to you, Y/N. Just go hug Adrian or whatever it is you do when I’m not around.”

Y/N frowns and goes to kneel behind George on the bed. She reaches out slowly and places her hand on his shoulder. “Georgie what are you talking about? You’re the only one I wanna be with. Every second of every day. You know that.”

“Do I?” George asks as he stands up and turns to face her. “Because you two looked pretty cozy today down on the pitch.”

Y/N lets her eyes drag over George’s face. His eyes are dark and narrow, reminiscent of the way he was looking at Draco earlier. His lip is busted open and he’s got a pretty daunting black eye, but he still looks like George. “We weren’t hugging down there, George. Is that what you thought that was?”

“That’s what it looked like, Y/N. His arms around your waist like that. Only I’m allowed to touch you like that,” George growls, his fists clenching. “If you hadn’t been standing in front of him I would have broken his jaw, not Malfoy’s.”

“You’re such a fucking idiot, George,” Y/N spits, suddenly feeling angry. Although she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t turned on a little as well. Seeing George so angry and possessive has ignited a pit of arousal in her stomach. “He wasn’t hugging me. He was keeping me from throwing myself at you to keep you from hitting Draco. You know if it wasn’t for Adrian you could have hurt me, George.”

“I’ll be sure to go thank him then,” George sneers. “God, Y/N how can you be so daft. He’s clearly in love with you. I’m sure he was just looking for some excuse to touch you.”

“You can’t be serious George. We’ve talked about this. Adrian and I have never and will never have feelings for each other.” Y/N gets off the bed and comes around so she’s standing in front of George. “And you know what even if Adrian does have feelings for me I don’t return them. I’m in love with you, you big fat fucking moron. So quit it with this jealousy crap, George.”

George suddenly grabs Y/N’s hips and pulls her into his chest harshly before leaning down and kissing her hard. “I’m not jealous,” he insists as he pushes her back onto his bed. “But you’re mine, Y/N. And I’m gonna make sure every person in this school knows that. Especially that prick Adrian.”

“God, George. You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad.” Y/N sits up and wraps her hand around George’s necking, pulling him in to a desperate kiss. She lays back against the bed as George forces his tongue into her mouth, pulling him on top of her.

George starts to bite and suck on Y/N’s neck, feeling the need to mark her up as much as possible. He wants there to be no doubt in anyone’s mind who Y/N belongs to when he’s done with her. He nibbles along the underside of her jaw, leaving small purple bruises in his wake. “You look so fucking hot in my jumper, Y/N. Such a shame I’m gonna have to take it off.”

George’s hands have started to run up under the jumper, his cold hands shocking her warm skin. “Then don’t,” she gasps as George bites the crook of her neck harshly. “Leave it on while you fuck me, please. It smells like you, Georgie.” Y/N moans and tangles her hands in his hair as George starts to cup her bare breasts, his calloused thumbs rubbing harshly at her nipples.

“That desperate for me already, darling? So needy for me that you wanna be able to smell me while I ruin your pretty pussy with my cock?” George pinches Y/N’s nipples hard, smirking as her back arches up off of the bed.

“Please, George,” Y/N moans, tugging on his hair. “Just wanna be your good girl.”

Y/N’s words send a shiver down George’s spine and he kisses her briefly. “You sure you wanna be my good girl? ‘Cause the way you’ve been talking makes it seem like you wanna be a bad girl.”

“Yes, George. Always wanna be your good girl, wanna be so good for you.”

George pulls away from Y/N completely and sits up, starting to fumble with the button of his trousers. “If you wanna be my good girl so bad, then you’re gonna use that pretty little mouth to show me just how good you can be.”

Y/N sits up and bats George’s hands away, undoing his trousers and shoving them down to his thighs along with his boxers. She practically drools as his hard cock pops out, and Y/N immediately wraps one of her hands around it and starts to stroke him lightly, while her other hand pulls George down into a searing kiss.

George grabs Y/N’s face in his hands as he lays back onto the bed to keep their lips connected as she settles in between his thighs. He groans as Y/N’s thumb starts to swipe over the tip of his cock and he pulls away from her mouth, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as he does. He watches it snap back into place, a little redder and plumper before and he starts to shove her head downwards. “Go on then, Y/N. Wrap those pretty lips around me so I can fuck your throat.”

Y/N immediately settles on her knees between George’s thighs, gripping the base of his cock tightly as she takes him into her mouth. She loves it when George is rough with her and tells her what to do. Seeing him jealous and angry turns her on to no end, and she can already feel her wetness coating her thighs. Y/N takes him down as far as she can, moaning when he gathers her hair in a ponytail and gives it a sharp tug. His hips jut up, shoving his cock farther down into her throat, and Y/N braces one of her hands on George’s hip while the other fists his bed sheets.

“Oh fucking hell,” George moans as Y/N looks up at him from under her eyelashes. “Look so fucking pretty like that, darling, with your mouth wrapped around my cock. You love sucking my cock, don’t you Y/N?” She hums around him, and George’s hips surge upwards, burying the rest of his cock between her lips. Y/N gags as he hits the back of her throat and George uses his grip on her hair to keep her there for a moment before he pulls her off slightly.

Y/N lets her tongue run up against the underside of George’s cock as he starts to thrust into her mouth and as his hand guides her head. George shoves the tip of his cock into the back of her throat with each thrust, and Y/N can feel tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes with each gag. She makes sure to pay attention to the tip of his cock every time he pulls her back, letting her tongue flick at it and collect the precum that’s started to bubble up at the top.

George picks up the speed of his hips, groaning as drool starts to dribble down Y/N’s chin. “Always suck me so well, Y/N. Such a good girl for me.” George let’s his cock hit the back of Y/N’s throat one more time, before he pulls her off completely. He wipes some of the drool off of her chin with his thumb and cleans it off on his pant leg. “Thank you, baby for getting my cock nice and wet, perfect for me to fuck you with. Go on then, get on your hands and knees.”

Y/N gets into position as George gets off of the bed to take his bottoms fully off. She feels George push the bottom of his jumper up, so it bunches around her hips and she moans as his large hands grab her ass. The bed shifts as he settles in behind her, his hands tugging at the fabric of her leggings.

“George!” she gasps as his hands tear a whole in her bottoms, suddenly exposing her bare core to the cold air of the room.

“No panties?” George asks as he shoves two fingers into her wet heat. Y/N moans as her walls clench around his digits and George starts to slowly fuck her with them. “Such a dirty fucking whore you are, Y/N. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to use you like a little fuck toy, like you’re just a warm wet hole for me to bury my cock in. Isn’t that right?”

“Please,” Y/N begs as George’s fingers curl and finally brush up against her g-spot. George has never been this lewd with her, and she can still hear the anger in his voice. “Please, Georgie,” she whines, pushing back against his hand.

George smacks Y/N’s ass hard with his free hand, revealing in the moan that leaves her lips. “Answer me, Y/N. If you wanna cum tonight you’ll be a good girl and use your words. You’re just a warm wet hole for me to fuck and ruin, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, George, yes,” Y/N pants as his thumb starts to rub her clit.

George bites his lip as Y/N’s thighs and arms start to shake, and he smacks her ass again. “And you love being my dirty little fuck toy, don’t you?”

Y/N moans as George curls his fingers again, nodding wildly. “Love it so much Georgie, please. Wanna be your good girl, wanna make you feel good.”

In one fluid motion, George removes his fingers from Y/N’s core, grabs her hips and slams his cock into her, his hips moving until he’s buried completely inside of her. “Always so fucking tight for me darling,” George groans as he starts to move his hips. He sets a relentless pace, fucking into Y/N hard and fast. “I want to hear every little noise that comes out of you as I fuck you, understand? Want this whole fucking school to know just how good I make you feel.”

“So fucking big George, holy fuck,” Y/N moans. “Always fuck me so good, Georgie. No one can ever make me feel as good as you do, love your cock so much.” Unable to hold herself up from the pleasure coursing through her veins, Y/N falls forward onto her forearms, arching her back for George. The new positions allows him to slip even deeper inside of her, and she clenches her walls around George as she whines. “Right there, oh fuck. Harder George please. I need you,” she begs.

George tightens his grip on Y/N’s hips and slams into her harder. Normally George prefers to take things slow, but he still has the image of Adrian’s arms around Y/N’s waist and he wants to fuck her so hard that he forgets it completely. “Such a dirty fucking whore, Y/N. Begging for me to ruin you.”

“George,” Y/N groans as his thumb starts rubbing harsh circles on her clit. The tip of his cock rubs her g-spot with every thrust and her hips start to push back against him as her orgasm starts to build. Her body feels like it’s on fire and she can’t help the noises that come out of her mouth with each of George’s thrusts. “Please, George. Been such a good girl. Can I? Can I come George, please?”

George grunts as Y/N clenches around him even tighter, trying to keep his own orgasm at bay. “I don’t know if you deserve it, darling. Fuck toys don’t get to cum, do they? And that’s all you are, isn’t it? Just a little fuck to for me to use for my pleasure?”

“Please, please, please,” Y/N babbles as tears start to stream down her cheeks. She’s teetering on the edge of her climax and all she needs is for George to allow her to feel it. Pleasure is moving like an electric shock through her body and she desperately wants to let go. “Georgie, please,” she begs, the desperation clear in her voice. “I’m all yours, only yours please. Only want you, George. Please, please, let me cum.”

“Fuck that’s right, Y/N. You’re mine,” George growls. “Forever. Understand that? No one’s ever going to touch you or kiss you or fuck you ever again. Just me, only me. Go on then, baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”

Y/N cries out George’s name as she cums, her whole body shaking as pleasure courses through her. She collapses against the bed as her chest heaves with heavy pants, her body feeling like it’s floating. George’s hips have started to stutter as his own orgasm approaches, and Y/N clenches around him to help bring him to his climax. “Fill me up George, please. Claim me, make me yours forever.”

“Fucking hell, baby.” George collapses against Y/N’s back as he cums, his orgasm rocketing through his body. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum this hard before, and his hips slowly roll as he twitches inside of Y/N. Once he’s finished releasing inside of her George slowly pulls out and collapses on the bed next to Y/N. Silent tears are still rolling down her cheeks and George immediately pulls her into his chest. “I went too far didn’t I? Fuck I’m so sorry Y/N.”

Y/N sniffles as George starts to stroke her hair and press soft kisses all over her face. “They’re good tears Georgie I promise. It was incredible, honestly, love.”

George wipes away a few of the tears before he pulls Y/N in for a passionate kiss. Their lips move together slowly, and George starts to gently rub her back. “I would never be able to forgive myself if I hurt you. I love you, Y/N, so much.”

“I love you too, Georgie. Forever, yeah?”

George pulls Y/N closer to his body and kisses the top of her forehead, praying that the anger he still feels in his chest goes away. “Forever.”

Despite the fact that George had promised her forever that night, Y/N can’t help but feel that they’re starting to drift apart. With their lifetime Quidditch ban in full effect, George and Fred have started to put even more time into their Weasley products and Y/N feels like she barely sees George anymore. He still walks her to class holding her hand tightly and he’s always sure to remind her that he loves her, but they no longer eat meals together and Y/N can’t remember the last time George begged her to skive off her homework to fool around in the room of requirement. But she’s happy that he’s found something to put his extra time into, so she doesn’t think too much is wrong until George misses their next Saturday morning meeting.

“What’s wrong?” Adrian asks as Y/N slumps over to the Slytherin table. Most Saturdays Y/N’s friends don’t see her until lunch time, so they’re all surprised as she falls into her seat next to Adrian.

Y/N sighs and starts to put random food onto her plate, not really feeling like eating. “George never showed this morning. We were supposed to meet in the room of requirement and I just sat there for thirty minutes feeling like an idiot.”

“You mean your prince charming stood you up? Guess things aren’t as happy in the kingdom as they seem,” Marcus teases. Daphne smacks him upside the head, prompting him to frown. “I was just trying to make her smile Daph no need to try and take my head off.”

“You’re an idiot, Marcus,” Daphne scolds before turning her attention back to Y/N. “I thought something was up with you guys, but I didn’t want to say anything. I feel like I’ve barely seen you two together this past week. George is usually always hovering around you, I mean he practically worships the ground you walk on. You guys get into a fight or something?”

Y/N shrugs, picking at her muffin. “He was pretty pissed after what happened last weekend at the Quidditch match. When Adrian was trying to hold me back from going over there he thought we were hugging or something. I don’t know, he was really angry though. But I thought we uh, worked it out if you get what I mean. But clearly not.”

“What a git. He managed to score the hottest girl in school and yet he still managed to fuck it up,” Adrian murmurs, putting his arm around Y/N’s middle. “You deserve better than him, Y/N.”

Y/N rests her head against Adrian’s shoulder and sighs. “He’s all I’ve ever wanted. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“Don’t look now,” Daphne whispers, leaning over the table. “He just walked in with Fred, act natural.”

Y/N ruffles Adrian’s hair as she sits up, trying to pretend that she can’t feel George’s eyes starting at the back of her head.

George slams his quill down on the table, running his hand through his hair. “Fucking bullshit. No matter how many times I calculate it the numbers just don’t match up.”

“Will you chill out? It’s not that big of a deal we can work on that shit later,” Fred urges, watching George carefully. “What’s got your panties in a twist lately? I’ve never seen you this worked up.”

It’s Saturday afternoon, and Fred and George are tucked away in a corner of the common room, working on stuff for their joke shop. George has been trying to work on an input output expense sheet, but all of the numbers keep blurring together and he can’t seem to figure out how to make them balance. It probably has something to do with the fact that things between him and Y/N aren’t quite right, but he doesn’t want to think about that.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” George says flatly, looking back over the sheet in front of him.

Fred sighs and leans back in his seat. “You’re a shit liar, you know that? And I do have eyes, you know. Something’s going on with you and Y/N and you’re clearly upset about it. And I’m not going to stop asking about it until you tell me so just spill it so we can get back to work.”

“I’ve just been so angry with her lately, like constantly. Every time I’m around her it just flares up in my chest and I have this urge to just, I dunno. Yell at her.” George pauses. “I mean did you see the way he was touching her today? I wanted to storm over there and rip him away.”

Fred knits his eyebrows together. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Adrian,” George clarifies, his voice dark. “He’s always touching her, and Y/N just lets him. Even though she knows how I feel about him. Did you know I had to beg her to wear my Quidditch jumper to the game last week? And do you know why? Because she always wears Adrian’s,” he mocks. “I’m her bloody boyfriend and I had to beg her not to wear another guys jumper, it’s ridiculous.”

Fred reaches out and puts a comforting hand on George’s shoulder. “You’re my brother and I care about you, please try and remember that as I say the next thing. You’re a fucking idiot, George. I know I’m not Y/N’s biggest fan, but it’s clear that she cares about you. The way that she looks at you George, even when you’re not paying attention it’s like you’re the only thing in the world she cares about. I don’t think she means any harm when she’s like that with Adrian and deep down you know that too. I mean they’ve always been like that. Remember when you guys got detention before you were together? He showed up to walk her back to the common room and he gave her a piggyback ride. It’s not like they’ve just started being close. I don’t think I ever saw her away from Adrian or any of her friends until you guys started dating. Whatever you’re feeling is all in your head.”

“It doesn’t feel all in my head. The way he looks at her, it’s not the way someone looks at a person who’s just a friend,” George insists.

Fred rolls his eyes. “Okay so say Adrian does have feeling for Y/N. He’s clearly very deep in the friend zone. We all heard you guys last weekend, screaming about how she’s yours forever or whatever. Nearly made me throw up in my mouth, mate.”

George punches Fred’s shoulder lightly. “Fuck off. Y/N said the same thing but-“

“See! There you go,” Fred interjects, cutting George off. “Y/N said it herself. She’s in love with you, not Adrian. So, stop being an idiot and go apologize to her before she realizes what a dolt you are and ends it for good.”

George does leave the common room then, fully intending to go and see Y/N. He still feels angry deep in his chest, but his need to be close to her overwhelms all of it. That is until he finds Y/N in the library, her head titled back in a laugh at something Adrian has said. The anger in George’s chest flares as she pushes him playfully, a wide smile on her face that’s usually reserved for George.

Y/N can tell something has gone wrong, when there’s no Weasley’s in attendance at breakfast on Monday morning. They had all been a dinner the night before, and one Weasley not being around is perfectly normal. Even two being absent is normal if it’s Fred and George. But all four of them is unheard of, especially when Harry never shows up for breakfast either. She tries to keep herself calm, thinking that maybe they’re just doing something for the DA or planning some revenge on Umbridge. But when lunch comes around and Y/N has yet to see George or Fred in class and there hasn’t been a single streak of red hair floating around the halls, Y/N makes a beeline for the Gryffindor table where Hermione is sitting alone.

“Hey, what’s going on? Where’s George and everyone else. I haven’t seen them since dinner last night,” Y/N asks as she takes a seat next to Hermione. When Hermione finally looks at Y/N there’s a worried expression on her features and it makes Y/N’s stomach drop.

“George didn’t owl you?” When Y/N shakes her head, Hermione leans forward to whisper in her ear. “I can’t say too much, Dumbledore’s orders. But something happened and Mr. Weasley was badly injured, he’s in St. Mungo’s. George and the rest of the Weasley’s along with Harry took a portkey home last night, Dumbledore gave them all permission to start winter break a few days early.”

Y/N frowns, a mixture of emotions flowing through her body. On one hand she’s worried about George’s dad and how he’s coping with everything. And on the other she’s hurt that George didn’t feel comfortable enough to reach out to her and tell her what’s going on. Y/N had hoped they could make things right before being a part for two weeks, but it seems that the wedge between them is only being pushed farther and farther apart.

“Is he going to be okay? Mr. Weasley? God George must be freaking out.”

Hermione shrugs. “I haven’t heard anything yet, Harry sent an owl when they got to their destination last night. They hadn’t heard much yet, but I’m sure he’s in good hands at St. Mungos. And I’m sure George will reach out soon, Y/N. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Y/N gives Hermione a small smile before she goes to join her friends, a pit of despair growing in her stomach.

“It’s Christmas eve, Y/N. You’ve been held up in your room sending letters all break, can’t you give it a rest for a few days? I’m sure Daphne or Adrian will understand if they don’t get any letters from you for a bit,” Y/N’s mother says, reaching over to grab the quill from her hand.

It’s been a week since George’s father was attacked, and Y/N has been sending him letters nearly nonstop without hearing anything in return. Her owl always comes back with an empty beak, so she knows he’s been getting the letters, and her heart hurts every time he doesn’t respond. She just wants to know if he’s okay, if there’s anything she can do for him. Y/N knows she’s been ignoring her parents a little too much, but she can’t think about anything except for George.

“I’m not writing to Daphne or Adrian,” Y/N huffs, finally looking up at her parents. They’re sitting at the table having lunch together, or at least her parents are. Y/N’s owl had turned up without a response from George just before food was ready, and Y/N wants to send another to him as soon as possible.

“Well then who have you been writing too?” her father asks. “I don’t think I’ve seen you write this much in your entire life.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, a pink blush appearing on her cheeks. “George Weasley,” she mumbles, looking away.

“George Weasley? Y/N whatever prank that boy pulled on you can be dealt with when you get back to school. There’s no need to be going on and on with him over break,” her mother tuts with a shake of her head.

Y/N’s parents have spent much of their time over the past few years listening to Y/N complain endlessly about both Weasley Twins, so it doesn’t surprise her that her mother thinks her letters to George are out of anger instead of love. Especially since she’s yet to tell them about their relationship.

“Actually, George is my, um. He’s my boyfriend,” Y/N mutters, sheepishly looking back at her parents. They both look shocked and she rolls her eyes. “Don’t look so surprised, I’m a great catch, of course I have a boyfriend.”

Y/N’s father laughs. “Sweetie we’re not shocked that you have a boyfriend, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world of course. But I’m going to be honest, George Weasley is the last person I thought you’d end up with. Last we heard you hated the very sight of him.”

“Well not anymore. I love him, so much. He’s been going through some stuff recently and I just want to make sure he’s okay,” Y/N explains. She makes sure to leave out the part that she thinks he’s going to break up with her when they get back to school, since she’d much rather ignore that for now. “Can I just finish this one letter, please? And then I won’t send another until boxing day, I promise.”

Her mother sighs and reluctantly hands her back the quill. “Fine, just one more letter. But seriously no more until boxing day. Not only is it the holidays but your poor owl needs a few days to rest.”

“You should write her back you know,” Ginny comments as she sits down next to George.

George hums, gripping Y/N’s most recent letter in his hands. His chest aches at how sad she sounds, but he can’t bring himself to pick up a quill and write her back. “I don’t know what to say.”

Ginny rolls her eyes. “How about I’m a big fat idiot and the second I see you again I’m going to fall to my knees and beg for your forgiveness? That’s probably a good place to start.”

“Dunno why I have to be the one to apologize,” he mutters, wincing when Ginny smacks him upside the head. “What the hell was that for, Gin?”

“For you continuing to be a big fat idiot,” Ginny spits. “You’ve been acting like a huge asshole to her lately George that’s why you need to apologize. It only takes a person with half a brain to see how you’ve been pushing her away. So cut the crap. Either apologize to Y/N and beg for her forgiveness or break it off.”

The thought of breaking up with Y/N makes his stomach lurch. There’s no doubt in his mind that he wants to be with her, but it feels like he doesn’t know how to anymore. It seems that whenever Y/N is around Adrian is right there too, and it makes anger flare up in his chest. He knows it’s not rational, but it doesn’t make it any easier to stop feeling that way. George wants Y/N all to himself, as selfish as that may be.

“She’s probably gonna break up with me, so I don’t see the point.” George tosses the letter in his hands onto the coffee table and leans back against the couch. “Who knew being in a relationship would be so difficult?”

“It wouldn’t be so difficult if you just talked to her, git,” Ginny points out. “She’s written you a letter practically every day of break, obviously she cares about you and is worried about you.” Ginny pauses so George will look over at her. “What’s wrong anyway? Thought you guys were doing okay?”

George shrugs. “I can’t stand Adrian and his smug fucking face. He’s just there. Always. Watching her, trying to get close with her. And Y/N just sits there and lets him. You know I caught them together in the library a few nights before Dad was attacked.”

Ginny’s jaw drops. “You caught them hooking up?”

“What? No. They were doing homework,” George explains.

Ginny punches George in the thigh as hard as she can. “You’re a fucking moron, George. Since when is doing homework in the library someone cheating? Or a reason to get mad?”

“It wasn’t just the fact that they were doing homework. They were sitting next to each other and he was making her laugh,” George huffs, as if Ginny is the one being unreasonable.

“You’re joking, right?” When George doesn’t say anything, Ginny rolls her eyes. “Since when are you this insecure, George? Y/N is crazy about you. And Adrian is her friend, of course he’s gonna be around.” She bites her lip. “I think you’ve been putting too much thought into this George.”

George sits there for a moment, letting Ginny’s words sink in. Perhaps he has been getting a bit ahead of himself. Something about seeing Y/N with Adrian when he was so worked up over what Draco had been saying must have twisted something in his mind. He had felt jealous about Adrian before that, but never in a way that made him question his relationship with Y/N. Usually all it takes is one look from Y/N and all of his ill thoughts flush away. But lately it seems nothing can calm him down. He’s been putting distance between them in the hopes that his anger would finally go away, but as soon as it feels like he’s back to normal the second Y/N is in his vicinity with Adrian it all comes rushing back.

“I think I have been too,” he admits quietly. “It doesn’t feel real, sometimes. That Y/N is actually mine. I thought I only started developing feelings for her this year, but I think I’ve felt things for her for a while, I was just too stubborn to realize it. And now that I have her I want her all to myself. Like if I share her with other people she might just disappear from my life completely.”

Ginny reaches out to pat George on the shoulder. “Then tell her all of that, George. Because it’s actually kind of sweet in a weird way. Y/N loves you, George. And I know you love her. I don’t want to see either of you get hurt because you don’t have the balls to just talk to your girlfriend.”

“What a pep talk you give, Gin,” George chuckles. “But you’re right. I’m gonna talk to her, first chance I get. This is too much to put into a letter. I wanna be able to look at her while I talk to her.”

“Great. Now will you stop being so miserable? It’s really killing the Christmas spirit,” Ginny teases, ruffling his hair.

“Are things with George getting any better?” Daphne asks from her spot on Y/N’s bed. Her parents had decided to do some traveling in the new year, and Y/N’s parents allowed Daphne to finish up the last few days of break at their house.

Y/N shakes her head, flopping down next to her. “Nope. I haven’t heard a thing all break. Every time Aries comes back his beak is empty. So, he’s clearly reading my letters and he can’t be bothered to write back.”

Daphne puts her arm around Y/N and tosses the copy of Witch Weekly she’d been reading off of the bed. “What a fucking prick. I haven’t said much about it because I love you and you’re my best friend and I know he means a lot to you, but Adrian was right. You do deserve better, Y/N. Your boyfriend should be worshiping you, not ignoring you.”

Y/N hadn’t told anyone about George’s dad, and she’s sure he’d get a bit more sympathy from Daphne if she knew, but if Hermione couldn’t even tell her how his Dad got hurt Y/N is sure she shouldn’t tell anyone about it at all. And besides, Hermione had owled the day after Christmas to let her know that Mr. Weasley was home and recovering well. George’s lack of communication cut Y/N deeper after hearing that.

“I think he’s going to break up with me,” Y/N admits out loud for the first time, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I love him so much and I thought he loved me too, but I don’t know. It’s like overnight things changed between us and I’m the only one trying to fix it.”

Daphne pulls Y/N in tight and hugs her. “This is the second time you’ve cried over George being an asshat and my offer still stands. I will have Adrian and Marcus beat him up.”

“The last time I cried over George he was only being an asshat in my head. But now, I’m sure he’s being an asshat in real life too,” Y/N sniffles. “God I wish break lasted just a little bit longer. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I see him on that stupid train tomorrow.”

Daphne starts to stroke Y/N’s hair and wipes away a few of her tears. “Well just say the word and I’ll have Adrian and Marcus on him before he can even say Quidditch.”

When Y/N and Daphne get on platform 9 ¾ the next morning George’s shock of red hair is the first thing she sees. She forces herself to stay focused on her parents as they say goodbye, no matter how badly she wants to look over at him. Her heart feels like it’s going to beat out of her chest, and all she really wants to do is sneak onto the train and to her friends without running into any Weasley. But of course, the second she’s on the train she walks smack into a hard, familiar chest.

“Trying to mow me down?” George teases, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist.

It reminds Y/N of when they were still dancing around each other, too scared to admit their feelings, and it punches a hole in her chest. “Hi, George.” Y/N pushes away from him and starts to walk away, but George’s hand wraps around her wrist and pulls her back towards him. “What?” she asks flatly, looking up at him. Her eyes catch something shiny stuck to the scarf he’s wearing, and Y/N bites her lip to keep from smiling. “You got your Christmas present I see.”

She had wanted to get him something big and flashy for their first Christmas together. But everything she considered just didn’t seem special or sentimental enough. She had found it in some muggle store in London while shopping with her Mum, and even though it was tiny and simple, it was the perfect thing. It’s a little enamel pin in the shape of a teapot. The hours she spent with George scrubbing teapots is the foundation of their relationship, it was after that night that she first started falling in love with him.

George bites his lip and reaches out to cup her cheek. “I was an asshole to you. And you have every right to be super mad at me. But can we go talk somewhere, please?”

Y/N nods and lets George grab her hand and take her over to an empty compartment. It’s clear to her that she and George have some issues they need to work out, but she’s happy to just enjoy some time with him for now. They haven’t been alone together in nearly three weeks, and she’s been dying for his attention. She takes a seat as George closes the door behind them and pulls him down next to her once he’s close enough.

“I have a lot of things to say and I don’t know if they’re going to come out right so please just stick with me while I try and say them, okay?” George takes a deep breath and reaches out to grab Y/N’s hands in his. “I’ve missed you so much these past few weeks, even before break. I think Draco knocked something loose in my head when he punched me, I’ve just been so angry since that day, and I don’t really know why. Just seeing you and Adrian together fills me with rage. And I know it shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I don’t know what I would do without you. I just kept getting in my head about everything and it made me not treat you the best. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Then why push me away, George? Why not answer one of my stupid letters? I’ve been losing my mind here, trying to figure out what’s going on in that head of yours. I meant what I said that night, I’m yours forever, Weasley.”

George sighs and leans down to press a lingering kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “I started over analyzing everything and I couldn’t tell what was real and what was going on in my head. You mean so much to me, and the thought of losing you made me go even crazier.” George pauses so he can tuck a stray piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear. “I should have written to you and at least let you know I was okay, I’m sorry for that. But this is a conversation I didn’t want to have in a letter. I wanted to be able to see you and hold you.”

“It’s okay, George. I guess when we started dating there was some stuff we should have talked about that we kind of just ignored and that’s partially my fault. I just tried to integrate you into my life that already existed, when in reality we should have started something new together,” Y/N explains, squeezing his hands. “Adrian and I are closer than normal friends, and I can see why that would concern you. Same thing with the sweater. Of course, you’d want me to wear yours, I shouldn’t have even questioned it. I’m sorry, George. I’ll try and do better too, okay? Because I love you and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“I love you so, so much. And I’ve been really shit at showing it. I meant what I said that night too, Y/N. Forever.” George leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips, melting when she returns it. “I don’t deserve you.” George kisses her again, winding his arms around her. “Alright, I think now is the perfect time to give you your Christmas present.”

Y/N holds her hands out, bouncing up and down excitedly. “Come on then, let’s see what you got me!”

George rolls his eyes playfully and takes a long black box out of his jacket pocket. “I do want to preface this by saying that I bought this ages ago before I got your present in the mail, and they do say great minds think alike.”

“You got me a tea pot pin too?” she teases, taking the box from George. A quiet gasp leaves her lips as she opens the box, and she gives George a small smile. “George it’s perfect.” Inside the box is a delicate silver chain with two charms attached. One is in the shape of the letter G and the other is a teapot. “Although I find it quite funny that we both got each other teapot related items.”

“Well that’s the night it all began, isn’t it?” George ask as he takes the box from Y/N. He grabs the necklace and motions for her to turn around so he can put it on her. “After that detention I knew I couldn’t live without you, Y/N. Listening to you talk about wanting to be a healer, and how you wanted to change the world, it made me see you differently. Made me start to fall in love with you. Besides I don’t think I could find a charm of a secret passageway.”

Y/N giggles, and as soon as the necklace is on Y/N turns around and pulls George into a kiss, her hand coming up to grip the charms tightly. When George starts to pull away Y/N surges forward to keep their lips pressed together for a few extra moments. “I love you, George. Thank you.”

“Course, darling. Anything for you.” George pulls Y/N into his chest and presses a kiss to the top of her head, the anger he’s felt for so long finally quieting down.

#George weasley #George Weasley imagine #George weasley smut #gw #golden

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crystalninjaphoenix · 3 years ago

Text

Hospitals & Hellos

A JSE Fanfic

Consider this a follow-up to the action of the previous part. A lot happened, including a cliffhanger that really left you dangling >:)c Sorry about that, but also not sorry. Anyway since it’s so closely related, I’m having trouble summarizing it. Basically, Chase and Marvin get some good news, there’s a brief intermission when something else happens, and then we cut back to those in more danger. That may sound confusing but I don’t want to get too spoilery. Read for yourself =)

You can find the other stories under the pw timeline tag!

Chase woke up to the sound of his ringtone, the sensation of someone shaking his shoulder, and the pain in your back and neck that develops when you fall asleep somewhere you’re not supposed to. He groaned, and opened his eyes. Where...? Ah, right. Jack’s hospital room. He fell asleep? For how long? Visiting hours must be almost over by now.

Marvin shook him again, leaning over from his chair next to him. “You keep getting a call,” he said. “You should probably pick it up now.”

“Right.” Chase stretched, wincing a bit at the ache in his body, then dug his phone out of his pocket just as the ringtone ended and the call dropped. But looking at his lock screen, he had three missed calls from one Detective Nix. “Oh shit!” He was immediately awake. “I gotta call back—”

Before he could do that, his phone rang yet again as it received another call from the detective. This time, Chase picked it up instantly. “Hello?”

“Mr. Brody?” asked the somewhat-familiar voice of Detective Nix.

“That’s me. Sorry about all the missed calls, I-I fell asleep.”

“Ah, I see.” Nix sounded amused. “I suppose I have to plan for calling you several times.”

Chase laughed nervously, glancing over at the others. He’d fallen asleep to Marvin teaching Jack the beginnings of BSL, but now both of them were staring at him, listening in to the conversation. Jack was sitting straight up, without leaning against the bed. Marvin kept bouncing his leg. The two of them were clearly anxious. “So...wh-what’s the situation?”

“Well, there’s good news, bad news, and good news,” Nix said. “Which would you like to hear?”

Chase inhaled sharply. “Bad news first.”

“We couldn’t find your friend Henrik. Or the other one who’d been taken a month ago, Jameson.”

“Oh.” Chase’s heart sank. “What’s the good news, then?”

“First things first: your friends’ tips were extremely helpful. We managed to find the house they were talking about,” Nix said. “We didn’t recover many things from the location, but we found something else. Or rather, someone else. Jackie Donovan.”

If his heart sank before, it now rocketed upward into his throat, rendering him speechless. Finally, he managed to get out a strangled, “What?”

“He was in one of the house’s bedrooms, badly injured and tied to a chair, but alive,” Nix continued. “He’s at the hospital now.”

“Which hospital?” Chase asked.

“Southpoint General, in the—”

“Holy shit, we’re literally there right now!” Chase stood up so fast he knocked his chair over. “Where is he?! Can we see him?!”

“He’s recovering in what is, I believe, the emergency ward,” Nix said calmly. “Don’t worry, he’s stable, but as I said, badly injured. Unconscious, actually. Visiting hours are basically over, but if you’re already here, and you insist, you could probably hurry if the staff lets you—”

“That’s what we’ll do, then. We’ll be there as soon as possible!” Chase hung up without saying goodbye, and turned to face the other two.

“What was that all about?” Marvin asked, confused but hopeful.

“They found Jackie!” Chase shouted, unable to contain his overflowing joy and relief. “They got him back, he’s here, at this hospital right now!”

“What?!” Marvin shot to his feet. “We gotta see him!”

“That’s what I said! If we run, we might be able to squeeze in just before visiting hours end.” Chase started to head towards the door, then stopped, and looked back at Jack. “Oh, uh, sorry, you probably want—”

“Go!” Jack waved at the two of them, pointing at the room’s doorway. “Gogogogogo!”

Chase laughed. “Alright, we’re going! I’ll see you in a couple days, probably!”

“Go!”

“Okay, bye!” Chase hurried out the door.

“Bye, Jack!” Marvin added, following Chase.

Jack waved at the two of them as they left.

From there, the two of them hurried to the nurses’ station so they could ask where Jackie was. Once the nurse confirmed he was in the emergency ward and gave them the room number, they practically sprinted to the right wing, desperate to make it before visiting hours were over. They ended up making it just in time, and both skidded to a halt outside the right door, breathing hard.

The door to the hospital room was ajar. An older man leaned over and peered through the doorway. “Ah, hello Mr. Brody.”

“Hello, Detective,” Chase said. He paused for a moment to breathe, then added, “We’re here.”

“I can see that,” Nix replied, smiling a bit. “Well, you and your friend come in. It’s Mr. Maher, isn’t it?”

Marvin nodded. “Yeah. Weren’t you at the trial? You talked about the case?”

“So I did.” Nix nodded.

“Huh. So you’re handling the whole thing?”

“Indeed. It’s turning out to be a complex beast of clues and crime. Anyway.” Nix stepped back, and Chase and Marvin entered the room.

Most of the emergency ward was large rooms with multiple beds, but there must have been certain circumstances in place to let Jackie have his own room to himself. It was small, but a bit more homey than Jack’s room in the ICU, with cushioned chairs and a couple small tables, even a TV in a cubby in a wall. The hospital bed didn’t have as much medical equipment surrounding it. But Jackie wasn’t awake to appreciate any of this.

Chase stopped short, just staring. It was eleven months since he’d last seen Jackie. He hadn’t always been that pale, had he? His collarbone and cheeks hadn’t always jutted out like that, had they? His hair was a shoulder-length mess, having grown out, and his eyes had deep purple bags under them. He was wearing a hospital gown, but there were scars visible on his arms that certainly hadn’t been there before, as well as some bandages wrapped tightly around his right arm above the elbow. Despite all this, he looked rather peaceful in sleep, breathing steadily.

Marvin made a choked sound, unable to say anything else.

“He’s...fine, right?” Chase asked, glancing at Detective Nix.

“The doctors say so,” Nix assured him. “He was injured when we found him, but they say it’s not life-threatening.”

“H-how? How was he injured?” Chase asked hesitantly.

“Well...you can see his arm. His legs are bad, looked like someone used a knife to slash them up. And there was a stab wound in his stomach. But he hadn’t lost too much blood. They say his main problem is malnutrition. He’ll be okay.”

Chase let out a long breath. “Okay. Okay. That’s good. Good to hear.”

Marvin stayed silent. He walked up to the bed and, after a moment, gently took Jackie’s hand.

“I’ll let you two have a moment.” Nix slid out of the room, closing the door behind him.

The moment passed in silence.

——————

The car ride back was silent as well. A lot had happened that day, and the two of them sat, quietly processing everything. They lost Schneep, but found Jackie, each within a few hours of each other. Who knew what would happen tomorrow?

Chase pulled onto the street where Marvin’s house sat, and noticed something odd. “Is there someone outside your house?”

“Hmm?” Marvin, previously spacing out, snapped back to reality. “Why would someone be at my house?”

“I dunno, I assumed you would. Not expecting anyone?” Chase shrugged. “Maybe they’re in front of the neighbors.”

“No.” Marvin narrowed his eyes, staring down the road. “There’s someone at my door. A car in front, too. Who is that? I can’t see them.” He shook his head. “Too dark. The city needs to work on installing stronger street lamps in the area.”

Chase chuckled a bit. As he approached Marvin’s house, he pulled to the side of the road, right behind the strange car that was already there, and tried to get a good look at whoever was at the doorway. A woman. Dark-haired, wearing a brown leather jacket and jeans. She was facing the door, her back to the road, but when the car pulled up she heard the sound and turned to look. Odd...Chase recognized her. But he couldn’t place where he’d seen her before. “You know her?”

“Uh...I don’t think so?” Marvin shook his head, looking confused. “But I think I do? She kinda looks familiar.”

“I was thinking the same thing, actually.” Chase parked the car and opened the door. “C’mon, I want to talk to her.”

“Yeah, let’s ask her what she’s doing at my house at like ten o’clock,” Marvin said, opening his as well and heading out.

The two of them walked up the short path to the door. The woman, noticing them, waved. “Hello! I’m very sorry, ah—one of you is Marvin, right? Actually, you both look—maybe you could both help me? I’m looking for Henrik.”

That voice made Marvin stop in his tracks. “Mina?!”

Chase visibly started as the pieces clicked into place and he remembered who this woman was. Mina von Schneeplestein—or rather, Mina Pfeiffer, as last he heard she was going by her maiden name again. What was Schneep’s ex-wife doing here?!

“Ah, you recognize me, so I have the right address.” Mina nodded, satisfied. “You are Marvin? I saw you on television, I recognize your hair. Though it’s longer than I remember. But to be fair, my memories of faces are vague.”

“You saw me on TV?” Marvin repeated, looking even more confused now that he realized who the woman was.

“Um, hi.” Chase waved awkwardly. “I’m Chase, I’m a friend of Schneep’s. What are you...It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, were you out of town or something?”

“Oh, Chase! I remember you. Yes, I went back home and stayed with family for some time,” Mina said.

“Why are you at my house?” Marvin blurted out.

“Well, ah—sorry about that. It was the only address I could think of.” Mina sounded fairly embarrassed. “I thought you would be home. I am looking for Henrik.”

“Why? We haven’t seen you for more than a year!” Marvin pointed out.

“Yes, I know. It is...a complicated situation.” Mina glanced back at the door behind her. “Should we go inside and sit down?”

“No, I’m fine,” Marvin said. “We can talk about this while standing.”

“...oh. Okay.” Looking even more embarrassed, Mina stepped away from the door, walking a bit closer to the two men. “I suppose this wouldn’t take too long.”

“So you’re looking for Schneep?” Chase asked.

Mina nodded. “Yes. I received some phone messages and mail from this hospital they said he was staying at. But I threw them out. Shortsighted, it would seem.”

“I think I know what you’re referring to,” Chase said. He recalled a conversation he had with Dr. Laurens, where she said they were trying to contact Mina but getting no response. “Did you think they were spam or something?”

“Ah...no, not exactly.” Mina grimaced. “It is really a long story, and it is cold and dark out, so I would prefer if we could step inside—”

“No, tell it quick,” Marvin interrupted.

Mina bristled a bit. “Well!”

“Marv, c’mon,” Chase pleaded.

“Look, no one disappears for a year without a reason,” Marvin insisted. “And something about this seems fishy, so I want to hear the story before I let her into my house with my pets.”

Mina sighed. “I do not see why you are so concerned. Henrik and I are married.”

“You’re divorced.”

“No, they’re separated,” Chase added. “It’s a different thing.” But personally, he still considered them exes, even if the separation had been friendly enough. The pair of them had rushed into marriage, likely due to some family pressure, and later agreed that they needed some time apart to sort their own lives out. That was about three or four years ago, and shortly afterwards Schneep had been diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder. As far as he knew, they hadn’t gotten back together since the separation.

“It’s just weird that you’re showing up looking for him now,” Marvin said, crossing his arms. “Where were you when he first went into Silver Hills?”

“I was out of the country,” Mina repeated.

“On purpose?”

“What?”

“Were you avoiding him?”

Mina looked like she wanted to protest, but then straightened, adjusted her jacket, and said, “If you must know, then yes.”

“Ha!” Marvin barked.

“You must be missing so much of what happened,” Mina said, leveling him with a stare. She was about equal height with the two men, so it wasn’t hard to do. “Henrik and I...were starting to try again. But then his behavior became erratic, and the next thing I knew, he put his friend in a coma and started killing strangers.”

“He wasn’t the one killing them,” Chase corrected gently—mostly to prevent Marvin from saying the same thing, much louder.

“Well I know that now, but at the time, it seemed fairly obvious,” Mina pointed out. “So I left for some time. I returned a couple months ago, but only now heard the news about the truth of the situation. I saw clips from the filmed hearing between you, Marvin, and that doctor. I saw them on television, and realized something was off. So I looked it up, and now I know, and now that I do, I have to talk to Henrik about something.”

“You know...it seems a bit sketchy that you immediately thought he must be the killer,” Marvin said. “Because he was, what, ‘erratic’?”

“Yes,” Mina said firmly.

“You should have realized he would never do anything like that!”

“I wasn’t about to stick around and have blind faith! That is how serial killers draw in women, it has happened in the past!”

“Schneep would never—”

“I did not know that! He was being very strange, and with his condition—”

“Get off my property.”

Mina blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Marvin leaned close to her. “Get off my property.”

“No, you do not understand, I really must know how to talk to Henrik,” Mina said, tone shifting from defensive anger to a strange desperation. “There is an important matter—”

“Find that mail you threw out and get the address from there. Google it, I don’t care. Though really, if you keep talking like that, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near Henrik.” Marvin growled. “If you stay here one second longer, I’m calling the police. Leave.”

Mina looked like she wanted to protest more, but thought better of it. She walked around Marvin and Chase, staring at the two of them as she did, and then hurried down the path to the street. She got inside the strange car Chase had parked behind, started it, and drove off.

“You could’ve handled that better,” Chase said.

“You didn’t say anything,” Marvin replied, facing him.

“No, I know. You’re right, something about that seemed...weird.” Chase couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something about the way Mina was acting was...strange. Not in a bad way. But it felt like there was something more she wasn’t saying.

“I don’t like people talking about people’s ‘conditions,’” Marvin muttered.

“Yeah, that was a bit...Just, the way she said it, like it was a given, y’know?” Chase shook his head. “But you really went off there.”

Immediately, all the fire drained out of Marvin’s body. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m just...tired.”

“I don’t blame you. I feel it too.” Chase nodded. “You, uh...want to go see Jackie sometime soon?”

Marvin nodded. Day after tomorrow? he asked, signing.

“That could work. We’d have to be quick, though, Stacy will be dropping off the kids in the evening for the weekend.”

Oh, you sure? I can go tomorrow, or even after the weekend.

“No, it’s fine, I...I really want to see him.” Chase swallowed a lump in his throat. “I’ll pick you up. How about around two?”

Marvin nodded again. That would work.

“Great. See you then.” Chase retreated to his car, turning back before getting inside to wave at Marvin one last time. Marvin waved back, then turned around and went through the front door to his house. Once he was gone, Chase got in his car and drove away.

This day just kept getting longer. He really needed to get home and go to bed.

——————

Two days later, Chase picked Marvin up and the two of them drove back to the hospital around two o’clock, when visiting hours started. They remembered the way to Jackie’s room, and found it quickly. Nobody else was there. Chase half-expected Detective Nix to still be here, doing some sort of police stuff, but no, the room was empty. Jackie was lying in bed, eyes open, hands folded on his stomach, staring at the ceiling. He wasn’t moving at all, except for the up-and-down of his chest as he breathed. Chase hovered in the doorway, Marvin nearby, feeling uneasy. This sight was a bit...worrying. Was Jackie okay?

Marvin leaned over and whispered, “Is he awake?”

“I don’t know,” Chase replied in the same hushed tone. “His eyes are open.”

“Maybe it’s like with Jack? How he was before?”

“God, I hope not. I don’t want anyone else to go through that.”

At that moment, Jackie’s head turned, and he looked at the two of them. He must have heard them, despite the whispering. Chase gasped a bit before coughing to clear his throat. “Hey, Jackie,” he said awkwardly. “It’s uh...it’s us.”

Jackie didn’t respond, just kept looking at them. His eyes darted up and down as he took in their appearances. Self-consciously, Chase tried to brush some nonexistent dirt off his jacket. He should have worn a newer one instead of the old one with the first merch design for his channel.

Marvin waved. “Hi. We’re here now.”

“Yeah, hi.” Chase waved again. “Uh...how are you feeling?”

Still no response. Though Jackie looked a bit confused now.

“Uh...can you hear us, bro?” Chase stepped forward until he was standing next to the bed, then put a hand on the non-bandaged part of Jackie’s arm.

“Holy shit!” Jackie jerked his arm away and bolted upright. “You’re really here!”

“Wh—yeah?!” Chase said.

Marvin laughed.

Chase glanced back at him. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“Sorry, sorry, I-I dunno what that was about, nervous reflex,” Marvin waved away Chase’s look. “It was just a bit funny, cause he jumped up like that.”

“I—I wasn’t expecting that,” Jackie said, sounding a bit dazed.

“You...weren’t expecting us to actually be here?” Chase clarified.

“Yeah, I-I-I thought that—it’s all a bit—never thought I’d—” Jackie paused, gathering his words. “I thought that maybe...I was just daydreaming a bit. To make myself feel better. This whole place, actually.” He gestured around the hospital room. “I guess it was all so surreal, and I...I was kind of out of it, a-anyway, so I thought this was just more of that.”

“Oh. Well, no, we’re here.” Chase squeezed Jackie’s arm. “You’re really in the hospital. Southpoint General, actually, the same place Jack is.”

“Really?” Jackie laughed a bit. “Cool, I could go visit him.”

“Well he’s in a different, um, ward, or whatever,” Chase said. “But yeah, technically you could.”

Jackie smiled, but then the grin slowly faded from his face. His eyes glazed over a bit.

“So...” Marvin jumped in, walking over to stand next to Chase. “What do you remember?”

“Huh?” Jackie blinked, and looked over at him. “Remember about what? You’ll have to be a bit more specific.”

“I mean about the whole rescue operation,” Marvin explained. “How did the police find you?”

“Oh. Uhhhh yeah like I said I was really out of it, so...” Jackie shrugged. “Not that much. I remember them appearing, I think. There were, like, footsteps, and then a bunch of strangers appeared in the doorway.”

“Did they have to kick it down?” Marvin asked, sounding a little too excited at the idea.

“No, it was already open. I dunno why. Maybe he forgot to close it all the way, he was in a hurry.” Jackie mumbled that last part under his breath, but Chase and Marvin heard it easily enough. “Anyway, they picked me up, and I’m sort of assuming there was a ride to the hospital of some kind, but I completely zoned that out. I kinda vaguely remember a bunch of doctors and some bright lights? But, uh...yeah. Otherwise, I just woke up here, in the bed, and thought I was daydreaming it all.”

“You must have some vivid daydreams, bro,” Chase muttered.

“Yeah.” Jackie nodded.

Marvin gave Jackie an odd look. “I don’t know if having daydreams that strong is normal.”

“No, probably not, but it doesn’t matter, really,” Jackie dismissed.

Marvin looked like he was ready to push the issue, but Chase put a hand on his shoulder and subtly shook his head. This wasn’t the time. “Well, we’re...we’re just really glad you’re okay, Jackie,” he said softly. “We were so fucking worried. You—you’re alright, right?”

Jackie patted himself over, wincing a bit as he pressed on his chest. “Mostly, yeah.”

“Yeah. We’re so happy you’re back,” Marvin added. “What...what happened?” Chase gave him a sharp look, but it was too late, the question was out.

“What happened?” Jackie looked at Marvin incredulously. “I got fucking kidnapped, that’s what happened. And then—a-and then—I was—we—” He stopped, taking a few deep breaths. “Sorry, I...I can’t talk about it.”

Marvin winced. “Sorry. Th-that was—that was rude. It just sort of came out. You don’t have to talk about it. Like Chase said, we were just...really worried, and we—we want to know you’re okay.”

“It’s fine, just be careful,” Jackie said quietly. “I’m okay. Except for the obvious.” In the moment of silence that followed, his eyes drifted down, attention drawn by the bandages on his upper arm. Frowning in strange concentration, he reached up and started pulling at them.

“Whoa, dude, what’re you doing?” Chase almost reached out to grab his wrist, but stopped, thinking that wouldn’t be well-received. “You need those!”

“I just wanna confirm something,” Jackie muttered, managing to loosen the tight bandages enough to start unwinding them. “They can be put back on.”

“I—you’re not wrong, but—what if there’s—I don’t know, a lot of blood, or something?” Chase speculated.

“I don’t think so. Not if I’m remembering right.” Jackie slowly removed the bandages, unwinding and pulling them off. Until, eventually, the wounds underneath were visible.

All three of them stiffened in unison. Jackie’s arm was cut up, but not in a random or accidental way. Instead, the word WARNING was carved into his skin, in bleeding capital letters, going from his shoulder, all down his arm, reaching his elbow.

“What the fuck...?” Chase said, unable to say anything else. He couldn’t believe what he was saying. Stuff like that didn’t happen in real life, only in crime dramas. Who would actually do that?

Jackie’s face shifted as he covered up his distress with a blank expression. “So I was right,” he said tonelessly, attempting to rewrap the bandages one-handedly. Chase pulled himself out of his stunned stupor to bend over and help him with them.

“I’m gonna kill him.”

“Huh?” Chase stopped, looking back over at Marvin.

“Anti. I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Marvin repeated through gritted teeth. His posture was stiff, unmoving, his fists clenched. “He takes our friends—JJ, Schneep, Jackie—and does this? I’m going to kill him. I’m going to take a fucking knife or a gun or rope or whatever I can find and I’m going to kill him and watch the fucking life drain from his eyes—”

“Jesus, Marv, calm down!” Chase cried. “You gotta think this through.”

Jackie nodded. “Yeah. You’re not a killer.”

“I could be,” Marvin said bluntly.

“No!” Chase straightened, grabbing Marvin by the shoulders and forcing him to look at him. “Marvin, I get it, you’re upset by recent events and clearly filled with rage. For good reason, I’ll say. But you can’t just walk up to a professional assassin and attack him, you’ll just get killed! Besides, JJ and Schneep wouldn’t want you to do that, even for their sake. Just...take a step back. Go walk around and get it out of your system, if you have to. Don’t do anything stupid.”

For a moment, Chase’s words only seemed to anger Marvin more. But then, he broke away, letting out one long, single breath. He pressed his hands to his eyes, breathed some more, then let out a shout and hit himself in the chest a couple times. Chase jumped in surprise, instinctively reaching forward to stop him, but Marvin was already done. “Alright, fine, you have a point. That’d be a dumb move. Impossible and not worth it. But fuck, we gotta do something.”

Chase nodded. “Yeah. I know how you feel, bro.” Even though common sense would say to leave this to the professionals, he couldn’t just sit by while his friends were in danger.

“Um...” Jackie waved a bit, drawing the other two’s attention back to him. “What do you mean ‘professional assassin’?”

“Oh. Do you not...know?” Chase asked. “I mean, I thought you would, but...I guess maybe there wasn’t an opportunity. That’s, uh...kind of what Anti does. I think what he’s done with Schneep and whatever he has planned now is just...a side thing, maybe. We actually found his website—oh shit!” His eyes widened in remembrance, and he whirled back to face Marvin. “Marv, you’re not gonna believe this, and you probably don’t need any more reason to hate this guy, but he might be the one who stabbed you.”

Marvin gasped. “Shit, really?!”

“The one who what?!” Jackie repeated.

“Oh, right you were...gone by the time that happened.” Marvin grimaced, then quickly filled in Jackie with what happened at the boutique he used to work for. Finding out it was a front, having someone stab him on his way home one night, getting home and patching up just barely in time, then figuring the owners of the front tried to kill him and heading back to Ireland for a few months to let things calm down. “How’d you figure out it was Anti, Chase?”

“I checked his website. He has reviews from past, uhhh…’clients,’ and one left one talking about a failed hit on a guy who sounded like you,” Chase explained.

“Well, shit.” Marvin folded his arms, face grim. “That’s not good. Well, I’m not gonna leave again until this whole thing is cleared up. Fuckers try to kill me again.”

“Y’know I really don’t think you should tempt fate like that,” Jackie pointed out.

“Fate doesn’t exist, only karma. They’ll get what’s coming to them thricefold, I’m not leaving.”

“I guess...you don’t have to,” Chase said skeptically. “But be careful. We’re not losing anyone else.”

Marvin nodded, expression finally softening. He grabbed Chase’s hand and squeezed it. “I will be.”

“Good.” Chase sighed. “Well, Jackie. This has been a lot of excitement. We should probably let you get some rest.”

“No no no!” Jackie protested. “I-it’s fine, I don’t want you guys to go yet. I...it’s been...so long. You know?”

Chase nodded sadly. “Almost a year.”

“Yeah. Exactly.” Jackie grabbed the edge of the hospital blanket, twisting it. “So...you have a lot to catch me up on, then. I-it’s gonna take a while. You should sit down.”

Marvin and Chase glanced at each other. Then Marvin shrugged. “There are better chairs in this room than in Jack’s,” he said.

Chase laughed. “I mean, I wasn’t gonna say it—”

“You were thinking it, though?”

“Exactly.”

“Glad to hear my chairs are superior,” Jackie said, smiling a bit. “Pull one up.”

“Alright, Jackieboy Man, we have some time,” Chase grinned. “There’s a lot you’ve missed.”

The three of them sat, talking for hours about things that mattered a lot, and things that didn’t matter at all.

——————

“—can’t believe they—how did they know about—probably figured out about the others too—”

Jameson wasn’t paying much attention to Anti’s muttering, but every so often, he caught random snatches as Anti paced back and forth. Every time he passed by the doorway, more angry phrases passed through into the bedroom beyond. Something really had him upset, didn’t it? From what little he heard, someone had found something, and that was a big problem. Well...he had wondered if the police found Anti’s previous hideout, and if that was the reason he had to drag them out of there. Whatever the case, good. If Anti had a problem, he deserved it.

“—three fucking people in this tiny—gotta find out what’s still—somewhere new? Maybe?—”

Lying on the bed, Jameson saw Anti’s shadow pass to the left...then the right...then the left...then the right.... It kept cutting across the light that was shining into the dim bedroom from the room outside. The living room, to be exact. The living room of the apartment he was now trapped in, to be precise. Though, Anti did seem to be distracted. The bedroom door was wide open, if he wanted he could run out and—No, it probably wouldn’t work. Anti told him the front door was locked, and he probably still had the key on him. Jameson couldn’t take it from him; Anti was much stronger. Besides, even if the key had been sitting out on the table, Jameson wasn’t the only person who needed to get out.

Speaking of which...

He rolled over to his side, now facing the bedroom wall. There was a window on this side, but the shutters were closed, and actually had a padlock making sure they couldn’t be moved. Anti probably had that key, too. There was a wardrobe in one corner and a dresser in the other, the former having its doors ajar to show it was empty inside. Or...empty of clothes, at least. A figure was pressed against one wall, huddled up, indistinct in the shadows. When Jameson had woken up a few hours ago, there had been faint mumbling and sobbing coming from that direction. Now, there was nothing.

After a moment of listless staring, Jameson sat up, glanced out the doorway to make sure Anti was still occupied in his pacing, then stood and walked over to the wardrobe. He pushed the door farther open and stared down at the figure. A man. Knees pulled up and arms covering face, the classic defensive position. A moment more passed before Jameson sat down on the wardrobe floor next to the shadowy huddle.

“Ah!” The man gasped a bit, then looked up. Wide blue eyes reflected the little light in the dim room. He stared at Jameson, then asked, “Jackie?”

Jameson shook his head.

“No, no. Of course not. I’m sorry, I am just confused.” The man’s eyes squinted a bit. “Do I...know you?”

Jameson shook his head again.

“Oh. Good. I was worried for a moment there.” The man uncurled a bit, taking his arms away from his face. He reached down to his ankles, slightly adjusting the cuffs around them, binding them together. Then he glanced around. “I do not recognize this place, either. Do you?” When Jameson shook his head for a third time, the man tilted his head. “Can you...not speak?”

Faintly surprised, Jameson nodded. Most people would ask why he was quiet or demand that he talk. Only a few caught on to the reality without him somehow cuing them with signs or writing.

“Ah, I’m sorry, then. Can you hear me?”

A nod.

“I see.” The man glanced out at the room again. “My name—my name is Henrik.” So Jameson’s guess was right. This was the Dr. Schneeplestein he’d heard so much about, and had one brief meeting with, a meeting that had ended badly. “What is your—what do I call you?”

Thinking for a moment, Jameson reached out and gently took one of Schneep’s hands. He stiffened a bit, but allowed him to do so. Jameson then drew out the letter J twice on the surface of his palm.

“JJ? Oh, that is very nice.” Schneep smiled faintly. “I understand some sign language, you know. But I am afraid I am very rusty. I do not think I could hold a conversation.” His smile fell. “Do you...know why we are here?”

Jameson nodded sadly. He gestured out towards the room, in the direction of the doorway Anti was pacing and muttering in front of.

Schneep shuddered. “Yes, I—I have—he has—I have been in this situation. Before.”

Jameson pointed at himself, then made the sign for also by pointing his fingers and touching his hands together.

“I know that one. You...you know him, too?” Schneep’s voice held a combination of horror, sympathy, and strangely, hope. Hope that he wasn’t alone. “I suppose I don’t have to explain, then.”

Letting out a huff of dark laughter, Jameson shook his head.

“Hmm. That is good.” Schneep scanned Jameson, taking in as many details he could in the faint light. “I...something about this time is...different. Than when he last took me.” He suppressed another shiver as he looked up towards the shadow passing back and forth on the ceiling. “I...am sorry you are here.”

Jameson scooted closer to him. He put one hand on Schneep’s shoulder and signed Sorry with his other. Neither of them should be here. Anti should never have interfered in their lives again.

Schneep let out a shaky breath, and leaned closer to Jameson until he was resting his weight against him. Jameson pressed his head against his. And together, they listened to the sound of their nightmare pacing and muttering, wondering what was next for them.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #jacksepticeye au #septic egos #septic egos au #chase brody #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #jameson jackson #dr schneeplestein #brigid writes fanfiction #pwtimeline

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thefloorisbalaclava · 5 years ago

Text

Everywhere - Chapter 9

Pairing: Javier Peña x female reader

Warnings: none just some drunken shenanigans

A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than the others and is meant as a little reprieve from all the angst I’ve been writing between these two lately. The song for this chapter is Over My Head by Fleetwood Mac :)

Summary: After Javier shows up at your place you give him dinner and maybe drink a little too much wine.

Dinner with Javier. It wasn't like a date or anything. He showed up randomly and it would've been rude to just send him away without anything so you two had dinner together. Now, you were sitting outside talking about whatever came to mind. Two empty bottles of wine sat on the small table between the chairs you sat in and Javier tipped one upside to show you.

"Vacío," he mumbled.

"Yes, yes it is." You sat back in your chair and stared up at the sky.

"Is there more?" he asked.

"I didn't know you liked wine so much."

"I didn't either. Seems like you show me all kinds of things I don't know about myself," he said. When you looked at him he was staring ahead with a sort of contemplating look on his face.

"And that scares you?"

"Yeah, it does."

"Maybe it's something you need to do, you know? Take a long, hard look at yourself. I mean really look. Not just with your eyes." You walked into the house to grab another bottle of wine. "I can't believe I'm drinking all my wine with someone I didn't even want to be near when I got back," you said as you walked back out.

"Give it here." Javier uncorked the bottle and poured you a glass before pouring himself one. "Maybe this is just what we needed to, I dunno, fix things."

"Fix things, huh?" You looked at him over your glass as you drank.

"Look, I admit I fucked up."

"Is Javier Peña admitting he did something wrong? I must be drunk," you joked.

"But it's not all on me," he said and you moved the glass away from your face slowly.

"Javier. Don't."

"You left without saying a fucking word to me." He hadn't raised his voice at all. He didn't want an argument. "How was I supposed to know?"

"And if I had told you...just walked right up to you and told you I loved you, what would've changed?"

"I don't know but I woulda known how you felt about me in person instead of reading it in a letter that ripped my fucking heart out." He looked right into your eyes as he spoke. He was killing you softly. "Yeah, I have a heart. I know you think I only have two heads though...Steve told me."

"Fuckin' Murphy…" You shook your head and laughed. "Javier, I...this whole thing is so complicated. I don't even know what it is anymore."

"Does it have to have a name?" He poured more wine into his glass then lifted his eyebrows silently asking if you wanted more. You nodded and he filled your glass again.

"I guess not." You sipped some of the wine. "We'd probably have great sex, you and me," you said nonchalantly.

Javier sputtered into his glass then cleared his throat before speaking. "You think so?"

"Honestly, it's been so fuckin' long I feel like taking a page from your book."

"You don't wanna be like me. Trust me."

"I have needs too. Maybe I should just stop looking for love and just find a quick, no strings attached-"

"Stop," he snapped. "We both know you don't want that."

"So you know what I want now?" you asked. "Or are you just saying that because you can't stand the idea of me fucking someone that isn't you?"

"You're drunk," he said before finishing the wine in his glass and quickly refilling it.

"And so are you." You stood on wobbly legs and walked into the hacienda carefully. "Bring the wine!" you shouted to him because you knew he would follow.

"I don't think you need anymore."

"Stop telling me what I want and need, Peña." You sat heavily on the rug in front of the small couch.

"Why are you sitting on the floor?" he asked.

"'Cause I want to. That okay with you, sir?" you slurred.

He shrugged. "Whatever."

"Why can't I just...hate you?" You sniffled and stared down at the floor. "And now every time I sit at my table or sit outside or sit here I'll think of you." You thought of him all day everyday anyway. "You're everywhere, Javi. Why do you have to be everywhere?"

"You want me to leave?" he asked and silently prayed you would say no.

"No, Javi...just sit with me, please." You patted the floor beside you and he sighed before settling beside you.

"So…"

You put your head on his shoulder. "I didn't mean what I said out there...the stuff about you not liking the idea of me sleeping with anyone else…"

"You meant it and you're right," he admitted. You lifted your head to look at him. "I hate that someone out there might see more than I saw of you that one time…"

"You still think about that?"

"Every damn day. How could I forget?"

"Easy. You can go fuck it away." You remembered him saying something like that when he talked about your letter and how it made him feel.

"I've tried but no one made me feel that same intensity I had with you."

"But we didn't even have sex." You watched as he played with the fabric of your dress nervously.

"I know. I don't understand it either."

"There's nothing quite like wanting what you can't have," you said sadly.

"Can I ask you something?" He looked at you and you nodded. "Why haven't you...been with anyone?"

"Because they're not you." Tears filled your eyes and you looked away quickly.

"So what you said about taking a page from my book…"

"You were right. It's not what I want." You didn't see it but Javier closed his eyes in relief. "Hm." You took the aviators he had hanging on his shirt and put them on before standing. He grabbed your leg to help steady you. "Look, I'm Javier Peña." Your voice sounded nothing like his but you tried.

"You're fuckin' horrible," he said but he laughed.

"I smoke cigarettes and wear...pink shirts but I never button all the buttons. Gotta show off my sexy, broad chest." You pulled the front of your dress down to demonstrate.

"So you think my chest is sexy?"

"I...I didn't say...I'm pretending to be you."

He stood and made his way over to you. "I have never called my chest sexy. That was the first word you thought of, huh?"

"Shut up, Javi." You walked around him to grab an apple off the table. "So how do I look?" You stood the way he would, hands on your hips and one hip jutted out.

"Ridiculous," he lied. He was sure he would never see anything sexier than you wearing a flowing dress and his aviators. Those were already his favorite shades, but he liked them even more now.

You shrugged and bit into the apple. He even thought that was sexy. "Did we really get drunk together?" you asked

"Seems like it." He walked up to you and took the apple from you then took a bite.

"Hey!"

"You took my glasses. I took your apple. Fair is fair." He took another bite and held it out to you.

"Keep it." You took the glasses off and put them back where you got them trying your hardest not to brush your hand against his chest. You found yourself staring at the bare skin longer than intended. He smacked his lips after swallowing the bit of apple he'd eaten and now your eyes focused there.

"You sure you don't want another bite?" He held the apple near your mouth and you looked into his eyes before slowly taking a bite. You were Eve and he was the tempting serpent. "Good?" he asked and you nodded, eyes on his lips again as he licked them.

"It's, uh, getting late." You swallowed then licked your lips which got all of his attention.

"Yeah."

"Yeah," you breathed. And just like last time, he was too close. You were too close. Without looking, he placed the bitten apple on the table then closed the space between the two of you in a flash. He tasted of apples and wine and something that was wholly Javier. You should've pulled away, told him to stop, instead you grabbed the collar of his shirt and didn't let go. The kiss was full of unspoken and unresolved emotion, a tension that finally snapped.

He was the first to pull away though it seemed he couldn't stop himself from kissing you after every word he spoke. "You're...drunk...I need to...leave." That was true but did you want him to? He kissed you again while backing you towards the door. "Off limits, remember?" Yet the kissing didn't end.

"But…" you whined as your back hit the door. Your arms were around his shoulders and you pulled him in for another kiss. It's like his lips were made for yours.

He pulled away from you with a frustrated grunt and ran his hands through his hair. You placed a hand over your mouth and slid away from the door without a word.

"You have no idea what you do to me, do you?" he asked. You looked down and found a very obvious example of what you did to him. "Every time we end up alone…"

"Sorry," you mumbled. He walked towards you but reached for the door instead.

"Are you really?" he asked, opening the door. "Because I'm not." He leaned over to you and kissed your forehead. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." You locked eyes again and he nodded once before walking out. After a moment, you pushed yourself off the wall and went to pick up the apple he had left on the table. You took another bite and listened as he drove away. You could blame the wine for it all, but you knew it wasn't the truth. The apple wasn't your forbidden fruit, Javier was. And you were his.

You can take me to paradise And then again you can be as cold ice I'm over my head Oh but it sure feels nice

You can take me anytime you like I'll be around if you think you might love me baby And hold me tight

Tags: @longitud-de-onda @pascalisthepunkest @misslolasworld @aeryntheofficial @ah-callie @mrsparknuts @loki-098 @huliabitch @thinemineours @flapjacques @opheliaelysia

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña x reader #Narcos #Pedro Pascal #headcanon

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browneyedhimbo · 5 years ago

Text

Together

Pairing: FinnPoe

Anon asked: heyyyy I dunno if you are taking requests rn and it’s fine if you’re not but i figured you would write this really well... so basically had this idea for a finnpoe fic where basically someone calls Finn a stormtrooper or something and Poe loses his shit and tries to fight them (or does you choose😉) and Finn has drag him away cause poe is really trying to end this dude and then when poe calms down he confesses? I’m sorry this is all over the place but it’s my first time doin a request😅

Warnings: language, very light angst if you squint, mentions of blood, mutual pining, tooth rotting fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Thank you to the anon who requested!! My requests are always open, though it does take me some time. I absolutely adored this idea and loved writing it! I’m going to be editing my tag lists soon so please let me know if you would like to be tagged in anything! 《MASTERLIST 》

“You’re an idiot.”

“Are not,” he scoffed

“And a scaredy cat.”

“No I’m not.”

“Why don’t you tell him then,” Rey smirked as her eyebrows raised, clearly enjoying this little banter.

“Because, you know...” his sentence trailed off as a hand went to rub the back of his neck.

“No I don’t know,” she smiled, a small chuckle escaping past her lips. Poe let out a long sigh before leaning against the door to his quarters.

“I just, he’s my best friend! And he probably, more than likely, doesn’t feel the same.” He grunted, kicking at the dirt.

“My point still stands,” he looked up, a tired yet curious expression on his face. She patted a hand on his shoulder, “You’re an idiot.”

“You’re no help, you know that.” He chuckled, turning his head to look at her, knowing she was completely right. He’s being a fool. He should just tell Finn how he feels but doubt and fear linger in the back of his head.

“Well, maybe all you need is a push.” She gave him one last smile as she turned around, heading to another part of the base.

He stood there, pondering over her words. What kind of push though? He groaned in frustration again before heading over to the mechanics area to work on his x-wing.

++++

“You and Commander Dameron are close,” one of the mechanics said as she was working on a droid.

“Yeah uh, you could say that.” He chuckled nervously.

“You like him don’t you.” She looked up, a soft gaze in her eyes.

“I put up with him, if that counts.” He shifted on his feet, not looking directly at her.

“Sure you do,” she clicked her tongue, looking back down at the droid. Finn’s brows furrowed; he licked his lips, curiosity filling him inside.

“And that means…” he quirked an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” she smiled sweetly at him. “It’s just,” she waved a wrench around, “you two seem like you’d make a cute couple is all,” she said nonchalantly. If Finn had water he would’ve choked. Couple? Sure he liked Poe, but being a couple never really crossed his mind.

“I uh -” A blush started creeping up his neck and to his cheeks. “I-I I mean-”

“Finn? Buddy, what are you doing here?” Poe cut him off, throwing an arm around his shoulder pulling him into a side hug.

“Just uh, chatting,” Finn looked at Poe briefly before dropping his gaze to the ground, his blush growing more intense.

“You okay?” Poe hummed, scanning his soft brown eyes over Finn’s facial features. “You look flush.” Concern washed over Poe and in an instant he removed his arm from Finn’s shoulder and pressed the back of his hand to Finn’s forehead. “Comin down with something? Need water? Maybe you should-”

“Poe,” Finn chuckled, “I’m fine. It’s just hot in here.” He shifted on his feet. Poe’s hand dropped from his forehead to his shoulder, just by his neck.

“Probably this jacket of yours then,” Poe chuckled as he tugged on the leather material.

“Yeah, probably.” Finn smiled, looking up at him. Your jacket, echoing in the back of his mind. Their eyes locked and Finn felt his heart leap from his chest. Poe’s gaze was soft yet concern still lingered. His eyes filled with adoration and his lips curved into a gentle smile.

Finn didn’t know it but Poe felt the exact same way. Looking into Finn’s eyes, Poe felt himself fall even more in love. Love? Poe licked his lips as he cleared his throat, his face suddenly feeling hot.

“I uh, I gotta go work on my uh, x-wing,” Poe stuttered, eyes never wavering from Finn’s.

“Y-yeah, I uh, got to um…” Both men chuckled nervously as they spun in a circle around each other.

“You’re going to the cantina later right?” Poe asked, a slight tremor in his voice.

“Oh, y-yeah yeah yeah. Uh, see you then Poe,” Finn waved, a goofy smile on his face. Poe nodded as he was walking backwards.

“See you later babe-BUD! Bud,” Poe flashed him a smile before turning around and started speed walking toward his x-wing. “Kriff, I hope he didn’t hear that.” he mumbled to himself.

Finn stared at Poe’s retreating form until he turned a corner and was out of sight. His face was still burning as was his shoulder where Poe had his hand. He sighed for the millionth time that day and looked at the mechanic, a huge smile plastered on her face.

“Told ya!” She winked and Finn couldn’t help but shake his head. Hands on his hips, he looked up at the ceiling, thoughts just racing around in his head, all revolving around a certain pilot.

“We’ll see about that,” he finally decided. He started walking out when she hollered three letters that made him pause.

“OTP!” He was definitely going to have to look that up later.

++++

“That should do it.” Throwing the wrench with a huff, Poe wiped a hand over his forehead leaving slight greece smudges. “What do you think beebs?” The droid beeped in approval before picking up the wrench and putting it in the toolbox.

“Cantina time, right?” He clapped his hands as he grabbed his jacket. Loud concerned beeping made him stop and look at the little white and orange droid. “What do you mean I look bad?” BB-8 shook its head.

“Buddy I’m - oh,” Poe looked down at his clothes, the white tank top and black pants were covered in oil. “Yeah I know, I need to change.” He chuckled, making his way towards his quarters, bb-8 following close to his side. “Yes, and take a shower.”

After getting ready and approval from BeeBee, Poe finally headed to the cantina. He felt his stomach churn as his heart thumped a little faster. It wasn’t a date but they were still hanging out, laughing together. Together. Oh how a word can break and mend his heart at once.

Taking a deep breath to try and calm his nerves, Poe opened the door and was greeted with a slight crowd, everybody talking and laughing, arguing and drinking. Scanning the area, Poe couldn’t find Finn or the rest of his friends.

“There you are!” Rose grabbed his arm, “You’ve gotta do something!” Tugging him to a different part of the cantina, Poe was filled with confusion. It wasn’t until Rose pointed to a certain area that he felt his heart hammering away in his chest. “They’ve been at for like ten minutes. We tried shutting them up but they won’t listen.”

“Where’s Rey?”

“Said she’ll be here later.”

“What exactly happened?” Poe faced her, a serious expression on his face.

“At first we were having fun and talking, waiting for you and Rey when those guys showed up.” She started, jutting her chin in the direction where Finn and the three other men were at. “They seemed nice at first, had a decent conversation when they started picking on Finn for being quiet. I told them to shut up but Maker, they kept on going. They had just started teasing him about being a stormtrooper when I saw you walk in.” She finished with a huff.

Poe’s blood was boiling. Searing anger bubbling from the inside out, making him stare at the three dudes who were still teasing Finn. If looks could kill, they would be not 6ft, but 12ft under. His jaw was set, teeth clenched, and he felt his hands starting to shake. All he saw was red and he wanted to go in for the kill. Walking up to the group of four, Poe grabbed the nearest one and slammed him against the wall.

“So you think it’s funny to make fun of him huh?!” Poe’s eyes were like daggers, as his voice went deep and was void of emotion. “Think you talk shit about his past?” His fist collided with the guy’s jaw, a loud pop made the whole cantina turn to look at the scene; but Poe could care less.

He grabbed the same guy and punched his face again and again, efficiently breaking his nose. He raised his fist to land another blow when he felt someone grab it and wrap an arm around his waist.

“Poe stop!” Finn pleaded, trying to pull Poe off the guy.

“No, No! They each need an ass beating.” He snarled, “Or, or maybe...maybe I’ll just blast them with my x-wing a few times!” He struggled against Finn’s hold to lunge at the other two guys.

“Poe!” Finn held on tighter, like his life depended on it. Well, more like the other three guy’s.

Poe grunted as he tried to pry Finn’s arm from his waist but Finn wouldn’t let up. Poe turned his head to look at Finn and he felt all his anger dissipate. The cold look turned warm under Finn’s gaze and he huffed, falling limp; letting go of the struggle.

“Thank you.” Finn helped him stand, but Poe mistakenly looked at the three guys again and he felt his anger rise. Finn grabbed at his waist and shoulder before Poe could take a step.

“If I see you three ever again you’re dead.” Poe jabbed a finger in their direction before looking at Finn and giving a curt nod, silently telling him he was finished.

“I’ll clean up here, you two need to talk, now.” Rose said, pushing them towards the exit. They left and Finn guided them towards the tarmac, knowing Poe likes to look out at the stars as he cools down from a fight.

The whole way was quiet, neither saying what they really wanted to. Poe’s eyes were trained to the floor, not daring to look at Finn. He felt guilty, but he also felt something else. Something burning in his chest. He couldn’t really put his finger on it. He was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt them stop. Tentatively, he lifts his gaze up, looking at Finn who is already watching him.

Finn retracts his arm from around Poe’s waist and they both feel a little empty with the loss of contact. Finn swallows thickly and sighs, still not believing what just happened. Poe literally came out of nowhere and beat a guy to a pulp.

“Rose told me what happened, that’s why I uh, you know.” It was like he read his mind. Poe went to put his hands in his pant pockets but when the material rubbed on his right fist he felt a sharp pain shoot from his knuckles to the rest of his hand. A slight whimper escaped as he cupped it with his other hand.

“Dammit Dameron,” Finn whispered, reaching for Poe’s injured hand. “What would possess you to beat the life out of them?” He pressed the bottom of his shirt to Poe’s lightly bleeding fast bruising knuckles.

“You know what they said-”

“But that doesn’t mean you can kill them Poe.” Finn looked up from their hands to Poe’s face, guilt very evident across his beautiful features.

“I-” Poe started, he felt his throat closing in on him as tears started clouding his vision. “I-You, it’s just, ugh!” He pulled his hands away and started tugging at his curls. “You! It’s you! You’re fault,” he sighed in frustration. The words wouldn’t come out the way he wanted them too.

“My fault?! How the-”

“Not the fight, the feeling - THIS feeling,” he motioned towards his heart, his hand shaking rather violently. “That feeling. Whenever I see you, Finn, my heart feels like it’s going to kriffing explode! I can be down all day and then I see you, and you care and you want to help me.” He paused trying to get air into his lungs. He didn't even feel the tears falling down until Finn reached out and pressed a hand to his cheek, the pad of his thumb gently rubbing the tears away.

“When Rose said they were making fun of how you used to be a stormtrooper, I-I thought I was going to melt on the spot of how heated I got.” He cracked a smile, trying to conceal the aggravation he felt at the thought. “Finn, w-what I’m, you know, trying to uh to to say, is uh,” he tripped over his words and Finn had to bite his lip so as to not laugh at Poe’s new state of nervousness.

“You got it,” Finn encouraged, hand still pressed to Poe’s cheek, the other hand holding Poe’s injured one. There was a beat of silence. No one spoke, everything around them was quiet as they stared into each other's eyes, the stars above them illuminating them perfectly.

“I love you.” As soon as the words left him, Poe panicked. Scanning Finn’s face for any sign of disappointment or wariness, he was met with something completely different, something he wasn’t expecting. Finn had the brightest smile Poe’s ever seen, his eyes shone with pure awe and warmth, and the hand on his cheek moved to his neck.

“I know.” Finn winked at him and Poe felt his face get hot as his heart froze. “That’s a little taste of your own medicine you cocky bastard.” He laughed before bringing both his hands to cup Poe’s cheeks and bring him in for a long awaited kiss.

The kiss was soft and sweet. Both of them pouring all their emotions into it, all the love they felt for each other. Poe felt fireworks go off in his belly as he drowned himself in Finn’s smell, the way their lips curved perfectly against each other. Breaking apart for air, they leaned their foreheads together, bumping noses, little laughs turned into small pecks and their hearts soared high to the skies.

“I love you too, babe.” Finn chuckled, kissing the tip of Poe’s nose.

“So you did hear it,” Poe felt his face get hot of slight embarrassment and tucked his nose into Finn’s shoulder.

“Everybody heard it.” The mechanic from earlier stated making them jump. Both men looked over and saw she wasn’t standing alone, but with BB-8, Rose, and Rey. BeeeBee rolls up in between them and beeps, as if scolding Poe.

“What do you mean it’s about damn time?” He questioned the droid.

“It’s got a point,” Rey said, turning to the other three ladies, gaining an eruption of laughter from the whole group.

Poe looked at Finn who shook his head at them, a smile blossoming across his face. That laughter made his stomach do backflips and his heart throb in his chest, but now he didn’t have to hide it anymore. Their eyes met and he extended his uninjured hand, Finn gladly taking it, intertwining their fingers.

Finn glanced at Poe’s other hand, the blood dried and the bruise was getting worse. He gave Poe a look but the other man shook his head, tugging him close and pressing a kiss to his temple. A silent way of saying we’ll handle it tomorrow. A promise they’ll handle anything together now. As they always have.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Permanent tags: @becausewhyknotme @katbtracy @imma-new-soul @justmebeingtheweirdmeiam @officialtonystarkprotectionsquad @theladyoffangorn @itsunclebucky @mushyjellybeans @writingforhoursonend @agentpeggybarnes @fangirl-introvert @ninjabucky @cosmicbucky @yougottakeeponkeepinon @this-kitten-is-smitten

[also tagging] @kittyofalltrades @writefightandflightclub @damerondjarin @damndamer0n @poe-damnnn-eron @spider-starry @kayte-wren @merthurians-prat-and-idiot [please let me know if you want me to stop tagging you or if it’s becoming annoying]

#finnpoe #stormpilot #poe dameron #finn #rey #rose #poe #bb8droid #bb8 #poe and bb8 #star wars #poe dameron fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #sw

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fiddler-unroofed · 6 years ago

Text

{in which nott sees a mirror.}

warnings for self loathing, sort of dissociation (i didn't have it in mind while writing but i figure it could come across in that way) self-aimed and accidentally inflicted violence, and a pretty graphic description of the wound caused from that aforementioned violence

///

The mirror is cracked.

Nott doesn't mind. If anything, she prefers it. That thin scar trailing down the middle is an excuse not to stare at it directly, a barrier between her eyes and the eyes of the creature behind it. It's damaged goods, is what it is. And Nott doesn't waste her time with things like that.

Instead, she looks at the mirror's outline. Its frame. It appears to be golden, although Nott isn't sure if it's genuine or not. She debates licking it to find out (gold always has a certain tinge to it, quite tasty in small amounts but bad if overdone) but figures that might be too obvious. And besides, Caleb is already so busy distracting the shopkeeper for her-- she doesn't want to put any additional stress on him to come up with an excuse for why his little halfling friend is putting her tongue on the products.

The man already seems suspicious as to what kind of halfling she is. After all, what kind of halfling wraps herself up in bandages and robes instead of walking freely? What kind of halfling speaks with that traitorous lilt to her words that only creatures of the night have? What kind of halfling's lips don't move in tune with the words she speaks?

She reaches out and slowly feels the frame. It's surprisingly warm. Like many hands have touched it before, some all too recently-- one look at the price tag and she can see why. Then again, it's a lovely mirror, she supposes. Despite the thin, spider-like crack. She makes the mistake of glancing over at it, no particular reason in mind, and glances back hurriedly again as her eyes meet the startling yellow ones of the creature in the mirror.

She wonders if she can get Caleb to put a charm on her eyes. Change their color. She's always been fond of light blue.

"Nott, how is the window shopping going?"

Nott nearly jumps two feet in the air. "Oh, uh, uhh--" Steeling her voice to stay light and pleasant, she squeaks out, "Lovely, Caleb!"

Even from here, she can hear his sigh and begrudging return to whatever trivial conversation he's having with the shopkeeper as the real meaning behind her words sinks in. It's going okay, currently thinking about what to steal. Distract him a bit longer, won't you? Thanks!

A twinge of guilt twists through her, and she bites her lip. Not hard. Not purposely hard, anyway. But there's a sharp pain as the familiar taste of pennies fills her mouth anyway.

Her teeth are too sharp. How many times is it she's wanted to laugh with complete abandonment? Kiss Caleb on the forehead as he lies asleep? She couldn't bear it if she hurt him.

Swallowing roughly, she goes to look away, find something else (something smaller, easier, cheaper) to steal, but finds that her eyes are still locked on that stupid golden mirror's frame instead. What is it that's keeping her from moving on to a new aisle? This is nothing special. It's just a mirror. Probably not even real gold.

Reaching over on whim, she goes to move the mirror so it faces elsewhere, tries to snap herself out of this sudden trance she's snapped herself into, but then her fingers falter and the mirror slips and she takes a step back and--

She's facing it. Her. The creature.

She's facing it head-on, and it's too late to look away. She's already taking it all in, soaking up what she sees like a sponge soaking up water. Except the water is acid and the acid is burning her, burning her inside and out.

Oh.

So this is what she's looked like for the last few months. Years. Forever.

Nott's caught glimpses of this face before, in windows and puddles and yes, even a few mirrors before, but never like this. Never so confrontationally. Never in such a large and clean and fancy mirror. Never on purpose. Even though the purposefulness of this situation could be called into question as well.

Its eyes-- her eyes, are the color of melting butter and liquid gold. They are the eyes of a cat, blinking slowly in disgusted bewilderment before widening threefold as understanding sets in. They're pretty, Nott supposes absently, or as pretty as eyes like that can get, but their pupils are nothing more than two violent slashes in their midsts. As thin and offputting as the crack in the mirror that tears the creature in two.

Its skin-- her skin, why won't this sink in-- is a sickly, mottled green. Not dark like Fjord's, but not light like an elf or wood spirit's either. It's kind of like the shade seasick people turn when on a long trip overseas, or that Caleb might sport after eating one of Jester's long expired treats. The shade associated with revulsion and disgust. How appropriate. On the arms, slim white scars bare the signs of struggles their owner has faced, enemies it, she, has opposed. Hatred she's allowed herself to be the brunt of, if by her own hand.

The mask thankfully hides what Nott already knows to be a mess of abnormally jagged teeth jutting out from a too-large bloodstained mouth, but she can still spot specks of green from where it's been chipped and nicked by the forces of time. Cracks in an otherwise perfect foundation.

She reaches up, as if in a dream, to touch the pretty porcelain lips. The creature in the mirror does the same.

"Nott," Caleb calls again, (distantly, she thinks, as if they're in completely different worlds instead of only a few steps apart,) "are you done?"

This time, she doesn't answer.

The red lips feel cold against her thumb. Cold, but beautiful. Everything is in its resolute, porcelain place. Nott licks her own lips. They feel chapped. The taste of pennies still lingers on her tongue.

She stares some more at the cracked figure across from her. The cracked figure that she's expected to believe reflects her. The cracked figure that shows her, in broad daylight, all the things people hate about her. The cracked figure that she's worked so hard to try and escape, but for nothing.

All she has to prove for her efforts are a pair of too large robes, and a pretty mask showing a future that will never be hers.

Nott thinks about this for a moment.

And then she reels back, and punches the mirror straight in the fucking center.

"AH-- FUCK!!"

Caleb instantly whips around. At the sound of shattered glass, the shopkeeper is quick to follow.

Nott staggers back, instantly jolted out of whatever trance she was in earlier as her fist flares up with pain. Not the usual type, either. This kind of pain is red-hot and angry, coiling through her hand and arm like a snake looking for a vein to bite. She yelps (screams, rather,) and realizes all too late that the shopkeeper is screaming as well.

"My mirror!" he wails. "My beautiful, beautiful mirror! What have you done, you green little beast?!"

Nott goes to choke out an answer, even just a "I dunno", but the words die on her lips as a scream makes its way there first. Caleb is already rushing over, a look of shock on his face as he scoops her up, away from the broken glass, and examines her hand wordlessly.

"What happened here?" he asks quietly, urgently, and even over the shopkeeper's wails he manages to make himself perfectly heard in her ears. "Nott, are you okay? No, do not look at that. Look at me. Are you okay?"

Nott ignores him and instantly looks at her hand.

On one hand, it's not as bad as she'd thought. On the other, it's worse. Bits of glass are embedded in her skin like stars, all sorts of shapes and sizes, and blood trickles from the wound steadily. Caleb's eyes sweep it up and down worriedly before mumbling a Zemnian oath under his breath.

"I'm... Jester can patch me up, right?" Nott asks feebly. Hopefully. Each word feels like a rock in her throat.

"Perhaps," Caleb says. He doesn't ask her what happened again.

"Excuse me," the shopkeeper blusters, hurrying over and pushing both of them aside to try and survey the damage, "but you'll have to reimburse me for this! This mirror was worth its weight in gold! It had over twenty three callers for it!"

"Getting my little friend the help she needs is a little more of a priority right now," Caleb says softly, and Nott feels another twinge of guilt, "but I assure you we will be back to pay for the damage we've caused."

"It was already cracked," Nott offers. "Your mirror, I mean."

The shopkeeper's face turns purple, and he looks like Nott bleeding out is far from a problem to him right now. "Oh, was it now? Tell me, will that excuse hold up in court?"

"There is no need to get the authorities involved," Caleb interjects, shooting Nott a Look. She shrinks back and tries not to think about the fire coursing through her bones. "We broke it. We will pay for it."

The shopkeeper sniffs. "You're lucky I'm not calling the Crown's Guard on both of you."

"Yes. Thank you. You are really very kind."

"That'll be two hundred gold. Doubled 'cause of damages."

Caleb's breath hitches a bit, and Nott winces. Neither of them have that kind of money. None of the party does. Guilt fastens itself around her heart, so heavy she can almost ignore the pure anguish in her hand.

"Ah," Caleb says, and Nott knows that tone. It's the 'time for plan B' tone he uses when he knows that they're both screwed. "That is fine. That is very fine. Will you allow me to go and get help for my little friend first? She has a rare condition, you see, and if she does not get help in the next ten minutes her blood will certainly--”

"I don't care," the shopkeeper spits. "I just want my gold."

"That is very kind of you." Caleb is already half-way out the door, dragging her behind him as gently as he can by her uninjured hand. Nott already knows that the minute he steps out fully, he has no intention of ever returning. "We will be right back."

"Yeah," Nott squeaks. "Definitely! Coming back is exactly what we're gonna do now! Sorry about your mirror!"

The shopkeeper, thankfully, doesn't acknowledge her. He's gone to the back of the store. Probably to look for a broom or something to clean the remnants of what would have otherwise brought him a fortune.

Nott spares a final glance at it all even as she's being pulled away. The perfect golden frame is not nearly as perfect anymore. If anything it just looks out of place, surrounding jagged bloody shards that look almost like teeth. Her teeth. The teeth that it couldn't show her before, now splayed out after ruin. What a fucking irony.

Caleb's hand tightens in hers as he pulls her down the street. She already knows what will come next. He'll stop her at a corner, try a small charm on her, wrap the wound up with a piece of cloth and then bustle her over to Jester who'll take care of the rest, hopefully. The matter of why she lashed out and ruined their stay in town will be swept under the rug. He'll allow her motives to be left forgotten.

And she loves him for it.

"Do not do something like that again, okay?" he whispers.

She nods. Ever the promise breaker. "I won't, I swear. I don't know what came over me, Caleb. I'm sorry."

He squeezes her hand again, satisfied. But even through his warmth, and the concern and affection radiating off him in waves, Nott can't help but think of those cold, perfect ruby red lips she saw in the mirror.

That tantalizing snippet from a life she'll never have.

No, she thinks fiercely. Her fist burns in agreement. I will have it. I will.

And she squeezes Caleb's hand back.

#nott the brave #caleb widogast #critical role #cr2 #critical role fic #critical role angst #cr nott #cr caleb #fiddlewrites #keeping characters in character even in ridiculously angsty situations #is hard.#also tumblr deleted half of this and i had to rewrite it :)#(if you tag this as ship im legally allowed to eat your hand)

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