#jd johndeacon or jackdaniels

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Rabbits

Rabbits Rabbits

I hope you all have a very Happy Holiday season!

[mirkwoodshewolf]

An ear for an arm; George Weasley x reader

*Author's note*

Like I said, I had some more tales of George Weasley and Sirius Black daughter fics coming your way and today I've got two more that I've been able to write due to this snowstorm that I'm dealing with. Hope you all enjoy these next two fics and for those who have been affected by the snow like me, stay safe, stay warm and keep snug :)

Taglist:

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@waddles03

@plethora-of-things

@queen-paladin

@psychosupernatural

@remussl0vers

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Tonight was the night.  Harry needed to be moved from Pivot Drive to the Burrow tonight and all of us have agreed to take the risk.  I was one of the seven chosen to become ‘Harry Potter’ while we’d move him so that Voldemort and his followers wouldn’t know who the real one was.  Alongside me were Hermione, Ron, Fleur, and the twins Fred and George.

Although there was reluctance on both George’s and uncle Remus’ side of me being a part of this but there was no time for arguing anymore. 

One; he was my godbrother and pretty much the only family I have left of not only dad but uncle James and Aunt Lily. Two; I was the fastest flyer so even if something were to happen to Mad Eye, I’d at least stand a chance and hopefully get the jump on the Death eaters.  And three; if worse comes to worse, I can always escape using my animagus form and hide until the coast is clear.

We arrived late one night at Harry’s uncle and aunt’s home and explained to him of our plan.  Of course, he didn’t go for it because he didn’t want any more of us to die for him.

“This is war Harry. Dying now or dying later is what we’re up against now. We know what we’re getting into.” I had told him.

“No, no this is different. Taking that becoming me. No!” Harry said.

“Well none of us really fancy it, mate.” Said Fred.

“Yes, imagine if something went wrong and we’d end up a scrawny, specky git forever!” George mocked dramatically.  I shoved his arm and gave him a pointed look.

“Alright Granger as discussed.” Mad Eye said to her.  Hermione then went up and yanked some of Harry’s hair from behind his head before walking up to him to put it into the Polyjuice potion.  The seven chosen then stepped forward and lined up as the potion was being mixed.  “For those of you who haven’t taken Polyjuice potion before, fair warning. Tastes like goblin piss.”

“Have enough of that experience do you Mad Eye?” Fred asked as he took the bottle from Mad Eye’s hand.  Mad Eye glared at him unamused then Fred shrugged, “Just trying to diffuse the tension.” Then he took the first sip of the potion.  Followed by George, me, Fleur, Ron and then Hermione.

Goblin piss my arse Mad-Eye you’re full of rubbish! This was worse than that.  Probably the foulest thing I’ve ever tasted in my entire life.  But I started to feel the effects of the Polyjuice potion starting to affect me as I grew ever slightly and my long hair began to grow short.

My face morphed as well as every other part of my body until finally I along with everyone else had now become Harry Potter.

“Wow, we’re identical.” Fred and George said as they looked at each other.

“Not yet you’re not.” Said Mad Eye.

We were all then given the same pair of clothes to wear.  A long-sleeved red shirt, and light blue jacket, black jeans and of course replicas of Harry’s glasses.  I stripped out of my clothes and grabbed a pair of the clothes.  I put on the pants first before adjusting the belt followed by the shirt and jacket.  When I went to put on the glasses last, I couldn’t help but start to feel a headache coming on.

“Harry, once we live through this, I’m going to find a spell to get your eyes fixed. Bloody hell.” I shook my head as I adjusted the glasses fully onto the bridge of my nose.

“Right then, we’ll be pairing off. Each Potter will have a protector. Ms. Black as agreed you’re sticking close to me.”

“No arguing there.” I told him.

“As for Harry,”

“Yes?” everyone else who had been turned into Harry spoke up.  Blimey I feel like I’m in the Twilight zone right now.

“The real Harry. Where the devil are you anyway?”

“Here.” Harry raised his hand as he too was ordered to change into the same outfit as us.

“You’ll ride with Hagrid.” Harry and Hagrid stood close to one another as Hagrid told him.

“I brought you here 16 years ago when you were no bigger than a Bowtruckle. Seems only right that I should be the one that take you away now.” I smiled at them softly.  Harry and Hagrid truly did have a special bond with each other throughout Harry’s entire time at Hogwarts, and vaguely recalling how it was indeed Hagrid who brought Harry here, it did seem right that he should be the one to save him once again.

“Yes it’s all very touching. Let’s go!” Mad Eye said impatiently.  We all headed outside but just before Uncle Remus and George could step out, I grabbed both of their hands and said to them.

“Watch out for each other.”

“We will darling. You watch out for yourself too.” George told me as he cupped the side of my face.  I nuzzled into his palm and the two of us embraced one another.  “I love you.”

“I love you more.” I whispered back.  As we separated I turned to Uncle Remus who looked at me solemnly but he tried to keep a brave face on.

“I know how fast of a flyer you are from seeing your Quidditch matches. If things go south, you fly as fast as you can. Do not engage any more than you have to.”

“You too Uncle Remus. Dad told me how you were a pretty fast flyer in your time at the Quidditch field.”

“Those were the old days.” He brushed off.  I shook my head before embracing him and he held me as tight as he could.  “Please be careful.”

“I promise I will. No tricks.”

“Miss Black!” I heard Mad-eye exclaimed impatiently.  I looked at the two most important men of my life and stepped out and readied my broom beside Mad-Eye.

Everyone lined up in two rows, each Potter with their protectors at their side.  Others chose to travel on the Thestrals like Bill and Fleur, and Hermonie and Mr. Kinglsey.

“Head for the Burrows, we rendezvous there. On the count of three!” Mad-eye exclaimed.  Hagrid and Harry, who rode on dad’s old flying bike stood in the middle between all of us.

“Hold tight Harry.” Hagrid told my godbrother as he revved the engine up.

“One! Two! Three!” with a slam of his staff, everyone took off flying at Mad-Eye’s command.  Once Harry and Hagrid were in the air, Mad-Eye turned to me and gave me a nod to fly on ahead.  I nodded back and urged my broom upward.

Soon enough Mad-Eye caught up with me and together the two of us flew to be lead the flight to the Burrows.  We came up to Harry and Hagrid and Harry turned to look at me.  I gave him a firm nod before Mad-Eye and I raced onward and disappeared into the storm clouds ahead.

Little did we know that that would be the last thing any of us would ever do.

I don’t even know how it happened but as we came to a clearing through the storm clouds, thousands of Death Eaters were already in waiting as they charged at all of us.

Everyone was being pursued by at least a dozen or so Death Eaters and various spells were being fired in all directions.  Death Eaters forced Mad-Eye and I to part from each other’s side so I decided to give them something to chase.  Putting my reputation as the faster flyer on Ravenclaw’s Quidditch team, I flew in multiple loops, quickly zig-zagged through the sky forcing some of the Death eaters to crash into others that were chasing my friends and loved ones, I even dared the Death Eaters into a what I call ‘the death dive.

It's where a witch or wizard on a broom dives down as fast as they can towards the ground before pulling up at just the last second, and I do mean the last second.  Most witches and wizards never dared to attempt this move since most have either died or ended up paralyzed never to ride or walk again (even with magic).

But ever since gaining some spells books of my mum’s before Dumbledore’s passing, she developed the perfect technique on how to perform such a feat.  Any Death Eater that came after me fell for that trick and they’d end up falling into the water to their demise.

Any spell that came my way, I’d deflect before giving them an offense attack.  Whether it was from all the spells that I’ve learned in school or from my mum’s spell books.

I had found out recently that on my mother’s side, her family has always been able to harness power from the Stars and at dire times, the Moon itself.  Using their power and light to enhance their spells and incantations, that’s why they were known as the Celestial Wizards.  That’s why everyone on my mother’s side had a part of Astronomy as part of their name.

Now I won’t brag and say I’m an expert (after all I’ve only had these books for barely a year) but the spells that I have been able to muster, I’ve gotten pretty good at it.  So when doing the death dive didn’t work, I’d force the Death Eaters higher than any witch or wizard had been known to fly and used the power of the stars to enhance my attacks.

But it was then my element of surprise against the Death Eaters was broken with a fire snake soon burst through the dark clouds lighting up any chance I had to keep to the shadows.  I was barely able to escape the flames unscathed but my broom, however, wasn’t as lucky.

The bristles had caught flame and I knew it was only a matter of time before it’d lose it’s magic and I’d go crashing down with no way of stopping.  A cloud of black and green soon surrounded me and I knew that Voldemort had spotted me.

“Okay Voldemort, you want me, see if you got the guts to follow me.” I muttered as I dove downward and as fast as I could feel myself fall into the Death dive once more with Voldemort’s smoke trail following right behind me.

He kept to my right but I couldn’t see his face.  Come on you bloody git, show me your face.  Give me something to fire at.  I kept up the Death dive until we were pass the clouds and I saw nothing but green down below.  I held my wand tightly as I kept looking between Voldemort and the ground.

The red lights from the Crucio curse were being fired at me but I managed to dodge them even with my busted broom.  I knew deep in my gut it wouldn’t be long before he would use the killing curse.  But right as I saw the flash of green, I didn’t feel it’s effect on me.

Instead all I saw was Mad-Eye’s body and broom fall straight to the ground.  My heart sunk, he took the hit for me.  Rage took over my body as I shot out one of my family spells.

“STELLA FULMINE!!” a lightning bolt of pure starlight soon shot out from my wand and it met with the light of the Killing Curse that now was coming for me.  The two attacks met and were pushing against each other.

‘So it is true.’ I could hear his voice in my head. ‘The Daughter of Sirius Black survives. How proud do you think he would be of you? Or your mother for that matter?’ how dare he speak about my mother.  ‘Oh yes, Pettigrew told me of her screams when he killed her, she was indeed a fool to think she could stop us. And soon child, you shall join them.’

He soon broke our two spells apart which caused a bright explosion to burst forward blinding me and sending me off my broom until all I felt was pain and myself slamming into the ground before my whole world went black.

*3rd Person POV*

It was a hard and tough journey but Harry and Hagrid were the first to arrive, barely with their lives intact.  Shortly after their arrival Remus and George apparated into the fields of the Burrow.  However George had been blasted with a curse by Snape and lost his ear.  Blood was seeping down his head as Remus struggled to hold him up properly.  Harry helped his former professor to bring George into the house and set him down on the couch.

But now knowing that they had been betrayed, Remus immediately went and pinned Harry to the wall with his wand pointed at him.  Hagrid and Ginny exclaimed at Remus but he shushed them before he asked Harry.

“What creature sat in the corner the first time Harry Potter visited my office in Hogwarts?”

“Are you mad!?” exclaimed Harry but Remus yelled back.

“WHAT CREATURE!!”

“A Grindylow.” Answered Harry.  Both of them panting heavily before Remus finally released him.

“We’ve been betrayed. Voldemort knew you were being moved tonight. I had to make sure you weren’t an imposter.” Remus’ reason for the interrogation now began to weigh heavily on everyone’s mind.  With everyone scattered during the attack, who knows if the members of the Order that will come through will be the real ones or imposters.

Thunder rumbled outside signifying the arrival of a Thestral.  Harry and Remus ran outside to see Hermoine and Kinglsey.  The two men pointed their wands at each other as they stood face to face and Kinglsey spoke their secret password to Remus.

“The last words Albus Dumbledore spoke to the pair of us.”

“Harry is the best hope we have. Trust him.” With that answer Kinglsey lowered his wand and asked Harry. “What gave you away?”

“Hedwig, I think. She was trying to protect me.” A second thunder rumble signified and soon landing was Bill and his wife Fleur.  Almost immediately after they had landed, walking out of the fields were Tonks and Ron who was now starting to shift back into himself.

Hermione ran up to Ron and embraced him and he embraced her back as the effects of the Polyjuice potion finally wore off of him.

“Thanks.” He said breathlessly.

“He deserves that. Brilliant he was. I wouldn’t be standing here without him.” Tonks praised as she came up to Lupin and immediately embraced him.  Remus embraced his wife back and from his werewolf senses he knew he didn’t need to interrogate her, this was his wife.

“Really?” asked Hermione.

“Why is that so surprising?” Harry seeing his two best friends alive and well immediately ran up and embraced the both of them.  Finally the last to arrive were Arthur and Fred.  Fred took off Harry’s glassed and he and his dad patted each other on the shoulder.

“Are we the last back?” asked Arthur.  “Where’s George?” when no one answered, Fred’s heart raced as he ran straight into the house.  There he saw his younger twin lying barely conscious, the left side of his head stained with blood.  He came over beside his mother setting his wand down as the others gathered around the Weasley’s living room.

“How you feeling Georgie?” Fred asked softly.

“Saint like.” Croaked George.

“Come again?”

“Saint like. I’m holey. I’m holey Fred, yah get it?” he joked as he pointed to his now missing ear.  Fred and Molly shook their heads at George’s joke.

“The whole wide world of ear-related humor. And you go for ‘I’m holey’. How (Y/n) chose you I’ll never understand.”

“Because I’m the better looking one, even now reckon I’m still better looking than you. Where….where is she anyway?” that’s when Bill stepped forward and gave the grim news.

“Mad-Eye’s dead.” Everyone froze and was silent at the revealed news of one of the greatest aurors in the Wizarding world.  “I’m….I’m sorry George. (Y/n) forced Voldemort into the Death dive….and he made sure she couldn’t pull back up in time.”

Even through his dazed and weak state, George’s heart broke as he tried to stand up but his mom and Fred held him back.

“No, No! She…..she can’t be. She’s alive. I can feel it we-we have to…..”

“You’re not going anywhere George. You’re barely able to stand right now let alone go out there flying on your broom again.” Molly told her son.

“Remus please! You’re her godfather. Surely you—”

“With every ounce of my being do I wish I can race back out there and find her.” Remus told him.  “But there’s too many Death eaters out there to have a search party. If…..” he trailed off as he felt his heartbreak for even saying that word.  “We’ll give her until morning, if she doesn’t turn up we’ll…..we’ll work something out.”

“No! No she-she could be captured! Or—dying. She needs our help!”

“George, George.” Fred tried to ease his younger twin but at this point George was too hysterical to console.  Hermione and Fleur couldn’t bear to listen as it broke their hearts, Harry tried to keep his composure as he felt this was his fault.  First Cedric, then Sirius, then Mad-Eye now his own god-sister.

From the stress and blood loss, George’s frantic behavior soon caused him to pass out from exhaustion.  Molly had Fred and Bill take him up to the twin’s bedroom while everyone else contemplated on what needed to be done now that (Y/n) was MIA.

Once Fred and Bill set George down on his bed, Bill gave his younger brother a pat on the shoulder before leaving the room leaving the twins alone.

“(Y/n)…..(Y/n)…..” Fred noticed his twin brother’s lips whispering so faintly.  Fred took his twin’s hand and held onto it tightly.

“I was a witness to your unbreakable bond. If you say she’s alive, I’ll believe you Georgie. But don’t stress yourself sick mate. Especially not before she comes, she’d have both our heads.” He then rested his head against George’s bed but kept a strong hold of his brother’s hand until he fell fast asleep.

As the night went on at the Burrow and everyone had now fallen asleep, a limping figure slowly made their way through the fields toward the Burrow.  Right arm hung limp and blood dripped every now and then with each step.

The figure then soon let out an animalistic yowl.  It kept yowling every few seconds out in code, hoping and praying that someone from the Burrow would hear her.

The first to awaken hearing those yowls was Remus.  He shot up from the chair next to Tonks.  He heard the yowls again and knew there was only one puma in existence in all of England.  Soon the others began to stir awake hearing those pained yowls.

“It’s her.” Fred whispered before shooting up and quickly racing down the stairs.  Him, Remus, Harry, Arthur and Molly, Ginny, Hermoine and Ron all raced outside and soon limping out from the fields was (Y/n).

She was stuck mind-transformation out of her animagus form because of the pain so she was left having her puma ears, her tail, claws and fangs.

“(Y/n)!” Ginny exclaimed but before she could run to her, her parents stopped her while Fred was the one to go up to her being her interrogator.  He almost didn’t wish to hold his wand against her because he wanted to believe that this was his best friend and future sister-in-law.

“No one, not even our own mother, can tell George Weasley and I apart save for one. How does (Y/n) Celeste Black do it?”

“You…..Frederick Gideon Weasley maybe the oldest of the pair, but George is slightly taller than you by a width of an inch, even though you try to claim it’s a centimeter. You are also more brash than your other half which can lead you to be more reckless. But furthermore it’s because while I love you both more than anything in this world, it is George that holds my heart for he is Mine and I am His.”

Fred immediately lowered his wand and raced up and caught (Y/n) in his arms just as she was about to collapse in pain.  She let out some pained groans and Fred whispered to her.

“You’re here sister fox, it’s alright now.” He gently picked her up and carried her into the house.  Now knowing that it was indeed the real (Y/n) Black and not an imposter, they immediately made room for her and got her as comfortable as possible.

“Let’s have a look at you dear.” Molly cooed as she cupped the young girl’s face.  “Pretty nasty cut and bump to the head. And your right arm is indeed broken.” She felt around (Y/n)’s side and she let out a hiss as her claws dug into the Weasley’s furniture.  “A few broken ribs, and scraped up everywhere else I can see. Don’t you worry dear, we’ll have you fixed up in a tick.”

Remus slowly walked up and knelt down beside her and stroked through her madded hair.  Her eyes fluttered open one being her normal color while the other was stuck as her puma yellow.

“I did as you said Uncle Remus. I flew as fast as I could.”

“I know you did.”

“I even performed mum’s star bolt spell.”

“I know, I know shhh. Save your strength, kit.” He assured her.

“Where’s George? Is he…..”

“Shhh just rest. You’ll both see each other in the morning.” Remus continued to stroke through his god-daughter’s hair and cheek while Molly began healing up (Y/n)’s injuries.

As she was slowly healing up, it caused the rest of her body to slowly morph more human like.  She let out some groans as the bones that needed to morph back shifted.  Once she was finally human, she had passed out from the pain and from pure exhaustion.  Molly finished tying up her arm into a sling.

“I tried my best with her arm but the damage is too significant even with magic. We’ll need to consult Madame Pomfrey.”

“Thank you Molly. I know you tried your best.” Remus thanked her graciously.

“Fred, why don’t you take her up to Ginny’s room? Get her properly tucked into a bed.” Fred nodded at his mom’s suggestion and carefully picked her up and carried her upstairs but as Ginny opened her door for him, Fred looked towards his and George’s room.

He turned to his little sister and Ginny gave him an understanding look.  Plus with both of them severely injured, there wouldn’t be any fooling around tonight.  Fred gave his sister a nod before turning towards his room and gently placed her right beside George who was still asleep, his ear now completely wrapped up and stained red.

Gently as he could, Fred set (Y/n) beside his twin brother knowing that she should be the first thing he sees when he woke up knowing that he was frantic with worry after hearing what had happened to Mad-Eye.  He sat at his twin’s bedside and saw his two dearest friends lying side by side almost appearing dead.

Tears burned behind Fred’s eyes before he allowed them to be released.  Never before have he and George ever left the other’s side, and when (Y/n) joined with them, even after being sorted in different houses the three of them made a pact to always never be too far from each other.

Now the one time he’s apart from them his twin loses his ear and his future sister in law nearly lost her life.

*My POV*

My body was in excruciating agony.  My right arm felt prickly like thousands of needles were poking at my skin and muscles constantly.  Each breath I took was like getting hit with a bludger, and my head was pounding like a drum.  But the smell of cinnamon and apples at least eased the pain for a moment.

It hurt to try and open my eyes but I had to see for myself that I was there.  I saw the faint glimpse of sunrays peering through the wood, the faint scent of gunpowder still lingered in the air from the twin’s last ever test run on their fireworks before they moved out into the flat above the shop.

“Morning darling.” I slowly turned my head and there he was.

“George.” I reached up with my left hand and placed my hand to his cheek.  He nuzzled into my palm holding my hand with both of his.

“I know you were a Ravenclaw but maybe next time don’t take the name too seriously.” I went to laugh but it hurt my ribs.

“Don’t make me laugh George, it still hurts.”

“Since you’re in such agony, I’ll go easy on you.” He brushed my cheek with his thumb.  “You gave us quite the fright love. Had it not been for the bond we made, I wouldn’t have known you were still out there.”

“I…..don’t even remember getting here. All I remember was falling off my broom, then hitting the ground and then—nothing. You sure no one came and got me?”

“Fred said you were stuck mid-way through your animagus form last night when you arrived. Maybe the shock right now is forcing you to suppress your memory of coming here.”

“Maybe.” That’s when I took notice of his bandaged head.  I had him turn and I gasped softly.  “Is it…..”

“Cursed off completely. Snape did that.” I growled softly but had winced once again.  “Easy darling. Beyond that I’m fine all things considered, I don’t repulse you do I?”

“George Fabian Weasley. You could have a toad’s gullet or grown a second head and I’d still love you.”

“Not calling me the most handsomest wizard in the world anymore eh?”

“You already got a big ego, no need to stroke it any further.”

“I’m hurt darling.” We both smiled at each other before he leaned in and captured my lips with his.  The softest yet most yearning kiss he could muster sent tingles through my body.  “Never scare me like that again.”

“Promises, promises.” He chuckled as he nuzzled his nose against mine.

“You’re lucky your as injured as you are now. I’d be tickling you for your smart mouth.”

“Good thing eh?” I teased back.

“Just watch yourself love. You know I never forget to collect my debts.” He kissed me again and as he cupped the side of my face a voice spoke up.

“I put you both together hoping the snogging wouldn’t be as bad as it normally is with you two being injured.” We separated and there at the doorway was Fred.  He came over and gently brushed some of the hair out of my face.  “How you feeling sis?”

I smiled softly at that term.  I always did feel a brotherly-type of love with Fred and now to hear him verbalize and reciprocate that familial type of love I had for him, it made my dark world feel a bit more lighter.

“Everything hurts. Maybe George is right, I should retire from flying.”

“I only said to not take the name Ravenclaw literally.” George said pecking my shoulder.

“Mum’s called Madam Pomfrey to come have a look at you. She should be here soon. I just wanted to see if you had awaken yet. Georgie’s been up since the crack of dawn watching over you, it was creepy.”

“It’s called being a dutiful boyfriend. Maybe you could learn a thing or two for Angelina’s sake.” George argued.

“Boys please, no arguing in front of the injured witch.” I reprimanded softly.  “Are the others okay? Did they all make it?”

“Everyone accept for Mad-Eye.” He said solemnly.  I was hit with a flashback of seeing him take the Killing curse for me.

“He died for me. Voldemort was aiming for me. But Mad-Eye got in the way and fell. That was before…..” I was hit with another tingly pain in my arm.  I clenched onto it and George slowly backed up and sat up as Fred gently rubbed my shoulder.

“I’ll go tell mum you’re up and to get Madam Pomfrey here stat.” he ran out of the room while George brushed through my hair softly trying to ease my pain.

According to Madam Pomfrey I should be paralyzed from the waist down.  But I must’ve transformed halfway in my fall and that managed to save me but it didn’t mean I was unscathed.

My right arm was broken and not even she is able to fix it.  But the other scrapes, broken bones and bruises she was.  My healing at home would be to soak in a salt elixir bath for 30 minutes twice a day to help heal the bones and hopefully further mend my arm.  I was also condemned for at least the next few days to be either bed-ridden or had to use a wheelchair to assist me in getting around.

 Even though I hated having to be this injured when we’re so close to the War of the century starting, I took that time to practice magic with my left hand.  It was hard work not being a normal leftie but I’d imagine doing the wand movements with my right and that managed to make the spells easier to do.

When Bill and Fleur’s wedding came, I was in my wheelchair with George standing behind me as he’d wheel me around down the garden so that I could be part of the festivities.  I’d ask him if he were ashamed to have to pull a wheelchair-bound witch but he said to me.

“If you’re not ashamed to be seen with a one-eared wizard, then I’m not ashamed to wheel my beautiful wheel-chair bound girlfriend.” I really did choose the right man to spend the rest of my life with.  George was with me through all the healings I needed and eventually in no time, I was able to properly walk again and my right arm (though still slightly disfigured), I was able to use it to do minimal things.

I just hope that by the time this war truly begins, nothing will stop me from fighting to protect the ones I love.

[m0llygunn]

Apologies and Promises (eddie munson x fem!reader)

Part 3 to Same Old Song and Dance 01 / 02 Summary: Hurt feelings hidden under the shallow guise of anger and indifference, in an inebriated state there’s no choice but to face the layers of truth.

Tropes: enemies to lovers (kind of), mean stubborn idiots in love, honestly idk at this point. Warnings: 18+! mature language, ‘bullying’, forcible wrist holding, pet names (princess, sweetheart, angel, baby), mentions of oral (m receiving), angst, alcohol consumption, vomit mention. Author’s note: I am resisting the urge to over explain why theres no smut and this chapter was needed to progress feelings (i know smut is a selling point IM SORRY... but soon i swear it'll be back). wc: 7.2k+

tags: @needylilgal022 @tlclick73 @ropickle @suethh @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @emma77645 @yujyujj

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You didn’t wait around for him to show but you also didn’t expect to have to wait around for him to show.

You’re not disappointed. Why should you be? You didn’t want him to pick you up anyways. 

If anything, you’re pissed. 

He relentlessly badgered you last night about it. Wouldn’t leave until you agreed to let him drive you to school. He was so insistent, that he nearly slept on your floor using that stupid notebook as a pillow.

You’re not disappointed. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Want me to knock him out?” Steve offers and you can’t help but laugh. 

Steve was dropping off his coworker-turned-best friend, Robin, when you were walking into school. He’s a close family friend— and Nancy’s on-again-off-again boyfriend, so you happily stopped for a chat. 

“Steve. I hate to break it to you but Munson’s a veteran school fighter. He might not win every fight but he’s definitely been in more fights than you.” You say, patting Steve on the cheek as he comically deflates before you.

“Hey! I won the last fight I was in and I’ve been working on my biceps, can’t you tell?” He says, flexing his arms. 

“Yeah, yeah.” You smile, watching Steve flex his unnoticeably larger arms until he rounds up his antics and leans back against his car. “Your dad at that work conference thing too?” You ask, curiously wondering if it really is a work trip your dad’s on right now. 

“Absolutely. Any chance to get away, right?” Steve says with a somber laugh. 

“I know the feeling...any chance.” You reply, nodding your head in agreement.

“Yeah, well.” Steve shrugs. “Might throw a party, might not.” He says indifferently. You perk up at the idea of a party. It’s always the same crowds that show, you know the list of attendees like the back of your hand.

“You should, I can get Nance to come along, maybe you can rekindle.” You say, hitting Steve’s arm. This could be to his benefit too, Nancy has been bringing him up again recently and that’s always the catalyst to the ‘on again’ portion of their relationship.

“You got some kind of insight?” Steve replies, eyes studying you.

You purse your lips, choosing your words wisely. “Can't say. Bad enough I already told you my business, can’t tell you her business too, Stevie.” 

Steve smiles, shaking his head, accepting your answer because he knows that’s as close as he’ll get to you spilling Nancy's secrets. 

He knows all about your rivalry with Munson, and as much as he doesn’t like the guy, he was actually the first one who suggested sleeping with him quite some time ago. It was a joke of course… yet here you are. You figured he deserved to know that he was some sort of prophet, so you filled him in. Not in as much detail as you did with Nancy, but you told him the gist of it. 

Your conversation with Steve simmers to a lull, both of you watching over the crowd of students funnelling from the parking lot into the school. You’re not explicitly looking for it, but you can’t help but notice the lack of a certain obnoxiously loud van. 

“You’re good, right?” Steve asks, shoulder bumping your own.

“Yeah.” You sigh.

“You sure?” He asks again, turning towards you enough to gauge your reaction. You shrug your shoulders.

“Maybe a little embarrassed.” You say, shifting back and forth on your feet, eyes still flickering over the bustling parking lot. 

“Don’t be. Fuck him.” He says making you snort a laugh.

“Fuck him?” You question, smirk playing on your lips.

“No! I mean, unless you want to. But he did stand you up so…” Steve says trailing off. You try to laugh it off but it sounds more like a scoff. 

“Yup. Eddie Munson stood me up.” You say, words rolling off your tongue in a confusing cross between regret and hurt even when you meant for it to be a joke. A laughable comment between two friends who know how you and Eddie interact, who know he’s nothing more than a nuisance to you, nothing more than an incessant house fly that just won’t quit circling you. 

You never thought you’d be saying that in this lifetime. You never thought he’d have the opportunity to stand you up. 

You tell yourself you’re not disappointed, but the words sure do taste like it. 

You shrug your shoulders, shaking off your thoughts. “I should go, bell’s about to ring.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It was during your second period math quiz. A timid, curly headed freshman knocked on the door interrupting the silence of the room. 

Mrs. Rotman stood from her desk, crossing the room, engaging in a whispered conversation with the boy. She turned to look around the room, eyes flitting over the students before landing on you. She turned back to the boy, whispered something to him and sent him on his way. 

You tried to pretend you were busy doing your quiz but it was hard with her eyes focused on you as she walked in your direction.

“Honey, your fathers in the office for you. Something about a family emergency. Don’t worry about the quiz, sweetie.” She whispered, leaning down to your level with sullen eyes that made your heart rate pick up.

“Family emergency?” You questioned anxiously. 

“Yes dear, go on and head down to the office.” She said, patting your back. 

Leaving behind your quiz that you barely had a chance to start on, you quietly let yourself out of the class. 

Speed walking down the hall, opening the door to the stairwell with enough force for the sound to echo against the cement walls and linoleum floors, you hurry to descend the stairs. With your mind busy, rifling through what potential family emergency would bring your father back to town, you didn’t even notice him standing by the stairwell exit until you stepped down onto the landing. 

There’s a moment before he looks at you. A moment where your heart beats faster. A moment where you’re flooded with scary feelings. A moment were you remember last night. And a moment were you remember this morning.

“Oh for god's sake.” You groan, leaving that moment behind, churning everything into a genuine annoyance because you fell for such a stupid trick. 

“Princess, funny seeing you here. Daddy’s been waiting.” Eddie says, smirk plastered on his face, waiting with his back against the wall, trying to exude some sort of coolness that he doesn’t possess. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You spit, burning hot from the inside out. Eddie deflates in front of you, smirk dropping as he steps away from the wall towards you.

“No?” He says, almost like he’s asking you. 

“Why the fuck would you think this was okay?” You sneer, voice raising in volume. He shrinks further.

“Just wanted to see you.” He shrugs, eyes falling to the ground.

If he 'wanted to see you', he wouldn’t have stood you up. 

“You wanted to see me?” You scoff bewilderedly.

“Yeah, and apologize for this morning.” He says, eyes flickering up to you.

You spin on your heels, ready to explain the situation to Mrs. Rotman and go back to finishing your quiz. You don't want to hear an apology for that.

“Shit— Princess, come back!” He calls after you. You hear feet clambering, catching up to you just as you clear the first set of stairs. His grasp captures your wrist and you get the eeriest sense of deja vu.

“Princess, c’mon, let me apologize.” He says, voice pleading as you try to tug yourself free.

“No. You can apologize to Mrs. Rotman’s math class for interrupting everyone during the quiz.” You huff, using all your weight to try and free yourself. 

“No, let me apologize to you.” He insists. You feel your heart rate pick up and in an instant you spin, startling Eddie with your fast movement. 

“Do you think this is funny, Eddie?” You spit, brows furrowed, face flushing hot in anger.

With his mouth pulled in a flat line, he shrugs. 

You know he's hardly phased by your spitfire and you step closer to up the ante. 

“No, seriously? Are you having fun, Eddie? Answer the question.” You say, burning your gaze into his. 

He doesn't indulge you in an answer, he just looks at you with round eyes. He doesn't cower, he doesn’t spit heated words back, he just remains looking at you with his stupidly big eyes. You're not even sure if his disposition is meant to soothe you, but it does and you hate it. It irons out nearly every wrinkle of anger and you hate it. 

“I know none of this matters to you, Eddie, but it matters to me.” You say, mustering up every blazing emotion you have left in you but it comes out too gentle to be anger.

“What matters to you?” He asks quietly, his face softening, eyes getting impossibly rounder. His grip on your wrist loosens as he steps closer to you. 

You press your lips closed, breathing deeply to compose yourself. Your sentiment is ambiguous, you recognize that. Whether is was purposeful or not is a mystery to even you. You wouldn't admit this matters, whatever this is between you and Eddie, never. You couldn't.

Even if you didn't leave space for ambiguity, you know what he's asking right now. Does he matter to you, does this matter to you?

“School, idiot.” You say quietly. You cover ambiguity by shutting him down and embellishing it with an insult. It's a lie, you both know it. It’s an orchestrated move at this point; he steps right, you step left.

He moves in closer to you, toe to toe, his chest less than arm's length away. His grip on your wrist slides down, stopping just before your palm, inches away from being a hand hold.

“You're only upset because I took you away from your quiz?” He asks quietly, amusement hinting in his tone. His eyes flicker to your lips.

“Yes.” You reply flatly. You lick your lips instinctively and you mentally scold yourself.

“No, you're not.” He laughs softly, eyes only watching your lips now. “You're really that desperate to finish a math quiz?” He asks, amusement becoming forthright.

He does think this is funny and it makes your blood boil. 

“Stop doing that.” You sneer but it comes out weak.

“Stop doing what?” He asks, eyes still unmeeting of yours.

His overconfidence and arrogance buzzes around in your head, spurring on your anger. You feel cornered by him calling your bluff and nothing good has ever come from that, especially when your heart is beating so fast you can't hear your own thoughts.

“Assuming you know me, Eddie. You don’t.” You snap, hammering your words into him like nails in a coffin, punctuating your words with a tug of your wrist but his grasp hardens, not letting you go.

He finally looks up at you, eyes meeting your gaze and you can tell your words stung by the mirrored reflection of hurt. He looks taken aback. Whatever he thought was about to happen, you pulled it out from under him like a mean trick and hurt switches to anger.

“So you’re really only upset because you’re here?” He scoffs, brows pinching.

“I just fucking said that.” You spit back.

“And you’re not at all upset because I didn’t pick you up this morning?” And that's all he has to say to send you into a flighty panic. You won't look truth in the eye, you can't.

“Eddie. Let go.” You seethe, tugging your wrist harshly. You bring your other hand to his in an attempt to pry his fingers off. His grip isn’t enough to hurt you, it’s simply unrelenting, a desperate attempt to finish this conversation.

"Princess—" He starts but you interrupt him, not wanting to hear anymore, not wanting to give him another opportunity to throw your own feelings in your face.

"Let go." You say, your volume raising out of desperation.

“Fine. Just fucking relax for a minute, Jesus Christ.” He groans, when you start swatting at his forearm. His own annoyance rises and it pisses you off because what does he have to be annoyed about? He’s not the one that got stood up. 

“I am relaxed!” You shriek, squeezing your eyes shut and stamping your foot. 

Eyes still closed, you listen to your own voice echoing off the walls, forcing you to hear yourself. It sounds like a reverb of hurt between the two of you. Despite the meaningless message your words attempt to convey, it sounds like a slip of honesty, a slip of your true feelings and how he’s affected them. It sounds tears short of being an angered cry.

A beat passes before the echoes subside, leaving the two of you in silence.

“Princess.” Eddie whispers softly. His voice isn’t loud like yours, it doesn’t vibrate off the walls but it still echoes in your consciousness, occupying a space hugged tightly next to your heartbeat. 

You feel fingertips ghost over your cheeks, delicate in nature despite residing in the antagonistic warland that you and Eddie have fostered together. Your heart catches in your throat and you hate it. 

Your face pinches in its default anger. You ready yourself to scold him, but when you open your eyes and all you see is soft, warm brown staring back at you, it doesn’t come. You hate it. 

He closes his grasps on your face, both hands holding you gently by the jaw. Both hands.

Your wrist set free, you pull away, storming back down the stairs. He steps forward, you run away— another orchestrated move.

Hearing yourself is too much, you need air. You need somewhere where your own thoughts can't reverb like your words against cement and linoleum. You need something to get you thinking straight.

Scuffing sneakers echo behind you as you clear the staircase, cross the foyer, and push open the door to the parking lot. You expect a hand around your wrist again but it doesn’t come. 

You slow to a walk and so does he, his steps crunching on the pebble covered pavement as he trails behind you quietly.

You round the corner of the building before leaning against the wall, expectant hand held out towards Eddie.

He tentatively raises his arm, fingers grazing yours, palm just barely ghosting your own, before you smack him away.

“No you idiot, cigarette.” You say, exhaling deeply. 

He mumbles an embarrassed apology before digging through his pocket.

“Here.” He says quietly, passing over his carton of camels.

You pull one out, placing it between your lips, Eddie’s eyes watching your every move. Flickering the lighter that was tucked into the empty space of the box, you light it up, smoke pluming from the corners of your lips as you take your first drag. Eddie swallows harshly, lost in thought.

“Well?” You snap, his eyes fleeting back to yours. 

“R-right. I’m sorry I didn’t pick you up this morning, princess. I’m really really sorry.” He says softly, strumming the chords of your heart with his words. You hate it.

“Why should you be sorry about that, I didn’t want you to anyways.” You say, trying to sound indifferent. You don’t though. You hear your own voice just like you did in the stairwell and you sound like a little kid who hasn’t quite mastered the art of fibbing. It’s a jejune lie, not even a good one.

“I said I would though, and I didn’t. I’m sorry.” He says, round eyes set on you.

The sun glimmers against his hair making the wavy brown strands look golden, a perfect match to the gold in the eyes staring at you right now.

He’s genuinely sorry, you believe him, and you hate it.

Continuing on your juvenile streak, you pocket his lighter before handing back his carton. You know he sees you do it but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Whatever, Eddie.” You mumble, taking a drag from your cigarette. 

You let your head fall against the brick behind you, eyes scanning thoughtlessly over the surrounding thick tree line. Eddie takes a step, his shoulder hitting the wall as he leans against it, still facing you. 

“Don't you wanna know where I was?” He asks carefully, a testing tease lingering around his words.

“Not really, but I have a feeling you’re gonna tell me anyway.” You retort, folding your arms over your chest, your burning cigarette skillfully held out to not get ash on yourself. Eddie exhales a light laugh before leaning into you. 

“Well, princess.” He starts, leaning in even closer. “I accidentally slept in because I was too busy staying up all night thinking about this girl who gave me the best head of my life.”

“Gross.” You scoff, hiding your smile by taking another drag.

“Fuck yeah. It was certified sloppy toppy. I think I was reborn yesterday, died and got as close to heaven as I ever will.” He says, body twisting so his head knocks against the brick wall dramatically. 

“Now you're just sucking up.” You grimace, taking another drag.

He laughs softly before the both of you fall into a quiet lull. You partially expected him to make some kind of joke out of ‘sucking up’ but he doesn’t. Only the sound of trees blowing in the wind can be heard, along with scattered chirps of birds in the distance.

“Are you still mad at me?” He asks, breaking the silence. You let your eyes flicker to him before focusing back on your barely burnt cigarette. You drop it, stomping it out under your shoe. It was a waste of a cigarette, but Eddie doesn’t say anything.

“I wasn’t mad at you.” You reply, facing towards the tree line again. 

“Okay, princess.” He sings, clearly not believing you. “But everything aside… we’re good?” He asks, watching you carefully.

“Eddie.” You exhale. That’s a big thing for him to ask of you and he doesn’t even realize it. How can you say that everything between the two of you is good when… What even is there between the two of you? Are you even friends? It's another truth you're not willing to face.

“Princess, tell me we’re okay or else you’ll keep me up another night.” He says, slouching his shoulders. 

“You’re being dramatic.” You laugh. He steps closer to you, hand raising and grasping a piece of your hair. You watch in your periphery as he swirls it between his fingers.

“I’ll never get another wink of sleep, I’m begging you. Tell me we’re okay or tell me how to fix it.” He says, tiptoeing even closer to you.

“Eddie.” You laugh again, shaking your head. The hair between his fingers falls but he’s quick to reach for the strands that fell into your face, skillfully tucking it behind your ear.

“All I’m asking for is your forgiveness. What d’you say, angel?” He whispers. You turn your head, looking at him skeptically with raised brows. 

“Angel? I think that’s hardly a fitting name.” You scoff.

“Trust me, it’s fitting. After last night.” He says, hand retreating from you to grab his heart dramatically, throwing his body back against the brick wall in a swoon. 

“Suck up.” You say trying to hide your amusement. You watch him as he continues his antics, biting your lip to hide your smile. 

He turns to you, looking up through his lashes, feigning a faux innocence.

“So what d’ya say, princess?" He questions, quirking a brow at you. "Want me to kiss it better?” He asks with a deep grin, eyes amusedly awaiting your response. 

You pause, not necessarily thinking about his offer but more so distracted by the way the sun reflects off of his eyes making them glow golden again.

He takes your pause as a yes, stepping into you, hands grabbing behind your ears, cradling your neck. He presses sloppy kisses all over your cheeks and up to your forehead, all while you protest through giggles. It’s sickeningly sweet. Truly sickening. You hate it.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Why’d you ask my friends where I was yesterday, princess? Are you, like, obsessed with me?” Eddie mocks into your ear startling you.

“Oh no.” You groan to yourself, flashing Nancy a preemptive apologetic look. 

“Princess, d’ya happen to have a lighter? Mine seems to have gone missing.” He says, moving on from his original remark, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. 

“No, sorry. I don’t smoke, it’s a dirty habit.” You say flatly, keeping your focus on your lunch and Nancy sitting across from you.

“Oh, that’s crazy I could have sworn I saw you hanging out in the back of the school with some guy smoking earlier? I must have been mistaken.” He says, arm wrapping around your shoulder as he throws one leg over the cafeteria bench, straddling it. 

“We weren’t ‘hanging out’.” You scoff.

“Right, right. I was groveling, my bad, princess.” He laughs. 

You look up at Nancy and she’s shaking her head, lips pursed tightly, holding back her ‘I-told-you-so’ smile. Eddie doesn't typically bother you at lunch, so to Nancy, this very much looks like him 'getting worse'.

“Eddie, don't you have somewhere else to sit?” You say, shrugging his arm off your shoulder. 

“What? Can’t come have lunch with my girl?” He teases, scooting closer to you, his knee pushing against your thigh, your shoulder practically resting against his chest. 

“I just barely forgot about the stunt you pulled earlier, you’re pushing your luck, Munson.” You warn.

“Don’t call me that.” He says flatly.

“Munson? That’s your name, isn’t it?” You laugh.

“Nope, not to you it isn’t.” He replies flatly, grabbing a grape off your lunch tray before you can stop him. 

“Is there a reason you’re here?” You say, his arrogance pinching at your agitation.

“Lighter.” He sings, eyes sparkling with amusement meeting yours, stealing another grape in the process. Turning his head, he focuses on Nancy. “Wheeler, how’s it going?”

“Good.” She laughs, still shaking her head. 

“Heard you tattled on me to Princess.” He says, eyebrows raised, a smile playing on his face.

“Eddie, leave her alone.” You huff. You feel his hand raise up your back, settling slowly, before rubbing back and forth. He leans in closer to you, face brushing against your hair.

“Gotta share the attention sometimes, princess.” He whispers just loud enough for you to hear. His breath tickles the shell of your ear and you feel your heart rate pick up.

You sit up straighter, Eddie’s chin knocking into your shoulder as you reach into your front pants pocket.

“Lighter. There. Leave.” You say, finding his free hand to push it into his hold. 

“Good girl.” He teases, quickly pulling you closer to him with a hand on your waist, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

You feel yourself burning hot and it takes everything in you not to hit him back with some sort of insult but you know if you do he’ll just stick around for longer. 

He gets up from the bench with a coy wave of his fingers and a polite nod to Nancy, disappearing into the crowd of the lunch room.

“Nancy, if you say ‘I told you so’, I swear to god.” You say, holding back your smile as you watch your friend’s eyes burst with amusement. 

“I wasn’t going to say I told you so!” She laughs. 

“I can see it in your eyes Nancy, I know you’re dying to say it.” You reply.

“I won’t say it… but I will say that you’re blushing pretty hard right now.”

“Out of embarrassment! That was embarrassing, Nancy.”

“People aren’t usually that smiley after being embarrassed.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Eddie kept his eyes on the prize all night. Not in a creepy way, just to make sure you were okay… and because he just liked looking at you. You were making it awfully hard though, the way you kept disappearing between the groups of people occupying Harrington’s infamous Saturday night party. 

His goal was to sell what he needed to sell, then he could have his fun. So when he sold his last eighth, his heart rate picked up as he bounded through the waves of people to find you. 

He would be lying if he said he didn’t get a pang of nerves when he finally found you, all alone in the kitchen, getting yourself a drink. 

Steve decided late Friday night that the party was on. He called you up and from there you called Nancy. It’s a practiced drill at this point, Steve calls a few people, who call a few more people, and the word gets around pretty quickly. Eddie got news that night, and it was a given he would sell. He always sells at Harrington parties, similar to how you’re always drinking at them. 

“All your friends scurry off on you, Princess?” An all too familiar voice says right into your ear.

“No.” You say flatly, turning to see Eddie at your side. 

“That’s funny, I only see you.” He says, eyes teasingly looking around you before settling back to meet your gaze.

“You should get your eyes checked, there’s like 20 other people in here.” You say, motioning to all the other bodies occupying the room. 

“You know what I mean.” Eddie says, hip bumping yours gently as you pour from a bottle of something highly alcoholic into your cup. 

“Do I?” You laugh before quickly shooting back your drink. 

“Look at her, she’s a professional.” Eddie teases as you scrunch your face through the burning sensation in your throat, some of the liquid spilling down the corners of your lips from your overzealous tilt of the cup. Without as much as a second though, Eddie’s hand raises to you, wiping your chin dry. 

“Why are you so nice now?” You ask, leaning closer to him so he can hear you over the music. 

“I’m not.” He smiles, eyes leaving yours to watch as you set the empty cup down on the counter. He knows he’s lying, you both do. 

“Is it because I sucked your dick?” You giggle.

You take another step closer to him where he leans against the counter. His eyes meet yours again with a mixture of amusement and shock looming on the surface of his gaze.

“You’re more drunk than you look, princess” He holds your gaze, amusement taking the reigns until his eyes lower to the short distance you’ve created between the two of you. 

“I’m not drunk.” You scoff, rolling your eyes. Eddie watches you, you can tell he’s smiling and you’re not even looking at him. 

“Where’s Wheeler gone? You were with her all night.” He asks, changing the subject. You turn your head, meeting his gaze, lifting your eyebrows as you decipher his question. 

“You were watching me all night?” You ask teasingly, a smile playing on your lips. 

“Princess.” He exhales, rolling his own eyes jokingly. The way his little nickname for you rolls off his tongue makes your already dizzy head spin. 

“She went upstairs with Steve.” You answer, letting your hand rest on the counter, pinky brushing the material of his jeans where he leans against the marble countertop. 

“I hope she’s not as drunk as you are.” He replies, eyes on your fingers as you continue to brush them against him. You shake your head. You could tell him that their rendezvous was premeditated, and a recurring pattern between the two, but you don’t want to talk about them. 

“Aren’t you just the sweetest? First you took care of me when I was sick, now you’re looking out for my friends. Such a sweet boy.” You coo, leaning into Eddie, removing your hand from the countertop and placing it flat on his chest to stabilize yourself. 

“Baby, I think you're too drunk, look at you being sweet.” He laughs and you dip your head, hiding the way his words affect you. You’re always ‘princess’, never ‘baby’. It makes your heart beat faster and your skin prickle.

You can’t help but notice how he doesn’t touch you though. He’s always poking and prodding at you in one way or another. Last time you saw him, he was all hands and kisses to your cheeks, but now, nothing.

“Did you make a lot of money tonight?” You ask, stepping in closer to him, your thigh pressing into his as you stand beside him.

“I did good enough.” He shrugs, arms staying closely to his sides and it almost makes you want to pout. He should be grabbing your hand or twirling your hair, doing what he always does. 

“You were busy all night.” You mumble, your head down, watching as you kick at his shoe before stepping over it with one foot. Still leaning against the counter, he shifts, arms moving at his side and you almost get excited before you realize he's just crossing them over his chest. You lower your hand, sitting it closer to his hip as you move to stand directly in front of him. 

“You were watching me all night?” He mocks, copying your same lilt.

“I set myself up for that one didn’t I?” You whisper, head down. He’s still not touching you.

“You did.” He replies, exhaling a laugh. You rest your other hand on his crossed arms, hoping he’ll get the hint but he doesn’t and you sigh, slouching into yourself. 

“What’s wrong, princess?” He asks, quietly.

“You.” You reply flatly. 

“Yeah, but you’re all pouty. You don’t pout. You scowl. Yell. Threaten violence.” He teases gently, dipping his face enough to meet your gaze. 

“You’re not touching me.” You mumble, words so quiet you can barely hear them yourself over the blaring music.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, leaning his ear closer to you. You step in closer to him, pushing your way between his legs.

“I said, you’re not touching me.” You grumble, annoyed that you have to repeat yourself. Even more annoyed when he hears you and still doesn’t touch you. You huff, pushing your body flat against his, but he stops you, hands on your shoulders holding you away from him.

“Princess, I can’t. You’re drunk.” He says firmly, serious eyes meeting yours. Your knee shakes as you try to stop yourself from stomping your foot. 

“You can. You just want to piss me off.” You say, funnelling all of your emotions and forcing them into a short lived anger. 

“Trust me, that’s not why.” He says softly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your shoulders. You happily focus on his simple caresses on your bare skin, but the feeling it gives you just leaves you wanting more.

“You're touching me right now, Eddie. Just keep doing that.” You whine, giving him your best pout paired with doe-eyes. His gaze soften, eyes fluttering over your features.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” He says, flashing you a small smile.

“You like it though, that’s why you keep coming back.” You whisper. Eddie’s mouth pulls in a flat line and you think you might have said something wrong. His grip on your shoulders falls and you’re sure you did.

You’re sure you did until you feel his hands meet your waist, pulling you towards him. Your hands slip up his chest and around his neck and you hug yourself to him tightly. You absorb every ounce of him you can, every inebriated sense of yours captivated and buzzing with feelings and flutters. Even through the thump of the bass vibrating throughout the kitchen, you swear you hear his heart, or maybe it’s yours, either way it doesn’t matter because Eddie Munson is holding you just like you wanted him to. 

“I was waiting for you to come find me.” You whisper into the skin peeking out of the collar of his shirt as you press your head to his shoulder.  

In the bustling of the party, you stand chest to chest, arms wrapped around each other like this was the only way things were meant to be. He responds to you through the movement of his hands, rubbing up and down your back, touching you, just like you asked. Soothing you like you didn’t know he could. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Eddie, you’re not doing it right, you’re supposed to just come in. I’m not supposed to have to ask you.” You whine. 

“Princess, I can’t.” He says, smiling as you try to tug him through the front door of your house. 

“You can, you did it before, remember?” You say, giving him your best pout.

“You were sick.” He says, amusement twinkling in his eyes as he stands firmly outside, your tugs not making him budge in the slightest. 

“I'm going to be sick right now, if you don’t come inside.” You whine, punctuating your words with little stomps of your feet.

You may have taken a few more shots after Eddie broke up your hug earlier. You knew you had him at that point so maybe you took them just to spite him. It made sense at the time and as the night progressed, you were right. He was by your side the whole time, never more than an arm's length away. And when it was time to go home, you didn’t even have to ask, he was already offering you a ride and guiding you to his van.

“Princess, you’re killing me.” He says exasperatedly through a smile before stepping into the doorway. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Jesus, just drink the water, princess.” Eddie laughs. 

“I’ll do it if you lay down with me.” You say stubbornly. He shakes his head and you drop yourself down onto your pillow. “Please, Eddie. Please.” You plead, your eyes catching the dizzy image of him in the lowlight of your room.

“Drink the water and I’ll think about it.” He says sternly.

“Lay down and I’ll think about it.” You mock, copying his tone.

“You are so…” He laughs, trailing off.

“Good at giving blowjobs?” You giggle, filling in his sentiment. His gaze drops to the floor as he sits on the edge of your bed, shaking his head in disbelief of the moment. 

“I was gonna say ‘impossible’.” He corrects with a laugh. 

You furrow your brows. In attempts to prove him wrong you sit up, taking the water from him and silently finish it small swallow by small swallow until your belly feels impossibly full of water. 

“Done.” You huff, falling back to your pillow dramatically. 

“Good.” He says, hand patting your calf that’s sprawled against the comforter next to him. 

“No. Good girl.” You say, correcting him through giggles. He squeezes your calf, before sitting up enough to put the glass down on your bedside table. 

“Good girl.” He says to appease you, smirk heavy in his features. 

“Was I good enough for you to lay down?” You ask, flashing him innocent eyes. He exhales deeply and even in your spinning state, you know he’s weighing his options. His eyes track the span of the bed before looking back at you, seriousness written across his features.

“No funny business.” He says firmly, making sure to make eye contact so you know he’s serious.

“No funny business.” You agree, nodding your head waiting for him to give in. 

“Only for a few minutes. Sober you wouldn’t want me here.” He says, removing his jacket and tossing it to the floor.

“Yes she would.” You mumble with a pout but quickly get excited when Eddie starts shuffling to lay down. You prop yourself up ready to cozy into him but he stops you.

“Nuh-uh. On your side of the bed, princess.” He says, motioning for you to lay back down. You throw yourself to the mattress with a whined cry. 

“You’re no fun.” You huff, whine building in your chest.

“I’m not here to have fun, princess. This is serious business.” He laughs. 

You continue pouting on your side of the bed, turning enough to watch as Eddie settles into your mattress. His hair sprawls over your pillow, just like before, his throat bobbing as he swallows before turning his head to you.

“Go to sleep.” He says and your jaw drops. His lips curl into a smile, eyes dancing in amusement. 

“You’re mean, you couldn’t even say goodnight? Just go to sleep?” You shrill, trying to focus your gaze on Eddie to get your glare across. 

“Go to sleep.” He repeats, smirking as he reaches his arm to your bedside table, switching the light off, leaving you both in the low glow of the moonlight that sweeps in through your half open curtains. 

“Eddie, I can’t unless you say it nicely.” You argue.

“Princess. Please go to sleep.” He says with teasing lilt.

“No.” You giggle.

“I said it nicely, c’mon princess.” He groans.

“Eddie.” You whine, hearing the annoyance in his voice.

“Princess.” He mocks.

You scan your eyes over him, the low light helping you find where his hand lays at his side. Quietly, you tiptoe your fingers across the mattress until you brush against his hand. Before you can close your grasp, he rips it away with a tut. 

“Eddie, I held your hand when you wanted me to.” You whine.

“That was different.” He replies.

“No it wasn’t! Just hold my hand.” You say, pushing yourself up to try and grab his hand where it lies on his stomach now.

“Lay back down.” He laughs pulling himself further away from you. You drop yourself to the bed, your bottom lip quivering. It’s not for dramatics though, you know Eddie wouldn’t be able to see it.

“No. I’m tired of doing this, I just want you to hold my hand.” You whisper back. Eddie says some kind of teasing response but you ignore it, feeling too lost in the spinning of your head. 

In your current state, you feel a lot of things. Most importantly, you’re confused. These nights usually end with Nancy and Steve. Eddie's existence would have never even crossed your mind, but now, all you want is to be close to him. It doesn’t help that he’s been making you practically beg for his attention all night. It might seem sudden, but it doesn’t come as a surprise to you when you feel your eyes grow wet. Your breathing starts to come out in harsh whines from your stomach that get caught in your throat.

When the first tear falls it feels catastrophic. It feels destructive, disastrous even. It feels like a break in your guard and you aren’t quick enough to catch it. There’s no snark left in the world that could patch this up right now. So you hide.

Pushing your face into your pillow, your tears free fall.

You feel shifting on the bed and you push your face further into the pillow.

“Are you crying?” Eddie asks softly, sounding closer to you now.

You don’t offer a response, your throat feels too tight to speak. You feel like you’re drowning in more than just tears.

“Princess, don’t cry.” He replies gently, all teasing gone from his voice. “I’ll hold your hand, here.” He finds your hand, taking it in his but it’s too late. The floodgates are open, set on their path of destruction, open to exposing damage.

His hand wraps around yours and you feel small. Not because of the size difference but because there’s a reason you don’t show these feelings. There’s a reason it’s easier for you to scowl and yell. This side feels too bare, too soft, too uncomfortable. It’s unfamiliar and scary. It feels like offering yourself up to impending disappointment. It feels like waiting for someone to pick you up and they don’t. 

He pulls your hair, you pull his back. He stands you up, what can you do besides pretend it didn’t hurt?

You should yell, you should scold, you should threaten violence. You should tear your hand away, kick him out.

But you don’t. You couldn’t, not anymore. Not right now.

You just want Eddie, all games aside. You want him in the silence of the night, not through the bass of the music where one of you has to move left while the other moves right. You don’t want to dance the line of whatever this is anymore. 

You pull his hand, willing him to come closer, a silent plea through your tears, and he does. He shifts closer until you're pressed to him, your intertwined hands hugged between your chests as his other hand wraps around you, resting against your back. He soothes you with quiet promises of everything being okay intermixed with his own apologies that only make you cry harder. 

Maybe you’re not the whole reason that you two have ended up here, but you’re half of it, and it takes two to play this game. If you tap out, you’re half of the way to it being over.

If you walk away and he follows, isn’t that just the game changing again? A game of cat and mouse?

Maybe all these metaphors are stupid. Maybe they’re all a figment of your imagination that blossomed as a child from the first time he pulled your hair. Maybe you’re too old for these playground antics. Maybe you’re too old to not say how you feel. 

“I was sad when you didn’t come to pick me up.” You whisper, your sob-filled secret sailing into the darkness of the room as if his chest wasn’t there to catch your secret. 

Your words are as much for you as they are for him, you couldn’t admit your hurt before, but now you do. 

Truth tastes soft in your mouth, not at all like the burn of alcohol you’ve drowned yourself in. It’s not sweet, it doesn’t fix everything, it just creates a storm in your belly. A fight between everything you know, everything you’ve done, and something new. It’s unnatural, it makes you feel sick. 

“I know, princess. I’m sorry.” He whispers in return, his hand rubbing against your back. You imagine with every pass of his hand on your back he’s helping you fight the furries of the storm rising inside of you, but with the storm rising, there is nowhere else for these feelings to go but up. 

“I don’t want you to say sorry, I just don’t want you to do it again.” You cry.

Your throat constricts as you feel bile rising. 

“I won’t. I promise, okay?” He says softly. His words would have eased every metaphorical storm inside you, but this storm has turned literal, you’re about to vomit.

“Eddie, I'm gonna be sick.”

It’s a rush of limbs and a dash down the hall. Everything pours from you, every uncried tear, every burn, every furry, every roar of the storm. Everything you know, everything you’ve done, it all leaves you. And in its wake all you have left is Eddie’s hand rubbing your back, telling you it’s okay. It’s soft and unnatural but you let it absorb you entirely. It burrows into you, finding a place you never knew existed, a place where softness thrives and doesn’t need to be hidden by the guise of anger and indifference.

Eddie brings you back to your bed and in the silence of the night, apologies and promises lay side by side, holding hands. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

[asumofwords]

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Common Factors - Michael Gavey x Reader

Synopsis: Part 2 of Midpoint, though can be read as a standalone. Michael Gavey asked you out for a drink and you had surprisingly agreed. Will you be able to tolerate each others wit without bickering, or will you lose yourself to him once more?

Warnings: This fic is 18+, readers discretion is advised. Public fingering, teasing, degradation, name calling, voyeurism, dumbification, finger fucking, biting, bratty reader. This is porn with barely any plot.

Word Count: 6k

Notes: Hello my angels, I know you have all been waiting so patiently for part two of Midpoint and here it is! Now I can't say that there will be a third/final chapter, but I may have ideas for it. No promises though. Saltburn has made me so nostalgic, I miss MSN messenger and MySpace. I miss the early 2000s so much, the tackiness of it, how everything was just to the max. Lmao. I also miss Tamagotchis. *Sigh*, nostalgia. Anywayyyyy, thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy! <3

Part 1 - Midpoint

When Michael had asked you out for a drink, or rather asked if you wanted to get a drink, it was not really a distinct question of going on a date with him or not, and perhaps you were arguing semantics right now, but that was besides the point.

He had thought that you would go right after your little event in the library. His eagerness was riddled by anxiety, clear for anyone, not that there was anyone in the vicinity, to see or hear, you hoped. 

You had shifted awkwardly for a moment, feeling his spend slide down you thigh in the large hole he had ripped in your stockings, explaining that you wouldn’t be able to go that evening.

He wilted.

It strummed a cord in your chest, and so you quickly explained that it was because of said issue between your legs, and not that you didn’t want to see him again. The fire in his eyes lit up again, and for a moment, the hair on the back of your neck stuck up. It felt as if you were about to be confronted once more by his obnoxious spite, though thankfully, and only because of your quick explanation, did he soften and you exchange details for your respected MSN Messenger accounts. 

The night after he was busy, apparently there was some sort of important chess tourney that he would be going to with his friend, you were unaware that he had any, and so he proposed the night after. But the night after you had told your best friend that you would bus into the city centre to meet with her, so that was no go as well.

You both thankfully settled on the Friday later that week, agreeing to meet at the small pub you frequented, which you found he did too. Each time the computer dinged at his reply, a thrill of excitement crawled through you. He was rather curt in his messages, but eager, and would often would send moving emojis at the end, which you saved and would send back.

Friday rolled around quickly, and you found yourself eager to see him again. You spent a solid two hours fretting over what to wear, deciding that pants or tights were not an option this time despite the cold weather.

You settled on a cute little outfit, the skirt of it coming to your mid thigh, looking at yourself in the mirror as you left before triple checking your computer and Nokia for any messages to say he was late, or couldn’t come, but none came. The last message he had sent to you, was a smiling thumbs up that moved largely across your screen agreeing to see you at 7pm sharp. 

You left early, earlier than what was needed, and sped walked the entire way to the pub, pulling your large jacket tightly around you, scarf covering the lower half of your face. The air was particularly crisp that evening, and by the looks of it, it may snow later, and although it was quite cold, you could see from afar that the pub was full, the winter air not deterring them. 

When you opened the door, the stale stench of its beer soaked floorboards filled your senses, loud music and even louder people, drinking and smoking and laughing in large groups without any care for the world. You knew that break would soon enough be coming to an end, and all the students would now be slowly making their way back, spending their last days or weeks of break with friends on campus and the establishments surrounding. 

The air inside the venue was stuffy, and almost wet with condensation, and as you rose on your tip toes, looking over the heads of others at their tables, or at the bar, you struggled to spot the familiar sandy blonde hair from your library, and the glasses that sat perched on his sharp nose. 

You pulled out your Nokia, checking the time and also checking for any messages. 

It was 6:57.

You were early.

But not too early.

Heading straight for the bar, you ordered yourself a drink, eyes drifting back over the pub, looking at the faces to see if you could see him with anyone. When again, you didn’t spot him, you told yourself not to panic, and instead decided that you would find yourself a spot to sit. There was table in the far corner, away from most, its surface was cleared bar a half drunken pint, hidden in the shadows and pressed against the wall between two larger tables, filled with people. You paid for your drink, and headed straight for the empty seat, winding past the pulled out chairs and wafts of smoke.

You were halfway there when a figure popped into your periphery. Your eyes locked onto a pair of familiar blue ones, a twitching smile pulling at his sharp yet plump lips. He came towards you from the direction of the loo, and you watched as he wiped his hands down the sides of his pants despite them looking dry.

“Hey.” You smiled, stopping short of the table, to awkwardly look up at him as he made his way over.

“Hi.” 

You shifted awkwardly around each other before you leant forward to give him a hug, he wrapped one arm around you stiffly in reciprocation, before pulling back to straighten, eyeing the drink in your hand.

“You get me one?” Michael nodded his head to your drink.

Your brows furrowed softly, “Uh, no. I wasn’t sure if you were here.”

Michael hummed, “I’m never late.”

Here we go again, you inwardly sighed. This is just what you didn't need. Another run in with his attitude.

“I wasn’t to know that.”

Michael stared at you a moment longer before turning away to the bar. You watched him awkwardly, yet somehow confidently, move through what little people stood at the counter waiting, standing rod straight as he ordered himself another pint. As he waited, you took your seat on the side where the half drunk beer wasn’t, back to the wall and completely cornered in. 

When Michael came back, beer in hand, you let yourself graze your eyes over him. You couldn’t stifle the laugh that exploded from your lips. He frowned as he sat opposite you, a tinge of defensiveness showing on his strong features.

“What?” He almost sneered, watching as you brought a hand to your mouth to try and cover it up.

“I’m sorry,” You giggled again, having to look at the ceiling for two seconds, trying to compose yourself, pushing a breath out shakily, “Your shirt.”

You began to laugh again, watching him as he looked down at it, inspecting it for a stain or hole.

“What’s wrong with my shirt?” He asked clinically, not finding a rip or hole or bird shit which he had suspected was there for a moment on the material.

You bit your bottom lip and giggled again, “It’s awful.”

Tucked into his cargo pants and black leather belt was one of the worst shirts you had ever laid eyes upon. It was white, and in big font on the front, it read ‘Weapon of Math Instructions’. On it, small drawings of calculators, protractors, and sums surrounded the large font.

In a quieter voice this time, he replied, “I got it for my birthday.” He picked up the sweating beer to bring to his lips, the foam coating his mouth as he drank deeply.

You felt a tinge of regret for laughing at him so openly, even though it was admittedly the worst shirt you had ever seen, “Do you enjoy maths puns, Gavey?” You tried to sound flirtatious, but in the moment you sounded more unsure than anything.

Michael took the beer away from his lips, swiping the back of his hand against his mouth, “If they’re funny. Why?”

“Do you have more shirts like this?” You tried to contain your mirth and failed.

The curiosity melted away, and a stony expression slipped over his face, “You’re taking the piss.”

You shook your head, heart speeding up, “No! No, sorry, Michael. I swear I’m not, I just, I wanted to- I’m trying-“

“-For someone whose degree relies heavily on the english word, you sure do struggle to find them.” The smirk on his lips was a thinly thing that indicated that he was being playful, but if he hadn't of smirked, you wouldn't have known. His tone was flat, his body posture stiff, and not once did he laugh, but you knew him.

And it more intimate than you would have liked.

Tongue in cheek in you leant back in your chair, feeling a comfortable little bubble surround you, the tension that was there only simmering in the background now, and not drowning you in it.

“How was the chess tourney?” You took a sip from your drink as he watched you.

“Fascinating, if it’s something of interest.”

His answer surprised you,.

“And was it of interest?”

“TBD.”

You took another sip of your drink, “My nan used to play chess with me when I was little.” 

This seemed to peak Michael’s interest greatly, “You can play?”

You shook your head humbly, smiling, “I can play, though I’m probably not very good.”

“We should play.” His answer was so immediate, so abrupt, that you could only blink before remembering to reply.

“What, now?”

Michael raised his brows at you as though you were intellectually stunted, “Do you see any chess boards in this shit hole?”

You breathed sharply through your nose, “No.” You said more afronted than intended, “I was just asking-“

“-You ask a lot of questions but don’t know what ones you want the answers for.”

Annoyance began to bloom in your chest, “I thought we were done with this tit-for-tat nonsense. Or did you want a round two, Gavey?”

A soft blush spread across his cheeks, and you knew you had him.

“Are you going to ask me about my day?” You cheeked, enjoying the way he flustered slightly, and then held back an angry sneer.

“How was it?”

“How was what?”

Michaels jaw tensed, and you bit your inner cheek to not smile, “Your day.”

A large grin spread across your lips along with a false expression of realisation, “Oh, my day! My day was fine, thank you, Michael. I did some reading, I did some study, and then I got myself ready to have drinks with a right git.”

Michael sucked his teeth loudly, “You’re funny. Should be a comedian instead of studying them.”

“You’re cute,“ You countered, “Should smile more instead of sneer.”

“I thought you said we were done with this nonsense.”

“I did, and I am. Starting…. Now.” You smiled widely, bringing your drink up to toast. 

Michael looked at you oddly, then to the glass in your hand before finally he brought his up, connecting the two cups.

You smiled wider, proud to be ready to say something you know will interest him,“‘If you can’t explain it simply, you don’t understand it well enough.’”

Michael's glass slammed down onto the table, his body leaning towards you in palpable excitement, “How do you know that?” His voice was eager, like you had lit a flame inside of him.

You smiled smugly, sipping on your drink, proud of yourself to have garnered such a reaction, “Learnt it with my degree. Einstein wasn’t just a man of maths. He was an important part of modern history. Especially regarding his involvement, or I should say rather, his non-involvement in the Manhattan Project.”

Michael's eyes lit up behind his glasses before he picked up his beer and thrust it against yours again, “Glad they’re teaching you something of importance.”

You huffed and laughed and sipped, watching as Michael settled his chair closer to you. It felt as if a door had been opened, and suddenly you were able to step inside the world that was Michael Gavey.

“You know,” You smirked, feeling heat from him beside you, chairs still apart, but bodies leant towards each other, “Art and History is just as important as Maths and Science.”

Gavey looked as though you had declared that the Earth was flat. It was a peculiar little look that made you want to lean across the space and press your lips squarely against his.

“I’m being serious.” You continued, “Without art, without history, the world would be a lot more boring than it is now.”

Michael pursed his lips at you, “Whatever helps you rationalise your choice of degree.”

You sipped your drink, eyes watching him over the rim of your glass, “I’ll let that slide. Only because I know you like watching me get riled up.”

“You’re rather confident of yourself this evening.” He commented, his blue eyes gleaming behind his glasses.

“And you’re rather goading. Not that that’s out of the ordinary.”

His fingers strummed against the table as he looked at you, eyes roaming over your body, “You look nice.”

“I would say the same, but I hate lying, and that shirt is an abomination.” You teased, bumping your shoulder into his lightly.

He smiled.

When did it become this?

How did it become so easy for you to melt into this conversation with him of all people?

Only earlier this week the two of you were at each others throats, snarling and fighting, and now here you were, seated beside each other, making little jokes and sitting intimately close. 

“Careful. Tit-for-tat.” Michael warned you, and you rolled your eyes playfully with a huff.

It seemed to please him, and soon enough you were moving through a smooth conversation. He mostly asked you about your studies and friends, and even asked about your family.

And you learnt about his. A fairly standard, run of the mill family. One sister, and an older brother, had a dog growing up, and now has a fish. 

But soon enough the conversation drifted back to your studies.

“Are you looking forward to term starting again?” You asked.

You felt as though he would be, his desire for learning and studying was clear whenever he spoke about it. He was passionate, and it was something that you admired about him. Or at least, now you did.

Michael shrugged, “I’m looking forward to graduating.”

This confused you.

“Why?”

Michael frowned, “Why do you think? I’m second in our year, I barely need to study-“

“-All you do is study, Michael.”

“Because there’s not much else to do here, I don’t have friends like you do.” Michael sneered the word friends, and immediately you knew who he was referring to.

“Michael-“

“-It’s different for us. People who aren’t ‘in’. Theres no parties, or accolades, only our degree.”

“You know that I’m not-“

“-I know that you don’t think you are, but whether you like it or not, they consider you one of them.”

You frowned. You didn’t like hearing that, especially with what Farleigh had said to you. You hated it because whilst it was wrong, it was still true. You did get invited to the parties, you had them all on MySpace and MSN, and even had their numbers in your phone. But for you, it was different, and Michael knew it.

You pushed your tongue against the side of your mouth, “I’ll bring you as my plus one to the next party. Then you can see that you’re not missing out on much.”

“You’d be seen with me in public? With them watching?” He said it with a laugh, though it was entirely humourless.

Your head tilted to the side, “We’re in public right now, aren’t we?” You looked around the pub, watching the many faces around you before settling back onto his. His expression was unreadable, until finally-

“We are in public.” He smirked. Gavey downed the rest of his beer quickly, all but slamming his glass onto the table, though not loud enough to garner any attention from the other patrons.

Michaels hand grabbed the seat of your chair and pulled it roughly towards him. You let out a squeak of surprise as your seat shifted against the floor suddenly, almost making you lose your balance. 

“Michael!”

“What?” He asked innocently.

“What are you doing?” Your heart began to quicken, his hand coming down to brush against your thigh as he intently stared at you from behind his glasses.

“I’m not doing anything.” His hand inched higher, grazing your inner thigh.

In a small panic, you lifted your gaze to the rest of the pub. Not one person had looked up when he dragged you to him, nor had anyone taken even the slightest bit of interest about the two students hidden in the dark corner table. Everyone in the pub was drunk and too absorbed by their own conversations and friends to notice anyone else.

“What’s wrong?” Gavey teased, voice dipping lower as he openly mocked you, his pinky finger skirting against the edge of your panties. 

Your brain had short circuited itself.

You were in public.

Where anyone could see.

And Michael had his hand under your skirt, teasing you.

This was what not what you would have expected from the man who was currently wearing a maths pun on his shirt. Your hand dropped under the table and grabbed his wrist tightly, stopping him from moving it any higher, though this didn’t prevent him from continuing to run his pinky back and forth under the elastic of your panties.

Heat coursed through you, and your core clenched around nothing. 

“What are you doing?” You asked breathlessly, a rhetorical question really. You knew just as well as he did exactly what he was doing. 

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Gavey.”

“I’ll tell you what,” He smirked again, eyes locked onto your face, watching as you struggled internally, “You sit there and be a good girl for me, and when we go back to your room, I will give you what you want.”

You blinked.

Michael squeezed your thigh roughly, “Use your words.”

“Okay.” You breathed.

“Okay what?”

“Yes.” Your blood pumped loudly in your ears, air struggling to get inside of you as you squirmed in anticipation. 

“Yes, who?”

You wet your lips with your tongue, mouth suddenly feeling dry, “Yes, Michael.”

He could be so demeaning so quickly. Like a switch was flicked. He went from this awkward, sneering maths genius to a cold and domineering man who could pull any response he liked from you.

“Better.” He smiled, “Now,” Swiftly Michael tugged your panties to the tide, two fingers immediately grazing your centre. You jerked as he slowly dragged his fingers through your folds and up to your clit.

You were soaked.

“Tell me what they’ve taught you about Einstein, since you want to use his words as a toast.” He looked you in the eyes as your breath caught on itself, his fingers swirling around your bud slickly. 

Michael suddenly paused, stilling his fingers, “Unless you only used him to try and impress me?”

Irritation coursed through you alongside frustration, “I didn’t use him to im-“ Your voice stilted as he began to rub his fingers against you again.

“To what?” He mocked you.

“I-Impress you. We learnt abou-t him and his wife recently.”

“The wife he divorced?”

“Yes.” You grit through your teeth, pleasure winding powerfully through you. Your toes curled in your shoes, stomach clenching as his fingers dipped back down to your entrance, scooping up more of your slick to drag back to your bud. Your eyes flittered around the pub, checking nervously to see if anyone had noticed what was going on underneath the table. 

No-one had.

“Surely you can find the words to tell me more?” One long finger suddenly pressed inside of you, causing you to gasp loudly, hands gripping the edge of the table tightly, “Or are you dumb already?”

“H-his wife was a brilliant physicist,” You struggled to control yourself as he crooked the long finger inside of you, curling it up against your inner walls, “And a-a mathematician.”

“Was she now?”

“Yes. Mileva Marić. They were married for a decade, and he-“ All thoughts escaped you as Michael added a second finger with the first, the stretch pressing into you deliciously as he immediately hooked his digits. You blinked mouth agape whilst looking at him, feeling your face become flushed. 

His eyes were half lidded as he watched at you intently, watching your every reaction, testing and teasing to see what made you tick, eager to make you come undone.

This was affecting him as much as it was you. 

Only he didn’t care for others catching on.

His stare urged you to continue.

“H-he was cruel to her.” You muttered, brain struggling to catch up.

Michael hummed, “Most men of historical notice were. It was the norm.”

“It doesn’t m-mean that it was okay.”

“No. But a man such as him surely deserves more merit in your eyes.” As his fingers crooked into you, slowly rubbing the spongy patch inside, his thumb pressed against your bud, causing you to shift your hips towards him, grinding down on his hand as you breathed a breathy moan, “Einstein did things that no men could.”

“I-if it was all his w-work to begin with.” You argued weakly, unable to keep your voice sturdy.

“What do you mean?” Michael’s interest halted his hands movement, but this lapse in control only lasted a moment before he corrected himself and began again.

“M-Mileva scored higher than him in applied physics. Five to his one. I-It's believed she helped him complete equations that he couldn’t without the credit. I-It's why he promised her the money f-from his Nobel Prize.”

The mans fingers slowed down their ministrations as he digested your stuttered information, the coil within you already beginning to tighten, “Fascinating.” He breathed, edging closer to you, “Tell me more.”

“Many women-” Michaels thumb began to quicken, halting your thoughts abruptly, your hands still clutching the edge of the table, knuckles aching.

“Many women, what?” He parroted you meanly, “Don’t tell me you’re close already, are you?”

You swallowed thickly, not willing to open your mouth lest a moan or gasp fall out. Michael chuckled quietly, his fingers quickening the pace within, causing you to arch towards him and grind down against his hand again. His arm subtly moved against you, and if anyone in the pub looked, they would surely know what was going on.

“Look at you,” He cooed, his other hand brushing hair behind your ear, “Already so close.”

You whined, trying to shift closer to him and his hand, if that was even possible.

“Does it turn you on that I’ve got my hand in your cunt for all to see?” He purred, “If someone just turned around right,” His fingers pulled out from you momentarily, moving up to your clit where he pinched it between thumb and forefinger, causing you to jerk, “Now, and looked closely enough, they’d be able to see how you’re desperately grinding down against my fingers.”

Your core clenched around him at his words.

“Oh, you do like it.” He tutted, “Such a dirty little whore.”

You whined again, “Michael I-“

“Shhh, don’t you worry that pretty, little, empty head.” He cooed, emphasised by swift rubbing circles on your bud, “I’ll take care of you, but only if you behave.”

You nodded desperately, feeling yourself get closer and closer to the edge. You would do anything. You were desperate at this point. The week of waiting for him had filled you with anticipation, and meant you spent most of your nights with your fingers or vibrator between your thighs thinking about him and your last meeting in the library.

Michael watched you nod and grind down on his hand, his pace slowing so that you couldn’t get much out of it besides a slow and steady buzz of pleasure.

He seemed to think for a moment, deliberating, before an almost cruel smirk pulled at his lips.

“Do you know your times tables?” He asked, fingers almost still at this point, only languidly moving to keep you riled, or to remind you of what he was doing.

You could scarcely think, scarcely exist without feeling as though you were at any moment about to come undone, his hands keeping you just at the precipice. Your mind was hazy, and any and all thoughts of substance had seemed to escape you.

“Use your words.” He encouraged you in a demeaning manner.

“Y-Yes.”

“Good. Not just a pretty face then.” The backhanded comment could have made you smile, “We are going to play a game.”

Could have.

Your eyes widened slightly, hands dropping down to clutch the underside of the table, “A game?”

“Yes.” He gave you an encouraging smile, “Good job. A game.” He was treating you like you were a child who is only just beginning to understand a basic concept, “I’m going to ask you an equation, and you’re going to answer it. If you’re correct, you get a reward. If not,” He paused, fingers teasing you again, “You get punished. Do you understand? Or do I need to dumb it down for you?”

The way he was speaking to you, so meanly, so smugly, made you clench harder around his fingers.

You liked when he was mean to you.

“Answer me. Yes or no.”

“Y-yes.”

“Good girl. Alright,” His hand paused its movements, pulling his fingers out to just rest lightly against your bud, barely touching you, “What is the sum of seven times nine? I’ll use small numbers so that it doesn’t confuse you.”

Slowly, you did the maths in your head, “Sixty-three.”

Michael smirked, “Good girl.” You keened at the praise, and felt his fingers press a little harder into you, his movements beginning to start again slowly, though not enough to give you any pleasure.

“What is fifteen times six?”

Oh god. 

“Um,” You shifted, blinking rapidly to try and do the maths, but every time you got somewhere, Michael would press against you harder as if he knew, ruining your train of thought.

“Come on,” He teased with a swirl of his fingers, “That’s an easy one.”

-5 is 75, then-

“Ninety.” You gasped out.

“Good, good. So clever of you.” He cooed, though the sarcasm dripped from his lips. His fingers once again pressed harder, sparks of pleasure finally springing up inside of you. The sound of the pub was loud around you, and in the dim light, you could see that a blush had spread across his cheeks. 

“One more and then I’ll give you your reward. If you get it wrong, then you get nothing. Ready?”

You nodded shakily, chasing his hands with your hips. He tsk-ed you and stilled his hands, “Don’t be greedy.” You apologised softly and stilled, waiting for him to start again. 

"Twelve times seventeen.”

Oh God. 

What?

“M-michael, that’s not-“

“What? It’s easy enough. Even the thickest of people could get it. Though I suppose you’re getting all pretty and dumb for me anyway.”

“I-“

“How about this,” He smirked, and the way he did it caused you to sit on edge, “I’ll help you since you’re such a stupid little girl.” Michael plungers his fingers into you with no warning, immediately fucking them into you rapidly.

You sucked in air sharply, feeling the coil within begin to pull taught. 

“Twelve times fifteen is one-hundred-and-eighty. You need two more twelves. Do you know what two times twelve is?” 

Did you?

Jesus.

“I- It’s twenty four.” You answered shakily, surprised at your own voice.

“Twelve times seventeen?” He repeated the original question, “Oh dear, you really do have no brain.”

“N-No.” Your voice shook with how roughly and quickly Michael fucked you on his fingers, “Two times twelve.”

“Ah, clever little idiot. Go on now, what is one-hundred-and-eighty plus twenty-four.”

Your brain couldn’t do it, too hazy with how he was degrading you and how well he was touching you. You just wanted to cum. All you wanted was to cum. And then his thumb joined, swirling over your clit slickly as his fingers pistoned in and out of you, the sound of your wet rising from beneath the table. Your arousal pooled onto the back of your skirt and the wood of the seat.

“T-two-hundred-and-“ Michael pressed his thumb brutally against your clit suddenly, fire coursing through you, ruining your train of thought once again.

Damn him.

“Two-hundred-and what?”

Oh god.

“Two?”

Michael frowned at you, though you could tell that he was pleased, his fingers pulled away from you quickly, your eyes widening.

“N-No!” You grabbed his wrist keeping it against your inner thigh, his slick fingers pressing against your skin, “I-I-“

“Wrong answer.” He tutted, “You’re so fucking stupid. So fucking stupid and desperate, look at you.”

“Please, please,” You begged, clit throbbing, “I know- I know what the sum is. Please.” You pulled his hand back to your core, his fingers stiff as you ground against them desperately, “It’s two-hundred-and-four. Two-hundred-and-four. Michael, please.”

Michael’s fingers did not move, and watched you with entertainment as you desperately rubbed him against you. You needed to cum. You needed it. You didn’t care who saw. You didn’t care if it was degrading. You needed him. And you needed him now. 

“Look how fucking desperate you are.” He laughed, “So pathetic. Whining like a bitch in heat as you grind against my hand. Are you that desperate to be a little whore?”

“Yes. Please. Please, Michael. Please. I need it.”

“You need it?” He smirked.

You were so close, so so close, “Please, please.”

“Tell me you need me.” He breathed, face coming closer to yours, his breath fanning agains your lips.

You licked your lips again, swallowing thickly, “I need you.”

Gavey smiled toothily, “You’re so pathetic.”

And without a second thought, or really without even a first thought, you nodded in agreement, “I’m pathetic. Please. Please, Michael, I want you.”

“What will you do to get it?”

“Anything. Please.”

“Anything?” He asked again, eyes searching your face.

You nodded desperately, needing him more than you had ever needed something before “Please.”

“Okay.” His fingers slipped back into you as he breathed the word, almost as if he was bored, like fucking you with his hand in public was an all too boring affair.

Mundane.

Little to nothing coming out of it for him. But in that moment you didn’t care as the coil within began to wind again.

“Fuck.”

Michael leant forward, his lips beside your ear so that you could hear him clearly, “You’re going to cum on my hand in this disgusting little pub like the dumb, desperate, little slut that you are, and then you’re going to thank me for it. Understood?”

“Yes.” You whined, hand gripping his wrist as it pummelled into you, thumb brutally swiping your clit as his fingers brushed over the sensitive patch inside of you over and over. 

“You’re close already, aren’t you?” His lips brushed your neck, causing a shiver to roll through you.

“Fuck. Y-yes.”

Michael leant forward, his lips brushing against the skin beneath your ear, his sharp nose nuzzling into your hair before he bit down on you roughly, causing you to gasp. To anyone else in the pub it would have looked like an intimate gesture, a man trying to whisper something sweet into his dates ear, but to you, it was damning.

You were so close, so so close, and all it took was four little words to send you over the edge. Michaels tongue lapped at where he had bit you before he came back to your ear one last time.

“I own you now.”

Pleasure erupted through you, your release bursting from within. You jerked in your chair against him, tucking your head into the side of your neck as you hid your face, grinding down onto his had as you whimpered. Michael plucked pleasure from deep within you, his hand not once slowing, prolonging your orgasm. It was only when it began to subside did his hand slow as you breathed raggedly against his neck, slumped into your chair and against him.

Your heart thumped against your ribs as you panted, and gently Gavey withdrew his fingers from within you, a wince falling from your lips from oversensitivity before he pulled your panties back into place.

Michael cooed you gently, “Good job.” Almost inaudible in the loud of the pub, “So good f’me.”

Fatigue washed over you like a wave, crashing into you so fiercely that you didn’t have the strength to sit up yet. You were fucked out, mind thinking of absolutely nothing as you nuzzled your face into his neck further, breathing in his scent.

“Hm,” Michael hummed, “You still with us?”

You hummed back in reply dreamily, only moving back when Michael pulled you away, watching you with half lidded gaze as he looked over your disheveled form. Michael laughed again, eyes crinkling in the corners as he brushed his hand against your cheek. Your first thought was how pretty he was when he smiled, and then you felt the wetness of your slick clinging to your skin crudely. 

With a curious touch, Michael moved his fingers across your lips, the taste of yourself tart and warm as he caressed you. You opened your mouth for him and let his fingers inside, immediately tasting yourself as he rubbed his digits against your tongue slowly as you held your mouth open for him, drool beginning to pool at your bottom lip. 

“Such a good little girl for me, aren’t you?”

You nodded lazily, small smile flicking at the edges of your lips. Michael pulled his fingers from your mouth and used his thumb to smear the saliva that had pooled at your bottom lip over lips messily.

He tutted, “Dirty girl.”

“Mmm.” You hummed in content.

Michael eyed your half drank drink, nodding towards it, “Finish it.”

You did as he bid, brining it to your lips as you kept your eyes on him, swallowing it quickly before placing the glass back on the table, a warm fuzzy feeling slipping over you, a little space that was warm and safe and cozy. Then Michael stood, rather abruptly, like he had remembered that he forgot to turn the stove off, chair hitting the wall behind him as he looked down below at you.

“Time to go.”

You stood, on shaky legs to follow, adjusting your skirt sheepishly, knowing that there would be a damp patch at the back but not caring enough to hide it. In a way, you wanted people to know what had happened, and in some ways your wish had come true. 

A table in the middle of the pub nearby had half of its eyes on you, whispers and smirks shared amongst one another, watching as Michael grabbed your hand to lead you through the crowd roughly. Wolf whistles and hoot’s were called after you, followed by rambunctious laughter. You weren’t sure if they had seen what was happening under the table, but you were sure they had seen his fingers in your mouth. 

The door to the pub was swung open as Michael pulled you out sluggishly behind him. As you stood in the crisp air he spun you abruptly, grabbing your face as he pressed his lips to yours, his tongue immediately swiping against yours, trying to taste your essence that lingered there. Michael groaned into the kiss, pressing his body against you, where finally you could feel how much what had transpired had affected him. He pulled back, restraining himself as his sharp nose bumped into yours as he moved. 

And then he was gone, stepping away from you as he began to walk away. You stood dumbfounded as you watched him, snow beginning to fall from the sky. 

Do you go after him? Was this it? Did he just use you in the pub only to humiliate you out the front? 

A wave of confusion and hurt washed over you, but before it could turn to anger, he stopped and faced you again, a soft smirk on his lips.

“You coming? You said anything.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to any tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! <3

Taglist: @magnificentdelusionr @twglitching @fan-goddess @mydemimonde @itsshizyne @4v1d-m3t4l-3nj0y3r @liv-cole @lcecgg @sepherinaspoppies @marihoneywk @trashy-panda777 @bellaisasleep

[jamesbuckybarns]

Pass the happy! 🌻🌈 When you receive this, list 5 things that make you happy and send this to the last 10 people in the notifications.

oh thank you 🥺❤️

My niece

Singing in the shower

My friends

Shopping

My mutuals, of course 😌

[joemazzhello]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! Learn to know your mutual and followers!

the fact that i’ve just submitted an essay!!

a good book

joe and the borhap cast

going to the cinema

my cozy room with all my fairy-lights, posters, and books

thank you darling! sorry this took me so long, i’ve been working on an essay for two days 

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Rabbits Rabbits Rabbits

Happy September!

[mirkwoodshewolf]

What is this feeling; George Weasley x reader

*Author's note*

And here we are with the second fic of the day as part of the Sirius Black daughter story-plot. Hopefully soon I can get the chapter up where reader and Georgie boy FINALLY admit their feelings for each other then idk if I'll do the Post-war of Hogarts who knows but then that'll be it. Pictures and gifs below I DO NOT own I'm just using them for visual purposes. Enjoy my lovelies :)

Taglist:

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@waddles03

@plethora-of-things

@queen-paladin

@psychosupernatural

@remussl0vers

____________________________________________________

It was that infamous time of the year.  Not only was Hogwarts the host for the Triwizard tournament, but it was also the time for the Yule Ball.  That time when the boys get all awkward around the girls as they try to work up the nerve to ask a girl to go with them to the dance.  Or they become too egotistical and think charm and silver-tongue words will make us swoon.

It's also when the girls start going frantic about what dress they’re going to be wearing and hope they don’t buy the same dress as their friends or anyone else for that manner.  Meetings in dorm rooms about helping each other’s hair and makeup style.  You really can’t avoid the Yule Ball, no matter how hard you try.

I personally don’t have any grudges or hate against the ball itself.  I mean what girl doesn’t want to get dressed up and feel like a Princess in a fairytale? It’s just the pressure behind it all that I can’t get behind.

“Afternoon milady.” I turned and saw George leaning up against the corner pillar.

“Ahh I see that you’re back to your original self now. Or did you just dye your hair ginger to feel young again?”

“I take it you heard?”

“You’re lucky none of the Professors have heard of it yet. I warned you and Fred that aging potions are tricky if you don’t get….”

“The exact measurements right blah, blah, blah, blah we got it now.” I punched his arm.

“Watch it Weasley or I’ll slip that aging potion of yours into your morning drink. But this time I’ll make sure the effects last for a month.” That got him to shut his mouth.

“Anyways.” He cleared his throat.  “Besides our failed attempt to get into the Triwizard tournament, how was your dance lesson? I’m told Ravenclaws had the Room of Requirement today to discuss the ball.”

“It went just as well as I’m sure yours did. Except Professor Flitwick had two students come together and they just ended up falling flat on their faces. Note to self I’m not accepting Gale Turner’s invitation to the ball anytime soon. Bless him he may be Irish but he’s got two left feet.”

“Well I’ll have you know that during our dance lesson, Dear old Ronald had to get his lessons from Professor McGonagall herself. Had him touch her waist and everything.”

“Have some faith in your Professor. She was once a young woman once, and I’ll bet she was probably fairly pretty.”

“Oh no doubt. There’s actually an old portrait of her in our Common room.”

“Okay now don’t you start getting the weird fantasies there Georgie.”

“Great now my mind is forever stained with your accusations. I’d never do a thing like that!”

“Yeah sure whatever.” I let out a squeal as I was suddenly picked up and thrown over his shoulder.  He spun us around and I exclaimed as I slammed my fists against his back, “GEORGE PUT ME DOWN YOU BIG OAF!!”

“Big Oaf, them is fighting words there Black.” He playfully tried to drop me but I let out a shriek as I clung onto him.

“George!” he chuckled before finally setting me down but he kept his hold around my waist and I (strangely) kept my arms at the side of his neck.  You know I never really noticed this before but—George’s eyes really do seem to shine more in the light than Fred’s do.  It’s like they go from dark brown to an almost chocolate-hazel color.

And—have his shoulders always been this broad before? Guess being a Beater in Quidditch has it’s advantages. And his lips they were—DEAR MERLIN WHAT AM I SAYING!? Pull up pull up pull up now Seeker!

“I uhh….I better get my things for Potions class. Can’t afford another detention with Snape.” I cleared my throat as I backed away from George and gathered my things.  He knelt down and helped me and as we both reached for my journal and out fingers grazed each other’s, a sudden spark came over me.

A spark that had never happened before every time we’d hold hands.  We looked at each other wide-eyed before I collected my journal and bid George a goodbye before racing down the hallway.

What the bloody hell was that?

The next few days were all about girls being asked out to the Yule Ball and seeing the never-ending failed attempts for both Harry and Ron to get dates.  Those poor boys, they’re just thinking too hard.  I was heading towards my dorm room when I took notice of my roommate Luna Lovegood going through her trunk but once again she had no shoes on.

“The Nargals again Luna?” she slowly peeked over her shoulder and slowly sat up.

“Fraid so. This time all of my shoes have gone missing.” She answered in that wispy, dazed tone of hers.  It really was unfair that the school has deemed her ‘Looney Lovegood’, she just has her own way of seeing the world and shouldn’t be marred for it.  I even hear Hermione sometimes refer to her as such which is shocking coming from her.

“Isn’t there like a trap you could set out or something to catch them. I’d like to have a word with those pesky creatures for forcing you to go barefoot all the time.”

“It’s alright. I’m used to it.” I went over to my bed and immediately collapsed into it as I let out a heavy sigh.  “Something’s troubling you, you’re not as—vibrant as your aura usually is.”

“I don’t know, it’s so strange.” She suddenly appeared over me.

“Strange is an abstract word defined by many perspectives and intervals. You’re just as sane as I am.”

“I appreciate that thank you Luna.”

“My pleasure.” She gave me a soft smile before skipping off out of the dorm room to search for her missing shoes.  She really was a sweet girl, people should just look past her ‘looney-ness’ and really get to know her.  She does view the world in a way I never thought of before.  Kinda reminds me of that one muggle book umm…..Alice in Wonderland, yeah that’s it.

Later that day I was in the Great Hall during Free Period trying to get caught up on some homework when I noticed something from my peripheral vision.  I looked up and saw a paper-crane flying around my head before gracefully landing right in front of me.  I looked around before opening it up and there written was:

Meet me by the Fountain after free period.

R.W

Ron? What could he want from me? I looked up towards the Gryffindor table and saw him giving me a pleading look.  Bless him he truly was like a little brother to me so I gave him a nod and went back to my work.

Once Free Period was over, I went out to the fountain in the courtyard and waited.  And waited, and waited until finally Ron came out with a package of some kind.  He came over to me and I said to him.

“Next time Ron, don’t keep a girl waiting. It’s been 40min and you’re lucky I didn’t have any other classes today.”

“I know, I know I’m sorry. But I had to work up the courage to ask you something.” Oh no Ron don’t tell me you’re going to…..

“Okay….” I spoke hesitantly.

“I’m told you dabble in a bit of needle work and stitching.” Oh, oh thank Merlin! I was afraid I’d have to reject his offer to the Ball.

“I may dabble a bit of it yeah. Why do you ask?”

“I—don’t know if Fred or George told you, and I bloody hope none of them did, or worse Ginny. Can you do anything to fix this and make it appropriate?” he handed me the package and I set it in my lap.  I opened the lid and was greeted with a—well it was definitely a sight.

“Wow.” I breathed.

“Please tell me you can do something with this and make it more modern? Mum can’t possible think this is still the 14th century!”

“Ron…..I can mix potions to the proper brew, be the fastest on a broom and even transform into a puma at will. But I can’t work miracles.” I held his dress robes up but he quickly forced me to put it back into the box.

“Bloody hell!” he squeaked.

“I’m sorry Ron. Maybe it—won’t be so bad.”

“So bad? Look at you at least you could wear the ugliest dress and still make it work on you. I’ll be marred as a fairy till I graduate if people see me wearing this at the Ball. I’m doomed.” He then walked away leaving me at the fountain.

“Poor boy.” I shook my head shamefully.

“Ahh he’ll bounce back.” I jumped and there sat George.

“Bloody hell George! How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that!?”

“Ever since we were 11 our first week of classes. So did you have to reject our poor little brother to the ball?”

“No he asked me if there was any chance of mending his dress robes so that they’d be more ‘presentable’. According to him.” George laughed and I elbowed him in his ribs.  “Don’t laugh at him.”

“I’m his older brother, it’s my job.”

“Well your job is cruel and demeaning.”

“It’s all in good fun (n/n).” he poked my cheek but I swatted his hand away.  “Speaking of the Ball, whose the lucky man to have swept you away?”

“Ha-ha you’re hilarious George.” I said standing up and walking away.  He quickly caught up to me and said.

“This isn’t a joke, surely someone has asked you already. If not then you’ve got a line of guys waiting for you.” He stood in front of me.  Every time I’d move around him, he’d block me from leaving.

“You’re delusional did you know that? I mean really, a line of men waiting to ask me are you serious?”

“So just a few then?”

“George no one has asked me to the Ball.”

“Now you’re the one whose delusional.”

“No I’m not. Think about this for a second George Weasley. It’s been over a year since my father’s escape from Azkaban. No one knows where he’s at, and the ‘truth’ that was revealed is still kept in the dark. He’s not a ‘innocent man’ yet. So who in their right minds would ask the daughter of a mass murderer to the Yule Ball?” he finally allowed me to step around him.

“So what you’re just going to be alone?” I stopped in my tracks.

“Apparently so.” Before I could walk again, I bumped into George’s chest and looked up at him.

“No, no, no, no, no, no. That’s not going to happen.”

“What are you saying George?”

“I’m saying if you’ll go to the Ball with me?”

“If this is a pity date, don’t waste…..”

“It’s not pity. I solemnly swear!” he crossed his heart and holding up his other hand.  The twins only ever did that to me when they showed their genuine vow to not play and tricks or lies.  “The ball is on Christmas Eve and call it ‘family tradition’ or whatever but mum always said that no one should be alone on Christmas.”

Merlin’s beard.  My heart was pounding harder in my chest than it ever has before (even more than my first Quidditch match).  The look in his eyes showed his genuine pledge and I knew he wasn’t going to let this go.

“Ask me again if this is real, George Weasley.” He gave me a gentleman’s bow before looking up at me and said.

“(Y/n) Celeste Black, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?” my face started to flush as my pulse was rushing.

“Yes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes is there an echo in here?” once again I was picked up into his arms and spun around the two of us laughing joyously.  After a few spins he finally set me down but like a few days ago he kept his hands at my waist.

“I uhh—guess I’ll see you at the Ball then.”

“Yeah, yeah guess I will. Or you will.” I giggled softly at his pronoun mistake.  As I left down the hall, that tingly spark returned and I couldn’t help but miss the feeling of his arms around me.

Days went by and I had joined up with Hermione and the two of us were currently out in Hogsmeade picking out our dresses for the ball.  As I was going through the racks searching for the perfect dress Hermione said.

“I’m told that George asked you to the Yule Ball.”

“Yes, yes he did. Although I think we’re going just as friends. Just because you see a boy and a girl at a dance together, doesn’t mean they can’t go as friends.” Why did it sting to word it like that?

“Huh.”

“Huh? What do you mean huh?”

“Oh nothing. It’s just if I were to ever see you hooking up with anyone, it would be George.”

“What exactly are you getting on Granger?” I asked going over to her changing room door.

“You know exactly what I’m speaking of Black, why are you denying it? You know full well that most of the boys from Durmstrang had asked you to the Yule Ball and you’ve rejected every single one of them. Even Viktor’s right hand asked you out and you rejected his offer. But when George asks you, you say yes.”

“You’re full of it Granger.” I flung over another dress option for her.

“Am I?” she challenged.

“Are you done in there or not?” I asked impatiently as I stepped away from her door and she soon opened up and there she stood in her pink dress.  “Wow. Forget the dress I flung at you, this—this is the one.”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely, come here.” I dragged her over to the mirror and stood behind her.  “Have your hair done up just right, give it some gentle curls, maybe a beautiful necklace.” She quirked her brow at me. “Your right no necklace. And people won’t keep their eyes off of you. Mainly Viktor.”

“It’s just a dance. I have no romantic feelings for Viktor, not like you and George.” I pinched her arm making her exclaim and walked off.

“We’re just friends Mione, have been for the past five years now.”

“Denial is the first step into accepting ones true feelings.” Hermione sung out before heading back into the changing room to get out of the dress and back into her normal clothes.

No. No I-I couldn’t be…..or could I? Lately things have felt a little—tense between George and I.  Everytime he now wraps his arms around me, there’s this spark of electricity that hadn’t been there before.  My pulse also seems to grow a little fast and my face seems to flush more when it’s just him compared to when Fred and I are alone.

I soon found my chosen dress and went inside the other changing room and tried it on for size.  Once I got into it, I admired myself in the mirror and was amazed by how much the dress hugged my curves but also the way the actual design and color of it made it seem like the entire cosmos was detailed in this dress.

“Now that is a dress no one will tear their eyes away from.” Hermione said as she came back out with her dress tucked under her arm. 

“You really think so?”

“Trust me, people do say you’re almost like a star in human form.” I rolled my eyes at the comment.

“I think you mean just because I love Astronomy so much, people believe I should be a star.”

“Which would be a terrible idea cause you’ve got a more twisted ego than both the Weasley twins combined.”

“Hey I resent that comment!”

“Remind me again whose idea it was to fill the Slytherin common room with glitter bombs?” I snickered remembering that prank back in my fourth year.

“You gotta admit, Malfoy was still finding glitter in that blonde head of his for two months.”

“As amusing as it was, it was still your twisted idea.”

“C’mon, let’s get these dresses bought before the next flood of girls comes crashing in.” I went back into my dressing room and changed back into my normal clothes then the two of us headed over to the cashier and paid for our dresses.

Finally the big night had arrived.  I allowed Hermione into the Ravenclaw dressing room so that the two of us could get ready together.  I helped her out with her hair and makeup and she placed on her dress while I was getting the last few touches of my makeup done.

That’s when my owl Athena came into my room squawking.  I turned over to her and was surprised to see a box at her side.

“And what’s this Athena?” I walked over to her and untied the package from her talons and she adjusted her position before ruffling her feathers.

“What is it?” asked Hermione.  I picked up the box and saw the letter tied underneath the black ribbon.  It had my name written on it so I had opened it up and I recognized the writing format.

“It’s from my dad.” Hermione looked at me surprised and she asked.

“What did he say?”

“‘My Dearest (Y/n)’,” I read his letter aloud.  “‘I know it’s that time of year again, with the Triwizard tournament I know that the time for the Yule Ball has come once again. I wish I could’ve been there in person to see just how beautiful you look right now, but the best I can do is give you these. Your mother once had these given to her at our first Yule Ball together, a gift she said that was tradition in her family for the father to bequeath his daughter. I hope with these you shine like the star I know you are. Have fun tonight but not too much fun, trust me I know how boys are at this age. Love dad.’” We both chuckled softly.

“He really does love you, doesn’t he?”

“I wish we hadn’t lost those 12 years.” I kissed the letter and held it close to my heart.  I then set the letter down and unwrapped the ribbon from the box and opened it up to reveal about 12 tiny diamond-like beads.

“What are they?”

“I….don’t know. Wait there’s something in the box.” I pulled out a small rolled up note and unraveled it and written on it was a spell.  “Luce Stellarum.” Suddenly the small diamonds began to glow and raise up from the box.  They began to form around me and slowly they circled around me.

Each one that passed around me, what appeared to be stardust began to rain down upon me.  After a few spins from these diamond studs, my dress almost seemed to come alive as starlight patterns now shined through the dress and the diamond beads came onto the dress.  Some formed the Orion constellation around my right left.  One made a stardust trail of a shooting star going at my left hip, and the rest seemed to spread themselves and land perfectly into my hair.

The stardust around me faded and I turned to Hermione and she was in pure awe.

“(Y/n) you look—”

“What? Please tell me that didn’t ruin the hard work I did.”

“No, no it—it enhanced it actually, come see.” She brought me over to the mirror and I was stunned at what I saw.  The stars on my dress now began to twinkle and shine like the real stars in the sky.  My hair also glistened with starlight as the darkness of my hair really made the beads now scattered throughout my hair twinkled and shined.

“Oh dad….mum. Thank you both.” I clenched my mother’s locket and tried to keep back the tears from ruining my makeup.

“Now George won’t be able to take his eyes off you ever again after tonight.”

“Oh shut up Hermione. Now let’s get going, the ball’s about to begin we don’t want to be late. Least of all you since you’re leading this thing.” I took her hand and we quickly raced out of my dorm room and toward the Great Hall.

*George’s POV*

I stood by the entrance of the Great Hall with Fred, Angelina, Lee and Katie waiting for (Y/n) to come down so we could all enter together.

“Where is she?” I asked nervously.

“She was with Hermione in her dorm getting ready. It’s more of a walk from the Ravenclaw dormitories than Gryffindor. She’ll be here.” Angelina assured me.

“Or she could’ve had cold feet and chickened out last minute.” Lee joked but both Katie and Angelina smacked his arm for that comment.

“She’ll be here Georgie, she wouldn’t bail on you without giving you heads notice. Especially after the way you’ve been treating her.” Fred said as he wrapped his arm around my neck.

“In what way?” he gave me a pointed look.

“Oh don’t you start being daft too. The two of you I swear.”

“What are you talking about Fred?”

“Ever since the Quidditch world cup tournament we saw before school started. Don’t think I hadn’t noticed how much cozier you two have gotten with each other.”

“You really are the loose-screw in this twin pair Freddie. We’re all just…..”

“She’s beautiful.” We heard Lee, Katie and Angelina chorus breathlessly.  Fred and I then turned and I saw before me the most sacred thing my eyes would ever see.

(Y/n) Celeste Black walking down the stairs leading to the great hall.  Her dress was a mixture of purple and black, almost like a nebula far out into space.  Her dress was also covered in starlight diamonds that glowed every now and then, especially when the lights from the torches hit them just right.  Her hair was done up beautifully and fell down into waves but what surprised me were the same Starlights that were on her dress, also seemed to be in her hair as well.

And she was—she…..she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.  Even more beautiful than she normally was.

She soon came up to us and even though her mouth was moving, I couldn’t hear anything.  I was just encompassed by just the mere sight of her.  As our group began complementing her dress and her appearance, I began to notice things about her than I never thought of before.

Like did her eyes always seem to sparkle like that? They almost seemed to resemble—no resembling is too good of a word uhh—they outshined the sparkle of real sapphire jewels.  And the way her hair framed around her face, it gave her this ethereal deity like aura, and Merlin her smile……words couldn’t describe just how I felt about her smile.

It's her smile that I’ve always loved about her and I’d always want to do anything in this world to let her keep it.  She’s suffered so much in her life that she deserves all the happiness in the world, and I hope to one day be the man to give that to her.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa Georgie where is all this sentimental mush coming from? It—no.  What Fred was hinting couldn’t be true….or could it?

“Oi Georgie boy, best stop gawking at her and give your girl a complement less she think you find her repulsing.” Freddie whispered as he smacked me in the back of my head.  I shoved him off of me and walked up to her.

“H—uhm….(Y/n) you-y-you look…..” my throat felt dry and my palms began to sweat.  “You look beautiful.” I managed to croak out after clearing my throat.  Oh please tell me I didn’t sound like a git.

“Thanks George, you look rather dashing yourself.” We both smiled softly at each other as our eyes remained locked onto each other’s.

“Ahh I see the last of your group has at last arrived. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Jordan, you three can escort Ms. Johnson, Ms. Bell and Ms. Black into the Great Hall.” Professor McGonagall said.

“Well then you two, shall we get a move on?” Fred asked as he and Angelina hooked arms and walked into the Great Hall.  Lee and Katie followed just behind them and I cleared my throat as I extended my arm.

“Shall we, milady?”

“Indeed kind sir.” She wrapped her arm around mine and once again that tingle that’s been happening since the Quidditch world cup came back over me.  I guided her in and how is it that even with the magical snow falling down from above, she seemed to become even more ethereal than she was just outside in the hallway?

We joined up with Fred and Lee amongst the crowd and soon the band began playing as the four champions now walked through the crowd toward the dance floor to lead the first waltz.

“Doesn’t Hermione look beautiful?” I heard (Y/n) ask through the crowd’s applause.

“Yeah….beautiful.” but my eyes weren’t even looking toward Granger.

*My POV*

Once the four champions began the first waltz, it was Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall who were the first in the crowd to start waltzing.  But by bit more couples of both students and staff began to fill the dance floor.  I turned to George and asked him.

“Shall we?”

“I thought that was supposed to be my line?” he asked teasingly.

“Who says we both can’t share it?” he extended his hand and I took it and he lead me out into the dance floor.  The second I felt his hand touch my waist, I gasped softly and felt him pull me slightly closer.  My right hand intertwined with his left and placing my left hand around his shoulder he then lead me into the waltz with the others.

Even as the entire student body were now on the dance floor dancing in unison, my eyes couldn’t turn away from George.

“Who would’ve thought George Weasley was a phenomenal dancer?” I couldn’t help but praise.

“Trust me,” he picked me up by my waist in another lift before setting me back down, “I’m full of surprises.”

As the night went on, the waltzing had now turned into a real dance as we were all crowded together now dancing freely as the rock band played their set.  George and I stuck together in the crazed mosh-pit of students and screaming fangirls, jumping up and down to the beat.  Him occasionally spinning me around and at times we couldn’t help but join the screaming crowd as we both would howl in rejoice.

After the current song was done playing, we all cheered and I decided I needed a break off my feet.  George guided me to our table where the girls and Fred and Lee had taken their seat about four songs ago.

“You two truly are the party animals.” Commented Lee.

“What can I say, when there’s a good beat, I just gotta move my feet.” I said.  “Although I am feeling a bit parched.”

“We were just about to get some drinks and refreshments, we can bring you guys something back.” Angelina said.

“Oh you guys don’t have to do all that.”

“Really we insist, besides you’re the brave one. Dancing and lasting longer than us in heels.” Katie said shoving my shoulder as she stood up and our group of friends left leaving George and I alone.

“She’s wrong you know.”

“About what?” asked George.

“The heels. My feet have been killing me the past half hour or so.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Stubbornness. Plus I’m not lying about what I said when it comes to dancing. Besides I’ve gotten worse things stuck between my paws as a puma. Thorns and twigs I can live with, but high heels they’re murderer.” I unhooked one of my heels but before I could get the other one, George suddenly knelt down in front of me.

“May I?” I was breathless.  My heart skipped a beat and my voice was caught up in my throat so I only gave him a soft nod.  He undid the strap and slowly removed my left heel.

His calloused fingers wrapped around my ankle sent shivers through my entire body.  But when I felt his thumbs starting to lightly rub into my skin I slightly jumped and said.

“George Weasley I swear if you’re trying to tickle my feet.”

“No tickling, I solemnly swear.” He quickly crossed his heart just like he did back when he asked me to the ball.  “I was however going to give your feet a light massage before the blisters started setting in though.”

“I’ve been dancing in heels for more than an hour and a half, my feet are probably even more sweatier than after a Quidditch match.” I internally groaned.  Why the bloody hell did I just say that out loud? And in front of George of all people.

“I can always go to the loo to wash up afterward. But if you don’t want it, all you have to do is just say so.” We stared at each other and I swear if I stare another second into those eyes, my heart just might burst out of my chest.

“Well if…..I mean, I—if you want to. But don’t think I’m trying to push you into doing it.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I think you were. Believe me I’ve seen you when you get pushy.” I playfully glared at him but it quickly went away the second George began massaging my left foot first.  His thumbs doing slow circles just below my toes while his fingers dug into the balls of my foot and rubbed them.

It took every ounce within me to not moan but Godric above did his hands feel good! No, no, no! Get your mind out of the gutters! This is your best friend you keep imagining in these types of situations. And yet—why does this feel right?

*George’s POV*

Normally I’d never do this, especially since after I was a kid and mum would force us to help great Aunt Tessy’s sponge bathe her cuticles and boils on her feet.  I still get nightmares just thinking about it, but for (Y/n).  Helping her heal her feet from possible blisters and sores she’d feel in the morning, it was worth it.

Although I could swear I thought I heard a moan from her.  I also noticed briefly how she’d bite down on her lip occasionally whenever I’d get a sensitive spot.

No, no, no! George stop this! (Y/n) is your best friend! You can’t think of her that way…..or can I?

*My POV*

After massaging my left foot, he then patted his knee asking for my right and he got to work massaging that one next.  By the time he was done, the others began to arrive with our refreshments.  Some drinks and small bits of sandwiches.  As he said, he excused himself to the loo to wash his hands and Angelina asked me.

“What was all that about?”

“Yeah, what did you two crazy kids do while we were away?” teased Fred.

“Nothing happened mum and dad.” I mocked.  “He’s just going to the loo to freshen up a bit. Is that a crime?”

“At least he waited till we got back.” Piped Katie before she ate a chocolate covered biscuit.  I drank my water before taking a bite of my sandwich.  “So is everyone having a decent Yule Ball?”

“I’d say it’s more than decent.” Said Lee.

“I would agree to that.” Added Katie as she and Lee gave each other love-sick puppy dog eyes.  Katie softly giggling as they took each other’s hands.

“Well congrats you two.” I applauded.

“Now if only another certain pair of lovebirds would grow a pair and buck up the courage to talk.” Fred muttered.

“What was that Fred?” I challenged.

“Nothing, nothing.” I shrugged as he didn’t look me in the eye.

The hour droned closer to midnight and soon the ball would be over.  At this point our group had dispersed.  Lee had to turn in early because he needed his rest for his announcements at the next challenge of the tournament tomorrow so he and Katie left to retire for the night.  Fred and Angelina went off to go snog somewhere after having a couple of spiked drinks that some of the Durmstrang boys brought from their home country.

Leaving George and I the only ones behind.  Pretty much everyone was either out in the hallways, had retired for the night, or out snogging somewhere.  Very few people remained in the Great Hall save for a few couples who were now slow dancing to one of the band’s slow ballads.

“What do you say Black? One last dance before midnight?” asked George.

“I’d say that’s not a bad idea.” I accepted.  We took each other’s hands and we walked back out onto the dance floor.  George pulled me as close as possible to him and I reached up and put my arms around his neck while his hands held my waist.

As we slow danced to the ballad, neither of us spoke a word to the other but we kept our eyes on each other as we slowly danced around the dance floor with the few couples that remained dancing.  I guess I must’ve had some hidden Gryffindor courage hidden within me because I worked up the courage to gently set my head over George’s chest.

At first I felt him tense up and I almost retreated back but I soon felt him place his hand behind my head while his free hand took my right hand and held it right up to his shoulder.  His head soon rested just on top of mine and the hand that once held my head was now wrapped around my back keeping me close.

I heard his heartbeat through his suit and even though the smell of sweat still lingered in the air, I could still smell George’s natural scent of cinnamon and apple.  The world seemed to melt away as all that remained was George’s arms wrapped around me, his head on top of mine and his heartbeat ringing in my ear.

Soon the gong from the clock tower rang out Midnight and the Ball was officially over.

“Happy Christmas (Y/n).” whispered George.  I looked up at him and whispered back.

“Happy Christmas Georgie.”

“C’mon, I’ll walk you back to your dorm.” He then lead me out of the Great Hall and we walked up the stairs and toward the direction of the entry to the Ravenclaw common room.  We stood by the raven statue and I alone heard the riddle.

‘Who lived longer, the ghost or the poltergeist?’

“A non-being can never have been.” I responded back.  The wings of the raven soon folded inward and the door soon opened.  I turned to George and we hugged each other one last time.  “Thank you, for such a magical night. You were right, I would’ve been miserable if I had been left alone tonight.”

“Glad I could get through to you and change your mind.” I smiled and booped his nose before entering the doors.  I turned back towards George and sighed lovingly before the doors closed behind me and I was already overcome with a longing to go back into his arms.

I walked past the common room and headed up towards my dorm room and when I entered, Luna lay upside down on her bed reading her book with her spectacles on.

“Hello (Y/n). Fun time?” I walked over to my bed and collapsed onto it once more sighing longingly.  “The Thestrals missed you tonight.”

“I’ll be sure to bring them extra meat when we go see them together.” My mind kept going back to George.  His eyes, his smile, even his long ginger hair.  “Luna, if I tell you something will you promise not to say this to anyone?”

“Who would I tell?” she asked sitting right side up and pulling her specs on top of her head.  I cringed internally, right no one does talk to her.

“Tonight was the perfect night. And not because of the dancing, or getting dressed up and feeling radiant. No tonight was perfect……because of George Fabian Weasley. But I just don’t understand what it was that I’ve been feeling of him lately. I mean we’ve known each other since we crossed paths on the Hogwarts express our first year. And been best friends ever since. But now—actually I guess since the Quidditch world cup tournament we saw just before the school year started I’ve been having these—feelings for him. Like thousands of fairies are tickling around in my stomach. My pulse and heart seem to feel like I had just gotten done with a quidditch match, and my face flushes everytime we’re alone together. People are starting to call it out but surely it can’t be……could I truly be falling in love with my best friend? Is it mad of me to do such a thing?”

“As I’ve told you before, you’re just as sane as I am. I may not know much in the sense of romantic love but from what I’ve seen there is a strong connection. A red thread tied between the two of you just waiting to be seen.”

“But even if I do love him, how can you be sure he might feel the same? It would hurt twice as much of he didn’t and I’d have to lose him because of it.”

“A red thread between two souls is a symbol of soulmates. Spirits and hearts destined to be together. My mum always said, the ones we love always have a way of finding us in the end.” I turned to look at her.  She placed her spectacles on her desk and covered herself up. “Goodnight (Y/n).”

“G’night Luna.” I picked up my wand and used my magic to clean myself up and get ready for bed.  I buried myself under the covers and thought back to these past few months.

Could it really be true? This whole time this past year, have I—really been falling in love with George Weasley?

*George’s POV*

I lay there on my bed staring up at the ceiling my mind thinking of nothing but (Y/n).  Was I really falling in love with my best friend? Surely I can’t be, but then why can’t I stop thinking about her? And were those signs of hers tonight a sign that maybe just maybe she felt the same way too? I mean best friends can give each other foot massages, or go out and dance a slow dance, or even hold each other close, right?

Then why was my heart racing the entire time she had her head on my chest? And I hope and pray to Godric she didn’t hear just how fast it was beating.  The last thing I’d ever want is to lose my best friend.  And I can’t….not after all she’s lost already.

I turned to my side and shut my eyes hoping to get some sleep and just think about the next challenge of the tournament.  After all Fred and I had big plans for it.

[drowsyrrog]

3, 5 and 46

3. In your opinion what is the worst outfit any of them ever wore?

Err... this is a hard question, because all of the outfits are so stunning!! But if I had to choose it would be the outfits they wore for the Its A Hard Life music video and shoot.

5. Have you ever seen Highlander or Flash Gordon?

Not yet I haven't!

46. If you could go back in time to any concert they ever performed, which would it be?

I've always wanted to go see Live at the Rainbow. Idk why, but it just seems like it would be the coolest concert to go to! Either that or Live at the Wembley, where Freddie wore that iconic outfit.

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

And I adore them all!

Same energy

[xxisxxisxxis]

Preview: GD Vol. II | Part Five

Tag list: @squiddtheekidd @unknownoblivion @cierrasixx19 @oskea93 @mgkobsessed @sharon6713 @itsametaphorbriansblog @miriampraez @allie-mcginn @rebeccaphillips14 @nicholeh7 @lilmou5ie @emariehorror @floregrohlssard @oldschoolimagineblog @liith-ium @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @ytwahsog @scarecrowmax @random-internet-user-4471 @solohqrry @sparxx27 @kaitieskidmore1 @cruecifymesixx @gingerspicetalks @fancywasmyname1 @ggorehorror @xrosegoldwolfx @mylifeisjustafeverdream @str4nge-haze @m-1234 @leatherandheels @viinceneil  @heavymetalgirl420   @chevygirl1969 @bunnyyydoodlez @midsummereve1993

I see the look on his face as soon as the door opens, Eddie’s hair wild from what I’m assuming was a nap before I interrupted it, until he opens the door a little wider to reveal his guitar. 

He looked at me as if he was witnessing a car accident and couldn’t look away. My hair was completely unkept, I had dried baby vomit on my already stained t-shirt, I was still in pajama shorts and my bedroom slippers and my eyes were nearly swollen shut from crying.

Crying over a screaming baby, crying over feeling alone, and crying because my husband had apparently contacted his mistress and didn’t tell me about it.

I probably looked like a Martian compared to how he’d been used to seeing me before going out with Valerie, or at events.

I could see the temptation to shut the door in my face, but he wasn’t that kind of guy.

“Viv?” He asks me, glancing around outside before adding, “Umm, Val’s not home. Were you supposed to hangout or…?”

“No, no – I just…I wanted to talk to you, actually…um…” It’s awkward as I wait for him to invite me inside, but then remember maybe it’s best that we talk out here to avoid anybody getting the wrong idea. 

“Oh, okay.” He closes the door a second to go put his instrument down before he’s back out in his t-shirt and jeans, sitting down on one of the little cream-colored wicker chairs on the porch.

I opt to stay standing to keep some distance between us – again, voiding any prying eyes of making it into something it’s not – and cross my arms nervously while he obviously waits for me to tell him what it is I wanted to talk about. 

“Valerie told me what happened with you two, you know.” I confess it, and he looks as if he knows this, raising his brows slightly as I continue, “And she told me she cheated first.” 

“Yeah.” It looks uncomfortable coming from him, perhaps a blatant indication that I’m crossing a line, but knowing him, if I were crossing a line, he’d let me know rather quickly. 

“Do you think she loved him more than she loved you?” It’s the only thing that can come to my mind, only because that’s the question that torments me more and more despite Nikki’s affair being further and further into the past. 

Immediately, he shakes his head. 

“No, I don’t. I think…” He takes a moment to really gather his words, chewing at the inside of his lips before explaining, “...I think I was getting more and more busy, and kinda got absent…and she felt alone. He was there, and she liked that.” 

He was there, and she liked that, I repeat it in my head, secretly understanding that notion completely being I myself have felt that same feeling.

“What if you found out she recently contacted him to have some closure for the relationship? What would you do?”

“Has she?” His face twists.

“No, no, she hasn’t. But, just theoretically, what if she did?” 

“I wouldn’t like it but…closure exists as a way of indefinitely closing a chapter, right?” He asks softly, scratching at the back of his elbow.

“Yeah.”

He gives a shrug and a breath out and says, “Then why get angry or hurt she’s officially being rid of it?” 

It’s clear now that he knows a little bit of what’s going on, or why I’m here asking him very personal questions, because he then asks, “If he loved her, he would’ve left you for her.” 

“If he loved me he wouldn’t have gone to her in the first place.” It slips from me.

“I thought that, too, at first. Then, I fucked up, too.” He mumbles. “And I know I damn sure love her, but I still did it. Some things just aren’t black and white. You gotta know that by now.” He points out with a small smirk, his signature grin that pulls a smile of my own. “Did you love him?”

It’s asked as I’m about to thank him for his time and bid him “goodbye,” and I’m taken back by it.

It’s not prying or nosy — he legitimately looks curious. He let me overstep, so I suppose I can let him, now, too.

“I still do.” I admit it to him out loud, the only one I’ve really admitted it to. “But I love Nikki more.” 

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

I didn’t need another bassist to hyper fixate on, but here we are!

Sav talking about Animal>>

that fuckin accent omfg¡!

[reefer-keifer]

❤🌸❤🌸❤🌸❤🌸❤🌸❤🌸❤🌸❤🌸❤ you've been tagged to send love to 10 or more of your mutuals ❤🌸❤🌸❤🌸❤🌸❤🌸❤🌸❤🌸❤🌸❤

(instead of sending asks i’ll just tag y’all)

@thedeviousdevilxx @80srocknroller @lord-of-the-weird @greeneyezblackheart @kaylasixxrose @oh-hi-bucky @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @rocknrollsoul76 @junkyardromeo @crying-wannabegroupie i know i don’t talk to all of you but i’m still happy to see you on my dash!!

[thosequeenboys]

As this challenging year draws to a close, I want to thank my Tumblr besties, followers and all good and creative souls for their friendship, warmth, laughs, and content that keeps my fan girl ♥️ happy. Wishing you all a joyous year-end and an easier and fulfilling 2022! Special shout out to:

@warriorteam1924 @hellysthings @johndeaconshands @amethyst-serenade @brinteylovesaliens @jgroffdaily @benhardypout-archive @deakysgurl @jessahmewren @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @mirkwoodshewolf @melisa-may-taylor72 @teamchasez @puffitale @freebooter4ever @pastelhybristophiliac @benhardypout @his-majesty-king-mercury @lapofthemusicgods @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @captaincoffeegirl515

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Happy Birthday,

Bob Seger!

Happy Birthday! Here’s to many more trips around the sun!!

[johndeaconstoothgap]

Happy Christmas Eve! I hope all of you, especially my mutual, have a great holiday and healthy new year.

What’s everyone want for Christmas? I’ll go first.

@deakysgurl @deakys-chesthair @pleasedontlookatmeokay @johnstoast19 @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @binkyisonline @valentinesebastian @warriorteam1924