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femininefutbol · 2 years ago

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manchester derby

transferred/modified from my wattpad

prompt: you and ona batlle have an argument before the manchester derby

word count: 3.5k

a/n: i'm really sorry for the lack of posting recently, i haven't been doing too well mentally and i'm still not really so i have barely been writing at all. but thank you all for the continued support and requests, i have a lot that i want to write once i am feeling better so hopefully there will be new stuff to enjoy very soon.

"Why are you like this?" Ona yells across the apartment at you, the two of you in the midst of a heated argument.

"Like what? Excited to have a future with you?" you ask, this type of scenario happens anytime you happen to bring up plans of having a future with the Manchester United defender.

"No, so pushy! We have this conversation too often, can't we just live in the moment and be happy that we have each other now instead of trying to constantly plan for things that might not happen?" Ona replies, clearly frustrated.

"Ona, all I did was ask if we should extend the rent here or think about getting a place of our own. That is such a normal thing. I don't know why you are getting upset with me over this" you are on the verge of tears not understanding why any simple conversations about your future causes so much damage between the two of you.

"Look I get it but I don't want to think about that now, especially before a game. Why can't we just wait until it's closer to the time we need to think about it and then make a decision?" Ona groans, her game-day mood now put off by another argument.

"Three months out is when we have to make these types of decisions Ona, I left it as long as possible! We can't leave it til the day before, the real estate has been emailing me asking if we want to extend or not, and I tried to talk to you about it all week and you just blew me off, this has been the only time I could actually get you to listen to me" you also groan, just as frustrated at the situation.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow" Ona sighs as she picks up her bag getting ready to leave, "I have to go and you should make your way to the stadium as well" she continues as she makes her way out the door.

"Okay, I love you" you reply in a small voice, the response not even heard by your girlfriend as she slams the door on the way out of your apartment.

"Manchester will be red today!" Ona yells as she walks into the locker room at the Academy Stadium behind the rest of her teammates.

"We have a confident defender! Everyone prepare for a clean sheet!" Mary cheers happily as the rest of the group cheers in response.

"What's up with you?" Leah sits next to Ona, knowing that the defender is hiding something as she is usually very reserved and humble, especially on game day.

"Why would something be up? I'm just ready for the derby" Ona shrugs off the questioning of her teammate.

"No Ona seriously, you aren't like this, it's super weird, is everything okay?" Leah asks sincerely, placing her hands on Ona's shoulders looking her in the eyes.

"Everything is fine Leah, actually no, everything is incredible so can we not dampen the mood with whatever this is" Ona replies harshly, this stuns Leah as Ona never behaves like this.

Leah just shakes her head walking away from Ona, knowing she clearly isn't acting like herself but not wanting to push it any further.

Ona begins to get ready, clearly still angry, no one on the team bothers her though, having seen her interaction with Leah earlier and not wanting to be next in the firing line of the Spaniard.

"Does everyone suddenly have a problem with me?" Ona asks loudly, causing some heads to turn.

"Come with me" the team captain Katie grabs Ona's arm pulling her into the hallway between the two teams locker rooms. "What the hell is going on with you?" Katie asks harshly, annoyed that there are suddenly team issues so close to game time.

"Nothing" Ona mumbles.

"It's clearly not nothing, you blew up on Leah before and the team just now, so spill now or I'm having Marc bench you" Katie speaks.

"You don't have the authority to do that" Ona rolls her eyes trying to walk back into the locker room.

"Not particularly but I can tell him that there is a cohesion issue that starts and ends with you and he can make up his mind on what to do, and his answer will be to bench you" Katie responds, Ona sighs knowing that the captain is right.

"I just had a fight with (Y/N) this morning, it's nothing" Ona gives in giving Katie as little details as possible.

"Look I can see that it's personal and you don't want to talk about it but the entire team is here for you and we all love you but right now we need you to ignore those personal problems and be a team player" Katie quickly hugs Ona.

"Thanks Katie" Ona replies simply, walking back into the locker room and making her way over to Leah to apologise to her.

You walk into the locker room with no sign of your usual cheery gameday mood. You make your way to your spot putting your earphones in, ignoring anyone who enters the room.

"The life of the party not here yet?" Georgia asks as she enters the locker room, having noticed that there is no music playing and that you aren't dancing and singing around the room like you usually would be on game day.

"She's here" keira points over to the number 6 spot, you sitting under it with your head down seemingly staring intently at the ground. "We don't know what's wrong though"

"Maybe she's just tired? Has anyone spoken to her?" Georgia puts out her ideas as to why you are acting unusual,

"We've just been leaving her alone, don't wanna be the reason she snaps" Kiera shrugs, turning back to her own spot preparing for the game.

You look up as you receive a tap on the head, you see Georgia standing above you attempting to talk, you take one of your earphones out in order to listen to your teammate.

"What's up G?" you ask sweetly, acting as if nothing is wrong.

"I was just wondering where my dance buddy is, the room is so quiet I thought you weren't here yet" Georgia laughs lightly, quickly stopping when she notices that you don't so much as smile at the remark.

"Yeah sorry Gl, I'm not feeling it today" you reply, seconds later you are wrapped in Georgia’s arms, the shocking but comforting action causes you to burst into tears.

"Hey, what's wrong, seriously?" Georgia asks sweetly, rubbing your back to comfort you.

"It's j-just that Ona and I w-we had a fight t-this mor-morning" you stutter through your sentence as you violently sob.

"Hey hey, just breathe, calm down and then you can tell me what happened okay?" Georgia replies sweetly.

You take a few minutes to calm down, still slightly crying though, "Um so Ona and I had a fight this morning because I tried to ask her if she wanted to extend the rent or if we should look for a house together. She got mad that I'm trying to plan for our future, she says that I should live in the moment more and not cause problems" you informs Georgia and a number of other teammates who are standing around listening.

"She deserves better" Kiera whispers to her own girlfriend, Lucy.

Lucy steps up to talk to you knowing that she herself had been the 'Ona' in the past.

"(Y/N)" you look up at Lucy nodding quickly to show that you are listening. "Situations like this are always hard for both sides, but you need to be confident in who you are. You are not doing anything wrong by trying to plan for a future with someone you love but if she doesn't see that then there is a huge difference in the mindset that both of you have in this relationship. While it is horrible, leaving may be the best thing for you to do. Right now you need to focus on the game but afterwards you should talk with her and see if you two can make it work and if you can't or it ends in another fight then maybe it's time to move on"

"But I don't want us to break up" you reply in a small voice.

"I know, and you know what, a few months ago I was acting like Ona, it took Kiera confronting me and asking what I really truly wanted for me to see that if I didn't get serious I wouldn't have her forever. Now I'm back here and happier than ever. If she's the one for you she will realise that she can't live without you and if she's not we will all be here for you" Lucy replies, you quickly get up pulling her into a hug.

"Thank you so much Luce" you whisper, then louder you yell "so where's the music?" the team just laugh as someone turns on the music and you and Georgia begin dancing around happily getting ready for the game.

The two teams line up, there is an awkward air around yourself and Ona and thus the two teams as mostly everyone knows that the two of you are not on good terms at this very moment.

Everyone makes their way to shake hands with their opponents, once Ona is in front of you it seems like the world has stopped for the both of you.

"Good luck" you extend your hand out to shake Ona’s.

"You too" Ona does not shake your hand, instead quickly moving on, this action is not missed by any of the players on the field, or the fans who constantly speculate about the two rivals dating.

The players make their way over to their starting positions, while walking past Katie hits the back of Ona's head lightly, "that was such a dick move Batlle"

"I know" Ona sighs, getting ready to start the game.

On the other side of the pitch Lucy wraps you in the hug, "remember what I said, kill it this game and then kill the relationship... if needed" you laugh, quickly running to your position.

In the middle of the pitch Keira passes the ball to you, you have a clear line from the left wing to goal with none of the Manchester United defenders close enough to stop you from easily making the shot that you are essentially known for.

You quickly plant your left leg on the ground, preparing to kick with your right, as you move to kick the ball a force pulls you to the ground. All you can feel is excruciating pain in your right knee.

"Oh my god" Ona covers her face, feeling horrified that she may have just seriously injured you.

"Keep your personal shit off the pitch Batlle" Lucy growls at the Manchester United defender before leaning down next to you.

"Are you okay sweetheart?" Lucy asks you, rather than responding you continue to cry and groan clutching your knee.

"Medic!" Lucy yells as it seems like it is taking too long for the referee to make her way over to the scene.

Once the trainers arrive they go through a series of questions, you can not answer any of them, you are in too much pain to even hear what they are asking. After determining that it is likely an ACL injury a stretcher is brought onto the field and you are taken off.

"How are you doing sweetheart?" Lucy asks as her and Keira walk into the hospital room.

"ACL rupture, out for at least 6 months and my relationship is falling apart, I'm great" jordyn fake smiles as you hold two thumbs up.

"Ha ha funny, how are you actually?" Lucy asks, sitting next to you.

"It hurts a lot and I'm scared and I wish Ona cared enough to be here" you respond honestly.

"Do you know who hurt you?" Lucy asks.

"No, I don't even know what happened, I’ve only just been checked out and scheduled for surgery"

"Yeah well I think the reason Ona isn't here is because she's the one who did it, she went in for a tackle and completely wiped you out" Keira enters the conversation.

"Oh so it wasn't enough to mess with me emotionally she also had to completely physically mess me up" you sigh, "Sorry guys I'm feeling really tired, you can stay if you want but i'm going to sleep" you immediately close your eyes, attempting to stop the tears that are threatening to fall down your cheeks.

"I think you should leave" you hear a frustrated voice as you just barely begin to wake up.

"She's my girlfriend, you can't force me to leave" you recognise the voice to be Ona, but you don't open your eyes or talk yet.

"I'm well aware Batlle, but you got into a fight with her this morning over having a future together, then you were completely unsportsmanlike before the game and then you literally wiped her out and caused an injury that's going to have her out for 6 months! Your track record today isn't looking so good, so as someone who actually cares for (Y/N) I'm going to need you to leave right now, maybe think about where this relationship is actually going and then once you've made a decision, if you are lucky I will let you see her again" Lucy speaks to Ona, clear frustration can be heard through her strained tone.

"Luce" you rasp out in a voice that is barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, what's up sweetie?" Lucy asks tentatively, as she glares at Ona who still hasn't left.

"Can you call the nurse? I'm in a lot of pain and I just want to sleep" you respond, not even acknowledging that your girlfriend is in the room.

"Of course (Y/N/N), I'll be right back" Lucy states as she walks out of the room past Ona.

"Baby I'm so sorr-" Ona begins to apologise.

"Save it Ona, Lucy is right. You acted so horrible today, you made me feel so awful all day. Look I don't blame you for the injury, things happen, but the rest was so messed up. I'd like you to leave and consider where our relationship is going, I'll talk to you soon" you cut her off.

"I love you" Ona whispers as she leaves the room, not bothering to put up a fight, knowing that she is lucky that she even got as much as a simple response from you.

Ona walks into the Academy Stadium, she feels extremely awkward being there as her last interaction with Manchester City players was not at all positive but she knows she needs to do this to save her relationship.

She walks up to the front desk smiling sweetly at the receptionist, "Hi, I need to see Lucy Bronze"

"And do you have a pass for that?" the receptionist asks.

"Well um no I don't, but I play for Manchester United if that helps?" Ona asks, not sure how to get this girl to let her see Lucy.

"I'm not sure how being a Manchester United player would help at the Manchester City training ground, but I can call up and let her know you are here and she can choose if she wants to see you or not, name?"

"Okay ah we have another problem, she won't want to talk to me, we aren't on the best terms. Ooo um last resort, i'm dating (Y/N) (Y/L/N)" Ona informs the receptionist.

"Oh my god, I love (Y/N), she is such a sweetie!" the receptionist smiles for the first time in the conversation.

"Yeah she really is and I'm trying to surprise her so I could really use the help getting Lucy to come down here" Ona states.

"Okay fine I'll do it, but only because I'm fond of (Y/N)" the receptionist replies.

"What do you want Batlle?" Lucy asks harshly as she walks into the reception area where Ona is nervously pacing.

"Look I know I messed up like big time and I know (Y/N) hates me rig-" Ona is quickly cut off.

"She doesn't hate you, no one knows why but even after everything you've done to that sweet sweet girl can't stop talking about how much you mean to her and how she wishes things were different between the two of you" Lucy explains.

"Oh well that makes things a lot easier I guess" Ona rubs the back of her neck awkwardly.

"Anyway, get to the point please, why am I here?" Lucy is annoyed that she has been taken out of training for someone she very much dislikes at this point in time.

"I want to propose to (Y/N) and I need your help" Ona states simply.

Lucy is shocked at the admission but quickly recovers, keeping up her protective energy. "So you won't talk about any sense of a future with her but you want to marry her, you know how backwards that sounds right?"

"It's no excuse but the reason I have been so uptight about the future lately is that I have been planning this proposal and any time she mentions the future I’m scared that she has worked out that I'm planning to propose" Ona explains to Lucy.

"You are right it is no excuse but (Y/N) is completely infatuated with you and I'm sure she would be extremely excited for this surprise" Lucy explains. "You've still got a long way to go in my book but this is definitely a step in the right direction. Don't mess up this opportunity Ona, it's the last one you have"

"Wait, are you going to help?" Ona yells as Lucy walks off.

"Sure Batlle, message me!" Lucy replies not looking back at the Manchester United defender.

"Lucy, you know it's cruel to make a cripple walk, especially for so long and with no idea where she is going!" you groan as the two of you walk through the park.

"I already told you I'm taking you to a surprise and you will like it, also I literally offered to give you a piggyback and you refused so that's your own problem" Lucy laughs walking ahead of you slightly, the crutches making it hard for you to keep up with your teammate.

"I said no when I thought it was going to be a short walk to my favourite cafe, now that would have been a good surprise, can I take it back, gimme a ride?" you ask sweetly.

"Nope, anyway we're here" Lucy smiles, moving her arms to show you a path of white rose petals that lead to a picnic in a clearing that overlooks the city.

"um Lucy, this looks really romantic, we should probably keep walking, the couple will probably be here soon" you begin to walk past the path moving in a different direction, the action harder than you anticipated with your limited range of movement.

Seeing such a romantic setting makes you feel terrible, you miss Ona even though you feel like you shouldn't and you wished that someone would ever do something half as romantic for you in your lifetime.

"No silly, come here" Lucy grabs your shoulders pulling you down the petal covered path.

"Luce, you are great and all but you have Keira and she is one of my closest friends so this can not happen" you state as you point between yourself and Lucy.

"Oh my god, you are so clueless sometimes, I didn't set this up and I would never cheat on Keira, look just stand here and you'll understand in a minute" Lucy groans forcing you to stand right by the picnic blanket that is set up.

"Hi baby" Ona states, walking from behind you so that you wouldn’t be able to see her coming.

"Ona, hi. What are you doing here?" you ask, clearly very confused.

"This" Ona responds, moving to get on one knee in front of you.

"Oh my god, what?"

"I just need you to calm down and listen for a minute, yeah?" ona asks you. While still in shock you nod your head quickly.

"(Y/N) I have never loved someone as much as I love you and I know that I will never have the capacity to love someone in the same way ever again. You are my forever, you are everything I've ever wished for and everyday I get to spend with you is the best day of my life. I know that I screwed up really badly and made it seem like us having a future together was not something I wanted. That was the biggest mistake of my life, I would be honoured if you would want to spend your life with me. so (Y/N), would you do the honour of allowing me to be your wife?" Ona asks hopefully as you stand in shock with tears streaming down your face.

"Yes of course Ona!" you fall into Ona's arms, smiling widely at the fact that you finally got everything you have ever wanted.

#ona batlle #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #espwnt #spain wnt #manchester united #manchester wfc #man u #man united wfc

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scarthefangirl · 3 years ago

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Can you stop?

mama!nat x daughter!reader

Request: I'd like to request a Natasha x teen daughter reader were she is like this clingy nice kind talkative person and for some reason natasha starts getting annoyed by reader and hanging on with an other teen and actually yells at reader telling her these rude things and reader is no longer this talkative person and doesn't laugh anymore and natasha starts missing her old self and tries to get her old daughter back.

Warnings: Crying, rambling, bubbly reader, alcohol mentioned, drunkenness (briefly), sadness, loosing yourself, not proof read, rushed ending, (lmk if I missed any)

A/N: I changed the request slightly (Nat doesn't hang out with another teen, sorry) but I tried to keep it true to the request!! (Also that play is not actually four hours I just you know I yeah)

Word count: 2005

Y/N's mother was always right there for her, she always cared about Y/N and loved Y/N. She put her first above everyone in the world. But teenage years are hard for everyone. Sometimes parents get exhausted. Kids misbehave or get moody.

Y/N had her moments, sure, but she is a great girl. She always smiles and shares a positive attitude. She is optimistic and peppy and gives off bright vibes. Y/N is always there for any avenger, or anyone in general, and she is always trying to help people.

Natasha completely adores Y/N and is so proud to be her mother. But sometimes Y/N can be a lot for Nat to handle alone. It doesn't mean she doesn't love Y/N, she truly does, but even she gets tired.

This week was one of those weeks for Nat.

Y/N was being her usual perky self, so happy and energetic. She is heading down for breakfast, starving. She changes into a simple outfit, a t-shirt and jeans. Y/N sits next to her mother, planting her plate beside Nat's. Natasha gives her a pity smile and continues chewing her eggs. Y/N thinks nothing of it and digs into her bowl of cereal.

"Any plans for today mom?" Y/N asks before waving Wanda over to their table. Natasha shakes her head and turns the page in the newspaper she was reading.

"Maybe we could go watch my friend Katie in her school play! She is really excited and is begging me to go. It is about something odd, two authors combining a bunch of grim's fairy tales PR something. I never really read fairytales you know? They seem so fake. And besides your telling me some prince is going to kiss a dead fifteen year old chick? I don't think so. And everyone hunting the beast in-" Y/N's rambling is cut off by her mother's voice.

"Your point Y/N?" Natasha groans in an annoyed tone. Y/N looks at her bowl, feeling a bit embarrassed of her rambling patterns.

"Um, her show is at 2, I was hoping you would take me and maybe we could go together. It is a four hour show but it seems good. If you want of course, we don't have to. I just thought it might.." She catches herself ramble again and stops sheepishly. Nat sighs and nods.

"Its whatever we can go."

"T-thanks." An awkward silence over takes the meal, even Wanda feeling the tension. Y/N notices her mother's mood and decides everyone would feel better if she left. "I, um, I think I'm full."

"Okay, did we ask? You are old enough to leave the table alone. We don't need to hear about it Y/N." Natasha mutters angrily. Y/N gulps down the lump in her throat and stands up. She washes her dish off and puts it in the sink. The teenage girl heads to her room, placed beside her mothers. She lays on her bed and cries softly, feeling terrible for making her mother mad. Y/N was always a people pleaser, does things for everyone but her. She always acts and does things in a way she hopes will please the people around her. Natasha is someone who Y/N always tries to make happy. It hurts Y/N to see her mom so upset with her, all Y/N wants is to make Nat proud.

Y/N puts in her airpods and presses shuffle to her playlist. The first song to play is One More I Love You by Alex Warren. Y/N gets cozy in bed and drifts in and out of sleep.

Throughout the day Y/N subtly reminds Nat of their plan, only twice though. Natasha promises to pick up Y/N on her way back from the gym at 1:15 and then they could go. It is a long drive to the school so she has to get Y/N early. Y/N is very excited and Nat seems to be in a better mood.

Y/N waits by the door of the compound for her mom. 1:20, 1:30, 1:45, slowly the minutes ticked by. 1:50, 1:58, 2:00.

At 4:15 Y/N walks grimly back inside, mascara dried on her face. Y/N is upset and disappointed. But mainly she is kicking herself for even bringing it up. Her mom is so busy, of course she doesn't have time for this. What kind of jerk invites a busy avenger to a four hour play?! Y/N Romanoff does that's who.

Natasha and Carol Danvers walk into the compound around 11:30pm. Y/N is asleep on the couch and wakes up at the sound of laughter. She looks over at the kitchen where Nat and Carol have entered. They are holding drinks and are dressed fancy.

"Um, hey mom." Y/N walks into the kitchen. Nat nods upwards as if to say sup. "You said you were going to the gym."

"Plans changed." Natasha laughs throwing her arms in a W shape. She takes a long sip of her alcohol, as does Carol.

"You missed the play mama."

"Oops." She cracks up into laughter. Y/N feels tears burning her eyes but she pushes it down. "Maybe next time baby."

"Mom I am really upset. You promised. I waited for hours and you get back drunk and can't manage an apology. I, I really wanted tonight to go well. I miss hanging out with you. I have been making friends around town and I know I haven't been around much but I am missing you a ton. I thought maybe today would be the start of being together more. I-" Again Y/N is cut off by her mother,

"You need to shut up! You talk to much. Don't you know how to close that darn mouth of yours? You are always going on an on about Lord knows what. If your upset go cry in your room, I am so done hearing your voice constantly. You want friends? Shut up. No one wants to be around people with big mouths." Even though Natasha is drunk and doesn't mean it, Y/N is totally hurt. Her mother sees her that way? Her own mom? Natasha and Carol go out of the room, probably to get more to drink or something. Y/N sinks to the floor of the kitchen, sobbing uncontrollably.

Weeks passed and Y/N sunk into a depressive state. Natasha apologized for her attitude hundreds of times but Y/N was so hurt. She told Natasha that she forgives her but deep down the hurt was still there.

Y/N had always been insecure about being to talkative and to loud, and Natasha confirmed it all.

The whole team could tell Y/N was different. The whole mood went down without Y/N's positivity. Natasha feels awful, like she failed as a parent. And Y/N keeps telling herself people will love her more if she just stays silent. Thoughts run through her min such as just stay quiet, or, it isn't even funny so there is no point in saying it, or even, they don't care. They hate you. Y/N has to remind herself to shut up. She was so used to being the strong one emotionally, now she is letting all her bad emotions eat at her.

Today Y/N is laying on her bed and watching TV. Her door is open by a sliver until Sam pushes it open and stands in her doorway. He smiles at Y/N when she puts her attention to him.

"I heard this joke, wanna hear?" He asks. Y/N knows he is trying to make her feel better but it won't help.

"Fire away." She says emotionlessly. He nods before continuing.

"What is the difference between spinach and boogers?" There is an awkward pause before he finishes "Kids don't eat spinach!" He cackles. Y/N rolls her eyes at his attempt to be funny. Normally, Y/N would have laughed because he thought it was so funny. She loved it when people laughed at their own jokes, thinking it made the joke funnier.

"Good one, can you shut my door please?"

"Oh, um, yeah." Sam shuts the door, feelings hurt and confidence broken. Y/N hits play on the television and sinks into her bed. She hates making the team feel bad but she reminds herself that she is doing it for them and they would realize it soon. If she started talking again they would all remember how much they hate her.

The next person through the door is Wanda Maximoff. She doesn't say anything, she just lays in bed next to the teen. Her presence is comforting and makes Y/N feel better a bit. Eventually Wanda has to leave but the hours she spends everyday silently building trust with the girl will never be forgotten. Y/N will one day be grateful for Wanda and Sam and everyone on the Team, but she currently believes she is doing the right thing. She is hurting herself though.

Once more Y/N's room is invaded, this time by her mother. The young woman pretends to not notice her mom, hoping that her mom will leave her in peace. But clearly Natasha cannot read her daughters mind, as she decides to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Hey Y/N/N, whatya watchen?" Nat asks casually.

"Boy meets world." Y/N answers straightforwardly. She doesn't take her eyes off the TV, refusing to look at her mom. She really isn't mad at Nat, but she knows if she looks at Nat to long she will burst into tears. She wants to talk so bad, she wants to hug everyone she sees. But she also wants to tell her mom how she feels. Y/N hates herself.

Natasha must have noticed Y/N's lip trembling because she scoots further onto the bed, closer to the teen.

"Lets talk Y/N."

"There is nothing to talk about mama."

"Its been weeks. I've tried giving you space and time but I'm worried honey." Natasha starts, "I love you, and I miss your bubbly happy mood. You are sad and that makes me sad. I want you to be yourself. Its okay to be not okay. But I need you to talk to me. Maybe if we talk about how your feeling then you can feel more like yourself."

"You miss me?" Y/N asks curiously. She knows she shouldn't budge so easily but she does miss herself.

"Obviously! You are my favorite person in this whole world. You. And I understand I hurt you and for that I feel eternally sorry. Is there anything at all I can do to help you my love?"

"I hate myself." Y/N admits, tears in her eyes.

"What?!" Natasha shouts in surprise. She never expected that to come from the teenager who is the definition of yellow.

"I am to loud, I talk to much, I am selfish, I- I am better off to never speak." Y/N breaks. Maybe it was the fact that she missed Nat, or maybe she missed talking, but it was so easy to get her to spill. She was ready to talk to her mother.

They do talk, for awhile. The hours tick by as they swap feelings, experiences, and more. Y/N has a feeling she will be closer with her mom after today. They understand each other better now. Y/N feels better about herself, like she can be more of who she is. It will take time for Y/N to fully recover but this is a start.

After this night they definitely have a stronger bond then ever, so look at world; Natasha and Y/N are coming through.

Tags: // @themarvelprince // @misselsbells06 // @american-sataness // @cr0ssoverf4n4tic // @powerfultaylor // @blackwidow-3 //

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parchmentedpetrichor · 3 years ago

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➳all the king's men ♡ ☾

in which all the king's men couldn't put the pieces of y/n l/n together. we all have the days where we're insecure and broken, this is one of hers.

fred weasley x fem!reader

word count: ±1.8k

tw: insecurity, bullying

please if you are having overly harmful thoughts about yourself, talk to a friend or a professional. you are perfect the way you are and don't let anyone tell you otherwise!

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

it's so sad that the best people tend to think the worst of themselves

all the king's men

y/n, for lack of a better description, was feeling like humpty dumpty. she had seen herself in the mirror last night, and felt positively traumatised. she had come back from a quidditch practice session, and the results were quite terrifying.

she didn't understand. quidditch made the guys more toned and even a few of her teammates had abs. what did it do to her? well, it made her shoulders broad, which she thought was highly unattractive to anyone, and not at all slim! sure, it was fun and kept her fit, but terribly horrible, in her opinion, in trying to fit in to the beautiful girls that went to hogwarts.

she admired angie johnson and cho chang and ginny. she really did. y/n knew how hard it was to be beautiful, and she liked when other people were so beautifully beautiful. it just made her feel terrible, because what was the chance of her keeping her boyfriend in fred weasley when fiercely pretty girls were dancing elegantly around her?

there wasn't any time to be mopey and sad, so she gathered all her books and immediately went to breakfast. she didn't even bother going over to fred and greeting him. she saw how happy he was laughing with george and lee. surely she wouldn't bother him. instead she plopped down next to alicia.

"you ok?" alicia spinnet asked her.

she nodded, "fine."

"you sure?"

"no."

"wanna talk about it?"

"do you think it's too early to get plastic surgery?" y/n joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"what the fuck, no. what's up?" alicia's eyes were lit with concern.

"i don't feel pretty," her voice was but a whisper.

alicia caught it.

"why? you're literally adorable."

"you're my best friend, you're supposed to tell me that."

"hmm, nah, i truly believe it."

"well i don't," y/n said miserably.

"oi, l/n, your hair down today?" adrian pucey snarled, "it's gonna give me aids."

a few students snorted.

"you can get aids then. shut your mouth," y/n retorted back.

the whole school look startled. was this the same, prefect, goody-two-shoes y/n l/n?

adrian pucey opened his mouth.

"i said shut. your. mouth."

fred weasley watched in a mixture of furiousness and pride. he knew that pucey had a crush on y/n too. he was just terrible in expressing it. fred didn't like the way y/n's eyes sadly flitted to alicia afterwards. and she hadn't come up to him and given him a kiss today. maybe she just wanted a bit of space??

"see?" y/n sighed, "not even my hair is pretty." she tied it up.

alicia laughed, "adrian just wants your attention."

that made y/n laugh. "why? why?" it was a rhetorical question. she got up, and smiled at adrian in the most menacing way that he shrunk.

"miss l/n, your outburst was quite rude-" snape began.

"my apologies professor, of course, i was in the wrong. adrian pucey brought the topic surrounding my hair up, called it ugly. now what would you do if a student called your hair ugly?" y/n said, eyes burning with fury but conscience too good to lose her temper.

"i-i would give them a scolding."

"likewise. good day, professor."

"fucking hell, he is such a sh-" alicia muttered as she got up and followed y/n out to class.

"ali, that's enough," their retreating voices could be heard.

fred kept his eye on y/n through the day, giving her the space he thought she needed.

she looked very like her normal self, until she encountered pucey again.

"l/n, nice squinty eyes," pucey laughed.

y/n's shoulders sagged. her eyes dimmed and she let her ponytail fall in front of her face.

"ponytail won't fix them," he laughed meanly, "can they fix your dumpling body?"

fred frowned deeply, "fuck off, adrian," he angrily said, "that's my girlfriend you're talking to."

"oh, you have someone like weasley to save you? i don't even think you deserve him as a boyfriend."

y/n didn't answer, fearing that tears would spill out of her eyes. she had just been feeling worse and worse about herself. instead, when the bell signalled the end of classes, she hurried quickly off to wherever, trying to pull herself together.

she felt like she was at the bottom of the earth. her eyes finally let go of the tears that needed to be spilt. she leant sobbing against a stout tree in the forbidden forest, head slumped gloomily against the trunk, eyes trying to find anything, anything, that could be remotely comforting and hands fiddling nervously with the flowers that bloomed happily around her. her whole body shook in anxiety. she wished she had her mum or dad here to help her. but they were back at home.

how did fred love her?

she wished she didn't have stupid hair or squinty eyes or a dumpling body. but she couldn't ignore the mean, yet so true, remarks about her body adrian made. they were morally wrong and he deserved to be stabbed, but they were factual. she used to just laugh and joke about him too, but now she realised that maybe she should pay more attention to the way she eats and works and the way she talks and looks and presents herself and put more makeup on and-

fred found her crying there, by the little pond, shrinking away from the mere sight of her own appearance. he didn't get it.

well, he did, but he didn't know why such a beautiful girl like his girlfriend was crying.

"y/n?"

she flinched and stopped crying.

"sorry, i'll leave. i don't think you want a dumpling of a girlfriend sharing this nice space," she attempted to joke, but it fell short. she wasn't joking anymore. her tone was serious and genuine. the unexpected good nature pucey's remarks were received in usually was gone, and for good reason. it had broken her into the tiniest little pieces.

fred felt it. he felt his heart stop.

"is this about what pucey said to you, lovely?" he asked gently, cupping her cheek, and pulling her close to him.

she nodded, feeling immensely better already. the smell of him made her calm down insanely.

"so you don't want space?"

"n-no, i was just..." she trailed off uncertainly.

"mhm?" he looked at her and waited.

"it's silly."

"well, it's got you crying, i don't think so."

"the stuff a-adrian says is true," her voice was quiet and small.

fred frowned.

"i'm not cute or elegant or even hot," she continued, "i-i'm not as pretty as anyone here."

"well, my little love, if my opinion even matters, you are stunning. i think you're the prettiest person in the world, both on skin and in here," he patted his own heart, "do you know how long i pined after you?"

"no?"

"i'm still pining after you, gorgeous."

"d-do you mean it when you say gorgeous?" her eyes were broken and teary.

"of course. it hurts me when you are upset. because you are gorgeous and much more because you are so nice and good to me and to everyone else too. pucey's a complete shithead and when i next see him i will bash his head in. i'm so sorry i didn't notice, love, i thought you were mad at me."

"no it's fine, i just don't understand. you're fred weasley. so many girl's want you and you-you choose...me?," a sad frown was etched on her face, her tone confused.

"y/n, you're my only choice. i don't want the other girls. i can see the appeal of you. i-i know i'm not the best with words like you, but i really care about you. i love you, i adore you, you're the bestest person i've ever met."

and he knows he's brought the happiness back in her. she giggled. he felt relieved, because he knew he wasn't good at all at comforting people and y/n was so special to him- why didn't he say that earlier to her?

"bestest isn't a word, freddie."

"well you get what i mean, right? you're really special to me," there it was.

she nodded slowly, a small smile forming on her lips as she kissed him on the lips, before snuggling closer to him.

"darling, wouldn't you rather go back to the castle to cuddle?"

hesitantly, she shook her head.

"why?"

"'drian's there."

"adrian cannot hurt you, okay? whatever he tells you is wrong. he's wrong," he gently says, pulling her close to him, "besides, if he does, i'm here, and you're strong."

"i just cried about it, i can't be strong."

"crying doesn't mean you're weak, darling, sometimes we all cry and that's okay."

y/n nodded.

"here, i brought this for you, maybe it's a comfort??" he blushed as he handed her his quidditch hoodie.

she grinned and put it on.

he couldn't stop blushing at the sight of her, so he tilted his face away to save himself the embarrassment.

noticing and mistaking his turned away head for disgust, y/n took the hoodie off, downcastedly handing it back to him.

"sorry," she gave a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as fred looked at her in confusion.

"y-you can have it back, yeah, there's no need to hide your shame, here, s-sorry," she stuttered out.

"shame?" he asked, looking worriedly down at her.

"mhm," she fiddled with the hem of her shirt, "sorry."

he finally understood.

"angel, look at me."

she reluctantly looked up at him.

"i wasn't feeling disgusted at all. i-i was actually embarrassed because i was blushing," his cheeks heated up again, "like i probably am right now. you're too beautiful. i was blushing too much."

"oh."

"yeah. now put it back on," he demanded, as he cheekily tugged the jumper over her head, blushing again as he saw her standing there in his jumper.

"c'mon!" he said, carrying y/n's school bag as they made their way to the castle, his arm wrapped protectively around his waist and the bright gold letters on the back of his sweater shining for anyone and everyone to see.

they didn't see pucey, thank goodness and they ended up talking with george and katie bell and angie and alicia by the fire.

as y/n smiled and giggled with katie over something highly scandalous, fred had his eyes on her, not so much monitoring her, but he couldn't keep them off of her.

when he had noticed her words start to become short and slightly slurred by tiredness, he lead her back to her dormitory.

"feeling better princess?"

she nodded, "you're so good to me, freddie. i love you."

it made his heart swell with happiness.

"i'd go to the moon and back for you, y/n."

she smiled drowsily, "and i, you."

191 notes · View notes

hockeyboysimagines · 3 years ago

Text

Ashes and Wine

Warnings:Drinking, mentions of parties/alcohol, language, angst.

I’m so sorry this has taken so long. But I hope you enjoy this chapter.💕

This gif has nothing to do with this chapter. But look at this moron🤣🤣 I love him.

Leighton’s head was splitting when she woke up the next morning. She was vaguely aware that she was in her bedroom but she wasn’t quite sure how she got there and she still had all her clothing on. She sat up slowly, and looked around. The rest of the apartment was quiet, and he curtains were closed. Her shoes were by the bed, and the picture on her dresser was moved.

Then it hit her.

Her memory was foggy but she could see a hazy visual of Mat carrying her into the apartment. She had almost fallen and then almost kissed him.

Oh great.

She huffed and rubbed her forehead. She didn’t often drink, and when she did never that much. But being in Mat’s presence, and seeing the ring on Kaitlin’s finger had rattled her so much, she just got a little out of hand. It was stupid. She had said no. She had drank her weight in vodka. And she needed Tylenol and a drink. Ginny was sitting at the kitchen island eating cereal.

“Morning.” She watched as Leighton disappeared behind the fridge door looking for water.

“Stop staring at me Ginny.”

“The last time I saw you that trashed was at Brad Smith’s party senior year. You were so drunk…that was the night you-“ she said giggling.

“Okay okay. I remember.”

Ginny chuckled “Mat brought you home last night.” She said casually, chewing a spoonful of cereal.

“So?”

“So. Did something happen?”

“ No nothing happened. He’s engaged to…whatever her name is.”

“All I’m saying is I saw that look. It’s the same look he used to give you four years ago.”

“Look I am hungover and I am not in a good mood. He’s engaged and he brought me home last night because he just wants to be friends-“

The doorbell rang just them interrupting her speech. Ginny frowned and slid off her stool. When she opened it, Beau of all people was standing on the other side of the door holding a carrier with three large coffees in it.

“Morning boozy.” He said giving her a smile as he breezed past Ginny and set them on the island.

“Oh my god I think I’m in love with you.” Leighton took hers gratefully and sipped it, feeling better instantly.

“So….” He asked leaning on the counter “Did something happen last night?”

Ginny chuckled and shook her head blowing on her coffee through the hole.

“You guys are the worst. Nothing happened.”

“Doesn’t mean you didn’t want it to.”

She rolled her eyes “Can you two leave me alone.”

“No.” They said in unison.

********

“So how was the rest of your night last night?” Kaitlin asked over breakfast. Mat shrugged.

“It was fine. Leighton and Beau got along pretty well. She had a little too much to drink though.”

“Was she okay?” Kaitlin looked genuinely concerned.

“I think so. She’s just going through some stuff right now is all, with the move and adjusting.”

“You should help her Mat. I’m sure she would really appreciate it. There’s that team party thing on Friday, I’m leaving that morning for a few days. You should take her.”

If Mat hadn’t just set down his fork he would have dropped it. Kaitlin must really feel secure about their relationship if she was giving him an invitation to go hang out with his ex girlfriend. Was this a test? He felt he was in dangerous territory and no matter how he answered it wouldn’t be right.

“Oh Kaitlin. I don’t know.”

“We’ll think about it. I’m okay with it.”

They ate breakfast in relative silence until Kaitlin left him to shower and pack for her trip. Mat sat down in front of the tv, and absently flicked through the channels, not really watching what was on it. His mind started to rewind.

Music was blaring through Katie’s Miller’s house. While the rest of the guys on the team were yelling and carrying on about winning, mat and Leighton were out talking quietly. The ride to the house had been short, too short to have real conversation and he had been dying to get her alone since then. She looked so damn pretty leaning forward against the railing of the deck.

“You played good tonight.” She said smiling “Or at least I’m pretty sure you did. Right?” He laughed. It was kind of endearing and actually nice that she didn’t know anything about the sport. Sometimes he felt a tremendous amount of pressure to perform because of the promise of making it to the nhl. He didn’t have to be Mat Barzal NHL hopeful with her. He could just be Mat.

Before he could answer the party goers behind them started chanting and they turned to see Cody and some other guys assisting Ginny in doing a keg stand. Leighton rolled her eyes.

“She’s a real piece of work eh?”

“Eh? What is that a Canadian thing?” She teased. Mat blushed.

“I guess.”

“It’s cute. I like it.”

I like you. He thought to himself.

“So how did you and Ginny meet?”

“I sit next to her in English class. We were partners for a project.”

“I’m surprised someone else didn’t try to fight you for it. Boys break their necks just to talk to her.”

“So I’ve noticed. I don’t know….she’s cool, but I’m a little more interested in someone else.”

She quirked an eyebrow “Oh yeah? Who’s that?”

Feeling bold, both from the beer and from the high of victory, he smiled at her and shrugged “ There’s this cute little blonde she hangs out with that caught my eye in Math class. In fact. I’m pretty sure that I’m failing because I spend so much time looking at her.”

Leighton let out a small laugh and turned to him, hair spilling over her shoulders. She turned her head to the side and looked up at him through her eyelashes. Gosh they were long, and her eyes were so big and caught the light every time she blinked.

“I’m sure she probably thinks your pretty cute too.” She said quietly bringing him back down to earth.

“That’s really funny, because I’ve been thinking about kissing her.”

“Okay I’m ready to leave.” Mat jumped as Kaitlin set her suitcase down on the hardwood. She was smiling at him as she pulled her coat on and shook out her hair. He stood to kiss her and say goodbye. There was a cab waiting to take her to the airport.

“I love you.” She said wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I love you too. Have a safe trip.”

“Mmmm. Try not to have too much fun while I’m gone.”

“Never.” He said running his hands up her back “just gonna hang with Tito probably.”

He didn’t miss the look of distaste that crossed her face and it annoyed him a little bit. Kaitlin had this idea that Beau would break them up or something and he wasn’t really sure why.

“We’ll have fun at your team thing. Are you going to ask Leighton to come?”

“Oh I don’t know. Maybe.”

They chatted for a few more minutes before she kissed him one last time and walked out the door to the cab. He pulled his phone out, opening his contact list up and scrolling to Leighton’s phone number. He debated for several seconds before closing her contact and then opening it again.

Hey. It’s Mat. There’s a thing on Friday and Kaitlin is out of town. She suggested I ask you. I thought maybe we could do dinner or something beforehand? I’d really like to catch up.

She responded soon enough for him to be hopeful, but long enough for him to sweating out her response.

Sure. That sounds nice. What time?

*******

“So it’s a date?” Beau said nudging her several times. Ginny was sitting on her other side and let out a small chuckle. Beau had insisted on taking them to lunch, waiting around while they both showered and got ready. Leighton had a feeling that he not only wanted some gossip, but he was trying to gauge how much charm it would take to win Ginny over.

“It’s not a date. Just a dinner between old friends.” Leighton said sipping her water.

“Old friends who used to bang.”

Leighton nearly choked on her water and felt her cheeks get red. Sending Ginny a glare she stabbed at a piece of chicken with her fork.

She was looking forward to spending some time with him. Sober. But she was also painfully aware that it was strictly dinner between friends. Even though she wasn’t around, he did still have a fiancé. Even though Beau reminded her “She’s awful.” It didn’t change that she existed.

That didn’t stop her from pulling out all the stops though. She spent some extra time on her hair and makeup, and pulled on her favorite black sweater and dark jeans and boots.

Ginny was out somewhere, but had also been invited and would meet her there later. She hurried out of her apartment, and by the time she made it to the front of her building Mat was waiting there, leaning against his car. He looked up, and blinked at her for several seconds before he smiled.

“Hi. You look nice. Ready?”

She felt like she was going to throw up as he opened her door and guided her into the car with his hand on her lower back. While he drove them to wherever they were going, she really looked at him. He was so different yet the same. Same eyes and smile, but his hair was longer and the years in the NHL had given him extra muscle.

“Stop staring at me.” He said, giving her the side eye, but he was smiling.

She chuckled and looked out the window at the buildings “ So where are we going?”

“To dinner.”

“Okay but where?”

“In a restaurant? Where else would we be going?”

She rolled her eyes “Your so annoying.”

“You haven’t seen me in four years and your telling me I’m annoying? That’s hurts L.”

She felt a tiny pang at the nickname he used to call her, and he must have too because his smile faded a bit and he cleared his throat.

“Uhm anyway…So where is Kaitlin tonight?”

“Uhm. She’s on a work trip in Florida or something. She said I should ask you to come to this thing. If I didn’t Beau would have thrown a tantrum.”

She smiled “I like Beau. He’s funny.”

Mat knew she meant as a friend but he felt a tiny twinge of jealousy. He wanted to be the one making her laugh, not Beau.

“I’m really glad you guys get along. He and Kaitlin don’t always.”

Leighton pursed her lips “Yeah I’ve noticed. What’s that about?”

Mat shrugged “Honestly, I’m really not sure. They’ve just never gotten along. It’s not easy, I’m not gonna lie to you. I’ve never had to deal with it before.”

In high school, his friends and teammates loved Leighton, and loved them together. It had been easy and when Beau and Kaitlin ended up on bad terms, Mat didn’t know what to do.

“I’m sorry Mat. That must be tough.”

“It is. But enough about that.” He said parking the car and turning to her smiling “Lets go. I want to catch up with you tonight, and not talk about that.”

*********

“Did you break up with Kaitlin. My man!” Mat turned as Jordan slapped him jovially on the shoulder, big smile on his face.

“Did I what?no.”

His smile faded and he frowned, looking confused “Well then who’s that?” Mat sighed. Leighton had been friendly and charming to all his teammates she had met so far. Her big smile and soft eyes drew people in like a magnet.

“That’s Leighton.” A collective gasp went up around the table. Most of his teammates knew about Leighton in some form.

“Leighton as in the girl you asked to marry-“

“Yes Marty let’s just not go there.”

“Does Kaitlin know she’s here?”

Mat opened his mouth to answer, but Beau spoke first “Who cares?”

Jordan and Marty laughed, both shaking their heads.

“We’ll I have to say Barz this is one I like. I’m so happy you moved on from Kaitlin.” Sydney had now joined them, smiling widely at him, missing Marty shaking his head at her trying to catch her attention. Beau started laughing and Jordan was smirking as he watched Sydney furrow her eyebrows and look between them.

“What’s so funny?”

“He didn’t dump Kaitlin. That’s his ex girlfriend.” Marty mumbled in her ear. Her eyes widened and she chuckled awkwardly and gave him an apologetic look.

“Oh. I’m sorry I didn’t-“

“Do you guys really dislike her that much.” He looked around the table. They wouldn’t meet his eyes but they all shrugged.

“It’s not that she just isn’t- what we would expect.” Sydney said choosing her words carefully “This one.” She said jerking her head in Leighton’s direction “Is more someone I could see you with.”

“Plus she has a smoking hot friend.” Beau added in. Ginny had just arrived, greeting Leighton at the bar and ordering a drink. Sydney rolled her eyes.

Matt spent the rest of the evening not really listening to what anyone was saying. He could t believe how much his team and their wives and girlfriends disliked Kaitlin. The more he thought about things the more he realized he had been missing all the signs. Kaitlin rarely came to games and when she did she always brought a work friend and didn’t sit with the other girls. She never went to any WAG gatherings or out with them for dinner or drinks. And here was Leighton, someone who had been absent for 4 years, fitting seamlessly into the mix, laughing and joking with them over drinks. It didn’t add up and it was frustrating. It was even more frustrating when he found her leaned over the bar top talking with the bartender.

Tall, black hair, well built. She definitely had a type.

He cleared his throat as he approached, causing her to turn to him. It was almost 1 am, and he was mad and tired.

“ Hey, it’s getting late. Are you ready?” She turned and smiled at him but shook her head.

“Actually.” She glanced at the bartender “ I think I’m gonna stay.” The bartender was giving him a smug look. He had watched him give Leighton one too many once overs and flirty smiles, and he wanted nothing more than to punch the guy in the face for doing it, which didn’t make any sense.

She was his ex girlfriend. He had moved on, why couldn’t she? She was too good, too special to be thinking about going home with a bartender with bad tattoos and no real value for her. He couldn’t tell her not to, but he could try.

Mat reached for her hand pulling her to him “ He’s not good enough for you.” He whispered and turned walking through the crowd and put into the night air. Leighton stood mouth open watching him leave.

“So anyway I get off in-“ the bartender said leaning forward but Leighton had walked away from him, following Mat outside. Who did he think he was? He couldn’t say that to her. He was engaged, and here he was trying to make her feel bad about flirting with a guy she wasn’t even going to call again.

He was on his phone ordering an Uber when he heard the door bang open.

“Hey!” He spun to find Leighton standing on the steps hands balled into fists at her sides. She looked angry, her eyes were wide and her cheeks were flushed.

“Don’t say things like that to me!”

“Leighton I-“

“He’s not good enough for you? I don’t need you inside my head anymore. It’s not up to you to decide that for me. You have fiancé, you moved on. Why can’t I ?”

“I didn’t mean it that way, I just meant -“

“No! I don’t care how you meant it. It’s not fair to me and it’s not fair to kaitlin either!” She gave him one last glare before she stormed back inside.

He let his head fall back and huffed out a breath. He knew he was being stupid, and unfair to everyone including himself. He slipped into his Uber mind going a million miles a minute.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

********

“I’m ready to leave.” Ginny turned and found Leighton flushed and angry behind her.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just ready to leave.”

“Okay.” Without a seconds hesitation she tossed her drink back, and paid her tab following Leighton out the front of the bar. As soon as the door shut Leighton exploded. She was talking so fast and so angrily Ginny could barely understand what she was saying but got the gist of it.

“And then he said ‘He’s not good enough for you’. What the hell does that even mean? He can’t say that to me!”

“Oh you two. I wish you could just both realize you still love each other and fix this whole mess.”

“I don’t love him.” Leighton said scoffing and folding her arms as they walked and argued.

“Oh my god, shut up L. Be honest about this for once in your life.”

“I’m done taking about this.” She snapped. They walked the rest of the way in silence each slamming their bedroom doors. They threw themselves into bed, stewing for a few moments before pulling out their phones. They both had multiple notifications, tagged posts and follow requests from various teammates and wives. Leighton liked them all, even making plans for shopping with a few and she and Ginny had been invited to dinner with others. She sighed and rolled over, tossing her phone aside, before she spoke out loud to the darkness.

“I hate you Mat Barzal.”

********

1,339 miles away Kaitlin washed her face and go ready for bed in her hotel room. She settled in and pulled her phone out as she turned the tv on and flicked the lamp off. She scrolled through Instagram and immediately noticed several groupings of photos from some of the other wags. She scrolled through a feeling of dread coming over her.

Leighton and Ginny were both in many of the photos, smiling and toasting with drinks like they had known them forever. They looked so natural, like it was where they belonged. All the wags had already followed both of them, commenting back and forth and arranging to get together. She got more annoyed as she scrolled but when she scrolled to the last picture she got angry.

Mat and Leighton were standing smiling at each other, a candid photo taken by Lauren Eberle. He was looking at Leighton like Kaitlin had always wanted him to look at her. She closed the app, and put the phone down, blinking away angry tears.

Things were going to change when she got back to Long Island.

#mat barzal #mat barzal fic #mat barzal imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey fandom #hockey writing #hockey tumblr #hockeyblr #hockey blurbs #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb #nhl fic #new york islanders

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imaginedxlan · 4 years ago

Text

Pike (George Weasley)

a/n: i have an addiction. i’m sorry. take this platform away from me. anyway ENEMIES TO LOVER BITCHES.

You’ve always hated George Weasley. You can’t quite explain why, but the two of you have had bad blood since the moment you met freshman year. it’s nothing either of you said or did, just the general presence of the other always set something off in the two of you. however, you weren’t going to give up partying at his frat just because you hated the red haired boy.

warnings: alcohol & cussing, unconsensual touching but it isn’t graphic(not by george obv), mentions of sex and assault/sexual violence, violence and fratboy!georgie

i’m very serious when i say do not read this if you’re easily triggered or impacted by the theme of sexual assault. there is nothing graphic in this fic but i know it is very easy to be triggered by even the smallest mention. if you ever and i mean EVER need someone to talk to about anything pertaining to the topic, my messages are always open. dealing with sexual assault in any form is one of the most traumatising things a person can go through. please never hesistate to reach out if you’re struggling. i love you guys so much, i never want to go suffer in silence.

if you or someone you know if struggling with a rape or sexual assault, you can call 800.656.HOPE (4673) to be connected to a sexual assault service provider in your area. all my hugs and kisses to you all, i love you with all my heart❤️

saturday nights on campus are nothing short of lively for you and your friends. whether you’re testing your fake ids at every bar on the main street or dancing in a sweaty frat basement, there’s never been a dull weekend.

pike has always been your favorite fraternity to attend . you’d become close with some of the pledges on your floor your freshman year and have become obsessed with shutting down every function they hold at the house. there is one part of pi kappa alpha, however, that you could do without. george weasley.

the six three, red haired monster has been getting under your skin for an entire year now. since you met in your first semester of freshman year, you and george had never been on good terms. between the constant teasing from him or your drunk screaming matches that you’ve initiated almost every weekend, it’s safe to say that you two need to be kept as far away from each other as possible.

your friends have never understood the feud. they’ve always described george as one of the nicest guys they’ve ever met. he takes their coats at the door of every pike party to hide in his room to keep them safe from the drunk kleptomaniacs or vomit that inevitably spews from the mouth of a freshman girl. he’s always kept an eye out for your friends, but when it comes to you he swears if murder was legal you’d be six feet under by now.

as you and your friends got ready in your shared apartment for the night ahead of you, the annual pike’s peak ski themed party, you loathe the fact that you’ll be forced to see him again. you wish more than anything that he wasn’t so close with your friends, but alas, he is.

“y/n, can you please promise me something?” Angelina pleads, making you pause your makeup routine to look at her as if to say ‘go on.’ “no fighting with george tonight, we all need one night when the two of you aren’t at each other’s throats.”

if only it were that easy. there have been times in the past when angie and katie have convinced you to play nice with the boy, but he always ends up starting some type of fight with you.

“angie i’ve told you, i have no problem ignoring him for the good of the group,” you reiterate the countless times you’ve tried to prove to the girls that you’re the bigger person. “it’s him you should be talking to, he always starts it.”

katie sighs, already imagining the screaming match that will ensue tonight. “well if he starts something just walk away, easy as that.”

you mull it over for a minute. as much as ignoring him will make it seem like you’ve run out of insults, your vocal chords could use the rest this weekend. you agree to try and keep your mouth shut around george.

the three of you zip up your obnoxiously bright ski jackets over the black sports bras and jeans you’re wearing. you loved pikes peak, you could put in virtually no effort and still look like you spent hours getting ready.

the pike house is already buzzing with the bass of whatever mix oliver wood put together for the party. it’s not a pike party without ollie behind the dj booth. the high that you’re on as you walk past the pledges fades as your faced with george weasley.

just ignore him.

“look at my most beautiful groupies,” he says with a smile, scanning over angie and katie. “and...whatever that is.”

you can already feel your cheeks heat up with rage and your fists tighten. you take a deep breath and repeat katie’s words just an hour ago, ‘walk away.’ you roll your eyes at the boy and move your way through the party, eventually taking your spot next to ollie behind the dj stand.

“well hey there miss y/n,” ollie greets you, resting his headphone around his neck and pulling you into a hug. “half expected you to be beating weasley to a pulp by now.”

you laugh at his honesty, everyone expects some huge blow up between you and george within the first few minutes of a party. “trying something new, ignoring him for the night. can’t tire myself too much.”

ollie just smiles and goes back to the music. you’re adding songs to the queue and laughing along with him. you almost forgot how much you missed spending time with him, most of your interactions with the boy group ending with a fight with weasley without even being able to talk with the other boys.

across the room, george is watching you actually enjoy yourself and is fuming. he’s so used to being able to get under your skin, so you blowing him off was a major knock to his ego. he thrives on your reactions to his teasing, feeling like he doesn’t even have a purpose at this party now that you’re ignoring him.

you eventually leave oliver behind the booth and find angelina and katie, luckily they’re now where near george, rather dancing with his twin. you’ve always liked fred, but your constant arguing with his brother makes it hard for you to have any sort of friendship with him. this is the first pike party you’ve been to all year that you’re genuinely enjoying yourself. dancing with your friends, drinking without a care. the night is actually starting to look up.

you tell angie and katie that you’re off to the bathroom, the beers and seltzers finally catching up to your bladder. as you make your way through the crowd of people, you finally make it to the bathroom which is in the furthest corner of the house. before you can reach for the handle, someone is grabbing at your wrist.

“let’s go to my room.” the boy slurs, you turn to see a tall boy, far taller than you. you recognise his face but don’t know his name.

“no than-“

“i wasn’t asking,” he cuts you off and grabs your hip with his other hand. “come on i know you want to.”

“no just get off of me!” you yell trying to push his hands away from you but his death grin on your body doesn’t seem to be loosening. using your free hand you start beating the boys chest and that seems to just make him angrier. “you’re hurting me! just get off, i’m not coming to your room!”

even though you feel like your screaming the loud music seems to drown out the noise from anyone who could come and help you. even though the boy is obviously stronger than you, that doesn’t stop you from continuing to hit him in the hopes that his drunken state will take him off of you. your efforts are to no avail as his mouth connects with your neck, sucking harshly, making you scream out again. your head is thrashing, continuing to attempt to free yourself from his grasp.

“no! stop get off of me, please!” you shriek, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks. before you can realize what’s going on the boy is ripped from you and pinned up against the wall. you don’t even look to see what’s happening, just trying the catch your breath.

“she said no!” you immediately recognize the voice. george weasley. he fist connects with the boys jaw, almost knocking him unconscious as he’s still pushed against the wall. “what the fuck is wrong with you pucey! don’t you ever fucking touch her again!”

george still screaming as the boy you know realize is adrian pucey, is wailing in pain as george’s fists continue to meet his body. you don’t want to watch this anymore so you grab george’s hand before he can hit adrian again.

“stop, please.” it’s softer than you wanted it to come out but george still hears you. he drops adrian to the ground and takes a hold of your shoulders. even in the dark he’s examining your face for any sign of adrian’s abuse, his eyes land on the growing bruise on your neck and his fingers lightly trace over the mark. his other hands goes to your face, using his thumb to wipe the stream of tears.

“are you okay?” he asks quietly, eyes still trained on the hickey adrian unconsensually left on your neck. “i would’ve killed him.”

“why are you doing this, weasley?” you step back from him, crossing yours arms over your chest. “go on and tell everyone how you had to pull pucey off of me. how i was crying like a little baby. how helpless i was, i know that why you’re here.”

a flash a hurt crosses his face, he shakes his head. “is that really what you think of me?”

“of course it is, you’ve never given me a reason to think anything else,” you reply, wiping the remaining tears from your cheeks. “just leave weasley, i can’t take whatever’s going to come out of your mouth, not tonight okay? i could’ve handled this myself.”

“yeah you were doing a great job of handling it before i came it,” he scoffs and goes to walk away, kicking pucey one last time for good measure, but stops himself. “would you just stop arguing and follow me?”

you go to protest but figure you’re not in any mood to argue with him. he reaches his hand out to guide you through the sea of people but your arms stay folded against your chest. he rolls his eyes and leads you up the stairs and into a bedroom. you’d never been in his bedroom before. he goes into his closet to pull out a sweatshirt and tosses it your way.

“i’m not wearing this,” you tell him, throwing it back at him and he groans at your stubborn attitude. “why am i in your room, weasley?”

“does the word thank you not exist in your vocabulary?” he asks with a bitter tone. “i don’t care if you wear it, i’m leaving.”

he slams the door behind him and leaves you by yourself again. you look in the mirror on his wall at the disheveled sight looking back at you. your mascara collected under your eyes from your tears, the dark hickey from pucey on your cheek, bruises forming on your wrist and hip. you thought you had cried all the tears out before but seeing the damage he had done pulls sobs from your lips. you’re shaking at the memory of what happened, the thought of what could have happened. you collapse on george’s floor.

almost immediately the door swings open. you’re hoping maybe george told angie or katie and they were coming to take you home but it’s just george standing there. he never left his door, seeing pucey attack you like that made him fear that it might happen to you again. he quickly shuts the door behind him and crouches next to you as you struggle to catch your breath.

“hey, hey what’s going on you were fine a few second ago,” he tries to read your face but it’s hidden in your hands. “look at me, y/n, please.”

you lift your face to look him in the eyes. your puffy eyes and red cheeks make his heart sink. this is the first time he’s looked at you and felt something other than utter annoyance. you look so sad.

“i-i’m so s-scared,” you stutter through your speech. ��if you hadn’t come he could’ve, it would have turned into -”

“don’t talk like that,” he begs you, still staying a bit of a distance from you. “i was there, i stopped it. you’re safe now.”

once you calm down he pleads for you to lay down and get some rest. you finally take the sweatshirt from him and wrap it around your body. he leans down to crouch in front of you, your eyes still welled with tears. he pats your head and goes to leave. in reality he would be posted outside the door for the rest of the night, but he’d never tell you that. As he shuts off the lights and opens the door, you squeak out a plea, “can you stay? please.”

george hesitates, he knows showing any kind of compassion for you in this moment will inevitably put a rift in your strict enemies only relationship. the one he’s been so set on keeping since he started developing feelings for you last semester. the only way he could keep you close while also concealing his feelings was to pick those fights with you every weekend. this would change everything.

however, seeing you curled up in his bed, shaking under his blankets, your eyes wide with fear broke something in him. he let out a deep sigh before closing his door again and locking it behind him. he stands in place for a minute, unsure of what to do from here.

“george,” you call out, voice cracking. you hadn’t called him by his first name in months. “thank you.”

“you haven’t called me george in a while.”

“shut up, weasley,” you immediately reply, making george chuckle. he decides to sit on the edge of his bad facing you, watching you continue to shake as sporadic sobs come from your frail frame. it’s breaking his heart. He eventually comes up to lay beside you, careful not to touch you. partly due to the fact that he knows you’re probably traumatised by pucey’s attack on you and also partly due to him knowing he may not be able to control himself from taking you in arms until you stop your terrible shaking.

it wasn’t george that first moved closer, it was you. you weren’t sure if it was the fact that he just saved you from a potentially life shattering situation or the fact that his room felt like subzero but you wanted to be close to him.

“why is your room so cold?” you ask with a shiver. “i feel like i’m in the arctic.”

“don’t be such a baby it’s not that cold,” he scoffs, giving you the same tone he always has. something in you is disappointed, partly hoping that maybe this changed something. maybe you were overthinking him being so doting on you tonight. of course things wouldn’t be different. why would you want them to be? what he did tonight he would do for any girl in thai party. while you don’t get to see that side of him, angie and katie have always talked about how protective he is, you just never thought it would extend to you.

“why’d you help me?” you ask, staring at him dead in the eyes. his breath hitches, he’s not sure why. he would do it for anyone, no questions asked. he’s never been the guy to look the other way when a girl is hurting, but what was he doing all of this for you. surely he wouldn’t bring just anyone up to his room, he wouldn’t stay if they asked.

“i wasn’t going to let pucey hurt you like that, i wouldn’t let him do it to anyone,” he replies, hoping you’ll be off the topic from now on.

“you would’ve killed him if i hadn’t stopped you.” george thinks back to the moment. how angelina had pleaded for him to find you after you’d been gone for so long. how he heard your cries over the music, you screaming no. how pucey had himself attached to you and the rage bubbled over in him.

“would you come off of it?” he asked sternly, fearing if this conversation moved any further he would be confessing that he’s never actually hated you. “i forgot how annoying you were for a second there, i’m getting out of here.”

your heart sinks at his words. you were already in shambles and he decided to be his same old asshole self. it hurt. you immediately sat up and watched as he grasped the door handle but didn’t turn it.

“classic, something gets hard and you’re running away,” you spit at him. you needed someone there, you needed him there, and he was running off. “go on weasley, be the little bitch you are, run off and tell everyone how big bad george weasley beat up pucey just to leave me up in your room where he could for sure do it again.”

“you just love running that fucking mouth of yours don’t you?” george snaps, his face beginning to heat up. this is always how it starts. his tone is playfully arrogant until it switches completely. “you think i would just leave you in here where anyone could come in? are you really that stupid? i would’ve staid outside the fucking door all night if that’s what it took for you to sleep after ehat happened, i just can’t be in this fucking room with you.”

you roll your eyes at how dramatic he is. as if staying in a room with you for one night would kill him. in his mind, however, it might. seeing you curled up in his bed, in his clothes, begging for him to stay, it’s all too much for him to handle.

“yeah sure you would. you wouldn’t go chasing after your brother the second he called that some girl was asking for you. this is all for show, you’re trying to make me seem like the one you can’t coexist with you,” you shout. “then everyone can blame me for this stupid fucking fight we’ve been having for an entire year. you can be the innocent one, that’s it isn’t it?”

george can’t believe how blind you are. how you’ve failed to notice that every time you get up in his face to yell at him he loses his breath. that you can’t see that teasing you is his only way to keep you coming back to pike. that he almost killed pucey because he likes you. he so painfully likes you.

“you’re an idiot you know that?” he yells, taking his hand off the doorknob. “seriously how dumb can you be? you really think i’m doing all of this for my image?”

“then answer my fucking question, weasley,” you spit at him, becoming angrier every minute that he won’t admit his own obsession with how everyone perceives him. “why. are. you. helping. me.”

every word comes out dripping with the venom of your rage. getting george to admit he’s a self centered, self serving asshole will give you all the evidence you need to show katie and angie that this feud is his fault, not yours. he begins to pace around the room, hands going to his hair as he looks deep in thought. your eyes never leave him, watching as he slowly unwinds in front of you. it’s happening, he’s going to admit it.

“you want to know why? you really want to know why i’m doing all this? why i dedicate my fucking saturday nights to fighting with you? that’s what you really want?”

“that’s what i asked isn’t it?”

“because i fucking like you, okay?” he shouts, making your heart stop. your jaw is practically on the floor, this is not the confession you were expecting. his face softens along with his tone, “i like you.”

he’s quiet, almost inaudible over the muffled bass of the music coming from downstairs. you face hasn’t changed, your brain is empty. your completely unable to move. you begin to shake your head after a minute, repeating the words ‘no’ and ‘you’re lying.’

“fuck this,” george finally speaks up, going back to reach for the door. “have a nice life, y/n, don’t bother coming back here after tonight.”

“george stop!” you yell which makes him stop in his tracks. his first name again. it makes his heart ache. he can’t get involved, he can’t fall into your trap. he continues to make his way to get as far from you as he possibly can. “george i mean it! stop running away from me.”

you’re now off the bed, following close behind him. you’re swimming in his sweatshirt, the material falling just below your knees. you don’t know why you suddenly have the urge to touch him, to be with him but it’s there. him threatening you to never come back made your chest tighten, not because you’ll be missing parties, but you’ll be missing him. memories of your screaming matches flood your brain, the absolute high you’re on as you’re staring up at him after shouting something offensive his way. the way you can never seem to catch your breath when he’s around you. the fact that you continue coming back, knowing he’s going to hurt your feelings in some way or another, because it means you’ll be with him. as toxic and backwards as it seems, you’ve never hated george. you were utterly obsessed with him. when you finally reach him, grabbing his hand to stop him fleeing, his whole body snaps to turn toward you. he looks wild.

“what could you possibly have to say to me?” he shouts, making you step back. his words are fueled by anger and hatred. when he sees you back away from him, he immediately regrets his tone. “come to gloat? to make fun of me? save it, y/n. i don’t want to hear it.”

you don’t say a word. on the crowded staircase of your drunk classmates you do the last thing you could have ever imagined doing with george weasley. you kiss him.

he’s completely taken aback, freezing in his place as soon as he feels your soft lips against his. one hand is wrapped around the back of his neck and the other is holding his cheek. eventually, reality hits the boy and he’s pulling you into him by your hips. you wince in pain from the tender bruise aching on your hip from pucey’s hands and george immediately pulls away to see if you’re alright.

“god, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. i didn’t realize he hurt you so bad,” he starts to ramble on, keeping his hands off of you to keep from hurting you. “y/n, i’m — i just — i don’t know what to say.”

your hand is still on his face, your thumb stroking over his cheek bone. you can’t believe you had just kissed the boy you had sworn to hate for the rest of your life. pulling your hands away from your body you take a hold of his that are hovering inches away from your hips. you move they to lay against your waist and move yours to return to his face. you lean yourself back up toward him again, capturing his lips for the second time tonight. he didn’t hesitate this time, pulling you closer to him.

as soon as you pull away from each other, you’re soon walking back to his room hand in hand. he closes the door and flicks on the lights. being with him now feels astronomically different. the tension that once plagued any room you two shared has melted away.

“i didn’t want to pressure you into doing that,” he says softly, his palm resting on your cheek as the two of you sit only inches from each other on his bed. “especially after what pucey did to you, i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have been so harsh.”

you stop him from spiraling any further into a pit of blame. “i feel safe with you georgie, i wouldn’t have stayed in here with you, kissed you, if i didn’t. you know i’d be the last to admit this, but you saved me, i owe you one.”

a small smile tugs on his lips. he can’t help but feel his heart hammering against his ribs like it’s going a thousand miles and hour. “consider the debt repaid,” he replies, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i don’t think i would’ve ever been able to face you after tonight if you hadn’t come running after me.”

your smile mirrors his, unable to contain the butterflies in the pit of your stomach. the two of you just stare at each other for a while, trying to imprint this moment in your memory forever.

“can i kiss you again?” he asks, his lips so close that you can feel his breath against yours. you nod against his forehead, silently begging to feel his warmth again.

kissing george is like nothing you’d ever felt before. you spent your entire life kissing boys that meant nothing to you, this feels like home. his tongue slips into your mouth, exploring every inch of you, memorising how you feel as if you’ll be stolen from him at any second. he’s thought of this exact moment for months, every time you fought, every time he spoke to you, he imagined what it would feel like to have you like this.

“still feels like a tundra in here,” you tell him after you pull away. he takes you by your good wrist and urges you to lay next to him, his arms wrapping tightly around your body wishing he would never have to let go.

“better?”

“better.” you reply, letting you hand rest against his chest, feeling his heart beat. “this is not how i imagined this night going.”

“neither,” he says, running his fingers up and down your side. “never thought i’d get to hold you like this.”

your cheeks heat up, not from your usual rage but from the sudden rush on nerves. you don’t know how to act around him when you’re not about to beat his face in. he gently pulls your face from where it’s hiding in his chest to admire you. he presses his lips softly against yours, then moves to either cheek, then to your forehead.

“what happens now?” you ask, suddenly hit with the realization that you can’t go on with the feud that’s been bubbling between the two of you for the past year. you’ll have to tell your friends that you don’t hate each other anymore, that you did the unthinkable and kissed george weasley.

“i don’t care,” he says simply. “we could continue fighting until my dying breath, i just don’t want to be without you. ever.”

“what a little sap-fest you’ve become,” you tease holding yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at the boy. “who knew the george weasley could be so sentimental.”

“oh shut up,” he nudges your shoulder, pulling his arms from around you to rest behind his head. “you’re the one who kissed me, y/n, you started this.”

you let out a giggle, resting your head against his chest. you talk for hours about everything and nothing at all. eventually you hear the music die from downstairs, your phone buzzing with texts from angie and katie worried sick about where you ran off to. you tell them you’re fine and you’ll explain tomorrow. it’s an unspoken assumption that after all these months of fighting, you’ll be sleeping in george’s bed, cuddled up to him like you have been for the last few hours. you turn from your phone to see him stripping his shirt from his body, going to pull his khakis from his body and your heart stops.

“george i-” you start, not being able to form a coherent sentence. “i’m sorry but i can’t do anything like that, not tonight, not after what happened.”

his face turns down in worry, swiftly pulling a pair of sweats from his drawer to cover his bare legs. “oh my god, no y/n that’s not where i thought this was going at all. i usually sleep without a shirt on but it that makes you uncomfortable i can put one on. i’m so sorry i wasn’t even thinking.”

you sigh in relief, of course he wasn’t going to ask you to do anything like that after what he saw. you can’t believe you assumed that of him.

“no, no i’m sorry i know you would never,” you reply, rubbing your face between your palms. “i’m just on edge.”

he sits next to you, already holding a pair of boxers for you to wear and places them in front of you. he runs his hands up your arms. “don’t apologize to me, you’re allowed to be on edge after that. i should’ve been more conscious of that. i can go to the bathroom while you change if you want, unless you want to stay in your jeans.”

you shake your head, pulling the denim off your legs and replacing them with george’s boxers. you’re safe with him, you remind yourself.

“thank you, george,” you say quietly. “for everything.”

“i’d do it again, a hundred times over if i had to,” he tells you, pulling you into his arms to hold you. “do you want to talk about it?”

you shake your head no and he nods. he lays the two of you back and pulls his blankets other you. your head lays against his bare chest, feeling the most secure you have in your life. george’s breath eventually steadies as he slips into a deep sleep. it’s the easiest he’s ever been able to fall asleep, feeling completely comfortable with you in his arms. you fall asleep soon after him, the arms of george weasley and the walls of pi kappa alpha lulling you into the sweetest dreams.

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #frat boy george weasley #george weasley modern #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #harry potter imagine

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tangtownie · 4 years ago

Text

Ranny Daddy - Reader Insert x Ransom Drysdale (College AU)

Author’s Note: Okay, so this was supposed to be a quick re-write of an old story of mine but it kinda got away from me. This was originally about John Murphy from The 100, so if any of you want to thirst over him with me, drop into my inbox! ❤️

Anyway, College AU because the potential is just too damn great. An enemies to lovers kinda vibe, although they’re just FWB.

Also, the song inspo was one of my best friends that read this, and then told me that she’d found the perfect track to match it. So I listened to it, and agreed, and also realized that this story was really supposed to be about Ransom all along. So thank you, my darling! ❤️

About the title, I just… I don’t know. Before I started the re-write I had to name the document something, and when I was done, I kinda loved the title.

As always, dividers by the brilliant @firefly-graphics

Warnings: So… A lot of fucking cursing, smut, smut and smut, both reader and Ransom are kinda toxic bitches that are only soft for each other, kinda dub-con as reader is drunk when they get nasty, but she initiates it, Daddy kink, possessiveness and jealousy, unprotected sex. Ransom kinda switches between Dom!Daddy mode and soft!Daddy mode.

Song Inspiration: Violent Minds by VUKOVI

Word count: 4.283

The sound of his laugh was all it took. My stomach flipped and I could barely keep from jumping his bones right then and there. He had this douchy laugh, and it was just one of the things that I hated about him. He was crude, disrespectful and completely manipulative. He would always treat me like a plaything; grabbing my ass whenever he wanted, calling me every single pet name he could think of and of course, threatening to beat up any guy that got too close. It was honestly just so offensive and belittling and so damn sexy.

The scowl that always rested on his face, his rough hands that were always toying with me. God, how could someone so stupid be so damn intoxicating? I was not even sure how it all started, just that ever since I first slept with him, my body had been craving his like he was a damn drug. We had absolutely nothing in common and my friends all hated him, just as his friends all hated me. Another loud and obnoxious laugh drew my attention back to his group and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at those idiots. Ransom actually had quite the following and of course, they were all morons.

“Ugh, could you imagine actually dating one of those guys?” My friend Katy’s voice was the first thing in a while to pull my attention from Ransom. I was pretty jealous of that skank sitting in his lap and flipping her hair around like it was nobody’s business, not that I would ever tell him or anyone that. “Ugh, tell me about it.” I decided to turn my back on the scene, knowing that if I did not I would keep staring at them and probably see something that I did not want to see. Katy quickly sat down next to me and started going on about some rapport that was due in a few weeks. It was a typical day for us, meeting in the cafeteria for coffee and gossip in between lectures.

I leaned my back against the table and tried not to cringe at the excited squeal coming from the girl in Ransom’s lap. “God, what about having some self respect?” Katy questioned and I shot her a confused look. “That girl in Drysdale’s lap? I mean it’s not like there aren’t any chairs available. And those constant hair flips? Like “Oh my god, my hair is so fake but if I just keep flipping it around, maybe no one will know.”” I could not help the loud laugh falling from my lips as Katy finished talking.

She laughed happily with me and I pretended not to notice Ransom staring daggers at me, as him and his little posy had clearly heard everything Katy said. “Fucking sorority girls.” I was still laughing, a little louder than usual just to make sure Ransom heard. “Anyway, babe, I have to get to class. But swing by my place later, alright?” I quickly gathered my things, before pecking Katy’s cheek. “Of course! Bye babe.” She gave my ass a little slap as I walked away and I couldn’t help the smile on my lips, already feeling my mood improving.

Finally making my way across campus, I slipped into my usual spot next to Eric just before class started. I pulled out my books and laptop. “I swear to god this class is going to be the end of me!” Eric sighed dramatically. “Hon, you say that about all of them.” I couldn’t help but laugh at the offended face he shot me. “I’m serious. College is just too damn hard.” I huffed slightly as I nodded in agreement.

“You got that right.” College was hard, but I had also never felt as at home as I did here. I had my own little apartment just off of campus and it was a crapbox, but it was my crapbox. I had made some great new friends that were just as sarcastic and bitchy as me. And I was finally studying psychology. I did not really know what I wanted to use it for, but I also did not care. As cliché as it sounded, I was having the time of my life.

As per usual, Eric and I were the last to leave class, taking much too long to pack up our things and laughing as we did. Making our way back to the main building, my phone buzzed and I reached into my pocket to check it. As I saw whom the text was from and what it said, my breath hitched in my throat.

RD: “Your tits look great in that top 😜”

My eyes quickly scanned the vicinity, searching for him. Before I found him, my phone buzzed again.

RD: “Why are you wasting your time on that loser when you know how good I make you feel?”

I did not realise that I had stopped walking until Eric’s hand was on my arm. “Hon, are you okay?” His warm green eyes peered into mine curiously. “Yeah.” I quickly cleared my throat and shook my head trying to rid it off the flashes of my latest adventure with Ransom. “Yeah, I’m great. I just thought I dropped something.” I could not tell if he really believed me or not, so instead I started talking again.

“Anyway, Katy’s coming over, so I should run. But I’ll see you soon, okay?” He nodded quickly and waved at me as I started walking backwards, away from him. Once he started walking as well, I turned around to see where I was going and almost immediately crashed into someone. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed. I dropped to the ground to help pick up the things that I had so rudely pushed from their arms.

“Well, how could I complain when you just dropped to your knees in front of me?” Ransom’s smug voice made the hairs on my arm stand up and I slowly got back up. “Hmm… Well, don’t get used to it, baby.” I smirked at him before offering his notes back to him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with someone I actually want to see.” As I pushed past Ransom and his friends, a quiet gasp went through the group and I knew I would pay for that one soon enough.

When I made it home, I was greeted by what looked like a bomb crater and I was reminded of my stressful morning and the fact that I needed some new batteries for my alarm. I went into my bedroom to put my bag down and change into something comfier. I reached for my black cotton pencil skirt and tossed my jeans over the chair. I decided to take my top off as well, wearing only the skirt and my cropped flannel.

Katy was supposed to be here soon, so I ducked back out to living room and started cleaning up. I had managed to get the worst of it, just as there was a knock on my door. “Come in.” Katy quickly poked her head through the door opening, a smile covering her entire face. “Ugh, babe, you will not believe what happened today!” I could not help but mirror her smile as I looked at her. “Why? What happened?”

She put her bag down next to the door before riding herself of her coat and shoes. “I got the job!” She squealed and started jumping up and down. “What? Oh my god! That is amazing!” I squealed right back at her and ran towards her to jump around with her. “I know! They called me just as I was getting out of Brit Lit. Oh, I just can not believe that I will be working at a real publishing house!” Her squealing was reaching dangerous heights and I almost could not make out what she said, but that did not stop me from continuing to jump around squealing with her.

After hours of dishing, drinking and celebrating, Katy finally had to go home. Pouting, I followed her out to the front door, watching her quietly as she put her coat and shoes on. “Text me, when you’re home safe, okay?” I asked. She shot me a quick smile. “Of course, babe. I always do.” She gave me a quick hug and then made her way out the door. I wandered back into the living room again and started cleaning up, again. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Confused I made my way back to the door. “Babe? Did you forget something?” I asked, pulling the door open. The face that greeted me however was not Katy’s.

“Hugh?” The surprise was as evident in my voice as it probably was on my face. He was leaning against the doorframe smirking down at me. “God, I thought she would never leave.” He practically growled as he pushed his way past me. “No, please. Come on in.” The sarcasm was dripping from my voice, as I closed the door after him. When I came back into the living room, he was smirking again. “Looks like you girls had fun.” He looked sceptically at the empty bottles of wine and then back to me.

He smiled slightly as he noticed, that I was swaying a little. “Yeah, well, we did. Why are you here, Hugh?” I said, stumbling a little as I reached for my wine glass. “Oh no, I think you’ve had plenty.” Ransom quickly snatched it from my hand before I could empty it. I pouted again, trying to take it back from him. In my drunken struggle for my own damn drink, I did not even notice the breath hitching in Ransom’s throat as the buttons of my flannel had come undone and my chest pressed against his or the way he tensed slightly, as I whined in his ear, before giving up and resting my head on his shoulder.

“You smelly really good.” I mumbled as I nuzzled my face in his shoulder, slowly wrapping my arms around him. He laughed quietly before resting a hand on my lower back. “You’re so drunk.” His tone was almost gentle. A giddy smile broke out on my lips, as I looked back up at him. “You’re being nice to me.” I said quietly before continuing. “Don’t get me wrong, your douchy holier-than-thou attitude is sexy as hell, but I don’t think you have ever been nice to me before.” His eyes sparkled at me and that signature smirk crept over his lips again.

“Sexy as hell, huh? And here I was starting to think that you were getting tired of me.” Shocked, I quickly shook my head no but had to stop as I stumbled slightly again. Ransom’s arms locked around me and held me tight against his chest. “I could never get sick of you, Hugh. I mean, you’re not a very nice person and I don’t actually think we have anything in common, but fuck… I cannot get you of my mind and I am not even sure why. It can’t just be the sex, even though the sex is pretty damn great.”

I let my head fall onto his chest again and sighed deeply. “Stay with me.” His hands squeezed my hips in response. “Sure, babygirl. I’ll stay.” A shiver made it’s way down my spine at the pet name. “Fuck, I love that.” I mumbled before pressing a hard kiss to his lips. Ransom’s grip on my hips tightened and I lingered there for a while, loving the feeling of his hands on my hips and the warm feeling of his skin against mine. Slowly pulling away for air, I took his hand in mine and lead him to my bedroom.

As we reached my bedroom Ransom’s hand fell from mine. I wandered over to the chair and softly tugged my skirt off, before turning to face him. “What are you waiting for? Strip.” My words seemed to pull him from his thoughts as his eyes went from scanning me all over to looking straight in my eyes. “What?” He sounded like he was choking on the word. I walked over to him, closing the distance between us again. My hands quickly grabbed the edge of his shirt and started pushing it up his chest.

“Strip.” I raked my nails carefully over his nipples and a light moan escaped his lips, before he helped me pull his shirt all the way off. Our eyes met again and for a few seconds we just stared at each other. He gently reached out and started unbuttoning the few remaining buttons on my flannel. As he did the last one, his hand moved up to my shoulder and slowly pulled it off. I let my fingers wonder about his chest again, tracing invisible patterns.

An impatient huff left his lips before he roughly grabbed my neck and crashed his lips onto mine. Almost instantly, I kissed him back. I let my arms settle around his neck and pulled myself even closer to him. Our teeth clanged together, as he greedily tried to swallow every breath of mine. His other arm snaked around my waist as he started guiding me back to my bed. Suddenly, he shoved me onto the bed and he smiled as my boobs bounced from the contact with the bed. I let myself get comfortable, knowing that Ransom liked to watch me. I let one hand twirl around some hair while the other rested comfortably on my bare stomach. My eyes locked with his again, as I patiently waited for him to join me.

Too much time had passed and I was starting to get cold and frankly also a little annoyed with him. “Come on, Hugh, just-“ His sharp voice interrupted me. “No.” There was a playful light behind his glaring eyes. “No?” I questioned, as I sat up. “Exactly, babygirl, you know that’s not my name.” A shiver travelled down my spine again at the pet name and Ransom noticed it, smirking from ear to ear. “What are you talking about, Hugh? Of course, that’s your name.” He shook his head, still glaring at me, before leaning down to whisper in my ear.

“You know it’s not. And if you keep calling me that I might just have to punish you, babygirl.” My breath hitched in my throat as his scent took over my senses. He was so close; he smelled divine and damn it, if I hadn’t been thinking about this all day. I had to close my eyes to keep from pouncing on him. As everything I had been fantasising about all day started flooding through my mind, I remembered the last time Ransom and I had been here and a smile curled around my lips, before I opened my eyes and spoke.

“Oh, so Daddy wants to play, huh?” My tone was low and breathy. A strangled gasp escaped his lips at the pet name. “It must be my lucky day then, because I’ve just spend all damn day thinking about Daddy’s rough hands pinning me down while his big beautiful cock pounds into me.” I barely got the last word out before Ransom was all over me, pinning me to the bed with a ravenous growl. His entire body pressing against mine, as he kissed me like it might be the last thing he ever did.

My hands quickly tangled themselves in his hair and I arched my hips up to meet his. Ransom‘s teeth sank into my bottom lip and he tugged harshly on it. I couldn’t help the loud moan falling from my lips or my hands tugging harshly on his hair. His hands roughly grabbed my hips, his fingers digging into the skin as he pushed me upwards. A whimper escaped my lips when I couldn’t reach his any longer and I could feel him smirk against my throat. He slowly made his way down my body, sucking and licking all over, leaving a trail of hickeys over my neck, chest and stomach.

He stopped just as he reached my thong and I almost could not bear to look at him; so sinfully gorgeous, his hair falling into his beautiful blue eyes and his thin pretty lips already swollen and red. One of his hands moved to my thong, hooking his fingers inside of it and slowly pulling it down. I squirmed impatiently and he laughed at me. He casually flung it over his shoulder, before suddenly plunging two of his fingers deep inside of me.

I gasped loudly, surprised by his rough actions and clenched around his fingers. My eyes fell shut as he build up a steady rhythm and I relaxed again, relishing in having him so close to me. “No, no, babygirl, got to keep your eyes on me.” A strangled moan escaped my lips, as I struggled to focus on him. Our eyes locked and I watched him closely, as his gaze never fell from my face despite his fingers being buried knuckles deep inside of me and him placing shallow kisses on my lower stomach. He smirked at me again. “You’re such a good little girl, aren’t you? So eager to please Daddy.”

His deep voice rumbled against my skin and my hands forcefully grabbed the sheets to keep from pulling on his hair. “Look, how responsive you are, babygirl. You fucking love this, don’t you?” He curled his fingers inside of me and I panted loudly as he brushed against my g-spot. I could feel the pleasure building and knew that I wouldn’t be able to hold it in much longer. As Ransom mercilessly poked at my most sensitive spot, I could not help but lift my hips up, trying desperately to create some friction. He chuckled deeply before pinning my hips to the mattress. “Easy, babygirl. We’re almost there. Just relax.” His hand slowly crept across my stomach, until it reached my waist. Before I registered what had happened, Ransom had pulled his fingers from me and quickly turned me, so that I was on my stomach.

Surprised and confused, I let out a huff of air. “Hugh, what the-“ A high-pitched moan interrupted my sentence as he smacked my ass. I panted harshly, both from surprise and pleasure. At first it stung, but I couldn’t even pretend not to like it. His hands settled on my hips again, before he pulled me to him. My ass was flush against the front of his jeans as I was supporting my weight on my arms. “I told you, that’s not my name.” His deep voice made the goose bumps rise on my skin and a low moan escaped my lips.

He was so damn hot like this, all rough and angry and dominating. “You better play nice, if you don’t want me to stop.” He hummed slowly as his hand caressed the spot that he had just slapped and I grinded my ass against him. His erection was pressing tightly against me and all I could think of was having him inside of me again. “Daddy, please.” I impatiently begged for him and relished in the moan he tried to suppress. Another slap was delivered to my ass and this time I did nothing to hide how much I loved it.

A pornstar-like moan fell from my lips as I threw my head back and grinded against him again. His hands fell from me but before I could complain, I heard the sound of his pants being unzipped and seconds later they were thrown to the floor next to my bed along with his boxers. Ransom roughly slid his fingers through my folds, collecting my wetness and I arched my back at his touch. A sinful slurping sound filled the room as Ransom sucked my wetness from his fingers. “You taste so damn good, babygirl.” He hummed softly, as I moaned back, loving his filthy words.

His hands wrapped around my hips again and he pulled me harshly against him. His hard dick was rubbing all over me and I was loosing my damn mind from all of his teasing. I opened my mouth, completely ready and willing to beg for him again, just before he slid into me. A high-pitched whimper fell from my lips as he bottomed out and I relished in the feeling of being full of him.

Too quickly he pulled out, before slamming back into me. “Fuck.” Ransom grunted from behind me, building a fast and hard rhythm. His fingers were digging into my hips, trying to pull me as close as physically possible. I arched my back up and was met with his warm chest against my back. His hot, laboured breath was falling down my neck and only drove me closer to the edge. One of my hands tangled themselves in his hair and the other desperately grabbed his arm, digging my nails into his skin.

“You take me so well, babygirl. Letting my cock pound into you while you moan like a damn pornstar. You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Ransom’s voice was raspy against my neck and I almost lost my mind, when he intertwined our fingers and wrapped our arms around my waist. My legs started to shake beneath me and I let my head fall on his shoulder as he continued pounding into me. I moaned loudly as he pressed against my g-spot. “Just like that, baby. Take it. You’re mine.” Ransom practically growled in my ear, as he sped up.

He led me back down on the bed, pressing his lips to my neck and shoulders. His hand resting next to my head as he continued fucking me from behind. His other arm was still wrapped together with mine and around my waist, lifting my ass up slightly to meet him. Every time he thrusted into me, I moaned loudly, trying desperately not to fall over the edge just yet. My walls clenched around him and all I could see, hear or feel was Ransom.

“Mine.” He grunted harshly. “All mine.” My hand desperately reached for something to grab, but only found my sheets. “Yours.” I was surprised by my own voice, but it was like I had lost all control of it. “I’m yours, Ransom, any time, any day. All yours.” His head rested in the crook of my neck and he slowed down his thrusts. Slowly dragging himself out, before slowly pushing himself back in but never missing my most sensitive spot. “Ranny, Daddy, please. Please let me come.”

The desperate plea also left my lips without me controlling it. His hand flew to my clit and rubbed fast circles on it. A loud moan fell from my lips and my knuckles were turning white from grasping at the sheets. “Just let go, babygirl. I’ve got you.” I could feel the vibrations of Ransom’s voice through his chest and with a loud whine I finally let go. My eyes rolled back into my head as I clenched and unclenched repeatedly around him. My arms gave in and my pillow muffled the moans and profanities mixed in with his name.

He continued thrusting into me, riding out my high until he stilled. He was deep inside of me as I felt him release inside me. His loud groaning of my name, eliciting even more clenching on my behalf while his hips continued grinding into mine. My loud whimper mixed in with his panting as he slowly pulled out of me. He collapsed beside me on the bed and suddenly grabbed my face, slamming his lips back onto mine. His tongue eagerly met mine and I hurriedly wrapped my legs around his hips, trapping him there.

As I broke away for air, Ransom kissed his way down my neck and I could not stop the question falling from my lips. “Did you mean what you said?” He hummed softly against my neck, before biting down on one of the hickeys he had left there earlier. “Well,” he said as he broke away from my neck to look me in the eyes. “The sex is pretty damn great and I can’t seem to stop thinking about you.” He brushed a few wayward strands of my hair away gently. “Not even when you’re completely ignoring me or making fun of my friends or pretending that you aren’t jealous of the girl sitting in my lap.”

A blush quickly spread across my cheeks at his last comment. “I didn’t think you noticed.” I said while running my fingers over his chest. “Oh, baby, I always notice you. Besides, it’s not like you could hide anything from me any more. I know all your tells.” His signature smirk was plastered on his lips again. “So the skank from today?” I couldn’t help but ask. A small laugh left Ransom’s lips. “Was just a skank that means nothing to me, yeah. Now, what about that boy-toy of yours?” Ransom narrowed his eyes at me in suspicion. “My boy-toy is named Eric and is actually gay.” I said and smirked at him.

“What?” The surprise was evident in his voice. “Yeah. I actually think that you know his boyfriend Liam. Apparently, he’s in a lot of your classes.” I shrugged as I finished talking. Ransom wrapped one of his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. “Jesus, how the hell did I not know that? I’m a damn idiot.” I rested my head on his chest, before speaking. “Yeah, but I guess you’re my idiot now.”

#imagine #chris evans #reader insert #ransom drysdale #fan fiction #smut #reader x ransom #reader x ransom drysdale

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saigonharrington · 4 years ago

Text

Wish you were sober // g.w

I am sorry but I had another idea in my mind so I wrote it.

It’s angsty and fluffy at the same time. I don’t know, I feel like I am writing down all that stuff just to make myself feel better since I can’t shift 🤧

Also I have a lot of ideas and I thought about doing a songlist? Where you can request something with certain character (I mean I already have ideas so if no one will be requesting I just write it as I created it) and I think I would be able to write for Cedric Diggory, Oliver Wood and Stiles Stilinski from teen wolf. If someone asks for another character I might have reject it if I do not like that character or do not know it so well. I don’t really like ( or can) writing smuts, about death or pregnancy sorry. But I’ll tell more in songlist post. Just tell me if at least one person is interested in this please?

Now back to the one shot

George Weasley x fem!reader

Word count: 2,2k I guess

Y/F/N - your friend’s name

No specific year, I also didn’t want to make specific house but Y/N is not from gryffindor because of the long walk to dorms.

I don’t want to write summary because I feel like I will spoil everything. Just read it.

Warning: drinking, people being drunk and telling things, Y/N issues about low self-esteem and things like that oh and mistakes & mix of American and British English probably

Also it means a lot to me if you reblog and/or comment my work 🥺🥺 so please do it I love to integrate with you guys

Hogwarts has always been a magical place. And I do not mean literal magic. Just the atmosphere that this place held. So now imagine how parties at common rooms looked like. Especially when it was the birthday party of famous quidditch commentator - Lee Jordan. He had friends in all the houses, so Gryffindor’s common room was overcrowded that day.

The whole room was decorated with funny and random stuff found at the last minute. Fred and George organized everything, so even though decorations looked a bit odd, there was a lot of food and alcohol. I didn’t really like the feeling of being drunk, so I only drank a little champagne while we sang happy birthday. Unfortunately, not a lot of people thought the same. Seems like I am the only one person who is sober.

I came to the party with my one and only friend, since I wasn’t so talkative, and I considered myself an introvert, but now I regretted that I do not have more people to talk to. Y/F/N’s liked partying. Even if she swore she’ll be by my side for the whole night, I lost her after like ten minutes. There I was, sitting here all alone, observing everyone closely. Frankly speaking, I was looking for one specific person, the party maker - George Weasley. I fancied him for almost a year now, since he sat next to me at potions, and snapped back at Snape that one time when he wanted to humiliate me for the mistake that I made then. We talked from time to time, but it wasn’t that deep, just random things like “How was your day?” or complaining about teachers. Then why did I feel butterflies every freaking time he looked and smiled at me? I’d like to know. He sat behind me and Y/F/N at some lessons and I think sometimes he was eavesdropping, but maybe I’m just going insane to prove that maybe somehow he likes me back.

And then I saw him. Dancing with his friends’ group and being really close to some girl, I think her name was Katie. I immediately felt something in my stomach, but definitely not butterflies. It was jealousy. Why I was like that? We weren’t even friends, he would not look at me like that, who could want to have a crush on a girl that isn’t beautiful and open to people? Who’s afraid of commitment and physical contact. Probably, or should I say, for sure - no one.

“I think I’m gonna go back to our dorm.” I said to Y/F/N when I finally found her.

“Okay. Do what you want. Just do not cry, please. Take care of yourself, we’ll talk tomorrow.” She replied, turning back to her dance partner. I exited the common room, wanting to walk back to my dorm, but something held me back.

“Wait.” Said someone with a familiar voice, so I stopped. “I want to talk.”

“Why?” I asked, wandering slowly through the corridor.

“Just wanted to make sure that you’ll get back safe to your dorm.” He explained, which made me blush.

“That’s sweet, but maybe you should worry about yourself. You’re drunk as a skunk”

“I feel perfectly fine. I can walk straight by your side, so I don’t see the problem.” George laughed hiding hands in the pockets.

“Get to the point, I do not want to argue at the moment.” I said, yawning.

“Why did you walk out of the party? I feel offended. You know, I half-organized that, so it’s also half-my-fault.”

“I came there with my friend, but she definitely does not need me anymore. And I am not the greatest friend of Lee, so why would I like to stay?”

“Well, you could talk with me. And drink with me, it would be fun since I never really saw you relaxed.”

“I’d feel relaxed if I wouldn’t have to take care of someone drunk.”

“You talk about me?”

“I’m not drunk so answer yourself. Maybe you should go back to your common room. I bet your girlfriend waits for you.”

“Which one?” He asked playfully, but I wasn’t in the mood for joking.

“I think her name is Katie.”

“That’s not my girlfriend. Why did you think so?”

“You were pretty close tonight…”

“Oh, so you were watching me?”

“I’m just quite observant. I wasn’t stalking you.” I lied. As soon as I saw him in the crowd I couldn’t take my eyes off him. And he didn’t notice but only because of alcohol.

“That’s a shame. Because if I saw you earlier, I’d stare at you for the whole night. You dressed nicely.”

“Thank you. Can I go to my dorm now? I want to sleep.”

“Yeah let’s go.” George said, opening the door.

“You’re not going with me. Please go back to the party. They are probably looking for you.”

“I don’t want to go because it’s you I want to spend the time with. Don’t you get it Y/N?” He asked. “I fancy you.”

“I wish you were sober if you plan to exclaim things like that. Please don’t make fun of me, it’s not funny.” I said calmly, becoming extremely sad.

“I’m not joking.”

“You will not remember this tomorrow, please let me go.”

“Y/N now you’re joking. Can’t you see it? I really like you. A lot. But you never let me talk to you for long. Your friend is always by your side, and she terrifies me. I never got the time to admit my feelings.”

I wanted to feel happy. I really did. But how could I? He won’t remember it tomorrow, and I am gonna be the one who’s heartbroken because I won’t have the courage to speak to him about it. What if he denies what he said? What am I supposed to do?

“You’re drunk, and you don’t know what are you talking about. You have probably mistaken me for someone else.

“Gosh, you’re so oblivious. Why can’t you understand that I love you.” He shouted, starting to get angry.

“Maybe I don’t want to! I don’t want to. Okay? Why would you love me? Look at yourself, you’re so funny and outgoing and generous... We don’t belong together. You don’t desire to be with a person like me, trust me. Now please go away. Please.” I said with tears in my eyes, then I walked to the dorm, trying to cover my face. I made sure that George won’t follow me by putting a spell on the door. Y/F/N will know how to break it if she comes late.

I didn’t have the energy to change clothes, so I stayed like that, crying myself to sleep.

The next day I woke up looking like a monster. I had messy hair and my clothes were crumpled.

“Seems like I wasn’t the one having a rough night.” My friend started, after looking at me. “But you weren’t drinking, what happened? I saw you and George walking…”

“He said that he loves me.” I explained with no emotions.

“It’s good, right? You have a crush on him, then what’s the problem?”

“He was drunk, he probably didn’t mean it. And he doesn’t remember it today for sure.”

“That’s not true, I heard that people are actually honest after drinking.” She added.

“How could he love me? I’m unlovable. He probably joked.”

“Hey, I love you, so I’m pretty sure he is able to too. Let’s go for breakfast. Maybe we’ll see him, and he’ll be kind enough to talk to you and explain what he had in his mind.”

But he wasn’t. Y/F/N and I were staring at him for the whole thirty minutes, but he wasn’t able to even look up. He looked sad, but maybe it’s because of not remembering a thing. Or he feels embarrassed.

Y/F/N tried to cheer me up through the day, but nothing was working. The fact that we crossed paths with George a couple of times made me feel even worse. Why did I expect him to talk to me? If he doesn’t remember anything, then he doesn’t know that we talked. Maybe I should make the first move.

“Do it.” Y/F/N encouraged me. “Otherwise you will not know what he has in mind. Sometimes you gotta help the man to open up. And don’t run away. Just explain to him why you’re afraid of commitment and stuff like that. He’ll understand.”

“Do you think so? I doubted. “I need to be like three hundred percent sure.”

‘Yes, go to him! He’s now only with his brother, you have a chance.”

I wasn’t so sure and confident as Y/F/N expected me to be. But I didn’t want to disappoint her and cause more problems, so I decided to at least try to talk to him. The worst he can do is make me cry, it’s nothing new since it happened last night, so no need to be afraid.

“Hey, um, can I talk with George?” I asked, therefore Fred nodded and walked away to their friends. “Do you have something to tell me?” I asked another question directly to him.

“You came to me. Don’t you have something to tell?”

“Actually I wanted to ask if you remember anything from last night.”

“Merlin, have I done something stupid? I knew I shouldn’t drink that much.” He tried to break the tension.

“Yeah you said a lot of stupid things. You kind of confessed to me that you… you know.” I couldn’t even say the word ‘love’.

“Oh I remember this. But it wasn’t dumb since it’s true.” He said trying to make eye contact.

“So why do I feel like you were avoiding me?”

“I was. Because I also remember your reaction.”

“I’m sorry. Maybe I overreacted a bit…” I started explaining.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to make excuses. I get it.”

“No George, it’s not like that. I do want to be with you. I like you. I just don’t think I’m able to. I don’t feel ready for these kinds of things. It’s new.”

“You shouldn’t have to worry. And don’t be afraid of something new. How can you know what it will look like if you don’t want to try? I don’t like you just because you’re pretty. It is one of the reasons, but not the main one. I like you because you’re you. Because you’re making cute, funny faces when Snape says something to you, because of your little dance when you get a good grade. I noticed many things you do. And we don’t even have to rush, I want you to open to me, talk a little more and spend some time alone. I want to help you.”

“Well, maybe you’re right. So what does that make us?”

“What do you want us to be? I’ve just said that I can wait. You know how I feel about you, so now it’s your turn. It won’t hurt me if you want to be friends. I know I have to gain your trust. We have to get to know each other.”

“I’m ready to do it.” The courage appeared sudeenly and I don’t know why, but I liked it.

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now, do you have something else to do?”

“No, I would love to spend time with you.”

We went to the library, where we sat in the corner and talk quietly about random things. It turned out that we have a lot in common, and I feel pretty comfortable around him. I managed to speak about all of my issues and I didn’t cry. Maybe building a healthy relationship wasn’t that hard?

“You know George?” I changed the subject. “You said that you remember what I did yesterday. I admitted that I fancy you. And you fancy me back. What can possibly go wrong? If two people like each other in that way, they can be friends and lovers at once. I guess it is like that. I base my knowledge on the muggle movies so correct me if I’m wrong. What I’m trying to say is…” I panicked and turned my face to the other side.

“Y/N.” George called my name and gently put his hands on my cheeks to make me see him. “Can I kiss you then?” He asked for permission so I nodded slowly.

“I’m sorry if I’m a bad kisser. You’ll be my first.” I spoke the truth.

“Don’t worry, you’re gonna learn since I’m planning to kiss you every two minutes.” He leaned to me and kissed me slowly, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

It was amazing, I opened up to him and for once I cried happy tears. My friend would be so proud.

“Does that make me your girlfriend?”

“See, you’re getting cocky. I like that.”

“Answer the question, Weasley.”

“Godric, why the surname? I didn’t do anything bad. But yes. You can be my girlfriend.”

“Well, thank you for your kind acceptance.”

“I didn’t know that I signed up for that much sassiness.”

“You can always break up with me, I won’t stop you.”

“No can do. You won’t get rid of me so easily. Now let’s go, we have to tell Freddie and your friend.”

And with that we left the library, smiling so wide that we looked like psychopaths.

#hp #Harry Potter #hp fanfic #Harry Potter fanfic #George #weasley #George weasley #George weasley x reader #George weasley one shot #george weasley imagines #Oliver wood #Cedric diggory #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #Spotify #George weasley angst #George weasley fluff

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themysteryofwriting · 4 years ago

Text

5 Times Something was Wrong with Pidge and the One Time they Realized what it meant

TW: Dysphoria, Self-Doubt, Unintentional Misgendering

(A/N:This is dedicated to the person in the enby pidge tag who told me I couldn't headcanon enby Pidge. You filled me w/ enough rage to write this.)

How ironic was it that it was the announcement to the team telling them that she was a girl that started Pidge’s realization.

She thought it would bring a weight off her chest, the secret she had been keeping from most of the team finally revealed.

And yet...that wasn’t the case.

All Pidge could feel was this...sinking feeling as she told them. Like there was something wrong in what she was telling them. And that sinking feeling only got worse as everyone except Lance told her that they already knew.

Pidge could tell something was wrong but she couldn’t tell what. Shouldn’t she feel better after telling them? Why did she feel so much worse instead? Pidge wasn’t a boy so...why did it feel so wrong being called a girl?

Pidge..didn’t want to think about it. She was probably overreacting. After all she had been living with nothing but guys for months and pretending to be one, that was bound to mess with her a bit.

Pidge tried to push down the feeling she was getting in her gut that something was off. And for the most part she succeeded.

At least she did until she walked in on Hunk and Lance talking about her.

“...I still can’t believe I didn’t realize Pidge was a girl Hunk,” Lance groaned, complaining to his fellow Paladin, “I mean it’s soo obvious now, I should have realized she was a girl back in the Garrison.”

Lance clearly hadn’t noticed Pidge yet, as Pidge was pretty sure he wouldn’t be saying this if he knew that she was right behind her.

But as she heard Lance talking, she froze as the sinking feeling returned with a passion. If she had thought it had felt bad telling everyone she was a girl, that was nothing compared to hearing Lance call her a girl.

Pidge had planned to get a drink from the kitchen, but they had to go through the common room to do that and they just...couldn’t. Not with this terrible sinking feeling in her stomach.

Pidge quickly walked away, not even noticing the two had stopped talking and someone was calling out to her.

Wanting to ignore the weird feeling in her chest, Pidge threw herself into some projects. It was easy to forget about what she was feeling when she was working on things.

It was maybe too easy sometimes that she tended to forget to keep track of time when she was working on stuff.

She hadn’t even noticed how late it was until Shiro came into the lab.

“Pidge, how long have you been working,” Shiro called as they walked in, making Pidge jump a little.

“Uhhh I think it’s only been an hour or two,” Pidge lied, hoping Shiro would buy it.

But glancing back at Shiro, Pidge could tell that wasn’t the case.

“Pidge, it’s late, bedtime.”

Pidge groaned, but listened, knowing Shiro would make her if she didn’t, and headed to her room to get ready for bed.

Pidge sighed as they went to change into some more comfy clothes to sleep in. As the started to change they glanced over at the mirror and the weird feeling they had started moving on from their stomach, instead crawling all over their skin.

Wanting the feeling to go away, they quickly shoved the hoodie they were planning on sleeping in.

Immediately the feeling went away, leaving Pidge with a question as they headed to bed.

How long had it been since they were last able to look at themselves in the mirror?

Pidge shook it off, it was probably nothing, and besides she needed to head to bed before Shiro actually came in to check on her like he tended to do when he was worried people weren’t taking care of themselves.

The next day, Pidge was planning on heading back to the lab, after all they didn’t want to think about...whatever happened yesterday anymore than they had to.

And it wasn’t like anyone was going to treat her differently now that she had told them she was a girl right?

As it turned out, the answer to that was a no as Allura came to talk to her while she was eating breakfast.

“Oh Pidge! Good you’re here!”

Pidge flinched a little, having not heard Allura approach. Why did the Alteans have to be so fucking quiet all the time.

“Is there something you need Allura,” Pidge asked, then wincing slightly at how blunt that was, “Sorry I didn't get much sleep last night.”

Wasn’t a complete lie. Pidge had tossed and turned a bit last night, thinking over the weird feeling they kept getting.

Allura nodded in understanding. She probably thought it was nightmares, not whatever Pidge was dealing with.

“Anyways I was thinking, I saw in some of your pictures that you liked to wear dresses when you were younger. I was wondering if you’d like some of my old ones.”

Pidge hesitated for a second. Something about the idea of wearing dresses again felt...wrong to them.

But Allura looked so hopeful and Pidge didn’t want to let her down. Maybe she could just take them and wear them later if she was in the mood?

“Uh sure, I don’t see why not,” Pidge said after a moment.

Allura seemed to light up. “Great, then you can try some on real quick to see if they fit?” Fuck. Pidge couldn’t help but feel like she didn’t have a choice here. “...Right.”

Allura beamed and dragged Pidge along to grab the dresses. Pidge had a sinking feeling that there wasn’t going to be an easy way out of this.

Once they got to Allura’s room, Allura dug out some of the dresses that she had been talking about and handed them over to Pidge. “Hoefully these will work for you, you can try them on in the bathroom over there.”

“Right,” Pidge said, muttering under their breath slightly as they headed to the bathroom. Hopefully just one would appease Allura so Pidge wouldn’t be here all day.

Pidge sighed as they quickly got changed. Just one to appease Allura and then everything would be fine.

At least that’s what Pidge thought until she actually got the dress on and suddenly everything felt so wrong.

She glanced in the mirror after getting the dress on and could feel her skin crawling. All she wanted to do was get this damn dress off.

But why? She had been fine wearing dresses before? Why did she now just want to tear this dress off and never look at it again?

Pidge flinched upon hearing the knock on the door. “Pidge, is everything okay in there?”

“Sorry, I just got a bit distracted,” Pidge called. She hesitated for a second before adding something on. ‘I think this dress is a bit too small for me.”

Pidge hadn’t even realized that as they put it on, but it was clear now. Why else would it feel so tight? Plus it would explain why Pidge wanted to get it off as soon as possible.

“Well I’m sure I have some bigger dresses.”

“Thank you for the offer Allura,” Pidge said, quickly changing back into some more comfortable clothes, but I have work I need to be doing.” As she said this she handed the dresses back to Allura and got out of there as quickly as she could.

Alright enough was enough. Something was up with Pidge. She wasn’t sure what it was but enough stuff had happened in the past few days that she could tell something wasn’t right.

After some pacing, and trying to see if she could figure out what the fuck was going on on her own, she turned to Google.

Well it wasn’t technically Google, giving they were lightyears from Earth and most certainly not close enough for Google to work

It was more like a Space version of Google that Pidge had worked on to make sure it was a language she could understand.

She wasn’t sure exactly what to look up at first, so many different things had been going on recently that she wasn’t sure exactly she was looking for.

After a bit of debate, she decided to just look up everything she’d been feeling recently and hope that something clicked.

After a wild goose chase that Pidge had needed to take a break to eat in the middle of, she found something.

It was a single word but it kep popping up so Pidge figured she should look it up.

“Nonbinary,” she muttered to herself, reading the definition out loud. “an umbrella term for gender identities that are neither male nor female‍ or identities that are outside the gender binary.”

That had to be a coincidence. Pidge had been a girl for the longest time, she would have realized by now if she was nonbinary.

And besides she had been fine getting called a girl before this. She was just being weird now, nothing more than that.

Pidge closed her laptop and walked off, needing to get some fresh air. She really needed to figure out what was going on with her before it started interfering with stuff.

Pidge probably should have realized that people would start to worry about her when she disappeared all of a sudden. She had just needed some alone time to figure stuff out.

That was kind of ruined when Shiro entered. “There you are Pidge,” Shiro sighed in relief. “Everyone’s been looking for you.”

Had it really been that long since she had come out here? “Sorry Shiro, I didn’t mean to worry you guys.”

If it had been anyone else, they would have brushed it off and just let the others know where Pidge was.

Shiro wasn’t just anyone however, and he could tell when people weren't okay.

“Katie, is everything alright?”

The second Pidge heard her real name leave Shiro’s mouth, she flinched. She didn’t understand why but it was...instinctive.

Katie was still her name, even if she preferred to go by Pidge so why did she flinch?

“What’s wrong with me,” Pidge muttered to herself.

Shiro, if he hadn’t been worried before, was definitely worried now.

“K-,” Shiro stopped himself before calling Pidge Katie again. He probably had noticed her flinch when he called her that before. “Pidge, you know you can tell me anything.”

“If I knew what was going on with me, you’d be the first to know Shiro,” Pidge said, “But honestly, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.”

Pidge was half expecting Shiro to call her out on her cursing. But apparently Shiro knew she needed to get it out.

“Why don’t you explain to me everything that’s been going on recently and maybe I can help.”

Hearing Shiro’s words, Pidge spilled everything they’d been feeling recently. All of the weird feelings they’d been getting for seemingly no reason and how everything just felt so wrong.

Shiro paused before speaking. “Pidge, I know you dismissed it before, but what you’re describing sounds like you might be nonbinary.”

Pidge wanted to dismiss it but she (they?) hesitated. It was one thing for Pidge to think that but for Shiro to think so to. Could she….could they be nonbinary?

“..I’ll let the others know you’re okay Pidge, I know you’ll need some time to think this over.”

If Shiro’s talk with Pidge led to them coming out to the team a second time, well that was no one’s business but Pidge’s.

~Bonus~

Pidge was on their way back to the lab after finally getting that weight off their chest. The others all accepted them, though they had to explain to Allura and Coran exactly what nonbinary meant.

Before they got too far though, they heard someone calling out to them. “Pidge! Hold on a second.”

Pidge turned around to see Lance running to catch up to them. “Hey Lance, what’s up?”

Lance took a second to catch their breath before speaking. “I wanted to apologize for earlier, when you overheard me talking to Hunk.”

Pidge hadn’t even realized Lance had noticed them standing there. Then again, thinking back on it the two had gone quiet right before they ran off. “Lance it’s fine you didn’t k-”

“Pidge, it's not fine, it really hurt you. I know if I had been in your position, someone complaining about not realizing my gender, it would have really hurt me.”

Pidge blinked a bit at that, the way Lance had said that...it sounded like he was speaking from experience.

“Lance...are you?”

Lance hesitated slightly. “Kind of? I’m not cis if that’s what you’re asking. But uh...I’m trans ftm, not nonbinary. And I know how much it hurts to be misgendered.”

Pidge thought about how weird it had felt being called she and nodded. “I forgive you Lance. Besides I know you couldn’t have known so you didn’t have to apologize.”

Lance grinned. “What can I say, us non-cis folk have to stick together.”

Pidge snickered a bit at that. “I guess you’re right.”

#nonbinary pidge #pidge holt #lance mcclain #hunk garrett #shiro takashi #allura #voltron #trans lance #dsyphoria #misgendering #it's not intentional tho!#self-doubt

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mdawritings · 4 years ago

Text

Wanna Be Yours: Ch. 9

I.IX

Masterlist

Warnings: None

Song(s): "Fool's Gold" by One Direction

"Katie," Your heart is still racing from the kiss and the surprise of your friend coming up behind you. "I thought you said you were going to shower and go to bed." It’s a stupid comment. Obviously, she didn’t just go straight to bed.

"What is Professor Hotchner doing outside of our apartment?" Katie crosses her arms across her chest, "No actually, more importantly, what is Professor Hotchner doing kissing you?"

"What?" Just like that, your IQ falls about 80 points. Play dumb. That’s definitely the best choice in this situation.

"Y/N… please tell me you are not seeing our professor." Katie brings a hand up to hold her temples.

"Okay, I’m not seeing our professor," You attempt to push past her and she shoots a hand out to grab your wrist, pulling you back to stand in front of her. You hope your long drawn-out sigh is enough to warn her that you’re really not in the mood for a scolding or beratement or even to chat right now. It’s been a long week. "Please Katie just…"

"Just what? Let it go? Pretend I didn’t see it?" Katie’s eyes search your face but you roll your eyes, "No, we’re talking about this."

"I’m exhausted and I want to sleep," You groan, cursing the fact that your drunken buzz is quickly fading, "This doesn’t have to be a big thing."

"It’s already a big thing." She argues. You open your mouth to protest, to fight her off, but if you know anything about Katie, it’s that when she’s dead set on something, there’s no excuse, no possible escape. So you let out a sigh and move away from her to lean against the kitchen island, a small distance away from her. Where do you begin? How do you explain it all to her?

"How long has this been going on?" Katie’s body language loosens up and she pulls the towel from around her neck, drying her hair lightly as she looks over at you.

So you tell her. You tell her everything. Well, not every single detail of the sex, but you tell her how many times you’ve seen him, you tell her about the late night booty call, you tell her about the kiss with Charlie, you tell her about the weekend at his apartment. You tell her about blowing him off all week. You don’t tell her about him walking you home, you don’t tell her about the conversation the two of you just had outside your building. You leave out the fights with him. You leave out the way he kicked you on your ass this past weekend.

Katie shakes her head, and the words that you already know are coming fall from her lips, "Y/n, you can’t… you cannot keep seeing him."

Your eyes look away from her piercing, searching gaze. Deep down, you know she’s right. This isn’t a relationship and it’s not just a fling anymore. The way you felt all week being separated from him? It made you sick to your stomach. You couldn’t focus on anything, your mind always wandering back to him. Not just wandering back to the sex, but to his voice, his hands, his eyes, his laugh, his smile. The way his brows furrow deeply when he’s reading. That damned hand thing he does. The way he subtly bites at the corner of his lips when concentrating. "I really… I really like spending time with him. He understands me, you know?"

"I know it might feel that way but at the end of the day he’s using you." She argues, "It’s not right. He’s using the power he has over you as a professor to get you in bed."

You don’t come with anything to say back so Katie keeps going, "If you guys get caught… he could lose his job. Your reputation will be ruined. All that you’ve worked hard for, all this work to establish a name for yourself…"

"Don’t you think I fucking realize all that?" Your frustration and exhaustion bubble up into anger. You’re not a child, and right now Katie is lecturing you like one. "It’s not just sex anymore," You bite back, "It’s companionship. He listens to me. He indulges my mind. We enjoy each other's company. And he doesn’t treat me like a child, unlike you and all of our other friends." The last part isn’t really true. Katie, for the most part, treats you with just as much respect as anyone else her age. The rest of your friends baby you. It’s evident in their behavior, the way they tease you and laugh at you. The nicknames, ‘kid genius’ or just ‘kid.’

You’re tired of being treated like a child. You’re plenty capable of making your own decisions. This thing with Hotch, it feels like the first fully independent decision you’ve made. It’s not what your parents expect from you, it’s not what your friends want from you, it’s entirely what you want. And that complete freedom of choice? It feels fantastic.

"Oh my god." Katie’s voice has fallen to hush. Her hand comes to her mouth, covering it slightly.

You stutter out a quick apology, "I’m sorry, Katie that’s not what I meant…"

"Oh my god," She repeats, taking a few steps closer to you, "Oh my god. You’re… falling for him."

Your face flushes hot with embarrassment. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, suppressing the small smile threatening to ruin your angry, frustrated facade. "No," You look up into her kind eyes, "Maybe. I don’t know."

"Oh, Einstein," She chuckles sadly. You can sense she feels bad for you. She pities you, like you’re some sad lovesick child, chasing after some unattainable ideal love that will never be requited, but she didn’t hear what Hotch said outside. She didn’t see the way the two of you looked at each other at the front door. She didn’t hear how soft his voice got when he apologized. He wouldn’t act this way if he didn’t care for you. You’re all I need.

He wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it. He wouldn’t. That would be… cruel of him, to play with you like that. And as much as he’s mistreated you, you know he’s not capable of such disrespect and manipulation.

"You know I’m always in your corner." Katie leans against the counter next to you.

"Then why do you make me feel like a teenager who snuck out past curfew?" You try to crack a joke, lighten the mood, pull yourself out of your own thoughts.

"I’m not angry with you." She rubs your shoulder comfortingly.

"It sure feels that way," You scoff and look down, picking at your nail beds.

"If anything I’m angry with him," She almost laughs, reaching for your hand, preventing you from tearing at the skin any longer. She wraps her hand around yours supportively, "He’s your superior and it’s wrong to use you like this," You shoot her a glare and she sighs, "If he’s using you."

"I don’t know what to think, Katie," You feel that pit in your stomach that makes you queasy, "Whenever I’m with him I feel like the most important woman in the entire world. I make him laugh. How could anyone possibly fake all of that?"

"Maybe he’s not," She wraps her other arm around your shoulders and pulls you in close to rest your head on her shoulder, "You’re so beautiful, inside and out, Y/N… it’s practically impossible for him to avoid falling for you too."

Her words give a small boost of happiness. It’s amazing to know she’s always on your side, but the doubts you have about Hotch don’t seem to be disappearing. He’s never made any real commitment to you. He barely shows any sense of care for you besides when you blow him off. But again, you decide that it all feels too authentic to be manipulation. He’s too enchanted by you, and you, with him. What you feel for him is real. He must feel the same… he has to.

————

You knock lightly on Hotch’s office door, but receive no response. You glance around the hallways to make sure that no student or professor sees you entering his office. It would be quite hard to explain why Hotch would let you go into his office if he wasn’t there. You push open the door, surprised to see Hotch hunched over at his desk, writing furiously with one hand, the other hand holding his forehead.

Your entrance into the office doesn’t even seem to draw his attention. "Aaron?" You call. He looks up at you and you can see his eyebrows plastered into that signature frown of his. "Sorry I didn’t mean to barge in. I can go if you-"

"No come in," He waves you in and turns his attention back down to his work.

"Are you okay?" You ask tentatively. You sit in the chair directly across from his desk, placing your bag on the floor and cozying up a little. You feel comfortable in his office. It’s always warm and the room smells like him. You’ve run your eyes over the hundreds of books on the walls, reading the spines, memorizing every single title that he has in his collection, making mental notes of ones that are missing that you think would pad out his collection properly.

"I just… my third-year ethical issues students are all struggling quite a bit and it’s a difficult class I’ll admit but I can’t help but feel like…" He sighs and shakes his head. "Like it’s due to my failings as a professor and mentor."

You find yourself at a loss for words. You can tell he’s stressed. His hand is tangled in his hair and it’s all messed up and fluffy. His grip on the pen is tight, his knuckles practically going white as he writes notes rapidly. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable… so normal and human. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I’m just trying to restructure the lectures and the curriculum. I’ve lightened the workload because I know all of them are scrounging for internships and job opportunities or are already juggling an internship but they’re just not getting it." He drops his pen, which causes a little bit of ink to spray out from the fountain pen nib and onto his notes. He holds his head in his hands, covering his entire face with his palms before rubbing his eyes in an attempt to wake himself up.

You bite your lip and put your things down, standing up to walk around and sit against the edge of the desk to the right of him. "Can I take a look?" You hold out your hand.

"How could you help me with this?" He looks up from his hands at you.

"Well, seeing as I am a student, I can probably help figure out what is and isn’t working for them, which weeks you’re assigning too much work for them to actually get done." You smirk and he leans back in his chair. There’s a small moment before a smile starts to spread across his face.

He places a warm hand on your knee, rubbing it gently. It’s not an inherently sexual gesture, it’s comfortable. He leaves his hand there, thumb tracing circles on your thigh absentmindedly, "I don’t think you’re a good judge of the average student. There’s no such thing as too much work to get done for you."

You roll your eyes, "Aaron will you stop being so stubborn and just hand me the damn syllabus." You stick out your hand and he reluctantly sits up, handing over the sheet scribbled with his notes. "You’re lucky I’ve learned to decode your horrendous handwriting."

"It’s not that awful." He mutters under his breath and leans forward to look over the sheet while it’s in your hands.

"I don’t even know what that says," You point to an especially atrocious line, "Seriously, Aaron, are you trying to make it harder for your students on purpose?"

"You seem to do okay," He teases, giving your thigh a light squeeze.

You chuckle, reaching across him for a pen, making marks all over the pages."Yeah well I work about three times as much as anyone else here."

"What are you doing?"Hotch leans further forward to get a better look at what you’re writing but you lean away from him so you can work on it uninterrupted, "Wait, you can’t just cross that out they need to—" He reaches out a hand, ready to snatch the syllabus from your clutches. You hold your arm fully extended out away from him, like you’re keeping a toy from a little child before placing a soft quick kiss on his lips.

"Now stop arguing and let me work," You smirk and pull away. Despite cutting him off, a small grin remains on his face. You sit there for a few minutes longer, crossing off items on the syllabus, rearranging the schedule, and writing down suggestions. Hotch resigns himself to the fact that you will not be relinquishing your hold on the paper until you’ve made it exactly perfect. He knows you too well, you won’t stop until you think you’ve nailed it.

After a few minutes, you hand the paper back to him, thoroughly satisfied with all the changes you’ve made. He takes it from you, eyes scanning through the notes, flipping through the pages at a steady pace, "Hm," He lets out a small hum and you lean forward, attempting to spot which line he’s reading, "These are… really good changes." He nods and turns to look up at you, your face much closer now that you’ve leaned into him.

"Really?" Your heart flutters as his eyes flit down to your lips and back to your eyes, "I mean… of course they are," You tease, putting on a fake air of arrogance, but deep down you’re heart swells with pride that he’s impressed by your help.

He runs a hand along your jaw, hand wrapping around your throat, but it’s not tight or dominant like usual. His fingers are light on your skin and he just pulls you enough to bring your lips to his for a slow, sensual kiss. Your eyes flutter shut and you run your fingers up to knot in his hair, tugging on the roots. You’re the first to pull away from the kiss, "Now get back to work." You point down at the stack of essays on his desk.

"But it’s Wednesday," He's practically pouting up at you, "I set aside this time to be with you." His hand travels back a little, cupping your face, thumb rubbing your cheek, his fingers at the base of your neck.

"You obviously have a lot to get done. Don’t worry about it," You give a reassuring nod and get up, digging around in your bag to take out a book. You hold it up, "I have ways to entertain myself."

"You can come back later in the afternoon once I’m done all of this," He starts but you hold up your hand to stop him, settling back onto the edge of his desk.

"Get your work done. I don’t mind just sitting here with you," You give a warm smile before opening your novel and diving right in. He takes that as a sign that it’s okay to go ahead and continue working, and you both seem to fall into a rhythm, the only sound coming from the occasional creak and groan of the heater working overtime to combat the cold wintery weather outside.

He rests his right hand on your thigh again, every once in a while giving it a small squeeze, while his fingers trail over your skin. He uses his other hand to continue grading papers. It’s a comforting position. You sit there, fully focused on the book in your hand, but enjoy the comfort of his warm hands on your skin.

You both sit there in silence for nearly half an hour before you come to the end of your book closing it with a small sigh. You glance at the walls of titles and stand up from the desk, drawing Hotch’s attention away from his work. You hold your book close to your chest, slowly strolling past the shelves and shelves of books.

"Take any one you want." He gestures with his head in the direction of the shelves.

"Really?" You’re giddy with excitement, just itching to take the first 10 titles down and dive into reading them. You step closer, taking a moment to read every single spine and cover carefully.

"Mhm," Hotch mumbles under his breath, attempting to look at his work but his eyes are stuck on you as you slowly drift from shelf to shelf, eyes wide, trying to take in every single title.

"You know my birthday is next Friday," You hum softly and run your fingers over the spines of the books on the shelf. You turn and lean back against them, wagging your eyebrows playfully at him, "What are you going to get me?"

"I-" Hotch seems at a loss for words, his smile faltering slightly, "I’m not really great at giving gifts. I don’t ever feel like I know the person well enough to give them a meaningful gift."

"I’m teasing you," You laugh at his slight stuttering and discomfort, "I’m not the type to make a big fuss about my birthday."

"It’s your 21st. That’s a big deal," He nods, eliciting a small scoff and roll of your eyes.

You turn back around and pull a book from the shelf, turning through the pages quickly, "Is it? I mean I’ve always thought of age as something so irrelevant." You put the book up onto the shelf. Your eyes travel up to the higher shelves. The books higher up are probably some of the ones he doesn’t reach for as often, but you find yourself spotting some of your favorites up on the higher shelf. You stand up on your toes, reaching for his copy of Dracula.

"Why’s that?" He stands up from his chair and comes up behind you, reaching up over your shoulder to grab the book and hand it to you. You look over your shoulder at him with a small smile.

"I just don’t think age is necessarily a marker of any sense of intelligence, maturity, sophistication, experience," You walk around the office as you read through the pages, ignoring the written words, focusing all your energy on understanding his annotations. The pages are littered with highlights and notes on every free space on the page. The grin on your face grows more as you read it.

"Sorry, I forget you’re such a kid genius sometimes," Hotch teases you playfully.

You barely hear what he’s saying, taking a moment to absorb the thoughts present in the margins of the novel, "You really don’t like this book, huh?" You close it shut in one hand and look over at him. "You missed some of the most important parts."

"Oh did I?" He chuckles and leans against the shelves, crossing his arms.

"Yes! You missed the complexities of the point of view changes and the greater metaphors for sexuliaty and female sexual prowess." You protest angrily. Your love for literature is coming out at this moment and his smug, arrogant smirk, that you know so well, demonstrates he’s not going to be receptive to your opinion and will continue to believe his ideas are correct.

"I understand those arguments and see their evidence in the literature but it’s taking such a modern view of a Victorian novel. That’s not what the implications are to the Victorian reader o in the historical context of the book," He shrugs, "It’s such a reach."

"But isn’t that the only way to enjoy literature? That’s the only way a work can be timeless. Can you take into a modern context and still enjoy it while deriving some greater conclusions about the world around you?" You tut at him disapprovingly, "Yeah, I'm not taking literature advice from someone who doesn’t even own a copy of The Great Gatsby."

"Classics are overrated." His words are like a knife to your heart. Your jaw falls slack with shock and you can sense him resisting the urge to make a dirty joke.

You shake your head firmly,"First of all, some classics are overrated, but some are worthy of the title of classic. Second, The Great Gatsby is my favorite novel of all time so I will simply not tolerate any criticism. I cannot believe you don’t have it."

"I never understood the infatuation. The writing seems so… simplistic, the imagery is predictable and cliched."

You whirl around to look at him, placing a hand over your chest, feigning hurt feelings, "First of all, I am now taking this as a personal attack," He chuckles and shakes his head at your dramatics, "And the simplistic writing is what makes it so amazing. It seems so simple on the surface, and you can take the cliched, surface level metaphors and imagery and derive some bored, tired conclusions about Fitzgerald’s opinion of the American Dream. But there's so much more!" You shake your head, struggling to reach to put the book back up on the shelf.

"Okay, okay," He walks around to take the book from your hands placing it back in its rightful position, "I get it. My literature analyses are not good enough for you."

As he turns his attention back to you, you maintain his eye contact giving him a small shrug of your shoulders,"If you spend all your energy attempting to divide everything into strict categories or make stark divisions. You miss the important subtleties of the world around you." His brows furrow as he attempts to understand your point.

"I just think your law background has forced you into taking on a black and white mindset." You continue, "But the beauty in life is in the grays." He pauses for a second, letting the smile grow wider on his face. He leans forward, again connecting his lips with yours. His hands wrap around you, pulling you closer to him, pressing your soft warm body against his. You glance at the time, knowing that you’re going to be late for your next class, but you continue to kiss Hotch. You don’t want this moment to end.

Everything feels so perfect. You’re so happy, so content. But nothing this good can last forever.

Chapter 10: I.X →

#aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #wanna be yours fanfic #hotch #hotchner #hotch x reader

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years ago

Text

quick to judge

request from nonnie: Hi Erica! I love your writing sm, and was wondering if I could request a fic with either George or Fred (I’m partial to George but I love them both esp since they both live long happy lives 🙃) where reader is on a rival quidditch team (pref slytherin chaser but up to you!) and F/G have to get over their innate dislike of her because of the rivalry because she’s like the perfect girl for him? No worries if you don’t like the idea, I just wanted to ask, thank you❣️❣️

request from nonnie: if your requests are open can i request 11 & 23 from your writing prmopt list with george weasley? “knock it off, you tosspot! | “join us tonight?”

pairing: george x slytherin fem!chaser

prompt(s): “knock it off, you tosspot!” | “join us tonight?”

word count: 3.9k

A/N: i loved these requests—thank you darlings! i don’t write slytherin all that often so when i do, it’s a treat :) also just imagine sneaking around the castle with george weasley ugh i am weak for it.. hope you guys enjoy reading this story as much as i did writing it! x

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @feffffffy | message me if you’d like to be added, loves!

“Ugh—murder me, George.”

Fred is pulling at his hair whilst Angelina dishes new information to the entirety of the Gryffindor Quidditch team during the evening feast. George peers from his disheveled looking twin to the other end of the Great Hall, where he spots you in your green robes, blowing gently on a cup of tea before immersing yourself into conversation with another Slytherin Chaser next to you. Yep—much to the Gryffindor Quidditch team’s dismay—they’d found a new Chaser.

“C’mon now, give her a chance,” Angelina says in a hushed whisper, doing her very best to keep the team civilized. “Just because we.. strongly dislike most of the Slytherins doesn’t mean we need to feel that way about her, as well. I’ve actually heard very nice things.”

“Yeah?” Fred begins sarcastically, slumping in his seat. “Like what?”

“Like she’s a fair player,” Katie Bell answers.

“And a bloody good player, at that.”

“Ugh,” Fred says rather dramatically and rolls his eyes. He turns to Harry and George and nods in the direction of the girls, who are still speaking. In a lower voice, he asks them, “Can you believe this rubbish? ‘Give her a chance’. Merlin! When have Gryffindors and Slytherins ever gotten along? Look, I’ll be civilized,” Fred says in defense when Harry raises his eyebrows at him, “but there’s no bloody way in hell I’m taking it easy on her.”

“Definitely don’t need to take it easy,” Harry teases, “but we still need to play fair.”

George is hardly paying attention to the conversation in front of him; his hands are clutched tightly around his mug. He watches as a soft grin tugs at the edges of your lips, he notices the way your eyes glisten in the evening sunset light streaming in from the windows, the way you throw your head back and laugh—a laugh he cannot hear, but realizes, suddenly, that he’s dying too. Oh, no.

“Angelina’s right,” he says, trying to sound impartial before the boys notice his lingering stare. When Fred raises his eyebrows suspiciously at his twin, George carries on, “look, ‘m just saying—isn’t that what our entire team stands for? Sportsmanship, or whatever? I know we don’t have a good relationship with the Slytherins, but I reckon being nice with her may turn that around.”

Fred is taken aback at this and asks, “Being nice? Oi—what’s gotten into you? Feeling feverish?” He places a hand on top of George’s forehead and laughs as George slaps his hand away teasingly. A smirk spreads itself across his face and he turns to Harry and says, “Merlin—prepare yourself, Harry. He’s in love.”

George feels his stomach tighten and Harry stifles a bit of confused laughter. “What? How can you tell?”

George is rigid in his seat now. Love is such an overdramatic statement, but he can barely bring himself to roll his eyes at Fred; he’s still trying to remember how to breathe properly. Fred, as if placing George on display somehow, points at him— “Flushed face, dilated pupils, red ears—cold hands,” he grabs both of George’s hands to feel his skin is nearly ice cold, something that tends to happen each and every time George gets nervous. “There are four ways to tell our dear Georgie is smitten, Harry, and I’ve just named them for you.”

Coming to his senses, George slaps his brother. “You’re off your rocker, Fred.”

Fred laughs again and says to Harry, “Off my rocker, he says. But just look at her, would you? She’s just his type. Plus—she plays Quidditch. I promise you, Harry, he’s taken with her already.”

George tells his twin, “Lay off. Just trying to be impartial.”

“Right.” Fred says, smirking a bit while shooting glances toward Harry, who’s doing his best to not choke on his tea due to laughter. “Impartial. Try not to bat your long, beautiful eyelashes at her during our match then, okay, Georgie?” Raucous laughter bounces off of the walls in the Great Hall.

Then suddenly, Angelina scoffs and turns toward the group. George feels a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Ugh—I think I just saw her laugh at something Draco Malfoy said. Maybe we don’t need to be so civilized after all.”

— -

George emerges with Fred and Harry from the changing rooms and they make their way onto the pitch for the match. He’s feeling much more nervous than ever before; he glances up into the stands and notices Ron, Hermione and Ginny, sitting and waiting patiently for the match to begin.

He suddenly feels his knees weaken when he notices you in your green robes just a few feet away.

You all mount your brooms and hover in the air; George was kind of hoping that the Slytherin team would introduce their newest Chaser to the Gryffindor team, but isn’t surprised when they don’t. He finds himself to be slightly sad at the thought, and then shakes his head to push away any feelings that will interfere with his playing. They just need to win and get this over with. Here’s hoping Harry catches the snitch before Malfoy, who’s hovering near Flint and laughing at each and every one of the Gryffindors.

Fred’s looking more on edge—like he wants nothing more than to send every single bludger right into Malfoy’s head during the entirety of the match.

“Reckon I could?” Fred asks George suddenly, hovering in the air, waiting for Madam Hooch’s whistle. “Send them Draco’s way, I mean.”

George laughs and replies, “Sorry, mate—unless you want Gryffindor to forfeit, I reckon you’d better resist the urge.”

It’s a short match, to say the least. Harry’s looking positively dreadful at the sight of Malfoy snickering on the other end of the pitch as he twirls the glistening Snitch in his hands. To Harry, Fred says, “Don’t worry about it, mate—they’ve got a good lineup this year. Better than, even. Bloody hell, I reckon we maybe should’ve taken that new Chaser a bit more seriously—”

“Don’t.” George cuts him off angrily, digging his shoes into the muddy field up to the castle. He’s feeling rather poorly after Gryffindor’s loss. Fred and Harry exchange confused looks.

Fred, wanting nothing more than to lighten the mood of the loss, asks his brother, “You alright there, Georgie? No longer in love?”

Harry laughs nervously, but it’s George’s annoyed-sounding scoff that takes Fred by surprise. George glances toward the Slytherin team, each member high-fiving one another due to their win. He feels anger bubbling up inside him and turns back toward the castle, his brows furrowed and face flushed red. He just wants to get back to the dormitory as quickly as he can. “Oh knock it off you tosspot. I was never in love—I can’t believe those slimy Slytherins won the match—erm, no worry, Harry, we’ll get them next time—” he says a bit softer when he notices Harry’s woebegone look. To Fred, he continues, “—can’t believe I ever thought that Gryffindors and Slytherins could get along.. Merlin. Next time I have such a wicked thought, Fred, do me a favor and knock me over the head with a spellbook of mine, would you?”

Fred laughs and slings an arm around his twin. “Don’t need to ask me twice.”

— -

Fred and George find themselves the last place they ever want to be—in the library, grudgingly working on an extra long Potions essay assigned to their class by Professor Snape in a moment of pure rage. Fred’s arms are sprawled out across the table and he’s laying across his blank parchment rather dramatically, groaning against the desk. George, on the other hand, is scribbling quite animatedly, wanting to get out of the library as quickly as possible. Then he spots you a few rows over, rolls his eyes, and writes even faster.

“It’s no use, mate,” Fred’s voice is tired, “I can’t do this. This schoolwork is nearly killing me. I’m going back to the Common Room; Ron said something about a game of exploding snap—you coming?”

“You go on,” George replies, not looking up from his parchment, “I want to finish this before the feast.”

Fred puts up his hands in surrender and exits the library as quickly and as swiftly as possible.

George is hoping he can finish this Potions essay within the next half an hour, or so—that way, he’ll have time to change and possibly get in on that exploding snap game before the feast in a bit. But he finds himself distracted. Not in a good way, though. He finds himself distracted by you.

Is it his imagination, or have you moved over a few seats? He shakes his head and looks back down at his parchment. No, it’s not his imagination at all—he looks up again and you’re directly across from him now, your hands spread out over your own piece of parchment and spellbooks, and you smile at him.

“Just wanted to tell you how great you were last week,” you tell him in a low voice so as not to grab Madam Pince’s attention, “really great. Probably two of the best beaters I’ve ever seen, you and your brother.”

Is this some kind of a joke? George furrows his brows and asks, a bit incredulously, “W-what?”

You laugh softly, closing your own spellbook. “Look, I know that the whole Slytherin versus Gryffindor rivalry thing has been going on since Hogwarts opened, basically,” your voice is light and airy, and George is now having conflicting feelings. Was he too quick to judge? “but I figure, that’s not how all Slytherin and Gryffindor relationships need to be. So, just wanted to say—really wicked playing; but don’t expect me to take it easy on you moving forward.” You beam at him, pack your things away and stand up to leave.

“What’re you on about?” George asks, now feeling incredibly defensive. “Is this some kind of ploy? Flatter us and make us all flustered so you can go ahead and absolutely demolish us in the next match like you have this last time? Well, it’s not going to work,” he tells you, closing his own spellbooks and placing them into his bag on the chair next to him. “I appreciate the compliment—you’re a wicked player too, but—anyone who’s friends with Malfoy isn’t someone I reckon I’ll be able to get on with.”

You’re a bit taken aback, George notices, when your face flushes red. You sit back down as he continues to pack up his things. “I’m not friends with Malfoy.”

George just scoffs.

You cross your arms defensively now and stand up with a jolt. “He might be my teammate, but I actually find him to be a right foul git.”

You push your chair in a little too loudly, and now George is feeling incredibly guilty. Maybe you were genuinely trying to be friendly. He gets up and grabs your arm before you exit the library fully. Taking a deep breath, he says, “Wait, wait—‘m sorry. Look, that was really bloody rude of me. It’s just that—”

You soften at his words; you uncross your arms, and grin softly. “I understand that friendships between our two houses can be a bit.. complicated.”

“Throw in Quidditch and we’re nearly done for.”

“Look, I was just being friendly.”

“I know. I appreciate that.”

Just then, a flustered yelp comes from right outside the library. Both you and George turn to look, only to see Crabbe and Goyle tugging on Malfoy’s robes, whose face is seemingly broken out in some type of hive. He’s yelling at the two of them to try any spell, rid me of this! But alas, whatever they do only tends to make the irritation worse. George erupts into laughter.

“What a git,” you say to George.

“Merlin—deserves that, he does. I reckon whoever can pull off that deserves a medal, or something.”

Again you cross your arms—but not indignantly this time. A smirk grows on your face and realization floods over George. He looks back and forth between a very upset Malfoy, and you.

“You?”

“Just jinxed some candies he was eyeing in the common room this afternoon,” you tell him, smirking even more, “I was just so sick and tired of him today. If I had to overhear how bloody wonderful his pureblood family is one more time, I was bound to punch him eventually—reckoned this wouldn’t be as bad for his rep.”

George is still stuck in his spot—his feet cemented into the ground, his entire body is rigid. He’s finding it hard to not peer at you with admiration. Malfoy’s long gone by now—his yelps are growing quieter and quieter as he, Crabbe and Goyle make their way down the corridors toward the Great Hall. You’re still standing in front of George, a smirk on your face and your hands now on your hips, basking in all your glory. Again, as if he hadn’t heard you correctly the first time, George asks, “Y-you? You pranked Malfoy?”

You wiggle your eyebrows at him and he feels his insides twist. Uh-oh. “Color you impressed, Weasley?”

— -

When George was taken aback by your friendly banter in the library those few weeks ago, he never expected to end up back here. In the library. With you. In the row all the way near the back, the row nobody ever visits, after hours in the dark; his hands tight around your abdomen, yours tangled in his hair, his lips on yours for what seems like hours.

The watch on your wrist begins to beep; as if gravity is pulling you both apart, you separate. George groans and tightens his grip on you. “Sorry, Georgie,” you say sweetly, pressing your lips gently to his once more, “got to run—can’t be late for Quidditch practice.”

“Ignore it, ignore it,” George says, eager to kiss you again, “I reckon you can be late just once. Right?”

Somehow still speaking coherently, you say heavily, “Yeah—that won’t look suspicious, or anything. H-how long d’you think we can keep this up?”

He nearly melts when he feels your smile against his lips. “Dunno, but, we’ve made it this far, haven’t we? Want to go public?”

“I don’t think our teams will like that very much,” you reply sadly, running your hands again through his soft hair. You jump up from the table and fix the open buttons on your shirt. “You’ll just have to find a way to sneak into the Slytherin Common Room, then.”

George, now feeling incredibly elated at your interest in mischief, wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Got a lot of faith in me, do you?”

You stand on your tiptoes for a quick peck and adjust his very askew tie. “More than you know. Now c’mon—have got to run, haven’t I? Promise to make it up to you later.”

Once successfully making it out of the closed library without being caught, and bidding you farewell (albeit a bit begrudgingly) in the middle of the corridors before you head to practice, George finds himself nearly skipping through the castle back to the common room. He pops through the portrait hole and immediately jumps onto one of the couches, sprawling himself out across the entire thing and seemingly pushing Ginny off the edge and into an armchair.

“No problem, Georgie, I wasn’t sitting here, or anything..” Ginny growls, taking a spot next to Ron.

“Where’ve you been?” Fred asks a bit angrily, placing his feet up on the table in front of them. “You completely disappeared after class and we haven’t seen you since!”

“Just taking a walk,” George replies, feeling his throat tighten up and knowing that this, full well, is lying straight through his teeth to his own flesh and blood. “Was finishing up an essay first, though.”

Fred, Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione all peer at him quizzically with furrowed brows. George can already tell there are questions bubbling up inside them, but the one that comes first isn’t exactly what he expects.

“Why—why’s your hair all messy?” Ginny asks, and George finds himself hurriedly running his hands through it, trying to smooth it down as much as possible, “and your lips, they’re all rosy! Who’ve you been snogging, George?” she giggles.

The confusion Fred was feeling toward his twin seems to subside as he smirks and places his hands behind his head, relaxing into the couch. “Oh—so there’s a girl? At least there’s a bloody good reason behind your disappearances. Who is it, mate?”

Quick on his feet (or so he thinks), George replies, “I’m not snogging anyone. You’re all out of your minds.”

“Give it up, mate.” Ron says cheekily. “We know.”

George swallows thickly. “You don’t know what you’re on about.”

As the rest of the group laughs, Fred pops a chocolate frog into his mouth and tells his twin, “Sure, George. Next time you sneak out for a midnight rendezvous with your girlfriend, be sure to tell her we’d all like to be introduced, eh?”

— -

“They know.”

It’s nearly ten p.m. and you’re sitting in George’s lap speaking in hushed whispers, running a hand gently through his hair at the nape of his neck as he finally is able to tell you about the encounter with his friends after your last meetup. The library is so much darker than the other night.

“They do?”

“Well, sort of,” he says, stroking your knee, “they at least have this theory that I’m sneaking around with someone. Which, they’re not wrong,” he grins cheekily, leaning up to kiss you softly, “but they don’t know who it is, and I’ve never actually told them that their theory is true.”

“D’you want too?”

“Do you?”

You run your fingers gently across his tie; the glistening of George’s eyes are evident in the moonlight streaming in through the windows. You sigh. “I’ll do whatever you’d like. I’m not saying that the sneaking around isn’t fun, because it definitely is,” George shoots you a cheeky smirk, “and I know that—that Gryffindors kind of have this rep to uphold, as do Slytherins—”

“I care more about you than a reputation, to be honest.”

He knows he’s said the right thing; a large grin spreads out across your face. “Me, too.”

George runs a hand through your hair and grins softly.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“Of course I am,” George replies, tightening his grip on you, “it’ll be so bloody nice not to ignore one another in the corridors now.”

You throw your head back and laugh; he’s nearly putty in your hands.

He says, making it final, “So we’ll tell them, then.”

“Together?”

“Yeah, together,” he agrees before lifting you up and placing you on the table, leaning you back against some bookshelves and pressing his lips to yours. He slings his arms around your waist and can feel the goosebumps rise on the back of his neck when you run a hand down his chest. Through a geeky grin, he says, “But not tonight, okay? I’m not quite finished with you yet, love.”

— -

George and Fred exit the Transfiguration classroom, nothing but a very long lunch on their planned activities list for the afternoon. The bump into Ginny, Ron, Harry, and Hermione in the corridors and immerse themselves in conversation.

“Fair warning, everyone,” Harry begins, looking ghastly, “Snape’s in a right awful mood today—can’t help but wonder if someone slipped something into his pumpkin juice.”

“Great,” Ginny groans, “just what I needed to hear as I make my way to the Dungeons.”

“Who’s up for a game of exploding snap later on?” Ron asks the group, loosening his tie a bit, “Just have to get through Divination first.”

Without answering, George then spots you rounding the bend. He knows you’re coming from Ancient Runes and heading toward the Great Hall for lunch, too. You both hadn’t told them yet. Hadn’t found the right time. It’s not as if houses can eat and chat with one another during the feasts, can they?

Without fully registering what he’s doing, George seizes his opportunity and bounces over to you, pulling you into a very tight and very noticeable embrace.

He watches as your eyes widen and begins to laugh. “Erm—what’re you doing?” you ask, pulling back. Then you whisper, “I thought we were telling them together, you know.. after we’ve had time to prepare?”

“I thought now would be a good time.”

You cock your head to the side. “Always keeping me on my toes, aren’t you, Weasley?”

He leans in and kisses you lightly. “Sounds about right, yeah.”

But before the two of you can head over to the group of Gryffindors you thought were distracted by conversation, you suddenly hear, “Well it’s about bloody time.”

You both turn your heads to see a very satisfied looking Fred, cheeky Ron and Harry, and happy Ginny and Hermione looking at you both as George’s hand tightens around your waist as the corridors become even busier.

“You knew?” you and George ask together.

“Well, Fred did,” Ron tells you both. “I swear, it’s like he’s got eyes on the back of his head, or something.”

Fred snickers and smirks at his twin. “Really think you could hide this from me? C’mon, Georgie, you know better. The two of you aren’t exactly subtle when you share stolen glances across the Great Hall every bloody evening,”

Everyone falls into a bit of laughter. As the younger ones introduce themselves quite excitedly and then reluctantly head off to class, you, George, and Fred are left in the emptying corridors with the rest of the seventh years also looking forward to a free period.

“Well, Freddie,” George begins, “she’s—”

Fred holds up a hand to his twin. “I know who she is, Georgie—” then, to you with a smile, he continues, “—but I know you as the Slytherin Chaser.. our opponent, if you will. I don’t know you as my twin’s—”

“Girlfriend,” you and George say together, making Fred begin to laugh. You continue, “Hope the fact that I’m a Slytherin won’t make it complicated.”

Fred can’t help but grin broadly. “Not with me, it won’t—especially if you make my brother happy.” George is relieved to hear this and can finally feel the knot in his stomach unwind. Fred keeps on, “Now—whatever effect you have on him is simply wonderful, Y/N. He’s coming back late at night with all of these incredible pranks up his sleeve, I dunno where he gets it—all I know is that it started happening right around the time the two of you began sneaking around.”

“Confession,” George begins, squeezing your hand now, “not all of those ideas were mine.”

And just as George had looked stunned in the library when he figured out that you’d been the one to prank Draco, Fred looks exactly the same. His expression is an exact carbon copy of his twin’s from that day. “Really?”

“Pranks Malfoy a lot these days,” George begins, looking down at you with admiration, “reckon he has it coming, too.”

You turn to Fred and ask with a smile, “Ruddy pumpkin head, isn’t he?”

Fred is certainly taken aback and wildly impressed. “I might just have to pick your brain, then,” he tells you and slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you along with him as he heads to the Great Hall. He leans in closer to you to speak, leaving George where he’s standing, “Join us tonight, would you? Would love to compare some ideas, if you’re willing.”

You stop in the middle of the corridor and sling your arm around Fred’s back. You peer at George and grin, as if to say, See? We had nothing to worry about. George can’t help but laugh at Fred’s very elated grin when you ask him, “What’d you have in mind, Freddie?”

reblogs & feedback are always appreciated, thank you for reading and requesting, loves x

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wistfulcynic · 4 years ago

Text

The Meet-Cute (2 of 2)

In which Ruby decides that what Emma’s love life needs is a good old-fashioned meet-cute, and sets about arranging one for her. Or two, or three, or six... whatever, she’ll set up however many it takes for her friend to meet The One. But it may turn out that Emma doesn’t need any help finding The One after all...

First part on Tumblr and AO3

a/n: this chapter contains sweetness, quite a lot of silliness, and a big ol’ hot kiss.

Thanks to @optomisticgirl for the idea and @thisonesatellite, @ohmightydevviepuu, and @katie-dub for support and general delightfulness.

PART TWO:

The next day was Wednesday and Emma spent the morning on patrol, driving around Storybrooke and trying not to think about how far away Friday was. She was just about to take a break and go to Granny’s for some coffee when her phone rang. The name on the screen was just about the last one she would ever have expected, and she frowned hard at it for the space of a good four rings before answering.

“Graham?”

“Hey, Emma.” His voice was just as she remembered it, gruff and accented. And faintly apologetic, which was new. “Um. Long time.”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. How’s life in the woods?”

“Ah, yeah, it’s good. And, um, about that. It’s actually why I’m calling. Because I can’t come in to town, I mean.”

“Well I didn’t think it was because you wanted to catch up on old times,” said Emma drily. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s my truck.” Graham paused and the silence stretched.

“Your truck?” Emma prompted, her patience wearing thin. She was not in the mood for Graham’s strong-and-silent schtick today.

“My truck.” He sighed. “It—well, it seems to be out of gas.”

Emma rubbed her temples. “And how is your lack of forward planning the responsibility of the Storybrooke Sheriff’s Department?” she asked, in a voice just shy of a snap.

“Well that’s the thing, I did forward plan,” said Graham. “I had a full tank last night because I knew that today I needed to drive to Portland. There’s a forestry convention I’m going to—well, it’s not important, but I wanted to get an early start so I made sure everything was ready before I went to bed last night. Then this morning I wake up to find my tank empty and the spare can missing.”

A creeping suspicion was beginning to crawl up Emma’s spine. “So you think, what, someone stole your gas?”

“I know it sounds crazy, but honestly I can’t come up with any other explanation.”

“Graham, do you happen to know Ruby Lucas?”

He paused, and when he spoke again his voice was confused. “Ah, the woman at the diner?”

“That’s her.”

“I chat with her whenever I go there, maybe once or twice a month. She seems nice. Why?”

“No reason.” Emma glowered through her windshield at Granny’s sign as she drove past it. “Listen, I can bring you a can of gas but it’ll take me at least half an hour to get it and get out to you. Does that leave you enough time to get to Portland?”

“Yeah, it should. I’ll have to change my plans a bit, but it’ll be okay. Only, Emma, what about the person who emptied my tank—”

Emma set her jaw as she pulled into the gas station. “I’ll take care of it.”

—

Thursday morning found her in Granny’s early, marching up to the counter with her fists planted on her hips.

“I could arrest you, you know. I probably should.”

“What?” Ruby blinked innocent eyes as she prepared Emma’s coffee, with plenty of milk and extra cinnamon and hazelnut syrups. “What did I do?”

“Emptying a gas tank is stealing, Rubes. You’ve got to stop doing this stuff!”

Ruby handed her the coffee, and a bag containing a fresh bear claw. Emma scowled at it as Ruby asked “Did it get you a date, at least?”

“It did not. At least, not in this decade.”

“Um.” Ruby frowned. “What?”

“I already dated Graham.” Emma decided that while the bear claw was unmistakably a bribe she could always just eat the evidence, and took a big bite.

“You did?” Ruby demanded. “When?”

“I’m surprised you don’t remember,” muttered Emma around her mouthful of pastry and nuts. “It wasn’t long after I moved to Storybrooke. Just before he decided to ‘escape the cage of civilisation’ and moved out to the middle of nowhere.”

“Wait, wait. It’s coming back to me now. Are you saying that Graham is Mountain Lodge Guy?”

“Yep.”

“Fuuuuck Ems, I’m sorry.” To her credit, Ruby did look genuinely apologetic.

“Well you should be,” retorted Emma, hardening her heart. “And you should stop doing this, Ruby! It’s getting ridiculous. I mean, it was always ridiculous but now it’s branching into minor-felony-level ridiculous. Please, I am begging you, stop.”

“Ah,” said Ruby, biting her lip. “Um, can I stop tomorrow?”

Emma’ blood ran cold. “Why?”

“I—may have already put the next plan into motion.”

“What? What plan?” Emma demanded, just as her phone started ringing.

Ruby grimaced. “Let’s just say you’d probably better answer that.”

—

Emma took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before knocking firmly on the door of a large, sprawling house on the edge of town. It swung open immediately to reveal a man wearing a frantic expression, his dark hair standing up on end.

“Oh, thank God!” he cried, falling to his knees. “Thank God.” The dog at the end of the leash Emma had looped around her hand wriggled in delight as he licked the man’s face. The man hugged the dog tightly, laughing as his cheeks was thoroughly washed. “How’d you find him?” he asked.

Emma watched the reunion with a reluctant smile. “I had a tip,” she replied wryly. “Someone spotted him in the street and managed to grab him. They let the sheriff’s department know, and we cross-checked his description with reports of missing dogs.” Or at least that’s what she would have done had the dog actually been missing, and not lured into the backseat of a car by Ruby armed with a juicy steak. The dog had spent the morning in the storage room of the diner, gnawing happily at the bone for an hour before taking a long nap on a cosy blanket. And now he was home again, unharmed and with a belly full of steak. All in all not a bad morning for him, Emma reflected, though she felt sorry for his owner.

The owner who was now rising to his feet and eyeing Emma with the eye of a man who, reassured of his beloved pet’s safety, could turn his attention to other matters.

“I’m August,” he said, offering his hand. “August Booth.”

Emma knew this of course, because Ruby had told her, but she took his hand anyway. “Emma Swan.”

“Emma,” August repeated. “I’ve seen you around, obviously, but—well it’s nice to finally meet you. Can I offer you a drink or anything?”

She shook her head. “Thanks, but no. I’m on duty and I really should get back to it.”

“Of course.” He gave her a hopeful smile, as the dog bounced cheerfully at his side. “Another time, maybe?”

“Ah, maybe.” Emma’s own smile was noncommittal. “Have a nice day.”

“You too. Emma.”

Emma got home that evening to find Henry with a huge grin on his face and an A on his solar system project.

“Look, Mom!” he cried, waving the paper at her. “Mr Johnson said it was one of the best projects he’s ever seen!”

“Wow, that’s great, Henry!” Emma took the paper and examined it with a beam of pride. “Well done!”

“I can’t wait to tell Killian.’ Henry was bouncing on his heels. “Can we call him? Maybe he can come over again!”

“Um, it’s a bit late to invite him over now,” Emma hedged. The truth was that she’d been looking for an excuse to text Killian since he’d left her place on Tuesday night, but was also not sure he’d want her bothering him. “But you can tell him tomorrow.”

“Is he coming over tomorrow?”

“Um, yeah. We’re going out.”

“Out?” Henry’s eyes went wide. “Like on a date?”

“Yeah. Is that okay?”

“Mom, you don’t need to ask me if you want to date someone. It’s your life.”

Emma shook her head, lips pressing together in a bittersweet smile. Sometimes her little baby boy seemed so grown up. It had been happening more and more often lately and though she loved to see it, it also gave her an aching twinge in her heart.

“But you’re the most important thing in my life,” she said firmly, “and I’m not going to date someone you don’t like.”

“Well, I like Killian. So as far as I’m concerned, date away.”

She laughed, and pulled him into a hug. “So you can wait until tomorrow to tell him about your project?”

Henry heaved a great sigh, though his eyes were laughing. “I suppose.”

—

Henry may have been able to wait, but Emma found she couldn’t. Barely two hours later, after they’d eaten dinner and Henry had settled down to do his homework, Emma found her fingers typing out a text to Killian without her permission, and sending it before her brain had a chance to object.

Emma: Henry got an A on his solar system project.

She held her breath after she clicked send, nerves fluttering in her belly. But it was barely a minute before three dots appeared below her message and then Killian’s reply.

Killian: That’s brilliant! Tell him I said well done.

Emma heaved a breath and felt her lips curve in a silly grin. I think he’d rather tell you himself, she texted back. I was just too excited to wait.

The reply came almost immediately. Your secret is safe with me, love, it said. I’ll pretend it’s the first I’m hearing of the news.

The silly smile was still on Emma’s face as she tried to think of a way to extend the conversation. Before she could come up with anything the three dots appeared again followed shortly by a message.

Killian: How was your day, Swan? Any exciting crime on the mean streets of Storybrooke?

Emma’s cheeks began to hurt as her grin widened further, and she settled in to regale Killian with the story of the dog, minus a few key details of course. When she finished he told her about a frustrating patron he’d had, who was looking for a very particular book but could not remember its title or author, or in fact any details about its plot or characters. All he could recall was that it had red on its cover.

Which, as I’m sure you can imagine, did not much narrow things down, Killian remarked.

The conversation drifted then onto other topics, flowing so easily that before Emma knew it they had been texting for three hours. When she finally got to bed that night—an hour later than usual—she drifted off with a smile still on her face, thinking of him and of their date the next day.

—

Wear something warm, Killian had said, and so late on Friday afternoon Emma changed out of the thin blouse she’d worn all day and into a sweater. A new sweater, one she’d bought on an impromptu trip to the boutique that morning. It would be winter soon, she’d reasoned, and she could always use another warm layer. It was definitely not because the sweater was a pretty shade of rose pink that complimented her complexion and made her feel soft and feminine, or because its slim fit hugged her breasts in a very flattering way.

Not at all.

She finished the look with dark jeans and a brown leather jacket with a sheepskin trim and headed out into the living room, ten minutes early.

Henry was watching TV but when she came into the room he looked up and his eyes widened. “You look awesome, Mom!” he said.

“Thanks, kid.” Emma rubbed her damp palms on her jeans. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so nervous. “Are you sure you’re okay with staying here by yourself?” she asked Henry, who rolled his eyes.

“Yes, I’m sure,” he said. “I have your number and Killian’s number and the hospital’s number and Mary Margaret’s number. Mary Margaret is just upstairs if I need her and she’ll come in to check on me at bedtime and make sure I’m not throwing any wild parties.” He gave Emma a sardonic look and she couldn’t suppress a chuckle. “Dinner’s in the fridge,” Henry continued, “I’m supposed to do my homework so it’s done for the weekend then I can play video games, and you’ll be home by midnight. Did I forget anything?”

She put her hands on her hips and shook her head at him. “No, I think that covers it.”

He got up from the couch and gave her a hug. “I’ll be okay, Mom,” he said reassuringly. “It’s just for a few hours.”

Emma nodded, squeezing him tightly. “I know.” He was still her baby, though, and it was a mother’s prerogative to worry.

Henry seemed to sense her mood because he gave her a cheeky grin. “Be sure you’re home on time, though, or else I might turn into a pumpkin,” he teased.

She laughed. “I promise.”

Just then the doorbell rang, sending Emma’s heartbeat into overdrive. She took a deep breath and then another as she smoothed her hair and adjusted her clothes. Henry smirked at her and went to open the door. “Hey, Killian!” he greeted.

“Hello, Henry,” Killian replied, and God, Emma thought, his voice was even sexier than she remembered. “How are you?”

“Good,” said Henry brightly. “I got an A on my solar system project!”

“That’s brilliant, lad!” said Killian, catching Emma’s eye and giving her a wink. Probably the least stealthy wink she’d ever seen, more of a full-face twitch.

Fortunately, Henry was too busy grinning with delight to notice. “Thanks for helping me,” he said.

“It was my pleasure.” Killian smiled at Henry but his eyes kept flitting to where Emma was standing behind him, hands clasped and trying not to twist them nervously. “Swan,” he said, transferring his smile to her. “You look lovely.”

“Thanks.” Emma flushed at the compliment and searched for the right words to return it. Killian was dressed in a sweater as well, a thick fisherman’s one in a deep blue shade that brought out his eyes. “You look...” Hot. Gorgeous. Highly fuckab—gah. No. She shook that thought from her head. “…um…”

He shot her a small smirk, one that said he knew what she was thinking, even as his cheeks went pink. “I know,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. Of course he did.

They stood grinning foolishly at each other until Henry gave a loud cough.

“Ah.” Killian scratched behind his ear, the flush in his cheeks deepening. “Are you ready then, love?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Henry, are you—”

“Mom.” Henry gave her a stern look. “I’m fine. Go.”

“All right, all right,” she sighed. “I’m going.”

She allowed Killian to guide her out the door and down the stairs with a hand hovering just over the small of her back. From another man such a gesture would have felt controlling but from him it just seemed sweet—old-fashioned, like the way he spoke and the general air of courteousness he carried.

“Where are we going?” she asked, when they exited her building and turned down the sidewalk.

He smiled, soft and a bit nervous. “You’ll see.”

They chatted lightly as they walked, conversation made easier by all they had shared in the texting marathon of the previous evening, and when they arrived at the docks a good twenty minutes later Emma felt as though no time had passed at all.

“What are we doing here?” she asked, looking around in confusion.

“Come with me.” He held out his hand and she took it without hesitation. Briefly she wondered at how easily she trusted this man she hardly knew, she who almost never trusted anyone, and then he led her up a gangplank and onto a long wooden sailing boat and she forgot everything else in her astonishment.

“This is yours?” she exclaimed.

“Aye,” said Killian with a small shrug. “You can take the lad off the sea but you can’t take the sea out of the lad. Or something.”

Emma laughed. “You bought this after you left the navy?”

“I did,” he replied. “Lived on board for a few months. I was going to stay on her while I was in Storybrooke but Belle said that was ridiculous when there was an empty apartment above the library, so…”

“Yeah. And doesn’t it get cold at night? On the boat I mean.”

“I have blankets. And rum.” He waggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed. “But yes, the apartment is much more congenial as a place to sleep, so I’m grateful for it.”

On the boat’s deck a blanket was spread out, with a pile of cushions on one side and a small camp stove on the other. “I thought we could make grilled cheese,” Killian explained. “Henry, ah, told me it was your favourite. And everything tastes better under the stars.”

Emma felt a lump rising in her throat. “There—there aren’t any stars,” she said.

Killian smiled at her. “Not yet.”

She made herself comfortable on the blanket while Killian produced a leather satchel, from which he removed plates and napkins, bread and butter, and a dizzying array of cheeses.

Emma gaped as he lined them up in front of the stove. “I usually just use the kind that comes in pre-wrapped slices,” she said.

“Aye, I have some of that.” he replied, holding up a small, square parcel. “Though I thought, maybe, if you were in the mood for it, that you, ah—might be up for trying something new?”

His expression was so hopeful, so open, and she knew that he wasn’t just talking about the cheese. He meant the way she’d been living, closed-off and untrusting. Alone. He was asking her to let him in, and God, Emma thought, she wanted to.

“I—yeah.” She swallowed hard, but the smile she gave him was genuine. “I’d like that. But, I’m gonna be honest here, I have no idea which one.”

Killian laughed, a deep, rich sound that warmed her inside and out. “Try the gouda,” he advised.

“I don’t even know what that is,” she said, laughing with him.

The warm smile remained on his lips but there was something deeply solemn in his eyes. “Do you trust me?” he asked.

Emma swallowed again. “Yeah,” she replied, and it was true. She really did.

Killian nodded. “Gouda,” he said firmly.

She nodded back. “Okay.”

—

The gouda turned out to be delicious, melting into the kind of stringy, gloopy mess that had Emma’s eyes rolling back in her head with delight. Its flavour was mild, almost nutty, and absolutely delicious—way better, she was sure, than the soft, smelly stuff Killian put on his bread.

“This is amazing,” she said around a mouthful of melted cheese. “That, on the other hand…”

He chuckled. “It’s an acquired taste.”

“I’m sure. So... why exactly did you acquire it?”

An odd look crossed Killian’s face. “Sometimes you eat what’s put in front of you, love, and learn to like it later,” he said, in a voice grim with not entirely pleasant memories. “I’ve been in places where to refuse the food would be a grave insult, and a grave insult could result in... well, let’s just call them unpleasant consequences.”

“Wow.”

He gave shrug and an offhand smile. “I mean, not to be dramatic or anything.”

“Oh no, obviously not.” She munched her cheese, trying to think of a lighter topic. “So, um, what made you become a librarian? No offence but you don’t really seem the type.”

“No, probably not.” His smile warmed and softened and Emma felt herself relax. “I wanted a quiet life after the navy and I’ve always loved books, so it seemed like a natural choice.”

“Yeah, I guess I can see that.”

“It’s been healing,” he said softly. “In more ways than one.” He was silent for a moment, then turned to her with a quirked eyebrow. “And what about you, Emma, what brought you into law enforcement?” he asked.

“What don’t I seem like the type?”

“On the contrary, it seems a perfect fit for you. I’d just—like to know you better.”

Emma felt a flush rise in her cheeks as her heartbeat quickened. “I was in bail bonds before I came to Storybrooke, but there’s not much need for that here so I sort of fell into sheriffing,” she explained. “I didn’t even intend to move here, I was just passing through. But I had car trouble and got stuck for a while, then the job opened up and I just—stayed.”

“It’s a good place to stay,” Killian remarked.

“Yeah. Way better than where we were living in the city. Henry was really little when we moved and I’m glad he’s growing up in a place like this.”

“Aye, it seems an ideal spot to raise a child.”

There was a wistfulness in his voice that made her heart thump harder. “I just realised I never asked you where you live,” she said.

“Ah.” He scratched behind his ear again. “That is a question. I’ve been in Boston for the past few years but I’m starting to think I need a change. One of the reasons I was glad for this break in Storybrooke.”

Emma focused on keeping her breathing steady. “Where do you think you might go?” she asked.

“I might”—he shot her a mildly wary glance—“stay here.”

“Here? As in Storybrooke here?”

“Aye. There’s a job opening up next year at the high school library that I’ve applied for.”

“I—” She blinked in surprise. “Wow.”

“I hope it doesn’t freak you out, love,” said Killian, stumbling over his words in his haste to speak them. “It wasn’t because of—well, it isn’t as though you aren’t a factor, but mostly I just—”

“You could see a future here.” Emma nodded. “Hey, I get it. Same.”

He visibly relaxed, expelling a long breath before continuing. “I actually put in the application before we met,” he explained. “About fifteen minutes before, in fact. But I’d be lying if I said the prospect of staying here didn’t grow considerably brighter when I realised there was a chance you could be part of that future.” His eyes widened when he realised what he’d said. “I mean, I—”

“Yeah.” Emma reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know what you mean.”

Dusk had fallen by that time, and the stars were beginning to appear in the sky. Killian quickly tidied up the plates and utensils and cheese, then produced from his seemingly bottomless satchel a thermos full of hot chocolate.

“Mmmm,” said Emma, “that smells amazing. Though I usually have mine with some—”

“Cinnamon?” Killian grinned at her as he held up a small jar of the spice. “Aye.”

“Henry told you,” guessed Emma.

“That he did.”

“When did you have time to mine my son for information about me?” she teased him.

“We had some quite interesting conversation in between discussions of moons and planets,” he informed her. “It’s a truly wonderful boy you have, love.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, accepting the steaming cup he offered her. “He really is.”

Cradling their cups of chocolate, they relaxed back against the pillows and gazed up at the darkening sky. As the stars grew brighter Killian showed her some constellations, pointing to them with one hand while the other lay next to hers on the blanket, close enough that she could brush his little finger with her own. She slid her hand closer and let her fingers curl around his, and when he turned his hand to grip hers more firmly she relaxed against him, resting her head on his shoulder as they sipped their chocolate, looked up at the sky, and talked. They talked about everything, likes and dislikes, pastimes and pet hates. Their childhoods and their dreams for the future, their hopes and their fears. She told him, haltingly, about Neal, and he replied with the story of his affair with a married woman, which had led to him leaving the navy. For two such different people they had a surprising amount in common, she realised. Not so much in the specifics of their lives as in the way they looked at the world, and the experiences that had shaped them. Emma had never in her life felt so understood.

All too soon her phone buzzed in her pocket, reminding her that it was almost midnight and she had promised Henry she’d be back before then.

“I have to go,” she said apologetically. “Henry—”

“Of course,” he replied. “I’ll walk with you.”

He kept her hand in his as they stood and headed back to her apartment, twining his fingers with hers and brushing his thumb feather-light across her knuckles, setting her heart racing in her chest. His hand was warm and rough and the gentle movements of his thumb sent sparks dancing up her arm and all across her skin.

When they reached her door she turned with a smile, still holding tight to his fingers, loath to break the contact until she absolutely had to.

“I had a wonderful time,” she said. “We should do this again.”

His own smile lit his face, stealing her breath as it always did. “Any time, love,” he murmured. “Perhaps next time we can go for a sail.”

“I’d love that.”

His eyes were soft as they caressed her face and she found herself holding her breath as they swayed in each other’s orbit, easing closer and closer, and then closer still until she felt his fingertips brushing across her cheek, until he cradled her jaw in his palm and their lips met.

The kiss began gently, tentatively—sweet brushes of lips and sighs of breaths that soon grew deeper, hotter, more insistent as the hands they still held gripped tighter, as his fingers left her cheek to tangle in her hair and hers fisted in his sweater to pull him closer. A deep groan rumbled in his chest and Emma felt herself pushed back against the door, his lips insistent now, his tongue hot in her mouth and his body firm against hers. She released his sweater to curl her arm around his neck and hold him tight, pressing herself as close as she could get, rolling her hips over the hardness she could feel low against her belly.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this way, if she ever had. Like she couldn’t get enough of him—his feel and smell and taste—like she wanted to tear off his clothes and have him right here, and damn the consequences. But also she felt safe, secure in the certainty that while he clearly wanted her just as much, once the kiss ended he would say goodnight and go, no pressure, no demands, no resentment. She was certain of this because she trusted him, and the inherent decency she’d sensed in him from the beginning. That kind of trust was freeing, she realised in a bright and stunning flash of understanding. Wonderfully freeing, to let down her defences and put herself into the hands of another person, knowing he wouldn’t take advantage or use that trust to hurt her. Her heart soared as she hugged Killian tighter and kissed him with everything she had, and when the kiss finally ended and he rested his forehead against hers, all she felt was happiness and the stirrings, deep in her heart, of a far stronger emotion.

“That was—” he gasped, blinking dazed eyes and clearly struggling for words.

“Amazing?” she supplied. “Incredible? Hot as fuck?”

He gave a breathless chuckle. “One hell of a goodnight kiss. Plus yeah, all those other things.”

He pressed another kiss on her lips, brief and chaste and gentle, then released her and stepped back. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said.

Emma tried not to feel bereft at the loss of his warmth and closeness. “Maybe you could come over for dinner,” she said. “I mean, if you’re not busy. It’s just Henry would love to see you, and—”

“I’d love that,” he said, gently interrupting her before her stream of words could get out of control. “Let me know what I can bring. Not brownies this time.”

His eyes twinkled with amusement and she gave a slight wince. “Was it that obvious?”

“I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, Emma, but you’re a bit of an open book,” he replied. “One I’d very much like to read more of.”

“I—I’d like that too,” she said softly. “And my favourite dessert is lemon bars.”

“Lemon bars I can manage.” He smiled, a bit wistfully but with a new light in his eyes that made her feel like she could fly. “Goodnight, Emma,” he murmured.

“Night, Killian.”

She watched him until he disappeared around the bend in the stairs then slipped into her apartment, shutting the door silently behind her and leaning against for a moment. She closed her eyes and ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, then gave herself a little shake and took off her jacket and shoes before padding silently into Henry’s room. He was fast asleep, with the blankets kicked off and bunched around his waist. She pulled them down and tucked them in around him.

“Mom?” he muttered.

“Yeah, kid. I’m home,” she whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

Henry blinked heavy eyelids. “Did you have a good time?”

“I did. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. Go back to sleep.”

“K,” he replied, and in his next breath she could tell he was asleep again.

—

The next morning Emma dropped Henry off at a friend’s house and went to Granny’s for some coffee. Ruby greeted her with a scowl.

“You here alone?” she demanded.

Emma crossed her arms over her chest. “I am.”

“August another no-go, then?”

“I have to admit, he was closer than the others,” Emma conceded. “Probably your best attempt yet.”

“But not good enough?”

“Nope. Not good enough.” Perhaps once there may have been a time when someone like August would have caught Emma’s eye. Before Neal. Even, possibly, before she’d met Killian. But now...

Ruby planted a fist on her hip and shook her finger at Emma’s nose. “I’ll get you, Emma Swan,” she declared. “Sooner or later, come hell or high water, I will find the man for you. I swear it.”

“Ruby—”

“Nope.” The shaking finger became a palm in Emma’s face, which she irritatedly pushed aside. “I know you don’t approve of my tactics,” Ruby continued, “but the gauntlet’s been thrown down. My honour is at stake.”

“Your honour? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously! I’m going to find you a guy or die trying, and that’s just how things are. Now, here’s your coffee.” She thrust a takeaway cup into Emma’s hand and Emma sighed heavily, watching Ruby through narrowed eyes as she handed another cup to another customer, before finally taking a long sip.

It was a minute before her brain registered the taste of what was in her mouth and then she spit the coffee out with a choking gasp.

“What the fuck is this?”

“Coffee,” said Ruby, who was standing ready with a pile of paper napkins. She fluttered her lashes innocently. “Why, is there something wrong with it?”

Just then Emma heard the sound of vigorous coughing and a very familiar voice spoke up from behind her.

“Excuse me, lass, but I think you may have given me the wrong drink,” it said.

“Oh did I?” cried Ruby. “I am so sorry! What seems to be the problem with it?”

“Well, it’s, er, very sweet.”

Emma sighed and turned around to face Killian. His face brightened in surprise and pleasure but she spoke before he could greet her. “I think you must have mine,” she said. “You take it black?”

“Aye.”

“Here.” She held out the cup she was holding. “This one’s yours.”

“Ah. And I suppose that makes this yours.”

They exchanged cups and smiles, Killian’s bright but confused and Emma’s resigned, especially when their fingers brushed and her heart began to race.

“Wow,” said Ruby loudly, “what a funny mix-up. You two should definitely get each other’s names, in case it happens again.”

Killian opened his mouth to reply but Emma gave a tiny shake of her head and he closed it again, his forehead wrinkling with a baffled frown. Emma turned to Ruby.

“All right,” she hissed. “You win.

“I—what?”

“I like this one. I’ll take him. Congratulations, you did it.”

Ruby looked genuinely nonplussed. “Are you serious?”

“Yep.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch.”

“Well I am a bit of a catch,” piped up Killian, who was watching the exchange with amusement and dawning understanding.

Ruby’s eyes flitted between them, narrowed in suspicion. “Emma Swan,” she growled, “if you’re fucking with me…”

“I’m not! Honestly. Here, look, I’ll prove it.”

She set her cup down on the counter and turned back to Killian, watching his eyes go wide and the smirk fall from his face as she grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him in for a kiss. Dimly she heard the sound of Ruby’s gasp and of Killian’s coffee cup hitting the floor, but then his arms were around her and he was sighing against her lips and all Emma could think was that what she’d told Ruby just now was true. She did like this one, and she damned well would take him. For the first time in far too long Emma truly and honestly envisioned what her life could be with a man in it, a partner to share it with, and found that the prospect didn’t scare her. She was excited for it. She wanted it. She wanted Killian.

For all its heat and passion he kiss ended softly, and she smiled up at Killian, still clinging to his jacket, pressing her forehead to his. He grinned back, delighted if slightly dazed. “That was rather forward of you, lass, considering we only just met,” he said, deadpan. “But I can’t say as I object.”

“Mmmm,” she hummed. “What do you say we take our coffee somewhere quiet and get to know each other a bit better?”

“I’d say that’s an excellent plan. But as to the coffee, well—” He indicated the steaming puddle at their feet.

“Here you go,” said Ruby, and they both turned to see her holding out a fresh cup. “On the house.”

Killian shook his head. “Oh, I couldn’t—”

“Look, anyone who gets a kiss like that off Emma is going to need it,” said Ruby firmly. She raised an eyebrow at each of them in turn. “There’s something going on here that I don’t know about, and rest assured I will find out what it is,” she informed them. “But for now take your coffee and go. You two are distractingly hot together and I have other customers.”

“Well if you’re—”

“I said go!” Ruby glared until Killian took the cup from her. “Enjoy. Oh, and Emma—”

“Yeah?”

“Call me later.” Ruby tapped a sharp-looking fingernail meaningfully on the countertop. “Or else.”

—

@kmomof4, @stahlop, @spartanguard, @mariakov81, @teamhook

#cs fic #cs ff #cs ff au #modern au #romcom #captain swan #matchmaking #hijinks #the meet-cute #profdanglaisstuff

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doc-pickles · 4 years ago

Text

all jokes aside

Welp... I’m a day late to Leya’s birthday but in my defense I thought it was on the 6th so really I’m early. Anyways HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEYA aka @iamtrebleclefstories!!!! Thanks for always letting me bounce my ideas off of you and for constantly sending me into emotional distress. You’re a real good friend.

“You’re not really pregnant are you?”

The question causes Jo to look from her hand that’s interlocked with Alex’s to his face. He’s taken out his vampire teeth but he’s looking at her with an unreadable expression. She stops walking for a moment, pressing her free hand against Alex’s chest with a grin.

“No I’m not. You think that’s how I would tell you,” Jo let a laugh out as Alex pulled her closer to him. “I promise when I am pregnant someday I’ll hire a skywriter or something.”

“I was kinda hoping you were. A baby wouldn’t be a bad thing,” Alex finally let a small grin paint itself on his face, eyes meeting Jo’s uncertainly. “I mean, I don’t think so. I don’t know about you.”

Jo matched his grin, pulling Alex into a searing kiss as her hands tangled in his hair. When they pulled apart, both were grinning wildly, “I don’t think a baby would be a bad thing at all.”

“That’s probably the best thing I’ve ever heard you say,” Alex dipped his head down to trail kisses along Jo’s neck, eliciting a string of giggle from her. “If we weren’t in the middle of a parking lot I would definitely do dirty things to you.”

“Well if you keep moving we can do dirty things in the car,” a startled yelp left Jo as Alex hoisted her over his shoulder and began to trek towards his car. “Thank god, I’ve been waiting all day for this.”

“Paula, how’s my clinic looking today?”

Alex Karev didn’t think he could be in a better mood today. In the last 24 hours he’d managed to secure more funding for Pac North, avoided a police investigation of the mass grave the construction team had stumbled upon, and finally legally married his wife, leading to the hot car sex in the parking lot of the courthouse last night. The cherry on top though was as he and Jo climbed into bed last night and she informed him she was ready to start trying for a baby. The news had caught him by surprise, the prospect of starting a family with the woman he loved causing him to walk around the hospital with a megawatt grin.

“Things are running pretty smoothly here,” the older nurse handed Alex an electronic chart as she surveyed the clinic. “Actually, we’ve had quite a few patients come in today which is always a good thing to see.”

Alex scrolled through the patient intake list, shocked to see so many people in today. For Grey Sloan that would’ve been a normal day, but for Pac North the volume of patients was a new surge. He looked around the room, proud of the changes that he’d helped make, when his eyes stopped on a familiar pair of red slippers peeking out from under one of the patient curtains.

“Paula, who’s in bed five,” Alex asked the woman to his left. He was just seeing things, he knew he was, but the slippers were the same ones that sat in front of his bed every night.

“She’s been puking into a basin all morning, Katie ran her labs which should be back soon,” Paula shrugged as she pulled the chart up on the tablet in her hands. “Pretty sure she’s just pregnant, but I have her hooked up to an IV because the poor thing is so dehydrated.”

Alex looked over the chart that Paula handed him, almost rolling his eyes as he read the name of the patient. Brooke Wilson. If he wasn’t so worried about his wife, Alex might’ve laughed out loud.

“You let me know when those labs come back, I’m gonna go check on Miss Wilson over there,” Alex smiled at Paula before walking over to bed five, pulling back the curtain. “You know your fake name was probably the most obvious thing you could’ve picked.”

Jo was curled up in a ball, hands clutching a basin close to her chest as she looked up at Alex. Her face was pale and she looked like she hadn’t slept well.

“Less obvious than Karev, I was hoping to keep you away for a while longer,” Jo mustered up her best smile as Alex sat next to her, hand coming up to stroke her hair. “I think I jinxed myself.”

“This is why we don’t make jokes about being pregnant,” Jo groaned then and buried her face into the pillow below her. “You okay? I mean besides the throwing up?”

“No I wanna die. My whole body hurts and I’ve been craving a burrito since I woke up but I just threw it up and I can’t even keep water down,” Jo’s eyes began to water, large tears rolling down her face as she looked up at Alex. “And now I’m crying about the burritos. I hate this!”

“Doctor Karev, I have those lab results,” Paula peaked her head around the curtain, eyeing Alex and Jo with a smirk. “Looks like I was right.”

“Well on the bright side, at least you don’t have the stomach flu,” Alex let a chuckle out as he brought Jo into his side, his hand lazily resting on her stomach. “I can’t believe you made that joke and you were actually pregnant.”

“I can’t believe we agreed to start trying when I was already pregnant,” Jo laughed as she grinned at Alex. “Sounds about right for us.”

The pair dissolved into a fit of laughter, elated over the fact that their family was growing, even if they’d only just decided that would be something they were ready for. Nothing had ever gone quite to plan for them, but they were nothing if not people who went with the flow no matter where it took them.

“Hey sorry I didn’t hire a sky writer,” Jo struggled to hold back her laughter as her and Alex met each other’s gazes. “Maybe next time.”

#jolex #alex karev #jo wilson #jo karev #greys anatomy #jo x alex #jolex fanfic #jolex fic #nina writes

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Galactica, Chapter 46 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Pearl invited Adore to a party

This Chapter: Adore has a very bad week, the design team gets more cronuts, and Raven has a lunch date with her bestie.

***

“I don’t understand…”

It had been a great night. Pearl had picked her up, both of them dressed to kill, Adore’s hair freshly dyed an icy turquoise. They’d had dinner, laughing their asses off while they swapped stories about concert debauchery and their favorite bands, and then went onto the party. It was just hours of dancing and flashing lights and pounding bass, their bodies pressed together, chemistry electric like it’d been when they first got together.

Things were so heated at one point that Pearl dragged Adore off to fuck her against a brick wall, making her shiver and moan, fingers gripping the lapels of Pearl’s motorcycle jacket.

After the party, they’d gone to an all-night diner in DUMBO for pancakes, sharing sticky kisses, leaving most of the food untouched as they giggled happily, party drugs slowly leaving their systems.

And then lastly, they’d wandered over to the bridge, the best spot in the whole city to watch the sunrise.

It was then, snuggled in Pearl’s arms as they watched the sky slowly begin to brighten, the first faint rays of light turning a few clouds pink, when Adore carefully brought up the idea of being monogamous. If not now, she figured, clinging together under a cotton-candy sky, then when.

“This open thing, I just...I feel like it’s making me paranoid, you know?”

What she wasn’t expecting, not after a night like that, was that Pearl would immediately let go of her, shaking her head, saying, “I’m just not ready for that.”

Which brought them to the present moment.

“I don’t understand…” Adore began, eyes welling up with tears. “Didn’t you have fun tonight?”

“Yeah, of course. I always have fun with you,” Pearl said.

“So then why-” Adore gulped as a single tear spilled down her cheek. “Why am I not enough for you?”

“It’s not that! You’re great. You are. There are just things I miss when we’re together. And I don’t want to make you a promise that I can’t keep.”

“Like what? What do you miss?”

“Like…” Pearl faltered. “Like, little lacy panties and kissing with lipgloss. Having a manicured hand in my hair while I eat a girl out. Watching an ass in high heels and smelling floral perfumes. Carrying her tiny purse-”

“So...I’m not femme enough?” Adore asked, head still shaking in confusion.

“You’re the one who asked.” Pearl sighed, pushing away from the bridge. “I like you, and it makes me sound like a douche, but, I dunno Adore. I’m a lesbian. I like girls. Sometimes-” Pearl looked over at her. “Sometimes you seem more like a boy.”

Adore swore she could feel her heart shatter, a wrecked sob leaving her. Growing up, one of her biggest sources of shame was not being enough of a “girl.” She never liked frilly things, she never liked the things her older sisters did, like ballet classes and fashion and shopping. She remembered being a kid, bored silly with the endless conversations about nail polish and push-up bras that she was subjected to.

When she came out, one of the best things was that a lot of those expectations were suddenly removed, lifted from her shoulders. She could make her own rules, and so she did. But sometimes, secretly, she still worried. She still glanced at her reflection when in a group of other girls, still wondered sometimes how she measured up.

Most of the time, she got plenty of validation--her friends praising her constantly, and even her sister’s lighthearted shade was affectionate, never failing to slip in a compliment. So she was able to curb her inner demons, really believe that she was beautiful and cute and lovable, even if she wasn’t the most feminine.

But today, hearing Pearl’s honest opinion...it was like someone confirming her worst fear. Like a boy. As she continued crying, her chest aching, she felt like even more of a monster than she ever had.

“C’mon, don’t cry.” Pearl didn’t touch her, and Adore was so thankful for that, as it would have made everything worse. “You’re a really cool boy, and it’s fun to spend time with you.”

“Just stop talking.”

“Let’s get a cab and head back-”

“You think I wanna ride in a cab with you right now?!” Adore asked angrily, swiping at her eyes, surely smearing her makeup even more. “Fuck you!”

“Adore-”

“Just go!” she exclaimed hoarsely, glaring right into Pearl’s tired eyes, daring her.

After a resigned sigh, Pearl muttered, “Whatever you say,” and turned, walking back towards Brooklyn.

***

Courtney had almost finished getting ready for work, putting the last touches on her makeup and looking for a pair of earrings both plain enough to be acceptable, but that she was certain she hadn’t worn in the last two weeks. She’d just pulled out a pair of small, inoffensive black hoops when her phone started buzzing, sending a wave of fear and nausea through her all at once.

It was barely 6:30, and getting a phone call at this time could only mean that there was some pending disaster for her at work--or worse, something she’d already screwed up. She reached for the phone with her heart in throat, stomach churning, only to see to her surprise that it wasn’t her work phone ringing. Brow furrowed, she picked up her old personal iPhone, wondering what could be wrong.

“Adore? Are you okay?”

“Pearl and I broke up,” came Adore’s shaky voice, hitching on the last word.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!”

“We had the best night, I thought things were turning around, and then she-”

What came next was almost totally incomprehensible as Adore tried to speak through her sobs.

“Where are you, honey? Do you need me to come and-”

“I’m on the Brooklyn Bridge.”

“You’re what!?” Courtney’s heart nearly stopped, panic rushing through her like a bolt of lightning.

“No, I’m…It’s just cause we were at a party here. Don’t-” Adore managed to chuckle drily through her tears. “Don’t worry.”

“Oh. Okay. Good.”

“I’m just gonna walk across and then like...I dunno. Probably go home and sleep all day. But I thought...maybe we could hang out this week?”

“Of course! Whenever you want, just say the word. Okay?”

“Okay. Thanks. I’m sorry to...I know you’re probably heading to work, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You know you can call me anytime. And Dore?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

***

Pearl was leaning back in her chair, her eyes closed, a constant throb behind her right eye.

Normally, she had nothing against the big glass doors and windows that let her entire team see her at all times, the installment of them her own choice, but right now, Pearl desperately wished she had a private office.

She was feeling absolutely wretched from last night, and if she was being honest, it wasn’t just leftover alcohol and party drugs that had her feeling like shit.

Adore had completely misunderstood, had refused to listen to her when she explained herself, the whole thing a terrible terrible mess.

It wasn’t Pearl’s fault that Adore had agreed to something she apparently wasn’t cool with, this whole situation only happening because Adore didn’t actually know herself.

Pearl crossed her arms, groaning, the lie comforting for a moment, but it was just that, a lie.

Adore had asked for honesty, but it seemed like Pearl had made a mistake indulging it. She didn’t know what to do, the guilty feeling new and unfamiliar.

“Pearl?” Pearl opened her eyes to see Laganja standing at her door, a curious expression on her face. “I need you to-”

“I don’t need to do shit until after you get me a coffee.”

“Okay boss?” Laganja raised an eyebrow. “Way to be a bitch.”

Laganja turned around and walked away, Pearl groaning as she slid even further down her chair, today going from bad to worse to terrible.

***

“Hello! Earth to Chachki.”

“Huh?” Violet looked up, Bob’s voice cutting through her thoughts. It was midmorning, Trixie coming into work with boxes of cronuts, a smile on his face as the designers had flocked around him.

Everyone had gathered at the couches, Violet’s stack of magazines she had already read in the corner, Maxwell asking if he could read them when she was done.

“Are you going to eat that?” Bob pointed at Violet’s plate.

“Oh.” Violet looked down, the pastry untouched. “Umh-” April had been kind enough to bring Violet a plate without being asked, her and Alexis sitting side by side. “What’s Trixie’s deal with these anyway?”

“With the cronuts?” Jovan looked over at her, Maxwell next to him.

“It means there’s a tough week ahead-” Maxwell waved his cronut around. “It’s kind of an apology in advance.”

“Ha,” Violet smiled, that statement so fitting with everything she knew of Trixie, the man downstairs in a meeting with Bendela.

“And the question still stands on whether or not you're eating that,” Bob nodded, his eyes still firmly on Violet’s cronut.

“Ah.” She hadn’t even tasted it, but Violet was not in the mood, Sutan’s question about Aspen still playing around in her head. “No.”

“Dibs then!” Blu grinned, reaching over the coffee table and snatching it from Violet’s plate.

“Hey!” Bob yelled, outrage on his face. “That was mine.”

“We can share it.” Blu smiled, breaking it in two.

“You guys,” Alexis rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her coffee as she flicked to the next page. “Awww, look!” Alexis lit up, turning the magazine around. “Remember when Lupita Nyong’o wore my dress to the Grammys?”

“Gimme!” Maxwell reached out, snatching it from Alexis' hand and Violet leaned over so she could see too, Jovan inches away from her.

Lupita looked stunning in her dark blue gown, the flowy skirt making her look like a goddess, Alexis’ signature draping all over it.

“She looks great,” Violet said, “You should be very proud.”

“Thanks, girl!”

Violet looked closer at the page, grimacing when she saw Katy Perry’s weirdly unflattering, asymmetrical suit.

“Katy Perry, though, what an absolute mess. It looks as if Maxwell and Jovan collabed while on acid.”

The second the words left her mouth, Violet regretted them.

This was the first time she had spoken her mind around her new coworkers, the first time she had let out her most sarcastic and dry thoughts, her heart speeding up.

Jovan and Maxwell looked at each other, and Violet tensed, prepared for the angry response she was sure would be coming. But instead of snapping at her or putting her in her place, both men burst out laughing, the rest of the group quickly joining in.

This was unlike anything Violet had ever experienced in school, her peers not laughing at her, but apparently with her instead, the feeling completely new. No one giving her death stares or looking at her like she was a stain on a carpet.

“Omigod, draaag them!” Bob exclaimed, wiping his eyes.

“I-” Violet didn’t know what to say. As a child, she had kept her mouth shut, never saying anything, even when it got her in trouble. It had gotten better at the academy, her body speaking for her, but her classmates and coworkers had taken her silence as a judgement, her corrections of their work like attacks instead of the advice she had meant it as.

In college, she had just stopped giving her opinion all together, another girl leaving a critique in tears when Violet had shared her honest thoughts.

“I didn’t mean-”

“Just to be clear,” Maxwell smiled, “I refuse to have this color story pinned on me.”

“Oh girl shut up,” Jovan grabbed the magazine. “It’s not the colors that makes this terrible, it’s the fucking cut. Are you blind?”

“Anything but the neckline is fine.”

“Okay, so you are blind?”

“I think all of it looks like shit too.”

“BLU!”

Violet smiled, watching her coworkers argue, for once, feeling like she completely and absolutely belonged with them.

***

Bianca stepped off the elevator into her foyer, nearly tripping over a pair of studded black combat boots telling her that she wasn’t coming home to her usual empty apartment.

“Adore? Hello? Where are you?”

Bianca walked through the living room and dining room to the kitchen, assuming that’s where she’d find her sister, but there was no Adore to be found.

“Adore!”

She started to get concerned when yipping from the dogs guided her into the den, where Adore was curled up on the giant L-shaped sofa, buried under 3 blankets, a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels sitting on the coffee table.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Adore looked up, blue eyes red and watery, lip quivering, and Bianca immediately softened at the sight.

“What’s wrong?” Bianca asked, although she had a pretty good idea already.

Adore rubbed her eyes and sniffled before saying, “Please just don’t say ‘I told you so,’ okay?”

“Aww, baby girl…” Bianca rushed to her side, wrapping her up into a hug and rocking her, rubbing her back, letting her cry it out. “I’m so sorry, pussycat.”

“I’m so stupid,” Adore cried into her neck, and Bianca shook her head vigorously.

“You’re not. Not at all. She’s the stupid one. Okay?” Bianca murmured against her temple.

“Do you have any ice cream?”

Bianca smiled slightly, brushing away a few of Adore’s tears with her thumbs. “I’ll have some delivered. Cookie dough or fudge brownie?”

“Both.”

“Coming right up.” Bianca pressed a kiss to Adore’s forehead and reached for her phone. The fact that things between Adore and Pearl had ended like this was no surprise, not to anyone with half a brain, but she still felt badly for her sister, would still do anything possible to help her feel better.

***

“Juju!” Raven stood up, smiling brightly as she watched her best friend make her way through the restaurant. “It’s so good to see you!” Raven pulled her in for a hug, breathing in the scent of the coconut oil Juju always used.

“Hi gorgeous!” Juju said, hugging her back, and Raven grinned, pulling back to take her in.

Juju looked amazing, her brown hair styled in her signature curls, her blouse of the day a satin lilac with a bow. And of course that bump, growing every day.

“Mama, how did you grow this much in two weeks?” Raven put a hand on Juju’s belly, a tight pencil skirt holding it in. She couldn’t feel the baby yet, but that didn’t matter.

“My best guess is curly fries.” Juju laughed. “I’ve been hitting up Arby’s on my way home from the salon every day, because I…” Juju framed her face with triumphant jazz hands, “am garbage!”

“That’s why we love you,” Raven giggled, pressing a kiss to her friend’s cheek before getting back into their seats.

Raven and Juju had been friends for years. Raven had liked Juju from the moment they met, Sutan putting her in Juju’s salon chair the second he had signed her for Elite, but they hadn’t officially clicked until she had started dating Raja.

Raven had never really had a best friend growing up, and she was so happy that she had Juju, even though they didn’t see each other as much as they both wanted to. Raven often visited the Sanderson household, spending her evenings there sometimes when Raja worked late--but with the twins, Detox and Kelly around, they rarely had time just the two of them. So as soon as the waiter came by and took their orders, she got down to business.

“Tell me all about your trip!” Raven said. “How’s the new location doing?”

“Oh man. I mean it’s going well so far, but could I have chosen a worse time to open up a new salon? I’m so busy already, and now this new kid. I’m a little worried.”

Juju’s New York salon was such a success that over the years she’d opened up several more locations: Los Angeles, Miami, and Chicago. And now, her latest one in Atlanta, opened just a month before she’d found out that she was pregnant again.

“If anyone can do it, you can!” Raven told her with an encouraging squeeze, remembering how hectic things had been after the twins were born. “Look at it this way...at least it’s only one baby this time.”

“Ha! That’s true. Anyway, so far so good. Plus it’s around the corner from the best restaurant I have ever been, in my life”

“In Atlanta?” Raven asked, stirring her iced tea, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes, don’t be such a snob!” Juju laughed.

“Whatever you say,” Raven replied.

“Rave, seriously. I mean the food was good, but the desserts?”

Raven perked up, eyes getting bigger and bigger as Juju proceeded to describe a decadent chocolate mousse cheesecake and coconut bread pudding soufflé.

“Stop, omigod!” she finally interrupted, picking up her napkin to fan herself with it. “This is too public. It’s like watching porn on the subway.”

Jujubee laughed, clapping her hands. “Sounds fun! I’m gonna try that. Also...” Juju gestured to the dessert tray rolling by, piled high with confections.

“Ugh, I would push my grandmother in front of a bus for one of those!” Raven groaned, and Juju laughed again.

“So have one! You can’t still be on your runway diet, right?”

“No, I am. “ Raven sighed. “Galactica is doing that showroom thing for the holiday collection next week, and in December I have two swimwear shoots.”

Just thinking about it, Raven groaned. She was excited about the Galactica booking, showroom shows technically way below her level of modeling, but Raven took any excuse she could to work with Raja, spending time with her finacée more than enough reason to put up with the tedious task of playing mannequin for the day.

What was starting not to feel worth it, was the swimwear shoots.

Raven wanted the money, and she was happy she had work, but she couldn’t wait for Thanksgiving, Sutan giving her a mere 6 hours of carte blanche to eat whatever she wanted.

“I’ve been in the gym two hours every day, eating like, grass and leaves.”

Raja had been sweet about it, encouraging her and helping her, but her fiancée just didn’t understand, getting in shape and most importantly keeping the same shape never an issue for Raja, Raja’s measurements largely the same in her 40s as they had been in her 20s. Raven was just happy that Raja seemed to love her body no matter what, the grind of being perfect getting harder and harder every year.

“It’s been horrendous.”

“Aww, I’m sorry boo.” Juju reached over the table, squeezing Raven’s forearm. “If it helps, Kelly’s getting into cooking and yesterday she made us the most god-awful pancakes I’ve ever had. I didn’t want to discourage her so I had five.”

“How is you eating five pancakes supposed to make me feel better?!” Raven shrieked.

“They were terrible!”

“They were pancakes! Do you know how long it’s been since I had a pancake, you fuckin’ bitch?!”

Juju opened her mouth to reply, but instead, caught sight of the absolutely enraged expression on her friend’s face and burst out laughing. Soon both of them were laughing, clutching their sides, completely unconcerned with the number of Upper East Side ladies giving them the stink-eye.

***

COURTNEY: Hey honey, how’s it going?

ADORE: Well. Bianca is keeping the liquor cabinet well-stocked, so...counting my blessings.

COURTNEY: I really want to see you.

ADORE: Me too. Ditch work tomorrow and come hang out with me.

COURTNEY: Ha! I wish.

ADORE: Maybe Friday? Sleepover at my place?

COURTNEY: It’s a date. <3

***

“If you’d please direct your attention to the beading samples in front of you, I’ve made horizontal and vertical variations, the horizontal the pattern I’ve integrated on the bodice-”

As an assistant, Violet had been used to Fame’s steely blue eyes every single day, a squint, a lifted brow, the twist of a mouth more than enough to tell Violet everything she needed to know.

Now, it felt like Fame was a complete stranger, her boss sitting with Raja at her side, both of them completely impassive, Fame’s face not giving anything away.

“And it’s my clear conviction that that will be the best choice, the lines creating a more pleasant visual.”

Violet knew it wasn’t her outfit, her hair styled with a golden clip exactly like Fame liked it, her nails the almond shape and pale pink that was never a problem, her shoes the regulated height so Violet wouldn’t tower over Fame if they had to walk anywhere together.

“For the sleeves, I hope you’ll considered the flared options,” Violet twisted her mannequin, showing off the right sleeve that she had carefully attached with loose stitches to her dress, “But I’ve also done a more traditional slender-”

“Violet.”

Violet froze, looking over at Fame, her boss wearing a white sweater and white high waisted pants, the row of pearls on her Jimmy Choo’s matching her bracelet and earrings.

“That’s all.”

“Oh,” Violet felt her stomach clench, a flash of disappointment washing over her. “Yes Miss.”

Violet grabbed her mannequin, knowing defeat when it was staring her in the face. She had no idea what she had done wrong, Fame cutting her off mid sentence, all the other designers getting feedback or questions.

Violet watched as Alexis rolled up, the other woman instantly filling out the room with her personality, even making Raja laugh as she showed off the several garments she was working on.

Violet swallowed her disappointment, breathing through her nose as she left the meeting room, her nails digging into her palm.

Years of ballet had taught her that sometimes, even your best wasn’t enough, but without feedback, Violet had no idea what to change or how to fix the situation.

She sat at her desk, tailoring thankfully sending up a package with options for details on her prêt-à-porter so she could distract herself.

Violet was going over the button options for the clothes that would end up mass produced for the stores, when she felt Trixie’s hand on her shoulder.

“Good work today Violet.” Trixie smiled, sitting down on the edge of her desk. He was wearing a blue fuzzy sweater with a teddy bear on it, the creation so clearly made by Katya, a clipboard in his hand.

“Thanks.” Violet bit her cheek, doing her best not to let the disappointment show on her face.

“I know it’s tough right now, not knowing where you stand, but remember. You’re most likely already in the collection somewhere.” Trixie’s voice was soft, which actually only made Violet feel worse, his compassion not at all what she needed. “While we’re waiting for placements and final feedback, I need you to focus on Holiday.”

“Yes.” Violet nodded. She only had one piece in the holiday collection, but she still had to do her best.

“Everything is happening Monday, and I hope you’re ready for it. I expect you to be there bright and early, getting to know how these things work will be crucial for your further career here.”

“Yes sir-” Violet cut herself off, the sir feeling all wrong. “You got it coach.”

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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years ago

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My Just Dance Playlist and who I would battle against / team up with in order to remain the champ

Hey lovelies so I— like usual— am procrastinating so I have decided— at the behest of literally no one— to extensively go through my workout Just Dance Playlist and explain in depth who I would 1 v 1 against, why I would pick them, and why I would— most likely— win.

PSA: This will be very biased and will literally be me bragging about how I would win at Just Dance every time with very little factual proof (because, really, how am I getting this proof?) and then literally me being self absorbed for the entirety of this essay length post— a girl’s gotta’ self care you know?

This is also lowkey practice for a fic I’ll be putting out at the start of Dinner at Dizzy’s so stay tuned it’ll be a fun one

Sorry in advance for the 2.4k essay of me being self obsessed

Also the links are just vids of the choreo in case you’re invested

Into The Unknown | Idina Menzel

This is a warm up song— like if I don’t do this one to stretch I’ll literally die— but definitely Wanda because we’re both soft (don’t fight me on this— I just know she’s a soft girl and would LOVE Just Dance). I don’t think I would aim to win on this one— I like her too much and, again, this is a warm up. She would definitely sing along with me too. If Sam was in a good mood he would also join in on this one— he has two nephews and is fun as fuck so I do not doubt he knows all the words and would be all in. Honestly this song is a warm up so anyone could join and I wouldn’t aim to win— unless it was Tony— because the man’s ego is perhaps the only one bigger than mine— or Steve— because I don’t know why I just think it would be cute to watch the man fumble because he 100% can’t dance beyond the slow dances.

Let It Go | Idina Menzel

Okay so another warm up (yes, I need two warm ups) so again the same principles apply. Again Wanda would be all over this one and I would go as far as to say Pietro— fuck off he is an Avenger and in my head he’s still very much alive— would join in too because he’s like a puppy. I would make Bucky do it too— cue the pout because he would try to say no and nope, no sir, you’re playing— because, uh hello, super soldier dancing to Disney songs. I think I would pull Nat in too because she needs a little push and once she’s in she’d be fully in— and, duh, I want a sexy woman assassin to dance with me.

Bad Romance | Lady Gaga

This isn’t my favorite song but— lucky for me— it’s a group song with three dancers so it won’t make me look bad right away. I would pull my sexy girl gang and get Nat and Wanda in on the action. I feel like Nat would be in the front— because, again, hello sexy— and not to mention that I feel like her skills would make her able to easily adapt to the moves— and then Wanda and I would just be chilling in the back, giggling and being cute. This is Nat’s moment— can you tell I only get competitive against the men? Fuck trying to beat Nat, I’m using this time to absorb the sexiness— I will be needing it for later on in this playlist.

Hot N Cold | Katy Perry

OKAY THIS IS ARGUABLY MY FAVOURITE SONG ON MY PLAYLIST! This is 100% my best song. Like “perfects” across the board every single time. I have it memorized and if this song ever comes on in public I’ll be fucked because I’ll have to dance to it and look dumb. Anyway— given that this is my best song— Sam. I can afford to throw him in here because— despite the fact that I know this man has literally all the moves— I have this song ingrained in the essence of my soul. It would probably be a semi-close race but I have the added bonus of knowing the tricks of the choreography. He may be skilled but I am obsessive and have poured hours into this song. I would probably laugh when he loses because of the adrenaline (again, it was close, my heart would be pounding). This is dirty and strategic but this is about me winning and nothing else. Better luck next time babes— rematch anytime.

Girlfriend | Avril Lavigne

MY THIRD FAVOURITE SONG— JUST LIKE BEFORE THIS IS IN MY SOUL! I have actually spent a lot of time thinking about this. I could use this song to knock out a more skilled dancer— Tony, Sam (again), Pietro (you know I’m right)— but I have made the executive decision to pull Steve in on this one. Clearly it has nothing to do with skillful planning on this one— I would 110% win this game— but rather it has everything to do with the fact that I want to look this man in the eye and mouth “Hell yeah, I'm the motherfucking princess” and watch him get flustered and maybe tell me not to swear. Clint would laugh and that’s more than enough motivation for me. I also want to giggle and stare at the super soldier the entire time because I can hit the moves with my eyes closed and he would be flicking his eyes between the screen and me wondering how on EARTH I got so good at this. SO CUTE!

California Gurls | Katy Perry

THIS IS THE ONE THAT IS TIED WITH HOT N’ COLD FOR FIRST! I’m good good at this one. I grew up on Snoop Dogg and I fully believe that is why I am so good at this song. Anyway Pietro— without a doubt in my mind Pietro would kill this song (or in the very least try to kill it) and I’m not worried about losing because of the sheer amount of gameplay I have on this song alone. He would have the most fun with me and it would be the literal time of my life. Like I might actually lose this one just to see him get all happy and puppy-like about winning— LOL just kidding no I wouldn’t, sorry peanut better luck next time. You killed the hip wiggles though!

Forget You | CeeLo Green

Okay this one might not make any sense but Bucky. This is a hard-ish song but I think some of the moves really scream like old-timey and I think— if he could get rid of his pride for five seconds and let some of the fun-loving, silly Bucky out— that he would really enjoy this song. It’s fast paced but repetitive, the lyrics are fun, and I would be laughing enough for the both of us that he wouldn’t think about how dumb he looks because I’d be looking doubley stupid. Don’t let that fool you— I am a whiz at this song too. There’s a lot of jumping and spinning and jump spinning that entice that perfectionist side of me in a way that has driven me to perfect this song. This isn’t a heavily strategic move— it doesn’t need to be, he, again, hasn’t danced in years— but it is fun while allowing me to still win. NEXT!

Waterloo | ABBA

Okay two teams here, this is where it gets fun. This could go in a lot of directions. If Tony isn’t there then I would pull Nat— the gameplay is easy and she would pick it up within seconds. I would then pair up Steve and Thor because they’re both huge and clunky and would spend the entire time bumping into each other. Dirty but I’m doing it without regret. NOW— If Tony was there then we’re teaming up. I don’t trust him to not be on a team with me because he’s too competitive. I won’t risk it, not today, not ever— we’re eternal dance partners because I refuse to be bested by a man. Even a sexy, silver fox millionaire. The other team would be Sam and Bucky. They would fight the entire time. I can hear it now— “That was the wrong move, dumbass.” “You stepped on my foot, asshole.” — it’s a virtually flawless game plan. There’s a 1% chance they would team up to win against me but even then Bucky hasn’t danced since the 30’s. Foolproof.

Just Dance | Lady Gaga

I am AWFUL at this one but luckily it’s a group dance again. If I had to choose any song to take a break for— because I’ve literally just whooped Avenger butt at this point and deserve five minutes to sit down— it would be this one. This is 100% a strategic move. Love you miss Gaga but the choreography is WACK and I will not be losing. Anyway I will be nominating Tony, Pietro, and Sam— a dance battle of epic proportions and I honestly cannot tell you who I think would win. I can, however, speculate. Sam right off the bat would be a hard player to beat. I said it before and I will reiterate now— Sam Wilson has all the moves. But, that being said, Tony would not want to lose. Like at all. So I am pushed to believe that this fight would be a tough battle. Pietro I don’t think would try too hard to win but, then again, I just pitted him against Tony and, well, we all know how that goes. He has an ego too so honestly it could go in any direction. Pietro might be soft with me but against Sam and Tony— this fight might get dirty. Camera’s out people!

Gimme! Gimme! | ABBA

Thor. Like— there’s just no other person that I want to disco with. None. I want the blonde god up there next to me or nobody. Well, besides Steve because LOL yeah he’s not winning that sorry pumpkin we’ve already covered that. Thor I could simultaneously beat and laugh my ass off with. It’s a lot of tricky moves— ABBA didn’t come to play— and way too much variety for him to be able to catch on right away but he would also not care about looking like an idiot and might end up just picking me up and spinning me around because why not right? I would win and be happy.

Starships | Nicki Minaj

This is pure strategy— Tony. This is the only one I could beat him at because of the sheer amount of moves and plot twists in the choreography. There’s a lot of jumping, spinning, kicking movements and if you haven’t had two months to memorize it then you’ll be fucked. Even then it’s a long shot because— AGAIN THE EGO DRIVES THIS MAN TO HEIGHTS I HAVE YET TO SEE ANYWHERE ELSE— but it’s my best bet. If I could blindside him enough with the hip wiggling then it would be a sure win but he might see through the strategy. He’s smart— too smart. I would fight dirty— I don’t lose. Now, if Tony— again— was not present then I would pull my baby Wanda for this one because she would have so much fun and it would be 1000% worth it. Literally my ray of sunshine— let’s do fun girl things like dance to Nikci like the entire team isn’t watching. Clint and Sam would be singing along— that’s canon. Nat would be filming and cheering. The super soldiers, iron boy (assuming he’s sitting this one out), the fast one, and the gods would be slack jawed. It doesn’t get better

Maneater | Nelly Furtado

I can’t even explain how long I’ve had the plan for this one. Too long. Remember the sexiness I was talking about? Yeah— here’s where I’m gonna’ need it. This is ALSO one of my favourite songs on this playlist because of how sexy I feel dancing to it. The moves are *chefs kiss* so fucking amazing I could cry. I feel like a maneater when I dance to this and that is a blessed feeling. Anyway— I will be pulling two people for this song and those people are Clint and Nat. I think Clint— contrary to popular belief— is secure enough to have fun dancing to this and, also, not to mention the most important part— whoever wins gets to take me on a date. The big guns. Literally it’s a foolproof plan. First, I can’t lose because this choreography is hard as fuck for beginners and I have been practicing and perfecting it for months. Second, the fight between Nat and Clint would be so fucking entertaining. They’re skilled, agile, sleek assassins who would literally dance to Nelly Furado like their lives depended on it. I think what’s even funnier is that Nat is for sure the better dancer but I just know Clint is a) only a fraction less better than her and b) would be trying SO HARD to win. Like I wouldn’t put it past him to not play dirty. I am cute, after all. His 6’3” ass would be sweating trying to get my 5’2” ass on that date.

Good Feeling | Flo Rida

Clint, baby, knowing full well you could have possibly just lost the last round to Nat, I will give you one more chance— mainly because this whole song is a vibe and the choreography is so much fun and there’s a handful of moves that I both want to do in sync with you but also want to laugh watching as you flounder them. Clearly as a stealthy archer assassin I am testing my luck with this one but he just doesn’t know the in depth ins and outs of this choreo. He doesn’t know about the like seventeen hundred bridges that this song has and the robot moves in the middle. So I’ll wrack up those extra points where needed. Honestly if you only click one link make it this one— I can’t describe how fun this would be with him. Competitive but fun. I have faith in myself that I would come out on top. He’s agile but I’d risk it all for the title of champion. Still, he would fight hard— that’s why I love him though.

How Far I’ll Go | Auli’i Cravalho

This is my cool down song but there’s someone here who has managed to hide his way into not playing and that is unacceptable— Loki, babe, you’re doing my relaxing song with me because the gods only know how much you need a break. I’ll look dumb because— believe it or not— the slow song trips me up the most. But it’s fun and it’s the reason I don’t have a heart attack when my chubby ass is done all the fast songs— so it’s necessary. It’s also slow enough that he won’t look dumb and thus won’t literally kill me because he won’t be embarassed. I would willingly lose to Loki because I don’t want to lose my life. It isn’t a loss— it’s survival. That and I think he’d smile if he got a good score and that alone is worth losing to this one (1) man. I also want to add that I think Clint would secretly love this one because you can’t tell me that a man with an aim as good as him doesn’t meditate. He does and he would perhaps beat Loki at this one. Rest in peace to the love of my life when the trickster god literally tears his head from his body but sometimes you’ve got to take the L baby.

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