#i did in fact fail my test by four questions
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#i did in fact fail my test by four questions#back to studying i go#sims 4#sims community#sims#the sims#the sims 4#the sims community#sims 4 gameplay#sims4#simblr#sims 4 builds#ts4 builds#sims 4 build#ts4 build#sims builds
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A lovely mess // CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character
Summary: Four times Charles overreacted to becoming a father and one he actually failed to react. Or Charles being a mess through the best and most scary adventure of his life.
Warnings: None, this is pure wholesomeness.
Author’s Note: This one was inspired by some stories my own dad and uncle told me about the times they had their first children. Yes, some of those stories are based on things my father did when him and my mom were expecting me hahahaha. Rate: PG
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Every man reacts differently to pregnancy, but the most common response is just simply becoming a mess of a human being. And because of that, Charles, for once in his life, could be considerer an average man. He had been exceptional his whole life: excellent student at school, talented in arts, languages and sports, remarkable people skills and loved by everyone. People assumed that he was going to be an exceptional father too, and he knew he was committed to the role since day one, but none of that made the experience less scary. The monegasque had always want kids, he had always pictured himself growing old with a woman he loved and raising a bunch of little humans. When he knocked up his girlfriend he was definitely not planning on becoming a father so soon in his life, but he was happy nonetheless. His history with his girlfriend was kind of complicated too, her family didn't like him much, or more precisely the fact that Charles' job made her travel around the globe, away from her family all the time. He knew that he loved her more than he had ever loved anyone in his life, he knew that every time he pictured himself in the future, that future was shared with her, but it would be a lie if he'd say that the pregnancy didn't complicate things. His in-laws weren't too happy when they found out and Charles' mother was kind of worried about the whole situation. But Charles and his girl loved that little "accident" more than life itself and they actually never cared too much about anyone else's opinions. He convinced his girlfriend to move in with him and she also agreed on keep traveling with him until she ultimately had to stay home for the baby's safety.
"Is six weeks really that bad, Amour? I mean, maybe you're jet lagged or something". Charles nervously wondered from sitting at the bottom of the bed, his girl anxiously pacing around the room.
"That's not how periods work, Charlie". She was trying to stay calm and not bark at him, but that was a difficult task.
"Then let's buy a test and find out". He got up and started walking to the door when she grabbed his arm.
"Wait! You can't just go to a pharmacy and buy a test!". She looked at him like he was insane.
"Why not?". If there was someone humble enough to always forget he's rich and famous, that was Charles.
"Because you're Charles fucking Leclerc, that's why!". She let go of his arm and ran her hand down her face, exasperated. "The press is going to have a field day if you do that".
"Shit, you're right". He sighed and his shoulders sunk. He could see her shaking, scared and stressed and all he wanted to do was give her answers so she could get some peace of mind. "I'm sorry, Amour, I just don't know what to do".
"Let's call Lorenzo, maybe Charlotte can buy it for us".
He watched her take care of everything: call his brother, open the door for him and Charlotte, explain the situation, decide over test brands with his sister in law, drink loads of water, all while he sat on the couch, his mind running faster than he had ever drove his Ferrari. How could she think so clearly even with how scared she was? What would he do if the test was positive? What if she didn't want to keep the baby? Why was he feeling so sad with the mere idea of the test turning up negative? Was he really ready to be a father? There were so many questions and so little answers. He could hear Charlotte walk out the door and his girlfriend go their room, he clearly felt his older brother sit by his side on the couch, but he just couldn't move. Lorenzo said something Charles never caught, too drown inside his own head.
"I really want this baby, Enzo". Was all he let out and his brother just squeezed his shoulder.
Charlotte came back pretty fast, a paper bag with at least five different tests for his girl to do. The older woman explained the younger which ones were more effective so they could compare the results later. The possible future mother lock herself into the bathroom while the other three waited outside. Charles felt like he waited for an eternity before she came out with the five little white sticks. She placed them over a napkin on the coffee table and Lorenzo set the timer. Now, they had to wait again. She was sitting on the same couch he was before, looking at everything but the tests in front of her, so he sat down and took her hand in his, hoping for the contact to be enough to ease her thoughts. He wasn't exactly the epitome of calmness and the sweat that covered his hand made it hard to grip at. She looked at him and smiled, she knew that he was going to be there for them, no matter what, but she was still scared of what he would think, she still needed to know if he really wanted this. Still, she refrained from asking and simply rested her head on his shoulder, searching for comfort on his scent. She had her eyes closed when she suddenly flew to the other side of the couch while Charles' loud yelp filled her ears.
"What the fuck was that?". She looked around, trying to find what could have startled him so much to trow her like that, but all she could see was Charles clumsily trying to grab one of the tests while his feet barely kept him up. She had never seen him so uncoordinated in the two years they had been together. His fingers had a mind of their own and his legs were trembling.
"Two lines, this one has two lines". Charles, who had been quiet and petrified for the past hour, was mumbling like a madman as he showed his brother one of the tests. In the background, the alarm set by Lorenzo started ringing and they all looked down at the coffee table, searching for the lines of truth. Charles grabbed the the tests smiling wide as he showed them to the others. "THEY ALL HAVE TWO LINES". He was hyperventilating, his whole body shaking and Lorenzo couldn't help but let out his loudest laugh as he watched his younger brother loose the little bits of sanity he had. "CAN YOU SEE IT, BABY?!". He shoved the sticks into his girlfriend's face. "It's a baby! We made a baby! Putain de merde! I'm going to be a Papa!".
"Yes, Charlie! I see it!". She said sharing his enthusiasm. But then she saw him go pale really fast. He walked backwards a few steps and Lorenzo caught him from behind before he could fall butt first on the ground.
"Okay, I think you need to process this rollercoaster of emotions while sitting on the couch, Cha". The older Leclerc helped his bother to sit down next to the now confirmed future mama. There, Charles took her hand and smiled, a high-like expression covering his eyes. He may be scared, but he had never been happier.
If Charles' reaction to the pregnancy was that chaotic, it was a sure thing that the following nine months would be as well. Before the first trimester was up, he had already brought another house to move to, where the baby could have their own room and a playroom. He brought every piece of Ferrari merchandizing he could find on the internet, he didn't even care if it was original or not. Was it pretty? Yes. Was it Ferrari? Yes. Then he was buying it. His girlfriend even went to the extent of taking away his cards and threatened with getting rid of wifi to make him stop. He didn't, took her extension in the middle of the night and kept binge-shopping for his baby at 4 am. He brought furniture for the bedroom and the playroom, and then he found his biggest rival till the day. A rival he wanted to beat more than Max Verstappen: a crib. She wasn't even showing and he was already putting a crib together, or let's rephrase it, fighting with the crib and losing pathetically.
"Cela n'a aucun sens". (This makes no sense). He complained while he tried to attach what was supposed to be 'Part B' to 'Part 3.1'. Why there was a part 3.1, he didn't know and was too stress out to try and figure it out. He growled, he literally growled when the whole crib came crushing down in front of him. "Je déteste cette merde". (I hate this shit).
"Charlie? What's wrong? I heard a loud noise". He looked at the mother of his child and all he could feel was embarrassment. "Are you alright?".
"Yes. I'm fine". He answered from the floor, looking at his lap. He wanted to cry, but he also didn't want to upset her.
"Hey, you know you can tell me anything, right?". She sat next to him on the floor and searched for his eyes, but he kept looking away from her. "What is it, Charles?".
"I-". He tried to start talking, but he was cut off by his own sob. She quickly made him turn towards her, looking for injuries, but he seemed to be physically fine. She saw the tears running down his face and did the best she could to wipe the away. Moving to sit on his lap, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed herself flat against him, trying to get as close as she could. He cried on her shoulder, soaking her his hoodie and crushing her with his arms around her waist. They stayed like that for a while, until Charles stopped crying. She scratched his head to calm him down and after some time, he did. In a painfully soft whisper, he admitted his fear to her. "I'm going to be a terrible Papa".
"Don't say that. We both know that's not true". Shushing him, she pulled away and grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. "Is this about the crib?".
"I've been fighting this crib for four days. Our baby is going to sleep on the floor and it's all my fault". She laughed and for a moment, she regretted it, seeing the hurt in his eyes. She calmed down and pecked his lips.
"Charlie, our baby has barely formed their ears yet, you have more than enough time to figure this out". He didn't look convinced at all.
"But what if I don't?". She smiled at him.
"I know you will. Do you want to know why?". He nodded and she ran her fingers through his hair to move it away from his face, so they could look into each others eyes and make him believe her. "Because you already are the best Papa in the world, Charles".
He won against the crib just in time to catch up with the worst part of the cravings period. They were into the fourth month of pregnancy and the little bump was proudly starting to show. Charles couldn't keep his hands away from it. He was constantly touching the bump, kissing the bump, talking to the bump, even scolding the bump whenever he saw some discomfort tinting his girlfriend's face. In the paddock he practically forced her to go everywhere with him and on interviews he answered every question while looking at her. He insisted on people staying at least ten centimeters away from her and he even took upon himself the task of preparing every meal she ate, just to make sure that it was safe and she didn't get food poisoned. He checked places' and foods' temperatures, chairs' and couches' safety, if her shoes were properly tied (at least 20 times a day), the only thing missing was him wrapping her on bobble wrapping. He safety proofed the every hotel room they stayed in so she wouldn't 'accidentally hit the bump against unknown furniture in the dark'. At some point, she had to put a stop to the madness, specially when Charles' newly-daddy paranoia messed with her cravings.
"Amour, what are you eating?". He asked when he caught her hiding with Lando and Max behind the Red Bull garage, a massive greasy half eaten hot dog on her hands. Lando was opening a mayonnaise sachet with his teeth and Max was feeding her french fries with his bare hands, all three of them sitting on the floor. It wasn't exactly the most sanitary situation, but the fuzzy feeling she felt inside her chest thanks to that hot dog made it all worth it. Charles could swear he had an aneurysm just by the sight of it all. "Where did you get that?".
"Uhm...". Her and Lando looked at Max, waiting for him to answer, since he was the one who brought it.
"Well... It's from a professional, I can assure you that, Charles". The monegasque frowned and Max swallowed, scared, just to find out his mouth was completely dry. He wasn't an easily scared guy, but something about Charles' over-protective-dad mood just terrified him.
"And where's the professional's place? Can you show me?". Max, still sitting on the floor, looked at everything but Charles.
"Oh, you see-".
"It's from the stand outside of the paddock". Lando blurted out, followed by him covering his mouth with both his hands and the three of them heard Charles growl.
"Max did you just feed my pregnant girlfriend a hot dog from a dirty street-stand? YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW IF THE PERSON WASHES THEIR HANDS-"
"They definitely don't, I mean, they don't have where to".
"Lando, you're not helping me, mate". Max advised, not moving his eyes from the fuming Charles above him. Then the pregnant girl decided to intervene.
"Charlie, babe, it's okay. I asked him to buy it for me". Charles then looked at her, his gaze softening a little, but still angry.
"Amour, you know that's not good for you". He walked to her and hooked his arms under hers to help her off the floor.
"But the baby wanted it". Max still followed Charles, afraid of what the future father could do to him for messing with his unborn baby's diet. Lando stayed very still, hoping to make himself invisible. "I was just craving this so bad! And you never let me have this type of food. The baby is fine, I promise".
"Don't do that face, it's not fair". He complained when she gave him her best puppy eyes. She didn't stop, and he finally dropped the attitude. "Okay, maybe we can make some room for a hot dog once in a while. But you have to keep eating healthy, we don't want the little Tifosi to come out malnourished".
"Yay!". She squealed and hugged him tight, the hot dog almost falling from her hand. Charles hugged her back and then directed his gaze towards the other two drivers.
"And you two". Max and Lando looked at him wide-eyed. "This better be the last time you pull off something like this. Did I make myself clear?".
"Yes, sir". Both said at the same time and got up from the floor.
"Okay, go on. And think about what you did". They nodded their heads, Max handing the girl the fries and then walking away with Lando.
"I like you daddy-voice". Charles shrugged at her comment.
"Amour, don't call it that or I won't be able to use it without laughing".
Charles' paranoia got better. He calmed down a little, but then the fear of being a bad father came back. Around the seventh month, already knowing they were having a boy, Charles found himself with insomniac. At the beginning of the pregnancy he was scared of not knowing what to do to take care of a baby's basic needs: bottle feed, change diapers, help him to sleep, and things like that. But as the date of the delivery got closer, Charles' fears shifted to the more existential type. What if he was unable to guide his son through life? What if he failed on teaching him good values and a strong sense of ethics? What if he ended up raising a spoiled kid, arrogant and narcissistic? What if he couldn't make his boy happy? What if his kid hated him? Those questions kept him up at night, turning over and over on the bed, and cold sweat covering his body. He would walk to the baby's room and look at the painting his girlfriend did on the walls, the name 'Jules' written on lilac on a clear sky, over the race track so carefully crafted. What if his son didn't want to race cars? What if he was forcing him to do so when he wasn't even born? Sitting on the rocking chair, he would look out the window, the yachts at the bay clearly visible from there. What if his son didn't like Monaco? What if his son would rather adopt his mother's nationality and culture over his? The dark sky adorned with shinny little dots would look back at him without answers.
"Charlie? Why are you up, love?". He heard his girl's sleepy voice call out to him from the doorway. He smiled at her, his eyes glossy as he fought the tears that wanted to escape.
"Just thinking, Amour. Don't worry". He gave her his best smile, but she could read his real feelings underneath it. "Go back to bed, I'll join you in a minute".
"I think we love each other enough to cut the bullshit, babe". She walked further into the room and stopped in front of him, her big belly at his face's height, and he couldn't help but reach forward and kiss it. "What is it?"
"It's... it's just a lot and it's late. Don't worry, really-"
"Charles, I'm not sleeping until I'm convinced that you're alright". He sighed, and pulled her to his lap. The weight was a little bit more than what he was used to, but he loved that, it made it impossible for him to overlook the fact that his baby was there, with them. He made her rest her back against his chest and rocked he chair, hugging her tight against him and resting his chin over her shoulder. They both looked out of the window and she patiently waited for him to tell her what was going on inside his mind.
"I'm scared. I feel this huge responsibility over Jules". She smiled, loving whenever they talked about their baby using the name they choose for him. "I just want to be a good Papa, but I'm so scared of messing up, of making the wrong choices, of using the wrong words, of leading him in the wrong direction. What if I don't raise him right? If I'm not a good role model?"
"Well, you're not alone in this, Charlie, I'm with you till the end of the line. Like Bucky and Steve. I know that we'll be alright. I just know it". She sounded so sure of herself. He wished he could be that sure about everything.
"How do you do it? How do you manage to always be so sure and composed?". She laughed and he felt the baby kick under his palm, he always kicked when she laughed.
"I've been the least composed person and you know it, Charlie! I break down crying at least five times a day. You've seen that! You're the one who comforts me every time". He laughed softly, that was true, those had been some pretty crazy seven months. A true rollercoaster of emotions. And they still had two more months to go. "I know that we'll be alright because we're already asking ourselves these questions. Because we care about Jules so much that we truly take time to think things through. We are going to be alright because we love our baby and we both know we will always do the best we can for him. We won't let the bad choices from our parents be repeated and we'll make sure to copy the best from them to give to Jules. That's why I'm so sure". She turned to look at him for a moment. "I trust you to be the dad of my baby because I know how great of a human being you are, Charles".
"I love you". He said, feeling a lot better. He kissed her tenderly, and then another kick was felt under his hand. "Thanks for being here for me, Amour".
"Always, just as you had always been for me". She nuzzled her nose against his. Another kick and they both laughed. "Let's go back to bed, Papa".
The two months passed by in a blink. Charles asked Ferrari to give him a leave of absence for the first two races of the season. He wanted to be world champion, but he would rather be there when his son was born. Ferrari let him take his time, but Jules decided to be born at eight and a half months. It seemed like he couldn't wait to meet his parents, because everything happened so fast that Charles had barely had any time to react. They were having lunch at his mother's house, and he was having the best time. His girl looked amazing, all radiant and happy, her belly covered by a cute but comfortable dress, his sisters in law both touching the belly and fighting for godmother duties. Lorenzo and Charlotte were definitely the chosen ones, but they hadn't tell anyone yet, after all both Lorenzo and Charlotte were there for them when they needed them. His mother was showing him little clothes that she had crocheted for Jules and his brothers discussing which one was going to be the 'responsible uncle' and who the 'funcle'. Arthur was definitely unable to be the responsible one, so he was already chosen to be the 'funcle'. Every conversation was cut short when the faint voice of the future mama rang through the air.
"Charlie". Her shaken voice called out, and he turned around to see what she needed. There was a wet patch under her and she was grabbing her belly, a painful expression on her face. "I think my water broke".
"The baby is coming!". Arthur shouted excitedly, but Charles' brain just stopped functioning. He saw everyone running around to grab things, Charlotte and Carla helping his girl out of the house and towards his car, Lorenzo grabbing the baby bag the carried around just in case since the beginning of the last trimester, Arthur pushing him outside and his mother speaking, but he just couldn't move. H was petrified. He felt like his blood pressure had dropped in a second and if it wasn't for Arthur behind him, he would have certainly fallen to the ground. His mother took his car keys out of his pocket and then they pushed him on the back seat, next to his girlfriend. Her hand crushing his brought him back from his outer-body state and he was able to react, turning to face her and running his other hand down her arm, doing his best to sooth her.
"It's okay, mon amour. Breath, breath with me". He instructed her and he started to exaggerate his breathing so she could copy her. She did and that calmed her down enough to count the seconds between one contraction and the next. "That's it, Amour, you're doing so good". He praised her and she smiled a little, her happy expression cut short by another waive of pain. She screamed and cried, sweat covering her forehead and running down her face, mixing with her tears. It was probably the most messy she had ever looked, but he had never seen her as beautiful as in that moment. "I love you so much". He whispered it, but by the squeeze she gave to his hand, he knew for sure she was saying it back. "We're almost there, hung on a little longer".
He almost carried her out of the car and into the hospital the second Arthur parked the car. Then, they found out that she was ready to deliver in that second. Jules didn't want them to keep him waiting, she was brought to the delivery room and Charles was given surgical gown so he could join her. Inside, the whole process was quick, in 30 minutes, Jules was crying on the doctors arms and Charles could feel his heart skip a beat. Wrapped on towel and with the small hat they had for him on, Jules was passed on to his mother, who took him instantly while she cried her eyes out. Charles, still on delay with reality, was trying to process the information. That was his baby, he was finally there, he could finally touch him. The doctor walked to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, Charles couldn't stop looking at his girl and little Jules. He heard a softly "go ahead, meet your boy", and that was enough for him to place a shaking and gentle hand on Jules' head. He ran his thumb over the soft little cheek and the tears started to fall. He felt his girl's hand wipe away his tears and heard her laugh softly. She just found funny that after overreacting about every little thing for the past eight months, Charles was barely able to react that day. He was a mess in that moment, but he was the perfect mess in her eyes. The most extraordinary mess. He finally smiled and reached down to kiss her head, then he looked at Jules.
"I am your Papa, Jules. I love you. I'm so happy to finally meet you".
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I hope you guys liked this one!
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Another one of my silly Epic headcannons is that Athena was also training baby Diomedes while she was training baby Ody.
Now while she helped heros Athena tended to try to not be at all involved with them. She even chose a champion but kept her distance. That is until her champion just decided to eat a guys brain.
She decided that not only she needed a new champion she needed someone she could mold so they would met her standards and more importantly not comit canibalism in front of her for no reason. First move magic boar.
Except she got bored no one was solving her test and did a move that would have very different results when repeated and went check on Tydeus kid. Six years old Diomedes was smart, dedicated and thanks to being raised as a child soldier already really good with a spear. And she was like "oh perfect". Unlike Ody, Dio is shy and very awed/respectfull at first.
Less than a year later ten year old Odysseus solves her test (now Diomedes is sayed to be four when his dad died, I'm not making that one up, but Ody's age is very open, Epic implies he already had Athena when he became king at 13 so I'm going with 10, the boar was his Pokemon journey). So she now has two chances.
She never figths with Diomedes but they get distant for a bit. When she goes for Telemachus she is hoping for second Diomedes and instead she remembers that a) Ody is one of her kids at this point b) she actually likes Odysseus c) Ody didn't ate people. Besides 3 warriors are better than one. She soons recognizes she just has 3 mortal friends.
Before the Troyan War Dio and Ody were not friends, buddies, Diomedes gay awakening, and in fact didn't know about the other except via Athena weird questions. Some memorable moments:
- When Odysseus becames king and is overwhelmed by anxiety and sadness over his father condicion. Athena goes "Diomedes what humans do when their fathers go mad" and Dio is "my dad is dead" + "how do I deal with my human being sad and anxious and make sure he'll be a good king when he is a child?" "I'm literally nine"
- Athena fails to explain her worries about Diomedes fate as a kid soldier and instead Ody is fully convinced she wants him to invade Thebes and starts to get ready for when the order comes. "Okay, goddess, for real do you want me to invade Thebes or not?" and Athena is like "No, but hypotetically if it distressed you" "It does sound distressing" "How do I help a crying human" "Have you tried conforting them? Maybe offer a hug."
- Thanks to Odysseus Athena knows puberty is a big deal for humans. But unlike Ody, Dio does not have active and present parents to help. So Athena goes to older teen Ody "how did your parents give you the talk?" and Odysseus is fully dying of embarassmenet after the conversation is over but Athena now has enough notes to give a sort of decent talk to her other kid.
- The moment Diomedes turns 17 Athena is fully expecting another "pleasepleasepleaseplease help me with Penelope" situation so they have akwards "Do you want me to like wingman you" conversations for a bit. [When Diomedes actually starts liking someone it is Odysseus and Athena is just "you have bad taste good luck with that one" and very unhelpfull].
- After getting bad advice from Dionysus and trolling from Apollo, Athena finally goes to her other human to ask for help about not noticing her human was expecting + tiny baby in no armor. Diomedes got his talk from Athena and suddently realizes he actually has no idea how babies are born and has very weird conversations with his war friends.
- Athena is fully used to talking to her champions and not being heard by anyone else. This cauuses a small problem when she is trying to advice Odysseus about Iphigenia and Diomedes is fully "what are you talking about?" and that how the War Crimes (with Extra Lying) Trio is founded.
- Unrelated but after realizing Telemachus could think it really was a Tydeus situation except with forgiving Athena goes to Telemachus to assure him his dad was not a family-murdering cannibal. Telemachus knows Ody would never kill his family but he had never even considered his father and cannibal in the same sentence before and is very concerned over why Athena felt the sudden urge to promisse him his dad never ate people.
#my other hc is that post epic#dio is going back from his fixing my albatroz crew mission and Athena leads him to Ithaca#and that's how dio learns about the Odyssey /maybe stays in there to not deal with Aeneias#epic the musical#odysseus#diomedes#epic athena#telemachus
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My Birdy Took Flight
A/N- I am aware I really need to write my asks and my Spencer Reid story but I am currently obsessed with Simon Riley okay!
Simon Riley x Sniper Reader
Readers pronouns- She/her
TW- Swearing, falling, injuries, and military inaccuracies but I mean it's COD and they have a zombie game so are going to attack them too? lol
Summary- Who knew the complete off-the-books mission would go off the rails and leave you with the worst rope burns of your life. The injuries however were not the scary part it was having to face Ghost and admit you fell out of the heli.
Word Count- 1991
This mission was completely off the books, asshole Shephard did not care at all that Kate had been taken hostage and would not send reinforcements for help. I've been working with Price and Kate since I was a recruit they are my family. There was no way I was leaving Kate to be killed. The plan was simple enough I stayed in the heli for overwatch while Price, Gaz, and Farah worked their way up the line. Things were going smoothly I've worked with Nik before he is one hell of a pilot. Things however took a turn for the worse an explosive hit the copter and I fucking fell out. I'm sure Nik and Captian thought I died for a moment but I was bloody hanging from the rope. I am lucky my sniper skills are still top-notch when I'm hanging upside down though I would prefer not to test it again. After that hiccup, we recovered Kate and she luckily had no physical injuries.
We returned to base that night and Price insisted I go to the med bay to get checked out. To quote his words, "You look like shit kid, get the hell to med bay before I drag you myself."
The medic rushed to treat me, but something told me that was Price's doing. They wanted to keep me here for observation due to my concussion from the explosion impact. I begged them not to I'd sleep way better in the barracks I hate the sanitary hospital smell, I even prefer the smell of gunpowder. The medic would not take no for an answer I wanted to fight them harder but they said they preferred my anger to Price's wrath. The medic left shortly after and would return sporadically to do random vital checks. At least I knew the concussion wasn't that bad as it didn't beckon me toward the darkness like other times. Though my raw skin kept me from finding any peace I honestly kind of miss the darkness. I spent the night tossing and turning the pain and clinical setting keeping sleep a far distance away from me.
The clock ticking was mocking me as I watched it hit four am. How are hospital settings supposed to help you heal when there is so much beeping and someone always coming into your room? Speaking of which I heard the door creak yet again didn't they just take my vitals ten minutes ago! I can't take this without thinking I launch the flat uncomfortable pillow at what I assumed would be the intern medic yet again only to lock eyes with Ghost looking as shocked as I did.
"That's one hell of a greeting darling," he says in his usual deep voice. My eyes are still wide with shock that I just hit my superior with a pillow but he takes this opportunity to speak again. "Heard you took flight today, Gaz was telling everyone."
I wince at the thought of everyone knowing I failed to hold on during the explosion and try to change the subject to avoid thinking about it, "Aren't you supposed to be on a mission with Soap?"
"Just got back. Johnny and Gaz are out celebrating," he responds.
"They are out celebrating at four am?" I question.
"You know Johnny no one can outdrink the Scott," he says like it's the most obvious thing the world.
"Well, why aren't you out there celebrating with them?"
"My birdy took flight and thought it only decent to check up on her," any other time I would have dwelled on the fact that he said 'my birdy' but he placed his hand on my welted ankle and I could not suppress the groan. His eyes quickly shift to concern and he rips the scratchy hospital blanket off me.
"Ghost!" I shout at him for having the audacity to rip the blanket off me. He has no right to barge in here and act like he's in charge, he may be the boss of me in the field but he is not my doctor and I do not care for showing off my nasty ass wounds to my team members.
He does not acknowledge my shout at him in the slightest instead his full attention is on my rope-burned ankles."What quack treated this," he growled.
"I'm fine," I try to yank my foot out of his grasp but he holds tighter.
"Yeah because the skin falling off your ankle looks spectacular," he says sarcastically.
"Wow you sure know how to treat a girl," I roll my eyes.
"Haven't heard any complaints," he says nonchalantly as if that innuendo wouldn't have Soap applauding.
"Seriously, it's fine. Go celebrate with the team," I assure.
"If you think I am letting you let your ankle get infected you are off your rocker. I am going to need names, sweetheart," he commands.
The nickname glides out of his mouth so easily it's as if he had said it a hundred times. I want to stay as calm and collected as him but I unfortunately stutter, "What names?" God, it's a good thing I'm a sniper and not a spy because I would be dead.
"Of the idiot docs who treated this," he speaks as if it's obvious.
I sigh, "It's not their fault... I didn't tell them. Price only knew about the concussion and I just wanted to get out of here as soon as possible."
"Ah so you're the idiot," he growls.
"Can you not be mean to me I did just fall out of a heli."
"Shut up you lived," he rolls his eyes, gently places my foot down, and turns to leave.
"Please don't take your anger out on the medics," I beg.
"Oh trust me darling I will be taking my anger out on you," he growls yet again.
I shiver, "Where are you going then?"
"To get some medical supplies for your dumbass. No one way I'm letting a medic treat you when you will just lie to them."
"What makes you think I won't lie to you?" I tease well aware that I am in no place to be teasing.
He chuckles an evil kind still it's one of the best I've heard, "Me and you both know you aren't capable of it."
He exits the room and I am unsure if I want to slap him or rip that mask off and kiss him... I am definitely incapable of either. I may be able to beat Soap, Gaz, and even Price on the mat but no one can best Ghost. I, unfortunately, hear him shouting at medics for a damn first aid kit... so much for him taking out his anger on me.
He returns rather quickly but does not speak as he meticulously places the first aid supplies by my bedside.
He pours some alcohol on my rope burn and I hiss loudly, "shit a little warning would be nice."
"You would have just fought harder. Need to clean the debris out who fuckin knows how old that rope was."
"Aw is Ghosty worried about me," I pout.
"Thought I told you and Johnny to stop calling me that, you want me to make this hurt worse than it already does?"
I roll my eyes at him and in response, he presses the gauze harder than necessary. "You asshole!"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I can see his wicked smile through his balaclava.
"Yeah sure," I huff. "You know..." I smile mischievously. "This would go a lot faster if you just kissed it better."
"Oh really," I could hear the grin in his voice. I was expecting him to make some snide comment in return instead he finishes wrapping my ankle and lifts his mask to rest on the bridge of his nose.
I am sure my eyes widen to the size of saucers. I feel like a Victorian man seeing a woman's ankle. His grin widens it could only be compared to the Cheshire cat's smile. He gently lifts my ankle to his lips but does not stop there. He places delicate kisses all the way up to my thigh. I think I have officially stopped breathing. Then my heart decides to do the most embarrassing thing ever. It speeds up so atrociously fast that the monitors start beeping incredibly loud. That's it I have officially died there is no coming back my face is melting off from how flushed I am.
Ghost sits back and laughs and I mean properly laughs, I have never seen him like this. "This is a good look on you birdy all red and flustered, all for me too." He pulls his mask back down but I can still see the smile in his eyes.
"Shut up! I am a highly trained sought-after sniper, I don't get flustered!" I feel like that would have sounded better if I didn't stutter each word.
Ghost glances at my heart rate monitor, "Your heart says otherwise."
A medic comes in as the dumb machine won't stop beating, "Are you alright? You're looking quite flushed and your blood pressure is higher than it was when you first came in."
I swear I could see the smugness radiating off Ghost. God I want to strangle him.
"She's fine thanks to me," his eyes squint at me and I know he has a huge grin under that balaclava. He then turns to the medic, "Don't you know the 141 are notorious liars and the worst patients! Next time call me down here as soon as she is being treated."
The poor medic flinches at Ghost's rough voice and can barely whisper, "Yes, sir"
I mouth, 'I'm so sorry," to the medic he looks appreciative.
The medic flees as soon as my blood pressure normalizes. Ghost roughly throws his body onto the uncomfortable hospital chair and groans.
"What are you doing? Shouldn't you be going back to the barracks," I glance as he makes himself comfortable well as comfortable as one can be in a torn hospital chair.
"In a rush to get rid of me birdy?"
"Is that name going to become a thing," I roll my eyes.
"Only for me, if anyone else has the nerve to call you that I'll gut them," he replies.
"Even Johnny?"
"Especially Johnny," He grins.
I smile, "Seriously Ghost you should go sleep in your own bed that chair cannot be comfortable. I'd be in my bed if they would let me escape."
"I know you can't stand hospitals, I won't let you be sleepless and cranky alone."
"Fine, then at least share the bed with me, I forbid you from sleeping on that fifty-year-old chair."
"The fact that you think you can forbid me from doing anything sweetheart is laughable. Are you sure you want me to be over there might make your heart monitor scream again?" He makes his way over to the bed despite his words.
I roll my eyes, "I'll manage."
He lays on the small hospital bed and takes up ninety percent of it but I don't mind it because it doesn't smell like hand sanitizer and blood anymore it smells like him.
"Goodnight birdy," he kisses the top of my head and my heartrate monitor instantly starts beeping annoyingly again.
"Goddammit," I groan and he just laughs.
"You would make a terrible spy with all those emotions, you're lucky the red face works on you." he chuckles.
"You're just jealous of my amazing sniping abilities you must point out my flaws," I poke his chest.
"You ain't got no flaws birdy except the fact that you're stubborn as hell. Now go to sleep before I knock you out myself."
"Yes LT.," I fake salute him and he rolls his eyes.
Sleep comes so much faster in the med bay when you aren't alone, I wish falling asleep would always be this easy.
#simon riley x you#simon riley x y/n#simon riley x reader#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#ghost x reader#cod x reader#cod x you#cod x y/n#ghost simon riley#ghost simon riley x reader#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#call of duty x y/n
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Steddie | R: Explicit (for eventual smut) | WC:4541 | Ch 1/8 | AO3
Chapter 1: Ghost of Yesterday
Two days after they failed to defeat Vecna, after Max died and came back, after Eddie died—and didn’t. Two days after they were forced to leave his body behind in the Upside Down because everything had gone to shit, a bright yellow pizza delivery van that looked like it’d been through its own apocalypse pulled into the Wheeler's driveway.
Jonathan, Mike, Will, and El finally made it home to Hawkins with the help of a friend.
On day three, Max woke up.
She’d have a long road to recovery, but the doctors seemed fairly confident she’d walk again. Though, no one could be sure how much of her eyesight would return, if any. The same day, in a twist no one saw coming, Joyce showed up, fresh off a plane from Alaska after escaping Russia—yes, Russia—with a miraculously alive and mostly well Jim Hopper.
And four days after the world both did and then didn’t end, the ghost of Eddie Munson appeared in Steve’s living room.
The kids and older teens, including the newest member of the doomsday squad, Argyle, were having an off-the-books meeting. After everything they’d done and been through, the so-called ‘adults’ were attempting to pull their same old shit, trying to sideline the younger set for their own, supposed, safety.
Steve sort-of agreed about Dustin and the others, they were still too young and had already lost so much, but if Hopper, Joyce, and whoever the hell else thought they were going to bench him? They had another think coming, and he was pretty sure Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan felt the same way too.
But, whether he agreed or not, what he wouldn’t do was stop the kids from helping to come up with a plan. Because damned if he knew what the hell they should do next.
Dustin leaned forward from his spot on the couch wedged between Erica and Will, steepling his fingers together in front of him. “So let me test my understanding. You set him on fire, and shot him—multiple times. He fell out of a third story window, and he just went… poof? Vanished without a trace?”
There was a collective groan from the room, everyone except for Lucas and El who were at the hospital sitting with Max, and of course Dustin himself.
Robin rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, yes, Dustin. How many times do we have to go over this?”
“I’m just laying out the facts!” Dustin snapped back. “Clearly we got something wrong here. We underestimated Vecna, and by a lot.”
“And how is repeating our obvious failure helpful?” Nancy asked, a little defensively.
Steve understood the attitude, he'd also been wresting with his guilt since that fateful night.
“The scientific method!” Dustin answered with a bit of the same slightly forced cheerfulness he'd been displaying ever since Max woke up. He held up a hand, ticking each step off on his fingers as he spoke. “Question, research, hypothesis, experiment, data analysis, conclusion.”
“I got a question—“ Erica pursed her lips, giving Dustin such intense side-eye Steve wondered if it was actually painful. “Why are you such a nerd?”
Dustin sighed, as though it were everyone else annoying him instead of the other way around. “The question is—if Vecna is just a guy with powers like El, how could he have survived this long in the Upside Down? What’s keeping him alive?”
Okay, fine. Attitude or not, Steve hadn’t really thought about it but maybe the kid had a point.
“The hive mind!” Robin offered up.
“Possibly.” Dustin nodded to her. ”Probably. So, what does that tell us?”
Erica crossed her arms, leaning back heavily into the couch. “I don’t know Mr. Clarke, you wanna share your thoughts with the class?”
“I didn’t say I had all the answers.”
“That’s a first,” Robin mumbled.
“I’m just trying to get us brainstorming here!”
A flutter of movement pulled Steve’s admittedly already drifting attention away from discussion at hand. Something in the corner, the air there shifting and bending strangely, a little like the way heat shimmers off a sun drenched black top. He watched through his periphery, not daring to actually turn his head to look as a familiar figure materialized there.
Fuck.
Though he looked confused and disoriented at first, it wasn’t long before the long-haired apparition tried approaching one of them.
Steve swallowed hard, his throat growing painfully tight. He fought to keep his face neutral as the ghost raised a hand in front of Dustin's face, calling the boy's name loudly before moving on to Erica, then Nancy—and Steve panicked, knowing he had to do something before the figure tried the same with him.
“Water,” he muttered, mainly to Robin as he rose and bumped her shoulder. She was the only one really paying attention to him anyway, while the others still argued the physics and limitations of the alternate dimension.
Steve fled for the relative quiet and safety of his kitchen. He just needed a minute alone to get his shit together, but he should have expected the phantom footfalls that followed him across the tile floor to the cabinet.
As he took out a tall glass with shaking hands, the ghost hopped up to sit on the counter just beside him and started talking to himself.
“What the hell does a guy gotta do to get a little attention, huh?” The figure held up his slightly transparent hands in front of his own face, turning them over and back again. “I-I’m kinda freaking out here.”
Under the show of irritation he sounded sad, and a little terrified.
“They can’t see you,” Steve muttered softly, regretting it the second the words passed his lips.
He knew better than to engage with ghosts.
Since the moment he’d first shown signs of the gift, he’d been taught by his late grandfather to leave the spirit world be, and mind his own goddamn business.
He’d only broken the rules one other time, about a month or so after they learned the full truth of what happened to Barb and he’d seen her essence lurking around his pool at night. That experience had only served to further prove the old man’s point.
Nothing good ever came from acknowledging the dead.
But this was Eddie.
They’d fought together, bled together. Eddie was his–his ally, his compatriot, his friend.
And towards the end there Steve was even starting to think that maybe… maybe one day they could be more, if he ever got up the courage to flirt back.
Not that it mattered now.
“No shit, Harrington!” Eddie spat. “I’ve been waving my hands in front of their faces, screaming Dustin's name at the top of my lungs and getting jack squat back in return. I mean what the fu—”
With a sad little smile Steve turned, finally looking straight at the other boy just in time to see his eyes go impossibly wide.
“Wait—holy shit! Harrington, does this mean you can see me?!”
Steve winced, grimacing at the sheer volume of Eddie's voice. “And hear you, unfortunately.”
Who knew the loudest guy he’d ever met would be even louder in death.
Actually, that tracked.
“Steve?” Robin’s voice filtered in as she called out to him from the other room.
Steve took a deep breath, locking eyes with the adorably confused looking ghost haunting his kitchen as he shouted back to her. “Yeah?” He raised a hand to his head, rubbing at the bridge of his nose just as Robin appeared in the doorway.
“What are you up to in here?” She asked.
“Oh, just…” Steve trailed off, trying and failing not to track Eddie’s movements as he hopped down off the counter and began to stalk towards Robin, a determined, mischievous glint in his eye.
“ …talking to myself.”
Her eyebrows furrowed in concern. “You okay?”
“Are you okay she asks,” Eddie grumbled, tipping his head mockingly from side to side. “Pfft—I’m the one who’s invisible. Why isn’t anyone asking if I’m okay?”
“Um,” Steve fought to keep a level expression and not laugh, even as Eddie blew wet raspberries and made increasingly silly faces inches from an oblivious Robin’s nose. “No, actually. I think I might have a migraine coming on,” he lied.
“You want me to get everyone to leave?” She asked.
Yes, good plan!
In fairness he wasn’t exactly feeling his best. He was exhausted. It had been a long few days.
A long… week and a half?
Years.
It had been a long few years.
And he needed some time alone with Eddie, to talk.
“That'd be great, yeah. Thanks, Rob.”
“Sure thing. Why don't you go get in bed with your eye mask on, and I'll bring water and painkillers up?”
“Oooh,” Eddie crooned. “His majesty sleeps with an eye mask? Fancy.”
Ugh, why were all of Steve’s favorite people such fucking smartasses? He glared at Eddie before he could stop himself. Which meant he was staring daggers at a blank wall right now, right in front of Robin, leaving her looking more concerned than ever.
Shit.
He should have known she’d wanna stay behind and take care of him.
“I—um, t-that’s okay,” Steve stuttered out. “M-maybe you should just go on home too.”
Her face fell.
Hacking and wheezing, he forced a fake coughing fit in her direction, only barely covering his mouth with his hand.
“Very convincing,” Eddie commented with clear sarcasm.
Robin wrinkled her nose, recoiling like the germaphobe Steve knew and loved.
“Sorry, I think I'm coming down with a cold or something actually. You should get out while you still can.”
Robin bit at her lip, looking mildly dubious, but eventually she nodded. “Fine. Just promise you’ll call me if it gets any worse, or if you need anything?”
“I promise.”
While everyone cleared out, Steve hid in the kitchen, finally getting that drink of water he so desperately needed—his throat was on fire now that he thought about it—and splashed some more cold water from the sink on his face for good measure.
“You sure you’re not actually coming down with something?” Eddie asked, sitting back up on his perch on the counter. “You don’t look so hot.”
“I’m fine,” Steve said with practiced ease, though his head was beginning to throb a bit. Maybe that migraine thing wasn’t as much of a lie as he’d thought.
With the house now safely empty of prying eyes and ears, he ventured back out into the living room, with Eddie hovering along behind, and locked the deadbolt on the front door before plopping down hard on the couch, letting his head rest against the back of it.
“Okay, so what’s the plan?” Eddie asked, pacing back and forth along the floor in front of him.
Steve let his head loll to one side. “Plan?”
Eddie groaned, stopping in his tracks to throw his head up to the ceiling. “Why couldn’t it be Henderson who can see me.”
Okay, rude.
“A plan, y'know?” Eddie went on. “To get me back? To get me out of the Upside Down or whatever purgatory I'm currently languishing in?”
Steve could only stare at him blankly for a moment as the words sank in. “Eddie—” he began hesitantly, sitting up straight.
“What? Don't tell me you’ve all given up on me already?”
Oh.
Oh, no.
Steve had heard about this, how sometimes spirits don’t realize they’ve passed on, but surely Eddie had to know. What other possible explanation could he have for suddenly becoming invisible and incorporeal?
“Eddie, what is it you think is happening here, exactly?” He asked, praying he was wrong but bracing himself for the worst. How on earth do you go about telling someone you care about that they’re dead?
“Well, clearly I–I'm…” Eddie sputtered haughtily for a moment before looking away. “I'm not sure. I’ve been separated from my body somehow, obviously. S-so It’s gotta be some weird Vecna shit, right? And uh, you can hear me and see me b-because… because we both got bit by the bats and it gave us, like, our own little freaky hive-mind type… thing?”
He sounded less and less sure as he went on, and Steve’s heart ached for him. He remembered the bats attacking him part, but not the dying part. That just seemed cruel.
“Eddie, um,” Steve cleared his throat, rubbing his hands together nervously. “I don’t know how to tell you this but you… you died.”
“Bullshit,” Eddie snorted.
“I’m sorry, but it’s true. We came back from the Creel house and you…” Steve paused, struggling for a second to force his words past the sudden lump in his throat. “Dustin was sitting there with your—”.
“No.” Eddie shook his head roughly. “No–no, because, if I'm dead… then how is it you can see me? Huh?! Explain that!”
“It runs in my family. My dad doesn't have the gift but my grandfather was able to see ghosts, and his father before that.”
“Suuure, Harrington,” Eddie’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “So—not only am I supposed to believe that I'm dead, but also that you’re descended from some long line of ghost whisperers? Is this a joke to you?! I’m in dire need of–of fucking rescue, and you’re over here trying to fuck with me? Not cool, man. Not cool.”
Steve stood, almost reaching out as he itched to comfort the other boy in some way, but he knew well that it was pointless. “I’m not, I swear I'm not messing with you. I know it’s not what you want to hear, and I'm so sorry but I'm telling you the truth. Dustin, he—” Steve’s voice cracked. “You didn’t have a pulse, Eddie.”
“Stop it!” Eddie snapped.
“I’m sorry, really. I–”
“I said stop!”
With a choked off sob Eddie moved to shove him away, only to stumble when his hands found nothing solid, or rather, as Eddie’s ghostly and very not solid form passed right through Steve’s body.
Steve held his breath as he waited for it, the sensation of being doused in a bucket of ice water, the spine tingling, creepy crawly thing he’d felt the only other time he’d let a ghost near enough to touch.
But this was nothing like that.
Eddie felt… warm. And while Steve still shivered it wasn’t because the failed touch had been bad or painful. Quite the opposite, actually. He was left with a pleasant buzzing in his core, the initial warmth lingering, wrapping around him like an embrace before fading slowly.
Maybe all spirits were different. Maybe Barb had felt cold because she’d hated him, because it was his pool she died in—his fault she was out there in the first place.
But Eddie was…
Oh shit—Eddie.
Steve spun to find him on the floor with his knees pulled up, hugging them to his chest, his huge brown eyes shining with unshed tears.
Could ghosts cry?
Steve knelt down next to him, biting back a wince as the movement pulled at the bandages hiding beneath his shirt. He’d need to change those again tonight, they felt tacky with dried blood.
Eddie's voice shook when he finally spoke again. “I’m—dead?’
Steve bowed his head in a solemn nod. He would have given anything in that moment to be able to wrap his arms around Eddie.
“T-the bats?”
“There were just too many of them,” Steve explained. “It looked like you put up a hell of a fight, but I think you bled out.”
“My uncle, Wayne, do you know if he—” Eddie trailed off, worrying his bottom lip.
“Dustin talked to him. He couldn't risk telling him everything, but he gave him your guitar pick, and told him you were a hero. That you died a hero.”
Eddie barked a wet laugh, shaking his head.
“It’s the truth," Steve said, hoping his tone left no room for doubt. "If you hadn't distracted them we never would have made it into that attic. And If you hadn’t led them away when you did…” He didn’t need to say it, they both knew Dustin could—and likely would—have been hurt or worse, and those things would have gone through the gate and into the right side up.
It was exactly what Steve would have done too, had their roles been reversed.
“How long has it been?” Eddie asked, quietly.
“Three? No–no, four days.”
“And Vecna?”
“Down, but not out. We wounded him for sure but he got away. That's why everyone was here tonight.”
“Okay,” Eddie blew out a long breath, rubbing hard at his eyes. “What happens now? Do you like, help me find the light or something?” His eyes darted around as though some doorway or portal might appear right there in the living room. “Or maybe I'm going the other way. I can think of a few reasons the big guy might not let me upstairs, but what do I know, maybe self-sacrifice gets you a free pass?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? Isn’t this your legacy or whatever?”
“I’ve never done,” Steve waved a hand, gesturing between the two of them. “This before. I was taught to ignore the dead. Pretend I can't see them just like everyone else and let them go about their business.”
“How come?”
“Grandfather said if you get too involved, if the dead find out you can see them they’ll never leave you alone. That it’s dangerous. The dead linger for a lot of reasons, but the most common are unfinished business and revenge. Lots of angry spirits out there according to the Harrington journals.”
Eddie tilted his head thoughtfully. “Am I really the first ghost you’ve ever talked to?”
Steve thought of Barb again, the way her face had morphed into a rage-filled mask when he revealed he’d been able to see her all along, but he pushed it forcefully out of his mind.
And lied.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“I just told you, my grandfather—”
“No,” Eddie cut in. “I mean why, after a lifetime of ignoring ghosts, did you choose to acknowledge me?”
“B-because, you’re—“ Steve faltered, not knowing quite how to put it into words. He wasn’t sure even he totally understood. Yes he’d started developing a crush on the guy, but it was more than that. They had a connection, Steve felt it, even if Eddie didn’t. And maybe it was normal—inevitable even, when you get thrown into this shit together. But whether it was all just trauma bonding or something more, Steve couldn’t deny the pull.
“You’re—” he tried to say again as he pushed himself to his feet, only to double over, sucking air through his teeth as the dull pain in his sides turned searing and sharp.
“Steve?” Eddie shot up as he spoke, sounding worried.
“‘M fine,” Steve grit out, managing to straighten his posture without another outburst. “Jus' tired.”
Eddie raised a single eyebrow, but thankfully didn’t argue, silently following Steve as he headed for the staircase and began to climb.
Of course, this was Eddie, so he was only capable of being silent for so long.
“Hey, how come I can’t touch you, but I can walk up the stairs?”
“I don’t know,” Steve huffed out, breath stuttering as he neared the top landing.
Just a few more steps.
“Do you think I could, like, sit on a couch, or—or lay in a bed?” Eddie asked.
“I don’t know,” Steve repeated, trying not to sound as annoyed and in pain as he felt. He just had to make it to his room, get these stupid wounds cleaned and then he could pass out for a few hours. Maybe then he’d be able to answer questions and figure out what to do about all this.
“What if I—”
“Eddie!” Steve barked from the top step, whirling to face him. He nearly lost his balance before catching himself with a hand on the wall. His sides were screaming at him and the throbbing in his head was getting worse too. “I really don’t know any more than you do. I don’t know all the ins and outs, or why things work the way they work. Can you please just give it a rest for a minute?”
Eddie wilted, dropping his gaze to his feet. “Sorry.”
Fuck.
“No,” Steve sighed. ”No, I'm sorry, I shouldn’t be… y’know, when you’re—”
“Dead?!” Eddie snapped, raising his head again. He looked hurt.
“Sorry.” Steve sucked his lip between his teeth.
“Whatever.”
“Eddie—”
Eddie stomped past him and into the upstairs hallway. “Spare me the pity party. It doesn’t matter anyway. I’m telling you, if I was dead, I'd know it.”
Steve opened his mouth to argue but snapped it shut again without another word. He didn’t have the energy, and If that was what Eddie needed to believe for now to get through this, then who was he to tell him what to think? It wouldn’t change the facts but if it made him feel better, what was the harm?
Somehow Eddie had guessed the right door. He waited, leaning up against the opposite wall and very deliberately didn’t look at Steve as he walked over, and pushed into his bedroom.
Steve went right through to the bathroom to get this over with, not bothering to close the door behind him, assuming Eddie would be able to walk right through anyway if he wanted to.
Eddie did follow, still silently brooding as he found another piece of wall to hold up.
Steve ignored him for now, he felt awful but he’d try to apologize again later once the other boy had calmed down, and carefully peeled his shirt off as he stood in front of the mirror.
The bandages at his sides looked gnarly and gross. He’d bled again, and it looked like there was something yellow seeping into the huge squares of gauze too. He turned his body to the side, looking over his shoulder to see how the road rash on his back was doing. It looked better than the front, but that wasn’t saying much. The skin around the wide scrapes was red and inflamed. He couldn’t cover those on his own and could really only clean them in the shower, but they were shallow at least and would eventually heal on their own, he figured.
A quiet gasp reminded him of his audience, and a quick glance over through the mirror showed Eddie staring at his torso with wide eyes.
“It looks worse than it is,” Steve said quietly, quickly looking away. Which wasn’t exactly true but the last thing he needed right now was another person trying to force him to go to the hospital.
He knew some first aid.
It was fine.
Turning back to face the sink, Steve ran water over a washcloth and held it to each of his dressings to soak them off. The air stung when it finally hit the wounds, as though they'd been freshly opened, and, sure enough, there was definitely some pus seeping from the edges.
No problem. He’d just have to clean them extra thoroughly.
Gritting his teeth, Steve poured a hefty amount of peroxide on a new clean washcloth and began to gently pat his right side.
The pain was instant and excruciating.
Bile rose in his throat, a cold sweat breaking out across his body as the world around him swam. Steve swayed on his feet, dropping the cloth to the ground as he himself began to fall.
A sudden warmth at his back, and strong hands wrapping around his chest were the only thing that kept him on his feet. Carefully avoiding the worst of his wounds, Eddie had caught him, holding the bulk of his weight until the spinning in his head stopped.
The moment Steve could stand on his own again Eddie jumped back as though he’d been burned.
Steve’s eyes snapped up, locking with Eddie’s in their reflections as he realized with a start what had just happened.
“How?” He whispered. He could still feel the imprint of Eddie’s hands where they had cradled him to his chest. He’d felt so… real, so solid, so—alive for that handful of seconds.
“I-I don't know!” Eddie said, a little too loud in the small space. “I didn’t even think, or-or like, I forgot that I couldn't. I saw you about to go down and I didn't want you to hurt yourself.”
“I didn’t think it was possible." Steve took a step towards him. "You should try to do that again.”
Eddie tucked his hands behind his back, moving as far away as he could without actually leaving the room. “Don't we have more important things to worry about? Like maybe getting you to a hospital?”
“No.” Steve shook his head. “I told you, it looks worse than it is.”
It was abundantly clear that Eddie didn’t believe him, but something about the accidental touch had freaked him out enough that he let it go.
As quickly as he could, Steve finished cleaning the ruined expanse of his stomach and got both sides wrapped in fresh bandages, managing to do so without nearly fainting this time, and threw a clean t-shirt on to hide the evidence. Hopefully that would stop Eddie looking at him with those big brown fucking sad worried eyes of his.
Out of sight, out of mind, and all that.
As much as he liked Eddie’s attention on him, these weren’t exactly the circumstances he would have hoped for.
Steve shut the lights off, and climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin.
“We should try it again,” Steve mumbled through a long drawn-out yawn.
Eddie laughed softly from his corner hiding spot. “What was that, big boy?”
Steve wished he’d try to join him on the bed, but didn’t know how to ask. He untangled one of his arms from the sheets, reaching a hand out in Eddie’s direction. “Touch me?”
The room was dark, and it could have been that Steve was a little delirious but he was pretty sure a light blush crept over Eddie's cheeks as he took a step closer, his own ringed hand outstretched.
The sight set off butterflies fluttering in his stomach.
Steve waited to feel the tips of their fingers brush, was desperate to feel Eddie’s touch again if he was honest, but it was no use, Eddie’s long digits passed right through.
“Maybe we have to–” Steve interrupted himself with another deep yawn. His body still ached but now that he was tucked in and warm in his bed, it was getting hard to fight the inevitable.
“Just go to sleep, man,” Eddie said, his lips quirking into a small crooked smile. “It's not like I'm going anywhere.”
It should have been awkward, or weird to know someone would be there all night, lurking around while he slept, but as Steve drifted off he felt safer than he had in a long time, oddly comforted by the fact that Eddie would be there watching over him, even if he was just a ghost.
Thanks as always to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta and an absolutely amazing cheerleader!
Permanent taglist(open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers @bookworm0690 @wonderland-girl143-blog
@goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari @awkwardgravity1 @rocknrollsalad
Fic taglist (open): @sidekick-hero
#steddie fanfic#ghost eddie munson#reluctant medium steve harrington#happy ending#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington/eddie munson#steddie fic
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IOTA Reviews: Revelation and Confrontation
Well, here we are. The final seven episodes of the season. For the most part, Season 5's episodes have been boring at worst and passable at best, with only about four episodes I'd consider to be outright bad. That pretty much disappears starting here. It's like the writers held back for most of the season, and just as the final arc was about to begin, right when most of the audience was led into a false sense of security, they were like:
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Let's get into the twentieth and twenty-first episodes of Miraculous Ladybug's fifth season: Revelation and Confrontation
So, for an episode titled “Revelation”, you'd assume it would focus on Marinette and Adrien finally learning the other's secret after all these years, right? Nope, it's a Lila episode, as in Lila is the character we follow. How does it open? By revealing that Lila has different moms she's conning into believing she's their daughter.
I believe Linkara best captures my reaction to this.
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YEP. Right out of the gate, we get arguably one of the dumbest plot twists in TV history. For an episode that's supposed to help us learn more about Lila's life, it's only raising more questions than it's answering, and it feels like it was there just for the sake of shocking the audience.
First off, why is she doing this? What does she possibly have to gain living with three random women who, as far as I can tell, have no political, social, or financial power whatsoever? Her entire motivation is lying to make herself look good so she can kiss up to famous people and ride the coattails of their success. Who the hell are these three people and why did Lila chose to pretend to be their daughter? In fact, are any of them even her biological mother?
Second, how did she even pull this off? I can somewhat buy her tricking her peers into believing her lies, but three grown women all believe this person is their daughter? Did she fake a DNA test or something? Did she frame some other kids for murder? Is one of them the kid in Omelas? Did the other moms adopt Lila? They must have, because I'm pretty sure any of them would know they were pregnant, but how did she fake being an orphan? How has she not been caught? The scene establishing this shows her ending a call with one of her mothers right as another one enters her room. You're telling me nobody has ever walked in on Lila talking with one of her mothers?
Third, just how long has she been doing this for? Has she been doing this her entire life? Did she frame her real mother for tax fraud at the age of five so she could explore the world? When the hell did she start doing this, and how did she even get the resources to do it? Does she have more than three moms?
Finally, what the hell does any of this tell us about Lila? We already know she's a liar and a villain, but what does learning she lies about who her mother is accomplish for the narrative. Outside of a single line to Sabine later on that heavily implies she wants to make her her next mother, this scene is entirely pointless. Sure, it shows how effective of a liar she is, but that's what the episode is already setting out to show us! We already know she's manipulative, so what's the point of any of this?!
Jesus Christ, we're only on the first scene, and I'm already pissed off. You see what I mean about these last seven episodes?
After lying some more, Lila learns an update to the Alliance rings has Kagami replace her as the female avatar. When she goes to ask Gabriel why he's cutting off ties with her, we learn just why Gabriel is such a tactical genius.
Gabriel: You were only the face of my brand in exchange for a mission: to monitor my son's relationships and keep him away from bad company. You failed. My son got close to this Marinette Dupain-Cheng who's been nothing but a terrible influence on him. But you did give me one excellent idea: to create a new media-friendly pairing for my son, which is why Kagami Tsurugi will be the new female face of the Gabriel brand. Perfection itself! All that remains to do is perpetuate this facade until it becomes truth in everyone's eyes. And until jealousy eats away at Marinette Dupain-Cheng...
Lila: But... What's to become of me?
Gabriel: You just remain what you are. Nothing.
Because it's not like Lila is easily your most competent ally (at least, by comparison), and is the only one who doesn't hate your guts, right? Seriously, Lila's biggest motivation other than fame is to ruin Marinette's life, and for the most part, as bad as the writing has been, she has been mostly effective in damaging her reputation (Chameleon, Ladybug, Adoration). For God's sake, if it wasn't for her, you would have been exposed as Monarch earlier this season in “Illusion”! Say what you will about Lila as a character and how stupid everyone acts when she's on-screen, but at least she's good at her job.
Lila walks off fuming, and Gabriel considers akumatizing her, but doesn't want to risk it because of how much she hates him... even though multiple Akumas over the course of the show were people who hated Gabriel or wanted revenge on him (The Bubbler, Simon Says, Style Queen, Heart Hunter, Passion, Action). It also doesn't stop him from akumatizing Lila later on in the episode, because her hatred is now directed at Marinette. And as we all know, it's physically impossible to hate more than one person at a time.
After a quick scene showing Marinette and Adrien's relationship is now public knowledge, we cut to class, where Ms. Bustier is handing back tests.
Also, despite being in the second trimester of her pregnancy (which hasn't been mentioned since the New York Special, over two years before this episode premiered), Ms. Bustier is wearing no maternity clothes to speak of, just her usual outfit with a noticeable baby bump.
I'm obviously not an expert, but I don't think that's good for the baby. If anyone reading this has experience with being pregnant, feel free to correct me.
Ms. Bustier points out that Sabrina put her name on both hers and Chloe's. Ms. Bustier naturally wants to know what the hell is going on.
Ms. Bustier: How long has this been going on?
Chloe: Oh, since we learned to write-- I mean, since Sabrina did.
Yep, after almost five seasons, the writers are now officially resorting to making dumb blonde jokes, the only kind of humor rivaled by fart jokes and racist jokes in terms of being overused and unfunny.
Ms. Bustier lets Sabrina off with a warning and decides to help Chloe make up for the lost work and salvage her academic career. For some reason, even though this is a reasonable response to discovering one of your students has been cheating for years, Marintte has a problem with this.
Marinette: Everybody knows that Chloe been cheating, taking advantage of Sabrina and not making any efforts compared to the others... for years! And the only consequence is that she's going to get help?! Of course, we need to support students who have problems, but not when they're the problem!
If you had a problem with Chloe mistreating Sabrina, THEN WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU TELL MS. BUSTIER YOURSELF? Even Lila points out that Marinette should have pointed this out to the teachers as class representative (I'm not sure if that's a thing in French schools, but let's assume it is for this episode's sake), but Marinette herself says she chose not to.
Marinette: Why would I have? She doesn't have difficulties! Only privileges! And if you need proof to see how the teachers will let her get away with anything!
What was it Alya said in “Origins”? Something about evil triumphing if good people do nothing? Eh, I'll think about it later.
Also, who's to say this isn't a punishment? Chloe is still going to have to make up her work, she'll need more attention from the faculty as a result, summer school is most likely on the table now, and who's to say her dad won't have problems with this? Yeah, we know he's a spineless coward, but let's assume he'll actually act like a parent for once, for the sake of argument.
Despite outright saying that she neglected her duties as class representative, Marinette is shocked Lila takes the chance to suggest she replace her for the job. Later at lunch, like what's happened in every other Lila episode, Marinette tries to tell Alya that Lila is a liar, Alya doesn't believe her for a second, and nothing changes. Oh wait, I forgot to mention that this time, Adrien and Nino are there too! That makes it different!
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Seriously, why are we still doing this? It's almost the end of Season 5, and even though Alya is one of Marinette's trusted confidants, the show still needs to have this drama with her not believing her. It honestly feels like a lot of the Lila episodes this season were originally written before Season 4 aired, but something changed, so they just threw them here when it makes no sense for Alya to still doubt Marinette after all this time. It's also why they randomly threw this line in to remind us that Alya knows.
Alya: You know, even Ladybug accepts help from Scarabella every once in a while.
Yeah, mind telling me what happened the last time Alya transformed into Scarabella?
OH RIGHT.
It's during this little conversation where we get the first hint of the episode's moral, and believe me, I'll get to that. Alya tries to reason with Marinette that maybe it's possible for Lila to help Chloe change for the better, which Marinette vehemently refuses to believe. We're clearly supposed to see Alya as being too naive and is oblivious to Lila's true nature, but neither of them know just how bad she really is. We, the audience, know that Lila has worked with Gabriel and Monarch willingly in the past (Heroes' Day, Chameleon, Miraculer, Illusion, Adoration) and that she's living under several fake identities. Yeah, we know Lila hates Marinette and tried to get her expelled in “Ladybug”, but nobody else knows just how bad she is. It doesn't help that Marinette's reasons for Lila only amount to “She's a liar!”, and not “She tried to get me expelled!”, intentionally making her come across as petty so it's easier for Alya to doubt her.
Another thing that makes the whole “Alya thinks Lila can help Chloe change” deal is that we already know Marinette has done nothing to really stop her behavior as class representative or as Ladybug, so it's hard to really act like Marinette contributes a lot to the job, especially when, once again, she willingly admitted to not even trying to reach out to the other teachers about Chloe's grades or how she's using Sabrina to get by in class. Even though Alya doesn't know about Lila's true nature, she's not wrong when it comes to believing someone else could bring something new to the position of class representative.
And this only gets worse, as we see Lila's latest plan to win over the class.
Lila: My dear classmates, I am convinced that even the worst person can change if you reach out to them. And to prove it to you, Chloe, will you be my deputy?
(The whole class gasps in shock)
Chloe: (sighs and walks to the front, putting on a fake smile)
Nino: Wow, is Chloe actually going to be a mere deputy?
Alya: That is so not Chloe!
Rose: Does this mean it's already working?
Mylene: Can Lila actually get her to change?
Marinette: (slams her fists on her table) This is so crazy! It's all lies!
Lila: Poor Marinette... couldn't succeed because she was too busy with her love life, as well as being reminded of her disdain for Chloe. But you know me. You know all about my humanitarian work. I'm used to going into conflict zones. I can do this. There are two weeks left. What do you have to lose? Help me, help Chloe change. Vote for me!
OH, YOU NO GOOD MOTHERFU---
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Sorry, sorry. Had a little... episode there. Where were we?
Okay, first off, wow. Are you trying to seriously piss off your fanbase? The whole argument of being able to appeal to the humanity in the worst person is one of the biggest arguments people in favor of Chloe redemption make, so you know damn well this scene was targeted towards them. What was the original draft for this? A still image of Thomas Astruc flipping off the audience?
Second, once again, Lila isn't wrong. As far as we know, Marinette did nothing to really help or stop Chloe over the school year other than foiling the occasional scheme. While we know it's a lie, can you really blame the rest of the class for believing Lila will actually make things better for them by finding a way to stop Chloe from bullying them? It doesn't help that the case Marinette makes for her class representative campaign is that she's giving up on helping Chloe, saying she sucks, and that she's going to help the rest of the class instead. Because we all know showing blatant bias against one of your classmates is a surefire way to win the favor of your peers, right?
As for the speech itself? Well...
Marinette: My dear friends, of course, you should always do everything in your power to help people. And we all hoped that Chloe would become a better person. Ladybug reached out to her. Ms. Bustier reached out to her. So did Adrien and so did I. You all reached out to her. This proves how big your hearts are. And yet, Chloe remained the same. Why? Because as far as she's concerned, having a big heart is a weakness to be exploited. Chloe already believes she's better than all of us. So... don't be fooled. I, for one, am done wasting my energy in vain. As class representative, I'd much rather help all of you because you deserve it a thousand times more.
So here's the main moral of the episode, kids: If you ever decide to be the bigger person and show kindness to someone who is mean to you, it's going to bite you in the ass sooner or later, so never try helping other people change. I just... what the fuck, Astruc?
Yeah, the show tries to point out that being kind to others is still important, but the context of the episode itself doesn't show any examples. You could have used Kim as an example of someone who has changed his ways, but “Derision” retconned him into not being a bully, and Felix isn't even in this episode, so he can't be used as an example. The episode never really provides an argument showing the difference between people who can change their ways and people who choose not to, which is why the lesson doesn't work. How exactly is a child watching this supposed to tell when they're being taken advantage of for their kindness? For a show with an opening that has the lyrics, “The power of love always so strong”, this episode really isn't doing a lot to encourage its audience to show compassion to others.
And we're not done yet. Lila makes up a sob story relating to getting fired, and tearfully says there's no hope for Chloe. Once again, the writers think by having a villain say stuff certain fans believe in, it's meant to automatically invalidate the argument. What are you going to have Lila say next? “Felix should face consequences for his actions”? “Gabriel is far worse than Chloe will ever be”? “Somehow, Chloe is worse than either of her terrible parents”? I'm all ears here.
The entire story was a gambit by Lila so she'd have a cover story, as she plans to attract an Akuma with her sheer hatred for Marinette. Like I said earlier, Monarch assumes that since Lila hates Marinette at the moment, it's impossible for her to harbor any negative feelings towards his civilian identity, choosing to akumatize her into Hoaxer.
Ignoring the fact that the name sounds like it belongs to an antidepressant, Hoaxer is an okay recolor of Volpina. There's not much else to say visually. Her powers involve brainwashing anyone who hears her lies through the Alliance rings... even though she was already able to manipulate others through lying, so this seems like a redundant power to give her. Sure, she can also teleport through the Alliance rings, but that's just something Lady Wifi could already do. Monarch also gives her the Fox Miraculous' Mirage to use so she can create fake footage to back up her lies... even though she already has the power to make everyone believe her lies. Yeah, this upgrade is kind of pointless, isn't it?
Hoaxer's first lie is to say that Marinette is really Monarch. With the exception of Adrien, Ivan, and Mylene (who don't wear Alliance rings), the entire class is brainwashed into hunting Marinette, believing they'll save Paris if they stop her. After Adrien points out how it wouldn't make sense for Marinette to be Monarch if she wants Lila to expose her secrets, he ducks out to transform into Cat Noir, soon meeting up with Ladybug.
Ladybug and Cat Noir steal an Alliance ring from Officer Roger to learn how this power works, only to learn the brainwashing is only effective as long as the victim is wearing an Alliance ring. Hoaxer senses that one of her victims lost their ring, so she turns the rest of Paris against the two heroes by saying that they're from the planet Saturn and fart bubbles that destroy the ozone layer. Believe me, I wish I was able to come up with a line that stupid.
Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, and gets a sewing machine. She goes back to her house, only to be ambushed by Alya. Ladybug takes off the ring and detransforms, lending the Ladybug Miraculous to Alya so she can transform into Scarabella as part of her plan. Because even though Alya has already been exposed three times in the past two seasons, the animators paid for the Scarabella model, and goddamn it, they're going to get their money's worth out of it. While Cat Noir fends off some brainwashed civilians, Hoaxer uses her powers on Nathalie to get her to send all of Gabriel's private secrets to her. How Monarch doesn't sense this is anyone's guess. Marinette pretends to appeal to Lila's conscience as part of a plan involving her, Scarabella, and Cat Noir, but Lila then rejects the Akuma with ease.
The Akuma somehow de-evilizes itself, Scarabella makes her only contribution to the fight by using Miraculous Scarabella to fix the damage, Monarch still doesn't know Lila now has intel on his civilian identity when he should have a telepathic link with her, and instead blames Marinette for all of his problems.
Back at school, Adrien apologizes to Marinette for not telling her to act against Lila, something that should be huge. It's just that both of them make it about how bad he feels, not about Marinette.
Adrien: I'm sorry, Marinette. I was wrong. I shouldn't have told you to act against Lila. If you give the slightest opportunity to people like her, they'll grasp at it and cause disasters in no time. And now, you're the one who looks like a bad person.
Marinette: You thought you were doing the right thing. Just like with Chloe. That's another reason why I love you, Adrien. You always want to see the good in other people. But sometimes, the good we think we see in some people is just a reflection of our own, and we end up being fooled by our own kindness. But we'll find a way to expose Lila eventually.
Nevermind the fact that Lila's lies haven't done anything to negatively affect Adrien at school, only Marinette, so his little pity doesn't feel earned. There's a difference between feeling bad about something and making it all about you. Also, once again, the episode's moral still comes across less like “mean people can take advantage of your kindness” and more like “never trust anyone, as your attempts to show kindness can backfire horribly on you”.
Lila is elected class representative, and Alya still believes her over Marinette. How does Marinette respond?
Marinette: I decided to let her have her way so I can finally prove to you all who she really is.
Spoiler alert, next episode, someone other than Marinette does the heavy lifting to expose Lila, and I doubt it was ever part of Marinette's plan.
The episode ends with Lila learning all of Gabriel's secrets, which would have been a much better opportunity for her to learn he's Monarch instead of learning about it off-screen as far back as “Emotion”.
THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS... MARINETTE
Once again, Gabriel was very close to earning the Biggest Idiot Award for the third time for ditching Lila for no reason and later giving her the tools needed to learn his deepest and darkest secrets, but Marinette edged him out here. Not only did Marinette outright admit to neglecting her responsibilities as class representative, blamed Ms. Bustier for not doing anything about Chloe when she hasn't done anything to stop her either, and made a very poor argument for her reelection campaign by saying that being nice is bad. But hey, maybe her genius plan next episode will make up for it.
“Confrontation” starts off with Adrien struggling to fill out an orientation form for what kind of school he wants to go to next year and what he'll study. I'm not really an expert in French schools, but I'll assume this is how things are done there. Either way, Adrien isn't willing to fill out the form because as we saw in “Pretension”, Gabriel is planning on sending him to a private school in London next year. Why Adrien wasn't excused from this assignment is beyond me.
Adrien: If Marinette finds out that my father's decided to send me to a private school in London next year, it will break her heart and mine, too.
Again, it's really funny how a huge portion of his screentime in Season 4 involved being angry at Ladybug for keeping secrets from him, yet now, Adrien sees nothing wrong with keeping secrets from Marinette, even when it's inevitable that she'll find out. Then again, Plagg's response isn't any better.
Plagg: I know how I would feel if I had to be separated from you, Adrien, and there is nothing funny about that at all.
Then why did you force Adrien to give up his Miraculous in “The Kwamis' Choice”?! I'm pretty sure that was all your idea, as was what happened afterwards with Monarch almost winning.
As Marinette worries about the career stuff, but through some flashbacks showing just how selfish and one-dimensional Chloe and Lila are, she's not exactly confident they have her best interests in mind. Also, remember how Marinette said she supposedly let Lila win at the end of the last episode in order to make progress on finding a way to stop her?
Marinette: I feel like I'm betraying our friends by entrusting their forms to such awful girls.
As we'll later learn, while she does come up with a plan to expose Lila, it was after this scene that it happened, so this doesn't really make it look like Marinette has any ideas to stop Lila after she won at the end of the last episode. After the rest of the class fills out their forms, Lila destroys them all so Sabrina can forge their handwriting. Of course, not before we get another “funny” scene where Chloe struggles to understand their own plan.
Lila: After you destroy the forms, you'll fill out new ones using your talent for forging student's handwriting. I'll tell you what to write.
Chloe: Not so fast! You're using too many words to explain your plan!
GET IT? DO YOU GET IT?! SHE'S RICH AND BLONDE, SO THAT MEANS SHE'S STUPID! WHY AREN'T YOU LAUGHING AT THIS COMEDY GOLD?!
Meanwhile, Nino calls for another meeting of the totally useful and not at all irrelevant Resistance, citing an issue. Because they're all planning to go to different schools next year, they're not sure how they can help Ladybug and Cat Noir... other than, oh, I don't know, meeting outside of school? It doesn't matter, because everyone unanimously volunteers to go to the same high school next year. Well, everyone except Nathaniel, but that's not important.
After Marinette gets a call from someone, Mylene suggests that the class go on strike against being forced to decide their careers so early in life. This would have made a lot more sense if you chose to do this before submitting your forms, but hey, whatever floats your boat. Adrien finally figures out what he wants to do, so he hands his form over to Lila. What did he write down?
Lila: (reading the letter) “I've been thinking a lot, and still not know what I would like to do later in life. The only thing I know for sure is that I love Marinette Dupain-Cheng. But I guess that doesn't really help you. I'm sorry. Adrien Agreste.”
Minimum wage at Wendy's it is. Good choice, Adrien.
Yeah, I think now's as good a time as any to talk about how flat Adrien's character has been this season. Even though Adrien has gotten more character focus thanks to not being hampered by loads of other side characters and temp heroes, he hasn't really had a lot of strong moments overall. Scenes that should feel like a big deal, like him accidentally Cataclysming Monarch or realizing he has feelings for Marinette are usually downplayed or brushed off so we can see how those events affect other characters. We don't get any scenes with Adrien feeling guild for possibly condemning a man to death because more focus is given to Gabriel dealing with his impending demise. We don't get any scenes that show how Adrien has come to see Marinette in a romantic light because more focus is given to Marinette struggling to deal with his sudden confession. And here's this scene. Rather than showing Adrien developing an interest in something he wants to do for a career, a huge sign of his growing independence, what do we get? Adrien saying he loves Marinette and admitting he has no goddamn idea what he wants to do with his life. Such a defining moment for one of the two main characters in the show. I'm just saying, if the last season made a big deal about Adrien wanting to be treated more importantly, why is he still getting shafted by the narrative?
And for the umpteenth time this season, because Chloe is the one saying that Adrien's form is “pathetic”, we're supposed to not agree with her, even though this is supposed to be a serious form that your teachers will see. Just what is this show's obsession with using strawmen to try and invalidate criticism? I've seen more nuanced takes from political cartoons.
Lila and Chloe present the forged forms to the teachers, assigning all kinds of inaccurate assignments for careers that the students don't want. Lila manages to get one student in particular held back, Marin—Juleka. Yeah, Juleka, Lila's most hated enemy is being forced to repeat a year. Why didn't Lila try to keep Marinette held back?
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To be fair, Lila's plan is to slander Marinette specifically, but screwing over the entire class feels like a bit of a reach. I don't even know if part of Lila's plan was to attract an Akuma or not. Speaking of, Monarch senses Juleka's negative emotions and sends a Megakuma her way. Because it's a day that ends with a “Y”, the Magical Charm does nothing, so for the sixth time in the series (not counting her brief appearance in “Ladybug”), Juleka is akumatized into Reflekta. I swear, at this point you could make a drinking game for every time an old character model is reused this season.
Reflekta's design is pretty alright. I like the idea of the shy and quiet Juleka getting a brightly colored form that's impossible to ignore, and her power to make everyone else look like her fits her character. Unlike other returning Akumas this season, Reflekta gets a noticeable upgrade to her powers, as now she can essentially create a hive mind with all of her victims on top of getting the Tiger Miraculous' Clout to do some extra damage. Wow, it's almost like the Miraculous powers should actually serve as upgrades to established powers instead of being the only thing that gives the Akuma their powers.
Reflekta goes to town assimilating more victims, Marinette does nothing to get the still pregnant Ms. Bustier to safety so she can dart off and transform into Ladybug. By the time Ladybug and Cat Noir meet up, the city is crawling with Reflektas.
Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, getting a plastic tape dispenser. Using Cat Noir's staff and the tape, the two put up a fake brick wall poster in an alleyway. The two heroes split up and draw a Reflekta's attention respectively, pretending to be helpless once they reach a “dead end” at the fake brick wall. When the two Reflektas try to use Clout, Ladybug and Cat Noir duck out of the way, letting the two attacks collide.
Ladybug de-evilizes the Megakuma, uses Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage, and gives Juleka yet another useless Magical Charm.
And while you'd think this is where the episode ends, unfortunately, we're only halfway done. Id anything, this entire fight was pointless, and it's going to lead to a lot of problems with the pacing later on.
Back at school, Lila takes the opportunity to pin the blame on Marinette, though when Marinette points out how good Sabrina is at forging handwriting, Sabrina admits to helping them out. While the blame is still on Marinette, Chloe and Lila follow Sabrina when she runs out of the classroom. In the bathroom, Sabrina is still upset about what she had to do, and when Chloe and Lila confront her and try to keep her in line, only for Sabrina to reveal it was a trap for Chloe and Lila to confess their plan in front of the rest of the class, and one that had been set up a few days ago by Sabrina and Marinette.
So after an episode that went out of its way to show how apologetically irredeemable Chloe and Lila are, Sabrina is the one to ultimately turn a new leaf and is the key player in stopping Chloe and Lila's tyranny. Let's go into all the reasons as to why this failed to be a triumphant moment.
First off, why is Sabrina the key player who helps finally expose Lila? Why not Adrien, or Alya, or anyone else in Marinette's class? Rather than work together with her friends to show she wasn't lying, Marinette only works with Sabrina, and they act like they're the close friends working together. What, you thought Adrien or maybe Alya would help Marinette expose Lila like the end of the last episode hinted at? HA! Of course not.
Second, Sabrina's redemption is forced as hell. I'm not saying Sabrina turning a new leaf is entirely impossible, but the show just expects us to forget all the times she's gone along with Chloe's bullying antics (Origins, Mr. Pigeon, Lady Wifi, Dark Cupid, Horrificator, Darkblade, Reflekta, Zombizou, Stormy Weather 2, Lies, Sole Crusher, Gabriel Agreste, Derision, Adoration), and even in this episode, she still helped forge the new forms for Chloe and Lila. Remember how “Derision” said Chloe's actions couldn't be excused by how poorly she was treated by her mother? Funny how Sabrina's actions can be excused by how poorly she was treated by Chloe. The redemption honestly could have worked if it was Marinette who reached out to Sabrina and saw the good in her, teaching the lesson that while some people refuse to change, that doesn't mean other people can't change either. But instead, Sabrina's just a good guy because the plot said so, a deus ex Sabrina if you will.
Third, this was Marinette's plan to stop Lila? Like I said, while the previous episode made it seem like Marinette had an idea on how to expose Lila, this episode showed that Marinette had absolutely no plans prior Sabrina's call, and she handed over the sheets to Chloe and Lila earlier. What was Marinette even going to do if Sabrina didn't call? This only makes Sabrina's redemption feel even more forced, because that was what led to Chloe and Lila being exposed.
And finally, we don't even get a lot of resolution with Marinette's classmates believing Lila over her once she's exposed.
Yes, there was a deleted scene where Alya and the others apologize to Marinette instead of just Ms. Bustier which was supposedly cut for time constraints, but why would you leave that out when Marinette's friends believing Lila over her has always been a sore spot among viewers? If only there was another scene that could have been cut out of the episode that added nothing to the plot over an important character moment showing how guilty Marinette's friends feel.
Chloe and Lila are expelled by Mr. Damocles, but then he gets a call from Andre ordering him to keep them in and do nothing to change the forged forms. Normally, this would be something to make Andre out to be a bad guy, but like Sabrina, because he's being belittled and ordered around by someone else (in this case, Audrey), we're meant to sympathize with him. Trust me, it gets even worse next episode.
Mr. Damocles is upset enough to attract another Megakuma from Monarch. You would think Marinette would transform into Ladybug and save him,but the episode does something different. Somehow, because of the other students telling him to believe in himself, all of their Magical Charms resonate with Mr. Damocles' Magical Charm. And then, his Magical Charm transforms into a shield which de-evilizes the Akuma as soon as it touches it?
I'm sorry, WHAT!?
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Yeah... that just happened. I'm happy the Magical Charm actually did something for once, but I don't get why this was the climax of the episode. Why did this episode spend more time focusing on Juleka, Sabrina, and Mr. Damocles instead of Marinette's final battle of wits with Lila? Forget it, it's almost over anyway.
Mr. Damocles sends in the correct forms for the students before he resigns as principal, and we then cut to Ms. Bustier realizing that Chloe is pure evil and needs to face consequences for her actions. What does Chloe say that causes her to come to this revelation?
Ms. Bustier: Where's Lila?
Chloe: How should I know? I'm not the betrayer's mother.
Yep. A somewhat rude answer to a question Chloe doesn't even know the answer to is the last straw for Ms. Bustier. Maybe it's the hormones? Ms. Bustier decides to give extra attention to Chloe going forward, and somehow, that's different from Ms. Bustier wanting to help Chloe make up her schoolwork at the beginning of the last episode. But what happened to Lila, you may ask?
Oh my God, she's cosplaying as T'pol from Star Trek: Enterprise! The fiend!
Yep, Lila abandoned her old school and moved onto one of her other lives, now calling herself Cerise. Okay, a few questions.
First, was she wearing makeup as Lila or something? I'm not sure if it's the lighting in this one scene, but I swear, her skin looks lighter than Cerise here.
Second, how is Lila going to blend in under her new identity when for a while, she was the face of the Gabriel brand? What, is she going to claim that “Lila” is her twin sister or something?
Third, if Lila's trying to blend in as Cerise, why did she throw her old wig in the trash, in broad daylight?
Fourth, why wasn't this scene the one used to establish Lila has multiple lives? It actually feels plot-relevant, unlike the revelation of her having three different mothers last episode.
Finally, we're really going to brush over Lila facing any setback to her vague goals? She got expelled, and we don't even get to see her face consequences for her actions after all these years? What a load...
THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS...MARINETTE
Yep, Marinette got the award twice in the same two-parter, and this is her third one at that. Adrien was sort of close to winning it with his stupid application form and not doing anything to stop Lila himself, and even though Marinette's plan to expose Lila worked, I still had to give it to her. She willingly gave her and her friends application forms to Chloe and Lila without any plans in case they tried something bad, had absolutely no plan to stop Lila in general until Sabrina came alone, and didn't think to simply de-evilize a Megakuma targeting her principal when Lila was able to sneak out with no problem.
Anyway, these episodes SUCK. I know it might not seem as noticeable compared to my reviews last season, as I've been trying to not get too angry, but I still couldn't stand these episodes.
As always, Lila's lies are incredibly stupid and don't work under the suspension of disbelief, especially with what we learn about her here. What I don't get is that we still don't know why Lila does what she does. I still don't know why she is so obsessed with getting the better of Marinette and Gabriel outside of being petty, and given what happens by the end of the season, it makes her unclear motivation even less excusable. In a pair of episodes meant to give more focus to Lila as she tries to ruin Marinette's reputation right before the school year ends, we really needed more depth for her character.
Marinette wasn't any better. What should have been a standout moment for her this season, she spent most of these two episodes complaining about Chloe and Lila when she did nothing to really stop them, and only made progress when Sabrina had a change of heart out of nowhere. Hell, even then, Chloe and Lila barely faced any setbacks for their actions. Marinette honestly felt very underutilized in what should have been an important set of episodes for the season.
Adrien didn't fare any better. He barely got to do anything and unlike Marinette, he wasn't even involved with the final plan, despite the ending of “Revelation” hinting that he and Marinette were going to work together to stop Lila. And then there's the form he filled out where he pretty much confirmed that he has no goals in life and that the writers just have no idea what the hell they want to do with him now that he's Marinette's boyfriend.
But let's talk about what I think really killed these two episodes, specifically “Confrontation”: The unnecessary focus on side characters. I can understand why Ms. Bustier needed more focus in these episodes, considering it was focused on the school environment, but I can't give that kind of lenience to “Confrontation”. That episode decided rather than focusing on Marinette finally outsmarting Lila, we needed more focus on Sabrina, Juleka, and Mr. Damocles. Why did we need to give Sabrina a change of heart over Marinette's friends working together to help her expose Lila? Why did we need Juleka to be targeted by Lila and subsequently akumatized by Monarch in a gambit to slander Marinette when all Lila had to do was have it look like Marinette tampered with Chloe's form? Why did we need an extended sequence of Mr. Damocles fending off an Akuma with the help of his class when he had no real presence in this arc, and if anything, took Chloe and Lila's side more often than not (Ladybug, Derision)? I don't get why the writers chose the tail end of the season to actually develop some of its side characters at the expense of major players like Marinette, Adrien, and Lila.
Look, these episodes were just awful, okay? And somehow, things manage to get worse as we get closer and closer to the end of the season.
#immaturity of thomas astruc#iota#miraculous ladybug#miraculous ladybug salt#marinette dupain cheng#ladybug#adrien agreste#cat noir#chat noir#alya cesaire#scarabella#gabriel agreste#hawkmoth#hawk moth#monarch#lila rossi#chloe bourgeois#juleka couffaine#reflekta#sabrina raincomprix#nino lahiffe#caline bustier#mr damocles#andre bourgeois#audrey bourgeois#plagg#Youtube
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Unexpected ch.2, Spencer Reid
Word count: 4.4k~
Read the first part here!
It isn't that hard to lie and say you need an emergency transfer to where your parents live. Thankfully, I'm able to do such a thing and move into a house similar to the last one I had when I lived in Las Vegas. I'm even more thankful to gain a good position at the FBI agency there, but I'm not all too thrilled about having to leave my best friends at Quantico. I knew them for only a short year, but it felt like I knew them forever.
Four months of the same work I once did months before pass, but this time, I've had to do it a bit differently. Instead of being able to travel to other agencies and help review specific cases for them to solve, I'm forced to stay at my agency and continue working there. It turns out the FBI doesn't exactly like their pregnant workers traveling, no matter how far along they are.
In my second month of working, I found out I was pregnant through a sudden spell of vomiting and fever. When one of my co-workers took me to the doctor, they did a blood test, and like any other unsuspecting parent, the news hit me in the face. One night of passion, sadness, and hurt lead to that moment where I was given the two exciting words that I had least expected.
"You're pregnant!"
When I was first given the news, I was excited, and I still am. I've always wanted kids, but I've always wanted to have kids that had a father present in their lives (preferably, in this case, Spencer). Going by the fact that Spencer most likely hates me for my sudden absence from work and leaving in the middle of the night, I can presume he doesn't want anything to do with our baby. Who would? But at the same time, can you blame me for leaving?
I felt alone in a relationship with a guy who acted like he barely knew me when we had known each other for our entire lives. I felt like I knew Spencer like no one else, and vice versa. I was wrong about something I would have bet my life on, and it was absolutely mortifying.
I still love Spencer, and I will never stop loving him. I think out of everything, that's the most painful thing. The high probability that he hates me now comes in second, which is why I haven't told him about my pregnancy. That, and I presume he never wanted kids - so, how can I push that onto him and make him not only hate me but a child he helped create? Why would my child ever deserve that?
Without fail, Penelope has tried to call me once every week ever since I left, and I just can't answer her calls. As stated once before, me leaving out of nowhere is embarrassing. I know that the gang is concerned about me leaving without saying anything, but how can I face them without lying? I can't just tell them I left because I knew Spencer didn't love me like I thought - that would've just added insult to injury.
However, the call Penelope sent this week was followed by two consecutive text messages.
Answer me right now or I will hack into any information about you there is available!
I mean it!
Because I knew she really did mean it, I answered her next call without hesitation.
"Hi, Penelope," I answered her, my voice drained of all emotion. Sitting down on my couch with my phone held against my ear, I placed my free hand over my small baby bump and lightly rub it without even thinking about it. I love my ever-growing child with all of my heart, and I haven't even met the baby boy yet.
"Don't 'hey, Penelope' me!" She almost shouts into my ear, causing me to close my eyes with guilt. "You haven't called, texted, emailed, nothing! You have sent me absolutely nothing explaining why you left! Why did you leave?!"
Her question makes me want to vomit, and I know I can't lie to her. "Spencer and I slept together the night before I left," I explain blatantly, hearing an immediate response only seconds later.
"So what?! Was the sex lousy? Did he not do it right?" Her questions roll off her tongue without pausing. "You have to teach the boy! He hasn't had that much experience in the past years, so you have to give him pointers and-"
"Pen, he couldn't get Maeve off his mind," I cut her off, tears rolling down my cheeks. As much as I'd love to laugh at Penelope's usual actions, I can't when I'm thinking about that night. "H-he mentioned her right after we were done, and I realized I would never be enough for him. I-I just couldn't face him after that, Pen; I just couldn't."
Unlike last time, Penelope halts her words before letting out a single-word response. "Oh," She mutters, every ounce of anger or frustration gone from her voice. She knew how I felt about Spencer and how I had always felt about him, even when we were younger.
A few more seconds pass before she speaks up again, her voice now a bit quieter. "But why couldn't you call me back or anything? Why'd you have to ignore me?"
Penelope's softly spoken words break my heart, and with the already falling tears, I can't hold back the new ones that arise. Biting my lip to prevent myself from sobbing out-loud, I take my hand away from my belly and raise it to cover my mouth. I never wanted to hurt anyone - I truly didn't - so, it hurts to hear that I ended up doing so anyway.
"Penelope, I'm pregnant," I shakily confess, shaking my head as I continually cry. "And I couldn't tell you, or Spencer, or anyone, because Spencer never wanted any kids! He never wanted me, Pen!"
Every word that leaves my lips is followed by my hands waving around frantically as I close my eyes with a shake of my head. It physically hurts to admit all of this to Penelope. Not only does it hurt, but it's embarrassing. I'm by myself with no one around me, the only guy I've ever loved doesn't want me, and I'm pregnant and scared to death. I have never felt so alone in my life, and it sucks.
"...Does he know?" Penelope asks, making me instantly sober up.
"NO!" I nearly shout, my eyes shooting open. "No, Pen, you cannot tell him! Whatever, you do, do. not. tell. him!"
"But, he deserves to know, (Y/n)!" Penelope argues, making me cry even more. She just said the same thing I've been debating with myself over the past two months, and to hear her say it makes me want to just fall asleep and forget about my problems. She's right, and I know it.
"He. doesn't. want. kids. Pen!" I repeat myself, placing my hand to my forehead. "And he doesn't want me either!"
"(Y/n), he does! He does want you!" Penelope tells me, making me shake my head. "When you left, he didn't talk to anyone. He just... he shrank into himself and never came back out! When we saw that you had transferred to the Las Vegas Unit, Spencer submitted transfer papers! Just to be with you!" Her words shoot right through me, making me pause in my actions as my eyes go wide. "He got denied, and when you didn't respond to my calls or his calls, he thought... he thought you didn't love him."
"Oh, God," I mutter, shaking my head. "I never stopped loving him, Pen - how could I? H-how could he think that?" I ask, not expecting an answer back from Penelope. "I tried to do everything I could to make him feel loved, to let him know I loved him and only him!"
Leaning my head back against the couch, I sink further into the plush material with a sigh. "When in reality, I was the one who never got anything like that back," I explain, my voice slow and calm now that I've let out the things I've been holding back on saying for months now. "I was the one who felt like I was never good enough no matter what I did or how hard I'd try... I would always be second-best - and that was that."
"If only you know how wrong you are, (Y/n)," Penelope tells me, sounding like she's crying too. "I-I know you won't believe me, but none of what you are saying is true. Absolutely none of it," She adds, "Spencer loves you with every ounce of his being, and you are not second-best to him."
"Pen..." I drag on, sighing.
"I know you don't believe me, but you have to," She states, before letting out a sigh. "I miss you, girl-genius, and I want to come and see you," Penelope confesses, making me lightly smile. "I miss our fashion conversations and shopping trips, and I've been sad the entire time you've been gone!"
Once all of her words process through my mind, I smile fully. Despite the shit that I've done, she's still the same fun-loving, girly-girl Penelope that I was close to in Quantico, and somehow, we're still close.
"I miss you too, Pen," I tell her, placing my hand back on top of my risen belly. In response, two little feet kick against my hand, making me smile. "I... I'm off for the next couple weeks if you want to come and see me," I tell her, "I think I'd like it if my baby boy met his aunty."
As soon as the words leave my lips, Penelope gasps. "You're having a boy?" She asks gently, making me giggle. I guess I didn't include that when I first told her. "That's it - I'll be coming in on Friday!"
I grin. "Don't rent a hotel room!" I tell her, standing from the couch to walk into the extra room in my house. I didn't think I'd be having anybody stay over for a while, so I didn't put any sheets or pillows on the guest bedroom bed. "I have a guest room here at my place, so don't waste any money on a room."
"Okay, okay!" She cheers, making me smile even more. "I'll get a flight and be over there in no time. I love you, and I'll see you then!"
With that, I tell her I love her back and we hang up. With my phone now in my hand rather than pressed against my ear, I move to sit on the mattress and sigh. I wasn't expecting Penelope to say everything she did, nor did I expect her to be so forgiving of me. Although, it is Penelope we're talking about here, and I don't think there's ever been a moment in her life where she wasn't understanding. I told her my problems, and in spite of loving Spencer like a brother, she listened to me and understood where I was coming from.
"I'm sorry you had to hear what your mummy told Aunt Pen," I apologize to my bump, my hand still resting against it. "Your daddy really is a great guy with a big heart, but mummy wasn't meant for him," Despite my heart cracking as I mutter these words, I smile and circle my hand around my bump. "However, mummy knows that you and I are meant to be, and no matter what, you will always be my little boy."
With Penelope calling me on Wednesday night, I didn't have to wait long for her arrival. I even went out and bought some lilac sheets for the bed so she could be on new ones, and I also got a pair of peacock themed earrings for her while I was out. I have to admit I'm a bit excited to see what she has to say about the nursery I've put together myself. I painted the walls with pale blue paint and then stenciled ducks throughout the middle of the wall. The furniture is all made out of a Walnut wood shade, and the curtains match the walls with a yellow ribbon holding them together.
On Friday night, I put everything together for Penelope's arrival and smile to myself. A part of me wants to believe it's just her that's coming, but another part of me is telling me that she's bringing Spencer with her. I'm partially scared, but at the same time, I'm not. What happens, happens... and there's nothing I can do about it.
Hearing a knock at the door, I close the kitchen drawer I'm currently digging into and move onto the next one. "Come in!" I shout, digging through the mess of kitchen utensils to find the pair of earrings I bought for Penelope. What interrupts me is two little feet kicking me as I do so, making me stop and place a hand to my belly. "Not now, little one!" I whisper with a smile, feeling my baby boy halt in his kicking. I can only hope he'll be willing to listen to me like this when he gets older.
Just as I find the black gift bag with the peacock themed jewelry in it, I hear my apartment door open and close. It isn't a peppy voice that I hear a few seconds later, and instead, a voice that I've wanted to hear for what feels like such a long time. Now that I hear him speak, I realize my mother's intuition has already kicked in.
"You know," the deep, yet boyish voice begins, making me stop moving. "Standing for long lengths of time can slow down the growth of a fetus, and cause premature birth as well as prolonged pain in the lower back."
A few moments pass before I slowly place the jewelry on my kitchen counter and turn around to see Spencer standing a few feet away from me, his hands wrestling with each other. Despite my mind telling me not to, my body takes charge, and I look into Spencer's eyes to see him gazing at me with glossed-over eyes. Once he sees my bump, his mouth lightly drops. "You..." He begins, holding a hand out. "You look amazing."
Leaning back against the counter behind me, I look away and harshly swallow, my throat feeling like it's being squeezed closed. "Spence..." I say the name I've always called him, but nothing follows it. I don't know what to say to Spencer at this moment, and going by the short silence that follows, he doesn't either.
"Why..." he starts, making me look back at him. This time, his tears are falling down his face freely. "Why didn't you tell me?" He finally asks, gently shaking his head. He truly doesn't realize, and even if I tell him, I don't think he'd understand.
"I know why you left," He explains, walking toward me with unsure steps. "And I-I realize that it was so stupid to talk about Maeve after we... we-we," Spencer stutters, making me shake my head as I bite my lip. "I never meant to send you away, (Y/n); I never wanted you to leave," He confesses, a tear trailing down his cheek. "That was the last thing I wanted you to do."
Once again, in spite of every signal my mind is sending me, I watch myself step forward and wipe Spencer's fallen tears away, his head leaning into my touch as I do so. With tears gathering in my eyes, I watch with bleary vision as Spencer lets out a shaky sigh before looking down at my bump and gently smiling. "It-It's mine," He states the obvious, making me smile as the tears finally fall.
Leaving my hand against the side of his face, I take his hand into my free hand and place it against my stomach, his warm fingers pressing against my belly with a softness I've never felt from him. "He is yours," I explain, emphasizing the sex to him. Instantly, he picks up on it and lets out a short noise of happiness, making me want to hug him to death, but I don't think I can handle that at this moment.
"Spencer, do you... do you want me? Have you... have you ever wanted me?" I ask him, his eyes instantly flickering up to meet mine.
"Every day of my life, yes," Spencer tells me, nodding his head up and down repeatedly. "My words to you about Maeve w-were not an attempt to tell you otherwise, I promise you," Watching as he shakes his head, I see him visibly struggle to swallow. "I just needed to get that out, and with you, I felt like I could tell you anything," He confesses, a few seconds passing before he shakes his head again. "And I felt that if I didn't let out my feelings, I wouldn't be able to move on, and then I wouldn't be able to give you all of me in my entirety because there is nothing I want more than that."
More tears sliding down his face, he leans down and lays his head against mine. Meanwhile, the tears haven't stopped falling from my eyes either, and even though I've felt hurt by Spencer for these past few months, I know he's telling me the truth. "I want you, (Y/n); you're all I've ever wanted," He tells me, crying even more as he shakes his head. "If you would have told me that I messed up that night by saying the stuff I did that bothered you, I would have apologized until the end of time for you. I would've done anything just to get you to stay."
At this moment, I feel guilty for not only what I've put myself through for these last months, but Spencer as well. I'm glad that he understands why I felt the way I did, but what I'm unhappy about is the fact that I was the one who wasn't understanding. For five seconds, if I had seen the difference in how he said his last words to me rather than what he was saying, we wouldn't be in this predicament. We wouldn't have been without each other, and we wouldn't have gone through so much by ourselves with no one to fall back on.
"If I wasn't pregnant with your baby," I start, my voice wary and slow. "Would you have still come back for me?" I ask, pulling my head away from his to look up at him.
In response, Spencer simply smiles and nods. "Even if you had left in the morning and told me goodbye, and you came here without our son growing inside you, I would have still fought for you with my life," He confesses, still smiling. "When I was young, I was stupid and I let you go without a fight," Spencer then shakes his head. "I don't want to do that again - I can't do that again."
Once again, I know that what Spencer's telling me is completely truthful and coming from his heart. For once, he isn't saying statistics or facts about what is going on around him, and instead, he's speaking up about himself and how he feels. He's not reading from a textbook or informative journal - it's all coming from him.
"I don't want you to do that again either, Spencer," I admit, welcoming his arm as he wraps them around my waist and slowly pulls me close. With my bump pressed against his practically non-existent stomach, I smile, feeling two little feet kick in response. My boy has never reacted like this when I've hugged people in the past - maybe he somehow knows who I'm hugging, and perhaps he's excited.
"I love you, (Y/n)," Spencer states, his other hand coming up to hold my cheek. Looking up at him, I see tears still flowing down his cheeks like before, although there are fewer this time around as his smile remains on his lips. "I love you so much, and I want you to see that so badly."
Spencer Reid - the man who avoids drama at all costs, rarely takes risks, isn't too great with social interaction, and who doesn't always show his emotions - is currently standing in my kitchen with his arms holding me close to him as he confesses his true feelings. At the same time, he's interacting with our son in ways he doesn't even know about, and for once, he's fighting for me by taking a six-hour flight to get to me and try to win me back. At this point, I never realized that it's something I've wished for with all my heart ever since I left.
"I do see it, Spence," I tell him, giving him a tearful smile. "I see it right now as we speak, and I see it looking back too," I add on, watching as his face never changes at my words. He probably doesn't believe me, or he doesn't want to because he's mad at himself for waiting for so long to do such a thing. "I see everything, Spencer, and I will always love you too," This time, my words do make a change occur, and I'm thankful to see it's a positive one. "Besides, I always have."
In response, his smile widens before he leans forward and plants his lips against mine. However, the kiss doesn't last long as Spencer soon pulls away and pushes his head into my neck. "Please, forgive me," He pleads, sounding broken like before. "Please, please, please," Spencer repeats the word over and over again until I speak up.
"Baby, I forgave you long ago," I tell him, only to earn a head shake in response.
"No, no, not just for this," Spencer murmurs, raising his head from my neck. Leaning above me, Spencer stares into my eyes while gently swaying us in our embrace. I don't think he knows he's doing it.
"Back when we still lived here in Las Vegas, I-I moved everything out of the apartment without telling you. I was in a rush to get moved into my dorm while moving my mom into Bennington that all I left was a note, a stupid note!"
Every word that leaves his lips afterward doesn't reach my ears. He left me a note? When I went into the empty apartment, there was absolutely nothing in there! If there was a note, then I surely would have seen it.
"Spencer," I cut him off from his rambling, and for once, he stops speaking. Turning my eyes up to his, I gently shake my head. "There was no note in the apartment. I-I went in, and every-single-thing was gone; it felt like you wanted me to feel forgotten, and it hurt."
Once I'm done speaking, Spencer leans down and places another kiss to my lips, apologies following afterward just like before. "I promise you, I left a note - I swear I did!" Spencer's words come out in a rush as if he were scared that I wouldn't believe him.
"It's okay, Spencer. I believe you," I assure him, nodding. "The owners of the apartment probably came by and cleaned up since there was absolutely nothing left - no furniture, pictures, curtains, nothing."
At that, Spencer shakes his head with squinted eyes. He then goes to say something, but quickly cuts himself off with a sigh. "No matter what, I love you - I loved you back then too," He confesses, his eyes flashing over to mine. "I thought for the longest time that you wanted nothing to do with me, hence why you never tried to see me."
If only he knows how far that is from the truth. For so long, I tried to find him. I searched everywhere online, but nothing ever came up except for old news articles about how smart of a kid he was. It wasn't until I joined the BAU that I realized why his online presence was so scarce - it was for his protection.
"I searched for you for a long time," I tell him, smiling at him as I reach up to cup his cheek. "But, I could never find anything on you. I never thought to look at our employee list though."
Laughing at my words, Spencer shakes his head at the irony before sighing once again. "I looked for you too, but I always got scared when I found you," He confesses, shaking his head. "I didn't think you'd want me meddling in your life."
Just like before, his words break my heart. There are too many damn things that have gone wrong in our relationship that could have been solved way before now. "Let's... let's not let another misunderstanding ruin our relationship again - please," I plead, wanting nothing more but to be close with Spencer without anything holding us back.
Liking the idea, Spencer smiles back and nods. "Let's," He agrees, leaning forward to plant his lips onto mine. As soon as he does, the baby boy in my belly begins kicking again, prompting me to place both of Spencer's hands on my stomach. Feeling his son kick, Spencer pulls away from the kiss to let out a mix of a surprised gasp/laugh, making me giggle with him. "I love you," He tells me, turning his smiling face back to me with happiness written all over it.
Smiling back, I lean farther into him with his hands still pressed against my swollen tummy, my head leaning against his chest. "I love you too," I respond, feeling as if the only things around me that matter are Spencer and our son.
Thanks to Penelope (who I doubt is even coming down here and is probably waiting for me to return to Quantico), I finally get to be with the person I feel to be my soulmate, once and for all.
This may not have been the way I wanted to start a family, but I can't say I'm ungrateful for us now. Finally, after so many years, things are cleared up and no longer blocking the possibility of Spencer and I loving each other. For once, we finally get to be with each other in peace and utter devotion - nothing else.
#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid#spencer reid imagines#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagines#criminal minds oneshot#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds#matthew gray gubler#matthew gray gubler x reader#matthew gray gubler imagines#matthew gray gubler imagine#mathew gray gubler
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Feline Antics
Kuroo x GN! reader
This was the first thing I've written specifically to post on tumblr, and was originally on my other 'fanfic only' blog, pinkipeachiikeen (one 'i' after pink) but I decided managing two blogs was too time consuming and decided to merge with my original account (pansexualproblemchild) and keep the name. TDLR: it's def not my best work and if it looks familar, no I didn't copy anyone's work but my own
This fic was inspired/dedicated to @taeyamayang and her little black cat momo and my little black aria (mimi)
WC: 717
Summary: Kuroo tries.... and fails to convince y/n that he is a dog person with his cat like antics
“So what did you get?”
“19/20, beat that, loverboy.” I tease, shaking my phone at him.
“Read it and weep, honeybunch.” He dangles his phone in front of my face. “Read it and weep.”
“What?” No way. I snatch his phone. “Lemme see.” The four numbers mock me.
20/20.
“I guess i’m just the better partner.” Kuroo gloats. “I could’ve told you thaAAT-” Kuroo ducks, almost falling off the couch, as i wack him with my stuffed animal, a comically large stuffed goose Kuroo gave me as ‘thinking of you’ gift since geese are small and cute. It Would have been sweet if he didn’t follow that with “needlessly loud and aggressive.”
I wacked him with it then too. Then named it Mr Honk.
“How embarrassing,” he teases. “After you begged me to take this little relationship test too.”
“I didn’t beg!” I whine, crossing my arms. “I don’t beg!”
He raises his eyebrow. Don’t do it. He smirks. “You sure did last-”
“OH MY GOD!” I cut him off before my face can heat up anymore as he cackles. I’m dating a man child. “Whatever.” I scoff as I scroll through all the questions and my eyes finally land upon the damn question that determined Kuroo was the better partner. Question 12. Does your partner prefer dogs or cats? A simple question. A no brainer. Cats, obviously. Except the red ‘x’ too it says otherwise.
“Aha! That’s why!” I exclaim.
“Hmm? You found out why i am the superior parter?” he teases as he settles down next to me, feeling safe now that my weapon of choice (Mr. Honk) was out of my hands. I roll my eyes playfully. “You wish.” I tossed him my phone. “You pressed the wrong answer, dummy.”His eyebrows furrow as he retorts; “No, i didn’t?”
“Yeah you did! You pressed ‘dogs’ instead of ‘cats’. Therefore, we tied!” I said smugly.
“Except, I did press the right answer. I’m more of a dog person.” I roll my eyes he explains
“Bullshit!”
“Wha-” he sputters. “How are you gonna tell me what animal I prefer?” he reasons. “Is this because I was the captain of Nekoma? With my suave graceful movements and agaile abilities?” He pridefully boasts, looking like the cat that got the canary.
“Yeah the same agileness that broke three different lamps. Two in the same day, as well.”
Kuroo scoffs, offended by the facts. “I’m tall, Y/n! My lanky limbs have to go somewhere!” He pouts, wiggling said lanky limbs for effect.
“Yeah, but they couldn’t have been lanky anyplace besides right next to my nightstand? Or my coffee table, or my-“
“Ok, Ok I get it!” He whines. “All of that only helps plead my case.” I state.
“You mean the one that I’m a cat.”
“Yes. Cats break shit left and right too.”
“Okay, left and right is a little excessive!”
“But not wrong. Let’s also talk about the fact how you hiss when I sprayed water on you.”
“Anyone would when you spray water on them!”
“People don’t hiss Tetsu! You full on hissed like a vampire in the sun!
“….So like Kenma.”
I pause for a moment. “A little bit, yeah I guess. He’s like a cat too, but that’s a whole different story. He’s like a old calico cat, just minding his business while you are a little scrappy black cat. Causing chaos and mischief.”
“I’m not scrappy, i’m resourceful and resilient!” He corrects.
I blink, once, then twice. “You’re scrappy”. I deadpan. “The scrappy little black cat antagonizing and teasing everyone always causing a ruckus and always needs attention and affection. No matter how much they deny it.”
“I don’t demand nor need your attention!” He huffs.
“Tetsu?”
“Yes, love?”
“You are literally laying on my right now.”
Kuroo looks down to realize that he is indeed laying across my lap and is silent for a moment, Before he snuggles closer into me.
“The fact that I’m laying on your lap means nothing.” He pulls up the blanket over his lap. “Now shh. I’m sleeping now.”
I smile and roll my eyes once more, something I find i’m doing more and more ever since my cat-like boyfriend (clumsily, and awkwardly) waltzed his way into my life. “See? Demanding.”
“Shh!”
Thanks for reading! Reblogs, likes and comments are always greatly appreciated! ❤️
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What is your Hogwarts house?
I don't think that's considered a question in good taste anymore lmao.
And, actually, I never liked it much even as a kid, because sorting discourse did not adhere to the framework shown in the text. It consistently drifted to rigorous application of the ruleset laid out by the hat in its little song, which was blatantly called out as a convenient simplification about one page after the formula was originally presented.
Like. The fact that each cohort is broken down into four roughly equal pods and lineage is clearly a major determining factor, as is personal preference, is made clear very early. This is a cultural institution, that shapes the characters who grow within it quite as much as it's assigned based on their innate traits, and within the framework of which people actively look for identity elements to define themselves by.
People in my high school would be sorting adult fictional characters and doing elaborate balancing of their True Natures as revealed by their various plot events and defining life choices and patterns of behavior in their own generally dramatic canons and I'd be like. Okay, what do you think they were like when they were eleven though.
What were their values at eleven? What parts of their potential to be Like That were developed enough to show up on a psychic scan by a sapient hat, at eleven? What backstories are we assuming they're coming into this from; this man is a duke from fantasy medieval europe are we going to analogize him to a posh normie family, or the magic snobs, or are we dimensional-teleporting his baby self into wizard school?
Look, assigning Hogwarts houses to grown-ass adults on the basis of their adult developed identities doesn't make sense, that is very clearly not how anything works, this is a child-sorting algorithm. You have to apply it to children or it's invalid.
...also I was a Ravenclaw. I knew this. Everyone who had ever met me knew this. Any and every online quiz I was convinced to take knew this. I was so boring. I could not even make a serious case for my being one of the people who'd argue my way into another category I was minorly qualified for, or get there on family values or something, because I didn't want to not be a dumb nerd and my family is also dumb nerds. I was such an easy sort it was no fun at all, I was a walking stereotype.
It was embarrassing, is what it was. I was a flat character with no depth, rip child me. It was like if you could fail astrology by adhering precisely to your horoscope.
(My younger sisters wanted to be Gryffindor but consistently tested Hufflepuff and vice versa respectively, and I do not at this time remember which was which. The tests that gave you percentile rankings did give them minors in the ones they wanted tho.)
Anyway looking back on this in reaction to your ask, I find myself reflecting that House affiliation actually worked very much like gender, in that the way it was assigned was treated in-story as being based on absolute inherent qualities that defined a whole person, but quite clearly per the text actually worked by finding a schema you had an acceptable percent overlap with at a young age, and then setting you up to be perceived and instructed through that filter for the rest of your life.
The affiliation had meaning! But it was mostly meaning derived from the affiliation, and its social weight.
The ability of characters to find the sometimes deeply hidden Potential to live up to the person they aspired to be, thereby retroactively justifying the Sorting they had cajoled their way into, is like a major story element, you know?
I feel like this is yet another one of those places where rowling is a fairly gifted drawer of engaging caricatures; where when she was drawing on her actual lived experience (as opposed to hearsay and stereotype) to create something imitating that thing (in this case Belonging To Category) by intuition, the result would have nicely proportioned parts and some solid symbolic details, and work on an internal level more-or-less consistently, if not necessarily according to any strict logic.
Rather than being realistic it had a feeling of reality, which is in itself a perfectly reasonable way to approach light fiction. I often find myself wishing I could work in this more gestural manner sometimes, instead of drilling relentlessly down to detail.
The trouble is that things like those verisimilitudinous gaps between what people do and how they interpret their own doing, which lend the setting a great deal of dynamism, are only sometimes intentional, and the longer she extends any one bit and the more seriously she attempts to take it, the more likely she is to fall into the gaps and loudly deny that she has done any such thing, while digging herself into a pit of stupid.
#ask#hoc est meum#Anonymous#harry potter shit#i forgot the word horoscope for fully seven seconds there#i think trans sister wanted to be a hufflepuff#painfully cis ravenclaw is a funny concept tho#note that the funny language used here was not something i was capable of at 14
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Meet My OCs: Tira
Welcome to Meet my OC, where I take a character from my WIPs and explain them in detail: who they are, what they do, and what makes them tick. today's lucky contestant is Tira from "Sunset".
Name: Tira Alderheart Nicknames: Candle Date of Birth: twenty-fifth of july, One-thousand fifty-nine AA Age: 20 WIP: Sunset Role: Main Love interst
Quote: “I want to burn bright, y’know? Achive something, leave an impact.”
Background & personality: who are they?
Tira Alderheart is the daughter of Selene and Cexi Alderheart. she has bright orange hair going down to about waist length and amber eyes. Tira stands at about 5'11. Tira is the oldest daughter in her family of primarily knights. her father, Cexi, is an instructor at the Ahri academy and Tira's tutor. she liked the idea of combat & picked up martial arts very quickly over swordsplay.
Tira has a optimistic outlook on life with a hard-working mindset. she was raised to be a warrior and fulfills the role of a combatant capable of becoming a knight. However, Tira was never the most academic. She picked up arithmetic fairly quickly but struggled with literacy. In fact, she failed the Literacy test required to enroll in the academy but was deemed competent enough for an exception to be made. It wasn’t until she met Lilli did her literacy improved. her familial connections and expectations made her very outgoing and extroverted, enjoying the company of her peers. she's also responsible and operates on a loose timetable, as her mother was often bedridden with illness. and, with her father often away from home instructing at the Knights academy, it was up to her to take care of her mother and the house. of course, she had help from other close family.
Hobbies
Tira doesn't have many hobbies people would consider interesting. she lifts weights and trains, while occasionally practicing playing her guitar. she's always happy to spar for the betterment of herself and whoever she's sparring with. she has a competitive streak when it comes to actual competition but doesn't mind losing.
Relationships
Tira loves her mom and adores her dad as well as her younger sister, who was turning four as Tira left for the Academy, and has many friends back home. she also has a good relationship with her extended family.
Tira is bisexual and actively sought a relationship, but was seen as unaproachable by many of her peers. she was a sparring buddy, a confidant, nothing more. When she meets Lilliwiess for the first time, she's amused by Lilli's skittish, guarded attitude, but respects her mental strength and ability to analyze the battlefield and her opponent. that, and Lilli is seven inches shorter than her: perfect cuddle size.
miscellanea facts:
her love language is food.
she has a fear of snakes
she loves high places
her favorite color is blue.
Taglist: @jakkon-and-rose-topic @angst-is-love-angst-is-life
as always, let me know if you like to be added or removed from the taglist, as well as any other questions you may have. thanks for reading. Cheers!
#writing#writeblr#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#writers of tumblr#writers#oc#oc wip#creative writing#sunset things#meetmyocs
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ignore, i just have nowhere to put this rant and no one to tell it to and need to get it into space while i have a quick mental breakdown
i’m just so fucking stressed about precalc and i’m fucking fed up and i don’t know what to do. like i actually don’t think i can pass this class. precalc is like a combination of algebra and geometry, so it would be fine if it weren’t for the fact that my school had shit algebra and geometry classes that barely taught anyone anything. we don’t know the basics going into the class, and we were all hoping to get the old precalc teacher who is actually a really good teacher and could’ve helped us, but he stopped teaching it for some reason this year and hired a new guy who doesn’t understand that we really don’t know anything. like most of my grade failed this test, and he gave us a lecture on it and said that we cleary didn’t study enough and it’s unacceptable that we don’t know it because it’s prettt much review, but WE DIDN’T LEARN IT BEFORE HOW ARE WE SUPPOSED TO KNOW NOW. and i did all of the homework, i asked my sister for help every night and had her explain it to me, i studied for two hours the day before the test, and i still got a 50% (BAD). and my stupid fucking sister keeps texting me and asking me about when i’ll need help and what i don’t get and I DON’T EVEN KNOW. BECAUSE MY TEACHER DIDN’T EVEN GIVE THE TESTS BACK OR PUT THEM IN THE GRADEBOOK HE JUST SHOWER PEOPLE THEIR SCORES. and i don’t even think he’s gonna give them back, so i don’t know if i actually didn’t know anything or if the questions i didn’t get to because im a slow ass test taker came back to bite me in the ass and it lost a lot of points because he grades by partial credit and he can’t give partial credit to questions i didn’t even get to in time. the whole thing is just fucking fucked and i don’t know how to pass the class and there’s really no alternatives because i have to have four years of math and you can’t really go into stats without precalc and you can’t go into college algebra because college algebra is just algebra 2 and i took algebra 2 freshman year and i can’t take the same class twice. i’m just completely fucking fucked and my grades about to dip so bad and i’m not gonna be able to get it back up and i’m not even comfortable talking to my teacher about it because he’s such a fucking weirdo and he explains everything so fast which doesn’t work for me because i’m an extremely visual learner when it comes to math and i have to have things explained to me slowly and written down first or it takes me forever to get it and i never get his answers when other people ask questions in class because he gets super condescending and explains it to you like you’re a stupid person who should already know it except i am a stupid person who should probably know it but i never had it taught to me in the first place so i don’t know how the fuck i’m gonna start knowing it now and i’m just stressed as FUCK and i’m gonna tell my therapist about this tomorrow and she’s just gonna say “well have you tried asking for help” yes i fucking have it didn’t WORK i just don’t get it ill ask my sister for help and she looks at me like im a lost cause every time i dont know something and says that i should already know it and tells me to watch a video about it and it doesn’t FUCKING HELP and everyone is so FUCKING CONDESCENDINF BEVAUSE I KUSY DONT UNDERSTAND MATH AND IM CRTINF SO FUCKING HARD RIGHT NOW
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Never Tell, chapter four - a Malevolent AU
John was weird. John was a weird baby. He didn’t cry right. It almost sounded like an adult pretending to cry, or trying to recall how, using baby vocal cords. He didn’t look around and absorb the world like Faroe did. He just watched Arthur, if Arthur was in view, and it was hard not to feel a little judged.
Fortunately, Faroe was so charming that she covered her brother’s weirdness up.
Chapter four of Never Tell, a Malevolent Bella-lives AU.
AO3
----------
The horrifying bruise on Arthur’s arm healed by the time Bella came home. It was mean, that injury. That was the only word for it—not just purplish red, but practically rope-burned, as if it hadn’t been enough to just cause him pain, but the dream-demon had tried to scar him, too.
On the day Bella came home, Arthur got a letter at their front door. In a thick, creamy envelope, sealed with actual wax, it terrified him for no reason he could place. He absolutely refused to open it, but was too spooked to throw it away, so it sat in the kitchen, mocking him to his face, while he and Bella tried to figure their new life out.
Arthur ignored it. He had to. He had no other choice. Besides, babies took time. So did father-in-laws with something to prove that no one, including him, understood. Daniel stuck around for a solid week. The babies needed something constantly. Arthur questioned his life choices.
The creepy guy did not reappear. So. That was good.
He couldn’t talk to Bella about all that. Whatever happened at the hospital left her thoughtful and distant, like she was considering something big. It felt like she had before she’d admitted to him she preferred women, two years before. That kind of big.
Well, pushing her wouldn’t produce results any faster (the opposite was true, in fact), so he focused, and took more gigs, and tried to make them money, and tried to be a dad.
#
Being a dad was hard, and they weren’t even fucking talking yet.
John was weird. John was a weird baby. He didn’t cry right. It almost sounded like an adult pretending to cry, or trying to recall how, using baby vocal cords. He didn’t look around and absorb the world like Faroe did. He just watched Arthur, if Arthur was in view, and it was hard not to feel a little judged.
Fortunately, Faroe was so charming that she covered her brother’s weirdness up.
She was the best baby. The perfect baby. Her little sounds were amazing; holding her, feeling her wriggles and her warmth, did something to Arthur’s heart that he lacked words to express. When he held Faroe, and smiled and sang to her, the world seemed like a better place.
Holding John was an experience, too, of course; it wasn’t as though he didn’t love his son. He just felt constantly like he was failing some daily test.
“I’m doing my best,” he informed his boy as he struggled with the romper they’d just been given by a kind neighbor. “How the fuck does this… oh. I see. Legs.”
The little dresses had been so much easier. This thing had leg-holes. Why? It just made them harder to change.
“Who designed this shit?” Arthur said.
John looked at him glumly.
“Yeah, tell me about it,” Arthur said, and finally got him buttoned.
“How’s the Bean doing?” said Bella, approaching.
Bean was John. Peach was Faroe. Arthur had yet to discern why. “Scary as ever.”
“Scary!” Bella grinned and scooped up her son, taking a moment to coo at him and touch her nose to his. “Scared of a newborn. I swear, Arthur Lester.”
“He knows I don’t know what I’m doing,” said Arthur.
“Derision from a kid who doesn’t know what he’s doing, either? Hooey,” said Bella, bouncing John a little (and there could be no damn doubt he didn’t look at her the same way). “You don’t know. First time baby, yes you are! Figuring out this whole son thing, and lemme tell you, Bean, I got my eye on you,” she said, working on her shirt. “A little help?”
Arthur fiddled with her shirt so the kid could have his meal. “He’s not crying. How can you tell he’s hungry?”
“Because it’s time to feed them,” said Bella, and John got to work.
John had given Arthur looks before when doing this. Not today; he suckled hard, messily demanding.
“Hey,” said Bella, soft. “I’m razzing you. You know that, right? You’re doing fine.”
Arthur tried to pretend he wasn’t tearing up, but he’d never been good at hiding things like that from Bella.
“Aww. Buddy,” said Bella, and patted his arm while John hungrily worked. “You’re okay. We’re figuring it out. And kids are made of rubber. Look at you and me; we’re okay, and if anybody was gonna get screwed up by their folks, it’d be us.”
“Mine are dead,” Arthur said intelligently.
“Yeah, and you’re about as kooky as I am, so I’d say it didn’t make that much of a difference.” She tilted her head, pointed chin raised.
Arthur laughed softly and picked up Faroe, who squealed with joy. “I guess you’re right.”
“I’m right. So. Did you open that fancy letter yet?”
No, Arthur had not opened the fancy letter yet. “It’s not from the government, or anything, so we shouldn’t have to.”
“Shouldn’t have to?” Bella’s fingertips stroked John’s whisper-soft hair; he was determined to drink more, but falling asleep, fighting a losing battle between open-mouthed unconsciousness and demanding suction. “We should want to! I mean, what the heck? Maybe you’re inheriting some castle from some rich cousin you never knew about.”
“More likely, some weird rich cousin’s found out I’m a fairy and decided off with my head, and it’s a summons to an execution,” Arthur muttered, and swapped babies. He burped John (who sleepily protested the indignity) while Bella fed Faroe.
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s at least know what it is.”
It was two weeks old. Surely, if it had been important, he’d have gotten another. Or coppers at the door. Or something.
Arthur sighed. “Come on, Arthur,” said Bella softly. “I know you’re scared.”
“I guess I just keep waiting to get caught,” he said, still avoiding that weird dream (or whatever it was) he’d had. “So many raids lately. So many arrests.”
“Yeah,” she said, low, because it was true.
“I’m just afraid of losing everything we have,” he said. “The freedom to talk in my own home. These little guys.”
“If you’re afraid of losing them, it’s not so bad,” Bella pointed out.
Arthur managed a smile. “I guess not. Just crazy. Babies.”
“Well, enjoy it while it lasts, because we are not doing this again,” said Bella, burping Faroe.
Arthur laughed. “Gods, I hope not.”
“Will you open that weird letter already?” she needled.
Her grin gave him courage, and he went to see what it said.
It was scented; something herbal and smoky, something rich, hints of a scent he might have picked up in some of the swankier clubs, though he’d never seen who wore it.
It wasn’t paper inside. Too thick; parchment, maybe, smooth, and written on in dark, floral handwriting.
To Mister Arthur Lester, of 26 Cornflower Avenue, Boston: Greetings and Felicitations!
It is my pleasure to invite you to join a contest of peculiar skill to be held from May to December in the year of our Lord 1924, in which you have earned a spot due to the success of your song, So Queer.
This contest carries a prize which we know you will appreciate: an annual salary of $2,000.00 a year for the rest of your life.
This contest, called the Vulgtmog competition, is five hundred years old, hosted by the Stanczyk family—a prestigious musical clan who have been great supporters of the arts for generations. Let us reassure you, Mister Lester, this is no joke; as proof, we include train tickets for you and your family to Old Port, Maine, from where we will provide transport across the sea.
The contest lasts several months, and we are aware this is a serious investment on your part. Therefore, no matter whether you win, you will be paid for your time $100 a week for the duration of the contests, and expenses for you and your family will be covered. You will also be given recommendations that should help you acquire whatever position you need in the industry thereafter.
Again, Mister Lester, this is not a joke. Your music charmed the Stanczyk scion, and he asked for you by name.
We hope you will come. For questions, you can call the Syha'h embassy in New York City at MU 7-2678. Please accept this invitation. We look forward to your participation.
Sincerely,
Mason, Underhill, Coombs, and McFarlane, barristers and solicitors for the Stanczyk family, First of Their Name, Heirs to the Bygone Throne, Merciful of the Hand of God.
Arthur stared at it. “What the fuck?” he said so loudly that he startled John awake, and then had to deal with him crying before he could handle reading this weirdness again.
#
“But it’s got to be a joke,” said Bella, staring at the four train tickets, which certainly felt real, and were printed with a reserve date three years in advance. “I just can’t think of who’d go to all this trouble to pull one over on us. I mean… this cost money.” She held up the letter. “This is fucking vellum. I felt it when dad sent me to that weird nun’s school for a year.”
Yeah, the all-girl school because Bella had been caught kissing a girl. Arthur shook his head. There were times Daniel’s reasoning escaped him. “I don’t know anybody who’d do this. I’ve also never heard of this contest, or this family.”
“That’s it,” she said, standing. “I’m going to the library. I need answers.”
“So do I!” Arthur protested.
She understood the cause of his panic. “They just ate. They’ll rest. You’ll be fine. And besides: I’ve got the dimple.”
Arthur snorted, then couldn’t help his laugh. It was true: she smiled like a pixie with a perfect right-cheek dimple, and so far, no one was immune to it. “Are you sure?”
“I want to walk, anyway. I’m really sick of being convalescent.”
He sighed. “All right. It’s fair. I was out last night. And I… I need to be more careful.”
“Those raids,” said Bella, and shook her head. “The fuck is wrong with everybody?”
“I don’t know, but we both need to be careful.” Good people who’d never done a wrong thing in their lives were getting dragged to jail. It was horrifying.
Bella went on her toes and kissed his cheek. It was a sweet moment, warm; encouragement from the one person who knew him best. “Don’t fear the babies. They already love you.”
Stupid eyes, watering again. “Be safe.”
“Always.” She winked, grabbed her scarf and coat and hat and purse, and left.
Faroe was out, and he was grateful. He sat with John, who seemed to be trying to communicate purely through eyebrowless stares and pursed pink lips.
“Think you’ll like Europe? It won’t be my first time in the Old World,” Arthur said. “Not that I remember England all that well. Also, I have no idea where Syha'h is. See-hah? Sai-yah?”
John huffed as if to say neither was right.
“Sai-yuh-hah,” Arthur said, being silly.
“Ah!” John said, evidently liking how that sounded.
Arthur laughed. “Sure. Why not? Syha'h, with more sounds than letters. Makes up for Worcestershire, doesn’t it? Not to mention the entire French language.”
And John… laughed? Maybe? It was a laugh, but it couldn’t have been in response to that joke.
“That’s right,” said Arthur. “Your dad’s a genius.”
And that was the driest look anyone had ever given anything in the history of the world.
“Oh, stow it,” Arthur said, grinning, and yawned. “I’m putting you next to your sister, we’re all going to get a nap, all right?”
“Ah,” said John as though conceding a point.
Faroe slept on (happily), and John didn’t fuss at being put down. Arthur lay on the table next to them, cheek pillowed on his arms, and tried not to feel bothered that John unblinkingly watched him fall asleep.
#
Syha'h, it turned out, was a tiny monarchist country tucked away in the Carpathian mountains, near Romania. It was ancient; it survived various takeover attempts because of its unassailable location; and exported enough gold that it was a freakishly rich little nation.
That was about all she could find.
“Damn it,” Bella muttered, shoving the enormous book further away on the table. Nobody knew anything about it. Vaguely Christo-pagan like much of Eastern Europe, it kept to itself and didn’t really bother its neighbors. The Stanczyk family had sat the throne for generations (and nobody knew why it was called the Bygone Throne, either), and she could find nothing on this supposed music contest.
At least the country was real. It was also so obscure that she couldn’t honestly believe this letter was a joke. Baffling. So Queer had been good, absolutely, but had it been that good?
Well, it had made her cry, a little. Ostensibly about a regular couple breaking up, she’d known what it really was: the cry of Arthur’s heart, lonely.
He’d sung it so much better than Hoagy Carmichael. And while the check from that song-rights purchase took the boot off their neck for months, still. She felt robbed, that instead of putting Arthur’s version on the radio, the studios bought it off him and left him uncredited.
Just wasn’t fair. Arthur was a good kid. He deserved better.
She was distracting herself. Bella shook it off. They had three years to decide if they were going to do this. That was plenty of time to figure it out. Funny, though, she thought as she headed home, her walk brisk and perky. They’d sent four tickets. The fact that they knew there were two kids, in fact, was… not great?
The kids were weeks old. Surely something like this took longer to set up? How did they know there were two kids? Why would they assume no more would show up in the next three years?
Maybe it was just standard to send four tickets.
She stopped on the way home and scrounged some emergency coins to call the embassy in New York. Which was useless. The heavily-accented voice on the phone sounded like some advertising agency and swore up and down the contest was real, and the country was friendly, but couldn’t give more details. So that was that.
Frustrated, Bella went home.
#
Months went by, and they had this down. Bella was even able to pick up some work from someone who didn’t assume being a mother meant she wasn’t good for anything else. Old Moseley let her clean his fancy-schmancy mansion and paid her under the table. He was nice, if lecherous. Neither of them gave a fuck if he watched her ass while she dusted as long as he paid, and he did.
Arthur was glad they hadn’t taken Daniel up on any of his offers. Owing someone wasn’t how he wanted this life to be.
But none of that mattered right now! Tonight had been planned for a while. He hummed as he shaved, hummed as he carefully styled his hair, hummed as he added cologne.
If only John wasn’t so damned fussy. He wouldn’t calm down. Yelling at Arthur, a tantrum of vowels, losing his tiny mind if Arthur stepped out of sight. Just not John’s normal behavior at all. Even Faroe seemed baffled.
Arthur walked with John, bouncing him lightly. “I really am going out tonight," he said, turning it into a song as he spun, dipping John with a grin. "You’re gonna have to get used to it sometime. Your pop’s got needs. You’ll understand someday.”
John cried.
“What the heck, kid? Come on… it’s okay, you’re okay. Are you sick?” He didn’t seem to have a fever. There were no diaper rashes. “Come on, John…”
John clutched him, tiny fists wrinkling his freshly-pressed shirt.
Arthur sighed, and maybe he was nuts, and maybe he was overtired, but he jumped to a conclusion he’d been worrying over for weeks, and who could say which of them he was trying to convince? “I know it’s been scary out there. I know.”
John’s eyes were huge, and his head wobbled as if trying to nod.
“John…” Arthur sighed. “This club is safe. They’d never raid it. A senator goes there. They’re not going to arrest a senator. It’s the safest drag club in Boston.”
John sniffled; his little rosebud lips trembled.
Arthur felt uneasy. “I’m telling you, it’s fine.”
“Ah!” shouted John, gripping Arthur’s index fingers with his little hands.
“Have I lost my marbles?” said Arthur, softly, because he found himself inclining to listen to his newborn son’s warning.
Warning? It wasn’t a warning! He was a clingy baby, that’s all!
John scowled. “Aaaaah!” he commanded.
If Arthur hadn’t already felt uneasy, it wouldn’t have mattered. If Arthur hadn’t already been afraid, he’d just stubborn his way through. But this…
John was a weird kid. He was; and the scar on Arthur’s arm from whatever that guy had done was still dark and red.
Arthur swallowed. “You don’t want me to go tonight.”
John stared daggers.
“What do you know about it? You don’t even have teeth,” Arthur said pejoratively.
John huffed at him.
The unease in Arthur’s chest did not settle. “You want me to give up one of the only nights off I get.”
John just looked at him.
Arthur sighed and found himself jumping into insanity head-first. “If you’re wrong about this, and nothing happens tonight, I’m never listening to you again. Deal?”
“Ah,” said John as solemnly as a wedding vow.
“Lost my damn mind,” Arthur muttered, but John calmed down. Right down. Arthur wasn't going, so apparently, everything was fine.
He had both babies in a happy place when Bella finally came home. “Ding ding ding!” she said, lofting a bag. “We got steak!”
Arthur did a double-take. “What? Steak? Since when?”
She grinned. “Since old Moseley decided he had too much, and I was just too skinny, and so he gave us two whole steaks to take home for dinner.”
Arthur laughed. “Seriously?”
Bella waggled her hips.
They couldn’t afford steak. The way prices were these days (and getting pricier), even buying bread was getting painful. “Incredible. How rich is that old coot, anyway?”
“Come on! You’re not due to go for a couple hours yet. Help me cook this.”
Arthur snorted. “I can’t cook for shit. Last week’s chicken was inedible.”
Bella peeled off her outer garments and tossed them cheerfully to the sofa. “The edges were inedible. The center was fine!”
Arthur laughed. “You just want me to be the wife.”
“Like you don’t want to be the wife.”
Boy, was that full of meaning. “Can’t happen,” he said, grim.
She refused to let his mood sink them. “Come on, pretty boy. It’s time to learn how to cook meat, not just play with it. You and me? We’re gonna eat tonight like the queens we are.”
He couldn’t say no to her. The dimple was all-powerful. “You know what? We are. Fuck the world.”
“Now, you’re getting it. Fuck ‘em.”
His jacket and tie joined her coat and scarf on the sofa, and they retreated together to their tiny kitchen.
#
Too full, he’d said.
Not tonight, he’d said.
I can go next week, he’d said.
But he couldn’t. The Lavender Club was raided, and the senator arrested, and the book thrown at every single nance because an example had to be made.
Arthur lost friends, good friends. He wept, staring at the newspaper, his fingers dimpling the cheap print. Bella kept her arm around his waist, comforting in silence, scared into a quickened heart rate. What the hell was happening in this country?
John was a fucking baby, and couldn’t have understood, but Arthur absolutely knew that was relief on his face, and though Faroe joined Arthur crying just because of baby reasons, John did not, but held Arthur’s finger as if trying to provide another anchor, trying to provide what comfort he could.
Arthur still didn’t tell Bella about that weird guy, or the scar, or this warning. He couldn’t. It felt like if he did, he’d wake up, and life outside this horrible dream might be even worse.
That night, they slept cuddled—just for comfort, not remotely sexual—and the babies stayed quiet. The entire Lester family slept better than they had in weeks, all of them exhausted.
In the kitchen, that weird letter sat, tickets and all, and dangled its promise of an unknown future.
#malevolent#malevolent fic#malevolent au#bella lester#arthur lester#faroe lester#john doe malevolent#kayne malevolent#never tell fic
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FOOLS Fall - Chapter 16 - Part 2
BOOK TWO: The 'Fools Fall in Love' Trilogy
*Warning Adult Content*
Noah Wright
Jason inhaled a long hit from the blunt he brought with him to Carter's.
We were all hanging out in Carter's basement, eating the Taco Bell we had picked up and filling the air with blown out smoke.
Sam sat by the window well which was propped open but did little to diminish the smoke.
Jason was telling us how... "Emily and I are officially together now," he spoke with a slight smile and got a response from each of us.
"Aye. That's what's up," Carter exclaimed happily for his friend and they exchanged a 'bro hug'.
Sam gasped.
"Oh my God. That's amazing,"
While I just commented.
"It's about fucking time."
Then more seriously.
"I'm happy for you guys," I told him.
"Thanks," Jason passed me the blunt as he continued.
"Yeah, I was stupid to let it drag out for so long."
What Jason meant was that he'd been friends with benefits with our high school friend, Emily, for a couple years then and neither of them would make it official.
Even though they were both clearly in love with each other.
I nodded, listening to him explain how their relationship became exclusive and how they're talking about moving in together.
Sam was overjoyed for them and already texting Emily probably a million emoji's to convey his excitement.
Carter was cracking his obnoxious jokes that only he found humorous like.
"Emily just couldn't get enough of that BBC of yours, huh?"
Carter questioned with a jesting wink.
"Yeah? And you can't get enough of that Senior, I heard. What's his name? Ellio?"
Jason came right back at him.
Carter smirked.
"Elliott," he said his name like it was a dirty secret he was finally able to gossip about.
"I never thought being with someone who's trans would be the perfect loophole for a bisexual as myself."
I rolled my eyes at him for speaking as if he found hidden treasure.
"I mean, I get pussy but he's into anal and he looks like a fucking angel, what more could I ask for?"
"You're in looove," Sam cooed as he drew out the sacred L word.
"I'm not in love," Carter brushed off.
"We're strictly friends who fuck sometimes," he shrugged as he packed a bowl with weed.
"And that's it."
Sam didn't seem to believe Carter.
I honestly believed him.
I couldn't imagine Carter being in love with someone, so it wouldn't surprise me if Carter was truly into Elliott solely for his body but hey, if they are both using each other for sex, then no harm done, right?
Elliott, however, I can see falling for Carter, somehow.
"Eh, I don't believe you," Jason announced before Switching to a more pressing matter.
"Anyway, Thanksgiving is in four weeks which means party at my house in Wisconsin?"
********
"So Thanksgiving at my house then we'll go back to your place and then after your class on Friday, we'll meet up with them in Wisconsin?"
Sam questioned to clarify plans.
Sam and I spent most of the day at Carter's.
It was a good time catching up with Jason but there was no other peace in the world quite like being alone with Sam.
Specifically Sam laying in bed with me while his head lays on my chest.
It was just past nine pm and I knew I should've left to go home a while ago but my willpower failed me and I just couldn't leave Sam's side.
Especially with the way he looked.
I was used to Sam wearing my t-shirt that fell to his mid thighs but damn he was just so sexy in it.
I couldn't keep my hand from sliding up and down his thigh, moving my shirt up on him.
I did that motion slowly as I spoke to him.
"Yeah, I got a test that day but I'll be quick and then I can leave early," I explained.
My hand moved to his ass and I lightly squeezed.
"Ya' know my parents are right down stairs?" Sam inquired but with a knowing smile that told me he didn't really care about that fact.
"That just means you're gonna have to be quiet," I whispered, then grazed my finger down his lips till I was tugging at the bottom.
"Can you do that?"
Sam glanced down at my mouth as he nodded.
I gripped his jaw and angled his chin up so I could firmly press my lips to his.
My hand fell down his neck then his torso before bringing my hand back to his thigh just to glide in slowly to his ass again.
We didn't go all the way.
Though, I did enjoy Sam going down on me.
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@nyantry
Dmitry was right to wait to touch. For as much Nico wanted to reach out himself he was feeling too cautious that this was some trick like he was being punked and it would all fall apart right after getting his hopes up. That's why he was scared this was too easy even as he kept inching closer.
Misery without him is unbearable.
That was poetry... whispered right in his ear. He closed his eyes and smiled while he lingered on the thought a little longer. It was a dreamy image for a mind like Nico's. It was the only sort of vision that could have brought him any peace at a time like this.
He needed to be needed.
With his eyes closed he kept listening to the other and Dmitry did not disappoint. He didn't care that Dmitry didn't trust Murmur. Neither did Nico. What he heard was Dmitry trusted him. The involuntary smile kept spreading. He started to notice that he was and became self conscious and opened his eyes as his front teeth came over his bottom lip. He nodded in understanding. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it. I'll help you along. I show you. You show me. We can stick together. It's how I always pictured life in all honesty."
Things kept falling into place.
He had to go for the deeper dive. He was too scared to feel this happy. So, he asked the main questions that he thought could truly destroy the peace of mind he was regaining.
Talk about nail biting anxiety to hear the answer. His face stayed so emotionless while he listened, his body so still.
First, it was the simple relief of knowing Dmitry hadn't been with anyone. The passionate way he explained why he couldn't added to fill in some of the hollow space that had been feeling so depleted and in such agony while parted.
However, he went on to how he didn't even want to see his face and that hurt considering there was never a time during their separation Nico had felt that way. There was only longing. He could only remember once he ever felt anger so red he was ever consumed to such extent. That was when Dmity dared want Leila at their wedding space when he put her in his grave without even talking things through with him first. Nico had never been hurt like that day.
Then Nico suddenly popped out of his stillness and eyerolled the excuse comment about the ring in Russia. That was so Dmitry playing the human game by human rules attempting to fit into human standards. Stupid Russia. Stupid human governments. Stupid arrogance of humans thinking enforcing their will on others is good in any scenario. The concept just started to annoy his brain even though it wasn't the main topic. Nico's mind had a tendency to stray.
What brought Nico's attention back to front and center was Dmitry admitting he wanted him to come after him.
He gave that a think. He spoke in a soft, slow, monotone, very matter of fact tone as he went. "Yeah okay. So, you were too prideful to come back home after you realized you failed me then decided to torture me longer by turning it into a mind reading test where I was supposed to know your leaving where you initially didn't want to see my face one day changed to actually come chase me even though I'm not a mind reader, and I was supposed to magically know when that day was, because I'm magic Nico that just knows everything, and couldn't possibly take your actions for face value, meaning you left becaue you wanted to be gone. I couldn't possibly have been sitting around all that time trying to respect your boundaries like a good person instead of invading them because I thought you like good people and not fucking demons anymore and only a bad person aka demon boy would invade your space when you clearly left because you wanted to be gone.... except you didn't.
You wanted me to be me... and do my invadey shenaniheist and say look at me fucker. I love you. But I didn't. And now four years are gone." He paused, gave his head a scratch, his chin a rub, then a good nod. "Yeah, actually, that makes sense to me. I mean it's wack. You suck. I suck. But heyyyyyyy. Those are exactly the kind of things that always happen in my life. Shit luck. Yeah, actually, I'm completely good with this explanation. Only things this shitty can happen to me. It makes total sense to me."
Then he sat there on his knees appearing really bummed out and really pissed off at whoever got to share an apartment with Dmitry all this time. Like really? He wasn't even alone all this time like him? Well, besides the ghosts, but those are involuntary guests. Nico couldn't get rid of them if he tried. It sort of disgusted him.
"Shared? Who was a jerk? I'll go deal with it. Let's go get Gary." Nico said ready to go handle business right away in defence of Dmitry's honor day one of him being back. "Just give me a name." No one's an asshole to his baby, not even while he wasn't there. Especially while he wasn't there... or maybe he just wanted to release some anger out on the person that stole all his time. Yeah, that was probably it. His heart was starting to pound at the very idea of this person existing because he probably would have been just as upset if the person was nice. Then he'd just have been jealous in a different way because it all happened without his involvement during sands dropped in the hourglass of Nico's marriage. His time. His. Everything started to feel so unfair.
Four years of days that he knew nothing about. It just started to kill his heart that these days were shared with some rando.
His eyes started to well up as he wore his hostile face ready to go deal with whatever nonsense he was making up in his head this time. He had to face down the evil roomate and save Gary, bring him back home to safety and solitude. His eyes started to dart around the room a bit more franticly as his emotions started to get away from him. He was trying to stay contained, but it was proving difficult.
He was picturing subjecting Gary and Lisbeth to some schmuck of a person just to pay half the rent? His brain couldn't fathom it. His brain couldn't fathom drowning in misery without being alone while doing it. The concept was so foreign to him. All he ever did was self isolate. Going out to a job to get money and maintaining the human condition of survival through capitalism was weird enough to a person like Nico, but he understood the concept. It was all Dmitry knew. But damn. Just... damn.
He stood up. He grabbed his phone like he was getting ready to go as if Dmitry was simply going to oblige him. But, he also kept looking around clueless like he had no idea what he was doing, no focus. The noises were starting again.
Fuck. It always happens when he gets overwhelmed. He couldn't think. The Hell Radio was fuzzing and tuning itself in and out. He started to cuff his hands over his ears like a sensory sensitive autistic child and pushed hard. He still had his phone in one hand, but he didn't care. He just wanted to cover those ears. Shut it all out. He closed his eyes. He was trying to shut it all down, all his senses, whatever would help calm it. He started to mumble-hum, blocking it every way he knew how.
Then as he was doing this self soothing ritual rocking his body and cringing, he slowly started to loosen up noticing a new sound.
It was Constance. Nico's journal entry was still up on his phone. He hadn't look down to read it yet, but when he mashed it against his head to cover his ears he must have hit the link from Dmitry's reply. As the song played it slowly changed Nico's body language from tight and hurting and trying to sooth himself to being soothed. He was relaxing. He'd keep touching the outside of his arms across his body. Eventually, he opened his eyes again. He must have listened to song five times before his body could calm all the way down from the Hell Radio attack.
Dmitry wanted nothing more than for things to be back to normal, though he also knew deep down that it would not be easy. It had been a long time, and like he had told Nico, things matter and the world shouldn’t be the same for it. But for right now, he just wanted the safety of Nico’s presence, and the promise that they’d figure things out rather than explode on each other.
The way Nico was looking at him while he changed did not escape Dmitry’s notice. He liked it; he loved that Nico, at least, thought he was beautiful, even if he couldn’t himself come up with how or why. It was one of those things he just accepted – sky is typically blue, grass is typically green, Nico admires and loves me.
He also did not miss Nico’s sort of anxious demeanor, it was right there, plain as day. That, he could understand. He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t nervous as hell to show up, to speak, to see Nico again – but he had to do it. He needed Nico. He chose not to comment on the obvious anxiety, figuring it might just make it worse if he said anything. Nico was very matter-of-fact, but he was also still human in that sense, and Dmitry had to protect that, keep it safe.
He listened to Nico speak, giving a rephrased explanation of what he had meant to say in that conversation Dmitry referenced. While Nico spoke, Dmitry watched, eyeing him curiously, taking in every detail he had long missed. The way that words sounded coming from him, the way his lips turned and curled to form those words, the way he came closer just to make a point and speak personally, the way he referenced some old movie Dmitry had seen a thousand times… It was all art. It was all precious. Dmitry wanted to snapshot that, to capture it forever, to keep it hanging in a moment of eternal time, just for himself, just to indulge in, just to swim in.
But he nodded when Nico paused to verify. “I did, I said you’re right.” He didn’t dare interrupt beyond that, not wanting to stop Nico on his beautiful roll, not wanting to interrupt art.
He instinctively reached to pet Lisbeth, but quickly got too engrossed in Nico’s words to really actually do anything. The way Nico phrased things was so unique to him, so exactly horrific that Dmitry couldn’t help but love it and feel drawn to it. The halfling’s ways had sort of rubbed on him a bit: death was beautiful. Only Nico would offer to be pain, to be death, and mean it as words of comfort, of passion, of desire. Only Nico could do that. Dmitry wanted to eat that all up, savor every bit.
Nico was right, too. Dmitry didn’t want the usual platitudes people gave – that was the point. They were meaningless. Dmitry wanted someone who could see the suffering and join in solidarity, acknowledge it without squandering it to nothingness. He wanted someone who could feel like he felt, rot like he rotted, die like he died. Nico was that, to him.
“I’ll be miserable,” he said quietly, just for Nico, “but I’ll love every second. I need you, though. Misery without you is… unbearable.” He wanted to reach closer, to touch Nico’s face, to put their foreheads together and kiss him, but he was scared that if he did, Nico would somehow reject him, and he couldn’t bear rejection right then. Not like that.
“I do mean it, yeah. I… can’t promise to participate, it’s really jarring to me and they do things I could never. But… I want to understand. It matters to you, which means it matters to me, and I trust you but I want to understand too,” he explained. “I don’t trust Murmur, I don’t know how I could, but I trust you and I don’t want you to be alone, not with something so important to you. Show me how to do better?”
He could sense the harder question coming, from that feeling that leaked from Nico’s soul to his own soul. He paid extra attention to those words, those of Nico asking him about the past four years and about where they were standing now. Nico deserved that, he deserved every ounce of care for that.
Once Nico was done asking, he sighed and shook his head silently. “No. I’m not really one to just be with anyone, but… after what happened, being in your soul like that, I don’t think I ever could be with anyone else. I’d rather die alone than pretend someone else approaches even a fraction of what you are. I couldn’t possibly,” he confessed. “I at first didn’t even wanna see your face, I was that angry and hurt,” he said. “I guess… by the time I processed that, I didn’t know how to come back; it felt like there was nothing I could say or do that would be enough for you to understand, let alone forgive me for that. You asked of me, and I asked of you, and frankly I don’t care at this point what I wanted – I just feel like I failed you entirely,” he added.
“So no, no one. I married you. I made up a bunch of excuses for the ring whenever I got asked, people ask. It’s not exactly legal to have a husband over there and I didn’t want trouble even though I can break out of human prison easy. I just wanted to lay low. At some point, I did want you to come for me, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask, to tell you. I left, I had no business expecting you to come for me.”
He paused and looked down at Lisbeth, collecting his thoughts for a moment. Then he lifted his gaze back to meet Nico’s, to speak. “I don’t wanna ask what you did. It’s not that I don’t care; I do. A lot, actually. I just don’t think I could handle knowing if you… I see you a certain way, and I wanna keep that. I didn’t give you much to go on when I left, I don’t think I even dared to expect anything from you. I don’t get to do that, not this time. I’ll answer anything you want to ask, though.”
“The apartment’s shared; he’s kind of a jerk though. I also didn’t wanna risk staying after the whole war thing, I can’t imagine what I’d do if Lisbeth or Gary got hurt. I’d be fine, but without them? No. You’d never forgive that, either, I think. I brought Lis, Gary’s safe too but I gotta go fetch him also. But… I’m here for you. I just can’t, not anymore. Is my mom okay? Is your mom okay? I need to know that.”
[ @iconoclast-infidels ]
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Feline Antics Kuroo x GN! Reader
Ahhh! I’m so excited to finally post something I have written online!!! This is a big step for my anxious ass. Anyway, thank you @taeyamayang for encouraging me! This drabble is dedicated to Aria and Momo my fav scrappy black cats
It’s def not my fav work i’ve written- but it’s a start.
Word count: 705
Summary: Kuroo tries.... and fails to convince y/n that he is a dog person with his cat like antics
Likes, reblogs and comments are much welcomed!!! Gives me writting fuel!!!
“So what did you get?”
“19/20, beat that, loverboy.” I tease, shaking my phone at him.
“Read it and weep, honeybunch.” He dangles his phone in front of my face. “Read it and weep.”
No way. “What?” I snatch his phone. “Lemme see.” The four numbers mock me.
20/20.
“I guess i’m just the better partner.” Kuroo gloats. “I could’ve told you thaAAT-” Kuroo ducks, almost falling off the couch, as i wack him with my stuffed animal, a comically large stuffed goose Kuroo gave me as ‘thinking of you’ gift since geese are small and cute. It Would have been sweet if he didn’t follow that with “needlessly loud and aggressive.”
I wacked him with it then too. Then named it Mr Honk.
“How embarrassing,” he teases. “After you begged me to take this little relationship test too.” “I didn’t beg!” I whine. “I don’t beg!” He raises his eyebrow. Don’t do it. He smirks. “You sure did last-” “OH MY GOD!” I cut him off as he cackles. I’m dating a man child. “Whatever.” I scoff as I scroll through all the questions and my eyes finally land upon it. The only question I got wrong, the one that gave Kuroo another reason to tease me, if he didn’t have enough of those already and an even bigger head. Question 12. Does your partner prefer dogs or cats? A simple question. A no brainer. Cats, obviously. Except the red ‘x’ too it says otherwise.
“That’s why!” I exclaim.
“Hmm? You found out why i am the superior parter?” he teases. I roll my eyes. “You wish.” I tossed him my phone. “You pressed the wrong answer, dummy.”His eyebrows furrow as he retorts; “No, i didn’t?” “Yeah you did! You pressed ‘dogs’ instead of ‘cats’. Therefore, we tied!” I said smugly. “Except, I did press the right answer. I’m more of a dog person.” he explains“ Bullshit!” I roll my eyes.
“I’m telling the truth! Is this because I was the captain of Nekoma? With my suave graceful movements and agaile abilities?” He pridefully boasts, looking like the cat that got the canary. “Yeah the same agileness that broke three different lamps. Two in the same day, as well.” Kuroo scoffs, offended by the facts. “I’m tall, Y/n! My lanky limbs have to go somewhere!” He pouts, wiggling said lanky limbs for effect. “Yeah, but they couldn’t have been lanky anyplace besides right next to my nightstand? Or my coffee table, or my-“ “Ok, Ok I get it!” He whines. “All of that only helps plead my case.” I state.
“You mean the one that I’m a cat.”
“Yes. Cats break shit left and right too.”
“Okay, left and right is a little excessive!”
“But not wrong. Let’s also talk about the fact how you hiss when I sprayed water on you.”
“Anyone would when you spray water on them!”
“People don’t hiss Tetsu! You full on hissed like a vampire in the sun!
“….So like Kenma.”
I pause for a moment. “A little bit, yeah I guess. He’s like a cat too, but that’s a whole different story. He’s like a old calico cat, just minding his business while you are a little scrappy black cat. Causing chaos and mischief.” “I’m not scrappy, i’m resourceful and resilient!” He corrects. “You’re scarppy”. I deadpan. “The scrappy little black cat antagonizing and teasing everyone always causing a ruckus and always needs attention and affection. No matter how much they deny it.” “I don’t demand nor need your attention!” He huffs.
“Tetsu?”
“Yes, love?”
“You are literally laying on my right now.”
Kuroo looks down to realize that he is indeed laying across my lap and is silent for a moment, Before he snuggles closer into me.
“The fact that I’m laying on your lap means nothing.” He pulls up the blanket over his lap. “Now shh. I’m sleeping now.”
I smile and roll my eyes once more, something I rarely did before my cat-like boyfriend waltz his way into my life. “See? Demanding.”
“Shh!”
#kuroo x reader#kuroo x you#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo testuro#Kuroo fluff#kuroo drabble#Haikyuu x reader
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Good Girl - George Weasley
Title: Good Girl Pairing: George x female!slytherin!Reader Summary: George has been the reader’s enemy since their first year at Hogwarts together and now, in their final year the universe keeps throwing them together in ways that make the reader question why she ever hated George in the first place. Warnings: NSFW!! Slight Dom!george, begging, slight orgasm denial, thigh riding, oral (Male and female receiving), throat fucking, fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex A/N: The summary is shit but it’s an enemies to lovers slow burn. Seriously this is 22k words I lost control. This is for @those-born-to-fight who wanted some enemies to lovers with a Slytherin reader! There’s two different ~spicy~ scenes and the tiniest touch of angst towards the end. Feedback is always welcome, and requests are open!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
“God, do they ever just shut up?” Y/N grumbles, getting up to slam the door to her compartment closed. Adrian and Marcus laugh at her, but immediately stop when she glares at them, not wanting to face the consequences of annoying Y/N further.
There are very few things that Y/N outright hates. The list of things that mildly annoy her is quite long, but she reserves the word hate for only those special things that make her want to rip her hair out at the mere mention of them. Fred and George Weasley happen to be at the top of that list.
Like most students, Y/N had been enamored by the twins and their antics at first. Despite the fact that many of their practical jokes were aimed at members of her house and Snape, she found them quite funny. She had even thought about befriending the twins, the rivalry between their houses be damned. But after finding herself on the receiving end of a few too many Weasley practical jokes, she had begun to loathe them.
“I don’t know why you let them get under your skin,” Daphne comments, her tone dry and dull. Despite the fact that her eyes haven’t left the copy of Witch Weekly she’s flipping through, Y/N knows she’s been watching her fidget as the Weasley twins got rowdier and rowdier from their compartment down the hall.
“Because they’re, they’re,” Y/N pauses, trying to find the words to describe just how vile the Weasley Twins make her feel. “There isn’t even a word in the English dictionary that perfectly describes how insufferable they are.” She flips Adrian and Marcus off as they laugh at her frustration.
Daphne rolls her eyes and finally puts her magazine down. “You’re so dramatic, Y/N. Just drown them out like everyone else does. Take me, for example. I haven’t heard a thing either of them has said since third year.”
“That’s because they leave you alone, Daph,” Marcus drawls, coming to Y/N’s defense. This isn’t the first time the four of them have had this conversation and it surely will not be the last. “It’s kind of hard to ignore them when they send bludgers at you hard enough to knock your head off of your shoulders.”
“It’s pretty easy to knock someone’s head off of their shoulders when there isn’t anything in it, Marcus,” Daphne teases, pushing his shoulder lightly.
Adrian pretends to throw up at their behavior, causing Marcus to hit him over the head while Y/N laughs. Adrian ends up hitting Marcus back, and the boys hit at each other for a few moments while Daphne rolls her eyes and Y/N eggs them on.
“The contents of Marcus’s head aside,” Adrian says as he plops down next to Y/N, his breathing heavy from wresting Marcus to the ground. “He’s got a point, Daph. You’ve never actually been the victim of a Weasley prank. So, frankly your opinion doesn’t matter.”
Daphne flips Adrian off and picks her magazine up again. “I’m just saying. There are better things for Y/N to focus her attention on than those stupid Weasleys.”
“Yeah, whatever. I’d like to see you ignore them after they charm your shampoo to turn your hair neon yellow. It didn’t go back to normal for weeks!” Adrian laughs at the memory, and Y/N punches him in the thigh. “Watch yourself, Pucey or I’m gonna put yellow dye in your shampoo.”
“Trying to get in the shower with me, are you?” Adrian teases, throwing his arm over Y/N’s shoulder.
“In your dreams,” Y/N responds, picking up the book she had discarded after a particularly loud shout came from one of the Weasley twins.
She can feel Adrian chuckle as she leans into his side. “I’ll see you there.”
-
Y/N had almost forgotten about the Weasley twins entirely until she feels something hit her in the back of the head during dinner. She picks a piece of mashed potato out of her hair as she turns around, her eyes like daggers as she searches for the culprit. Of course, Fred and George are laughing to themselves, each of them waving at her as they make eye contact.
“Nice to see your hair back to normal, Y/N!” One of them, Fred she thinks, shouts at her.
“Yeah, I reckon if your hair had been yellow any longer you’d have to join Hufflepuff,” the other teases, causing the Gryffindors around them to laugh.
Y/N goes to stand up so she can knock the grins off of their faces, but Adrian puts his hands on her shoulders and forces her to sit back down. “It’s not worth it,” he hisses into her ear. “Not in front of all of the professors. Be smart about your revenge.”
Y/N glares at Adrian, but she relaxes, nonetheless. As much as she hates to admit it, Adrian is right. It’s only the first day back, she doesn’t need to go and get detention and lose Slytherin a bunch of points. Not yet at least.
“Hey Marcus, do me a favor and knock them off their brooms first chance you get.”
-
“You’re awfully cheery this morning,” Y/N comments to Daphne as they head up the stairs towards the Great Hall.
“What isn’t there to be cheery about? It’s the first day of the school year. Our last school year,” Daphne responds dreamily.
Y/N snorts in laughter, rolling her eyes at her best friend. “Ah yes. The hardest year of school yet, that certainly is something to be happy about.”
“Oh NEWTS? Who cares about those,” Daphne says casually as they enter the Great Hall and head towards the Slytherin table. “You don’t need good grades in school to be a good wife and mother.”
Y/N scoffs, choosing not to say anything. Unlike Daphne and most of the other girls in her house, she plans on actually having a career of her own. It is common for pureblood families to marry off their daughters to the sons of other pureblood families and often times the mark of a good pureblood girl wasn’t her brain, but her ability to stay silent, look pretty and boss around a house elf.
Thankfully, Y/N’s parents hadn’t raised her with the same values. They didn’t believe in the same archaic things most pureblood families did, and they had raised Y/N to have loftier ambitions than to be someone’s wife and a mother. Y/N’s father always joked that she had inherited her mother’s smart mouth, so it would be impossible for them to marry her off anyway.
“Just because you don’t care about your grades doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t. Right, guys?” Y/N asks as they sit down, looking for both Marcus and Adrian to back her up.
“Are you guys on this again?” Adrian asks, rolling his eyes. Much like Y/N’s hatred of the Weasley twins, Daphne failing to take school seriously was a frequent topic of conversation in their friend group.
“No need to get your panties in a twist, Pucey,” Y/N teases as she grabs some toast. “Daph is free to sit back and spend her last year of school doing nothing, but I on the other hand plan on actually doing good on my NEWTS. So, feel free to slack off with her, or study with me, I don’t really care.”
Marcus chuckles at Y/N’s attitude. “Damn, Y/N tell us how you really feel.”
Y/N chucks a piece of toast at Marcus’s head before she reaches for her bag. “Oh, I almost forgot, I’ve got all of your schedules.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small stack of papers, handing their designated paper to each friend.
“Wow, slacking on your Head Girl duties already and it’s only the first day of term,” Adrian teases with an easy smile.
Y/N flicks his ear. “You’re just jealous that you didn’t make Head Boy.”
Adrian rolls his eyes as he scans over the piece of paper. “Me? An administrative stick in the mud? I don’t think so.”
“Nah mate, you just were looking forward to spending hours alone with Y/N,” Marcus teases, causing both Y/N and Adrian to throw pieces of muffin at him.
“Moving on,” Daphne drawls, clearly tired of their antics. “What’s everyone got first lesson? I’ve got divination.”
When both Marcus and Adrian announce they have Arithmancy, Y/N frowns. “Guess I’ll be heading to Potions alone then.”
-
As Y/N heads down to Potions after breakfast she can feel her mood sinking. Potions is one of her favorite classes, and not just because Snape tends to favor Slytherins. She finds the art of Potions fascinating, and each lesson always tests the bounds of her knowledge. But class is always more enjoyable with her friends around.
Her mood only worsens as the Weasley Twins fall into step beside her, one on each side.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here, Georgie?” the twin on the left, who is obviously Fred, says playfully.
“Looks like little Y/N is heading to potions, Freddie,” George responds, lightly knocking into her shoulder.
Y/N stumbles on the step despite the light touch. Both Fred and George have a good six inches on her, and their time as beaters on the Gryffindor team has obviously left them both toned and muscular.
“And without her little gang of friends, what a shock,” Fred adds with a laugh as Y/N finds her balance.
“Friends? What friends?,” George teases.
When they reach the bottom of the stairs, Y/N glares at each of them. “You two dimwits are in NEWT level potions? Snape must have lowered his standards.”
“Oh Y/N how you wound us,” George gasps, clutching his chest.
Y/N rolls her eyes as they enter the Potions classroom, determined not to let the twins bother her. Daphne did have a point on the train yesterday, there were other things she needed to focus on besides the twins and their stupid games.
She takes her usual seat at the front of the classroom, expecting the twins to slink to the back of the class, far away from Snape’s prying eyes. Her fist automatically clenches when they slide into the seats directly behind her, her nostrils flaring.
This year certainly is going to be the hardest yet, and not just because of the rigorous coursework, Y/N thinks to herself as Snape begins class.
-
“You look, how do I put this nicely.” Marcus pauses. “Flustered.”
Y/N glares at him as she flops down next to Daphne. Potions had been an absolute disaster. She could hardly focus on her Memory Potion, too busy picking out the Jobberknoll Feathers the Weasley Twins kept putting in her hair. She had managed to make something barely acceptable, and Snape’s disappointment was evident.
“Screw off, Marcus. I just spent an hour dealing with Dimwit 1 and Dimwit 2 standing behind me doing everything in their power to piss me off. So, unless you wanna end up with your head in one of those pots and dragon dung fertilizer up to your ears, shut your mouth.”
Daphne laughs at Y/N’s outburst. “I told you just to ignore them, Y/N. Although dragon dung fertilizer up to the ears does sound like the perfect revenge plan. Not that I’m condoning letting someone, or someones, get under your skin so badly that you need revenge,” she pauses, winking at Y/N. “But if I were I think that would be the way to go.”
Before Y/N can get too lost in the thought of burying Fred and George in Dragon Dung Professor Sprout is entering the Greenhouse and starting class. But she definitely pushes the idea to the back of her mind for future consideration.
-
“I’m going to fling myself off the top of the astronomy tower,” Y/N announces as she collapses next to Daphne in the common room. After her short break from the Weasley Twins in Herbology, Y/N had to suffer through a double transfiguration and a charms lesson with them both sitting too close for comfort.
“Could you at least wait until it’s closer to the end of term? We could probably get an extra week off at the Christmas holiday,” Adrian says, not even bothering to look up from the Quidditch playbook in his lap.
Y/N groans, putting her head in her hands. “I need better friends, none of you are sympathetic of my suffering.”
“If you need sympathy go hang out with some Hufflepuffs,” Daphne tells her, throwing her arm around Y/N’s shoulder. “What did the twins do this time?”
Instead of answering Y/N reaches for her bag and pulls out her charms book, handing it over to Daphne. “Go ahead. Try and open it.”
Daphne gives her a look as she cautiously takes it from her hands. She shares a look with Marcus and Adrian, who were finally intrigued enough to pay attention, before she slowly opens it. As soon as it falls open there’s a whizzing noise followed by loud pops as a mini firework show starts to go off. Daphne squeals and quickly shuts the book, her eyes wide.
“What in the hell was that?” she asks, tossing it back to Y/N.
“Whatever it was it was kinda cool. Open it again,” Marcus says with a laugh.
Y/N glares at him and shoves the book back in her bag. “Fred and George did something to it, obviously. It scared the shit out of me when I opened it in class. Flitwick took 30 points! 20 for the interruption it caused and 10 for the curse word I yelled.”
Adrian and Marcus erupt in a fit of hysterics as they imagine the scene it must have caused, and Y/N gets up so she can beat both of them with a pillow. They both pick up their own pillows to retaliate, and the three of them spend the next several minutes hitting each other. It only ends when a spare pillow ends up flying over and smacking Pansy Parkinson in the back of the head, causing all four of them to collapse in fits of laughter.
Y/N is the first to calm down, wiping a few stray tears from her eyes. “Oh, that was absolutely incredible. Just what I needed.” As the rest of her friends pull themselves together Y/N grabs her bag. “Come on, let’s go to dinner. I wanna catch Dimwit 1 and Dimwit 2 so I can make them fix my stupid book.”
-
When the four of them arrive at the Great Hall Daphne, Marcus and Adrian head towards the Slytherin table, while Y/N makes a beeline towards the Gryffindor table. “Oi! Weasley!” When three red heads whip around to look at Y/N she sighs. Only one of the twins is sitting at the table, and it’s a 50/50 chance she gets it right, so she decides to just take a guess at which one it is. “George!”
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” George asks as Y/N reaches the table.
She smiles to herself, proud that she had gotten it right. Y/N had never taken the time to learn the differences between the two, but now that she’s examining George she can tell that his eyes are softer, like there’s some reservation behind them. She takes out her charms textbook and places it on the table in front of him.
“Fix it,” she demands.
“Fix what?” he asks coyly, a mischievous smile on his face.
Y/N clenches her fist and takes a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. “Don’t play stupid, Weasley. Just fix my book.”
George laughs. “Who said I’m playing stupid? You’re the one that called me a dimwit earlier, and you’re right. I am a dimwit.”
Their exchange has caught the attention of the Gryffindors sitting around them, and they’re all watching Y/N intently, smiles playing at the corners of their mouths.
“Look, your stupid little prank has already served its purpose. It scared me and I lost Slytherin some points. Just fix the damn thing, will you?” Y/N is starting to get desperate, but she doesn’t let it show. She keeps her expression blank, not wanting George to know how truly bothered she is.
“I don’t know. Maybe I would be more inclined to fix it if you asked me nicely, Y/N,” his tone is teasing, so much so it almost sounds condescending. The students sitting around them laugh lightly, waiting to see what Y/N does next.
Y/N grits her teeth, weighing her options in her head. She could stand here and nicely ask George to fix her book, or she could walk away and send an owl home to have her parents send her a new one. And even though she is tempted to just take the easy way out, she’ll be damned if she lets a Weasley twin get one over on her.
She takes a deep breath and plasters a sickeningly sweet, fake smile on her face. “George, would you please fix my Charms book?”
A look of surprise quickly crosses George’s face, before he replaces it with an easy smile. “Of course, Y/N. Thank you so much for being a good girl and asking nicely.” The Gryffindor table is basically in full on hysterics by now, and Y/N can feel her cheeks heating up. As soon as George has pressed his wand to her book and muttered the countercharm she snatches it off the table.
“Thanks so much, George,” she forces out, before she turns to head over to the Slytherin table. “Fucking prick.”
She sits down between Adrian and Draco Malfoy with a huff, already trying to figure out what her revenge will be. The conversation she’d had with Marcus and Daphne in Herbology pops back into her head and a wicked smile forms on her face.
-
“Why couldn’t you get Daphne to do this? It’s freezing out here,” Adrian whispers as he shivers.
Y/N rolls her eyes as they tiptoe through the greenhouse. “And you lot call me dramatic.” They both freeze in place when they hear a creek, but when no other noise comes they continue on. “Daphne Greengrass, awake past 10 pm? Ms. Beauty sleep is a nightmare if she doesn’t get a full 8 hours, you know that.”
When they reach the container Professor Sprout keeps the Dragon Dung fertilizer in she turns to Adrian, giving him a mischievous grin. “Besides, you know you’d regret it if you didn’t come with me. Now quick, hand me the bags.”
After they get the required materials from the Greenhouse, she and Adrian quietly sneak back in the castle and head up towards the Owlery. It takes them longer than anticipated, since they have to keep ducking behind statues and into classrooms to avoid Filch and Mrs. Norris, but eventually they make it. They both sigh in relief when they return to the common room 30 minutes later, the final part of Y/N’s plan in place for the morning.
“You kind of amaze me, you know that?” Adrian says with a laugh as they both head towards the staircases that lead to their dorms.
Y/N chuckles and shakes her head. “You’re only nice to me so you don’t end up on the end of one of my revenge plans.”
-
The next morning Y/N is up bright and early, her body practically vibrating with excitement. Despite the fact that the Weasley Twins have been pulling pranks on her since first year, this is the first time she’s decided to retaliate.
She could deal with most of their antics. Locking her in the toilets, charming her shampoo, hitting her with snowballs and every other little trick or joke they pulled, Y/N could just grin and bear it. But having to stand in the middle of the Great Hall and practically beg George to fix her book was her tipping point. She can practically still hear him calling her a good girl and it causes a shiver to run down her spine. After today Fred and George will certain think twice about messing with her.
“Hurry up!” she urges her friends as she races to the top of the stairs. The owl post will be arriving in a few minutes, and there is no way she’s missing the big show. Adrian picks up his pace to meet her, but Daphne and Marcus continue up the stairs slowly, caught up in conversation. “You lot are hopeless.”
Y/N practically skips into the Great Hall and after sitting down where she knows she’ll have the perfect view of what’s about to happen she rubs her hands together. Daphne and Marcus give her a confused look as they sit down across from her and Adrian, who thankfully shares her excitement.
“What has gotten into you, Y/N, you look like you’re about to jump out of your skin,” Daphne comments, sounding slightly concerned that her friend may have gone mad.
As the first few owls start to fly in, Y/N grins and gestures towards the Gryffindor table. “Shush, shush. Just look over there and you’ll find out.”
Y/N holds her breath as two familiar owls fly in, each of them holding a package. They soar towards the Gryffindor table, and instead of gracefully dropping their parcels in front of their recipients they drop them a few moments early. The brown paper bags explode as they hit Fred and George at the same time, Dragon Dung Fertilizer pouring down their heads and onto their shoulders and laps.
The entire Great Hall is silent for a moment, before nearly every student bursts into laughter. The most noise comes from the Slytherin table, and Y/N’s chest swells with pride. Adrian pats her on the back as Daphne and Marcus turn back to congratulate her on a prank well done.
Y/N can’t stop looking at the Twins, and her breath catches in her throat when they return her gaze. She sends them both a wink and a wave, giggles still falling from her lips.
-
“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” George asks Y/N as he and his brother slide into the seats behind her and Daphne in Defense Against the Dark Arts that afternoon. She hasn’t seen either of them since they left the Great Hall to get cleaned up, but at lunch Astoria informed her that Ginny Weasley had told her that both boys were quite annoyed.
Y/N laughs but doesn’t turn around to look at either of them. “Nice to see you boys managed to clean up.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” Fred says, leaning forward in his seat to ensure Y/N hears him.
She rolls her eyes, but still doesn’t look back at them. “What? You can’t take what you dish out? I thought you two were tougher than that.” Daphne nudges Y/N, gesturing to the front of the classroom where Professor Umbridge is now standing, clearly telling her to knock it off with the twins.
“Oh, it’s on. You have no idea what you’ve started,” George whispers at her. She imagines that he’s trying to sound threatening, but she can hear the smile in his voice.
As Professor Umbridge starts rambling on about her expectations, Y/N turns to face the twins. “Bring it on, bitch.”
-
“No magic? No practical lessons? She was joking, right?” Y/N rambles as they head towards the Great Hall for dinner. They’ve all just come from a dreadful Defense Against the Dark Arts class, where Professor Umbridge had made it very clear that they’d be spending the year doing nothing but reading from their textbooks.
Daphne rolls her eyes. “Frankly I don’t see what the big deal is. She’s not wrong, our Defense Against the Dark Arts classes have been all over the place. I think it’s a good thing that we’re finally going to have some structure and unity.”
Y/N groans, looking to Adrian and Marcus for support. She frowns when they both refuse to meet her gaze. “That’s because you don’t care about doing good on your NEWTS. You don’t need an O on your exams to marry Marcus or whoever your parents have picked out for you to be with after graduation,” she spits.
Before Daphne has the chance to pick her jaw up off of the ground and respond, Y/N is turning around and heading away from her friends, needing to be alone.
-
“Are you alright?”
Y/N picks her head up from where she had buried it in her arms, surprised to see Ginny Weasley standing in front of her. She nods as she uncurls her body, stretching it out slightly. She had taken refuge on a random bench in one of the corridors and after sitting on the stone for a few hours her body has begun to ache. She moves down the bench a little and gestures for Ginny to take a seat.
While the Weasley Twins are Y/N’s least favorite people in the world, she actually doesn’t mind their siblings. She had gotten to know Percy quite well, since they had been Prefects together for a year before he had become Head Boy, and he had helped her out on quite a few transfiguration assignments during her OWL year. All she knows about Ron are the things Draco has said, but she doubts that anything that comes from his mouth is true. She’s never had a conversation with Ginny, but Daphne’s younger sister Astoria is quite friendly with her, so if she’s willing to befriend a Slytherin she’s alright in Y/N’s book.
“You seemed pretty angry earlier, before dinner. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Y/N fidgets with her school robes as her cheeks flush, she had been hoping that no one had witnessed her outburst. She had heard too often that Slytherins were mean and evil, so she always did her best to contain her emotions around others, not wanting to perpetuate the stereotype even further.
“You saw that then?” When Ginny nods she sighs. “It’s just been a frustrating few days and I love my friends, but they don’t always get it. That stupid Umbridge is really going to screw me over this year and I can’t fail now. Not when I’ve spent the last seven years working my ass off.”
“I’m really sorry, Y/N that sounds awful. There’s going to be this, thing. A meeting or whatever. Next weekend during the first Hogsmeade trip,” Ginny pauses so she can tuck a piece of parchment into her hand. “Stop by, it might be, uh helpful to you.” With a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder Ginny leaves Y/N alone.
With a heavy sigh Y/N starts to head to the common room. She uncurls the piece of paper Ginny had handed her, fearful that this might be some elaborate set up for one of her brother’s tricks.
Hogshead Inn, 12 pm, is all the paper reads in neat handwriting that Y/N doesn’t recognize. She shoves the piece of parchment into her pocket as she reaches the dungeons, trying to decide whether or not to go.
-
The rest of the week and the next pass by slowly much to Y/N’s dismay. Things between her, Marcus and Adrian returned to somewhat normal, but Daphne is still refusing to speak to her. No matter how many times Y/N apologized Daphne just kept ignoring her. The fact that the Weasley Twins were lurking behind every corner just pushed Y/N closer to the edge, so by the time Saturday arrived Y/N didn’t care if the note Ginny had slipped her the previous week was the bait for an elaborate prank. She just needed some sort of human interaction.
Due to her and Daphne’s still strained relationship and the first Slytherin Quidditch practice of the school year, Y/N is all alone as she heads to Hogsmeade. Normally she’d not even bother going if her friends didn’t accompany her, but her lack of company makes it easier for her to slip down the forgotten path that leads to the Hogshead Inn.
She looks the dim building up and down as she approaches, grimacing at its appearance. Adrian and Marcus had tried to convince her and Daphne to enter the pub with them during one of their first trips to the little village on the outskirts of Hogwarts, but the girls had overpowered them, and dragged them into Honeydukes instead.
She pauses briefly at the entrance, trying to prepare for the things that could be waiting for her on the other side. She enters through the door slowly, her eyes widening in surprise at the scene she’s met with. It certainly is not what she had expected. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger are sitting in front of the unlit fireplace, with more than a dozen chairs facing them. Some are empty, while others are taken up by students that Y/N vaguely recognizes. Ginny gives her a wave when they make eye contact, motioning for her to take a seat.
Y/N sits down in a seat towards the back and fidgets with the sleeves of her jumper. She’s relaxed slightly since she entered, this clearly wasn’t some elaborate prank set up by Fred and George, but she’s still unsure of what she just walked in to.
“What are you doing here?” Comes a voice from behind her, causing Y/N’s shoulders to tense up. She turns around only to be met with Fred and George.
“Come to spy on us, Head Girl? Want to get all of our secrets and then run off to the greaseball you call Head of House to tattle on us?” Fred sneers as he and George push past her to take the seats in front of her.
Y/N rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “Clearly I’m here for the same reasons you are, moron. If I was spying on you why would I just be sitting here out in the open?”
Truly, Y/N has no idea what she’s doing there, Ginny had been extremely vague. All she knows is that this meeting will somehow make dealing with Umbridge better, and after the awful start to term she’s had Y/N is willing to do anything at this point.
Before either Fred or George can respond, Hermione is urging everyone to take a seat so they can begin.
-
45 minutes later Y/N is standing behind Fred and George, waiting her turn to sign the paper that will make her an official member of Dumbledore’s Army. Y/N was skeptical at first about getting involved in whatever Harry and Hermione had cooked up. But as Harry talked more, about needing real, practical knowledge Y/N couldn’t help but agree. She had always been so focused on school and her future career that she never even considered what lay waiting for them outside of Hogwarts’ protective walls.
Y/N hadn’t known Cedric well. A conversation or two during Prefect duties, idle pleasantries in the hall, but that was it. But she had spent much of her summer vacation thinking about him, and about what Dumbledore had said about his death. While her friends and many of her housemates thought Dumbledore was an old crack pot, Y/N trusted and believed him. Her parents did as well, and they had talked about the first wizarding war with her over dinner on several different occasions.
As she listened to Harry talk about what he had seen and what he has already dealt with, Y/N knew that she needed to be a part of whatever he was planning. Being able to get some practice with actual defensive magic would surely help her when it came to end of the year exams, but if they truly were getting ready for another war, it may just help save her life.
As she heads back towards school, she can’t help but think about a conversation she’d had with her father not too long before the school year started again. He had reminded her that she had been placed in Slytherin house because of her ambitions in life, and her willingness to do whatever it takes to get there. Before he had kissed her goodnight he told her that it wasn’t always what you know, but who you know and that the people she surrounded herself with was just as important as focusing on her studies.
At first she had scoffed at his thinly veiled digs at her friends. Y/N has been friends with Marcus, Daphne and Adrian since first year, and she had never felt the need to expand her circle. Her parents were quite familiar with the families her friends came from, and the values they held. She knew that her parents didn’t exactly like her friends but were still supportive of Y/N and the relationship she formed with them.
But now, after seeing how badly the Daily Prophet was slandering both Dumbledore and Harry and hearing directly from Harry what he’d been through, Y/N understands what her father was saying. The Greengrass’ and Flint’s had been suspected Death Eaters all those years ago and its likely members of Adrian’s family had ties to Voldemort as well. Her father had been encouraging her to seek out new friendships to try and protect her from the Dark Arts that seemed very attractive to members of Slytherin house.
She’s so lost in thought that she doesn’t hear the Weasley Twins coming up behind her until they’re knocking into her shoulders as they pass by. She flips them off behind their backs, trying to ignore their chuckling.
“I can’t believe I just signed up to spend even more time with those twats,” she mumbles to herself as the castle comes into view. While she doesn’t mind having Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny on her side, she plans on staying as far away from the Weasley Twins as possible.
-
That night at dinner Y/N is listening to Adrian and Marcus bicker over what drills to run during their next practice when her mouth starts to tingle. Her eyes widen when she takes another sip of pumpkin juice and the sensation only gets worse. Adrian and Marcus give her a concerned look as she begins to fidget and from the corner of her eye Y/N can see that Daphne is watching as well.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Adrian asks as Y/N slaps her hands over her mouth.
Except she can’t respond. Her tongue has started to swell in her mouth so much so that it’s trying to force its way past her lips. It feels like it weighs a ton and as the pain increases she has no choice but to let it slowly seep out of her mouth.
“What’s the matter, Y/N?” she hears George shout from the Gryffindor table, causing groups of students to look over at her. She’s desperately trying to contain her growing tongue as she gets up to head to the Hospital Wing.
“Cat got your tongue?” she can hear Fred call behind her, nearly drowned out by the peeling laughter coming from the Great Hall.
-
When she gets back to the common room that night, Y/N is expecting it to be empty. But when she’s barely closed the door behind her a mess of black curls takes over her vision and arms wrap around her tightly.
“Oh, thank Merlin you’re alright. I thought you would have been back ages ago. What happened?” Daphne asks as she lets go. She leads Y/N over to a set of couches in the corner, where Adrian and Marcus are waiting for them.
Adrian pulls her down next to him and Daphne sits so close to Y/N on the other side that she’s practically in her lap. “Would you all stop fussing? I’m fine, honest,” she says with a reassuring laugh. While Y/N is fine, she can’t help but lean into Adrian’s side, feeling relieved that things are back to normal between the four of them.
“Let me guess, Weasley Twin revenge?” Marcus asks.
Y/N nods, smiling when Daphne curses them under her breath. “A creation they like to call Ton-Tongue Toffees. They must have managed to get it into my goblet or something, so it melted into my pumpkin juice. It took ages to get the swelling to go down but Madam Pomfrey managed it. I’ve just spent the last 45 minutes listening to Snape try and get the maximum punishment for them.”
Y/N knows that not many people like Snape, that it’s really only Slytherins that appreciate him. It’s no secret that he favors his house almost unfairly so, but she doesn’t really mind it when he’s advocating for them. The twins had technically poisoned her, which is something Snape had pointed out when McGonagall suggested only taking points away from the boys for a “harmless” prank. Snape had managed to negotiate on Y/N’s behalf, and the boys will now be serving a week’s detention with Snape.
“So, what are you gonna do to get back at them?” Daphne asks, causing all three of them to give her a look. “What?”
“What happened to all that crap about just ignoring them?” Marcus teases.
Daphne rolls her eyes. “To hell with all that. They want a prank war? Well then let’s show them what being a Slytherin is all about.”
-
By the time Monday morning rolls around Y/N is in such a good mood that she practically skips down the stairs to Potions. The fake Galleon Ginny had slipped her during lunch yesterday had burned red this morning, letting Y/N know that the DA’s first official meeting would be taking place this Thursday. So not only was she going to get some real defensive magic training, but after the Twin’s prank on Saturday evening her and Daphne were able to properly make up and she had her friends back.
She bites her lip as the twins fall in step beside her once again, determined not to let their presence ruin her mood.
“How’s your tongue feeling this morning?” Fred asks from her right side.
“Any bloating? Tingling? Lasting side effects?” George teases from her left side.
Y/N shakes her head and chuckles. “It’s okay boys, go ahead and make your jokes. I want you to remember how good you feel now, because once I’ve gotten you back you’ll wish you’d never messed with me.”
She can hear them both laugh as they enter the Potions class and take their respective seats. “Really? Already planning your next late-night trip into the greenhouses?” George muses.
Y/N turns in her seat so she can look each of them in the eyes. “Oh, you poor, sweet, boys,” she mocks. “When I’m done with you the dragon dung fertilizer you took to the head will seem like a shower of rose petals.” She gives them a sly wink, and turns back around, their shocked expressions still dancing around in her brain.
-
“So, you figured out what you’re going to do them, then?” Daphne asks excitedly after Y/N has finished recounting her conversation with Fred and George to her and Marcus in Herbology. Professor Sprout has tasked them with dissecting Shrivelfigs, so the three of them can talk freely. Even though her and her friends had spent most of Sunday trying to concoct the perfect revenge plan they had come up with nothing that was quite right.
“I guess you could say that.” When Marcus and Daphne give her questioning looks she giggles. “I’m not going to actually do anything to them.” When they both still look confused she rolls her eyes. “I’m just going to let them think that something big is coming. That way they’re always on edge when I’m around, always looking over their shoulders, waiting for some huge prank to befall them. It’ll drive them bonkers trying to figure out when and where it’s gonna happen.”
Marcus gives Y/N a look of appreciation. “Damn, that’s pretty brilliant, Y/N.”
Y/N bows at his praise, causing Daphne to chuckle. “What they got this morning is just a taste of what I have planned for tonight.”
-
Y/N sneaks out of the common room that night, not too long after dinner. She knows that Fred and George will be serving detention with Snape and that it’s the perfect opportunity to mess with them.
When she reaches the Potions classroom she pauses just outside the door to ensure that Snape isn’t actually still in the room with the boys. When all she can hear is the clatter of cauldrons and Fred and George’s soft voices, she decides to go for it.
“Excuse me, Professor?” Y/N asks innocently as she enters the classroom. “Oh, boys! What a treat, seeing you down in our ends this late at night.” Y/N walks further into the classroom and she can’t help but smile as the twins start to fidget.
“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Fred asks, eyeing her warily.
She puts the most innocent look on her face as she can, blinking up at the two of them. “I’m looking for Professor Snape. Is he around?”
“No, he left us alone quite a bit ago,” George responds. Y/N can tell he’s trying to hide how nervous he sounds. Fred seems like the one to never back down, so Y/N switches her tactic slightly. She starts to walk closer to George and she has to bite her lip to keep the smile off her face as he tries to subtly move away from her.
“That’s a shame. I have a question I need to ask him.” Y/N leans against the table, moving that much closer to George. “Did he say when he was going to be back?”
“He didn’t,” Fred answers, making direct eye contact with Y/N. She returns his gaze, not backing down until he looks away from her.
Feeling accomplished Y/N smacks the table with her palm and stands back up. “Well I guess I’ll leave you boys to it.” She heads towards the door. “Have fun.” With one final wink she’s out the door, laughing to herself as she goes.
-
Before Y/N knows it, Thursday has already arrived. She tries her best to contain her excitement, but as the first DA meeting approaches it’s getting harder and harder. She feels bad for not telling her friends about what she’s involved in, but she knows it’s for the better. They certainly wouldn’t approve of the unofficial club, and she doesn’t want to chance that they’ll blow the whole operation in to Umbridge.
“I’ll see you guys later,” Y/N says with a wave as she heads to leave the common room. She told the others she had some Head Girl duties to take care of so they wouldn’t try and come with her when she left.
As she heads towards the room of requirement Y/N takes the time to glance over her shoulder every once in a while to make sure no one is following her. She had been the only Slytherin in attendance at the Hogshead Inn, and she doesn’t need to be trusted even less by bringing unwanted guests with her.
When she finally enters the room of requirement it’s a bit crowded, but she can tell that not everyone has arrived yet. Ginny waves at Y/N, motioning for her to come and join her and Hermione. She’s silently thankful for her invitation so she doesn’t have to stand there by herself and goes to join the two girls.
“Hey, Ginny. Granger,” she greets them both with an awkward wave. She doesn’t know much about Hermione, again, having only heard about her from Draco. She’s had to interact with her a few times due to Hermione being a prefect, but for some odd reason she trusts Ginny, so she figures that Hermione is alright to hang out with.
“Y/N I’m really glad you decided to join. Not only is it probably helpful to have the Head Girl on our side, it’s also really nice to have some house diversity,” Hermione says with a genuine smile.
Y/N can feel her cheeks start to heat up, so she clears her throat, giving her a moment to regain her composure. “Thanks, Hermione. I never really understood it, all of the house rivalry mumbo jumbo. I’m just supposed to automatically hate you because some hat put you in one house over another? Seems silly to me.”
She hears someone scoff behind her, and she turns to see George standing behind her, his arms crossed over his chest. “What? Got a problem, Weasley?”
“That’s real big talk considering the fact that you’ve had some grudge against me and Fred since first year, Y/N,” he says, looking at her curiously.
“I don’t hate you and Fred because you’re Gryffindors,” she explains with an eye roll. “I hate you because you’re ungodly annoying.” She bites her lip, allowing herself to look him up and down. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and Y/N can’t deny that his arms look downright filthy. She had never truly looked at George, he was quieter than Fred, so he didn’t quite capture her attention like his brother had. But now that he’s standing over her, she can’t deny that he’s attractive. He is most certainly her mortal enemy, but he’s an attractive enemy at least.
“If anything, you and Fred are the ones who started our rivalry,” she continues a moment later when her eyes meet his again. “You locked me in the girl’s bathroom with Moaning Myrtle for three hours on the second day of school, remember?”
“Oh yeah,” George says with a laugh. “Forgot about that.”
Y/N rolls her eyes, turning her attention to Harry as he starts the meeting. He decides to start with something basic but effective, disarming. Y/N could disarm any witch or wizard in her sleep, but not everyone there is at the same skill level, so she’s willing to get some practice in.
They start to break up into pairs and Y/N looks around, trying to find someone, anyone to work with. Of course, George is with Fred, Ginny is already working with a Ravenclaw Y/N thinks is named Luna, and Hermione is with Ron. She ends up locking eyes with Neville Longbottom and she motions for him to come join her.
“I’ll work with you Neville.”
He gives her an appreciative smile, and as he crosses the room George nudges him. “Watch out for her Neville. You never know what she might be up to, this could all be a big ploy to take out the entire Gryffindor house.”
Y/N flips him off, giving Neville a warm smile. “Just ignore him, he’s an idiot.” They both take their stance, wands at the ready. She has heard Draco and his cronies make fun of Neville for hours on end, so she’s not really expecting much to happen.
When Neville waves his wand and shouts Expelliarmus, his own wand flies out of his hand and clatters to the floor at Y/N’s feet. His cheeks turn a bright red, and Y/N can practically feel how embarrassed he is. He looks at her expectantly, like he’s waiting for her to laugh and say something rude.
She sends him a smile and grabs his wand. “That was a really good try, Neville. The first time I tried to disarm someone I nearly blinded Professor Quirrell when my wand shot out of my hand and flew across the room,” she reassures him with a laugh. When Neville laughs too she hands him his wand back. “Here, try moving your wand like this.” She shows him the proper wand movement before she takes her place again. “Ready?”
Two hours later when Y/N is heading back towards the Slytherin common room, she feels accomplished. Neville had managed to get her wand to wiggle in her grip by the end of it, and she could tell he was proud of himself.
Y/N is thinking about all the homework she has to do tonight when someone falls into step beside her. “Alright, give it up, what’s your deal?”
She looks up at George before she examines the rest of the hallway. “Where’s your brother? I thought you two did everything together.”
“He’s down in the kitchens getting food, not that it’s any of your business,” he adds quickly. “And stop dodging the question. What’s your deal?”
She rolls her eyes and stops walking. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” George turns to face her, crossing his arms over his chest. She mirrors his stance, looking up at him.
“Don’t play stupid. You know what I’m talking about.”
Y/N sighs, rolling her eyes again. “So, what because I’m a Slytherin I can’t participate in clandestine clubs? Your sister is the one who invited me to that meeting, so go and ask her why she did it. All I did was show up. I liked what Harry said and since Umbridge isn’t doing anything to help us with NEWTS I signed up. That’s it.”
George doesn’t respond immediately, instead he studies Y/N’s face, trying to see if she’s lying. He goes to say something when someone interrupts them.
“Mr. Weasley! Ms. Y/L/N!” They both jump as Professor McGonagall comes down the hall towards them. “What are you two doing out past curfew?” Y/N and George look to each other with a worried glance, not entirely sure what to say. “Never mind the reason, you shouldn’t be out of your common rooms at this hour. I’ll have 15 points from each of your houses and I’ll see you both in detention tomorrow evening!”
Y/N gives George one last glare before she stalks all the way back to her common room.
-
“What exactly were you doing standing in a hallway with George Weasley past curfew anyway?” Daphne asks Y/N the next day at lunch.
Daphne had just finished explaining the evening she had planned out for them when Y/N informed her that she’d be stuck in detention with George for the beginning portion of their girl’s night.
Y/N shrugs, trying to act casual. “I finished up my Head Girl stuff and was going back to the common room when I saw him sneaking around. I followed him, figuring I could catch him doing something. I confronted him and McGonagall saw us and gave us detention.”
“Maybe that was his plan all along, maybe he was trying to get you in trouble,” Daphne suggests.
“Yeah but he got in trouble too, Daph,” Y/N reminds her with a laugh.
The other girl shrugs, taking a bite of her Yorkshire pudding. “I didn’t say it was a smart plan.” Marcus and Adrian arrive then, taking their respective seats next to the girls.
“Who didn’t have a smart plan?” Marcus asks as he starts to pile food on his plate.
“George Weasley,” Y/N answers, batting away Adrian’s hand as he tries to steal her roll. “I caught him sneaking around one of the hallways after curfew and McGonagall rolled up on us and gave us detention.”
“Detention? On a Friday night? What about our hot date?” Adrian teases, making another attempt at stealing her roll.
Y/N flips him off and lets him have it. “The only hot date you’re going to have tonight is your right hand.”
-
Y/N groans as she picks up another teapot to clean. Her and George have been serving their detention in complete silence for twenty minutes and her brain feels like it’s going to mush. “Is detention always this boring?” she asks, not really expecting George to respond.
“No. But mostly because I’m usually with Fred, not you,” George replies dully.
“Oh, how you wound me, George,” she responds, mocking the tone he had used with her on the first day of term.
They work together in silence for a few minutes before George puts down the teapot he had been scrubbing and tosses his rag to the side. “So, I asked Ginny,” he says, turning to look at Y/N.
Y/N gives him a look as she turns to face him as well, discarding what she had been doing. “Asked Ginny what?”
George rolls his eyes at her, clearly annoyed that Y/N had forgotten the conversation they had in the hall the previous night. “Why she told you about the meeting at the Hogshead, about Dumbledore’s Army.”
“Oh,” she responds softly. When she had said that to George last night she hadn’t expected him to actually ask, she was just trying to get him to leave her alone. “And what did she say?” George gives her a look, causing Y/N to roll her eyes. “Fine, don’t tell me. You’re the one that brought it up.”
George chuckles at her frustration. “Aw come on, I’m just kidding.” He pauses. “She said that Astoria Greengrass talks about you a ton, about how you’re different than other Slytherins. She said something about how you got into a fight with your friends, and she decided that if she talked to you and you were cool enough, she would invite you.”
“So, I’ve got the Ginny Weasley stamp of approval? I’m honored,” she says with a laugh, her surprise evident in her tone. “Does that make me alright then? Since I’m different than other Slytherins? Whatever that means.”
George shrugs his shoulders. “I think I know what she means.” When Y/N raises an eyebrow at him he continues. “Oh, come on don’t act like you don’t know it. You’re nice.”
Y/N scoffs, lightly shoving his arm. “Slytherins being mean is just a stereotype, George. Tons of the people in my house are nice. Daphne is nice, and so are Marcus and Adrian.”
“Cut the crap, Y/N,” he chides. “Daphne, Marcus and Adrian are nice to you and the other members of your house because you all share that in common. But you’re nice to, well most people honestly. Everyone even, except maybe me and Fred. But we aren’t nice to you either, so I understand it.”
Y/N opens her mouth to respond, but George puts his hand up to stop her. “Take yesterday, for example. I saw you, with Neville. The way you made him feel better about his failure, how you encouraged him and helped him improve. Daphne or Marcus or any other Slytherin wouldn’t have done that. They’d have laughed in his face and you know it.”
“I guess you’re right,” she admits softly, a slight blush on her cheeks from George’s kind words.
“So, you’re so worried about your NEWTs that you’re willing to spend hours practicing a spell you mastered in 2nd year? Thought you were top of our class?” he teases.
Y/N plays with her fingers and fidgets in her seat. She knows the question is innocent, but it feels like George can see right into her soul. That’s he looking at all her worst fears. “I am, yeah. I need at least an Exceeds Expectations on my defense against the dark arts NEWT to be a Healer and I’ve already worked so hard, I can’t screw it up now, not when I’m this close.”
George is silent for a moment and he turns in his chair so he’s fully facing Y/N. When she does the same he speaks. “I didn’t know you want to be a healer.”
Y/N rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Weasley. What is it you said? I’m not nice to you and you’re not nice to me. It’s always been that way.”
“Yeah I guess so,” he admits. “I never imagined you as a Healer, if I’m honest. But I think you’ll be amazing at it.”
Y/N blushes and looks down. “Thanks, I appreciate it. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be, since I was a little kid. I used to pretend to Heal my dolls all the time. My parents even gave me a muggle doctors coat for Christmas once, I wore it like, every day,” she reminisces with a laugh.
George laughs along with her. “I fear that I may have seriously misjudged you, Y/N.”
“What do you mean?” she asks, lightly shoving his shoulder.
George blushes and Y/N finds it endearing. “I figured you and your family were like the other pureblood Slytherin dynasties. That you cared about your grades to make you a more appealing bride or something.”
Y/N nods in understanding. “Yeah I don’t blame you on that one. That’s what most people think. My parents were raised like that and they hated it. All the stupid rules, the lack of freedom. They’re lucky, they were able to find genuine love with each other. And they’re still so in love, it’s actually pretty sickening,” she says with a laugh. “But they agreed that when they had kids they wouldn’t raise them like that. That they’d let them think for themselves, find their own way in life. It’s been so hard, not to send an owl to my dad and tell him all about Dumbledore’s Army.”
“Really? He’d approve of it?” he asks, unable to help how surprised he sounds.
“Oh yeah,” she confirms with a laugh. “He was so angry all summer, with what the Daily Prophet is saying about Harry and Dumbledore. He even not so subtly suggested that I expand my horizons, make some friendships and connections with people from other houses. I think he’d be really excited about what Harry’s doing.”
“That’s actually really cool. I guess I definitely misjudged you then.”
They both get back to work then, but Y/N doesn’t feel as awkward anymore. She’s never bothered to have an actual conversation with either of the Weasley Twins, and she is quite surprised to find that she actually really enjoyed it.
-
When Y/N and George leave the transfiguration classroom a few hours later she’s exhausted and silently thanks Merlin that she is a Witch, because cleaning the muggle way is dreadful. Despite the late hour Y/N is surprised to see that the hallway isn’t empty. Adrian and Fred are leaning up against the wall across from the transfiguration classroom a few feet apart, glaring at each other.
“What are you doing here?” Y/N asks with a soft laugh, altering both boys of their arrival.
“I wanted to make sure George was alright. You’ve been spouting about your grand revenge plan all week, I wanted to make sure you didn’t try and pull anything while you two were alone,” Fred answers, finally looking away from Adrian so he can glare at Y/N.
Y/N rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t talking to you, Weasley. I don’t care why you’re here.” When Fred flips her off she returns the gesture.
“To answer your question,” Adrian starts as he walks towards her. “I came to accompany you back to the common room. A gentleman never lets a lady walk alone at night.”
“Well then where’s this gentleman?” she teases, looking around the hallway.
Before Adrian can respond Fred laughs. “Yeah, I don’t see a lady either.” George’s laughter joins his brothers and Y/N flips them off again.
When Adrian starts to move closer to Fred, Y/N grabs his arm and pulls him into her chest. “Not here, Adrian,” she whispers. “McGonagall is right in there,” she reminds him, gesturing towards the open classroom door with her head.
“You are so lucky, weasel,” Adrian practically growls at him. Y/N wraps her arms around Adrian’s waist and starts to pull him down the hall away from Fred and George. Adrian glares at them one last time before he turns forward and wraps his arm around her shoulder. “You should have let me hit him. One good hit would have been worth a month’s detention.”
“Not this close to quidditch season it’s not. Smack a few good bludgers at him instead,” Y/N pauses and she looks up at Adrian with her best puppy dog eyes. “Piggyback ride? Please?”
Adrian sighs heavily but crouches down in front of Y/N, nonetheless. She squeals in delight, climbing onto her friend’s back. Adrian grips her thighs tightly as he stands. “Ready?” Once he feels Y/N nod he sets off towards the common room. “You’re lucky I love you, brat.”
-
When Fred and George slide into their seats behind Y/N in Potions on Monday morning they don’t say a word. When she saw them enter the room she had tensed up, just waiting for whatever snarky comment they were bound to make. So, when they take their seats without a word, Y/N can’t help but turn around to look at them.
“What’s wrong with you two?” When neither of them responds, Y/N waves her hand in front of their faces. “Hello? Earth to Nitwit 1 and Nitwit 2.” She expected her insult to get them to at least look at her, but both of their focus is on the blackboard in the front of the room. She huffs in annoyance. “Whatever be pricks. I don’t care.” She turns back around and crosses her arms, trying to convince herself that she in fact doesn’t care that they’re ignoring her.
-
“Will you stop staring at them? It’s weird,” Marcus scolds Y/N that night at dinner, kicking her shin under the table to get her attention.
Y/N kicks him back, finally tearing her attention away from Fred and George. “They’re planning something,” she insists.
Daphne rolls her eyes and throws a carrot at Y/N. “First you complain that they’re always loud and bothering you and now you’re complaining that they aren’t bothering you. Will you just give it a rest? Be thankful that they’ve finally decided to leave you alone.”
Y/N sticks her tongue out at Daphne before she takes a bite out of the carrot she had thrown at her. She knows Daphne is right, but she can’t help but be bothered that Fred and George aren’t even trying to annoy her. As much as she hates to admit it, she misses their antics. Y/N had really enjoyed George’s company during their detention and part of her had hoped that maybe their newfound acquaintanceship would have carried over once they were no longer the only people in the room.
So, she had found herself quite disappointed that he hadn’t said a word to her all day. He hadn’t even looked at her. Y/N thought she had felt his gaze on her during Charms, but when she turned around to check he was focused on Flitwick.
“Daph is right,” Adrian whispers in her ear, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “They’re finally leaving you alone, you should be happy.”
Y/N shrugs her shoulders, her gaze falling upon Fred and George once again. “I am happy,” she lies. “I just know them too well. They’re planning something big. They’re trying to throw me off.” She flips her friends off when they all groan.
“What makes you think they’re planning something?” Marcus asks. “Did something happen between you and George during detention? You didn’t say too much about it.”
Y/N bites her lip. She hadn’t said much to her friends about her detention when her and Adrian arrived back in the common room that night, just that it was mind numbingly boring. She didn’t want them to know that she had not only had a conversation with George Weasley, but she had actually enjoyed it.
“No, nothing happened. We sat there cleaning teapots for hours, McGonagall came back and she let us go,” she says with a shrug, trying to seem casual. “He didn’t even say two words to me.”
“Exactly, so chill out. Enjoy the peace,” Daphne says.
When Y/N finally collapses in her bed that night she can’t seem to fall asleep despite how tired she is. She tosses and turns, her mind wandering to George and why she’s so bothered by the sudden lack of attention she’s getting from him. Her stomach lurches, realization hitting her like a ton of bricks.
I have a crush on George Weasley.
-
Y/N spends the rest of the week avoiding both Weasley Twins. She sits as far away from them as possible, refuses to look at them and even goes as far as to hide in an empty classroom when she sees them heading towards her one afternoon. Y/N is determined to extinguish whatever positive feelings she has towards George. She’s spent the past seven years hating his guts, and she is not about to let herself reverse all of that over some stupid crush. Unfortunately for Y/N, on Saturday morning her fake Galleon burns red, letting her know that there will be another DA meeting that night.
Which is why she’s currently heading towards the Room of Requirement, her stomach a pit of dread and despair. “Get it together, Y/N,” she mutters to herself. Y/N is standing just outside the room of requirement and she takes a deep breath to calm herself down.
Y/N pulls the door open and goes to head in, but she runs smack into the chest of someone trying to leave. An involuntary squeal leaves her lips as her body tenses up, preparing itself to hit the ground. Except she doesn’t even fall. A pair of strong arms wrap around her waist and she’s pulled into the other person’s chest.
“Woah there. Watch where you’re going.”
Y/N doesn’t have to look up to know that George Weasley is holding her in his arms. She can feel her cheeks heat up and she pushes away from him, needing to get away from him as fast as possible. “I could say the same to you, Weasley,” she sneers.
Even though her tone is crude Y/N can feel her heart fluttering in her chest and her skin is tingling from his touch. She looks up at his face, letting her eyes linger on his lips for just a second. She tries not to think about what it would feel like for him to grip her waist as they kissed.
“No need to be so feisty, Y/N,” George teases, snapping Y/N out of her thoughts.
She rolls her eyes and steps aside so George can leave, Fred following close behind him. “Maybe if you weren’t trying to mow me down I wouldn’t need to be,” she responds, watching as Fred flips her off behind his back.
She watches them walk away for a moment before heading into the room of requirement. Her palms are sweaty even from that small interaction with George and Y/N tries to subtly wipe them off on her skirt as she joins Ginny, Hermione and Ron in the back of the room.
“Where are they off to?” she asks after they’ve been talking for a few minutes, not wanting to seem too interested in George’s movements.
“Filch has been sniffing around for Umbridge, she knows Harry is up to something. So, Fred and George are going to slip him something that’ll put him out of commission for few hours,” Hermione explains.
Y/N nods. Hermione had made a few complaints to both Y/N and Miles, a Ravenclaw in her year that was Head Boy, that Fred and George had been spending their free time making an array of joke products and then testing them out on first years. “Despite the fact that I have been the victim of a Weasley product, I can’t say I feel bad for Filch.”
Once Fred and George slip back into the room of requirement and give Harry a thumbs up, he starts the meeting. They’re going to continue working on disarming, and Y/N immediately searches for Neville in the crowd. Neville certainly isn’t the most talented wizard, but Y/N can tell that he’s full of determination and she likes working with him. When Harry sets them off to work Neville joins her.
“You better watch out, Y/N, I’ve been practicing,” Neville says with a laugh as they take their stances.
“Alright then, Longbottom, let’s see what you’ve got.”
-
When Y/N leaves the Room of Requirement later that night, she can still hear Neville chattering to his friends happily as they head back to Gryffindor tower. It had taken him most of the meeting, but Neville had finally managed to get her wand to fly out of her hand. She was extremely happy for him as the other members of the DA came around to congratulate him, and not just because George had pressed up against her back as he patted Neville on the shoulder.
“Sneaking away without saying Goodbye, Y/N? I’m hurt,” George scolds teasingly as he comes up behind her.
She rolls her eyes, trying to contain her excitement. “Oh, so you’re speaking to me again?” she says as he falls into step next to her. He’s standing so close that their arms almost brush, and Y/N swallows down the butterflies that come up her throat.
“Aw, did little Y/N miss me?” George teases, shoving her shoulder.
“No,” Y/N responds far too quickly, trying not to get flustered from the contact. “Just surprised that you managed to go a whole week without annoying me that’s all.”
“Uh huh. Sure, whatever you say.”
She bites her lip, trying to contain her glee. Cut it out, she scolds herself. George Weasley is nothing more than an annoying git, you do not like him.
“Why are you following me, anyway? Last I checked Gryffindor’s common room is in the other direction,” she questions as they head down towards the Great Hall.
Y/N watches George shrug out of the corner of her eye. His face is blank, but Y/N can tell that he’s nervous. “Making sure you’re not getting up to anything is all.”
“Or you’re distracting me while your brother sets up some kind of trap,” she responds.
Suddenly she feels George’s hand wrap around her wrist and he’s pulling her into a nearby broom closet. As he slams the door shut behind them Y/N can’t help but notice just how close they are. Her back is pressed up against the wall and George is standing only a few inches away, his hands on either side of her head.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/N demands, hoping that her voice doesn’t shake. George is towering over her, and Y/N can see the muscles on his forearms bulging in her peripheral vision. It is taking every ounce of willpower in her body to stay still.
George leans down as he chuckles and his warm breath tickles Y/N’s cheeks, causing a shiver to run down her spine. “I think what you mean to say is thank you because I just saved your ass from serving another detention with McGonagall.”
Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “McGonagall? I didn’t see-.“ Y/N’s sentence is cut short as George places his hand over her mouth to silence her. Her breathing involuntarily speeds up and she hopes that George can’t feel the blush on her cheeks. Y/N can hear footsteps approaching the broom closet and she closes her eyes in fear of being caught in such a compromising position with George.
Thankfully the footsteps disappear just as quicky as they had come and Y/N sighs in relief when George takes his hand away. “Thank you,” she mutters. Y/N can still feel the imprint of his hand on her mouth and it makes her stomach feel queasy.
“You’re welcome,” George says, sounding pleased with himself. “We should probably stay here for a moment or two longer, just to make sure she’s gone.”
Y/N nods, her head tilting back so she can look at George’s face. She examines his features closely, trying to commit them to memory. After her realization earlier in the week she had spent every moment trying not to think about George, but now that they’re standing there so close he’s the only thing she can think about.
George clears his throat suddenly, breaking Y/N from her thoughts. “We’re uh, we’re probably good to go.”
“Yeah,” she agrees softly, trying not to let the disappointment she feels seep into her voice.
George lingers a moment longer, before he pulls away and slowly opens the door to their hiding spot. Y/N watches as he checks the hallway and follows him out when the coast is clear.
“Well um. Thanks for that,” she stutters, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’ll see you around, I guess.” Y/N starts to walk away, but she pauses when George follows behind her. She turns to look at him. “What are you doing?”
“You might still be up to something. I should follow you, just to make sure,” he responds confidently.
Y/N rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anymore, not wanting her giddiness to become noticeable. They walk side by side silently with Y/N glancing at George every few steps. As they reach the landing Y/N goes to turn down the corridor that will lead her down into the dungeons when she runs smack into someone for the second time that night. Except this time, it’s much less enjoyable.
“Professor Umbridge! I am so sorry,” Y/N apologizes as she fixes her balance. She may hate the woman, but she’ll be nice to her if it’ll get her out of a detention.
“Oh Ms. Y/L/N it is quite alright,” she practically squeaks while smiling at Y/N. Y/N imagines it’s meant to seem sweet, but it looks more like an evil grin. Umbridge’s eyes suddenly narrow as she looks past Y/N at George. “Mr. Weasley! Out in the corridors past curfew again I see. That’ll be detention with me, Monday and Tuesday evening.”
Y/N can hear George sputter behind her, and she turns around, cringing at the angry look on his face. “What about Y/N?” he asks angrily. “She’s out past curfew as well!”
Umbridge tuts, moving past Y/N as she heads back towards her office. “Yes, but Ms. Y/L/N is Head Girl I’m sure she has a good reason for being out in the halls.” Umbridge puts her hand up to stop George from responding. “Now that is enough out of you, Mr. Weasley. I suggest you head back to your common room before I make your detention a whole week.”
They both watch as Umbridge walks away and when Y/N turns to look at George, he’s already watching her. “I’m really sorry about that, George,” she says quietly.
George scoffs. “Yeah whatever.” He stalks off then, and it takes everything in Y/N to not follow behind him.
-
As Y/N enters the common room her plan is to stalk off to her dorm and get in bed as quick as possible. She’s gone through a whirlwind of emotions over the past few hours and all she wants to do is fall asleep, so she doesn’t have to feel any of them. All of that changes however, since when Y/N finally steps into the common room there is music blaring and people are everywhere.
Y/N makes eye contact with Adrian across the crowd and he clumsily waves her over. She slowly makes her way through the crowd. The air is heavy and hot from all of the people and it smells of firewhiskey. When she finally reaches Adrian, he stumbles over his own feet as he pulls her closer and she notices Marcus is seated on the couch with Daphne sprawled out across his lap; all of her friends are clearly very, very drunk.
“Y/N! You made it!” Daphne yells happily when she notices Y/N’s arrival. She wobbles as she gets out of Marcus’ lap and practically falls into Y/N, giving her a tight hug.
“Someone’s having a good time,” Y/N says with a laugh. Drunk Daphne is one of Y/N’s favorite things, and it’s rare that she gets to see it. Daphne is always prim and proper. She never has a hair out of place and she rarely lets herself goof off with her friends; she’s always their voice of reason. So, when she lets loose, she really goes for it, and it always leaves Y/N in hysterics.
“Where’ve you been? Party started ages ago,” Marcus says slowly, his words slurring together. He grabs Daphne’s hands and tries to pull her into his lap, but they’re both so drunk that they end up falling over, and Daphne somehow ends up on the ground with Marcus on top of her.
Y/N and Adrian burst out in laughter, with Adrian leaning on Y/N for support. His drink sloshes in his hand, and Y/N takes it from him to avoid it spilling everywhere. She eyes his glass warily, trying to decide if she wants to join her friends in drunk land. Her plan had been to sleep away her emotions but drinking them away will work just as well.
“I guess I have some catching up to do then.” Y/N downs the entire glass in one go, her warm bed long forgotten.
A few hours and far too many glasses of Firewhiskey later the party has died down and Y/N is slumped over in the corner of the common room, cradled in a large pile of pillows that Adrian had assembled for her. Daphne and Marcus had disappeared several minutes ago, probably to make out somewhere and once they had Adrian moved from the nearby couch to join Y/N. He’s laying on his back, head in Y/N’s lap as he listens to her complain about George Weasley.
“He’s just so annoying,” she drawls, her words coming out fairly jumbled. Y/N has said the same sentence at least five times in the past 10 minutes, but she’s too drunk to remember or care. She’s been rambling on about George and every mildly annoying this he’s done since the moment they’ve met and she’s having a hard time remembering what she’s already mentioned. “And his face, don’t even get me started on his face.”
When Adrian groans she smacks him on the forehead. “Can’t you talk about something else,” he murmurs. “Anything else, please.”
Y/N smacks him on the forehead again before starting to run her fingers through his hair. It’s his only weakness and she’s hoping it’ll keep him quiet. “There is nothing else to talk about,” she says, her tone condescending. “It’s empty up here, no thoughts,” she giggles, hitting herself lightly in the head with her free hand. “No thoughts, just George Weasley and his face. His pretty, pretty face. And oh god his lips. They look so damn soft. D’you think their soft?”
Adrian hums, not really paying attention to the words coming out of Y/N’s mouth. She’d started to lightly scratch his scalp as she talked, and any ability he had to comprehend the English language disappeared. “Yeah sure, whatever.”
Y/N sighs dreamily, thinking about what it would be like to kiss George. “Bet he’s really good at it,” she muses. “And his hands,” she adds a moment later, practically moaning. “They’re so big and strong. He’s got good fingers too. Bet he knows how to use them.” Y/N rubs her thighs together involuntarily as she feels herself starting to get turned on. Y/N’s eyes start to close as the copious amount of alcohol she drank starts to catch up with her. “You wanna know something funny? I don’t hate George Weasley anymore.”
“Is that so?” Adrian mumbles, starting to drift off as well.
“Mhm,” she hums. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.”
-
The next morning Y/N is awake far earlier than she’d like to be. Adrian’s elbow was digging into her back, and she tried to ignore it for as long as possible, but eventually she just gave up and pulled herself off of the floor.
Her head is pounding, she feels groggy and she desperately wants to crawl into her bed. But her stomach grumbles loudly and so instead of dragging her body down the staircase that would lead to her dorm, she drags herself towards the portrait hole, still in the clothes she had on yesterday.
When Y/N finally makes it to the Great Hall she practically crawls over to the Slytherin table and plops down in the first open seat. Thankfully it’s still early, so not many people are around and it’s fairly quiet. She starts to grab random food, not really caring what it is. She’s cursing herself for challenging Adrian to a drinking contest as she goes to grab the pitcher of orange juice, but a large hand beats her to it.
“George?” she asks in surprise when she looks up.
He doesn’t say anything as he fills her goblet up for her. He takes a seat across from her and fills his own goblet before he starts to pile eggs on his plate. “Yes?” he answers casually, as if he eats breakfast with Y/N every morning.
“What are you doing here?” Y/N watches George as he begins to eat, her eyes searching his face for some kind of hint of what he’s up to. George shrugs as a light laugh tumbles from his mouth.
“Eating breakfast?” he asks, gesturing to his plate like it’s obvious. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
Y/N rolls her eyes playfully, watching as he grabs an apple. She watches as his fingers wrap around it and she practically drools. A tingle runs down her spine as she imagines his fingers wrapping around something else.
“Obviously I can see that you’re eating,” she says a moment later when her thoughts become PG. “I meant what are you doing sitting here. With me. At the Slytherin table.”
George smirks at her. “Why? Do I make you nervous?” His lips wrap around the apple as he takes a bite, and Y/N has to take a bite of her muffin to stop herself from moaning right there in the middle of the Great Hall.
George’s hair is ruffled from sleep, and he looks cozy in the homemade jumper he’s wearing. His eyes are soft, and his lips look even softer. Y/N is dreaming about what it would feel like to lean across the table and kiss him, when she realizes that he asked her a question.
“Not at all,” she says, her voice shaking. “It just isn’t like you, that’s all. Besides last night when you left it seemed like you were angry at me,” she trails off, her voice soft. She looks down at her plate to avoid his gaze.
“I’m sorry about that, Y/N,” George admits sheepishly. Y/N’s skin tingles when he nudges her leg with his foot under the table. She looks up to meet his gaze, instantly returning his warm smile. “It’s not your fault Umbridge is a toad.”
Y/N laughs, completely entranced by George. “I should have said something. Made up an excuse for you.” She worries her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, waving away her apology. They both just look at each other, the food on their plates long forgotten. Y/N lets her gaze wander to George’s lips again as she thinks about kissing him. She starts to involuntarily inch closer and to her surprise, George starts doing the same thing.
“Uh, Y/N?”
Y/N and George jump apart, startled by the sudden intrusion. Y/N looks over to see Astoria standing next to her, clearly surprised by what she had just witnessed. Y/N feels her cheeks heating up, and she fidgets in her seat.
“Hey, Astoria. What’s up?” Y/N asks, trying to sound casual, like her best friend’s little sister didn’t just catch her about to kiss George in the middle of the Great Hall.
“Daphne is asking for you. She’s throwing up in the dorm bathroom.”
Y/N rolls her eyes with a huff. “Of course, she is, poor girl can’t handle her alcohol.” She stands suddenly, nodding awkwardly at George. “Weasley,” she says curtly. She gives a wayward glance to Astoria before she heads for the exit, trying to walk as quickly as possible without looking like she’s running away.
-
“And you don’t remember anything?” Y/N questions Adrian as they head up to breakfast on Monday morning. After she fled the Great Hall yesterday morning she’d spent the rest of the day with Daphne going between the bathroom in their dorm and her bed, with Astoria sneaking in food for them. As she sat holding Daphne’s hair back Y/N had a chance to replay the events of Saturday night, and all of the things she had said to Adrian about George became clear to her. She was panicking all night, hoping that he didn’t remember any of what she had said.
Adrian nods. “Not a thing. Last thing I remember is you challenging me to a drinking contest. Everything after that is completely blank. Probably due to the 10 shots we took,” he says with a laugh. “I was so confused when I woke up in the common room.”
Y/N breathes a sigh of relief. She’s barely come to terms with the fact that George Weasley is no longer her mortal enemy, but someone she truly cares deeply for, so she is definitely not ready to share that with her friends.
“Why do you care so much? You confess your love for me or something?” Adrian asks as they enter the Great Hall.
Y/N lets her eyes scan the Gryffindor table, a pink blush forming on her cheeks when she spots George. He looks prim and proper in his school robes and his hair is neat. She bites her lip, imagining what it would be like to fuss up his hair with her hands with their bodies pressed together so tightly that their uniforms wrinkled. When George suddenly makes eye contact with her she looks away, bringing her attention back to Adrian.
“Nothing like that,” she insists, shoving him playfully. “I was just rambling on and on. I sounded like an idiot, most of it didn’t even make sense.”
“What didn’t make sense?” Daphne asks as Y/N and Adrian sit across from her and Marcus.
“The things I rambled on about in Adrian’s ear on Saturday after you two disappeared,” Y/N says with a laugh. She reaches for the orange juice, a small smile appearing on her lips as it reminds her of George.
“Aw you were rambley drunk? How cute. I’m sad I missed it,” Marcus teases.
Y/N throws a grape at him. “If you weren’t so busy sucking face with Daphne, you could have witnessed it.” Marcus and Daphne both blush at that, causing Adrian and Y/N to laugh. “I don’t know why you’re laughing, Pucey. You were cuddly drunk. I ran my hand through your hair, and you were practically mewling.”
Adrian blushes and bats at Y/N’s hand as she pinches his cheek. “Thank god I don’t remember that then.”
-
Unlike last week, Y/N spends most of her time on Monday and Tuesday trying to get close to George. She heads to meals a tad earlier than her friends, hoping that he’ll join her briefly. She gets to class early, hoping that he may arrive on his own and they can talk. But every time she tries she either doesn’t happen to run into him or he’s too busy messing around with Fred to notice her presence.
“Oof. Sorry,” Y/N grunts as she runs into someone. One of the Ravenclaw Prefects is sick, so Y/N volunteered to spend most of her Tuesday night patrolling the halls of the castle. Patrolling was one of her favorite duties as a Prefect, since it gave her time to just be by herself and think. She had let her mind wander to George, and she was in the middle of quite the raunchy daydream.
“What are you doing? Trying to mow me down?” the person asks with a chuckle.
“George, hey,” she greets airily. Y/N takes a step back so she can look up at him, a dopey smile on her face. “What are you doing out here? Kinda late, innit?”
“Maybe I’m here to see you,” he responds, causing Y/N to look away and blush. “I was serving my detention with Umbridge,” he reminds her, gesturing towards the corridor he had just come down.
She glances at her watch before looking back to him. “And she just let you out now? What did she have you do, polish all those weird cat plates?”
George chuckles. “Writing lines, actually.”
“Must have been enough to fill a book with how late it is,” she jokes as they start to walk together. George fidgets beside her, and she gives him a look. “You alright?”
George hums and absentmindedly brings a hand up to run through his hair. Y/N’s eyes widen when she notices the back of his hand is bleeding, and she grabs it before he has a chance to hide it. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he mumbles, trying to pull his hand away.
Y/N tightens her grip, too focused on his injury to think about how perfect his hand feels in hers. “What is this, George? How did this happen?”
George sighs. “Umbridge had me use her special quill to write my lines.”
Y/N ghosts her finger over the wound, giving George an apologetic look when he winces. As she examines the wound she can make out what is it, the wound in his hand spells out ‘I must not break the rules’ in his messy handwriting. A sudden wave of rage washes over Y/N and she releases George’s hand so she can stomp towards Umbridge’s office.
“Y/N what are you doing?” George asks as he follows, though he’s pretty sure he knows that answer.
“I’m going to go give that toad a piece of my mind. That’s how she punishes people. Torture? That’s mental.”
George catches up to her quickly, and he wraps his fingers around her wrist, pulling her into his chest. He wraps his arms around her shoulders, holding her tightly against him. She breathes in his scent, wanting to just melt into his embrace. But she resists the urge and struggles against it, desperately trying to get out.
“Let me go, George,” she grumbles, wiggling in his grip.
“Absolutely not, Y/N. What good is yelling at her going to do? All that’s going to do is get you in detention as well and I’m not going to let you do that to yourself.”
Y/N wiggles against his grip for a few more moments before she gives up, her anger deflating. She relaxes in George’s arms and buries her face in his chest. She feels lightheaded as she takes slow, deep breaths, enjoying being this close to George. They stand like that for a few minutes, just enjoying being in each other’s presence, only breaking apart when they hear the door to Umbridge’s office open.
“Shit,” George whispers. He releases Y/N from his grip so he can grab her hand, intertwining their fingers. “Quick, follow me.” George leads them down the hallway and through a few different corridors before he stops in front of a tapestry.
“What are you doing?” she asks as the sound of footsteps echoes through the empty space.
George shushes her, and Y/N watches in amazement as he taps his wand to the tapestry, and it swings to the side, revealing a hole in the wall.
“Woah, this is so cool,” she comments as George pulls her in behind him. The tapestry immediately closes behind them, and George waves his wand so the torches that line the walls light up. “How do you know about this place?”
George shrugs, leaning up against the wall. “Fred and I have explored the entire castle. There isn’t a secret passageway or hidden corridor that we haven’t found.”
They stand there in silence while Y/N looks around the small passageway. She can feel George’s eyes on her and she’s doing everything she can to not return his gaze. Her body feels like it’s on fire, the feeling of George’s grip on her shoulders still fresh in her mind.
“You know if you want to spend time alone with me all you have to do is ask,” she teases a moment later, finally looking at George. She’s leaning on the wall opposite him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She starts to fiddle with a stray string on the bottom hem of her skirt, needing to keep her hands busy to avoid wrapping them around George’s tie to pull him close. “You don’t have to keep pulling me into dark rooms.”
George looks Y/N up and down, a smirk forming on his face. “Is that so? After you practically ran away from me at breakfast on Sunday I didn’t think you’d want to be alone with me.” He sounds confident, but Y/N can tell that there’s an underlying tinge of insecurity in his voice.
Y/N frowns and pushes away from the wall so she can take a small step towards him. “I tried to catch you alone all day yesterday and today,” she says softly. “But every time I tried you were with your stupid brother.”
“Well every time I tried to catch you alone you were with your stupid friends,” he says with a chuckle, copying her frustrated tone. George takes a small step towards her, so there’s only a few feet between them.
“I’m sorry, by the way. For running away from you the other day. Astoria startled me and I panicked,” she pauses, taking another small step forward. They’re standing so close that Y/N can smell him, and her brain goes fuzzy. “I should have stayed,” she admits quietly.
George licks his lips as he takes a final small step forward. They’re now only a few centimeters apart, and he grips Y/N’s hip softly. “What would have happened?” His eyes flick down to Y/N’s lips before meeting hers again. “If you had stayed, what would have happened?”
Y/N can feel her heart pounding in her chest, and her face is warm. “I. I would have.”
But she doesn’t get to finish her sentence. George leans down and presses their lips together, kissing her sweetly as his other hand comes up to rest on her neck. Y/N feels lightheaded as her lips start to move with George’s, her arms winding around his neck. George backs them up as he deepens the kiss, pressing Y/N up against the wall. She moans as her back hits the hard stone, allowing George to lick into her mouth.
“I would have done that,” she finishes once George pulls away, her breathing heavy.
George chuckles before kissing her again briefly. “You sound so fucking hot when you moan,” he teases, kissing her again as her cheeks flush pink.
Y/N returns his kiss eagerly, letting her fingers tangle in the hair at the base of his neck as both his hands come to rest on her hips. Her brain is in overdrive, trying to process everything that’s happening. She wants to commit it all to memory, in case this is the only time it happens. She’s thinking about how good of a kisser he is, and how perfectly their mouths fit together when George pulls away.
“Bet you would sound even hotter moaning my name,” he whispers in her ear, before he starts to trail kisses down Y/N’s neck.
A soft whine leaves Y/N’s lips as she tilts her head back, giving George more room to kiss. She tugs his hair and the groan he lets out against her neck goes right to her core and arousal starts to blossom in her stomach. His grip on her hips tightens as he begins to suck a mark into her neck. “George,” she moans, her eyes fluttering closed.
Y/N can feel George smirk into her neck before he pulls away and reconnects their lips. He pushes their bodies together tighter, shoving her legs apart with one of his own. She instinctively grinds down against it to get relief from her aching pussy, causing both of them to moan lowly.
“Holy fuck, Y/N,” George growls as he breaks their kiss. He looks over her as she continues to grind against his thigh, in awe of how beautiful she is. Her face is flushed red, her lips are swollen from his kisses and breathy moans are falling from her mouth as her hips move back and forth.
Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth to try and contain the noises that are creeping up her throat as she works towards her climax. Her hips move sloppily, giving her clit the perfect amount of friction against George’s muscular thigh. “Fuck,” she breathes and opens her eyes so she can gaze into his, a moan falling from her lips when she sees how dark his eyes are.
George kisses her for a brief moment, his cock starting to harden in his trousers. He craves the feeling of her lips, but the noises coming from her mouth are too intoxicating to cut off. “You look so pretty, darling, getting yourself off on my thigh.”
George’s words only turn Y/N on more and she starts to move her hips faster, desperate for her release. “George,” she moans, tugging on his hair again. “Please, please, George,” she begs.
George presses kisses to Y/N’s jaw as his grip on her hips tightens. He pulls her down harder against his thigh and smirks when she whines loudly. “What do you want darling? Hm?”
“I’m so close,” she gasps. “Please, George. Can I,” her words turn into a moan as George forces her down harder against this thigh again. Y/N can feel her climax approaching and her body feels like it’s on fire. “Please, let me come, George. Please,” she begs breathily.
George’s cock twitches in his trousers and he groans as he realizes what Y/N is begging him for. Permission. “Go on darling, come for me.”
George’s voice is husky, and as soon as the words leave his mouth Y/N’s hips stutter as she reaches her climax, George’s name falling from her mouth. She tugs his hair lightly as she comes, pleasure washing over her like a wave. George rubs her hips and presses open mouthed kisses to her jaw and neck as her hips start to slow down.
“Oh my god,” Y/N pants, resting her forehead against George’s shoulder. Her legs feel like jelly and a moan falls from her mouth when she shifts on George’s thigh and her sensitive clit rubs against her panties.
George laughs lightly and brings a hand up to stroke Y/N’s hair. “That was so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her temple. He removes his leg from between hers but keeps a tight grip on her hip to make sure she’s steady. “Like really fucking hot, Y/N. Holy shit.”
Y/N buries her face in George’s neck, pressing a few light kisses to his skin. “No, it was embarrassing,” she mumbles. She’d never felt the need to ask for permission to come with any of the other people she’d been intimate with, but there was something about George. Y/N felt comfortable with him, she felt safe enough to let her walls down; to be completely vulnerable to him.
“Hey, look at me,” he says softly. George waits for Y/N to pick her head up and look up at him before he continues. “You will never have anything to be embarrassed about with me. Ever.”
Instead of responding, Y/N kisses him desperately and reaches down to palm his hardening erection through his trousers. George groans into the kiss, his hips automatically rolling to meet her movements. Her lips start to kiss across his jaw and down George’s neck, nibbling lightly.
Y/N pauses her kissing so she can lean up and whisper into George’s ear. “Your turn,” she teases. George curses softly as she removes her hand from his crotch, and she places a quick kiss on his lips before she pushes him away slightly. Y/N slowly sinks down to her knees and starts to work at the button of George’s trousers.
“God you are gorgeous,” he says dreamily as he tangles his fingers in her hair.
Y/N can feel the blush creeping up her face as she undoes George’s trousers. She looks up at him as she pulls his trousers and boxers down together just enough to free his cock. Y/N slowly wraps her hand around the base of his cock, a smirk forming on her face when he groans.
George’s grip on her hair tightens as Y/N begins to slowly stroke him. “Merlin that feels good,” George moans, causing Y/N to increase her pace.
She leans forward and takes him into her mouth, her hand continuing to stroke what she can’t fit in her mouth. George is quite well endowed, and Y/N rubs her thighs together as she starts to bob her head, imaging what he’d feel like inside her.
“Such a good girl. Sucking my cock so well,” George praises. His breathing starts to get heavier as Y/N’s tongue starts to swirl around his sensitive head and when she looks up at him he has to look away to avoid coming right then and there. Y/N looks absolutely sinful with her lips wrapped around his cock, and George is sure that image will be imprinted in his brain forever.
George’s grunts echo throughout the passageway as Y/N starts to move faster, wanting George to fill her mouth with his release. She takes him down even further, gagging slightly when the tip of his cock hits the back of her throat. George uses the grip he has on Y/N’s hair to help guide her head, his hips starting to slowly meet her movement.
Y/N hums in approval and pulls her head off of his cock for a moment to catch her breath. She strokes him with her hand for a moment, her thumb circling his sensitive head. “Fuck my mouth George, please,” she begs, before swallowing him down again.
“Such a dirty girl aren’t you Y/N?” he teases as he wraps his hand in her hair, gripping it tightly. “Such a slut for my cock already, hm?” He lets out a groan as he starts to move her head on his cock, his hips meeting each stroke. “Fuck, darling. Your mouth feels amazing,” he moans, starting to fuck her mouth faster. “Good girl,” he praises as she gags around him.
Y/N can’t help but slip her hand under her skirt and into her panties, letting her index and middle finger toy with her clit. George’s cock is heavy against her tongue and his dirty words are sending shivers down her spine and into her core. She’s still sensitive from her previous orgasm, and she moans around George’s cock as drool drips down her chin. She starts to work her clit faster, her second orgasm quickly approaching.
“Getting close, darling,” he grunts. “Gonna shoot my load right into your pretty little mouth.” George watches as Y/N squirms, a wicked grin forming on his mouth. “Are you touching yourself darling?” A shiver runs down his spine and he slams his cock into the back of her throat harder when she hums around him. “Such a dirty little girl you are, Y/N.” His tone is patronizing, and it only turns Y/N on more. “Love having my cock in your mouth that much, hm?”
Y/N whines around his cock, her hips moving in time with her finger’s movements on her clit. She brings her free hand up under her shirt and bra so she can massage her breast, her fingers pinching her nipple. Her climax is building rapidly, and Y/N looks up at George her eyes full of arousal and desperation.
George bites his lip as he looks down at Y/N, knowing exactly what she needs. His strokes become shallow as his own orgasm approaches, a low moan falling from his lips. “Go on, darling. Be a good girl and come for me.”
Y/N’s whole-body shakes as she comes, her second orgasm even stronger than the first. Her lips clamp down around George’ cock even tighter, bringing him to his climax as well. He pulls her hair as he empties himself into Y/N’s mouth, her name spilling from his mouth in hard pants. She continues to toy with her clit lightly as aftershocks of pleasure continue to roll through her body.
George loosens his grip on her hair as he slowly pulls out, his mouth running dry as saliva and some of his cum dribble down Y/N’s chin. He watches as she swallows his release, his cock twitching at the sight. He tucks his cock back into his trousers, wincing as the head brushes up against the fabric. Y/N looks up at him as she wipes the drool from her chin, looking far too innocent after what just happened. Her lips are red and swollen, almost begging for him to kiss her.
He releases her hair and helps Y/N to her feet. His arms wrap around her waist and he brings their lips together. They kiss slowly and messily, both of them too tired to care. George licks into her mouth, not caring that he can taste himself on her tongue. They stand there kissing for a few minutes, only breaking apart when the need for air becomes too much.
“You think the coast is clear?” Y/N asks with a giggle, her voice hoarse.
George chuckles and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I certainly hope so, because I’m absolutely knackered and if I have to spend another minute in here with you after what just happened I’m not going to be able to control myself.”
-
Wednesday morning arrives far too quickly for Y/N’s liking. She had fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, but when Daphne starts to shake her awake it feels like she hadn’t even slept at all.
“Five more minutes, mum, “ she groans. Her throat feels raw and Y/N can’t help but blush as the memories of last night run through her mind. She had wanted to confess everything to George as they snuck out of the passageway, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. As they stepped out into the empty hallway the haze of sexual tension around them broke, and when George headed off back to his dorm with nothing more than a wink and a kiss on the cheek Y/N’s stomach sank.
Y/N had felt nothing but pure joy after her and George’s activities and her heart felt as if it would beat out of her chest. She knew that she was in love with him, and after he had been so tender with her she was sure that he returned her feelings. But after he left her behind so quickly, she couldn’t help but think it had all been in her head.
“Five more minutes will turn to 10, which will turn into you missing breakfast. And you know how you get when you’re hungry, so get your ass out of bed,” Daphne scolds lightly.
Y/N groans but rolls out of bed, her heart heavy and her knees aching.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Daphne whispers to Y/N as they enter the Great Hall, gesturing towards Fred and George.
Y/N allows herself to look quickly, her heart rate increasing as her eyes pass over George. Memories of last night swim to the surface, and she swallows hard, willing them away. The twins have their heads together and they’re talking feverishly, clearly up to something. “Dunno really,” she answers, tearing her gaze away. “Probably planning their next prank or something.” Y/N and Daphne sit down with Adrian and Marcus and she grabs some toast, not really feeling up to eating.
“So, what are you gonna do?” Daphne asks as they start to eat.
Y/N gives her a look. “What am I gonna do about what?”
Daphne rolls her eyes. “Come one, it’s been what, two weeks since the twins have done something to you? They’ve gotta be over there cooking up some grand scheme against you.”
Y/N goes to respond, but she suddenly feels sick as George’s actions over the past few days start to make sense. He wasn’t in love with her, he was trying to embarrass her? Use her? Get information on her for him and Fred to use against her? She wasn’t exactly sure, but her heart sinks into her stomach. Whatever it was it couldn’t be good.
“I think I’m gonna head to Potions early,” she says suddenly, standing up. Adrian, Marcus and Daphne give her a look.
“You haven’t even eaten anything,” Adrian says, trying to pull her back down.
She bats his hand away and gathers her bag. “I’m not really that hungry. I’ll see you guys later.”
Without another word she’s heading out of the Great Hall, her friends and George all casting her back worried glances.
-
Y/N spends all day ignoring George despite his efforts to get her to pay attention to him. He spends all of Potions throwing rolled up pieces of parchment at her back, he tries to pull faces at her all during lunch and he spends most of charms slipping her notes. It had taken all of her willpower not to let him break her down. She’s so desperately in love with him that she’s almost willing to let him break her heart just so she can be close to him again.
“Finally, I’ve been looking for you all evening.”
Y/N doesn’t look up from her Herbology assignment as George takes a seat across from her. Her friends had been giving her worried glances all day, so after a quick dinner she tucked herself away in a corner of the library to avoid the confrontation she’s sure she’d get in the common room. She had figured she’d be safe from George as well, since Y/N is sure she’s never seen him, or Fred enter the library in the seven years they’ve been at school.
“What’s going on with you?” George asks softly when she doesn’t say anything. He’d been looking forward to seeing Y/N in the morning, and after her weird behavior at breakfast he had tried everything to get her attention.
Y/N glances at George quickly before she turns back to her assignment. “I could say the same to you,” she says coldly. When George doesn’t say anything Y/N sighs and puts her quill down, finally looking at George fully. “What were you and Fred talking about this morning? During breakfast.”
George taps his fingers against the table, his eyes starting deeply into Y/N’s. “He was asking me why I got back from my detention so late last night.” His cheeks are flushed pink and Y/N bites her lip to keep from smiling.
“What did you tell him? Did you tell him how easy I was? How desperate I was for you? How I touched myself? That I asked you for permission to finish?” she sneers, suddenly filled with rage.
George’s jaw practically drops to the table, his eyes widening in shock. “What? Why would I say any of that to him?” George asks, watching as Y/N starts to gather up her things.
“Because last night was just some big joke to you, wasn’t it?” she asks, as if the answer is obvious. “You don’t have feelings for me, you were just trying to get me into bed so you could have blackmail material or something. And I fell for it. Because I’m a big dumb idiot who is too in love to realize when she’s being played.”
Before George can even process what Y/N has just said she’s gone, tears streaming down her face and her heart broken in her chest.
-
“What’s wrong Y/N?” Daphne asks, taking a seat on the edge of her bed.
She isn’t completely surprised that Daphne had come to find her. When Y/N returned from the library, she was full on crying. She had ignored her friend’s attempts to talk to her and stormed right to her dorm room so she could crawl into her bed and sob. Daphne starts to stroke her hair, and Y/N wipes away some of her tears.
“I’m in love with George Weasley,” Y/N mumbles into her pillow.
Daphne’s hand pauses. “Come again?”
“I’m in love with George Weasley,” Y/N huffs, turning over so she’s facing Daphne. Her whole-body tenses, waiting for Daphne to laugh or make some kind of snide comment. But it doesn’t happen. Instead Daphne starts to stroke her hair again as she wipes away some of her tears.
“Honestly that’d make me cry as well,” she says with a laugh, trying to get Y/N to smile. When it works and Y/N cracks a small smile Daphne continues. “So, what happened? Did he say something rude? Because if he did I swear to you I’ll have Adrian and Marcus break into Gryffindor tower and beat him up.”
Y/N can’t help but let out a quiet laugh. She sits up in bed, wiping away the last few tears. “I ran into him last night when I was doing my rounds. And Umbridge almost caught us so we ran and hid in this weird secret passageway and um,” she pauses, swallowing thickly. “We kissed. And fooled around a little. Or a lot.”
“And that’s why you’re crying? Was it bad? Did you fake your orgasm?” Daphne teases.
Y/N rolls her eyes as a blush starts to form on her cheeks. “No, that’s not it. It was quite enjoyable I’ll have you know,” she says playfully, shoving Daphne’s shoulder lightly. “It was what happened afterward.”
“He said something stupid, didn’t he? My offer still stands, I will have Adrian and Marcus go beat him up,” Daphne says her tone serious.
“He didn’t really say anything,” Y/N explains, choosing to ignore Daphne’s threats for now. “But you said it yourself this morning at breakfast. He was talking with Fred, probably planning some prank on me.” Y/N pauses to swallow the lump in her throat and blink away the tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks. “It was all probably just some prank or set up or blackmail or something. I mean why would he wanna be with me,” she says lamely, looking down at her hands.
Daphne scoffs and puts her finger under Y/N’s chin, forcing her to return her gaze. “If George Weasley doesn’t want to be with you then he is a big fat idiot. Y/N you are amazing. And beautiful and smart and way too nice for your own good. You may have questionable taste in men, but I’ve been snogging Marcus since third year so I’m not really one to judge.”
Y/N laughs and pulls Daphne into a hug. Her heart still aches for George, but she feels a tiny bit better knowing that she has Daphne on her side.
-
Despite the fact that Y/N has been ignoring George all day, she finds herself heading to the Room of Requirement on Wednesday evening for a DA meeting. There are nervous butterflies in her stomach as she approaches but she doesn’t turn back. The DA is one of the only good things she’s had going on this year, and she’ll be damned if she lets George Weasley ruin that for her. Y/N had felt his eyes on her all day, and she hates to admit that it made her feel lightheaded.
She stops outside of the room of requirement to collect herself. Y/N takes a few deep breaths, trying to clear the thoughts of George from her mind. She’s semi-successful and she holds her head high as she throws the door open and steps inside.
“What the fuck?” she says, her eyes wandering around the room as the door shuts behind her. Y/N had certainly not been expecting the scene around her when she walked in. The room is dimly lit, with most of the lighting coming from candles that are floating around the room. There’s no furniture or practice dummies in sight, and the only other person in the room is George. He’s standing smack in the middle of the room watching her, a small smile on his face.
“I couldn’t think of any other way to get you alone,” he says after a moment, reaching a hand out towards Y/N. “So, I had Hermione send an alert out to your Galleon and hoped that you would show up.”
Y/N walks further into the room cautiously, still unsure as to what exactly is going on. She stands a few feet away from George, resisting the urge to take his hand and fall into his chest. “Okay but why?.” She pauses, her eyes scanning the room again. “If this is some kind of elaborate set up and Fred is about to jump out of somewhere I swear to Merlin George I will kill you.”
George chuckles and shakes his head, taking a step towards Y/N. When she doesn’t flinch, he takes another one. “I promise you; Y/N. Fred is nowhere near here.” He bites his lip, looking at Y/N closely. “This is just me, desperately trying to fix whatever mess I got us into.” When she doesn’t say anything George continues, needing to fill the awkward silence of the room. “Tuesday night was incredible. Best night of my life, hands down. I thought, I thought things would be different with us, afterwards. But then you didn’t even look at me all day yesterday and last night in the library that stuff you said,” he cuts himself off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I clearly did something wrong, but I’ve spent the past 24 hours thinking about everything I did, and I can’t seem to figure it out.”
“You didn’t say anything,” she says quietly after she lets George’s words soak in. When George raises his eyebrow in confusion she sighs. “On Tuesday, after everything that happened,” she clears her throat, trying to will the blush on her cheeks away. “When we were leaving you didn’t say anything. You just kind of left. I thought that it was just a one-time thing, that it didn’t mean the same to you as it did to me,” she admits quietly.
Y/N lets her eyes wander around the room, needing to look anywhere except for George’s face. Y/N likes to keep walls up around herself. She makes exceptions for her friends and her parents, the people she loves, but she keeps them up around others. She doesn’t like to show weakness, she doesn’t want to give people the opportunity to hurt her. On Tuesday Y/N had let all of those walls crumble to the ground the second George had kissed her and it felt incredible. She felt like she could truly be herself around him, and as much as she wishes she could build those walls up around her again it’s too late. Y/N has no choice but to stand here in this room and let George in.
“And then I just got all in my head,” she continues a moment later, finally letting herself look at George. Her heart is fluttering, and she can’t help but notice how good he looks. “When I went to breakfast that morning and you were whispering with Fred it looked like you guys were plotting something, like a prank or something. And it made me think that Tuesday was just some stupid prank. That you were gonna use the things I said against me, to embarrass me or something,” she mutters.
“Darling,” George starts, taking the last few steps to close the distance between them. He cups her cheek with one hand while the other reaches for one of hers. Y/N lets him grab her hand, and he intertwines their fingers. “I should have said something that night. There was so many things I wanted to say. But I didn’t want to overwhelm you. After that night we spent in detention I started to feel differently towards you. I knew you felt something too, but I wasn’t sure if you had realized it yet or not. So, when we left the passageway that night I wanted to give you time, to process everything.”
“I feel like such an idiot,” Y/N admits with a small smile. “I should have just said something instead of letting myself overthink it. I don’t like letting people in. But for some reason when I’m around you I can’t help but let you in. That night in detention I told you things not even Daphne knows. And then Tuesday, some of the things I said, I did,” she cuts herself off, a shiver running down her spine. “I’ve never let anyone see that side of me before and yet a few kisses from you had me blubbering like an idiot.”
“Blubbering like a wicked sexy idiot, darling,” George teases with a chuckle. He leans down and kisses her briefly. “I’m sorry, for not being clearer with my intentions.”
Y/N rolls her eyes, but there’s a warm smile on her face. “And what are those intentions?”
Her eyes flutter closed as George kisses her deeply, both of his hands landing on her bum, giving it a tight squeeze. She moans into the kiss and lets George’s tongue in to explore her mouth. She wraps her arms around George’s neck and pulls him flush to her body. George pulls away suddenly, with Y/N trying to chase his mouth.
George chuckles when she pouts at him. “To answer your question, darling. First, I’m going to fuck you into the mattress over there like the dirty little girl you are.” George pauses, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s lips as a shiver runs down her spine. “And then I’m going to hold you close and whisper how much I love you into your ear.”
Y/N pulls George’s face down and presses their lips together hotly, kissing him desperately. She jumps up, her legs wrapping around his waist and his hands gripping her bum tightly. George carries her over to the bed that had appeared at some point in the past few minutes and throws her down on it. He loosens his tie and throws it off over his head and starts to work on the buttons of his shirt. Y/N watches his fingers move, practically drooling as his pale chest becomes more and more exposed to her.
“What are you waiting for? Permission,” George teases, his voice gravelly and his eyes dark. “Get naked,” he demands a moment later when she still doesn’t move. “Let me see all of you.”
George’s voice causes goosebumps to appear all over Y/N’s body and her core starts to ache. She can already feel herself getting wet, and the way George is looking at her as she rids herself of her clothes is only making it worse.
In a matter of moments, they’re both naked, and Y/N can feel her skin flushing under George’s gaze. He’s standing by the edge of the bed, slowly stroking himself as his eyes run over her naked body. Her body is aching for his touch, and she squirms under his intense gaze. “Please, George,” she moans, one of her hands coming up to toy with her breasts.
In an instant George is on top of her, kissing her messily as his hands touch every inch of skin they can. He bats away the hand that’s palming her breast so he can take over, his fingers starting to toy with her sensitive nipple. Y/N moans into George’s mouth, arching her back to press herself up into him harder. George practically growls at her actions and his other hand grabs her left thigh, forcing her legs apart.
“What do you want, darling?” he asks hotly, his lips trailing kisses down her neck. “My fingers?” He releases her thigh and starts to ghost his fingers up her it towards her folds. “My mouth?” He latches onto her neck and starts to lightly suck, causing a sinful whine to leave her lips.
Y/N tangles her fingers in George’s hair, tugging lightly as she squirms under his touch. “Both, please,” she begs, her breath coming out in hard pants. George’s fingers have finally reached her core, and his index finger has started to slowly circle her clit.
“Both, hm? What a needy little girl you’re being, Y/N,” he chides, his mouth continuing to trail kisses down her neck and over her chest. “But how can I say no? Not when you’re being such a good girl and asking so nicely.”
Y/N moans. George’s thumb has started to rub soft circles on her clit while his mouth wraps around her breast, sucking her nipple lightly. When George had called her a good girl at the beginning of term it had filled her with rage, but now as he slowly pushes his index finger inside of her tight walls she thinks she could come just from him calling her that alone.
“Fuck, George,” she whines, clenching around his finger as he curls it inside of her. She can feel his smirk as he kisses down her stomach. Her hips start to move off of the bed as he starts to slowly fuck her with his finger. His free hand flies to her hip and pins it down against the bed.
“Don’t be so impatient, darling. I’m going to take my time with you,” he scolds. He pulls his finger out slowly, and when he pushes it back in another has joined it, causing Y/N to gasp. “You sound so pretty, darling. Such pretty noises,” he praises.
George moves down the bed as his lips ghost over her hip so he can position himself better for what’s about to happen. He stops his movements on her pussy suddenly, causing Y/N to whine at the loss. He grabs her thighs and pushes them farther apart, so she’s spread open for him. “Such a pretty pussy you have, darling,” he groans, his eyes gazing over her dripping folds. Y/N tries to shut her legs, but George’s grip tightens on her thighs, keeping them open. “Don’t be shy, darling,” he teases.
Y/N is writhing in George’s grasp, one hand is toying with her nipples while the other grips the bed sheets. “George, please,” she begs again, needing him to touch her. George chuckles and suddenly his mouth is on her, lightly sucking on her clit. “Oh fuck,” she shouts, her hand leaving her breast to tangle in George’s hair.
George’s tongue starts to tease Y/N’s clit, wrapping around the bud slowly before pulling away and coming to lightly flick at it. He wraps his arm around her left thigh as she begins to move her hips, forcing her back down against the bed. “Gonna need to get some rope to tie you up, keep you nice and open for me,” he murmurs before putting his mouth back on her aching core.
“Holy fuck, George,” Y/N moans as he suddenly plunges two fingers into her heat. She can’t help the sounds that are coming out of her mouth as George pleasures her, images of George tying her up floating in her mind. George hums in laughter as his fingers curl and brush up against Y/N’s sweet spot, causing her to moan again.
Y/N can feel her orgasm approaching, can feel the arousal building in her stomach. She wiggles her hips, trying to move away from George, and a squeal falls from her mouth when he pulls her even closer to his face. She grips his hair tightly and her toes curl as her orgasm approaches. Y/N yanks the sheets hard, her mouth opening and shutting unable to form a coherent thought due to George’s relentless pleasure.
“George please,” she sobs, her eyes screwing shut from the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through her body. Her legs are shaking as George licks at her core, his fingers hitting the spot inside her that drives her crazy with every thrust. “I need you. I need you to, George, please,” she begs. She’s teetering on the edge of her release, just needing that one final push that only George can provide.
“Need me to what, darling?” he asks coyly as he pulls his face away from her pussy. His thumb takes over the assault on her clit his tongue had been doing before, starting to rub it in hard circles.
“Please,” she begs again, tears starting to leak out the side of her eyes. Y/N has never been this turned on in her life. Her body is trembling, her need for release overwhelming every part of her.
George presses a few kisses to the hot skin on the inside of her thigh to hide his smile. Y/N looks absolutely ethereal as she wriggles in his grasp, begging him to let her come. Her hair is splayed out on the pillow behind her, and her neck looks like it’s begging to be bit. Her whole body is flushed, and a sheen of sweat has appeared over her skin.
“You are absolutely gorgeous, Y/N,” he compliments as he situates himself on top of her again. He leans on his forearm and presses their lips together briefly. “Such a good girl, darling. Go on be a good girl, come for me.”
George kisses her again as she comes, groaning as her walls tighten around his fingers. Y/N’s whole-body shakes as she comes, and George continues to slowly rub her clit as she comes down from her high. With one final curl of his fingers he removes them from her heat.
“You are a goddess,” he murmurs against her lips before he pulls away.
Y/N opens her eyes, smiling up at George. “And you’re a bloody fucking tease.”
George laughs and rolls onto his back, his arm winding around Y/N’s waist to pull her on top of him. Y/N giggles in delight, pressing their lips together in a heated kiss. She lets her hand trail along his chest as they kiss, pausing as she reaches his groin. “Now see if I really was a good girl,” she mocks her fingertips dancing on the skin just above the base of his cock. “I’d touch you but.” She sighs and brings her hand back up to rest on George’s chest. “I’m feeling kinda naughty.”
“Bold tactic for a girl who was just begging me to let her come a few seconds ago,” George responds playfully, leaning up to press their lips together again. Y/N squeals when George pulls her fully on top of him so she’s straddling his waist. “I know I said I was gonna fuck you into the mattress but,” he says with a sigh when he breaks their kiss. “I don’t know if naughty girls deserve my cock.”
Despite the fact that she had just come a few seconds ago, Y/N’s pussy is aching again. She pouts down at George, rolling her hips. A satisfied smirk appears on her face when he groans. “What if I promise to be a good girl?”
George rolls them over so she’s underneath him. “I think I can make an exception.” Y/N laughs as George kisses her and winds her legs around his waist. George lines himself up with her entrance, breaking their kiss so he can look at her. “Ready?” When Y/N nods George pushes his hips forward and slowly enters Y/N.
“Oh my god, George,” she gasps as her hands come up to grip his shoulders. George doesn’t stop until his hips are flush against Y/N’s bum.
“Fucking hell you’re tight, Y/N,” he groans, burying his face in her neck. He lets out another groan as Y/N’s walls clench around him.
“Fuck me George, please,” she demands, squeezing his shoulders.
George chuckles into her neck and pulls out of her halfway before he slams back in, starting to slowly fuck her. “Since you asked so nicely,” he teases, pressing an open mouth kiss to her jaw.
For a few minutes all the noise that can be heard is Y/N and George’s combined moans as well as skin slapping on skin. George grabs Y/N’s leg and throws it over his shoulder so he can fuck into her deeper and the head of his cock is now rubbing her sweet spot with every thrust.
“Oh fuck,” Y/N moans, scratching her nails down George’s back. “Feels so good, George. ‘M already close.”
“Fuck me too,” he growls, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “You feel so fucking good, darling.” He presses a few kisses into the skin below her ear. “Go on, darling. Come for me when you’re ready. Didn’t even need to touch your little clit, did I? Such a good girl, coming from just my cock.”
George’s words tip Y/N over the edge and she throws her head back, George’s name falling from her mouth. Her walls tighten and twitch around George, causing him to reach his climax as well. He empties himself inside of Y/N, his hips slowly rolling into her to help them both come down from their highs.
Once George’s cock has stopped twitching and Y/N’s breathing starts to slow down, George carefully pulls out of her and collapses on the bed next to her. George opens up his arm and Y/N rolls into his side, burying her face in the crook of his neck. She peppers soft kisses to the sweaty skin as George starts to rub her back.
“It’s not fair, you know,” George says as Y/N trails a few kisses up his neck and across his jaw.
Y/N pecks his lips softly. “What’s not fair?” she asks with a chuckle.
George pouts at her and she kisses him briefly again. “Every time we get intimate you get to come twice, and I only get to come once. That’s totally not fair.”
Y/N laughs and buries her face in George’s neck again. “Well maybe if you were a good boy I’d let you come more than once,” she teases.
George’s fingers dig into Y/N’s side as he holds her in place, tickling her mercilessly. Y/N shrieks with laughter, desperately trying to wiggle away from George’s grasp. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she laughs, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. George tickles her for another moment before he stops, one of his hands resting on the small of Y/N’s back and the other grabs hers.
“I love you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
Y/N looks up at him and presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “I love you too.”
-
The next morning as Y/N drags George over to the Slytherin table for breakfast she can hear Ginny shouting at Ron.
“I told you, you absolute numpty! You owe me a Galleon!”
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