#lads I’m simply thinking about the twins tonight | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

helnjk · 3 years

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Bad Idea - F.W.

Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates 🤍 Wishing everyone a wonderful holiday season & new year 🧚🏼‍♀️

this is the first installment of my showtunes fic list, based on the song bad idea from the musical waitress !

Summary: fred weasley has the ability to get under her skin in a way no one else can. he also sends butterflies straight to her stomach like no one else can.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: enemies to lovers, slight cursing, steamy scenes but no outright smut

song lyrics are bolded & italicized

It’s a bad idea me and you

Y/N rolled her eyes as the Weasley twins made something or other explode at the Gryffindor table at breakfast. The awed cheers and whispers of her schoolmates at the colorful display of miniature fireworks did nothing to sway her opinion on the irritating duo. In fact, it might have even made her dislike for them grow.

It wasn’t as if she had no basis for hating the pair of them. They had been nothing but rude to her since their first year, and she was sure it was mostly due to her adorning the green and silver crest on her school robes. She had been at the receiving end of their nasty pranks more than she liked to admit, and some of them weren’t even a sliver funny.

As if he practiced legilimency, the older twin’s eyes moved from his showy display of spellwork to hers and sent a subtle wink in Y/N’s way.

“Like what you see, Y/L/N?” Fred yelled across the hall, causing the onlookers to turn their heads in her direction.

Angrily, she felt heat flood her cheeks, “Not at all Weasley. Just wondering how many points I could take away from Gryffindor today.”

She heard the members of her table snickering quietly at the sound of points lost for their least favorite house, but she paid them no mind. In all honesty, she knew that no amount of points taken away would sway the Weasley twins from their mischief making.

Later in the day while Y/N made her way from her last class to the library to catch up on some coursework, she heard the familiar snickers of the two boys she wanted to interact with the least.

“Oi! Watch where you’re going!” She yelled, annoyance bubbling in the pit of her stomach as the redheaded menaces rushed past her and nearly knocked her over.

“Going to take some more points from Gryffindor, Y/L/N?” Fred taunted over his shoulder as his brother let out a huff of laughter.

“Well, it’s not like she has any other important things taking up her time, don’t you think Freddie?” George said.

“You are absolutely right, George.” He replied.

“Honestly, don’t you two have anything better to do than get on my nerves all the time?” She gritted out.

The twins slowed their pace and Fred turned around casually to wink at her, “No can do, love.”

“Don’t call me love!”

Their raucous laughter echoed across the hall as she pushed past them in a huff. Stupid redheaded twins. Stupid Fred with his stupid teasing. Stupid George for laughing and egging him on.

Something about the way she determinedly called out over her shoulder made Fred pause.

Her eyes caught the fading light that streamed through the windows of the hallway, and shone brightly. Her skin seemed to glow in the amber light, reflecting the sun as it set in the horizon. The way she moved so confidently as she weaved through the sea of students made heads turn, and Fred was beginning to understand why their gaze gravitated towards her.

He had never noticed how pretty Y/N had gotten over the years. Another pause. Did he find her pretty?

Yeah, pretty annoying. He tried to reason with himself, but still he couldn’t shake this new feeling.

For the rest of the week, Fred had decided that if he couldn’t get her out of his mind, he would simply have to make sure he was on hers as well. Whenever the two of them walked past each other in the halls, he always had some sort of cheeky remark up his sleeve.

Subtly, he would get close enough for their shoulders to brush and would mutter under his breath, just enough for her to hear.

“Looking good today, Y/L/N, such a shame you’re a snake.”

“What’s a lad got to do to take a pretty prefect like you out on a date?”

“Cat’s got your tongue, Y/L/N? I know it’s ‘cause you think I look right fit, you don’t have to say anything.”

The more she ignored his comments, the more it seemed to spur him on. She would catch him sending her flirtatious winks during meals, feel his gaze on hers in their shared classes, or hear him whisper something or other to his twin while he glanced in her direction.

If it wasn’t something he said, he would manage to send practically every kind of prank her way. Tripping jinxes, jelly-legs jinxes, dung bombs in classrooms she was about to enter, puking pastilles or nosebleed nougats slipped into her drinks.

It was getting to a point that Y/N grew frustrated and angry all day. Her friends tended to avoid her when she got this way because she would just repeat the same things over and over again to anyone who would bother to listen.

Fred Weasley was a massive arse. Fred Weasley could jump in the lake and be used as food for the Giant Squid for all she cared. Fred Weasley this and Fred Weasley that.

They had even once asked her why it was specifically him that she complained about and not just the Weasley twins in general.

“Well, both of them do irritate me to no end,” She explained, “But there’s just something about Fred that irks the hell out of me. Merlin, does he know how to push my buttons!”

Y/N didn’t know what it was about Fred that got her going. It might have been because he was the instigator of most of the twins’ pranks, that he acted first and thought of the consequences later. It might have been that he would purposely send bludgers her way whenever Slytherin played Gryffindor and the many bruises that came from it.

It might have been the little flutters she would get whenever he whispered something cheeky into her ear. But that last one she had a hard time admitting to even herself.

By the end of the week, Y/N was at her wits end. Every time the bell rang and she gathered up her things, her hand would clutch her wand, ready to put up a small shield charm or send a hex in the direction of a certain redhead.

It being the weekend, many of her fellow classmates rushed out the door the moment they were dismissed from class. Y/N took her time packing her things back up, as her only plans for the night were to catch up on one of the novels she had had no time to read recently. As she exited the classroom, her eyes scanned the bare hallway for any sign of Fred. Her suspicions rose when she began her walk back to her common room and nothing out of the ordinary happened.

She soon stood corrected as a flash of red hair danced in her vision and she was suddenly pressed up against a wall.

With a gasp she said, “Weasley? What in Merlin’s name are you–”

“Can’t be quiet for a second, can you, Y/N?” Fred teased, his lips skimming the shell of her ear and sending shivers down her spine.

She gulped at the proximity of their bodies, her eyes darting around the empty hallway for any onlookers.

“Get on with whatever this is then,” She breathed, trying to keep her nonchalant act up, “I have other plans for tonight that I’d rather be doing.”

A slow chuckle escaped Fred’s lips, causing her heart to beat even more erratically than she thought possible, “So impatient love.”

“And I told you not to call me ‘love’.”

His eyes darted quickly to her lips and she could only hope that he couldn’t feel just how fast her heart was beating, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

He waited for her to give him any sign of discomfort or to say no, but she merely glanced at his lips and back up at his warm brown eyes. Then, as quickly as he had appeared in front of her, his head dipped and he captured her lips in his.

Y/N felt all the breath in her body leave as Fred pressed the searing kiss on her lips. He was intoxicating, his smell, the feel of his skin as she gripped onto his strong biceps, the way his breath mingled with hers.

When they broke apart, his eyes trailed the length of her body in a way that made goosebumps rise from her flesh. Y/N thought she must have looked like a fish out of water, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide.

“Just a taste of what could be.” He winked at her and then turned on his heel, “Think about it, Y/L/N.”

Far longer than she would like to admit, Y/N stayed rooted on the spot, staring in the direction that Fred Weasley had disappeared in and fingers running along the lips that he had claimed.

Heart keep racing Let’s make mistakes

The adrenaline pumping through Y/N’s veins gave her a feeling of weightlessness and grounding at the same time. Being Slytherin’s best beater came with the responsibility of carrying most of the game and she played her role well. Still, she always made it a point to play fair and to compensate for the shitty sportsmanship the rest of her team subscribed to.

When she had spotted a bludger to her right, making its way to where Malfoy was slowly circling, she set off. With a strong swing of her bat, she had it hurtling in the direction of one of the Gryffindor chasers. Neither of the Weasley twins was able to make it in time and the ball scraped the unassuming chaser’s shoulder.

With the boost of confidence this gave her, she proceeded to play one of the best matches of the season. A triumphant grin etched its way onto her face at the frustration leaking from the Weasley twins, who were trying to keep up with her and her co-beater’s synchronization.

Though, she had to admit that the way Fred’s arms flexed and his grunts of exertion every time he did manage to hit the bludger were a tad bit distracting too. The cheeky winks he sent her way weren’t helping either.

“Feeling a bit tired, Weasley?” She teased when he began to hover close to her, “Can’t keep up?”

“In your dreams, Y/L/N!” He all but growled and the fire in his eyes made her heart stutter for just a second before she set off in pursuit of another bludger.

The game had ended when Malfoy caught the snitch, a feat especially when Gryffindor had Potter, and Slytherin had won.

She couldn’t help but feel a smug sense of pride as she and the rest of the team walked out of the pitch, hearing the cheers of her house at the stands. She took her time in the changing rooms, trying to still her erratically beating heart. Her teammates slowly trickled out, reminding her of the celebrations that were definitely going to happen in the common room.

When she heard footsteps approaching the tent just as she had finished stuffing everything in her bag, she had just assumed that one of her teammates had forgotten something. She stood corrected.

“Quite a game today, wouldn’t you say?”

The familiar baritone voice made Y/N pause. Without turning to face him, she said in reply, “Definitely, Weasley. It’s always nice to kick your sorry arse out on the pitch.”

“Now, now Y/N,” He drawled, his voice inching closer to where she stood rooted on the spot. Her hand gripped at the strap of her bag as she tried to think of an escape route, “That’s definitely not the context I imagined you’d be talking about when you first mentioned my arse.”

She let out a scoff at his insinuation, but couldn’t shake the feeling that he could see right through her bluff. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as she realized that she was trapped in the quidditch changing rooms with the person who had been plaguing her thoughts.

The air surrounding the pair was thick with tension and charged with electricity. Countless days of teasing and rivalry, all the discreet glances and brushes of shoulders against each other, bottled up into a single moment, this moment. By the time Y/N had turned to face the cause of the palpitations in her chest, he was mere inches away.

His hot breath fanned her face and his deep brown eyes scanned over her. She could practically feel the heat of his body against hers, white hot and tempting. He knew exactly what he was doing to her.

“What do you want, Weasley?” She breathed, finally managing the courage to meet his eyes.

“You.” He said simply, tongue darting out to dampen his lips.

For a moment, it was as if they had both stopped breathing. Neither of them said a word or moved an inch, anticipating the other’s next move.

“Fuck it.”

Before Y/N could let out a word, his lips were on hers and his arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

All of the frustration and built up resentment between the pair of them came to play in the harshness of his kiss. It was not sweet nor soft, not what one would imagine a kiss between a prince and a princess to be. Rather, it was passionate, playful, and powerful. Two opposing forces clashing against each other, their convergence causing an eruption of flames.

Fred was not a shy person, and it was evident in the way he kissed her.

If she was the least bit surprised, he couldn’t tell, because as soon as his arms rested on the small of her back, she pressed her palms against his chest and leaned into him. For once, she let him take the lead and their mouths molded together in a passionate dance.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” She gasped as they broke apart for air, chests rising and falling rapidly.

“You think too much.” He responded, leaning down to capture her lips in his once more.

The way his lips deftly glazed over her neck and attached themselves to the point right below her ear made small sounds of pleasure escape her lips and her hips rutted against his.

These sounds only spurred him further as his arms slid down from her waist to the backs of her thighs, urging her to wrap them around him. She complied, and soon her back was against the wall as he continued the assault on her neck.

When the pair finally broke away, they took a moment to breathe, panting heavily. Y/N was the first to break the silence, laughing slightly at the compromising position they were in, and how they had just spent the last several minutes taking their frustrations out on each other.

“What’s so funny then,” Fred smiled as he slowly eased his grip on her thighs, lowering her back to the floor.

“Nothing,” She shook her head, surprised at how casual they treated the situation, “Just not what I’d expected to happen when Slytherin won today.”

“And what did you expect?” He quirked an eyebrow, “Especially when you were out there playing so well and looking that good.”

Y/N had to bite her lip to keep herself from grinning like an idiot, “Definitely not snogging you in the changing rooms, that’s for sure.”

“I know for a fact that you quite enjoyed what we did,” He whispered, pulling her close to him once more and closing the gap between them.

“In your dreams, Weasley.” She breathed.

And then his lips were on hers again. And again and again and again.

Over the course of the next few weeks, many noticed how the dynamics between the two shifted ever so slightly. There were still jeers and taunts in the halls, teasing comments made in classes or during meals, but there were also fewer eye rolls and less malice behind their words. It was almost as if they had an unspoken agreement.

The only one who had really caught on to what was really happening between the two of them was George, and it was only because he walked in on them on Fred’s bed in the dorms.

Y/N had been on top of Fred, straddling his midsection and pressing soft kisses all along his face and jaw, while he had his arms wrapped around her waist and held her tightly. Chest to chest, a soft hum verbrated from him as she continued her ministrations.

There wasn’t any sort of sexual tension at that moment, in fact, there hadn’t been an ounce of it the whole day. Laying like this with Fred made Y/N all sorts of confused, but she still enjoyed whatever the hell was happening between them.

It was cut short, though, as George had walked through the threshold of the dorm and saw their slightly compromised position.

“Bloody hell!” He exclaimed, and Y/N sprung up immediately, his twin’s arms falling limply at his sides at her sudden movement.

“Erm-” She mumbled, trying to move away, but Fred had none of it. If at all, his grip on her thighs tightened.

She could feel his body shaking from the laugh he was trying to hold in, and smacked him on the chest, “Fred! Stop that!”

“What?” He laughed, “It’s not like he saw anything, did you, Georgie?”

George, who was still trying to process what he had just witnessed, blinked a couple of times before shaking his head in disbelief, “Good Godric, so this is why you two have been acting so odd lately?”

“Well, it’s not as if we’re bloody dating,” Fred rolled his eyes, but Y/N felt her heart skip a beat, “We’re just having some fun s’all.”

She swallowed the lump that was suddenly in her throat and gave a feeble nod, “Yep. Just some fun.”

It was a pretty good bad idea Wasn’t it though?

Y/N didn’t know why she began avoiding Fred.

To everyone else in the school, all was well. The teasing between them hadn’t stopped. The little jabs at meals, in classes, or out in the hallways still happened. She was still a prefect and took points from Gryffindor whenever she caught the twins outside of curfew or running from Filch. They were both still beaters who played for their respective teams and shot remarks mockingly at one another out on the pitch.

Outside of those moments, though, Y/N made it a point to walk the other direction when she saw him walking her way, with or without his twin. She would slip out of shared classes as soon as the bell rang and their professor dismissed them. She even went as far as hiding in a spare broom closet once, when she was doing her prefect rounds and heard his telltale laughter just around the corner.

They hadn’t shared a moment alone in a few weeks and Fred had wracked his brain trying to figure out what he did wrong. Their set-up had been practically perfect before she started avoiding him. Stolen kisses and the excitement of sneaking around with her were some of the best times of his life there in Hogwarts. He hadn’t had the Gryffindor courage to tell her how he really felt, but at least they shared intimate moments alone, away from prying eyes and judgemental stares.

Instead, now he had taken to staring at her whenever he could, replaying all of their previous interactions to find out what went wrong between them.

“Oi, quit staring at Y/N before McGonagall takes points from us for not paying attention to her,” George hastily whispered one day.

“I’m not doing anything wrong,” Fred defended, his eyes still locked on Y/N. She paid him no mind, unconsciously twirling the quill in her hands and chewing on her bottom lip.

He thought she looked stunning.

“I never thought I would say this,” George groaned softly, “But you’ve gotta listen in class right now or else we’ll lose even more points and everyone’ll be right chuffed. We can figure out your dumb bird problems after.”

With a roll of his eyes, Fred finally brought his attention back to what their professor was going on about. He’d worry about whatever was going on with Y/N later.

“I think it’s simple, really,” George shrugged, later on in the day when it was just the two of them in their dorm. He leant back against the headboard of his four-poster, an image of calm and nonchalance.

“On with it then!” Fred exclaimed, the exact opposite of his twin at the moment. He fidgeted from his position on his own bed, his foot tapped anxiously on the hardwood floor and his hand kept running through his already disheveled hair.

George couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His own twin, all out of balance because of some bird.

But it wasn’t just any bird, he knew, it was Y/N. And if it had to be any bird in the whole school for Fred to become this mess of feelings and uncertainty, at least it was because of her. George always knew that their rivalry would either end in them realizing their feelings for each other or them hexing each other to death.

“Grow some balls and just tell her how you feel, you daft git!” He exclaimed, humor sparkled in his eyes.

“Be serious here, George,” Fred groaned and pushed his face against one of his pillows.

His twin rolled his eyes, “I am being serious! It’s obvious she fancies the balls off of you, so just ask her out on a date or something and save us all from this awkward dance the lot of you have been doing for the past few weeks.”

George’s words rang in Fred’s mind for longer than he liked to admit.

One night, as dinner was coming to a close, he’d had enough. He spotted Y/N getting up from her seat at the Slytherin table and stood abruptly from his half finished meal. As she exited the Great Hall, he followed her out and into the drafty corridor.

“Y/N!” He yelled before he could stop himself.

She paused briefly, shoulders tensing at his call to her. Instead of turning around though, she picked up her pace.

Fred cursed softly, “Y/N, I know you can hear me!”

As his legs were much longer than hers, he caught up to her quickly. Still, she paid him no mind and continued her on her way, “What’s got your wand all in a knot, Y/L/N?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Weasley.” Came her reply.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Y/L/N,” He rolled his eyes, “You’ve been ignoring me recently and I can’t think of anything that I’ve done wrong.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’ve been actually paying attention to my classes and doing all of my coursework, that takes up most of my time these days.” She shrugged, turning a corner and continuing her fast pace, “And I’m not at your beck and call, Weasley. I’m not yours.”

“You could be.”

Y/N’s resolve seemed to be taken away with the tide as he muttered those words aloud. In fact, she was so shocked at what he said that she quite literally had to stop walking and merely stared at the redheaded boy.

“Don’t be daft, Weasley.” She managed to choke out after a few beats.

He turned to face her and Y/N had never seen him look so serious before. Fred was usually the louder twin, the more explosive one, the one who acted first and thought of the consequences later. But now, now she could see that he had nothing but genuine intentions as his eyes scanned her and gauged her reaction.

She huffed, unwilling to let her walls down for even a second. It was too frightening, telling the person she had spent much of her formative years rivalling with how she truly felt about them. In fact, despite her act, she couldn’t get it in her to look him in the eyes.

“This, whatever this is, you know that it isn’t a good idea.” She tried to argue, but as the words left her lips they seemed to carry no weight in them.

“It’s a pretty good bad idea if you ask me.” He said with as much conviction as possible, “C’mon, Y/L/N, you gonna back down from a challenge?”

That sparked a fire in her eyes that he had missed seeing, one that said she meant business, “I’ll say yes to you on one condition,” She said.

“Anything.”

“Take me out on a date first.”

#weasleyclaw showtunes fics #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley fics #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #tw swearing #tw kissing

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shirbertshitposts · 3 years

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10 Shirbert Moments from Anne of Green Gables series I think about a lot

In honor of Valentines Day I thought I would post a list of some of my favorite Anne and Gilbert moments. It was hard to narrow it to just ten as I have been going through all nine books and trying to queue posts about all their iconic moments through the series; However I decided to pick the ones that I remember even when I haven’t read the books in a while. I didn’t have the heart to rank them properly so they’re just listed in chronological order.

1. His future must be worthy of its goddess

In the twilight Anne sauntered down to the Dryad’s Bubble and saw Gilbert Blythe coming down through the dusky Haunted Wood. She had a sudden realization that Gilbert was a schoolboy no longer. And how manly he looked—the tall, frank-faced fellow, with the clear, straightforward eyes and the broad shoulders. Anne thought Gilbert was a very handsome lad, even though he didn’t look at all like her ideal man. She and Diana had long ago decided what kind of a man they admired and their tastes seemed exactly similar. He must be very tall and distinguished looking, with melancholy, inscrutable eyes, and a melting, sympathetic voice. There was nothing either melancholy or inscrutable in Gilbert’s physiognomy, but of course that didn’t matter in friendship!

Gilbert stretched himself out on the ferns beside the Bubble and looked approvingly at Anne. If Gilbert had been asked to describe his ideal woman the description would have answered point for point to Anne, even to those seven tiny freckles whose obnoxious presence still continued to vex her soul. Gilbert was as yet little more than a boy; but a boy has his dreams as have others, and in Gilbert’s future there was always a girl with big, limpid gray eyes, and a face as fine and delicate as a flower. He had made up his mind, also, that his future must be worthy of its goddess. Even in quiet Avonlea there were temptations to be met and faced. White Sands youth were a rather “fast” set, and Gilbert was popular wherever he went. But he meant to keep himself worthy of Anne’s friendship and perhaps some distant day her love; and he watched over word and thought and deed as jealously as if her clear eyes were to pass in judgment on it. She held over him the unconscious influence that every girl, whose ideals are high and pure, wields over her friends; an influence which would endure as long as she was faithful to those ideals and which she would as certainly lose if she were ever false to them. In Gilbert’s eyes Anne’s greatest charm was the fact that she never stooped to the petty practices of so many of the Avonlea girls—the small jealousies, the little deceits and rivalries, the palpable bids for favor. Anne held herself apart from all this, not consciously or of design, but simply because anything of the sort was utterly foreign to her transparent, impulsive nature, crystal clear in its motives and aspirations.

-- Chapter XIX, Anne of Avonlea

2. For the first time her eyes faltered under Gilbert’s gaze

“What are you thinking of, Anne?” asked Gilbert, coming down the walk. He had left his horse and buggy out at the road.

“Of Miss Lavendar and Mr. Irving,” answered Anne dreamily. “Isn’t it beautiful to think how everything has turned out . . . how they have come together again after all the years of separation and misunderstanding?”

“Yes, it’s beautiful,” said Gilbert, looking steadily down into Anne’s uplifted face, “but wouldn’t it have been more beautiful still, Anne, if there had been NO separation or misunderstanding . . . if they had come hand in hand all the way through life, with no memories behind them but those which belonged to each other?”

For a moment Anne’s heart fluttered queerly and for the first time her eyes faltered under Gilbert’s gaze and a rosy flush stained the paleness of her face. It was as if a veil that had hung before her inner consciousness had been lifted, giving to her view a revelation of unsuspected feelings and realities. Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps . . . perhaps . . . love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath.

Then the veil dropped again; but the Anne who walked up the dark lane was not quite the same Anne who had driven gaily down it the evening before. The page of girlhood had been turned, as by an unseen finger, and the page of womanhood was before her with all its charm and mystery, its pain and gladness.

Gilbert wisely said nothing more; but in his silence he read the history of the next four years in the light of Anne’s remembered blush. Four years of earnest, happy work . . . and then the guerdon of a useful knowledge gained and a sweet heart won.

-- Chapter XXX, Anne of Avonlea

3. I just want YOU

“I have a dream,” he said slowly. “I persist in dreaming it, although it has often seemed to me that it could never come true. I dream of a home with a hearth-fire in it, a cat and dog, the footsteps of friends—and YOU!”

Anne wanted to speak but she could find no words. Happiness was breaking over her like a wave. It almost frightened her.

“I asked you a question over two years ago, Anne. If I ask it again today will you give me a different answer?”

Still Anne could not speak. But she lifted her eyes, shining with all the love-rapture of countless generations, and looked into his for a moment. He wanted no other answer.

They lingered in the old garden until twilight, sweet as dusk in Eden must have been, crept over it. There was so much to talk over and recall—things said and done and heard and thought and felt and misunderstood.

“I thought you loved Christine Stuart,” Anne told him, as reproachfully as if she had not given him every reason to suppose that she loved Roy Gardner.

Gilbert laughed boyishly.

“Christine was engaged to somebody in her home town. I knew it and she knew I knew it. When her brother graduated he told me his sister was coming to Kingsport the next winter to take music, and asked me if I would look after her a bit, as she knew no one and would be very lonely. So I did. And then I liked Christine for her own sake. She is one of the nicest girls I’ve ever known. I knew college gossip credited us with being in love with each other. I didn’t care. Nothing mattered much to me for a time there, after you told me you could never love me, Anne. There was nobody else—there never could be anybody else for me but you. I’ve loved you ever since that day you broke your slate over my head in school.”

“I don’t see how you could keep on loving me when I was such a little fool,” said Anne.

“Well, I tried to stop,” said Gilbert frankly, “not because I thought you what you call yourself, but because I felt sure there was no chance for me after Gardner came on the scene. But I couldn’t—and I can’t tell you, either, what it’s meant to me these two years to believe you were going to marry him, and be told every week by some busybody that your engagement was on the point of being announced. I believed it until one blessed day when I was sitting up after the fever. I got a letter from Phil Gordon—Phil Blake, rather—in which she told me there was really nothing between you and Roy, and advised me to ‘try again.’ Well, the doctor was amazed at my rapid recovery after that.”

Anne laughed—then shivered.

“I can never forget the night I thought you were dying, Gilbert. Oh, I knew—I KNEW then—and I thought it was too late.”

“But it wasn’t, sweetheart. Oh, Anne, this makes up for everything, doesn’t it? Let’s resolve to keep this day sacred to perfect beauty all our lives for the gift it has given us.”

“It’s the birthday of our happiness,” said Anne softly. “I’ve always loved this old garden of Hester Gray’s, and now it will be dearer than ever.”

“But I’ll have to ask you to wait a long time, Anne,” said Gilbert sadly. “It will be three years before I’ll finish my medical course. And even then there will be no diamond sunbursts and marble halls.”

Anne laughed.

“I don’t want sunbursts and marble halls. I just want YOU. You see I’m quite as shameless as Phil about it. Sunbursts and marble halls may be all very well, but there is more ‘scope for imagination’ without them. And as for the waiting, that doesn’t matter. We’ll just be happy, waiting and working for each other—and dreaming. Oh, dreams will be very sweet now.”

Gilbert drew her close to him and kissed her. Then they walked home together in the dusk, crowned king and queen in the bridal realm of love, along winding paths fringed with the sweetest flowers that ever bloomed, and over haunted meadows where winds of hope and memory blew.

-- Chapter XLI, Anne of the Island

4. Gilbert, I'm afraid I'm scandalously in love with you.

"Gilbert darling, don't let's ever be afraid of things. It's such dreadful slavery. Let's be daring and adventurous and expectant. Let's dance to meet life and all it can bring to us, even if it brings scads of trouble and typhoid and twins!"

Today has been a day dropped out of June into April. The snow is all gone and the fawn meadows and golden hills just sing of spring. I know I heard Pan piping in the little green hollow in my maple bush and my Storm King was bannered with the airiest of purple hazes. We've had a great deal of rain lately and I've loved sitting in my tower in the still, wet hours of the spring twilights. But tonight is a gusty, hurrying night . . . even the clouds racing over the sky are in a hurry and the moonlight that gushes out between them is in a hurry to flood the world.

"Suppose, Gilbert, we were walking hand in hand down one of the long roads in Avonlea tonight!"

Gilbert, I'm afraid I'm scandalously in love with you. You don't think it's irreverent, do you? But then, you're not a minister."

-- Chapter 9, Anne of Windy Poplars

5. Suitable Places

"(Are you sure you kiss me in suitable places, Gilbert? I'm afraid Mrs. Gibson would think the nape of the neck, for instance, most unsuitable.)”

-- Chapter 12, Anne of Windy Poplars

6. He narrowly escaped bursting with pride

"Anne, this is Captain Boyd. Captain Boyd, my wife."

It was the first time Gilbert had said "my wife" to anybody but Anne, and he narrowly escaped bursting with the pride of it. The old captain held out a sinewy hand to Anne; they smiled at each other and were friends from that moment. Kindred spirit flashed recognition to kindred spirit.

-- Chapter 6, Anne’s House of Dreams

7. Queen of my heart and life and home

"Gilbert, would you like my hair better if it were like Leslie's?" she asked wistfully.

"I wouldn't have your hair any color but just what it is for the world," said Gilbert, with one or two convincing accompaniments.

You wouldn't be ANNE if you had golden hair—or hair of any color but"—

"Red," said Anne, with gloomy satisfaction.

"Yes, red—to give warmth to that milk-white skin and those shining gray-green eyes of yours. Golden hair wouldn't suit you at all Queen Anne—MY Queen Anne—queen of my heart and life and home."

"Then you may admire Leslie's all you like," said Anne magnanimously.”

-Chapter 12, Anne’s House of Dreams

8. Annest of Annes

But the best of all was when Gilbert came to her, as she stood at her window, watching a fog creeping in from the sea, over the moonlit dunes and the harbour, right into the long narrow valley upon which Ingleside looked down and in which nestled the village of Glen St. Mary.

"To come back at the end of a hard day and find you! Are you happy, Annest of Annes?"

"Happy!" Anne bent to sniff a vaseful of apple blossoms Jem had set on her dressing-table. She felt surrounded and encompassed by love. "Gilbert dear, it's been lovely to be Anne of Green Gables again for a week, but it's a hundred times lovelier to come back and be Anne of Ingleside."

-- Chapter 3, Anne of Ingleside

9. I couldn’t live without you

Anne felt like a released bird . . . she was flying again. Gilbert's arms were around her . . . his eyes were looking into hers in the moonlight.

"You do love me, Gilbert? I'm not just a habit with you? You haven't said you loved me for so long."

"My dear, dear love! I didn't think you needed words to know that. I couldn't live without you. Always you give me strength. There's a verse somewhere in the Bible that is meant for you . . . 'She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.'"

Life which had seemed so grey and foolish a few moments before was golden and rose and splendidly rainbowed again. The diamond pendant slipped to the floor, unheeded for the moment. It was beautiful . . . but there were so many things lovelier . . . confidence and peace and delightful work . . . laughter and kindness . . . that old safe feeling of a sure love.

"Oh, if we could keep this moment for ever, Gilbert!"

"We're going to have some moments. It's time we had a second honeymoon. Anne, there's going to be a big medical congress in London next February. We're going to it . . . and after it we'll see a bit of the Old World. There's a holiday coming to us. We'll be nothing but lovers again . . . it will be just like being married over again. You haven't been like yourself for a long time. ("So he had noticed.") You're tired and overworked . . . you need a change. ("You too, dearest. I've been so horribly blind.") I'm not going to have it cast up to me that doctors' wives never get a pill. We'll come back rested and fresh, with our sense of humour completely restored. Well, try your pendant on and let's get to bed. I'm half dead for sleep . . . haven't had a decent night's sleep for weeks, what with twins and worry over Mrs. Garrow."

--Chapter 41, Anne of Ingleside

10. Old love light

DR. BLYTHE:- “The old, old love light that was kindled so many years ago in Avonlea ... and burns yet, Anne ... at least for me.”

ANNE:- “And for me, too. And will burn forever, Gilbert.”

-- Page 189, The Blythes Are Quoted

Feel free to respond to this post with any of your favorite shirbert moments that I missed!

#Shirbert #Anne Shirley #Gilbert Blythe #aogg #anne of avonlea #anne of the island #anne of windy poplars #anne of ingleside #anne's house of dreams #the blythes are quoted

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sopxhiea · 3 years

Text

Moirai

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Summary: After the niece finally comes around and visits Alfie, she realises she is in dangerous waters with the biggest shark in the water.

Warnings: Age gap.

The italic text is in a foreign language.

Part 1 | Part 2

“I’m only here to establish and alibi.”

It was doomed from the start.

One didn’t need to have a good eye for this kind of stuff to see that. It was plain as day, if things kept going the way they were, no one would make out if alive or well. Somewhere along the line, things had gotten faster than anyone could have guessed and there were consequences that were not easy to deal with.

But that didn’t matter to you.

You liked broken things. The small vase you kept to yourself after breaking it on your fifth birthday was the proof of that. Things that stood out and were weird seemed natural, like they were easy to interact with, almost. You liked crooked ends and abstract things from the start so you figured this growing interest in the jewish gangster was just another interest of yours.

Although this ‘interest’ could potentially kill you.

He was from one end of the world and you were from the other. It was dangerous to say the least. He was doing business with your uncle but that didn’t mean that your uncle was fond of the man, he was just a little scared with the late rising his people were having around London. There were no guards with you, although you were sure your uncle had someone follow you.

You shrugged the thought away while entering the warehouse. The weather was chilly but there was still sun out, hence the dress you were wearing. The small heels you were wearing clicked gently against the pavement, it was quite a lovely day which almost made you forget that you were walking into the lion’s den.

After the day in your uncle’s office, he was suspicious of something going on between you and the jewish gangster but you’d just told him that he was nice to talk to. That was partly the truth and the part that you left out was the fact that he had invited you to his office and you were probably going to end up on his bed tonight if he played his cards right.

Knocking on the front door once, you heard footsteps from the large twin doors but it took some time before you saw the young lad’s face. It was a surprised Ollie that greeted you. You recognised the lad and gave him a small smile but he already knew you’d be coming around. His boss had ordered everyone to tidy up the place for the lady who’d be visiting and Ollie knew better than to assume it was Miriam.

“May I come in?” you asked, your voice sweet and for a moment Ollie forgot who he was dealing with and nodded eagerly before he led you through a couple corridors.

The warehouse was seemingly busy, a ton of barrels and curious men with wide eyes worked around the space you walked through. There were many hidden rooms and gateways as far as you could tell but you knew Alfie’s infamous bakery was simply a coverup. Ollie stopped in front of a large door before a long sigh left his lips and he knocked on the hard wood.

“In!” came the words from the other side of the door, gruff and grumpy just like the Alfie you had met a couple moons ago.

You barely knew the man but you’d heard plenty on the streets. He was a murderer in the eyes of some: someone with too much blood on their hands whereas some worshipped him. He had a sense of authority in his side of the community which made sense given the power he held.

You were greeted with a busy man as he held his glasses around the bridge of his nose and tried to read the paper before him. He didn’t realise Ollie had someone behind him until he lifted his gaze to meet your shining orbs. His mouth opened for a second but he didn’t say anything and shook his hand to signal Ollie to leave and the lad was quick to do so.

“Nice place you got here.” you said, not waiting for any kind of invitation to sit on the chair in front of his desk. He eyed you as you took of your long coat and revealed an airy dress underneath.

“It took you long enough to see it, eh?” he spoke, amusement swimming in his orbs as he lifted his eyebrows and watched you take off your gloves. You kept eye contact until you were comfortable on the chair.

Your gaze lifted to the office then, it was what you’d expect. Dust was gathering around the shelves filled with papers and books. There were ink stains on some of the folders and the decoration was all made of wood for some reason. Meeting Alfie’s curious yet patient eyes, your gaze dropped on his rings before meeting his blue orbs again.

“Had to make sure you weren’t inviting me here to kill me...” you spoke and he chuckled which made you smile slyly. “..or something of the sort.”

You both knew that was on the cards. It didn’t matter that your uncle had a good business relationship with the men, he could easily start a long line of revenge killings and give your uncle something to do, just because he could.

“Now, why would I fuckin’ do that, eh?” he spoke but it wasn’t a question and he kept on talking. “Yer uncle won’t be giving me an easy time if I end up hurtin’ you, I fuckin’ imagine, yeah.” he said, chuckling at the end of the sentence as a form of agreeing with himself and you let the man be.

He was beating around the bush which was highly unusual. Alfie didn’t do that and it was easy to recognise why. He needed to get his point across quick and waste no time but now he was acting like he had all the time in the world.

“Why am I here, then?” you spoke and he watched your painted lips move. Such a small body could be so dangerous, he thought to himself while your eyes glistened. You could mess him up real good only if you wished for it and Alfie was keen on giving the choice to you.

You know why you’re there but it’s just as fun to wait for his answer.

Unlike the men you’ve been with so far, Alfie happens to be smart. You can tell he reads from the way he speaks so fast, even though most words are mumbled together. The gold on his rings is not only an indication of his wealth but of the history he has behind of the oppression. You recognise the little traits he has, because you have similar ones.

That’s not to say you’re similar to him, if anything you’re a wolf and he’s the lion hunting you down. You’re no sheep, Alfie knows that which is why he’s intrigued. His eyes scan your amused ones before he clears his throat and speaks. You’ll look lovely panting underneath him, he concludes.

“I should ask you the same fuckin’ question, seein’ as it’s my work place you barged in.” he says in one breath but you catch and hold onto each word. This man has things he doesn’t tell anyone and they bother him, you can tell.

You give him a smile but it’s unlike any you’ve given. This smile matches your age and your story, it’s you he sees. “I’m only here to establish and alibi.”

He laughs then. You both know he can kill you right here without anyone knowing for the next hour or so and he would get into trouble for it but that’s not the point, the point is that he could. The man is almost thrice your size and you see the large hands that hold his golden rings intact, he can snap your neck in two if he wants.

But he won’t. Not just yet.

“What about yer uncle’s men, hm?” he asks, hand tugging at his beard as he eyes you. He knows you’re no here to play games.

That’s not correct.

You’re here to play one specific game and that is only if Alfie manages to play his cards to his advantage.

“They think I’m in my friend’s flat around Cambridge.” you speak, as serious as you can be and he doesn’t chuckle in disbelief like he usually would. He believes that, and that works out for you precisely because it is the truth.

“You ain’t here for a cup of tea, lass.” he says, it’s his way of saying that you’re swimming with the big shark and that the waters are very deep and unpredictable.

So what?

“Oh good! I needed you to remind me what I was here for.” you speak, sarcasm evident on your face and Alfie considers pulling a gun on you but he’s hesitant.

Lust and frustration, not a good combination.

He chuckles as your expression. You don’t seem to be clueless but he doesn’t quite know how to go about things as he watches you. You seem fragile yet there’s the slyness of a fox in your eyes.

“Lass.” it’s almost as if he’s hissing but it’s just a low grunt. You just smile.

“Yes?” you speak with a low smile and you know he’s straining himself from doing certain things. You can see the white on his knuckles.

“You ain’t going’ to play safe, eh?” he spoke with a low smile. He wasn’t keen on playing very safe either but having you do it was much more fun.

You just shook your head.

Alfie gathered, you were either too smart for your own good or downright reckless. You watched as he licked his lips, he’d look much better without the beard you thought but the look suited the jewish gangster he was known to be.

“Would you rather have me play safe?” you spoke but before he could answer, you were already continuing your previous questioning. “I don’t think that’s very fun.” you scrunched your face at the last word and smiled afterwards.

Alfie was going to have you whimpering beneath him tonight, he told himself.

“You’re forgettin’ who you are, yeah....” he swallowed but it was not a nervous one. He had been sending you signals to stop if you’d wished to but you were going with full force. “..who your fuckin’ uncle is.”

But you knew who your uncle is, you knew it damn well.

You clicked your tongue first and shook your head second. This man was showing to be even more promising that you’ve thought and it only amused you further. “I don’t forget those things, believe me...”

And you didn’t. It was a dangerous world you lived in, even more so when your uncle was a known gangster. You didn’t loathe in it but it was a mere fact you had to deal with. The two guards you had with you at all times, the threatening looks you were given and the gun you carried in all your purses were the proof of that. There was no helping it.

You chuckled one last time, a childish yet devious smile on your lips while you locked eyes with the man. You didn’t have time to waste and as fun as it was, you didn’t want to spend any more time looking at his face when you knew, for a fact, that he could put his skilled hands into good use.

“Listen, Mr. Solomons...” you spoke with a low smile as his eyes bore into yours. “As much as I love our little banter here, I have about fifteen minutes before the guards start looking for me.” you uncrossed and crossed your legs as he watched, hypnotised.

“Now, would you like to spend that time talking or....” you bit your lip and spoke again, he was doomed from the way he was looking at you.“..doing something more productive?”

--------

“That’s nonsense, uncle.” you sighed, looking around for someone else to speak as your uncle flooded you with questions of his own.

After your little outing escape the other day, the guards did end up looking around for you for a bit. You managed to make it but it had taken you about twenty minutes before they found you and in your uncle’s time, that meant that something had happened.

And something had happened.

Alfie was a good kisser, you gathered. He hadn’t wasted any more time after your question, there was no need to do that anyway. You had gotten a little carried away, to say the least. You had gotten back with flushed cheeks and unevenly buttoned dress when the guards were looking for you but it seemed as though Alfie hadn’t gotten enough.

You hadn’t slept with him yet but he had certainly acquired the taste of you.

“I was strolling around after leaving Sam’s place. I just got lost for a bit, is all.” you said once more to make sure he came around, and he always did.

“You’re sure, dear?” he asked, but that just meant that he already did believe you. He just wanted to make sure that you were on board.

“Yes. I am. It was a mishap and I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” you said sweetly while kissing his cheek and gaining a natural smile from the old man’s lips.

“Alright, then...very well.” he said, voice a little low but you knew the man like the back of your hand and from the way he sat down, you knew he wanted to say something before you left his office. “We’ll be having a gathering, a dinner of sorts...” he spoke, hand gesturing around the air as you looked at his sitting form on the chair.

This was usual. Your uncle was well-liked in the high society around London and he had business dinners with a lot of people. If the invited guests that were business partners, that just meant that your uncle was looking to form an alliance, a strong one at that. It had happened with the greeks and if it meant that a business associate was invited into his own house, it usually meant that your uncle trusted them and wanted to expand certain things in the future.

You knew the drill.

You’d dress nicely and smile to the guests while they made some stupid joke about how young you were and just how fit you’d be for a wife. You’d smile and say you were studying, that usually got them off the hook. You’d be nice and calm with your nice dress and wave appropriately until they went off and you could ride your horse in the dark.

“A new alliance?” you said, voice soft as he looked at you with amused eyes. He had done some very good deals in the last couple of months and it was all because of this one man he had the true pleasure of doing business with.

“Hm, yes.” he spoke, nodding while he went through some papers. You just stood around, waiting for him to speak but he was slow today.

“Who’s the lucky gangster?” you spoke, a smile on your lips as the amusement reached your eyes. He chuckled at your pure silliness before he spoke. You were to behave nicely when the guest arrived and you both knew that.

“The jew.” he said, smiling fondly at you before you forced a smile.

There was only one jew your uncle knew.

---------

Tagging: @clairecrive @parkbearum @sourirez @vetseras @mollybegger-blog @babylooneytoonz @peakascum

a/n: This is a tad bit late but I have so much to take care of for school i’m going insane. Anyway, i really hope you like it and lemme know what you thought please!! <3

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loving-daisy · 3 years

Text

Cry For Me | George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist | Cry For Me Masterlist

Chapter 3 - Break Your Heart In The End

Words: 7.8k

Warnings: Small spaces, Bullying, name calling, underage drinking, truth of dare, jealousy, scheming

--------------------

Stay by your side and break you heart in the end.

____________________

“Icestone, about last weekend…” George began as sat beside his potions partner from the Slytherin house, the ginger fidgeting his fingers as he attempted to recall last night’s rehearsal of the speech of apology he constructed with his brother.

“I’m sorry about how me and Fred acted. We knew none of it was your fault, you weren’t even a part of the quidditch team! We just thought that since you’re the Slytherin queen you would…” The Gryffindor sighed, his eyes giving Icestone a sincere look of guilt. “I’m so sorry, Icestone. Let me make up to you.”

The girl beside the ginger snapped her head up at him, turning her attention away from her half empty parchment as she raised a brow towards the Gryffindor. For a minute or so, the atmosphere between the two students from rivaling houses was quiet. Unlikely for a Gryffindor, George lost his confidence of gaining the forgiveness of the Slytherin, thinking that she had enough of him and Fred’s continuous distrust towards her. I mean, it’s not like they trust her. They really don’t. That’s why a plan was generated from the minds of the ginger pair. Take the queen down is what they said. And that’s what they’re planning to do.

Meanwhile, the Slytherin had a few battles on her own. Mainly with her head. Do I accept his apology as simple as that or should I make him put an effort to earn my forgiveness? In all honesty, her head was telling her to do the latter but her heart was saying to do the first option. Should she listen to her heart or should she listen to her head? But then she thought that everyone deserves a second chance and from the look the Gryffindor has been giving her, she couldn’t resist but to simply say “Apology accepted.”

As if the Weasley boy saw a ghost, he looked up from his fingers, eyes wide as his mind and face was enveloped with disbelief. “Wait, really?”

Y/N plastered a small smile on her face before turning her attention back to her parchment. Shrugging as she directed a small nod.

The disbelief from George’s expression did not falter. Placing a hand on top of the girl’s parchment to gain the attention back on him. “No kneeling, no crying, no cleaning your shoes?”

Y/N scrunched her nose from the statement. “Excuse me, what?”

George gave her a shrug. “Don’t you do that when someone does you wrong?”

The Slytherin dropped the quill she was holding, crossing her arms and fully facing the ginger with an amused look on her face. “Is that how people these days pertain to me? Brainwashing the system now, huh?” Y/N scoffed. “Don’t let them get into your head, George. I’m nothing like that.”

George Weasley, was once again, in disbelief of the Slytherin’s personality. Just a few weeks ago he and his twin were turned into cats for accidentally pranking the girl and then suddenly she’s been following them everywhere and has been endlessly flirting with him. And then she bullies some 1st years, gets lashed out but accepts their apology anyways. Now, they got even more furious at her for assuming that she was behind Slytherin’s foul play but she accepts George’s apology like he didn’t do her wrong at all. She could have turned me into a cat again George thought.

George flopped his elbow on their shared desk, his chin letting it rest on a hand as he stared at the girl with a knowing smirk on his face. “You know what, Icestone? You’re not so evil like people describe you to be.”

Y/N dropped her arms, mirroring George’s actions as she rested her chin on her palm, rivaling the Gryffindor’s smirk with her own astonishing one. “Well that’s because I’m much worse.”

____________________

“Ms. Icestone.” A tall man with long platinum blonde hair muttered as his eyes as blue as the winter sky pierced at the next heir of the Icestone wealth. Y/N turned her attention away from her thoughts, feigning a small smile before doing a small curtsy as a sign of respect.

“Mr. Malfoy. Lovely to see you here.” She greeted politely, hopeful for the man to not say another word and just leave and ignore her like what he does with the other students he encounters. However that would be less-likely, seeing as the man greeted the girl, a thing he does not usually do.

“Likewise.” Lucius answered, nodding as he examined the girl from head to toe. “Say, how have you been?” He inquired, which resulted in the girl to raise suspicion as to why senior Malfoy was suddenly curious about her well-being.

Of course, with the Icestones being a wealthy pureblood family that has been present since the ancient times, respect is greatly handed down to them. Not to mention how the family runs a consistent bloodline of successful wizards and witches from the house of Slytherin, one would kill to be a part of it - whether letting their daughter marry an Icestone offspring or ordering their sons to sweep the feet of the current Icestone princess for their family to get involved.

The Icestone family runs as early as Dionysus Icestone, one of Salazar Slytherin’s outstanding students. Married to Coraline Velvet, who bore Athena and Anthony Icestone, one of the most well-known healers in the wizarding world with their invention and contribution to the field. Generation to generation, wizards and witches coming from the name Icestone has been nothing but utterly successful. Not only in the field of healing, but in the ministry as well. Edward Icestone, one of the appointed ministers, the first ever Icestone to be so and definitely not the last, who governed for more than 8 years, maintaining peace and order in the magical world. A few more years later, John Icestone was conceived by the love of Alice and Cyrus Icestone, who then was married to Aurelia Phoenix, Y/N’s mother.

There must be something going on. She mentally scoffed at the thought. At least other families don’t make it so obvious, I’m just not stupid enough to not notice.

“Aurelia, I am beyond delighted that you and your family could make it today.” A woman who looked like she was in her 30s, greeted. The woman was wearing an all-black outfit, covered in finest silver jewelries, as she gave Y/N’s mother a small hug. Breaking away, she turned to Y/N’s father, shaking his hand as she muttered his name with a smile.

Retrieving her hand, the woman looked down at the young Icestone girl, giving her the biggest smile as she offered a small flower, in which Y/N gladly took. “And you dear, must be the lovely Y/N Icestone. Ecstatic to finally meet you.” She said.

Y/N feigned a mirror of the woman’s smile. “It’s so nice to meet you. Thank you for inviting us to your lovely home. Congratulations on your birthday.” She remarked, obtaining words from gratitude from the woman before turning her attention back to her mother.

“Aurelia, you raised your daughter so nicely. She’s beautiful.” The woman complimented. Suddenly, a young lad who resembled the appearance of the woman showed up, announcing his presence to who seemed to be his mother through a kiss on the cheek.

“Great! You’re here!” The woman exclaimed. Directing her attention back to the young Icestone, she grabbed the boy’s hand on her right one and gently reached for Y/N’s using her left. “I would like you to meet the lovely Y/N Icestone.” she spoke, bringing their hands to rest at each other.

The boy gladly held the young Icestone’s hand, raising it to his lips to give a small kiss. “It is an honor to be in your presence tonight, Ms. Icestone.” He declared, causing Y/N to mentally roll her eyes with the formality and with the act. Reluctantly retrieving her hand, she spoke with feigned kindness. “Please. Call me Y/N.”

Uninterested with their building conversation, she eyed father, who was giving the boy a stern look. Meeting his eyes, she immediately caught onto what her father was thinking.

Another one. Another one trying to slide their way up the family tree. The young Icestone thought.

“Y/N.” The boy pronounced. “Lovely name for a lovely girl.” He continued.

Great. Another one of those overused lines. Where is the originality? Y/N thought.

Throughout her encounter with the boy, the noise in her head was loud with her ranting and complaints. She was tired of being attempted to be used like this. She has had enough of these families' constant effort to pursue her for other intentions.

“My name is Ethan. Say, would you be delighted to be offered some cake tonight? It is my mother’s birthday after all. We have chocolate cake. I heard you a-”

“No thanks.” She answered, giving a charming smile like she always does that would hurt her suitor’s ego.

It was basically normal for her to encounter elite pureblood families that try to get on her good side but it was not normal for the Malfoys to join her list. Throughout her life, not once did the Malfoys befriend the Icestones. Mainly because John and Lucius were best friends turned rivals, even if they were sorted into the same house during their Hogwarts years.

Clasping her hands in front of her, she eyed the tall man, trying to read his body language to know his real intentions. Not that it worked though, Lucius Malfoy was just standing there like an old creepy statue.

“Splendid, sir. Are you here to see Draco?” She answered, deciding to ask another question in hopes to see some sort of emotion. “No. I’m here to see Severus.” He muttered.

“Oh…” Y/N trailed off. A few moments into the awkwardness of the silence, the young Slytherin decided to bid her farewell. ”Take care then, sir.”

Giving one last glance, the blue-eyed man nodded, tightening his grip “Likewise Ms. Icestone. I’ll see you soon.”

“Soon?”

____________________

The same evening, the Slytherin found herself situated inside the Great hall with Daphne Greengrass surprisingly seated across the table, joining her for supper. Prior to digging on the plate her fairy prepared for her, she chirped a short teasing towards her friend as to how it's been so long since Daphne sat with her that she thought that her best friend forgot what a proper meal is for snogging the same boy every night at the same hour. “Got tired of tasting the boy’s lips after a few days?” She snickered, earning a piece of bread to be sent flying towards her face.

Traveling her eyes passed her best friend’s figure, she slowly examined the Gryffindor table, seeking for a certain tall ginger amidst the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff table blocking her full view. Finally spotting two fiery redheads beside each other, she narrowed her eyes as she examined their faces, slightly being challenged to determine which is which because of the distance. Directing her eyes from the Weasley on the left to the Weasley on the right, she met eyes with the ginger who then gave her a wink with a knowing smirk on his face.

Getting flustered at the interaction, on impulse, she gave the boy her signature ice-cold glare before reluctantly grabbing her goblet to quench the sudden drying of her throat as heat creeped into her frame.

Daphne examined her friend, her eyes narrowing as she watched the interaction unfold. Sighing, she dropped her bitten muffin, drank on her goblet and set it down before resting her elbows at the Slytherin table, her hands clasping one another. “What now, Y/N?” She bursts out.

Y/N pried her eyes away from her plate, turning her attention towards her best friend, confusion enveloping her features by the sudden question. “What do you mean?”

Daphne sighed, her chin leaning against her clasped hands as she was dying to know what her true best friend’s intentions towards the Gryffindor were. “You’re acting really weird these days.” She began. “It’s getting really suspicious. You told me that you’re just gonna play with the weasel’s heart but it seems like you’re the one being played!” She exclaimed, earning a small “huh?” and a confused look from Icestone.

“I heard about your quarrel at the halls!” The black-haired girl retorted.

“Oh.” Icestone answered casually with her realization. Shrugging, she continued to divulge in the feast prepared for her, muttering a short “Which one?” before taking a sip of her pumpkin soup.

“Both of them! The one with the little Hufflepuffs and the one after that quidditch game. Especially the one after that quidditch game! That was crazy! How dare they accuse you of being the reason for their loss? Blimey! I would punch them if I could.” Daphne indirectly threatened, causing Y/N to giggle at her overprotective best friend. “Calm down, Daphne.” She encouraged.

Daphne Greengrass was irritated at the thought of the Weasley twins crossing Y/N. She knew how that isn’t how Y/N is to be treated. Although her best friend built an ice-cold hard stone aura around her, she knew that all of those were just an act to protect herself. Past the icy stares, she knew Y/N Icestone’s heart was soft and fragile that should be handled with the utmost and proper care.

“But they did you wrong!” She blurted out. “Remember when you told me about those little Slytherin blabber mouths that crossed you? You tortured them at the great hall the day after!”

“Torture?! I did no such thing! I just warned them! Unless you think that asking for Weasley’s information was torture, then fine!” Daphne groaned at the response, earning a small chuckle from Y/N. She really wasn’t taking this conversation seriously.

“You know, for someone who’s younger, you do nag me a lot.” Y/N piped, earning a small glare from Daphne.

“I’m only a year younger than you, Icestone. Besides, we’re literally in the same school year! I don’t know why you suddenly care about age. You’re 15, I’m 14, we’re in 5th year, and most of the students in our class are 16 but so what?” She sassed, earning laughter from the Slytherin queen. This resulted in the students around them turning their attention towards the sound. It’s not everyday you hear Y/N Icestone laugh. This was a rare occasion! For once, she was actually in a good mood and she projected it, which was favorable to the Slytherins because they knew they wouldn’t get lashed out anytime sooner.

Once Icestone’s laughter died down, Daphne did not hesitate to fire another question. “But why? Why do you still act so nice towards those Gryffindors when they have crossed you for like….too many times?” She asked, earning a knowing smirk from Y/N.

“Daphne, you can’t have a plan if you don’t know how to execute it despite the challenges you may face.”

____________________

Two uneventful days later, as Y/N made her way towards her Charms class with Professor Flitwick, her arm was hastily grabbed as she was forced to mirror her kidnapper’s running pace.

Finally being enabled to process what was happening after the heart-dropping shock, she found herself in an alcove, face to face with no other than George Weasley, who looked and smelled like someone who survived a small explosion.

“What did you do?!” Y/N inquired, George immediately shushing her by covering her mouth. The boy had his eyes fixated on the entrance of their hiding place, a plan generating in his ginger head in case their cover was blown. Meanwhile, the Slytherin was glaring at the boy for bringing her into their mess.

After the passing of a few minutes, George finally retrieved his hand, facing the girl as he offered a sweet smile.

“How exactly did you know about this place? This is like...one the hidden spaces in the castle.” Y/N questioned, amused by the small secluded place.

“Me and Fred know every hidden space in the castle, Icestone. We know every single corner, every single room, and every single shortcut!” George answered. Y/N nodded, however still not satisfied with the reply. “Yeah, but how?”

“Well, that’s for me to know and for you to find out, Icestone.”

“That’s why I’m asking you, Weasley. To find out!”

“Touché.”

Y/N suddenly remembered that she was supposed to be in her class a few many minutes ago. Growling before facing George with raised brows, she questioned. “So are you gonna explain why I got dragged to this?”

George gave her a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his neck to think of a reason. “Because I want you here with me?”

“George Weasley-”

“Fine! Fine! You were blocking my way and I figured that if I was stalled by your presence, Filch would have caught me!” He deducted, causing the Slytherin to look at him in disbelief as she crossed her arms around her chest.

“Then you should have avoided me then. I have a class in like...10 minutes!” She exclaimed. “I couldn’t avoid you. You’re Y/N Icestone! You would have turned me into ice!” George reasoned.

Y/N rolled her eyes at the response. “Haha, very funny, Weasley. I don’t have superpowers that could turn you into ice.”

“Correct, but you have a wand that could turn me into one, ice queen.” George sneered, shooting a teasing wink towards the girl.

“Stop calling me that.” Y/N bellowed, unamused. “Why not?”

“Just....stop.”

“Fine. I’ll call you sweetheart then.” He mused, causing Y/N to drop her hands in defeat and sighing. Eyeing the entrance to the alcove, Y/N gave the boy another glance before declaring her leave. “I’m gonna leave now…”

“Aww! You don’t want to stay with me any longer?”

Y/N grumbled, her hand massaging her temple as she thought about the boy keeping her longer away from her class. “Why would I even? I’m already running late for class because of you!” She exclaimed.

“Alright, alright!” George confided, Y/N finally letting herself turn away and exit the small space.

“See you this weekend?” The boy suggested, unsure if the girl heard him.

____________________

The next weekend, Y/N Icestone found herself being dragged by a certain female redhead towards the hospital wing. The Slytherin was confused. The hospital wing is not the place she wouldn’t want to be after the quidditch match. It was always full of injured players and their loud and obnoxious friends. Loud and obnoxious. Some of the things she really despised.

The week’s quidditch match consisted of Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw to which Gryffindor succeeded in getting their victory. It was no match actually. Everyone knew that the team of lions would win anyway. They were the most promising team in the school afterall.

Unfortunately, George was accidentally shoved off his broom by Fred as he dodged a bludger, which is why Y/N found him laid on one of the beds in the hospital wing, his eyes closed as a cast on his head and some bruises in his arms are visually seen. Right beside him was his twin and another familiar redhead who Icestone is yet to formally meet.

The older Weasley twin caught the emotionless eyes of the Slytherin, his thoughts slightly clouded with disbelief and amusement as to how his sister managed to convince Y/N Icestone into dragging her here. “Surprised to see you here.” He stated nonchalantly, earning a small shrug of the girl.

“Well, Ginny here told me that she was about to show me something really urgent. I didn’t expect it to be this.” The Slytherin explained. “What happened to him?” She asked, pointing her finger to the direction of the younger Weasley twin.

“He went out of balance.” The older twin answered briefly, pushing to shrug off the question to satisfy his curiosity. “I didn’t know you and Ginny were close.”

Y/N shrugged. “I guess you can say that me and Ginny are friends.”

“This boy went out of balance?” She questioned, scoffing as she stared at the unconscious boy. “I thought he was the great George Weasley who is the master of Quidditch? Bragger.”

“Actually…” The boy who Y/N knew was another Weasley boy that was friends with the famous Harry Potter spoke, turning his attention away from the snack that he was divulging and meeting eyes with the Slytherin. “Fred accidentally shoved him off his broom during the quidditch match earlier.” He informed.

Y/N put her hands on her waist like a nagging mother who scolded her child for being mean to his siblings. “Oh…so it was Fred’s fault.”

“Hey! I don’t even know why you’re asking me what happened with him when you should have known! You weren’t at the stands earlier!” Fred pointed out, crossing his sweaty arms around his chest.

“Yeah and that’s because Slytherin had no match!”

“But Gryffindor does! And me and George are there!” Fred exclaimed, causing Y/N to raise a brow and cross her hands on her chest. She really didn’t like it when someone raised a voice on her but it was technically her who started it and seeing George lying unconscious on the bed worried her, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Inside, she wasn’t really feeling herself. Outside, she tried to mask it. She wasn’t really keen on picking another fight with Fred today. Not to mention how the boy hasn't even apologized to her yet.

“So?” Icestone questioned.

Fred placed his hands on this chest, feigning hurt as his face portrayed a look of hurt and offense. “Ouch. Show some support, Icestone. I thought we were friends?”

“Icestone? Y/N Icestone? Like THE Y/N Icestone from Slytherin?” The younger Weasley boy spoke again, the second sentence he has ever given since the Slytherin arrived at the hospital wing. This caused Y/N to turn her attention towards the younger redhead, the thoughts of cursing the older Weasley twin slipping out of her mind.

“Uh...yeah.” Y/N answered awkwardly. She examined the boy from head to toe. “And you are?”

“That’s Ronnikins. Our brother.” Fred cut in, earning a glare from the Slytherin for speaking when not consented and another glare from the young Weasley boy for bringing up the twin’s made-up nickname for him.

The 3rd year Gryffindor turned his attention back to the girl, opening his mouth to speak. “I’m-”

Once again, the boy was interrupted but this time, by an entering pair of students who was known to be ⅔ of the Golden trio. “Ron! There you are! What happened with George?” The curly-haired girl asked, eyes full of concern.

The redhead sighed. “Ron. My name is Ron.” He said, making the Gryffindor girl turn her attention towards the Slytherin. “Oh, hi. My name is Hermione. This is Harry.” She introduced, earning a small nod from the 5th year. “Y/N Ice-“

“Icestone?” A hoarse voice called, making all 6 people who were surrounding the bed turn their attention towards the boy laying there.

“Georgie!” Fred called. “You’re alive!”

“Congrats.” The youngest Weasley muttered, gently holding her brother’s bandaged left hand.

“Wow...you wake up and the first person you call among us six is Y/N.” Ron stated, shaking his head as he made his way back to his chair, grabbing another snack from his pocket. This earned him a laugh from Harry and a smack on the head by Hermione.

“Quiet down, Ron! You’re not as special to George as you think you are.” Fred teased. “You’re not so special either, Fred. He called Y/N even before you!” Ginny clapped back, bringing realization upon the tall ginger.

Once again, Fred placed his hands on his chest, feigning hurt. “Wait, that’s right! How dare you, George! I thought I was your best friend.”

“Can you guys leave us for a moment?” The lying Weasley requested, earning a grunt from his twin who in the end, was pulled by Ginny to leave with the others.

Y/N made her way towards George’s side, extending her arms as she gently caressed the boy’s bandaged head. “What did you need me for, George?” She whispered softly.

“I just…” George began, looking directly into Y/N’s eyes. “...wanted to see your face as soon as I regained consciousness.”

The brave Gryffindor’s cheesy remark caused Y/N to snort, partially not believing what just came out of George’s mouth. “You get shoved by Fred and fall off your broom, get brought up in the hospital wing but the first thing you wanted was to see me?”

“...yeah. To heal myself.” He reasoned, causing confusion to flood Y/N’s mind. “What do you mean?”

“Seeing your face makes me a lot better.” George recited.

Y/N looked away, muttering a stern “Shut up.”

“But it's true!” The ginger convinced. “Besides, I didn’t see you on the stands earlier. I was expecting you’d watch our game against the Ravenclaw.”

The girl raised her brows in return, crossing her arms and interrogating the boy. “And why in Salazar Slytherin would you look for me?”

George smirked. “For good luck.”

____________________

“Hey look! It’s the ice queen!” A group of Gryffindors teased as Icestone passed by them. She gave them a glance, shooting icy daggers but the group just mocked her even more. “Ooh I’m so scared.” One said teasingly.

Suddenly, a group of Slytherins made their way towards the teasing Gryffindors, staring them down, their actions being fueled with hate and disgust as they dared hurt Y/N Icestone. “Leave Icestone alone you git!” One threatened.

“Or what? Is she gonna turn me into ice?”

“If you don’t stop, I’ll be the one who’ll do so. I-”

“Icestone!” George beamed as he called, him and his twin suddenly bumping into the Slytherin as they turned to the next corner. Expecting a reply, George was disappointed to only get a small glance and a shove on the shoulder.

____________________

The boys’ dormitory was enveloped in light snores coming from young individuals who conquered another day and are trying to recharge their empty batteries. It was dark, but not pitch black as the bright moon that illuminated the dark sky, shined beyond their window.

George laid on his bed as he stared into his room’s ceiling, failing to fall into a deep slumber no matter how he stretches his feet, no matter how he closes his eyes. He was completely wide awake on a Thursday night. The Weasley boy has had his own episodes of insomnia. This was not new to him and it frustrated him because no matter how tired he is, he couldn’t bring his mind to shut down.

Looking at his side to see a sleeping Fred, he eliminated his warm blanket, got out of bed, and quietly picked up his wand. He tiptoed towards the door, his steps gentle to not wake anyone up and get caught. He made his way outside the Gryffindor common, illuminating his wand as he roamed around the halls of the wizarding school.

Somehow, George found himself climbing up the steps of the astronomy tower, suddenly wanting to find a secure place to capture the stars with his eyes. Upon entering, he saw a figure of a girl sitting on the ground, her arms snaked around her legs, her chin rested on her knees as she quietly stared at the sky.

“Surprised to see you here.” George began, completely startling the girl.

Y/N did not fail to recognize the boy as his shadow was all too familiar for Y/N Icestone. Not to mention the deep voice the Slytherin has got to know for a while now. “Weasley.”

George quietly entered the girl’s territory, sitting next to her own the cold wooden floor as the stars burned right above them. Silence was in their atmosphere. Silent, but no hints of awkwardness. Just peace and quiet.

George eyed the girl, noticing how she showed no hints of slumber nor hints of falling into one, as she stared at the night sky. “Can’t sleep?” He questioned, whispering to retain the mood both were in.

“Too many thoughts.” Y/N answered. The girl not taking her eyes away from the million sparkles the universe has to offer.

“Care to share?” George suggested, finally earning the girl’s attention as she stared deeply into his eyes, contemplating whether to open her heart out and let the boy inside. She shrugged, shook her head from side to side before answering “I think I’m good.”

But as the boy reciprocated the doe looking eyes of the Slytherin, he knew that the girl needed some sort of consolation despite her decline of the offer of a listening ear. Y/N Icestone’s eyes shined under the moonlight like a light illuminating the black lake. It shined like melting ice, with waters threatening to fall.

Almost immediately, the Slytherin felt a pair of arms snaked around her figure, warmth enveloping her as the Gryffindor pulled her into a tight embrace. She blinked once. She blinked twice. She blinked multiple times to evaporate her ice-like eyes before seeking an answer to her head full of questions. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She croaked out.

George moved a hand to the back of Y/N head, straightening, patting her hair as he pulled her head into his big chest. “Shush, Icestone. I know you want this too.”

Y/N had her cheek planted on the Gryffindor’s chest, her ear directly above his heart as she heard the calm beating of the organ. She closed her eyes, focusing on the beat which washed all her worries away with the cold wind.

“I didn’t ask for a hug.” She muttered. George had a grin plastered on his face, though Icestone couldn’t see as she still had her eyes closed. “Warmth, Icestone. It seems like you were asking for warmth since you were shivering like a wet kitty.”

Y/N fluttered her eyes open, giving a glance towards George but not breaking away from their intimate position. She gave him a smile. “Thanks.” She whispered, her voice full of sincerity, earning a soft smile from the ginger.

The Slytherin snaked her arms to the waist of the Gryffindor, reciprocating his warm hug, which made the boy feel cold sweat as he felt the familiar butterflies enter through his stomach. The girl once again shut her eyes out, unable to catch the reddening face of the redhead boy.

“You know when I can’t sleep, I think of good memories. It makes my mind calm. Makes me feel a little bit better.” He began.

“Well, I like to count stars whenever I can’t fall asleep.” Y/N answered.

George looked at her in disbelief, huffing as he thought that it would be impossible to count something like that and for what? It’s not like you’re gonna get A+ on Snape’s class when you managed to count all the visible stars in the sky. “You know it's useless to count stars, right?”

Offended by the statement, Y/N pulled away from their warm embrace, sitting straightly as she crossed her arms around her chest. “You know it's useless to count freckles too, right?” She began.

Y/N raised a hand, moving it towards the ginger’s face as she gently poked a cheek. As light as a feather, she used her finger to trace the outline of the boy’s face. Cheekbone to cheekbone, to his forehead down to his nose then to his chin, and finally his jawline.

“But you have 41 on your face.” She stated, breaking the moment of silence as she retrieved her hand.

The Gryffindor felt sudden heat at his cheeks, getting flustered at Y/N’s statement. “Am I too good looking that you always stare at my face, sweetheart?” He covered up.

Now it was the Slytherin’s turn to feel heat creep at her cheeks. “Shut up.” She growled, earning a light chuckle from the boy.

“You’re so cute when you’re red. It matches my hair.” George further teased, poking the sides of the girl.

“Weasley, it’s like you're inviting me to punch you in the face. Do you have a death wish?” The Slytherin threatened.

“How brutal you are!” He exclaimed. “Speaking of invitation...are you perhaps busy this Friday?”

“Are you asking me on a date, Weasley?”

“...yeah” George confessed, the floor suddenly interesting to look at.

Y/N raised her brows. “Well? Then spill the details!”

“That incident during one of McGonagall’s class where you accidentally opened Malfoy’s invitation...the ones me and Fred sent to the rest of the class was an invitation for our party this Friday for the holidays! I was hoping you would want to come with?”

“I don’t get a handwritten invitation?”

“That’s why I’m inviting you right now.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?!”

“Yeah.”

“Wow.”

Y/N slanted her head with the comment. “What’s wrong?”

“I did not expect you to actually agree on going on a date with me.” George beamed.

“Why not? We’re friends. Friends go on dates too.”

“But sweetheart, I’m not asking you on a friendly date” He teased, turning his head to mimic the girl which earned him a glare. “I have a name, and it’s certainly not sweetheart.”

“My apologies Icestone, it must have slipped my mind how your heart isn’t as sweet as I thought it would be. Ice queen.”

“Right now, I’m not so sure whether I want to push you off that window or kiss you.”

George smirked, crossing his arms against his chest as he raised an eyebrow at the glaring Slytherin queen. “Can I pick?”

____________________

Friday night came, wizards and witches invited to the Weasley twin’s holiday party began making their way to the portrait of the fat lady. This included Y/N Icestone. Who carefully sneaked out the Slytherin dungeons, dodging anyone who would suspect to know her whereabouts. Reaching the next hall to reach the Gryffindor common rooms, she was met with a line of students, which she assumed was the line for the entrance. Making her way at the end of the line, she kept on looking towards the portrait, in hopes to see George and let her enter without having to wait any longer. Besides, the one handling the entry duty was seeking for the student’s invitations. Y/N Icestone didn’t have a handwritten one. She was just invited by George.

“I can’t believe the Ice queen was invited.” Spoke the student behind her.

Y/N turned her attention away from the portrait, turning around to eye the student who dared to talk to her like that. With her famous icy expression, she glared at the boy, shooting daggers. If it was any other boy, he would have whimpered like a puppy but this boy didn’t because it was no other than Draco Malfoy.

“And you’re here because?” Spoke Hermione, who came to fetch Y/N with Ginny, as per George’s requests.

“Here to stop Icestone from entering your stupid friend’s party.” Draco began, his expression sour as he started to fume. “She doesn’t belong here. And she definitely should not be hanging around with blood traitors and filthy little mud-”

“Shut it, Malfoy. Or I'll turn you into a white ferret once again.” Icestone threatened, her wand at the tip of Draco’s throat as Y/N trapped him against the wall. She placed her left hand beside the blonde’s head, leaning her face closer to the boy. “You are to leave this place unless you want me to curse you. You do not ever tell me what to do and what not to do, Malfoy.” The Slytherin girl glowered. Draco smirked, raising both his hands up in surrender, before escaping Y/N’s grip and walking away.

____________________

The crowd trumpeted as the spinning bottle landed on Fred Weasley. Hours after their holiday party began, the sneaked firewhiskeys were finally served, but with a twist. In a game of truth or dare through spin the bottle, one is to choose between the two after taking one full glass of the said spirit.

“Fred, truth or dare?” George asked with a full blown grin plastered in his face, placing the full glass in front of his twin. Fred smirked, grabbing the glass and gulping it in one shot, earning more and more cheers from the crowd. Once empty, he put it back down, stood up and boasted. “You think I’m a coward, George? Where’s the thrill in picking truth? I’m all in. I pick dare!”

“Of course, he’s gonna act like he’s the star of the night. Typical coming from one of the twins.” Ginny muttered beside Y/N, causing her to spat a small giggle.

George spinned the bottle once again, this time to decide who would be giving the dare to Fred. As the bottle came into a halt, it was pointed to no other than Lee Jordan, who gave the twins a knowing glance.

“Fred, have you ever kissed a girl before?” He questioned, earning a cackle from Ron. “I picked dare, not truth!” Fred huffed, pouring himself another glass to consume, obviously tipsy now.

“Well, then I dare you to kiss…”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the statement, thinking that it was another attempt of the twins and Lee at helping Fred make a move on Angelina.

“Y/N Icestone.” Lee called.

This caused the crowd to go wild. Some gasping for not satisfying their expectation of calling Angelina’s name, some murmuring at the thought of a Gryffindor calling out Y/N’s name, and some disappointed for their name not being called. Y/N gave the boy a stone cold glare. Beside her, Ginny gave the same look Fred and George, who she was really suspicious of.

“Excuse me, what?” The Slytherin asked, confused. Lee turned his eyes back to his tall friend. “Fred, I dare you to kiss Y/N Icestone.” He repeated.

Y/N eyed the younger Weasley twin, the grin on his face no longer there as he blankly stared at his brother. Fred, clearly caught up in the moment with all the drinks he took, didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he made his way towards Icestone, kneeling down and grabbing her hand.

The Slytherin stared at him with wide eyes, not believing that Fred agreed to perform the dare Lee gave him. Trying to get out of the situation, she gave the boy a glare, to which he was unfazed with.

“Well?” Fred mocked. “What do you mean, ‘well?’” Y/N inquired, causing the ginger to chuckle.

“Well, pucker up, Icestone! I’m going to kiss you now.”

In another attempt to avoid the unwanted rumors of her snogging a Gryffindor, more or less rumors of her snogging the twin of her controversial ginger friend, Y/N tried to flee but the grip of Fred on her hands was too strong. She then eyes Ginny, who was only giving her an apologetic look until the Slytherin decided that she would have to wake up to new rumors of herself being spread around the castle.

Closing her eyes, she froze on her spot, waiting for Fred to lean in until she heard a “Ow! Hey, George! What was that for?!” Fred exclaimed at his twin, who gave him a glare, before grabbing the Slytherin’s arm and pulling her outside the Gryffindor common room.

In the mask of Y/N Icestone, her form was confused as to why George Weasley would pull her away from his twin. Y/N knew that George was also on Fred's side for his crazy shenanigans. Fred was a troublemaker and so was George. Y/N did not understand what crossed George’s mind to not agree this time. But behind the mask of Y/N Icestone, she knew. She knew that the plans she told Daphne one night were coming true. However, she didn’t want to continue on what she was planning to do if ever her thoughts of what is to come next actually happens.

With the couple swiftly arriving at one secured and quiet hall, she retrieved her hand to cross her arms, deciding to interrogate the ginger in hopes to unfold what the future holds for the both of them. “What has gotten into you, Weasley?”

Almost immediately, the boy in question answered “George.”

“What?” Y/N mused.

George sighed, running one of hands in his lustrous hair. “My name is George. Call me George.”

Slightly confused at the answer, the Slytherin nodded slowly before continuing. “Okay, George. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong!” The Gryffindor claimed.

“If nothing was wrong, you wouldn’t have shoved your twin away from me.”

“Merlin!” The ginger exclaimed, “Are you that oblivious, Icestone?” he challenged, earning a knowing smirk from the girl. “Of course, not. But I want to hear it from you, George. Tell me.” She demanded.

Silence enveloped their shared atmosphere with George having a conversation on his head and Y/N watching him quietly. Getting impatient, the Slytherin scoffed, opening her mouth to say another word before she was cut off by George's confession.

“Alright, fine. I’m jealous, okay?” He revealed, his heart beating 10x faster than it usually was because of the drinks he had or because of the situation he was in. It definitely was the lather.

“And why would you be?” Y/N quizzed.

George sighed, dropping his shoulders as he motioned for the Slytherin to come closer to him. Y/N obliged, thinking that the boy was probably being shy to say it out loud so he opted to just whisper it instead.

In a swift motion, the Gryffindor placed his hands on the back of the Slytherin, pulling her close for a quick touch of the lips.

When he pulled away, he suddenly felt his stomach drop, butterflies filling in as he stared at the wide-eyed girl who looked at him in shock. George feigned a smirk, hoping to hide his nervousness. “Does that answer your question?”

Y/N’s face went from shock to disbelief to confusion to questioning, in a span of seconds. She raised a brow, examining the boy before her before narrowing her eyes in interrogation And crossing her arms against her chest. “I told you, George. I want to hear it from you.” She demanded.

“I fancy you, Icestone.” George croaked out. “Y/N Icestone, you have managed to steal my heart.” George declared, his eyes showing a glint of hope and his voice sweet and sincere like a lullaby.

With George’s sudden confession, the Slytherin dived deep into her thoughts, carefully examining the ginger that’s in front of her and contemplating on what her next action would be.

Under the moonlight, Y/N Icestone looked like a red rose full in bloom. Beautiful but hard to grasp. George did not understand Y/N Icestone. One minute she’s cheerful and the other she’s as cold as ice. He did not understand what Y/N was feeling.

With no answer coming from the Slytherin, he felt as if her thorns were snaking around his neck like a serpent, prickling him as he waited with anticipation. “Well?”

“Well, what?” She asked.

“What will you do about it, Icestone?”

“Y/N.” She answered.

“What?”

The girl’s face was plastered with a charming smile before taking two steps back and finally turning her heels away from the confused ginger. Walking away to retrieve back to her house dungeon, she gave the boy one last glance before saying “My name is Y/N. Call me Y/N.”

____________________

“Be honest with me, Icestone. What is your deal? And don’t you dare give me one of those reasons on how I’m making this such a big deal. This is a big deal!” Daphne criticized as she paced in front of a sitting Y/N who was cuddling her pet cat.

“Nothing, Daph! I have a plan, remember?” Icestone advertised, earning a grunt from the dark-haired girl.

“Oh quit it with your stupid plan! You said you’re going to make him fall for you and rub it in his face that he’ll never have you. But now you tell me that he was able to kiss you?!”

“It’s not a big-“

“Oh yes, it’s a big deal! He’s your first kiss! And you kissed back. Now tell me, Icestone. What. Is. Your. Deal?” Daphne repeated, a speculation already crossing her mind but she ought to confirm it with the proper words from Y/N Icestone.

Y/N contemplated for a second before calling her friend. “Daphne….”

“Go on.” Daphne pinned.

“I think I’m having feelings. How do I make it stop?”

____________________

Fred claimed his place beside his twin after bidding Angelina a sweet good night kiss. The Gryffindor common room was finally calmed as guests made their way back to their dormitories. It was 5:00 in the morning of Saturday with George sitting by the fireplace around the Golden trio, as well as the youngest Weasley.

“Nice acting skills, George. I didn’t expect you to push your face against Icestone.” Fred commented, breaking the silence. The statement caught the attention of Ginny, who sat straightly, praying that she misheard her brother.

“What?! You did what, George?” She questioned, causing Fred to exclaim “He kissed her!”

“You kissed Icestone?!” Ginny repeated.

“Bloody hell!” Ron cursed. “Have you really developed feelings for her, George? A Gryffindor and a Slytherin, huh? You’d be the talk of the whole school! Not to mention how Icestone is literally labeled as the Slytherin queen and George is just...George.” He stated.

“Hey! What do you mean I’m just George?! Just George?! I am George! One of the greatest pranksters in Hogwarts history!” George claimed, unamused by his brother’s statement.

“And what is so great about that?” The Weasley girl challenged. “Ginny! Why can’t you ever let your own big brothers have some fun?” Replied Fred. “Besides, what are you even blabbering about, Ronnikins? It was all part of the plan!”

“The bottle was secretly enchanted by Fred to make it land on Icestone on purpose!” George confessed.

“And George was to pull Icestone away before we got to do so!” Fred continued.

“To act jealous, that’s right.” George gloated as he nodded. “And to finally confess my non-existent romantic feelings!”

“Georgie here has been doing really great with the execution. She must be mad for him right now!” Fred broadcasted, giving a proud pat on his twin’s shoulders.

“I don’t know Fred. I don’t think it's such a good idea to mess with Y/N Icestone to this extent. You’re going to break her heart after this stunt!” Ginny protested, not really amused with her older brothers’ plan against the Slytherin.

George smirked. “She has a heart?”

____________________

tag list: @abrunettefangirlnerd @gloryekaterina @lilypad-55449 @memekingofwwiii @leovaldez37

Author’s note: Hello~ it been awhile since the last chapter~ My apologies for taking too long to update. I was caught up with university work that I had to use my free time to accomplish requirements as well. To make up for it, here’s a longer chapter compared to the first two. Hope you enjoy <3 Thank you so much for reading!

EDIT: I’m so sorry :’< This was meant to be posted earlier as this was supposed to be a scheduled post but I think something was wrong so it didn’t push thru aaa my apologies!

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ephyla · 3 years

Text

Midsummer Relaxation

Midsummer was approaching and the people of New Berk have been scrambling all over, preparing for the celebration. The sun barely sets anymore, and everyone was absolutely exhausted. Hiccup was supposed to overview the entire preparation of the feast but all he desired was a break. Thank the Gods for marrying such a wonderful woman.

oOo

Midsummer was approaching and the people of New Berk have been scrambling all over the village for days, preparing for the celebration. The sun barely set anymore, and everyone was absolutely exhausted, prone to often make mistakes that drove the Chief of New Berk wild. Hiccup was supposed to overview the entire preparation of the feast, but also had to settle petty quarrels between sleep-deprived Vikings; avoiding sharp flying objects on the occasion. It was the perfect recipe for chaos and he was worried that they will not be ready on time. If one thing went according to plan, three more things would set them back again. Food went missing, tables were broken, celebrative outfits were set on fire. All he wanted to do relax, he felt like he’s been awake for seven days straight and his mind isn’t cooperating anymore, just begging to shut down for a whole month. By now, he was just acting like a wandering draugr. He really wondered how his father managed to handle this without breaking a sweat and dearly wished he was by his side, guiding him.

His wife was by his side the entire time, shouldering half of the responsibilities. Even she, despite being quite tired as well (he swore he saw her take a power nap on top of a ladder last time), handled it better than himself. She seemed to be fuelled by a spark of positive energy. He remembered a few years back when the twins explained the change in their friends’ attitude towards the Midnight Sun, since then, Astrid found a dark place to sleep so she doesn’t get any more of those embarrassing memories again. What kind of Hofferson would ever call a Jorgenson handsome? Of course, the sun still had its effects on her, but her overzealous demeanour toned down to a bearable extent. While it did seem a bit overwhelming sometimes, it kept Hiccup’s spirits up. It was their first Midsummer as a wedded couple and he really didn’t want to mess this up.

Today, however, she had suddenly requested to immediately go home after being done with only half of her duties done. For someone who prides herself on being so effective and getting the work done, it was very unusual of her to abandon her responsibilities. This worried Hiccup, so he didn’t object and watched her dash towards their house. He didn’t know how much time passed, the sun remained in its usual elevated position, but he felt like tonight will be a four blocks of ice kind of night. He felt like there was absolutely no progress made today despite getting up in the early hours. He couldn’t even track the time since the sun was barely moving. Some muttonhead decided it was a smart idea to open Sven’s sheeps’ pen and let the uncoordinated Vikings chase them like toddlers who could barely walk yet. If he could get his hands on that person, he swore he was going to get an earful that even his late father, Stoick, would be impressed by. He hoped that Astrid got enough rest so she can go back to being her feisty, short-tempered self. He would greatly benefit from that. The Berkians, despite being completely out of control, would never cross with a hot-blooded, axe-wielding Valkyrie and would sober up at the speed of light.

Speaking of his beloved blonde wife, he saw her approach him with a smile on her face. Even though he was absolutely exhausted, he smiled back, her presence bringing him a sense of comfort. He extended his hand to her and she took it, bringing her closer to him, enlacing her waist, and pressing small kisses on her neck. She giggled in a very un-Astridlike way.

“Well, I’m not one to object to this kind of greeting, but we’re in the middle of town and people are looking.” Astrid said as she observed around her. Gobber was covering a kid’s eyes. Some villagers had a dumbfounded expression on their faces, rarely seeing Hiccup initiating such an intimate gesture; apart from the occasional lip or forehead kiss. Others just cheered or ignored them. Hiccup let out a small whine and rested his head on her shoulder, keeping his arms wrapped around her form.

“I missed you.” He whimpered.

“I wasn’t gone for that long, babe.” She replied as she stroked his hair. Her poor husband has the bad habit of overworking himself, and the fact that no one can distinguish between day and night definitely didn’t help. “Come home with me, I have something to show you.”

“I’m sorry Milady, I still have work to do, we’re behind schedule and Midsummer is in a week.” His reply a bit muffled in her shoulder.

“Go and have yer fun, lad. You’ve worked more than anyone here and deserve some respite. And besides, how can ye refuse yer wife’s invitation?” The young couple turned their heads to look at Gobber approaching them. “Ah, I remember when Stoick was acting just like ye, never knowing when to stop. It took Valka threatening not to share their marital bed anymore, snapped ‘im right out of it, and practically dragged ‘im home. The next morning they kept yawning all over the place, creating a chain of never-ending yawns. Now that I think about it, that’s probably how ye were concei-“

“-OKAY! That’s enough Gobber. I got your point.” Hiccup exclaimed in horror. While he was used to hanging around people that did not have a filter, Gobber was probably the one he feared the most. Since his best friend’s demise, the blacksmith has been recounting stories of him. Some were great to listen to, remembering the bravery and leadership of Stoick the Vast; but some were just better to keep to oneself. With the approach of the Midnight Sun’s peak, Gobber has gotten worse and Hiccup would’ve much preferred wearing the earbuds he made once during his encounter with the Death Song, just to save himself of the embarrassing images his mentor so crassly described to him.

Astrid looked at Gobber with a mixture of disgust and amusement, before deciding to grab her stunned husband’s arm and pulling him towards their house, away from the growing crowd of curious Vikings. She hoped her parents didn’t witness this whole ordeal.

“Astrid, I don’t think I have the energy to do what Gobber obnoxiously suggested, maybe-“ Hiccup said as he was being pulled by his wife.

“-Hush you. That’s not what I had in mind when I came to get you.” She cut him off, continuing to pull him towards their house. She let go of his arm once they crossed their threshold’s doorframe and closed the door, locked it just in case those nosy Vikings decided to rudely barge in.

After being exposed to the sunlight for so long, Hiccup’s eyes had to adjust to the darkness of the room, illuminated by a couple of candles. He could smell a pleasant fragrant scent in the room and spotted their bathtub in front of the lit fireplace; the rugs been removed. Astrid led him to the bathtub and sat him down on the chair that was deliberately placed right next to it. She saw his questioning gaze.

“Gobber was right about you working harder than anyone here in this village. You deserve to relax a bit, take some time off.”

“You know I can’t afford to relax, now. Not when Midsommer is so close. Those sleep-deprived Vikings aren’t going to lead themselves, they can barely listen to me when I’m there. I’ll rest once we’re done.” He said, preparing to stand up again. Astrid pushed him down.

“I’ve asked your mom to take your place for a bit. She’s surprisingly unaffected by the sun’s constant presence. And she agreed that you needed a day off. Everyone could see how tired you are.” Astrid started unbuttoning his (GUARD STUFF). “And I want to take care of my husband. Will you let me?” Hiccup gulped, his words not coming out. He simply nodded. It’s been a while since she saw him being bashful around her. She gratefully smiled at him and pecked him on the lips.

She proceeded to fully undress him, and took off his prosthetic, placing it within reach of the chair. Gone were the days Hiccup felt ashamed of showing his scar. Astrid made sure to show him how much he meant to her, leg or no leg. When he was coming home after a rough day of chiefing, she would give him his ice blocks and tell him to take care of his migraines while she took care of his leg, massaging it. She would sometimes bring it to her lips and kiss it, showing her appreciation to him. He would always beam at her every time she did this. She frowned when she saw the current redness of his stump, also spotting a blister forming.

“Let me help you get in the tub. Just relax. I’ll massage your leg when I come back, I’m going to get some food from the Great Hall.” She said as she rose from her kneeling position. Her cooking did improve over time thanks to Hiccup and Gobber, but she wanted his day off to be perfect, which wasn’t the case for her cooking yet. She tried to make a nice intricate meal for the two of them, which is why she left so early. However, her attempts were all in vain as the food always ended up burning. In the end, she had to admit defeat.

Hiccup grabbed her wrist. “Join me?”

Astrid contemplated his words for a few seconds before nodding. She can grab dinner later. She wrapped her husband’s arm around her shoulder and helped him get into the tub. The water wasn’t too warm since they were in the hottest month of Berk, but it wasn’t cold to the point he would start shivering after being submerged for a couple of minutes.

Hiccup looked over at his wife undress. He had seen her in this state countless times, even before they were married; but it always felt like the first time. He was the only Viking that she allowed to see her like this, with her guard down. Her body wasn’t unscathed. It was filled with scars and burns, proving that this woman was a warrior that has been through so many battles and came out victorious every time. She wouldn’t hesitate to swing an axe to a skull if someone ever looked at her funny. So, this woman allowing him to witness her in her most vulnerable state was an absolute honour to him, that he would never take for granted. Her scars were a part of her and accentuated her beauty and he made sure to always remind her of it.

“Allow me.” He said as he extended a hand towards her. She knew what he wanted and turned her back to him. He rose, sat on the edge of the tub and pulled the leather band that kept her braid in place off. He slowly undid his wife’s braid, letting her gold strands cascade down to her lower back. He then gathered her hair in his hand and swept it over her shoulder, exposing her freckled neck and scarred back. He wrapped his arms around her waist and placed a loving kiss on the largest scar she had. A scar trailed from her right shoulder to the left side of her hip. She was proud of that scar as it was a reminder of her saving his life from an assassination attempt. During the yearly Thing meeting between multiple tribes, when the dragons and some Viking tribes were still cohabiting together, a spy has been placed within them, trying to poison the Dragon-loving Chiefs. Astrid and Heather caught on pretty quickly and managed to expose the spy in front of all the Chiefs. Being surrounded, no one expected the spy to suddenly lunge himself at Hiccup with his sword. Astrid, being the closest to him and desperate to keep him unharmed, had used her back as a shield. The wound hurt like Hel but it was worth it. She was so scared to have failed him as his then-General, she didn’t care that she put her life on the line to save his. A Chief protects his own, but it’s also the General’s job to protect the people AND the Chief. Hiccup wouldn’t let her leave his sight for weeks after that, eternally grateful and forever scared he was going to lose her that day.

“You’re absolutely beautiful.” He told her. His eyes were filled with wonder to this Valkyrie in front of him. She smiled gratefully at him and climbed in the bathtub, sitting opposite of him.

She took his stump in her hands and started to delicately massage it, coaxing a few moans of relief out of him. Her nimble fingers were definitely a gift from the Gods. She managed to soothe the knots in his leg with great accuracy. All day, he had to focus on the utter chaos happening in the village that he didn’t have the time to focus on himself and his discomfort, ignoring the pains coming from his leg begging him to take the weight off of it. She carefully avoided the small blister forming near the bottom of the stump.

“Mmmh, this feels so good.” Hiccup sighed with pleasure as he closed his eye, focussing on the sensation.

“You’ve been standing for too long, babe. I know the Midsummer celebration is stressing you out, but you’ve got to start listening to your body when it tells you to rest.” He opened his eyes, looking at her hands doing their wonders underwater.

“I know, I know. But it’s a bit hard to do that when we keep progressing backward each day. I swear to Odin, every time I look away, someone messes up something, I just can’t do it.” Astrid’s hand rose to swipe Hiccup’s bangs back, revealing his beautiful green eyes. Since the start of the preparations a few weeks ago, he didn’t have the time to let her cut his hair.

“You can’t do it on your own. Remember, you have me. You have your mom, Gobber, Eret and the gang. We’re all here to help you. You just have to accept the help instead of shouldering most of the responsibilities. We’re willing to take some of the load off you.” She said as she grazed her thumb over his dark eye bags. “I can assure you that not only the work will get done much faster, but you’ll be more productive with a rested body and a peaceful mind.” She kissed his forehead. Hiccup wrapped his arms around her, making her sit in his lap. He savoured the rare peaceful moment he had with his beloved wife. She had the gift of shutting all the voices tormenting his mind and the gentle touch to relax his body in the blink of an eye. She was everything to him. He could be the best version of himself when she’s with him and never took her for granted; not since the betrothal gift incident.

“Just don’t forget you’re still human, there’s so much your body can handle before it shuts down.” She added.

“Yeah, you’re right. I might have been pushing myself pretty hard.” Hiccup replied, raising his head to look at her. There was a warmness to her that he never thought she would ever have; especially directed towards him. He remembered her words of encouragement back on the clifftops, as he was losing hope. I am the person I am today because of you. Over the years, he saw how she started to warm up to him and the rest of the people. She had been trained for years to be this fearless, unemotional warrior. Back then, the fear of losing the people you love was at its peak, so she was quick to learn how to shut her feelings down and just train from dawn till dusk. Today, she was a softer and warmer person; which didn’t mean she was weaker by any means. But with the end of the Dragon War, she has found herself a partner that saw her as an equal. They both found themselves a new purpose in life and didn’t have to fear the threat of a dragon raid any longer, which allowed them to find happiness along the way. They were happy here.

Astrid got off his lap and reached for the soap that was earlier placed at a reachable distance. She looked back at him. “Soak.” And so, he plunged his head underwater before coming back up with his bangs fully covering his eyes. She stifled a laugh as did he. “I haven’t planned to cut your hair today, so I’ll do that next laugardagr, you think you can survive until then?” She started washing his hair with the soap in her hands.

“You made a whole schedule just to help me relax? A schedule? Did I mistakenly marry Fishlegs?” This earned him a pinch on his nipple. “OW! You know they’re sensitive. I did not deserve that!” She laughed as she brought her hands back to massage his scalp. The nipple pinching forgotten, his eyes rolled back into his skull, fully appreciating the head massage. “Ooh yeah, that feels nice.” Astrid brought his bangs back down to cover his eyes and gathered the excess foam and piled it upon his head in the form two horns. She exploded in laughter at the ridiculous sight. “Wha- Astriiid!“

“You look like Snotlout’s pet yak! Oh Gods- I can’t!” She wheezed.

Hiccup was not impressed and got rid of the foam and swiped his bangs back, exposing his frown. His small smile betrayed him though. It was rare to see Astrid lose composure and in a burst of full-blown laughter. It made him break his frown and laugh with her.

“You, young lady, are in reeeally big trouble. Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Yakkity’s long lost brother?” She joked.

“Okay, that’s it, come here you!” He grabbed her by the waist and started poking her sides, knowing very well she was ticklish there. “I shall not tolerate this type of disrespect on my island.”

She tried to grab his arm, but this time he was prepared and pinned her arms by wrapping an arm around her and continuing tormenting her with the other. How she wished they were fifteen years old again. “N-No- St-Stop!”

“Then say, ‘My husband is the strongest and most handsome Viking in all of Midgard’. Say it.”

“Hahaha, N-not on yo-your life!” Having minimal movement of her arms, Astrid tried to reach downwards instead of fighting the death grip he had around her. She pinched the inside of his thigh, so very close to his precious jewels, making him jump. “Astrid! No!” He stopped tickling her but kept his arm around her.

“I will pinch higher if you don’t let me go, babe.” She tried to catch her breath from all the tickling.

“You’re awful, absolutely awful.” He whined as he let her go.

“You’re lucky this is your relaxation time.” She said, a small glint in her eyes.

“Oh yeah, what kind of torment would you inflict on your poor one-legged husband?” He challenged.

“Something that would require you to use your cane for the next day or so.” She fired back; a small, dangerous smile etched on her face. Hiccup’s eyes widened and he gulped. “But we’re both tired and I did promise to take care of my sweet husband, haven’t I? So, behave.” She flicked his exposed forehead.

“Ow. How did I get myself into this mess?” He rubbed the sore spot.

“You kidnapped me and threw me on top of a tree.” She replied with a straight face.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, you’ve had soap in your hair for long enough, rinse.” She ordered. He dived in again, washing off the soap.

“Can I wash your hair?” He asked.

“But it’s your time off.”

“Yeah, but it’s yours too. You worked just as hard. You deserve to be taken care of too.” He replied.

“You worked harder.” He rolled his eyes.

“Astrid, this isn’t a competition. I want to take care of my wife. Will you let me?” He grabbed her hand and slowly spun her around in the narrow tub and made her sit between his legs.

“You’re always looking for an excuse to touch my hair.” She jokingly said. There was an element of truth though. He loved touching her hair, combing his fingers through her long strands. Since they have gotten married, he insisted on combing and braiding her hair in the morning. There was just something intimate and therapeutic about touching her hair. She was protective over it, never letting anyone but him touch it. The first time she let down her hair for him was during the incident that left her temporarily blind. She was not able to see how much soot covered her precious hair, so she entrusted it in his care. He remembers his heart beating so fast that he thought it was going to burst from his chest. He felt honoured, and has been craving to touch her beautiful golden locks ever since.

Astrid on the other hand, hated when people touched her hair. It was her pride and joy (after Stormfly and her axe). As a child, every time her mom would braid her hair, she would always pull too hard, leaving her sore. The twins were more chaotic when they were kids. They would get away with anything because kids will be kids. As a prank, they decided it would be funny to set her hair on fire, forcing her to cut it above her shoulders. That day, she saw red and very nearly beat them to death. They were all severely punished for it, but no one has ever attempted to touch her hair ever again. He remembered that day very well, it was probably the first time he saw her cry. That’s when he learned how attached she was to her hair. The way she preened on it every night since they became a couple on the Edge reminded him so much of Stormfly. Her dragon always made sure there was not a single hair out of place after a flight. It amused him how she trusted a dragon more than Vikings to manage her hair. Stormfly had the gentle touch that Astrid craved someone to have. She always wanted her rider to look the best.

“Well?” Astrid asked as she looked back. Hiccup’s thoughts were cut off.

“Oh...Uh yeah, my bad.” He started to massage her scalp as she did him.

“Okay, I’m done. You can rinse.” He said after working on her hair for the past couple of minutes.

She dipped her head underwater and got rid of the soap before emerging again.

“Thanks.” She turned her head and smiled at him.

“I should be thanking you; this whole ‘bath’ idea was yours. It felt nice.” He kissed her exposed shoulder as he embraced her.

“Well, don’t thank me yet. We’re not done.” She patted his hand.

“Not done?”

“What, did you really think that was it? Come on, let’s get out before our skin shrivels up like a prune.” She got out of his arms, turned around, and grabbed him. She helped him up and guided him to the chair, passed him a towel, and proceeded to dry themselves before taking his prosthetic and putting it back on his stump. She started to put her clothes on, so Hiccup followed suit until she stopped him.

“Nuh-uh, just wear a towel, I highly doubt you want your clothes to be stained with oil.”

“What?”

“A massage, Hiccup. I’m going to give you a massage. Gods, even a blind man would know how tense you are just by standing near you.” She answered.

“Why are you getting dressed then? Don’t I get to give you one?”

“Next laugardagr, after I trim that overgrown mop of hair of yours. Gods have mercy on my shears.”

“S-Shears?! And by the way, my hair isn’t that bad!” Hiccup dramatically exclaimed. Astrid rolled her eyes. “I’ve never seen a man with that much hair on their head, I swear if we shave everything off, we’ll have enough to make a scarf. No need for sheep anymore.”

“First, I’m a yak, now I’m a sheep? Is that how you see me, Astrid? Nothing more than livestock? How you wound me.” He brought a hand up to his heart. Astrid let out a cackle.

“You are such a drama queen. Come on, get up your highness, there’s fresh meat to be tenderized before I chop it off and feed it to the village.” She helped him up and headed towards their bedroom.

“Please Astrid, can you be any more creepy?” It was his turn to roll his eyes.

They finally reached their room. The shutters were sealed shut, preventing most of the light to penetrate the room. Candles were illuminated, giving off the same soothing atmosphere as downstairs, cutting them off from the agitated outside world. The bed was covered by a large towel, probably to avoid the oil soak into their sheets. Astrid made her husband lie down on his stomach, removed his prosthetic again, and sat on his butt. She started tracing his back muscles with feathery fingers which made him shivers. While Hiccup was still a lean man, he definitely wasn’t the same fifteen-year-old, shy boy that she found herself falling in love with. He quickly gained muscle mass thanks to dragon-riding and her extensive sword fighting lessons. Just like all the other riders, he started to lose some after the dragons’ departure a year ago. He remained, in her eyes, the most beautiful man ever.

She caressed his back and leaned forward, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades, making him sigh lovingly. He was clearly enjoying her pampering and she wasn’t about to stop any time soon. She reached for the small vial that was ready to be used from their bedside table and poured the contents in her hands and rubbed them together to heat it up a bit. Astrid proceeded to rub his shoulders first, trying to undo that visible tension. She added her bodyweight as she tried to loosen those knots that caused his painful backaches.

“Mmh, yeah that’s the spot.” Hiccup moaned as she rubbed a specific sore area. She continued her ministrations for a bit and slowly moved onto his lower once she was satisfied with how loose and relaxed his shoulders became.

“How are you feeling?” She asked while kneading his legs.

“Like a newborn yak.” He replied, his voice muffled by the pillows. She sniggered, happy that he’s enjoying this so much.

Hiccup can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed. He truly thought he was going to melt into a puddle under her magic hands. He knew he didn’t know when to stop working. His muscles could be aching and his bones could be breaking, but he never stops until someone does or until he collapses. He had big shoes to fill and couldn’t bear to let his village down. Not when his father did a tremendous job at leading. Once Stoick finally admitted to his blindness, he saw so much growth and potential in his son, and Hiccup did his best to uphold what his father saw in him. While Stoick had to lead alone for years, Hiccup couldn’t be any more grateful to have an amazing partner by his side, supporting him. He knew he wouldn’t remain sane had he lost her like his father lost his wife. He was no idiot. He saw how he struggled when his soulmate was believed to be dead and couldn’t possibly see a future without Astrid. She was everything to him and more. The entire village knew that. They weren’t being led by the Chief and the Chief’s wife. They were Chief and Chieftess. Equals. One couldn’t function without the other. Some would say that they’re too dependent on each other and would lead the tribe to their downfall. But the Berkians knew better. Together, they were stronger than anyone.

“Turn around.” She ordered. And he complied. She sat back on his lap and leaned down to kiss him. He quickly wrapped his arm around her and savoured their kiss. They should do this more often. He missed having some quality time with just her.

Just as his hands started traveling a bit lower, a large grumbling sound resonated across the room. They separated and looked at each other. The couple started laughing.

“Well, someone is hungry. When was the last time you ate?” Astrid asked.

“Honestly, I can’t remember.” He sheepishly replied. She sighed. “Go sit in front of the hearth and let your hair dry. I’ll go grab some food from the Great Hall, I’ll be back soon.” She passed him his prosthetic and headed downstairs, leaving their household on the quest for food.

He doesn’t know how long he had been staring at the flames when she came back, a basket in hand. She approached him and sat on the floor beside him, handing him the food.

“Thank you, Milady.” He smiled at her.

“Sorry about not having any meals prepared at home.” She timidly said, looking down at her bowl of stew. “I tried to cook something from my mom’s recipes but my cooking skills are still pretty subpar. No matter how hard I tried, it just wasn’t perfect.”

He recognized those words. It just wasn’t perfect. That’s why it took them so long to become a couple, to begin with. He knew he was romantic when it comes to being in a relationship. Even before he set his eyes on anyone, he already thought of perfect scenarios with his soulmate. All the gestures and gifts; anything to quench this loneliness he felt as a young boy. He wanted his partner to feel loved. That’s why the medallion incident hit him hard. Since when did he start neglecting Astrid, causing her to feel that exact same loneliness he once felt? He never thought she was a romantic, being a hardcore shieldmaiden most of her life. But he learned that she also longed for love, she was just better at hiding it. At that time, he was still self-conscious. He has never heard her telling him that she loved him, but hearing her share her insecurities, he realized that she has. So many times, through a variation of loving gestures that she reserved for him and only him. He felt guilty for being so blind, which is why he made up for it. She deserved the best. She deserved perfect.

“Hey.” He scooted closer to her, their shoulders bumping. “This seems pretty perfect to me.” She looked at him with wide eyes. “You have no idea how eternally grateful I am to have you. This whole thing you’ve prepared for me is just perfect. I love it. I love you. So much. Whether you managed to cook an intricate meal or just brought food back from the Great Hall wouldn’t have changed anything. You did this for me, and it made me so happy. And I get to spend some time with you. I couldn’t ask for more, Astrid. Thank you.” He tenderly kissed her lips.

“I’m glad.” She paused. “And relieved.” She confessed, a smile on her lips.

They happily ate in silence, occasionally striking a conversation or just randomly stole a kiss from each other; just enjoying each other’s presence.

Their empty bowls were cast aside as they cuddled in front of the fire; savouring this rare moment of peace and quiet. Hiccup ran his fingers through her now dry hair.

“Will you let me braid your hair?” She looked at him for a few seconds before nodding and turning her back to him. He delicately combed through her silky golden tresses with his fingers, undoing the small knots and separated her hair into three parts. He expertly twisted the locks in a loose braid. Usually, Astrid wouldn’t braid her hair when going to bed as it provided a thin layer of heat for her neck. Winter in New Berk was just as merciless as Old Berk, but right now, they were approaching the hottest days of the year. While the air was still cool when evening came, she didn’t need that much coverage as the fire heated the room to a perfect temperature.

Astrid passed the leather band that was hanging on her wrist to her husband as he finished tending her hair. He attached it and swept her hair over her shoulder. Placing a light peck on the nape. She shivered at the contact and fell back, trusting Hiccup to catch her, which he did. He pressed his lips on her now accessible forehead. She laid in his arms for a while, just relishing the feeling of having his arms around her and the small, tickling kisses all across her face.

“Is this what you’ve been up to the whole time when you said you wanted to go home?” He asked.

“The failed cooking took most of my time.” She lamented.

“Did you have time to rest?” Astrid looked away. She knew she needed extra time to do the cooking, but she didn’t expect to fail that hard. In the end, it took much more time than she expected. Not that she felt like she needed a break, her husband needed it more than she did. But she was hoping to have more quality time with him. Unfortunately, after the fourth try, she decided to throw the towel.

“I’ll rest when you do.” Just as she said that the blonde Viking let out a yawn.

“Well, someone is getting tired.” Hiccup teased.

“I’ve been tired since our beloved Goddess Sol decided to show off all her glory even more so than usual.” Hiccup fought back a yawn that didn’t go unnoticed by his wife. “Seems like I’m not the only one that’s tired. Come on babe, let’s get you to bed.” She freed herself from his embrace and got up, lending a hand to help her husband up too. They headed upstairs, leaving the dirty dishes for tomorrow.

Once in their bedroom again, they undressed and put on their thin nightwear, hoping to finally get a comfortable night of sleep. They got in bed and Hiccup spooned her, letting her get comfortable in his arms. They sighed in content.

“Astrid?” He hesitantly called out, hoping she didn’t already fall asleep.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

“You know you don’t need to thank me”

“I know, but you always seem to know what I need before I even do. So, I want to thank you. I really appreciate it. I love you, Milady.” He kissed the back of her head.

She squeezed his hand that was resting around her waist. “I love you too.” She sleepily answered.

He tightened his arms around her as he let sleep consume him.

Gods, how he loved that woman.

oOo

So this one-shot was written while I was writing another Hiccstrid story. I just needed a break since I was having a writer's block and I desperately needed some heartwarming fluff because the other one is heavy, at least for me it is. This one-shot could possibly have a potential smut scene one day, I just have no idea how to write those yet.

The other story will be posted soon, depending on how inspired I am. It's either going to be a long one-shot or a short chaptered fiction. To this day, I have written around 11K words, and it could possibly reach 20K. All I'm going to reveal for now is that Astrid is going to have a bad time. Hopefully you guys will be interested.

Also, would anyone be interested in a separate one-shot on how Astrid got that scar? I don't know why, I love Astrid so much that I need to read/write Astrid!Whump fics.

#hiccstrid fanfiction #fanfic #hiccstrid #married life #Astrid Hofferson #Hiccup Haddock #httyd #httyd 3

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theweasleyslytherin · 4 years

Text

i knew you (ron weasley x reader) part 5

part 1/masterlist

summary: Ron inexplicably broke up with Cassiah Black just days before their final year at Hogwarts, leaving them both with broken hearts and no future plans, but too stubborn and too proud to fix things. The centuries-old rivalry between their Gryffindor and Slytherin houses only make things worse, and friendships are truly put to the test. Will they find their way back together before the year ends, or will the end of their time at Hogwarts be the last time they ever see the each other?

warnings: angst, drug/alcohol use, eventual smut ;)

CHAPTER 5 - say what you mean

You say I'm changing Sorry I didn't know I had to stay the same Can we talk about this later? Your voice is driving me, driving me insane

Be Nice to Me, The Front Bottoms __________________________________

Due to all the chaos of the week before, Cassiah was really hoping for an extraordinarily ordinary Monday. After helping a distressed first year girl in the common rooms who could not figure out how to tie her tie, Cassiah left the Slytherin dormitories and headed to her first class of the day. Thankfully, the class was entirely uneventful. She sat in her usual seat with the Slytherin boys and stole the occasional glance at Ron, who was seated where he always was – in the back of the class with Neville.

It was when she was on her way to her second lecture that things took a turn for the worse – really sharp turn.

Cassiah smiled as she saw Hermione ahead of her in the hallway and quickened her pace to a jog to catch up. "Mione, hey! Wait up!" she called, grabbing gently on the shorter girl's arm.

They pulled over to the side of the hallway and Hermione gave Cassiah a tiny smile, "Hey."

Immediately, Cassiah sensed that something was off. Ever since she'd been blindsided by Ron, her intuition had been heightened, almost like her instincts were trying to protect her from getting ambushed like that again. She frowned, concerned, "Is everything okay? I haven't seen you in almost a week." Until this moment, Cassiah hadn't thought twice about not seeing Hermione. They were both very busy and in different houses, so it wasn't crazy to think that their schedules would conflict.

Hermione glanced around, not liking that there were so many people in the hallway, but sighed and spoke her mind anyways, "Not really. Ginny told me about what happened. I really don't like the way you lashed out at her. It's really not okay."

Cassiah's jaw gaped open and she stuttered, "Are you kidding me? Hermione, first of all, she was totally in the wrong for spilling to the boys about my date, but second of all, it wasn't that big of a deal."

The curly-haired girl's eyes hardened, "It was a really big deal to her when she was crying about it, Cassiah."

Cassiah flinched when Hermione used her full name. She couldn't remember the last time she'd called her that – it was probably over a year ago. Something about it felt very final – very permanent.

Hermione continued, "Ginny meant no harm. She was so traumatized from people so senselessly attacked. I told her that's what we can expect from a girl who spends all her time being buddy-buddy with Draco Malfoy of all people."

Cassiah's breathing stopped for a second. What was happening? The girls had been so loyal to her through her whole recent break up, and now they were ganging up on her. The fight with Ginny was two-sided, and Cassiah refused to take the blame for the whole thing. It takes two to tango, and Ginny definitely was dancing.

And to attack her friendship with Draco?

"Draco's been a much better friend to me these past several days than you have, actually. If you guys had been there for me since we got back to school, maybe I wouldn't have to lean on him so much. But you weren't, so I have. And he's been a great friend."

Hermione scoffed, "That's rich, Cass. His parents are Death Eaters. He's Draco Malfoy for crying out loud. Don't act like he's suddenly a good person."

Cassiah had had enough. She wrinkled her nose, giving Hermione a once-over, and shook her head, "You Gryffindors are all the same. But you're wrong. You're wrong about all of it, but especially about him. 'Draco Malfoy' has one of the biggest hearts you'll ever come across if you ever got to the time to actually get to know him. But you guys refuse to see it. And it's a damn shame, because you're missing out on a truly amazing friend." Cassiah stared at Hermione for a second, her disposition having changed from angry to simply remorseful. Her voice quieted as she added, "I thought you of all people could understand not wanting to be judged based on other people's perception. But until you learn that, I don't really want to be around you right now."

Hermione scowled and walked away. As Cassiah turned to do the same, she almost crashed into tell-tale platinum hair and green robes.

Draco was wearing the softest smile she had ever seen, and his eyes were wonderstruck.

"Draco, I–"

"Thank you," he said earnestly, reaching out to hold on to her shoulder, "No one has ever done something like that for me before." He was a man of few words, but based on just those words alone, Cassiah knew how much this meant to him. It saddened her that just the bare minimum of loyalty made such a large impression on him.

"Draco, of course," she replied, staring up at him with earnest, "That's what family's for, right?" She gave him a wink.

He chuckled lightly, clearly a bit embarrassed at being so vulnerable, "Yeah. You're finally acting like a true Slytherin after all these years."

Cassiah laughed back with him and raised an eyebrow, "Well, I don't have much choice other than House loyalty now. I think I just broke up with the last of my other friends for you, Malfoy."

Draco smirked, "Fuck Gryffindor, anyway, right? Who needs 'em."

Cassiah couldn't help but think of Ron and the other Weasleys, but she kept up the joke, knowing that Draco meant no harm,

"Right."

_____________

Ron and Hagrid had developed a sort of tradition last year after Fred and George had graduated of getting absolutely stoned down at the hut about once a week. For the sake of Hagrid's job, no one else knew about it, besides Harry of course, but it had turned into a sort of refuge for Ron from the rest of the world. It was so peaceful down there, and Hagrid felt like family to him when he was away from the Burrow. Plus, with the twins gone, the half-giant was the only other person at Hogwarts who could hang with him.

They had completely hot-boxed the hut and the air was thick with smoke when Ron spoke. "I bloody miss her." Hagrid said nothing. He was a good person to talk to about these things because he knew when to be silent so that Ron could really get to the bottom of his thoughts. The red head sighed, "I was so happy. I don't know why I couldn't just let us stay happy. And now I'm left carrying a torch for her and she ends up not missing me at all. I never thought that any of this would happen."

It was silent for a minute, the fire crackling in the background, before Ron continued. "She seems different," he said, staring at the fire, "Does she seem different to you? You know, in class."

Hagrid didn't have to ask who Ron was talking about. "You talk first, then I'll answer. Different how?" he asked. He knew he was the only person, except Harry sometimes, the boy felt comfortable talking about the relationship. Ron just knew that Hagrid wouldn't tease him like the guys his age for being a pussy.

Ron sighed, running a hand through his red hair, "I can't put a finger on it. I obviously don't spend time with her. But just when I see her around she seems... like she's not fully there? Almost cold, but not cruel. Like she can't be bothered."

The older man nodded, "Perhaps she's got something pretty heavy weighing on her mind. Something more important than dining hall banter or Care of Magical Creatures class."

Ron sat up straighter at the mention of Hagrid's class, "Ha. So you did notice it."

"I'm staying uninvolved."

"Uh huh," Ron laughed lightly, "But you couldn't possibly mean that you think she's acting this way because of me?" When Hagrid did nothing but raise hie eyebrows, Ron shook his head and explained, "There's no way. I wish. But bloody hell, she's going on dates with other guys. I'm the last thing on her mind."

Hagrid shifted in his seat, the old wood creaking under his size, "I can't make you see it from the outside, Ronald." Ron furrowed his brow, not understand the nuance of Hagrid's words. Why couldn't he just say what he meant?

"What do you mean?" he asked, but Hagrid was rising from his seat and gesturing to the back door.

"It's getting late, young lad. Better get back to the castle before someone notices you're gone, yeah?" Hagrid said, showing him out the door. Ron clearly was not getting answers out of him tonight.

So he headed out the door and back to the castle to grind through his Dark Arts paper. His stomach growled. Perhaps he'd stop for a second dinner, first.

_____________

Back in the Slytherin common room, Cassiah was seated on the couches with almost all her friends: Draco, Blaise, Pansy, Daphne, and even Goyle was there, although he was mostly silent. Draco was proudly recounting the events of how Cassiah had stood up to Hermione – cautiously leaving out the part about how she defended him, as he wasn't ready to be that vulnerable with the others – and everyone was more that happy to hear that she'd severed her ties with the Gryffindors. As they pointed out, now there was nothing holding her back from her loyalty to her own House. Cassiah supposed that was a positive outlook, but she couldn't help but feel a bit sad. Sure, Hermione and Ginny had been bloody awful friends, but she had some amazing times blurring the lines between rival houses with the Gryffindors.

She and Fred and George had been fast friends after she and Ron had started dating. Something about their energy was infectious and they brought out an unbridled, uninhibited side in her that she never knew she had before. Ron had loved how close she was with his family, especially his favorite brothers.

The music was blasting in the Gryffindor common room and almost the entire 5th through 7th years were packed in the room. There were even a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Cassiah was the only Slytherin, however, but she didn't mind a bit. She never let someone's house determine her relationship with them.

"Black," George had said, and Cassiah, in her tipsy state, shrieked with laughter at how the twins had seemingly materialized at her side.

"Shot?" Fred asked, already knowing the answer as he held out a cup for her. She grabbed it eagerly and smiled up at them from where they towered over. She was tall herself, but not compared to the twins.

"Ready Fred?"

"Ready George. Ready Cassie?"

She giggled at being let in on their joke, "Ready Fred." They tossed back their shots and Cassie cheered, throwing her hands up in the air and letting the music take over her.

The twins were always the life of the party, and Cassiah couldn't help but get swept up in their energy. She cheered at the song changed and it was one of her favorites.

"I dare you to get up on the table," Fred yelled to her over the music, and she scoffed, "No way!"

"Cassie, it's your song!" George pressed, and she grabbed the bottle from him, taking a long swig. She wiped her sleeve over her mouth and smirked at the two of them.

"I'm only going up there if you guys are my back up dancers."

"Oh, it is so on," they said in unison. Cassiah was hoisted up onto the table and the twins followed. The room erupted into cheers, enjoying their drunken rendition of the song, complete with ridiculous dance moves. She could barely control her laughing at their antics. She was so crossed and life was so, so good.

When the song ended, Ron appeared at the foot of the table below her. He held out her hand for her, looking up at her with his bright eyes twinkling. She took his hand and let him lift her off the table, spinning her around. She threw her head back and her arms out, laughing wildly.

"My girl's quite the performer," Ron whispered in her ear as he finally let her feet meet the ground.

Her heart fluttered at being called 'his girl.' He knew how she loved when he talked that way.

"Allow me to give you an encore performance, then," she said, biting her lip mischievously. She turned so that her back was to his chest and grabbed his hands, wrapping them around his waist. Ron sucked in a breath at the feeling of her backside against his crotch as she started moving her hips to the music. God, she had a gift for getting down on the dance floor and it drove him mad.

He pressed a sloppy kiss to her neck, sucking lightly before murmuring gruffly in her ear, "Bloody hell, Cassie. I love it when you dance on me."

She giggled, grabbing his hands and running them up and down her sides before spinning herself out. She dragged him behind her as she headed to the couch, "Come sit. I need to catch my breath from all that dancing."

Ron plopped down on the couch, and inhaled sharply when Cassiah took a seat on his lap.

"I love you," she said sweetly, looking back over her shoulder to press a kiss to his lips.

He smiled too, "I love you, too, honey," but frowned slightly when she pulled away from the kiss. It wasn't enough. After watching her dancing so confidently, and then teasing him all sexy on the dance floor, he was getting worked up. He was desperate for some more snogging than that, but she didn't pick up on it.

She shifted in his lap as she bounced along to the song. Every movement was torture for Ron, who was trying to play it cool in a crowded room. Eventually he couldn't take it anymore.

He grabbed her hips roughly, holding her down in place. "Cassie," he whispered in her ear. She shot him a look that said she knew exactly what she was doing, and she was doing it on purpose.

He tightened his grip on her and thrust up his hips up roughly. "Don't start what you can't finish, Cassiah," he growled. The hair on the back of her neck stood up at his tone and she melted a bit.

"Who said I wasn't going to finish?" she replied, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

With that, Ron lifted her off his lap. The ease with which he did it made her feel hot all over. He grabbed her hand and dragged her toward the stairs to the dormitories. She knew she was about to get what she'd been asking for all night.

She caught Fred's eye on her way out the door, who gave her a juvenile wink. She flipped him off playfully right before they disappeared up the stairs.

Life was good.

_____________

Her other friends had left the common room following the discussion about her disaffiliation with Gryffindor, and only she and Draco were left studying alone.

Cassiah couldn't help but notice that as the group was all laughing and joking together, Draco's eyes were trained on one person in particular, but she wasn't going to mention it. She knew Draco well enough to know that he'd mention it when he was willing to talk about it.

She sighed. Thinking about that party had really messed with her head. She missed the way her life had been. Things had been so perfect with Ron. She was truly becoming a part of the family, and then one day it was all gone. It was so cruel. Before this, she had never thought of wanting to hurt another person or seek revenge, but she felt different lately. She wished that he could understand the way that felt, but she couldn't imagine a way she could ever hurt him the way he had her.

Unless...

"I want to make him jealous," she stated out of the blue.

Draco looked up from his parchment and placed his quill down on the table, "I've been waiting for this. Good thing you have the perfect way to do that. Why don't you ask Ernie out on another date? A more public one, of course."

Cassiah paused for a moment, considering, before shaking her head. "No. I don't want to use him as a pawn. Even though I didn't feel anything with him, he's still a really nice guy and it's not fair to play with his emotions."

The blonde boy grinned, "You're too good, Cass. But I know what you mean." She smiled back at him across the table.

They both turned back to their quiet studying, the only noise being the sound of quills on parchment. Several minutes passed before Draco spoke again,

"You know, uh. I could do it."

"Do what?" Cassiah asked absently, copying down a charm onto her paper.

"Make Ron jealous," he said matter-of-factly and Cassiah coughed loudly.

"What?" she spluttered, her face reddening. Draco had always been just her friend.

Draco chuckled from across the table, "Calm down, Cass. Not like that. I've got my eye on someone else, anyways."

Cassiah was more than relieved, and also excited that he was finally admitting his feeling, "Merlin, I knew it! I saw the way you were looking at Pansy like a little puppy. Why don't you just ask her out."

He rolled his eyes, "Draco Malfoy does not simply ask a girl out. Especially when I'm not sure if she's into me. And especially not when we used to do it on the down-low. It would be humiliating to say the least."

Cassiah stared at him across the table. "Well, maybe Draco Malfoy should grow a pair," she lectured him. "But, seeing as your idea might be mutually beneficial... What are you proposing, exactly?"

"Nothing physical–"

"Obviously."

He sighed, "Just some mind games. Little things that they're sure to notice. Like you can carry my hanker-chief around for class or something."

Cassiah shook her head. That wouldn't be enough to make Ron jealous because there was no way he'd notice. He wasn't that observant. If she was going to make him jealous... "That's not big enough," she conceded, "It has to be at least a bit more scandalous. Something to get people talking."

They both sat for a minute, considering, before she suddenly rose from her seat and crossed to sit beside him. "Draco?" she said coyly, "Have you smelled my new perfume yet?"

He looked bewildered, but responded honestly, "No? Cass, what–"

"Would you like to?" she asked, pulling her hair away to expose her neck. There was an evil glint in her eye that Draco had never seen before. He leaned over, letting his nose graze the skin against the nape of her neck and he inhaled her scent lightly,

"It's lovely," he commented. She let her hand trace over her own sensitive skin, and she inhaled sharply when she felt Draco's breath still on her skin.

"It would be shame if Ron somehow got the impression that there had been another man in my bed. They've already noticed that you and I are spending a lot of time together. He doesn't have to know the truth," she whispered, "I wonder how we might trick him into believing such a wild story..."

Draco suddenly knew what she was alluding to, and he had to admit it was genius. He let his lips ghost over her skin before sucking lightly at the nape of her neck. She shivered. Even though things with Draco were strictly platonic, there was still a pair of lips attached to her neck.

He pulled away, revealing a red mark that would surely form into a dark love bite.

"You're a bloody genius," he laughed, returned to his seat.

"I know," Cassiah replied smartly, her eyes smiling. She glanced at Draco, smirking knowingly when she noticed the slightest bulge in his pants.

He blushed slightly and stammered, "God, Cass, it's not like that. It's just a physical reaction."

She snorted, and punched him in the shoulder, "I know, Malfoy. I tend to have that affect on people."

"I hate you," he retorted, but the belly laugh he let out a moment later said differently.

__________________________________

That’s the end of this chapter! Cassiah and the twins makes me happy. And ugh, I just love Cassie and Draco's friendship so much. What do you guys think of their plan tho? I also love the Ron and Hagrid vibe. I don't know where it came from, but once I got the idea, I couldn't not put it in. It just feels too real.

I hope you guys enjoyed! Hopefully the next one will be up a lot sooner :) if you enjoyed, show me some love :)

xx jenna

Published on my Wattpad (halebscallison) and my Tumblr (theweasleyslytherin).

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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years

Text

A Place to Belong Chapter 36: Can You Find it In Your Heart

Chapter 35

Read on AO3

After getting her bearings, Claire made her way downstairs and outside. She wandered the grounds a bit aimlessly until she heard thudding from the stables. It was the time of day where the horses were grazing, so there was only one thing that could be making that noise. Claire peered inside to see Fergus hurling horseshoes at one of the beams, grunting loudly with every throw.

He depleted his stock, so he quieted and made his way to pick them up again. Claire rapped on the door, and he looked up in surprise.

“Is it alright if I come in?”

He sighed and threw down the horseshoes. He leaned against the beam he’d been aiming at and slid down into the hay, head in his hands. Claire took this as tentative permission and slowly made her way toward him, and he did not object when she sat down next to him in the hay.

“I heard about the pistol, Fergus,” Claire said, trying her best to keep her voice devoid of accusation, but firm all the same. “I know you’re the one that fired it.”

He kept his head in his hands, fingers threaded through his curls and elbows on his bent knees, staring blankly ahead of him.

“That was a foolish thing you did,” she said evenly. “You could have been arrested and flogged. Somebody else could have been. Rabbie, who is your friend. Or your Uncle. Mary MacNab just took the fall for you. Something seriously terrible could have happened to her.”

The boy’s jaw hardened.

“Why would you do something like that?”

“To protect the bairn,” he said simply.

“Fergus,” Claire said, demanding he look at her. He did, reluctantly. “Do you really believe that a raven could have hurt the baby?”

“If I did? Will you call me stupid since you know better because of where you come from?”

Claire blinked back her shock for a moment. Did he really think so poorly of her to assume she’d berate him?

“No,” she answered, as calmly as she could muster. “I just...I think you know better than to bring very real danger to Lallybroch because of a superstition.”

He took a fistful of hay in his hands and started tearing individual strands with short, angry movements.

“So you are saying I am stupid.”

“Fergus…” Claire sighed with exasperation. “I’m trying to have a conversation with you. I’m upset by everything that happened today, and upset knowing that you had a hand in causing it.”

He started tearing more furiously at his strands of hay.

“And I wanted to try to understand,” she continued. “You’ve been...so different lately. I want to help you if I can.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, I really think you’re not! Even before today you’ve been irritable and very short with me.”

He abruptly stood up and punched the beam he was leaning against, and Claire jolted in surprise.

“This behavior is dangerous in this world! Don’t you understand?” Claire stood up. “If you’d gone after those men that hurt me, they’d have shot you without a thought! Or mutilated and maimed you! Is that what you want?”

His nostrils flared as he briefly nursed his now bruised and battered knuckles.

“If you don’t get that temper under control, something terrible is going to happen. You can’t be so bloody impulsive.” She went to reach for his hand to check for any blood, but he pulled away.

“I am not a child anymore,” he said hotly. “I do not need coddling.”

“Christ, Fergus! What has gotten into you?” She crossed her arms, eyeing him in disbelief. “Have you even heard a word I’ve said? Do you not understand the danger you’ve put this family in?”

“It is my job to protect this family!” he shouted. “I am a man now!”

“You will not be a man until you learn to think before you act!” Claire spat. “And shooting at a bloody bird with a weapon that you know was hidden for a damn good reason is not thinking before you act!”

“I do not need you to mother me anymore!” he fired right back, and Claire felt a harder blow to her gut than the Corporal’s boot. “You are afraid of the whole world, but I am not!”

Her throat began constricting with tears of rage.

“Fergus — ”

“You would hold on to me so tight I would choke if I let you! Because you are afraid!”

“I’ve very good reason to be afraid!” she cried. “Don’t you understand what it would do to me if something were to happen to you?”

“Happen to me? Or happen to Milord?”

She froze in shocked confusion for a moment. “What...?”

“I have been trying...for years to be what you need me to be, to be what you lost! And it is never enough! So now I will be what I need me to be! A protector, a man!”

Claire almost collapsed to her knees. Not because she was shocked, but because he was right. And she knew it.

“You have been...since Milord...figé dans le temps...you cannot...you cannot let it go! And you want me to be...frozen with you! To never let it go!”

Claire felt the earth beneath her shifting and her throat dry up.

He’s right.

“Well I have grown while you stayed frozen. And you cannot be angry with me for that.”

“I’m...I’m not angry, Fergus. I just....I want you to grow, and have a life, but you can’t be reckless, especially since you’re claiming to be doing it for the sake of the family!” She chanced a step closer to him, digging her fingers into her arms for stability. She lowered her voice, softened it. “No matter how old you get, I’ll never stop worrying about you.”

“I survived in the brothel for almost eleven years before you and Milord found me, and I was just fine!” Claire felt a brick drop into her stomach, nearly jumping in surprise at his shouting in response to her soft words. “I have been a man for a long time already!”

Claire’s chest heaved with pained betrayal, and she was unable to bite back vengeful, spiteful rage in return. She and Jamie had rescued him from that place, from an eventual fate worse than death. How dare he throw that in her face?

“Oh, please! The only thing you learned from that place was how to sleep around, unsafely at that!”

Before the absolute horror at the words that had come out of her own mouth could set in, Fergus was already winding up to fire right back.

“You see? I knew it! This is not about a pistol and a bird!” Fergus spat. “You need me more than I ever needed you! And now, you are angry with me! You are angry with me because I am not enough like Milord! Because no matter how I try, I will never be perfect like he was! And you will never forgive me for it!” He picked up another horseshoe and hurled it across the stable before storming away.

“Fergus!” Claire’s voice broke, and she felt fragments of her heart fly through her chest and cut her open. “Wait!”

What have I done…?

She hiked up her skirts and sprinted after him, her voice catching in her throat every time she tried to shout after him again, but a pair of arms caught her around the middle, and she yelped.

“Dinna follow him jest yet.” Ian’s calming voice entered her ears, and she ceased her feeble struggle. She hadn’t even noticed he was anywhere nearby. “He needs to be alone wi’ his anger fer a while.” He shifted her in his arms so he could look her in the eye. “As do you.”

Claire’s chin trembled and she bit down fiercely on her lip. “I said such...horrible things to him…”

“Come on, let’s get ye inside.”

“He’ll never forgive me…” Claire sputtered, unable to fight Ian as he gently pushed her toward the house.

“It’ll be alright, lass. He’s still yer boy.”

Claire shook her head, weeping quietly.

I’ve just lost him forever.

——

Claire stood and began helping the girls clear the table. Her eyes kept flicking up to the doorway, as if willing Fergus to appear. Claire had cried to herself in her room for a bit before Brianna came looking for her, and she spent the rest of the day escorting children in and out to see the baby, tending to Jenny, and watching the children while she rested. Fergus had been gone the entire day, and he hadn’t even returned for supper. Claire had insisted that Mary make a plate for him, nearly certain that he’d come home to eat. If she knew nothing else about him anymore, she knew he had the appetite of three grown men.

But he didn’t come home.

She teared up again as she took his untouched plate in her hands.

“Mary,” she said. “Could you keep this set aside in the kitchen...for when he comes home?”

“Aye, Mistress.”

Claire felt a tug on her skirt.

“Mummy?”

She looked down to see Brianna, fists full of utensils. “Where is Fergus?”

Claire sighed. “I don’t know, lovie. He didn’t want to come to supper tonight.”

“Is that why you’re sad?”

Always so intuitive, so full of empathy.

“I’m alright, Brianna. I’m just a little worried.” Claire caressed her head with the hand that was not holding dishes. “But he’ll be home soon.”

She nodded, content to accept her mother’s words as truth, and scuttled off after Maggie and Kitty toward the kitchen.

Brianna was now sleeping in her own bed, in a room with Kitty and Maggie. In the last few years, Jehu had proved incredibly effective in alerting the family of an upcoming seizure, and Claire finally felt comfortable letting her sleep in a separate room. After finishing with the dishes, Claire was dragged up to their bedroom by both Kitty and her little shadow. They passed the Laird’s room, and Maggie shyly tugged on Claire’s skirt.

“May I say goodnight to the bairn and to Ma, Auntie Claire?”

“Stop tugging,” Claire scolded the younger girls before turning back to Maggie. “Yes, love, wait here.”

Claire knocked on the door before poking her head in. She informed Jenny that Ian was taking a look at the ledgers before joining her in bed, and she led a procession of little girls to give Jenny and the baby a kiss. On the third floor, Mary MacNab already had the twins asleep in the nursery, and young Jamie and Rabbie were playing chess in their room; rather, Rabbie was helping the lad find his footing with the game. She noted that Fergus was not with them; he would be if he was home.

Claire stripped the girls down to their shifts and tucked them into bed, Brianna and Kitty squeezed into one bed with Jehu sleeping on Brianna’s pillow.

“Goodnight, little faery,” she kissed Maggie’s head. “Goodnight, little heathen,” she kissed Kitty’s, earning a giggle for the nickname. “And goodnight, my little girl.”

“G’night, Auntie.”

“Goodnight, Mummy.”

Claire blew out the candles and made for the door.

“Mummy?”

“Yes, darling?”

“When Fergus comes home, can you tell him to give me my kiss?”

Claire almost burst into tears again. Fergus kissed Brianna goodnight, every single night. When she was younger, she refused to go to bed without it.

“Of course, sweetheart. Goodnight.”

Claire checked on Jenny and the baby one final time before retiring to her own bedroom. She changed into a fleece nightgown and stoked the fire a bit. She was very reluctant to get into bed tonight. It had been several months since Brianna was regularly sharing her bed, but Claire still ached with that absence. It reminded her of when Fergus was still a little boy, and had decided he was ready to sleep on his own again after months of clinging to her in his sleep in grief or in fear. She remembered being woken by heartbreaking little sounds, feeling him thrash in his sleep, and she wondered if his nightmares still plagued him even after all these years. She wondered if she’d done enough to help him.

And of course she felt that she hadn’t.

Yes, she clung to Brianna in her sleep so she could feel if she began seizing; yes, she’d offered comfort to Fergus by letting him sleep beside her. But there was something inherently selfish in it as well, something that she now recognized and could see for what it was.

She realized suddenly that she had no idea how to sleep alone.

And then it hit her how painfully alone she was.

She was forced, then, to reconcile that she’d used that tangible pain of loneliness to hurt her own son, even without realizing, all those years ago. He’d never get back that youth she’d stolen from him.

Rather than get into bed and be reminded yet again of its emptiness, which would inevitably lead to being reminded of her shortcomings and failures, she curled up into her chair by the fire and stared at the burning embers. Hours into her silent, tearful reverie, slow footfalls graced the steps, and she assumed them to be Ian’s. But the more she listened, the more she realized that there were two feet, not one foot and a wooden leg. She had to physically restrain herself from throwing herself out of her chair and chasing after him.

Instead, she poked her head out the door in time to see him slowly make his way up to the third floor. She silently followed after him, making it up the stairs just in time to see him enter the wrong bedroom.

Brianna’s bedroom.

She stood outside the door, out of sight.

“Bonne nuit, ma petit lapin.”

She heard him kiss her head, and Claire could fully picture Brianna’s lips drawing into a smile in the light of Fergus’s candle, even as she slept. She always did that when offered affection in her sleep, like her father. So entranced Claire was by this idea that she didn’t even hear Fergus approaching the door again. They both jumped out of their skins when he shut the door behind him to see Claire standing right there, clutching her shawl tightly.

“I...” Claire stammered. “I’m sorry. I just...she wanted you to say goodnight. But I see I didn’t have to tell you.”

Fergus did not meet her eye, but he nodded.

“I’ll just...” She cleared her throat. “Goodnight.”

She quickly turned and fumbled her way back down to the second story without waiting for a response. She knew he didn’t want to see her, let alone speak with her.

She spent a few more lingering minutes before the fire before dragging herself into bed. She lay there for an indeterminable amount of time with her eyes wide open, her own hateful words repeating over and over in her mind.

And then there was a knock at the door.

She jerked into a sitting position and lit a candle, pulling her shawl around herself again. She opened the door to see Fergus standing there in his sark, wearing trousers that looked like he’d hastily pulled them on.

“I...couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled, still not meeting her eye.

“Me neither.”

They stood there for a moment, taking each other in.

“Do you...want to come in...?”

Without a word, Fergus stepped inside. Claire put her candle on the nightstand and sat on her bed, then patted next to her in invitation. Fergus sat his own candle beside hers, and then sat down.

“Remember when you used to be in here all the time?” Claire said softly. “You were so young then.”

Fergus nodded silently.

“So much has changed since then...and yet not very much has changed at all.”

He continued staring ahead, the moonlight illuminating his wild curls, and candlelight flickering in his wide eyes.

“What I said to you about the brothel was unforgivable.”

Claire felt her throat tighten and her pulse quicken after the words left her mouth, but she thanked God that they left her mouth at all.

“It is not your fault where you were born and how you were raised there. And I had no right to use that against you. It was despicable. And what you said...” she continued before losing her nerve. “Well, you’re right.” She debated whether or not to mirror him, to stare at the wall and pretend he wasn’t there. But she decided instead to look at him, to pour as much love and tenderness as she could into her gaze, just in case he should decide to spare her a glance.

“I’ve never, ever been angry at you for it, but you were right when you said that I wanted you to be like Jamie. I’m...” She swallowed thickly, fighting the urge to look away from him. “I’m so ashamed of it, but it’s true. I allowed you to put that pressure on yourself because...deep down I wanted you to. And that’s not fair. It was so wrong of me; it is so wrong of me. All these years.

“You were...you were a child when we lost him, Fergus. The things I expected of you...it was wrong. And you did it all without a second thought, and I took it for granted and expected you to be alright with it. Because I thought you could somehow handle more than normal little boys. And I realize now that that was grossly unfair. And you were right. I...I needed you, Fergus. And not the way that a mother should need her son. I used you for comfort when I should have been looking after your own comfort and safety. I leaned on you too heavily, so heavily that I...I’ve pushed you away from me now. And I don’t know if I can ever fix it.”

Her vision clouded but she forced herself to continue.

“I’m so...so sorry, Fergus. I don’t know how I can ever apologize enough. You don’t have to forgive me. I won’t blame you if you never do. And I won’t be angry if you never do. But please...please know...” Her voice broke and she inwardly cursed herself. “That I love you. And nothing could ever change that. No disagreement, no pistol or crow or bloody Redcoat.”

She chanced a trembling hand on his cheek, brushing her thumb over his delicate cheek bone. “You are and always have been my son since the moment I laid eyes on you. If I could go back and...and stop myself from failing you as I have...I would.”

She kept her hand there for a moment before pulling it away and folding her hands in her lap. She hadn’t lied; she didn’t expect him to forgive her. She expected him to get up and leave without another word. She sniffled and blinked back more tears, wringing her hands. The silence was stifling, tangible, and long. It felt like neither of them blinked or breathed for hours.

“You have not failed me, Maman.”

Claire blinked then, several times. In shock.

“I was...angry. When I said I did not need you,” Fergus continued. “You have never failed me, not for a moment since you saved me.”

Saved him.

“You apologize for needing me more than you should...but I needed you to need me. I needed petit to need me. I needed to...prove to Milord. That I...”

“Prove what, darling?” Claire didn’t reach for him, despite how everything in her urged her to do so.

“That I was worthy. That I deserved to have been his son.”

“Fergus...”

“Taking care of you was never a question, Maman. Milord trusted me to. I know he did. And if he knew about his daughter, he would trust her to me, too.”

“But you were so young...” Claire reasoned. “You couldn’t possibly have been a substitute for a father. For a husband.”

“You do not understand...” he said with quiet frustration, but directed more at himself than at her. “I went from...being nothing. Having nothing. To having...family.”

Claire’s eyes welled up again, and she bit fiercely down on her lip.

“It was...how you say...accablante...”

“Overwhelming,” Claire said softly.

“Oui. To suddenly...belong.”

A tear rolled down Claire’s cheek, and she did nothing to stop it.

“I went from nothing, to something that was...everything. I went from a nobody, to a son, to the man of a family. A broken, wee family...but still a family. I had to save it from being broken. Like you and Milord saved me.”

“Oh, my darling...” Claire said. “You didn’t need to repay us for taking you in. You never, ever had to do that.”

“I know. It was not repayment for your sake. But for mine. I cannot...explain it better.”

But Claire nodded. “Something for your soul. Not for us.”

“Oui.” He nodded. “And when you put it that way...that is selfish too, non?”

“No, Fergus. It isn’t.” She dared to reach for him again, putting a hand on his knee. “It’s noble and honorable. Like your father taught you to be.”

He finally turned to look at her then, meeting her eye.

“You are everything he would want you to be, Fergus. I know it in my heart. You had him for such a short time, but he raised you in his image, and it’s made you who you are.”

“Non, Maman. You have raised me in his image.” Fergus covered her hand with his. “I would not be Milord’s son if you did not show me how.”

A small sob erupted from Claire, and she couldn’t stop herself from cupping his face in her hands. “He would be...so proud of you. Of the remarkable young man you’ve grown into, the wonderful brother you are. And the wonderful son you are.” She squeezed his face gently. “I am so proud of you.”

“You forgive me then?” he asked. “For being un petit imbécile?”

“Of course,” Claire sniffled. “As long as you can forgive me for being un grand imbécile.”

“Oui, I can.”

“Oh...come here...” Claire pulled him to her, pushing his head into the crook of her neck, ignoring that he was far too tall for the position now. He didn’t seem to mind either, as he burrowed himself there and returned the embrace. Claire fervently kissed the crown of his head, and she heard him sniffle.

“Mon petite soldat...” Claire whispered into his hair. “Mon fils. Mon fils courageux.”

They stayed like that for a long while, rocking gently and crying silently.

“We...will be alright? Won’t we?”

Fergus slipped out of her grip to look up at her, and for just a moment, she became lost in his eyes, and she swore she was looking at her eleven year old mischief maker.

“Yes, darling,” she answered. “We will.”

And then, in another instant, she could not see her little boy anymore. Before her was someone who was truly becoming a man, and she’d never been more proud or grateful to say it.

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soranihimawari · 3 years

Text

are you serious?

estranged friends to lovers featuring this lovely dude ^ and thanks to some meddling from both sides of their lives, miya atsumu finds out that maybe he should date you. after all, what are you going to do once msby guys see you on the evening news when you make the cut to be the vice captain of the ladies beach vbc olympic team?

warnings: none yet, so sfw for now ;]

+ note: will make this a weekly series if i get enough notes eventually

tagging: @m0nstergeneration20xx

is it serious? --osamu

[[1 new photo]]

those three words illuminate underneath the backlight of his phone screen. the blips play at the strings of his heart. the run-in at the gym was completely by accident and truthfully you weren’t expecting the glow up fairy to fuck with both of your perceptions of the other. both of your posture changes from confusion to flirtatious the moment his eyes illuminate with the recognition.

“who’s your friend atsumu-san?”

you divert your attention to the rest of the rookie teammates while you nod your head acknowledging the oncoming arrival of the other members of the MSBY team. you rapidly exchange greetings and names in an efficient manner.

“i should go. seems like you want to celebrate,” your tone is honey incarnate causing even the ones under the medi-masks to absorb your warmth. “see ya miya-chan.”

when you wave over your shoulder, you shake your head wondering if your heartbeat would stop nervously beating out of rhythm because you caught yourself walking away from the afterglow.

at the restaurant the lads usually buy dinner after another successful victory, the topic of conversation circles back around again to the mystery stranger who had a connection with their starting setter. the team dinner was an idea that everyone including meian thought would be good to have at least once (or twice) a month.

“she’s an old friend,” he bashfully admits.

“that makes you look like a lovesick war hero?” their libero busts his pride a little.

“it’s nothing like that,” bokuto defends, “right?”

miya shrugs and their captain pieces the information together for the rest of the team after being there many times himself before he had settled down with his lady.

“she was your almost,” meian states matter of factly. their ears perk up including atsumu who just stared at his captain registering the word in his head.

“you two seemed pretty close when we arrived,” meian continues. “call it a hunch, but you shouldn’t throw away fate’s design ‘tsum.”

the television in the restaurant moves on to it’s countdown for the upcoming olympics. it creates a certain ambiance of familiarity at the family style restaurant which the team are frequent customers.

“and in other news, seems like the women’s beach volleyball roster has officially been announced,” the anchor says. there is a wide angle shot of the beach courts on the coast of Okinawa.

“Holy shit,” bokuto says and it’s the only time meian allows his team to use such language at their dinner. your sporadic movements on the sand court makes for insane sets for your teammates on the court.

“their young vice captain makes her presence known as her teammate sets the ball to ‘the missile,’ and wow! a clean pipe that proves why the name stuck in the underground leagues. and you can catch up with the rest of the beach volleyball team when the summer games begin next month. now back to you guys in the studio!”

“fuck me, she’s probably more dangerous than omi-san,” meian says finally. atsumu just scoffs at the compliment because he knew there were other monsters in the world, but none that made him more nervous than you.

...

“are you for real?” your roommate exclaims. you tell her about the run-in on the street and she flips. you could of told her you saw the Almighty and she would have an easier time believing that.

“did you at least get his contact info?”

“no! of course not,” you answer with a strained voice. “besides, he hears the banter of his fans everyday, so what difference does it make if he has my number or vice versa.”

“because those compliments came from the vice captain of team japan women’s beach volleyball?”

you laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. after all, you were also watching the news story that was filmed last week tonight with her on the couch. in your wine glasses, you both share the last bit of blueberry powerade because you wanted to be sober in case you’d have to talk to the boy who christened you with the nickname one fall evening in hyogo. sure you were first years, but the bitterness of rivals with clashing styles on the court proved to be a little challenging especially since your schools respectfully had their golden week of training at the same resort.

“your phone is going to start ringing soon,” your friend shares a laugh with you. and usually she’s not wrong, but then again, her closest ally was sitting with her telling her the story of the nickname. the familiar chime of your phone going off caused her to only laugh harder before she watches you scramble to answer.

you shut your door the moment she yells, “no fucking between nine a.m. and five p.m.!”

clearly the other person on the line starts laughing hearing the voice clear as day before he clears his throat. atsumu is finally in the comfort of his own home in his side of the city. he asked his seniors if anyone had a way to contact you, so you were surprised the social media team readily gave him the phone number. funnily enough, it was the same one you had scribbled down on the back of an ice pop receipt.

“you didn’t change your contact number,” he states.

“neither did you,” you said. a half rest of silence comes over you both, but he speaks first again.

“i saw the news tonight with the team.”

“you guys have team dinners? that’s cute.”

you flirtatious remark didn’t go unnoticed, so atsumu decides to hit you with a genuine compliment. it’s the first thought that came to mind when you were younger due to the run in you had with each other at the bathhouse.

“you’re cute.”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t quite catch that miya-senshu. i think you called me cute?”

“i-i...ugh yeah.”

“pfft. if this is you flirting with me, i’d say you are doing a lot better than most of my flings.”

“listen, the guys are going to have my head if i don’t follow through with this, so will ya--”

“meet me at roppengi station at seven tomorrow morning. dress casual.”

there was something in the way you had asked atsumu out in a charming manner he wholeheartedly agrees. after your conversation wraps up, you go about your evening plans of talking with your roommate who is beyond thrilled to tease you about a long-overdue date.

atsumu stares the at clock on his phone before turning on his side thanking his captain for giving him an extra day off from practice tomorrow. according to the way meian explains it simply to their athletic trainer was that their starting setter needed a personal day.

you meet at the appointed location after much deliberation of wearing and you often quote your roommate’s line of, “you need your best ‘professional’ revenge outfit babs.” now that you see what she means as you spot the athlete you bumped into yesterday: long sleeve mocha graphic shirt with the designer house logo stitched on paired with tapered casual friday pants. you on the other hand, are a splash of dark academia styled clothing with sensible shoes.

“and here i thought about leaving you behind on my adventure,” you muse as atsumu gives you a once over. he was over analyzing your silhouette as the rust belt flecks in your eyes decide to taunt him. all his life, he had trouble not focusing on anything other than volleyball related (aside from school work and such), but now he had a transient lady friend look up at him like he was not the local playboy prince of the volleyball club.

“i’d bet good money you wouldn’t because no one would want to hear about me missing morning practice because of a covert date with ya,” he sees the way your eyes narrow a smidge. he knows this stare; he’s seen it before at the training camp because of someone making a snide remark about your financial situation at home. you lead him down the platform and when you board the standing room only train, you both stare at your reflection in the window. your stop is not longer than fifteen minutes away, but you allow atsumu to hold you steady with one hand on your waist and the other on the rail above him. you fill him in on the tour you’re planning to take him down to the shopping district where you know people would go about their days not realizing who they were (celebrity athletes).

“you two look good together, isn’t that right hue?”

“thank you granny,” you said with a smile at the elderly woman who sits a few rows to your left. her husband nods with a funny smile. you really sell it with the way you place your hand over the one he has on your waist when the traini comes to a stop.

you and atsumu, once you make it to the surface head into the east village where you see the local trattorias begin setting their outdoor seating arrangements and one of the servers stops you both asking if you’d like to part take in a taste testing for his family’s restaurant.

“senpai’s amazing,” the server says like it’s the easiest answer he ever had to say. “she paid for auntie’s medicine last time she visited here. you really are lucky to be on a date with her.”

after your orders are put in, atsumu decides for once to not be a complete jackass, somewhere sakusa runs into a butterfly and he chuckles to himself because it means someone was using their brain properly. and in the quiet hours of a local village fifteen minutes away by train, a miya twin is falling back in love with his date one minute at a time.

“are you ok atsumu?” you ask as you pour some apple juice from the carafe into your glass. it was then you had your epiphany the moment he asks you if you’d like to visit his brother’s store on a dinner date before you head out for the taping of the opening ceremonies.

“i’d like that,” you reply. “but let’s make it through this one first, mmk?”

“good because i couldn’t look you in the eye if ya said no star-chan.”

“star-chan?”

you lean back in your chair and tilt your head to the side in thought. your brows furrow together a bit confused by the nickname therefore atsumu enlightens you to the best compliment anyone had given you (in your young adult life):

“because i finally see what meian says when he says he loves the sunspot in his life,” he sheepishly admits. you can tell he was being sincere when you glance at the way he becomes more flustered when you encourage him to hold your gaze for a few seconds.

“seven out of ten,” you say with a rosey lilt in your tone. at this, your companion at the table leans in clearly annoyed with your score. “but given the fact that you’re here with me now at eight twenty on your day off, and the smoothness of that confession, you’re clearly a nine overall because i highly doubt you’re not going to let me go again, right?”

he nods. he finally replies to his message from earlier last week from his brother after taking a self-ca with you on the promenade before you head back to the train station around two in the afternoon.

yeah ‘samu. you could say i am.

[[1 new photo]]

#miya osamu x fem!reader #msby!miya x olympic!reader

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theshelbycurse · 4 years

Text

Escaping Bodyguards

OC Shelby!Sister

Summary: Lyssa Shelby is the twin sister of Finn Shelby and has always been protected fiercely by each and every one of her siblings. On the day of her brother’s wedding, Lyssa finds herself trying to navigate the ways of her protective older brothers while also having a bit of fun.

Warning: swearing, drinking and the tiniest crumb of smut that you can easily skip. (with an OC, NO incest will be happening today people.)

*not my gifs

Words: 5848

Today was the day. Throughout the many trials and tribulations that this family had faced together, Lyssa had to admit the strangest sight she has ever had a chance to witness was her brother, Thomas Shelby, standing in a Church, waiting for his bride.

Growing up in the Shelby clan, was unconventional to say the least. With an illegal betting shop running rampant on a daily basis just underneath her feet, to men with guns turning up on her doorstep for a various sleuth of reasons. It had reached a point where Lyssa would open the door and simply sigh in boredom of the predictability of it all.

Though while most would think that because Lyssa belonged to the most powerful family in Birmingham that her life was filled with excitement and adventures to an enviable amount. But sadly for the fifteen year old that most certainly was not the case. As Lyssa found herself with three and a half (Finn really tries his hardest sometimes) bodyguards spoiling any fun she might have.

Every time so much as a drop of whiskey ends up in her glass, Arthur is the one to steal it from her grasp and finish it off in one annoying gulp. Any time a lad so much as looks in her direction, John has stormed over to go and rob them of their eyes. And if it probably weren’t for Aunt Pol’s words of restraint then Lyssa was sure that all the boys in Birmingham would have been blind

But Tommy, he was by far the worst.

Since the moment that Tommy had locked eyes on the bouncing babe, the heart that he so adamantly denies owning melted to a pathetic little puddle. So from then on he has been by the side of Lyssa Shelby at his every possible moment. Helping her grow and watching her become the beauty that she was today.

But with that came its challenges, Lyssa had true Gypsy blood coursing through her veins that flooded her with this near untamable wildness that had Tommy exhausted at all times. And with age it most certainly got more dangerous, with her desires for partying, drinking and riding until the crack of dawn had paired alongside her looks that got most lads drooling from the corner of their mouths.

But today was different. Lyssa had promised him and Aunt Pol to be on her best behaviour throughout the whole ceremony. Though, Tommy wasn’t exactly going to be placing any bets on it.

The wedding was predictable, the Shelbys all rowdy and noisy, Lyssa’s cheers reaching Tommy’s ears with an unspoken glee over her acceptance to his more than risky choice in wives. And then of course Grace’s more poised side of the family. The calvary suit wearing cowards and their wives all sitting so straight Lyssa was sure that they must be held up by the sticks that were wedged so far up their arses.

The large group of bustling folk all pushed and pulled one another to the steps of the Church afterwards, John dragging Lyssa around with his arm draped over her shoulder as they whispered vulgar jokes to one another. The pair ultimately finding themselves beside Tommy as they grinned up at him with that mischievous glint that had him cursing under his breath.

Once the photo had been taken, the large party found themselves scampering back to Tommy’s large manor for the real fun to begin. Lyssa and Finn sharing gleeful glances to one another, in hopes that they might actually get the chance for some real havoc tonight.

But not even five minutes after entering the house, had Lyssa been dragged by her elbow by none other than her less than gentle eldest brother, Arthur. “What are you doing? I haven’t even done anything.” Lyssa squealed, fighting weakly to get out of Arthur’s tight grip whilst he tugged her throughout the lively party. Her face set in a deep frown, as she watched the envious sight of everything going on around her, with the knowledge that she was most definitely not going to be able to get anywhere near it.

“Yeah, and your not gonna do, are ya?” He not so gently demands, peering down at his wild sister as she makes good effort to avoid any scrutinizing eyes. With a heavy sigh, not in the mood for the taming of her inevitable rebellious tendencies, Arthur continued on his war path towards the meeting he knew was to take place. “This isn’t about you Lyssa. Tom wants a quick family meeting.” He responded, stomping through the maze of the house with John clipping at their heels.

After a fair amount of arguing between the three siblings on the right direction to the kitchen they finally found their way after the guidance of Tommy’s shouts leading them to their destination. Clomping down the stairs the three of them marched over to Tommy, Lyssa finding herself leaning beside Arthur as they waited for whatever this is to be over with.

“Right, boys, Lyssa, you’re all here. Today, this is my fucking wedding day.” Tommy proclaimed like they all weren’t just at the Church watching him take his vows less than 20 minutes ago. Lyssa rolled her eyes, sensing the second round of lectures she was going to get.

“Yeah, and you said there’d be no bloody uniforms.” John retorted, his anger for the red suits being one of the only things John has blabbered on about with Lyssa this entire day.

“Nevertheless- Nevertheless John, despite the bad blood, I’ll have none of it on my carpet. Now for Grace’s sake, nothing will go wrong. Those bastards out there are her family. And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything...”

“Tom? Jeremiah piped up, thankfully breaking Tommy out of boring rant.

“What?!”

“What about snow?” He asked, naively, Lyssa having to bring her hand up to her mouth to stop the giggles from toppling out of her mouth.

“Yeah, their women are sports, I’ll say that.” John joked, ruffling Jeremiah head in a tight amusing headlock, providing Lyssa with just enough distraction to steal the cigarette from Michael’s lips and bring it to her own. Swatting away his attempts to retrieve it back with ease as she let the vile toxins run rampant in her blood.

“No. No. No cocaine.” Tommy’s finger pointing down the line of boys with a set of instructions for each. “No cocaine. No sport.” He told John. “No telling fortunes. No racing.” He told Arthur, moving until he was in front of Lyssa and stealing the cigarette out of her lips and tossing it to the ground with that stern parental stare she loathed.“No drinking. No boys.” He commanded, Lyssa’s eyes growing wide and mouth dropping wide open in an almost comedic sight, ready to object to his ridiculous rules.

But he was already off, moving to Finn without giving her a chance to breathe, grabbing each side of his cheeks in a tight grip. “No fucking sucking petrol out of their fucking cars.” He seethed, spinning around and marching over to Uncle Charlie lounging against the wall casually. “And, you, Charlie, stop spinning yarns about me, eh?”

“I’m just trying to sell you to them, Tom.”

With a hand coming to pinch his eyes, in that typical sign of his overwhelming irritation, Tommy continued. “But the main thing is, you bunch of fuckers, despite the provocation from the calvary, no fighting.” His fury once again, making him step back up to John and Arthur. “No fighting. No fighting. No fucking fighting.” He fumes like a madmen, running up and down the line until he marches back into the center of the kitchen, holding his arms out wide. “No fucking fighting!” His voice bouncing off the porcelain walls with enough might that Lyssa was surprised hadn’t even managed to cause any one of the bustling workers to jump in fright.

Nodding to himself at the satisfying silence, Tommy brought his cigarette to his lips one more time, turning his head to the side to look at Lyssa, red in the face from the injustice she must be feeling. “All good with you, Lyssa?” He questions, clear in his voice that he wasn’t really caring for any opinions that his dear baby sister must feel.

“No wa-” Her objection not even a third of the way out her mouth before she was predictably cut off with a wave of his hand as he stomped his way over to her.

“Good.” His tone final, as he cupped her cheek in his rough calloused hand and put a kiss to her forehead. The scene being abruptly ended by a poor misfortunate waiter mistakenly bumping into the pair, his fate being sealed as Tommy threw him down to the ground in one harsh shove while Arthur chose to throw some miscellaneous glass at the lad.

Yet, while as entertaining as the moment might have been, all Lyssa could think about was how much she wished she was never born a Shelby.

~~~~~~

Night had finally taken over, and despite Tommy’s strict instructions, Lyssa was predictably ignoring them. Though if Tommy thought that Lyssa would have been able to sit through the shit storm that was Arthur’s speech and not down at least an entire bottle of champagne, then he was truly going mad.

With the alcohol warming her blood and the bubbles rising to the tips of her head, Lyssa found herself wandering round and round the many halls of the house until she found herself stumbling outside to sneak a peek at Finn’s riding skills that had apparently been commissioned.

Welcoming the night air into her lungs with a deep inhale, a fluttery grin stretched over Lyssa’s lips as she looked over to the blurry figures all crowding around the fire not too far away. Using the trees as her coverage, Lyssa sneaks to the edge of the party, peering around a large trunk. The alcohol in her veins not making her as foolish to believe that her older brothers wouldn’t crucify her to the spot if they saw she had snuck out to watch the men’s business.

Watching as Finn crossed the finish line with large strides in front of his opponent, Lyssa’s smile grew impossibly larger, following him on his horse as he continues a few more feet before bringing the beast to a stop and dismounting her. Feeling braver in herself, Lyssa takes the potentially foolish move and ventures out of her hiding spot and over to her twin in a mad dash of wild dark curls bouncing in the wind behind her.

“Well, well, well, and I was just starting to think that you were completely useless.” Lyssa teases, her brother whipping his head in the direction of her voice so rapidly he nearly tumbled over his own feet. A sight that already had Lyssa bursting into infectious giggles.

“Lys, what the fuck you doin’ out here? If Tommy spots you-” Finn garbles out, tumbling over his own words as he looks over Lyssa’s shoulder frantically, scared of the thrashing both of them will probably earn if any of their older siblings catch Lyssa stumbling around in the dark. If it wasn’t evident enough, being the twin of Lyssa Shelby was one of the cruelest curses there was, and Finn was very much aware of that.

“Calm down Finn, I thought your recent victory would have you in better moods.” Lyssa jokes, an uncontrollable round of drunken giggles falling out of her lips in the most obvious of ways. The very sight of it, making Finn spout every cuss he knew under his breath.

“And you’re off your fucking arse. That’s just bloody great that is.” He mutters, running a hand down his face like he’s some old fucking soul having to babysit some demon child. It continuing to be absolutely hilarious for Lyssa to witness.

“Jesus Finn, sometimes I think I have more balls than you do.” She jokes playfully, hands coming to rest on Finn’s shoulders as she gives him a light shake. “Come on brother, just let me have fun for only this night, eh?” Pretty blue puppy dog eyes staring hopefully up at him, that Finn was almost sure might even manage to get the likes of stone cold Tommy to bend to her will.

“Yeah, come on Finn, the young lady here is just wanting to have a good time. I vote you let her.” An unfamiliar male voice comes injecting into the air before Finn even had a chance to inevitably cave into her demands. Rowdy laughter falling at its heels as the two siblings turn with furrowed eyebrows to a small group of four or five boys crowding a few steps away from them.

Suit jackets long forgotten, with only their crisp white shirts on display and loose bow ties hanging around their necks while a bottle of dark amber liquid gets passed back and forth between them all. Yet, there was no need for questions on who decided to put their opinion forward, as in the middle of the joyous group laid a man with glistening eyes and a snake charmers smile, both of which being directed on the youngest Shelby.

With a new sense of thrill coursing through her veins, Lyssa turned to the unknown boy with a smirk tugging at her lips while the fire burning beside them created shimmering patterns on her jet black curls. “And I’m guessing you have suggestions on how I should spend this good time.” She teased, not even having to look towards Finn to know the face he was predictably pulling.

“A few come to mind.” He replies, an annoyingly arrogant grin painted on his face as he attempts at closing the gap between them.

Where she was sure that this mystery charmer was expecting the usual routine of girls crashing down on their knees for him after giving them one small ounce of his prestige attention, Lyssa was much too stubborn to fall under some rich boys tricks. “Sorry pretty boy, but if I was to have one night of freedom, I wouldn’t be turning to you.” She retorted, the show of turning her body away from his and back towards an impatiently anxious Finn not fooling many for the need this girl is obviously wanting to be chased.

“And why’s that?” He calls out once more, determination mixed with the necessity to prove his manly bravado to the group of his friend spectating, not faltering his efforts.

Turning her head back towards him with a sickly sarcastic smile, Lyssa couldn’t stop her champagne-filled mind from blurting out the first snarky thing she came up with. “The kind of excitement I’m looking for wouldn’t end in a couple minutes.” That smile of his only seeming to lift higher from the fiery girl’s venomous tongue, while the loud obnoxious laughs and shouts echo behind him from his fellow companions.

Though Finn was in no mood for such amusement, as he quickly spots that familiar hunched over figure marching over to the spot he was regrettably standing. So, with hurried movements, Finn grabs a hold of Lyssa’s shoulder and whispers down in her ear, away from the continued laughter the boys relent in stopping. “Alright I think it’s time you get back inside, yeah? I think I see Arthur coming over.”

With a clarity bursting through her tipsy haze, Lyssa’s eyes grow wider than they already comically were as she mutters a fuck under her breath as her gaze too lands on the unmistakable sight of her moustache owning brother rapidly coming their way. Swiveling around to face her charmer, Lyssa rushes out a somewhat goodbye, “Well, as entertaining as this was, I’ve got to go.”

Without even waiting for the confused ramblings she was certain were going to be called after her shadow, Lyssa’s long lanky limbs sprinted back towards the golden archway beckoning her safety away from overprotective bodyguards. Yet, as predictable as it was annoying, a harsh calloused grip grabs a hold of her elbow and has he stumbling on her feet upon meeting the hard stone-like chest of her unknown creeper.

But Lyssa isn’t given a moment to scramble and fidget against what could possibly be an overzealous drunken taking his chance on an unguarded companion, because their voice quickly squashes any fear and turns it into a completely different emotion entirely. “And what are you doing out ‘ere?” John’s hold on her arm growing to uncomforting levels.

“John, let me go!” Lyssa whined, pulling and tugging against him no matter how futile it was seeming to be.

“Not until you tell me, why me little sister is running round in the dark, stinking of booze worse than fucking me and Arthur put together.” John demanded, and despite having no where near the amount of fear imposing aura that Tommy exudes, he actually managed to cause of flutter of panic in Lyssa.

Stopping her weak attempts to break free, Lyssa’s eyes move sheepishly downcast as she tries to avoid meeting John’s crazed parental stare that she honestly didn’t know he had the capability to possess. “I just wanted to see the races, ok?” She meekly responded, her words coming out slightly muffled and only reducing her to more of a child-like standard.

Finding it near impossible to maintain his gruff persona, especially when his baby sister was looking more and more like that naive little 10 year old she had been when he came back from the war, John relented his grip and blew out a heavy sigh. “Fine, alright, but you best get back inside. There’s some fucking shit happening on tonight and Tommy will have a fucking fit if you get mixed up in it, yeah?” Lifting up her chin with his index finger til she met his gaze, with that new troubling curiosity.

“What’s going on?” She questioned with newfound excitement, the world of the Peaky Blinders always providing her with this bursting want to know more and more, until she possibly couldn’t store all the information away.

Yet, it seemed that thirst for knowledge wasn’t well appreciated by her other family members, as with an unavoidable slap across the back of the head, John cursed her off with a less than gentle shove back in the direction of the golden archway. “What did I just fucking say? Get back inside.” And with her better judgement, Lyssa went on her way back inside, unbeknownst to the fascinated eyes trailing behind her.

~~~~~~

Lyssa had actually managed to listen to her brother this time, knowing just the one thing not to fuck with was, business. As despite the many adventures of her life and the many troubles she has tumbled in, never once has she been brazen enough to battle with the dangerous underworld her family seemed to encompass.

Tommy saw to it that the littlest of his siblings stayed in the shadows of the gangsta lifestyle he committed himself to, the only gift they were given being a silent bystander in the background of family meetings out of the courtesy the title has. Family. But otherwise, Lyssa and Finn were to keep their hands clean from the blood and dirt, that he was sure would have rottened them down until they were just as broken as the three worn torn brothers battling their demons at every crossroads.

Granted he may have been more lenient when it came to the activities he chose to include Finn in, but no chance between an inch of his life would he ever beckon Lyssa into it. And he did to warn her as such at every opportunity that was given to him.

So, with the new damper in moods, Lyssa saw it best to camp out in Tommy’s office alongside a large bottle of champagne. It being the safest of whereabouts in order to not accidentally tumble onto a scene she should very much not be anywhere close to, so as to avoid a thrashing from either her aunt or brother that would have the back of her head sore in the morning to come.

Roaming around the large - potentially obnoxious - room, Lyssa lazily snooped through all the pictures littering the mantles whilst taking leisurely sips from the bottle in her hand. Not even taking too much notice to the sound of the creaking door being opened behind her.

“And here I was thinking that I had simply made you up.” A voice called out, that same voice that secretly nearly had her swooning earlier in the night. It causing her to spin on her heels to look at the painfully stunning boy leaning against the door with one hand on the handle.

“Did I really hurt your ego that badly that you’ve come searching for me?” She teased, that playful smile crossing her face once more as she watched him daringly inch further into the room and shut the door to a solid close behind him. A perfect smile of his own sitting on the corner of his lips so enticingly.

“More my pride.” He replied, his feet taking him further into the fire lit room while Lyssa remained off to the side, eyes never falling apart from one another.

“You’re a prideful man then? I must saw I was hoping for something not quite so predictable.” Lyssa snarked back, breaking off the locked gaze as she moved herself over to Tommy’s large desk to fully lean on, the painfully constrictive shoes forcing her feet with some much needed relief.

“So you admit that you were hoping for something?” He switched back onto her, that damn smile too dazzling to not draw Lyssa back in to that equally as dazzling face.

“I admit nothing.” Lyssa surprised by her own control to keep her voice level and chin pointed upwards, even with his continued path gaining closer and closer to small frame.

A small breathy laugh leaves his lips at her unwavering stance, the sound being enough for Lyssa’s grip round the bottle to tighten ever so slightly. It was really beginning to irritate her slightly that nearly everything he did seemed to make him more attractive.

“To answer your question, if I’m a prideful man? The answer is no.” The proximity between them melting until it was nearly nothing, his hand coming to unlatch hers from around the champagne bottle to put it on the desk beside her. His warm breath fanning Lyssa’s rosy cheeks. “But you set me a challenge. And I’m never the one to back down from a challenge.”

He was towering over her now, hands coming to gingerly place themselves on either side of her waists while hers remain frozen to her sides, all of Lyssa’s brain function flying out the window. She was shocked that she was capable of uttering out any more words. “I don’t remember any challenge.” Her voice just above a whisper at this point, as if they were in a bustling room trying to keep their conversation quiet enough so they would be the only ones that could hear it.

In an action that made an audible gasp come falling out of Lyssa’s mouth, his hands on her waist tightened and lifted her up and onto the desk with his new place being found between her newly opened legs. All sense of space completely banished as her hands came to grip on his most likely expensive suit jacket while his remained fierce on her waist.

Lips a mere inch from one another, Lyssa’s darkened eyes found his as he uttered his next words. “You reckoned I could only last a couple minutes. I’m here to prove you just how wrong you are.” Without a moment even to let his words sink in, his lips were crashing into Lyssa’s, no tender moment shared but only a lust filled battle for dominance that the Shelby was happy in conceding in.

Her hands winding up to take purchase in the soft tendrils of his hair on the back of his neck, her sharp nails digging in roughly that left a gaspy growl fall into her mouth. His movements not being any gentler as the grip on her waist tightened impossibly firmer, pulling her into his hard chest while remaining seated on the desk.

With nearly all the air being sucked dry from their lungs, both parties pulled away only by a hair, their heavy breathing filling the silence that is quickly replaced by an abrupt breathy moan coming out of Lyssa’s mouth as he moves down to place hot wet kisses down the length of her neck. Expertly finding the sensitive spot just in the crook of her neck, below her earlobe, causing a euphoric feeling of bliss taking form in a multitude of quiet moans filling the air.

The sound being enough for Lyssa to feel the breathtaking feeling of his hard cock beginning to bulge against the warmth of her inner thing. Greedy hands moving quickly to rid him of the belt constricting him away from her, the action alone admitting another guttural growl out of him as he moves his own hands down to her soft thighs.

Mouths finding each other once again while the final pieces of clothing are stripped away from their most sensitive areas, Lyssa’s moans erupting in his mouth as she feels his cock aline to her slits. And with one slightly unexpected thrust, Lyssa wasn’t able to quieten herself as yet another moan slips out into the empty office. It echoing off the walls forcing her to move her mouth to his shoulder to muffle the noise, whilst he continued on with his mind fogging thrusts, getting deeper and harder at each movement.

However, just as Lyssa began to feel the uphill climb begin towards her climax, the grand door blocking them off from the rest of the party comes swinging open in a rapid succession. The action immediately setting both Lyssa and....the boy who she has realised remained nameless throughout... into hurried and clumsy movements as they bounced off of each other and attempted of sorting their clothes in a stupidly inconspicuous fashion.

With the worst dread she has ever felt in her entire life, Lyssa locked eyes with Tommy, sliding off his desk and flattening out the end of her skirt with an awkward and uncomfortable smile stretching on her lips. She just watched Tommy stand there, his jaw visibly tight as his cold eyes continuously flicked back and forth between herself and the boy with his back turned to him still as he continued to readjust his cock back into his pants.

The silence of it all torturous as Lyssa waited for Tommy to do something; whether that be to start screaming or pull the gun she knew he had hidden somewhere around his office and end the poor lads life right where he stood. “What is this then?” His voice chilling Lyssa straight down to her bones as he wafted his hand between the two of them, it terrifying her so deeply that all the words in her vocabulary had simply escaped her. It leaving her mouth to simply open and closed like some sort of pathetic fish thirsting for oxygen.

“Eh?” He prompted, eyebrows raised so high that they were nearly falling under his hair. Heavy footsteps storming closer to the door left wide open, only to slam it close in a thunderous clap that reminded Lyssa of the storms that used to terrorize her as a child. “You see, cause from where I’m standing-” His footsteps bringing him back into the centre of the room, his eyes blazing fury as he meets Lyssa doe eyed gaze. “It looks like that I walked in on me 15 year old sister getting fucked by some stranger, on me own desk, in me own house, on my own fucking wedding night!!” He roared, his presence trapping Lyssa against the desk as he stood a mere two steps away from her, like the true lion that he is looming over his prey.

“Mr Shelby, if I may say that I’m sorr-” The boy sputtered out, not even being able to get his flimsy excuse of an apology out before Tommy quickly strays away from Lyssa and goes marching over to him.

Tommy’s hands find themselves wound tightly around the poor lads neck, pushing him into the hard wooden wall behind him with such might that it has him already gasping with a necessity to breathe instantaneously. Ignoring the shouts Lyssa gives him from her place against the desk, Tommy’s hands dangerously tighten as he leans further into the struggling boy’s face. “If you are not out of this house in 30 seconds, then me and me brothers are going to start slicing pieces off of you until no girl is ever going to be able to stomach looking at that face of yours again.” Giving him one last knock against the solid wall before he forces him to meet Tommy dead in his ice blue eyes. “Is that clear?”

His dark threats gaining a hurried nod from the boy, before he is quickly scampering out the room the moment Tommy relented his life threatening grip. The speed he was moving in that would’ve proven comical to Lyssa under literally any single other circumstance then the mortifying one she found herself drowning in.

The moment that the doors once again slammed with a heavy bang, Tommy managed to turn his attentions back onto his little sister, that same questioning look from before still painted on his features as their gazes locked onto each others. “So?” He prompts, motioning with his hands in an annoyed attempt to start hearing whatever tales and excuses she has on the tip of her tongue.

Though, while Lyssa usually finds herself fully capable of combating any person, in any situation, with her witty remarks and scathing snars, she find herself for once in her life with a complete blank slate on what it is she could possibly respond with that wouldn’t make this all horrifyingly worse. “I’m not quite sure what you want me to say.”

Retreating back into the cold, quietly threatening state that Tommy so loved to impose on his sister, his ice blue gaze burrowed deep into the meak facade Lyssa tried to defend herself with. “How ‘bout you start with telling me how long it’s been going on.” He not so subtly demands of her, the thought of what she has been doing for god knows how long making his jaw clench into near teeth shattering tenseness.

“How long what’s been going on? I just met the lad tonight! I-” Lyssa retorts back, her voice already raising to risky levels.

“Hey!” He cuts her off, striding back towards Lyssa with a finger pointing right into the center of her face. “I have about a million fucking things going on right now and so one thing I really don’t need is your fucking cheek!” He boomed, only lowering his voice for a mere quarter of a second as his eyes grow scarily dark peering into Lyssa’s icy blue. “Now you’re going to explain to me why you think it’s right that you can go around fucking whoever you fancy like some common whore, when you are only 15 years old!”

As the words leave Tommy’s mouth, all thoughts of fear for the wrath of Tommy Shelby dissipated into nothing but an overwhelming rage that was tearing up her insides into flares of flames. Pushing against his chest with a mighty shove, Lyssa watched as he stumbled with a deep satisfaction. “God, can you hear the amount of fucking hypocrisy-”

“Look at you using fancy words. At least I know that you’re still going to school.” Tommy snarks, antagonising her to the furthest of her wits end. The feeling of literal smoke coming out of her ears sounding too much like reality.

“Fuck off.” She spits, marching right back up to his face with that infamous Shelby anger waging a war inside of her. “You know we are literally standing in a house you share with your new wife who I’m sure wasn’t the one to be waiting for any vows to spread her legs open for you. I mean there’s fucking living proof sleeping just above our heads yet I don’t see you calling her a fucking whore!”

Hands gripping onto her jaw with a bruising force, Tommy seethed, “Oi, you say another word-.”

Shoving his hands away from her, Lyssa let out a breathy humorless laugh. “Yeah I get it Tom. Big bad scary Tommy Shelby’s going to set me out straight. You don’t have to say any more.”

A deafening silence rung in the air for much longer than was comfortable, both siblings simply staring at one another with harsh heavy breathing being the only thing that was left to fill the room any more. “Right.” Tommy muttered, reaching into his pockets for his trusty cigarettes. “You are obviously having too much fucking freedom down in Small Heath. So, starting tomorrow, I’m sending a few boys to come and pack up all your stuff to bring here. You’ll be living under my fucking roof, where I can keep an eye on you and where there are gonna be some strict fucking rules, that starting from now, you are going to follow.” Tommy listed off, that calm business-like stature oozing off of him in infuriating waves.

Knowing that she was fighting against a losing battle, Lyssa tried to object in the service of her pride. “Tom, you can’t be serious!”

“Oh I am, and if I here that you have been running off with any sort of boy, then you will get the fucking thrashing of your fucking life. Do I make myself clear?” Tommy threatened, and by this point Lyssa was not brave enough to combat against his dark intimidations.

“Yes.” She uttered, any sort of adrenaline wearing off of her tired bones as she lazily met Tommy’s gaze with little interest.

Tommy stood there studying her for a second longer, wondering if some sort of second wind was going to hit her. But with the pleasant silence, Tommy simply motioned to the door with equally as tired movements. “Good, now go up to the guest bedroom and sleep it off. Hopefully the hangover tomorrow will serve you as a good start to your punishment.”

And so she did. Lyssa trudged through the party that was only beginning to wind down and up the grand staircase and into the room that had been assigned to her, only this morning. Flopping face first on the comforting mattress, willing sleep to guide her away from the madness of the Shelby clan and into a world of her wildest fantasies. Neither Tommy or Lyssa knowing the fate that had been sealed for her that night as new plots thicken and new enemies crawl out of their shadows with her position has now being maneuvered into the firing line.

~~~~~~

A/N So this is my first post on here. I’ve written fanfics before on Wattpad and stuff but the format on here is so different so I’m unsure how I feel about it so I would love some feedback and if anyone would like some more moments from Lyssa and the Shelby’s please hit me up

#peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy x grace #season 3 #arthur shelby #john shelby #polly gray #michael gray #oc #oneshot #ada shelby #smut #angst #fanfic

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superpuppies · 4 years

Text

Hobbit High

Chapter 11: Leaving

Fandom- The Hobbit

Characters- Ori X Dwalin, Bilbo X Thorin, Fili, Kili, Dori, Nori, Gandalf, Thlandral, Lagolas

Rating- PG 13

Word count- 2,996

Archive Link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/10027448/chapters/57584533#workskin

Summary- The time had come for Ori to come home, but he and Dori have a few things talk about. Nori becomes the middle man for Dwalin, Dori and Ori and he just isn't sure he can handle that job.

Hey all, here’s the newest from my mind, please keep in mind that I do have dyslexia and I really do try to fix all spelling mistakes but some will always slip through. If you spot some please let me know and I will do my best to correct it. Thank you.

Over the next three days when Dori came to visit Ori, Ori’s relative calmness would vanish and a heavy sedative would have to be used again. At the end of his rope Dori asked Mrs. Stealbuster to be his eyes and ears, she happily agreed. Dwalin was less happy about the news as this now meant he would be the one going up the hospital to get her each day. While Nori, after trying and failing to get a few days off from school, was preparing to rain holy hell down on the twins only to find that they had already been suspended. Thorin had walked Bilbo everywhere until they heard that the twins where suspended for three weeks and Dori had officially pressed charges.

The next Friday Sharif Stealbuster came into the school as the last classes were wrapping up and found Dwalin and the gang. “Thorin.” He nodded at the boy who had is arms looped around Bilbo’s neck. “You and I need to talk, lad. Your father’s lawyer will meet us at the station.”

“Oh.” Thorin straitened up.

“Damn, Thorin what did you do?” Nori laughed elbowing Thorin’s side playfully while Bilbo looked up at him concerned.

“He didn’t do anything; we just need his statement and the lawyers just going to make sure we don’t badger it out of him.” The Sharif interjected before the situation could get out of hand. “Dwalin gave his to Tommy the other day and I’ll be seeing you later tonight Bilbo”

Bilbo visibly relaxed. “Okay”

“Good, so Nori and Dwalin will drop you at home before heading to the hospital.” The Sharif turned to his son. “Ori’s supposed to come home today so you’re going to have to help your mother get him situated.”

“Wha”

“So, he’s staying with you then?” Nori asked cutting off Dwalin’s confusion.

“We’re going to try taking him home, see how he does, if there are issues we’ll move him over to our place.”

Nori smirked. “Still not talking to Dori.”

“Adamantly refuses to see him, but excited to go home.”

“I’m sure.” Nori laughed turning and walking away. “Come on Bilbo. Let’s go!”

Bilbo detached himself from Thorin and tightened his hold on his bag strap before popping up on to his toes to place a quick kiss on Thorin’s cheek. Thorin smiled as Bilbo ran to catch up with Nori. Meeting Dwalin’s sad gaze Thorin smirked. “Jealous much?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Dwalin grumbled turning away from Thorin and his father to follow Bilbo and Nori.

Dwalin and Nori sat in the front seat of the silver four door sedan in front of 1937 Gollum Ct. waiting for Bilbo to get into the house. With a quick, “Tell Ori I’ll come see him tomorrow.” Bilbo walked through the door with a wave. Nori returned the wave as Dwalin pulled away from the curb.

They drove in silence for most of the trip until Dwalin asked quietly. “Why isn’t Ori talking to Dori?”

“Because he super betrayed Ori.”

Dwalin rolled his eyes. “How so?”

Nori turned to face Dwalin. “As you may have gathered, Ori hates and I do mean hates hospitals.”

“Yeah. I picked up on that.”

“Right, and Dori made a promise to Ori a long time ago that he would never take Ori to one.”

“Oh. kay”

“Yeah.”

“Can… Can I ask why Ori hates hospitals so much?”

Nori sighed and looked out the front window, just as Dwalin was about to apologize for being nosey, Nori began. “Ori was in the car with our parents when they were hit, came out of it with a broken arm and only a few bruises and scratches. Mom and dad weren’t so lucky and the whole mess about if Dori was going to keep us or not started while Ori was still in the hospital. So already not great but the real problem was that some dickhead new nurse told Ori rather tactlessly when no one was with him that our parents where dead. And now” Nori sighed heavily. “Well now he has this deep seeded, highly misguided guilt complex that makes him believe if he’s in the hospital someone is going to die.”

“Oh Shit. That sucks.”

“Yeah, yeah it does.” Nori looked over at Dwalin and smiled at the sad look on his friends face, reaching over he poked Dwalin’s cheek. “But you have to stop being a sad panda ‘cause you just might get to have your new boy toy in your house.” Dwalin swatted Nori’s hand away and avoided looking at him. “What’s this? No indignant. ‘You shouldn’t talk about him like that’ or some extremely dirty retort that’s super out of character for you?” Dwalin didn’t respond. Nori narrowed his eyes and growled. “God, tell me you’ve seen him.” Dwalin shook his head ‘no’. “Damn it, Dwalin! Like this isn’t hard enough on him!”

“He doesn’t want to see me! I’m the reason he’s in there!” Dwalin shouted.

Nori growled and punched Dwalin’s shoulder, hard. “Get over yourself. He finally gets a relationship with you and as soon as he makes an idiot of himself you disappear. What the hell do you think he’s going to think? I can tell you; he’s not going to think it’s because you’re a fucking pansy, that’s for damn sure.”

“I-I, oh… shit.”

“Damn straight! So this is what you’re going to do, when we get there I’m going to help your mom with something out of the room and you, you are going to talk to him.”

“Okay, dad.” Dwalin grumbled.

“Fortifie!” Nori ejaculated fist pumping the air.

Dori was leaning against the nurse’s station counter filling out the discharge paperwork when the elevator door opened revealing Nori and Dwalin. “Hey Dori, I didn’t know you were going to be here.” Nori said with a smile walking over to his brother as he gave Dwalin a shove down the hall.

“Don’t tell him I’m here.” Dori said sadly barely glancing up from the paperwork. “I’m just filling out the paperwork so you can take him home.”

“Ooo, that bad.”

Dori nodded his head with a sigh. “I just don’t want to start something that will keep him from coming home.” He put down his pen and looked up at Nori defeated and desperate. “Just let them in, help them get him settled and give Mrs. Stealbuster your keys, she’s going to be coming over to keep an eye on him during the day. Just, just don’t run off today, can you do that for me?”

“Yeah, okay.” Nori patted Dori’s shoulder.

Dwalin gently wrapped his knuckles against the open door before stepping into the room; Mrs. Stealbuster looked up from the small bag on her lap and smiled at her son. Dwalin twitched his lips into a small smile at her before turning to look at Ori who was dozing softly on the bed. “They gave him a light sedative to help keep him calm for the change over.” His mother offered, Dwalin simply nodded.

“Do you want me to take that?” Dwalin indicated her bag with a quick hand gesture.

“No, you need your hands free to help with him.” She smiled a knowing smile at him, at which he frowned. Nori walked into the room fallowed by two nurses. Dwalin and Nori helped the nurses load a sleepy Ori into a wheelchair and then the small group started for the door.

Nori waved ‘goodbye’ to the Stealbusters as they drove away before heading back up to Ori’s room. Stealing a pillow from under Ori’s head and tossing it on the floor he settled in, to wait either for Ori to wake up or for Dori to come home. Ori rolled onto his side with a grumble as Nori pulled the pillow out from under him. Nori pulled his laptop out and poked Ori’s leg a few times while it booted up, Ori sleepily swatted at him. Nori smirked took out his phone and snapped a quick sleepy, recovering baby brother selfie to post on his blog.

Dori pulled into the drive way at five forty-five and simply sat looking up at Ori’s window for a good fifteen minutes. He wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing, he felt for the Durin boys they had done something stupid that could potentially follow them for at least a good chunk of their life. But at the same time Ori was in the hospital and apparently this wasn’t the only incident with the twins. So sure he felt for the boys but they had brought this on themselves. Not only was he fighting with that, there was the cold fear that he too could be blamed and lose custody of Nori and Ori over the whole ordeal. This was only exasperated by the fact that Ori blatantly refused to see him let alone speak with him. With a frustrated scream Dori finally unbuckled his seat belt and headed for the house grabbing the bags of Mexican take out as he did.

Nori closed his laptop and leveraged himself up when he heard the front door open. “So are you going to come get something to eat or are you just going to continue pouting?” Nori asked the poorly pretending to sleep Ori who simply ignored him. Nori shrugged “More for me.” and headed down the stairs, he found Dori in the kitchen pulling some plates down from the cabinet. “Senor Dragon’s! Nice!”

“How’s Ori doing?” Dori asked reaching for some glasses.

“He seems fine just lying in bed pretending to be asleep, being a pouty little baby, you know.” Nori snagged a fresh corn chip out of the bag and hummed approvingly at the warmth of it.

“He hasn’t talked to you at all?” Nori just shook his head crunching another chip. Dori sighed. “Well do you think he’ll object if I bring him a burrito?”

“Yes,” Nori pulled the foil wrapped burritos out of the bag. “which one’s his?”

“Yes.” Dori said dejectedly, causing Nori to look up.

“Yeah, come on Dori he won’t talk to me and I’m not the one who forced him into the hospital.”

“But I,”

“Yeah I know, I know. But you know how he is and it’s going to take some time. But hey now that he’s out it should go easier.” Nori jerked the burritos at Dori.

“I hope so, the middle one I think.”

“Okay, be right back.” Nori dropped the other two burritos and bounded up the back stairs.

Ori sat against the wall on his bed staring at the far wall. He felt stupid; he had felt stupid since this whole debacle started and more over for not talking to his brothers. But he, they had, Ori was just so angry with them he couldn’t understand how they could do this to him. Okay, so he could but he really didn’t like it. “Burriiiiiitooooo!” Nori sang as he walked the hall, Ori sighed as he prepared for the ensuing ridiculous song that was meant to get him to join them down stairs. Nori jumped through the door with another “Buurriiittooooo!” Ori watched waiting to see where Nori was going to take this musical journey.

Seeing the rather unamused look on Ori’s face Nori decided to take this in a whole different direction, straightening up he held the burrito on an open palm. “Burrito?” He offered the item to Ori who eyed him suspiciously for a long moment then gingerly reached up to take it. Nori pulled it back at the last moment. “Oh, I’m sorry this is for my brother, not the whiny little brat who is currently occupying his room.” Ori glared at Nori with a low grumble in the back of his throat. “So, if you see him let him know that Dori’s got all his favorites downstairs.”

“He can’t buy me off with food!” Ori snapped.

“He’s not trying to.” Nori snapped back, then took a deep breath and shrugged. “He’s just trying to say he’s sorry.”

“But he isn’t!”

“You don’t know that.” Ori huffed with disbelief. “No, you don’t.” Nori’s voice bore down on him pinning him to the bed. “You haven’t listened to a damned thing he’s said since you went into the hospital. If you let him speak to you at all, most of the time you would just freak out as soon as you saw him making him freak out and run off.” Ori chuckled sarcastically at the idea of Dori running away from anything even if he had seen it himself. “He’s worried about you.” Nori continued ignoring the rudeness of Ori’s laugh. “Ori, he has been nothing but worried about you.”

“If he was so concerned, he shouldn’t have put me in this situation in the first place.”

Nori huffed. “Yeah, Okay. But then I would just be having this conversation with your gravestone.”

“You don’t know that!”

“True, but Dori believes it.” Ori stopped shaking his head angrily and stared at Nori. “He’s sorry. He was and is worried about you. He just wanted you safe.” Ori didn’t move or make a sound. “O-kay, so when you get hungry enough to put up with him, come on down” Nori turned and walked out of the room a smug little smirk sliding onto his face but only once he was sure he was out of view.

Nori dropped Ori’s burrito on the counter and picked up the plate of chips, rice and his own burrito that Dori had put together for him. “I thought you were giving that to Ori.” Dori said from the table.

“He’ll be down soon.” Nori settled at the table and began to eat.

“He will?” Dori’s shock made Nori give a chuckling humming nod of agreement. “How?”

“When he’s hungry enough he’ll come down.”

“Oh” Dori’s face fell as he picked up a chip. “You’re forcing him.”

“No.” Nori said around a bite of burrito. “He can just go hungry if he wants.”

“Nori.”

“What? You want him down here, I’m getting him down here, just give it a few.” Dori shook his head at Nori. He knew he should probably reprimand him for this but he just didn’t have the energy for it.

Almost twenty minutes later Ori made his way softly and slowly into the kitchen, he stood for a moment looking around a bit lost. Dori perked up a bit at his appearance. “Ori, are you hungry?” Ori ignored Dori’s question finally spotting his burrito on the counter. “What do you want to drink?” Dori asked beginning to stand, Ori simply ignored him again, Nori reached out and stopped Dori rising. Nori stood and walked over to Ori, taking the burrito from Ori’s hand as he pulled down a plate and reheated it waiting for Ori to sit.

“Tea?” Nori asked as he moved around the kitchen.

“Yes, thanks.” Ori answered sitting down at the opposite end of the table from Dori. Dori’s hart dropped into his stomach as Ori answered Nori, proving that it wasn’t just him being too tired to bother speaking but that he just didn’t want to speak to Dori.

Ori watched his eldest brother from under his lashes, a small part of him was pleased to see the devastation on Dori’s face but the rest of him felt terrible for being the reason it was there. God, he was bad at guilt trips. Nori placed a full plate and glass of iced tea in front of Ori then plopped back into his seat to finish his meal. Ori dug into his own plate, observing his oddly silent brothers. It made him feel very… strange.

Nori leaned back and popped his shoulders, he was starting to feel claustrophobic, a wall of worry and depression on his right and a cloud of unease and tension on his left. This was going to take time to fix but he didn’t know if he had the fortitude to make it through. He needed something to lighten the mood, anything. “So,” he turned to Ori, “did you have a good chat with Dwalin?” an excited spark in his eyes. Ori’s eyebrows knitted together with genuine confusion as he lifted his head to look at his brother.

“Dwalin never talked to me.”

“Oh, for fuck sake!” Nori flung his head back with a frustrated growl.

“Why would he?” Ori asked softly.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” Nori stood, angrily clearing his plate in an attempt to give his frustration a place to go. “I gave him the perfect opportunity and he just pansies out like the fucking moron that he is!” Ori and Dori watched Nori’s frustrated rant with countering emotions. Ori was more confused and concerned as he wondered what Nori thought Dwalin had to say to him. While Dori fought to keep a smirk off his face, he was far from happy to hear that Nori was continuing to encourage Dwalin but he was very happy to hear that Dwalin was the reason for his own failings. Nori had explained what he knew of the apparently blooming relationship between Ori and Dwalin and it had been a very long and loud conversation. It had only ended when a frustrated Nori had growled that Dori could completely lose Ori if he couldn’t get past his own hang ups. Dori frowned at the memory and glanced over at Ori. He was more shocked then he supposed he should have been to see the confusion and self-doubt in Ori’s eyes.

Nori stomped around in the kitchen while Ori sank further into himself, with a sigh Dori said comfortingly. “Maybe he just doesn’t know how to say what he needs to.” Nori paused and looked over at Dori wondering if the pod people had finally managed to replace his brother, while Ori sighed heavily and shrugged still not sure what they thought Dwalin would want to say to him anymore.

#the hobbit #ori #Dori #Nori #the brothers ri #dwalin #dwalin x ori #dwori #thorin #thorin x bilbo #Bilbo Baggens #fili #Kili #fanfiction #AU Highschool

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trashinaglass-archive · 5 years

Text

Out of Love

Tom and y/n fall out of love and film a video to explain to the fans

Request: Hi ya! Could you possibly do an imagine based on Liza’s and David Dobriks break up where Tom and the reader are everyone’s favorite couple but they break up and keep it a secret from everybody and eventually they start telling people like his family, Harrison, cast mates, and eventually the fans. They are heartbroken over it and surprised they faked it for a couple months. Also maybe Tom breaks down while telling people cause he’s sad but understands it has to happen. Thank you so so much!

A/n: You guys really like break up fics omg. I’m not really a Liza/David Dobrik fan (that’s kinda a lie, I mean I don’t watch Liza but I do watch David every now and then) so I haven’t seen the video, but I’ll go off the small clips and stuff I’ve seen online of it.

“What happened?”

Tom was sat at his family dinner, explaining that after three years of dating, you two decided to break up. “We just aren’t meant to be together,” he shrugged. “We’d both felt out of touch and that it just wasn’t working anymore. No bad blood, no hurt feelings- just the end.”

“Will you two continue to hang around each other? Be friends?” Sam asked more for himself than Tom.

“Yeah, we are, and nothing will change between you guys either. Don’t think you can’t hang out with her anymore because of this.”

“Are you guys going to make an announcement online or something?” Harry asked. As much as you weren’t one for PDA, you also weren’t afraid to share your relationship with the public. His fans knew of your relationship and they really supported it. Breaking the news to them was going to be the hardest part of this whole ordeal.

“Yeah. Just because of how much of our relationship was shared, we feel like it’s only right to give them an explanation as well,” Tom nodded his head.

Dom scoffed and shook his head. “I hate that your lives are so out there now, you can’t even keep a breakup to yourself.”

“But we support you,” Nikki chimed in. “And we’re here for you if you need us.”

“Thanks, Mum,” he smiled, looking down at his dinner.

Three days later, Tom found himself walking into your flat. You were in the living room, sat on the floor in front of the sofa as you set up your camera and other equipment for the video.

“Need any help?” Tom asked, making his presence known.

“Yeah. Can you actually sit here so I can check the camera- make sure it’s at the right height?” Tom nodded, sitting where you previously were as he watched you double check your equipment. “Okay, it’s set. Ready to film?”

“What are we saying?” He asked for clarification.

“We’ve broken up, we’re still friends, if we’re out- it’s nothing special, blah blah blah?” You shrugged. “I figure just go for it, make it authentic rather than worrying about scripting it and saying the right thing.”

“Works for me,” Tom nodded. You clicked film and sat next to him, fixing your hair before talking. “Do I have anything in my teeth?”

You looked as Tom grit his teeth. “No, do I?” You did the same, Tom laughing as he said no and faced the camera again.

“Hey guys- if you’re watching this video, I’m sure you know who we are. We wanted to make this video as an explaination to you guys so you know what’s going on. I feel like a lot of our relationship was put into the open, and you guys invested in us and were a big part of our relationship, and I feel it’s only fair to do this for you,” you began.

“You supported us through our relationship, which I can’t tell you how incredibly grateful I am for that- y/n probably as well, but I just ask that you can support us through this as well,” Tom added. “We’ve spent just about three and a half years together dating, but we’ve decided that we should break up.”

You felt tears begin to well in your eyes at the realization that this was really happening. “Well, shit,” you laughed, wiping your eyes.

“Aw, that sad to be leaving me?” Tom joked, rubbing your arms.

“No, I’m that sad to be this close to you,” you joked back before shaking your head, trying to slow the tears but ultimately failing. “I feel like falling in love is something that everyone talks about, you expect it and it’s exciting, but no one really tells you about falling out of it. I feel like that’s heartbreaking in its own way, you know? I loved you, we had a love and it was beautiful and fun, but we couldn’t hold onto it.”

“Yeah,” Tom nodded in agreement, giving you a chance to calm yourself. “It’s something that you look back on, wish you could still have, but it’s just not there anymore. And it’s a difficult feeling to undertake, but you know, we’re still friends. I support you, and I want nothing but the best for you- but I understand that it won’t be me.”

“And it won’t be me,” you agreed, nodding your head. You gasped as you noticed tears falling from Tom’s eyes. “Wow, you actually do have a heart,” you joked making Tom look down with a laugh, wiping his eyes as more came out. “We are friends, we will be around each other, it just won’t be in the way it used to be. I do still love you, and I will continue to support you in everything that you do, but I’ll be on the same pedestal as Harrison and Tuwaine.”

“Yeah. I just want to ask that you guys be respectful of y/n and myself, be courteous of our feelings going forth. We’re definitely still going through the motions and any little can make or break us right now. If one of us needs time to reflect or grow, just understand where we’re coming from.”

“And please don’t attack any future partners,” you added, not looking at Tom. “We know how much love you guys invested in us, I know there were a lot of fans talking about wanting us to get married. Maybe that could happen in the long run, who knows? The world is one huge fuckery, but as it stands right now, we very well may date other people. We want you guys to understand that’s what we need as two young people and to not say anything you wouldn’t want to hear about your own partner.”

“Yeah,” Tom agreed, looking at you as you looked down. “But yeah, thank you for your support. We love you guys, and we hope you still have that support to give us now.”

“Please send all the good vibes.” You both smiled sadly, waving to the camera before sitting back to the couch. You put your hands to your eyes, catching the tears before they fall. Without a word, Tom grabbed you, pulling him into you as you both cried into each other.

You stood there for who knows how long, eventually pulling away to look at the other. “Okay,” you said, wiping the final tears from your eyes. “I’ll edit it, post it when it’s done.”

“Alright. I had plans to get dinner with the lads tonight so I better head out. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Sam and Harry still going?” You asked, making sure the twins would still want to see you after the break up news.

“Yeah, definitely,” Tom nodded.

“Great. I’ll see you guys then,” you told him, Tom nodding before walking out of the flat.

As much as you wished you still had what you started with, you felt comfort in the breakup. Filming the video was hard, but it was almost as if a sense of freedom came from it. An unhealthy relationship wasn’t holding you back. You didn’t have to worry about faking a smile around anyone. You could be yourselves without a filter again. You didn’t have to be y/n & Tom- you were simply y/n and Tom.

Taglist: @lucychg @yourwonderbelle @rageyoudamnednerd @maliburumofficial @cutiepiemimi13 @happywolves81 @lifeandloveandhappiness @madeinthemidnightmemories @castellandiangelo @meaganjm @spnobsessedmemes @h-oneyholland @babylsn @harrydesires @xxtomxo @lizzyclifford13-blog @green-lxght @zabdisamor @takemetooneverlanddd @rororo06 @carat1uv @delicately-important-trash @thegirlwithpaperheart @bad268 (add yourself here)

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland blurb #tom holland x reader

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chuffyfan87 · 4 years

Text

Hiding. Part 83a (NSFW)

Cowritten with @disastrousintention.

-x-

It had been a funny old week but it was suddenly the day of the combined Halloween and housewarming party and the children were excited to be having a party! The twins couldn’t stop squealing and giggling. The decorating of the house was in full swing. Charlie was watching Duffy from afar, practically perving on her backside as he held Paul in his arms.

Duffy was fully aware that her husband's gaze was firmly on her, however much he tried to pretended to be otherwise occupied. As such she made a point of slowly bending from the waist to pick things up from the floor, her back towards him, rather than crouching down.

He stepped closer to her. Distracted by her, once again.

"We'll never get this house decorated in time if you just stand around gawping." She giggled without turning around.

“I’m simply admiring the very attractive view in my eye line.” He answered back.

"Wait til you see my costume." She teased, wiggling her bottom as she stood up.

“Ooh, am I going to be in a bit of a mess?” He asked, rubbing Paul’s back.

"Well I definitely think you'll appreciate it." She smirked.

“Do I get to show you how much I appreciate it later on?”

"I'd be very disappointed if you didn't."

“I’ll make sure to pleasure you every which way in it, later.”

"I look forward to it." She lent forward and gave him a quick kiss before going back to decorating.

He sighed contently and went back trying to decorate, trying to ignore the feelings he had inside.

Peter finally came down from his room to help his parents with getting ready for the party. He was trying not to get too anxious. For the last few weeks he and Sarah had been on a break to see if they still wanted to be together. He'd invited her to tonight's party in the hopes of rekindling their relationship as he really missed her.

“You ok?” Charlie asked Peter, as he noticed one of the signs that he was anxious.

"Sarah hasn't replied to say if she's coming tonight." Peter replied sullenly.

“You’re still on a break?” He asked sadly.

Peter nodded, a big sigh the only audible reply he gave.

“You really miss her, don’t you?”

"Yeh. You probably think that's silly don't you?"

“No I don’t.”

"The lads at college think it is."

“The lads at college don’t know what love is.”

"They say there's plenty of other pretty girls, that I should just get over her."

“You don’t ever forget your first love, Peter.”

"Hmm." Peter mumbled before going back to preparing for the party.

He sighed, Sarah was a lovely girl but it seemed they’d simply grown apart.

The twins came running through the hallway pretending to turn each other into frogs with their magic wands.

“Ah!” Charlie squealed. “There’s frogs in the hallway!!”

"They're not real, you're so silly daddy!" Tilly giggled.

“The frogs aren’t real?”

Hearing his sisters talking Oli started bouncing up and down pretending to be a frog.

"I swear some days this house is like living in a zoo!" Duffy chuckled.

“Definitely, I agree with you babe.” Charlie called back.

About half an hour later the house was decorated and the grown ups were finally able to get changed into their costumes for the party.

Charlie’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he discovered Duffy’s outfit for the party!

Like her daughters Duffy had chosen a witch's costume for the party but hers had more of an adult spin. The loose pleated layers that hung from the empire waist to just above her knees nicely hid the fact that she still carried some remaining extra baby weight whilst drawing attention to her larger bust and shapely legs that were encased in stockings and stilettos.

She was gorgeous! That extra baby weight Charlie loved and couldn’t get enough of, never mind her breasts. “You look fantastic!” He whispered in her ear.

"I thought you'd like it." She giggled. "Is that really what you're going to wear?" She questioned with a raised eyebrow as she took in his attire.

“Yes, do you have anything else I should wear?” He asked.

"I've made an effort..!" She pouted.

“I have made an effort. And please don’t pout whilst you’re dressed like that.”

"I don't know what you mean..." She pushed her bottom lip out further as she leant against the doorframe that led through to the bathroom.

“Duffy,” He groaned as he began to harden.

"Yes..?"

“You’re getting me really hard.” He stepped towards her and ran his hand under her dress, his fingertips brushing against her knickers.

Her reply was cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing as the first of their guests arrived.

He groaned. “I’ll be down in five, I need to get rid of this.” He pointed to his crotch.

An hour later the party was in full swing, music playing, drinks flowing and laughter ringing out. The children were having just as much fun as the adults.

Some of the staff from the hospital were arriving later after they'd finished their shifts. Duffy was unimpressed to see that Maggie was amongst the group.

Charlie’s hand stroked Duffy’s lower back and he kissed her earlobe. “I say, when the kids are asleep, we’ll sneak off for ten minutes.”

"I like the sound of that." She murmured, purposefully leaning into Charlie as she gave Maggie a filthy look.

His hand went under her dress, “Or maybe I should fuck you somewhere Maggie can hear us?” He whispered, his fingertips stroking the top of her knickers.

"You are a bad, bad man..!" Duffy purred, her eyes full of lustful fire.

“Leave it with me.” He kissed her earlobe.

"Just give me the signal." She giggled before heading off to mingle amongst their friends.

True to his word, once the kids were asleep, especially the younger ones, Charlie gave Duffy the eye and pulled her into the downstairs bathroom.

She giggled as she locked the door behind them. "If my mother gets wind of this you're a dead man, you do realise that?"

“I’ll take my chances.”

"Last I saw she was chatting to Josh. Hopefully he'll keep her occupied."

“Your mum is aware of how babies are made right?” He smirked, “Or are you talking about me fucking you in the downstairs bathroom?”

"Oh trust me if you fucking me in this bathroom leads to a baby being made my mum really will string you up!"

“Probably by my balls.” His hand slipped into her knickers.

"That's if she doesn't chop them off first!"

Charlie groaned painfully. “Ouch!” His fingertips stroked over her. “You’re wet.”

"You weren't the only one who got excited earlier."

“I could tell by the fire in your eyes.” He removed his fingers and sucked them before sliding her knickers off.

Duffy wrapped her arms around his back and pulled him closer, her right foot resting on the toilet seat as she lent back against the wall.

He inserted two fingers into her and moaned against her neck.

She bit her bottom lip to stifle her moan.

His fingers began to move inside of her, his other hand freeing her breasts from her dress.

Her nipples hardened instantly as his fingertips brushed across them.

“You’ve got a perfect set of tits.” He whispered as his fingertips continued to brush against her nipples.

She smiled shyly, blushing.

His fingers probed deeper, just as he took one of her nipples into his mouth and licked it.

"Fuck!" She moaned.

“Oh fuck!” He sucked her nipple slightly before paying attention to the other one.

She moved her hands to pull at the waistband of his trousers.

He removed his fingers from her and held her gaze as he sucked his fingers.

Freeing his cock she licked her lips as she ran her fingernails along it.

“God...” He groaned loudly feeling her hand. “Fucking hell, babe.”

"Fuck me now!" She demanded, smirking.

“I don’t need telling twice.” He guided himself into her and thrusted into her, hard.

"Charlie!" She gasped.

“Holy shit!” He gasped, feeling her clench around him.

She tried desperately to think sensibly but it was proving hard. "Charlie... We need to... Oh fuck!"

“Need to what?” He asked, his thrusts hard and deep.

"Be careful." She gasped.

“I won’t fill you.” He groaned, his hand grabbed her breast. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

"Not on my dress!"

“Baby!” He moaned again.

She cut off his moans with a passionate kiss.

He sucked on her tongue.

Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she neared her peak.

He purposely slowed down as he felt her near her peak.

"Fuck! Charlie!" She moaned.

“Baby.” He groaned, kissing her earlobe.

She buried her face in his shoulder to muffle her moans as she came.

Feeling her tremble, he continued to thrust inside of her. Slowly and teasingly, he wanted her to come again.

She scratched her nails across his skin as she clenched around him.

“Your pussy feels so good when it clenches around my cock.” He whispered, kissing her earlobe.

"You're a naughty boy!" She gasped.

“Why? Because I like watching you come?”

"Just make sure you don't!"

“I won’t.” He moaned, “Does it make you wet knowing people could hear us fucking?”

"Yes! Oh yes!"

“I can feel just how wet it makes you.”

Suddenly there was a bang on the door.

“Ssh,” Charlie whispered, his thrusts increasing.

Duffy couldn't help letting out a moan that was swiftly muffled by Charlie's hand.

His thrusts continued to increase in depth.

She licked his hand that was across her mouth.

He whispered in her ear, “Moan for me.” He moved his hand away from her mouth slightly.

She did as he demanded as the knocking became louder and more insistent.

“I’m trying to have a poo in here.” Charlie called, “Come back in five.” He told the person knocking on the other side of the door.

"Charlie!" She hissed, giggling.

“It’s distracting.” He giggled softly himself, maintaining his speed and depth of his thrusts. He was adamant on bringing her to a second climax.

She would have said more but he quickly had her distracted once more. Damn him!

One hand moved down her front and began to rub her clit.

His actions quickly elicited the desired effect.

He pulled out of her quickly, “I’m gonna come.”

She attempted to move quickly to her knees but was only partially successful.

Charlie ended up coming over her breasts. By some sort of miracle, not a drop landed on her dress.

"You did that on purpose!" She scolded him playfully.

#chuffy #charlie and duffy #charlie fairhead #lisa duffin

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themockingcrows · 5 years

Text

Two Fates, Two Kingdoms Ch. 18: Brother of Moonlight

Characters: John Egbert, Dave Strider, Jake English, Rose LaLonde, Roxy LaLonde, Dirk Strider This chapter is SFW! AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2606711/chapters/48093772

After washing the struggles of the road off, there's family to meet and reconnect with and stories to tell as Dave re-positions himself into the role of beloved baby brother that had been empty for so long. With all the familial re-connections happening at once, what are the chances that there are still some secrets being kept?

The baths Dave had spoken on were a grand sight indeed, and thankfully reclusive enough from the rest of the people of the castle that they weren’t interrupted. The same chilly stone that housed the castle and a lot of the foundations of the city below blossomed with warmth as Dave led the Prospitian duo along a few twists and turns, then finally down a stairwell that was soon filling up with the welcome kiss of steam. In one room there was running hot water from taps that fed into troughs that kept filling over and spilling to a chute below to drain away. Dave calmly removed his clothing and peered over his shoulder to see if the brother’s would follow suit or not. To his surprise they followed suit, jingling and jangling awkwardly to get out of the new items and set the clothes in with Dave’s and the fresh set he’d brought with him. As to whether those older clothes would still fit him properly was yet to be seen, but since he’d gained no new height, it would probably fit well enough.

The first room seemed to be for the main washing, stools sitting among places carved by the stone that was hot to the touch with buckets and dippers aplenty along with soaps and oils. This wasn’t the bath for the kitchen staff after all. This was for Dave and others in his wing, which usually would consist of Rose and occasionally other family members when he was younger. The same crystals lit along the ceiling and walls, soft glows of lavender and white blending with the steam and the sweetly scented soaps to make a dreamy atmosphere as they all took a spot and washed away the stress and travel. Dave offered the brothers an option to shave which they took readily to get rid of accumulated stubble, while he himself busily trimmed at his hair to even the ends out and shorten it just a bit to a more manageable level.

The second room was devoted to the bath itself, a high edged bath that looked like a small pool, with a second space offset partly into the wall that was steaming heavily. The stone was smoother, polished to show the grain and natural subtle shifts in color that the natural stone held beneath their feet and palms.

“This one’s plenty warm. There’s a cool spigot to use if you need cold water,” Dave explained as he pointed. “The far tub is the hottest one. I wouldn’t stay in it very long if I were you, though.”

“Pshaw and pish, Dave my lad. You’re speaking to felows from the land of the heat and sun! This should prove to be perfectly comfortable,” Jake insisted as he strode past unabashedly to go straight into the hotter water. He hopped right in, lasted about ten seconds, then stood up with a harsh gasp. “CHEESE AND CRACKERS BUT THAT’S FUCKING HOT.”

“What did you expect when someone says ‘that’s the hottest one’ and says they wouldn’t stay in it very long?” John asked, coming closer to investigate as Jake sat down slower to enjoy the burn and adjust comfortably and Dave clambered into the bigger tub.

“I expected it to be hot by a Dersite’s standards, not hot-hot,” Jake complained. “It feels quite nice once you go in slower and the burn stops. But I see why staying too long wouldn’t be a good idea.”

John took his time getting into the hot water, wincing and cussing more than once before he sat down opposite Jake with a heady sigh and sank down even further. “Ohhhhh but this is nice.. Dave can I convince you to walk my back later? Or my shoulders at least? If I can get out of here that is, the castle feels like a cube of ice compared to this..”

“You get used to it,” Dave shrugged, dipping his head a few times and slicking his hair back behind his shoulders and out of his eyes in a smooth motion. “Besides, I’ll make sure we find some other items you two can wear. Shoes, for one. Some kind of robe as well surely. At least nobody’s trying to make you hurry outside for anything.”

“Outside doesn’t exist anymore,” insisted John. “Shhhh, it’s bath time. Only hot water now.”

“We have to leave eventually, if we want to introduce you to the rest of my family,” Dave chuckled. “And eat.. And see Dirk again. I don’t care how busy he is, there’s questions I have that need answered quickly.”

“Perhaps we’ll see him come meal time and you can spring some things on him then?” suggested Jake. “Surely even a fellow as hard working as him pauses to eat now and then with the family.”

“You’d be surprised. But, yes, that’s an option. If not then I can hear it from the others what to do. Or I’ll just go to his chambers tonight and smack him with a pillow.”

“No caution for the king, I see,” John smirked. “Then again you had next to none for a prince in Prospit, so I’m not that surprised that you’d not act differently towards your brother when a stranger didn’t deter you.”

Be it the bath or the by now fond memory it was hard to say, but a soft flush had crossed Dave’s cheeks.

“Hah. Definitely different with family. I doubt you’d have acted differently to Jake were he to suddenly have become king, right? Or would it have been all that different in Prospit?”

The pair exchanged a curious glance, brows lifted in nearly a mirror image of each other before they glanced over. Were Dave not limited to the one eye he’d swear he was seeing double thanks to them. Save for the eye color and subtle differences in height and shoulder width, body mass, the brothers could be twins when their scruffy black hair was wet. Especially when they grinned at him like that.

“Mmm.. I guess you’re right. I don’t think I’d have stopped trying to prank him, or teasing him.”

“But,” offered Jake, “to be fair, I don’t know if I’d ever have truly become king. I’d sooner have fled and let Janey take over all the same, follow adventure elsewhere, follow some maps from old legends in books and see what I could find on my own that others may have missed. Spend my days hunting and my nights camping out ‘neath the stars. ..Being cooped up with the rules and regulations and that crown hanging heavy on me with the weight off an entire country.. I don’t think I’m capable of that, no matter what father says.”

“I think you’d have made a decent king.”

“Decent, not great,” Jake pointed out to Dave. “There’s a difference. Your brother appears to be doing the greatness thing, same as Jane no doubt will do the greatness thing as a queen someday when father passes.”

“So you’ve truly no intention of going back,” Dave marveled, coming to the edge of where the tubs conjoined to rest his chin on his hands and hum.

“There’s not much waiting for us there any longer, not while father is alive,” said John. “I had hoped…” he trailed off quietly, looking down at the slight ripple on the surface of the water. He’d hoped to get to go home again someday, even if only for visits to his siblings if his father wouldn’t have him back on any good terms. But things were just not meant to be so, it would seem. He cleared his throat and let the moment pass without either of the others prodding him. The topic was a sore one and quite the fresh wound after all, and it affected each of them.

“When we’re done here, where are we going first?” Jake asked, changing the subject to give John some reprieve.

“I think it’d be best to see Rose first. ...I hope she’s kept her hair short,” Dave mused.

“Why would it matter how long her hair is?”

“Well, you see, we used to look quite similar. Very similar. We could pretty much switch places if we wanted to, before her bust grew in. It got harder to do then, but it was still possible,” Dave explained. “She looks quite nice in a set of trousers.”

Jake lifted a brow. “Planning on switching places, then?”

“Oh, no. I don’t think we’d be able to anymore, not since.. Well. There’s more differences now in a lot of directions. But it would be nice to be able to show you two what I mean when we’re side by side. I suppose her hair wouldn’t matter, since my own is longer now.”

“Decided against trimming it all off?” John asked with a grin. “You’d look handsome with short cut hair.”

“Of course I would. But for now.. I don’t know. This length I can work with for a while longer. I’ll hack it off at a later date, when I feel like it,” sniffed Dave. “I think once the novelty of controlling my bodily autonomy wears off,” he said in common, uncertain of the phrase in Prospitian and even then just barely getting the point across.

“No rush far as we’re concerned. Scootch over there, Dave, I’m hotter than a boiled hen and probably twice as steaming, I need that cooler water!” Jake finally grunted, standing up with a rush of steam before edging modestly as he could around Dave to get into the bigger tub with a relieved sigh. John soon followed suit, both brothers adjusting to the cooler water quickly and then trying to go further still to prepare for the air of the castle they’d be facing. Not wanting to waste a second of it, the time in the bath stretched long as seemed civil before Dave led the way to towels to dry with.

While John and Jake simply pulled the tunic and pants back on that they’d deposited earlier, feeling refreshed and comfortable in a way they hadn’t been since leaving Prospit, Dave was suddenly dressed in more decorative clothing of his homeland. The tunic was intricately decorated, a deep red with rust colored shining threads shimmering like a soft flame when he moved just right, the buttons dark as coals with the leggings to match. He’d never brought the boots along with him, nor did he bring a set of slippers, leaving Dave barefoot as the others as they padded back upstairs and to his chambers so he could deposit the soiled items within.

Rose’s room was easy enough to find when using Dave’s as a guiding tool, though it felt as if the stone in her part of the wing was a darker hue than that of Dave’s. He knocked gently at her door before glancing to his companions, speaking softly.

“I don’t know if she’ll be in or not. She may be elsewhere, or resting, or not wanting to be bothered or-”

Rose herself opened the door, question dying on dark painted lips as she took in the scene in front of her. Dave, hair long and still damp tied back at his nape, collar at his throat, weathered features tired but undeniably him, flanked by two bronze skinned giants in different collars. He hadn’t been kidding about their similarities. From the nose to the jaw to the brow shape, it was uncannily like looking at a Dave who was wearing makeup and a high collared dress rather than a woman neither of them had ever met before. She felt familiar in a pleasantly welcome way.

“I-. ...Dave?” she asked, brows finally furrowing. “Is that really you? Am I having a spell, or am I really seeing this?”

“A spell? You better have been staying healthy while I’ve been away,” Dave said, reaching out to take both of Rose’s hands, bringing them up to his own cheeks so she could lay hands on him. “Yes, it’s me.. See? All here.”

She spared another glance to John and Jake over Dave’s shoulders, looking them up and down. All here indeed. Jake grinned and gave a hearty wave.

“Oh, she’s lovely Dave, you were right.”

“Well at least they’re.. nice. What in the world..? When did you get here? How did you get here? And who are these two and why are they in the castle?!” she asked, questions halting when Dave released her hands and smooshed her cheeks with his palms instead so her painted lips pursed like a fish.

“I’ll answer everything in a second. Where’s Roxy? Maybe I can do a two-for-one meeting,” he chuckled.

“Archery practice, you’d probably get shot for interrupting before she realized it was you,” Rose managed to get out, though her words were a little slurred from the strange position her mouth was being pushed into.

“I’ll get Roxy later then. At dinner if nothing else,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to either of Rose’s cheeks when he released them before hugging her tightly and spinning in a quick circle with her. “Come, let us in for a little bit? I’ll explain, and we can catch up.”

Rose glanced to her room, the tea set within freshly delivered, and sighed.

“Something tells me I’ll be needing far more tea, and a few more cups at least.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“So you survived all that, then made it over a mountain, survived a fucking troll, and got taken down by a loose lipped inn keeper?” Rose marveled, holding her cup with both hands. Dave sat opposite her, savoring the rich flavors of the blend he remembered most fondly, low lying berries and roots and intense sweetness, while the Prospitians were cautiously holding the small cups with their large hands and trying to adjust to the flavor with some semblance of grace. It wasn’t bad per say, but it was definitely different. The conversation was mostly taking place in common so as not to exclude the guests, but occasionally things had been said quickly in Dersian to either reassure his sibling or explain a concept quicker.

“Right? It was like we had all the luck in the world and it finally ran out,” he said with a smile.

“..Does it bother you?” she asked suddenly. “The eye I mean. I can’t imagine how you’ve dealt with it so far..”

“I mean. It is what it is. You adjust, or you don’t, and I adjusted best I can,” he shrugged. “I knock things over sometimes, or I miss steps. But I’m getting better with it. I’m stronger than then too, I don’t faint or get headaches as often.”

“But they’re still there,” Rose pressed a bit.

“Yes. They might always be, same as my eye might always be the way it is. Time will tell,” he shrugged, glancing to John and Jake briefly to both check on them and find an out for himself in the conversation.

“It’s true, the last faint he had was earlier actually. Your brother apparently shook him a good deal,” John said more than a little stiffly. “Aside from that, he’s been doing quite well for himself all things considered.”

“You��re still wearing a collar,” Rose pointed out.

Dave sat his cup down and clasped the item with both hands as if reassuring himself it was indeed still there and wasn’t about to suddenly come off. “Yes. I am. And I will be for a while longer, till it feels… okay to take it off,” he continued.

Rose lifted a brow at John and got a shrug back, a shake of the head. This wasn’t his territory. Dave had full autonomy again, he could remove it any time he wished. The only thing was that he hadn’t wished it off quite yet and wasn’t sure when he’d be ready to, a hard concept to wrap his head around personally. If he could wave away his own new collar he would in a heartbeat, finding it uncomfortable already to deal with. He couldn’t imagine Dave wanting to keep his on longer after how long he’d been wearing it.

Deciding not to push it further, Rose took a sip of her drink. “Are you here to stay, then? Or do you plan on disappearing again?”

“I’m here to stay. I don’t think I’m interested in straying afar for quite some time,” he admitted. “I’ve had enough adventure for a while..”

“Do you plan to return your friends?”

Dave made a face. “Rose, they can go if they please. I’m not their keeper. ...Though I admit, it would mean the world to me if John stayed.” He sat his cup down and leaned back. “It’d mean even more if Dirk allowed us to marry honestly, but I’m not holding my breath just yet. I already know there’ll be a fight involved over it, and I’m prepared to fight. I did not make it this far to be told I can’t marry someone I love, damn it, even if it takes a while for it to be possible.”

“I can’t imagine politics would be too kind to us,” admitted John, reaching for Dave’s hand to give it a fond squeeze before stroking the back with his thumb. “Princes of enemy kingdoms wedding, even if one prince abdicated?”

“Two princes,” Jake said merrily, finishing his tea. “May I have another cup, miss?” he asked, gesturing to the pot rather than immediately pouring himself something fresh. “And would you like yours topped off?”

“Yes, please,” Rose said, offering her cup out for Jake to refresh the liquid inside before pouring his own. He grinned and offered to the others as well, though only Dave took him up on the offer. John was still dealing with his own cup’s contents after all. “I think I see why Dirk was upset, however. You kind of brought a big problem to our doorstep. Abdicated or not, you chose our kingdom of all places to hide. Our castle. There’s a chance your family will fight harder to get you back, try to talk sense into you. Or outright blame us for your leaving.”

“Well, we did leave because of Dave,” John said. “Though there’s a chance Jake was going to leave on his own if things had continued as they were at home.”

“It’s kind of cute that you’re planning your wedding day already, when you’ve been home.. What. A few hours now?” Rose smirked playfully. “Not even getting approval from the family, not even asking if I’d be your maid of honor. Pity. I will be, by the way, whether you like it or not.”

“Try not to upstage the bride, is all I ask. He’s got a temper on him,” John chuckled.

Rose grinned at him, then turned her gaze on the annoyed looking Dave. “Oh, I like him. Approval gained, best wishes for a healthy family and all that.”

Dave sulked, but didn’t complain much. “No swapping either then, you’ll get to wait your turn for a turn in the dress.”

John almost spit into his tea. “Wait, what?”

Dave lifted a brow at him. “I was kidding, but was the idea that fluster inducing for you? I’ll have to keep it in mind then for the future. I’d never have guessed, considering my time with Jane.”

“With Jane?” Rose asked, confused.

“Ah. Before I was given over to John, I was his sister’s. She wanted more of a lady in waiting than I was able to be, though I did well as I could,” he shrugged. “Everything was so… yellow.”

“Do you have any plans now?” Rose asked of John and Jake. “You abdicated, but I don’t know how formally since you more or less disappeared into the night. What do you plan to do if we’re blamed with kidnapping? What if the war ramps up harder?”

“We’d try to talk sense to our father,” Jake offered. “...And if that failed to work, I’d try to fight through and talk sense to my sisters.”

“And if that fails? You turned your back on your country to come to ours,” Rose pointed out. “I doubt they’d trust you any longer, no matter how pure your intentions.”

Jake sighed and swirled the liquid in his cup.

“...And this is why I don’t think I’d have done well as a king. There’s so many trails and strings and lashings to sort out just to get to the meat of the matter: that at this point it’s a familial dispute, but if pressed the entire force of a war would come down on our heads.”

“You said you’d fight through and talk sense to your sisters. Didn’t they let you go before?”

“More or less. They understood it was to help Dave, that it was for the best at the time, even if they didn’t approve at all. Jade will have to follow whatever orders father gives, and Jane.. well. Jane’s not in a position of power right now.”

“...And if she were?” Rose asked. “Were your sister on the throne, do you feel the war would stop?”

“On our side? Yes, if Derse stopped pressing at our throats. We’ve been fighting for so long none of the reasons even matter anymore it feels like, it’s just a drain on resources and lives.”

“Our princess was murdered long ago, and you say the reasons don’t even matter,” scoffed Rose, eyes dark as she took another sip from her cup, the outline of her lips clear and easy to match up to each time. “I doubt you’d be saying the same were your prince murdered in cold blood.”

“There’s a funny story about that actually,” John said. “The fact of the matter is, from Prospit’s view? Our prince WAS murdered. He left, we never heard any news of a wedding, and he disappeared. All we got was an attack from Derse, and the war started. We never saw your princess, or if we did there was no mention of her or any other Dersian emissaries along with her. Just our missing prince and an attack from Derse!”

“The ruined carriage at the border said otherwise, I’m sure. But that doesn’t make much sense.. Two stark differences, and two missing royals on the eve of a wedding.” Rose sat her cup down with a sigh. “In a way it sounds… romantic.”

“Romantic? Murder is romantic. I’m not sure how to feel about that,” said John uneasily. “If not dead by either country’s hands then by bandits, surely. Perhaps no bodies because of wildlife.. How is that romantic?”

“Two young lovers reaching to one another until the last moment, potentially? Finally being in true love’s embrace, only to have it all fall apart. A tragedy, but a romantic one,” she sighed. “A bit melodramatic however, I’m sure I could improve it with a bit of workshopping with Roxy.” Perhaps add a lively wizard into the tale, see how magic could improve the situation. Pentaghast the Wise could stroke his beard while surveying the two young lovers being attacked an-

“Oh. Wait, we had a book,” Dave realized. “Karkat gave us a book, in Skaian. It was strange, from before Skaia was fully formed it seems? A man referred to as a golden treasure and a woman referred to as Moonlight. They had a farm and a happy little life, it was quite charming.”

The distant look left Rose’s eyes and she perked up. “Do you happen to still have this book? I’d quite like to see it actually, it sounds interesting.”

“It’s all in Skaian, but I think it’s stuffed somewhere in my bag,” he said. “It was slim enough I wanted it with me.. But. Sure, if I can find it I’ll hand it over to you.”

Practically sparkling, Rose leaned forward on her elbows. “Have you read it all?”

“No, like I said, it’s all in Skaian. Old Skaian. It’s confusing, like Prospitian and Dersian was blended together and new things were shoved in here and there. I mean, it makes sense with the kingdoms being so close together, but still.. Ugh, what a headache.”

“Mmm, delightful. I’ve wanted a break from my manuscript, and I’m a little more used to dealing with things in Skaian, getting a good look at it would be a nice change of pace,” she said, finally setting her cup down, done with tea for the time being.

“Why would you be more used to dealing with things in Skaian? And what manuscript? You still writing with Roxy?”

“Yes, and that’s why I’m used to dealing with things in Skaian: we work with a publisher there, under pen names,” she said with a smirk and a flourish of her hand. “We’ve already put out two hits! The third is under way.”

“I-. ...By the Gods, that’s why it was familiar,” Dave said, rubbing his face. “I’ve met your fans. Or some of them at least. One of your books was in castle Prospit’s library, my moirail enjoyed it too.”

“Your. ...Your what?” Rose asked, confusion clear on her face. “Mwa-....?”

“Moirail, it’s. ...It’s hard to explain, it’s a thing from her culture though. It was this weird comforting thing, just being near her though. Like I’d be happy to stay right where she was all day in the fabric scraps.” At another confused look, Dave hurried to add, “She was the head seamstress.”

“Okay, that makes more sense than you just wallowing around in fabric scraps like some kind of tragic little urchin. And I’m glad you had a friend. ..Well. More friends,” she said, gesturing to John and Jake, who gave her another grin. “The fact that not all of your time in Prospit was hellish is soothing to know, and from how you described some things earlier, some of it even sounded.. almost fun.”

“Almost is the key word,” Dave agreed. “Rose, thank you so much for the tea. I’m a bit antsy to go find Roxy though. Can we talk more later on?”

“Of course, it’s not as if I’m about to run off to Prospit or anything. It was good to see you, to catch up. A bit of time to process things would be good,” she chuckled. “I’ll be sure to visit by tonight if you don’t find your way back to me or are being kept busy by Dirk.”

Once Dave stood, he crossed around the small table between them to hug Rose tightly around the shoulders again, rubbing their full cheeks together affectionately. She turned her head before he could escape and left a soft black outline of lipstick on his cheek, prominent as a brand on the pale flesh. He didn’t wipe it away or seem bothered at all, apparently proud to wear some sign of his family again for the time being. That, or he’d just forgotten the mark could be passed so easily to begin with and was ignorant of the lip marks entirely.

“You said Roxy was doing archery practice, right? Would she still be there?”

“No doubt. If she’s not still out there then she’d be in her room working on her chunk of the manuscript, or bathing or something.” She glanced to the window with a soft hum. “If you hurry you’ll catch her outside. We’re getting closer to supper time as it is, and no doubt that will be an affair chock full of bullshit if Dirk’s in one of his moods. No doubt he will be. I wonder if he’ll even show for supper.”

“I’m sure he will, there’s no way he’d willingly sit out while we all got the chance to talk at the same time now that you’re home.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Finding Roxy proved as easy as Rose had promised. The blonde was in the middle of peppering targets at different heights and locations with arrows, her shot uncannily good more often than not. She was wearing trousers and a fuschia tunic tied up at the same hip that held a quiver, while the other one rested on her back at an angle for practice with quick grabs from both locations. More arrows rested in a box nearby for her use, ready and waiting for her to reload. She’d just stopped to catch her breath, sweat on her brow and hair mussed from exertion when she spotted everyone approaching.

As expected, she noticed John and Jake first, sticking out as they did, and rounded on them with an arrow notched and aimed between the two of them at shoulder level as a threat. Two seconds later she spotted Dave and let the arrow loose without meaning to, sinking it into the wood of the wall far beyond them.

“Dave? Dave?? What the fuck. WHAT THE FUCK, how’re you- Wh-??”

With Roxy disarmed for the time being, Dave hurried forward at a jog to hug his sister tight, the bow clattering to the ground as she swept him up in a return hug and turned in a few quick spinning circles fast enough his feet left the ground. John and Jake, however, kept their distance after observing the arrow’s likely original path and how deeply it’d sunk into the wood.

No thanks.

Another quick round of explanations, this time while cuddled close in a tight hug the entire time, and Roxy sighed and guided them to sit down on the dark grass without releasing her grip. John and Jake had shuffled off to investigate the targets in order to give them privacy, the Dersian too quick for them to keep track of properly anyway.

“I can’t believe it.. You could’ve sent a warnin’ before coming all this way you know, right? There had to be some way to do that, to maybe let us know. We could’ve met you somewhere. I would’ve figured out where you were.”

“It was too dangerous, and by the time we left it was too sudden,” he explained, savoring the hugs and eventual petting he was getting. While he might have fussed about it in the past, it was more than welcome now like some wonderful drug that kept soothing him over and over into a welcome stupor.

“I’m sorry I almost shot those two.”

“One. You only have one arrow notched.”

“I know what I said, Dave, my draw speed is wild fast now,” she said proudly. “Sorry I almost shot you!” Roxy called to John and Jake in common with a wave to catch their attention.

“With shots fine as these, I accept the apology,” Jake said. “Might I do a few shots as well while we’re here? I don’t know if I’m quite the deadeye as you, Miss, but I fancy myself a marksman as well.”

“Sure, but not with my bow. There’s extras for training against the far wall, past the arrow bin,” she gestured with her head rather than let go of Dave or stand up at all. Shhh, only baby brother cuddles now. “You need a bow too?” she asked John.

“Er, no. I’m not that good a shot. I’m more of a warhammer man, or a sword.”

Roxy tipped his head and glanced him up and down, focusing on his arms and chest for a moment before humming and shrugging. “Alright, I believe it.” To Dave she leaned in and whispered to his ear in Dersian. “What a catch. Is the other one single, or are you just hoarding hot guys for some reason?”

“I’m not! He is!” cried Dave with a laugh.

“He’s what?” asked John, frowning a bit. Oh boy, a joke he wasn’t in on? What was he the butt of now?

“He’s saying you’re cute and that he’s not which is a dirty lie,” fibbed Roxy, shoving Dave’s face against her shoulder with a smirk to muffle any of his potential complaints.

“Oh. Well, you’re not wrong,” said John with a playful grin.

Jake had fetched a bow and checked the tension for a moment, then gauged about how badly it would wind up hitting his unguarded wrist before selecting an arrow. He eyed up a far target and took aim quietly, drawing the string back to his ear in a well practiced gesture before loosing the arrow and letting it zing to the target. It smacked home just left of center, opposite of Roxy’s own off centered cluster to the right from overcorrecting. He seemed pleased enough with the shot however and grinned, nodding in satisfaction.

“Not bad.”

“Not bad? That’d still be a kill shot if you wanted it to be,” Roxy pointed out, finally letting go of Dave and letting him breathe after pressing a dark lipped kiss to his clean cheek, evening out the sisterly affection display his face had turned into. “Rip into the right places at least, even if it wasn’t instant.”

“Oh I know it could still be. I’d rather be on point however, for the times I don’t want a kill shot to happen,” Jake said simply, leaning on the bow slightly once he’d planted one end into the ground. “There’s much more merit in halting something than ending something when you don’t have to end it.”

Roxy pursed her lips and nodded a bit. “I suppose so. Wise words. ...Ah, actually, can we pick this back up later? I just noticed how late it’s getting and I kinda reek. I’d like to wash up before dinner. You are coming to dinner, right? All of you? Not gonna hide off in some corner of your room swapping secrets without me?”

“I’m pretty sure Dirk would shit himself if I tried,” Dave said with an easy smile, standing up to dust himself off finally. “I’m looking forward to the food.”

“Did you not get enough in Prospit? You do look pretty skinny..”

“I used to not,” he admitted. “Before I wound up with John’s family. And I lost weight when I got hurt, too, but it’s comin’ back. They were making sure of that,” Dave added with a fond look towards John who gave him a look just as warm back.

“Good. Be prepared to have your ears talked off, Dave, because there is SO much we need to catch you up on from home!”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

While dinner seemed to be a dressed down affair, John and Jake allowed at the family table near Dave’s side and everything else quite normal, it was obvious to the Dersites that the supper was special. It was no secret that everything on the table was a favorite of Dave’s from the appetizers all the way down to the drinks and desserts that would come their way after the main meal was done. Roxy and Rose had freshened up and were dressed casually save for each wearing a few special earrings and necklaces that meant a lot to them to celebrate. Dirk, at the head of the table, was similarly casually dressed but more restrained.

In fact, he hardly seemed to be eating at all, Jake noticed. Whatever wound up on his plate was cut up many times, mashed a bit, pushed around, and then left. He occasionally wiped his mouth with a fine looking handkerchief, deep purple with silvery detailing like moonlight on the corners. The others were eating the bulk of the presented items, and with great gusto in the case of the traveling trio, each getting seconds of everything.

“Dave, I’m starting to wonder if one of your legs is hollow. Where are you putting everything?” chuckled Jake, taking a bite of some kind of tart jam meant to be eaten with the salt cured fish and smoked meat.

“Wouldn’t you like to know all my secrets? In fact, both of my legs are hollow when it comes to these things. Dessert is the only thing allowed in my true stomach. All three servings,” Dave said resolutely. He’d be full as a tick by the end of the meal but a fatter, happier tick wouldn’t exist in the land.

“I don’t blame you, we haven’t had some of these things since you went missing,” Rose said. “..Aside from your birthday, at least. It seemed appropriate then.” At least now the food was a celebration again instead of being tinged with a bitter note of mourning.

“It didn’t feel right to just let supper go as normal,” Dirk said. “It nearly did, but luckily we had some of the items in a state they were able to be prepared in time.”

“Lucky us,” Dave hummed, cutting another bite to savor with a dreamy face. He’d since wiped off the lipstick marks, but looked no less aware of how much he was loved than earlier.

“Lucky you indeed.. Do you plan to carry the luck with you later, when Prospit comes seeking their princes?” Dirk asked, abandoning his plate visibly for now in favor of sipping from his glass. “Or do you plan on using your luck to make the country suddenly okay with your wedding the enemy.”

“Former enemy,” Jake said pleasantly. “We abdi-”

“I wasn’t speaking to you.”

“...Oh. Yes. Ahaha, my mis-”

“You keep doing it. Be silent.”

“...Yes, Sire,” Jake finally said awkwardly, looking down to his plate in a hurry as if his own father has chastised him. He glanced back up almost immediately though, studying Dirk closely. What was it about him that managed to get that reaction? Was it the tone of voice? Was it the way he’d said it as if knowing he’d be obeyed from the beginning? They had to be near the same age if not the same age outright, even with the shorter stature ignored there were a lot of similarities between them when compared to their siblings.

How was the gap between himself and this Dirk Strider so wide when it came to kingsmanship and how could he close it? Perhaps he’d be able to go ask later, after supper. Sneak a few questions in while wanting to speak sibling to sibling as the eldest of their families. Put in a few good words for John while he was at it, to keep smoothing the idea of the pair of them being together since they were so devoted.

“I plan on speaking my case, in the wedding thing. If the facts aren’t enough.. I’ll do as I please, or I’ll leave to do as I please,” Dave said stubbornly, not looking up from the tabletop for a moment. When there was silence, he glanced to Dirk. “Wasn’t expecting me to say I’d leave so soon?”

“You’re right, I didn’t think you’d guess the right answer that fast. Though, the other answer would be to keep the thing secret and let you do as you please while fending off offers for marriage from eligible bachelorettes and bachelors the land over.”

“I’ve hidden enough for a lifetime. I’m done hiding things,” Dave said, thumping a fist on the tabletop. “I’m a prince of Derse and damn it I’m allowed to do one or two selfish or foolish things in my life at this point, I’ve more than earned it by doing my time in such circumstances.”

He turned to John and smiled, but looked a bit sad.

“Could you accept that, John? Having to leave again, if things got bad?”

John was quiet for a moment before setting down his fork. He reached for both of Dave’s hands and squeezed them with a grin. “Of course I could. Home is wherever you are, now, and if you need to go then it would be time to move house.”

“And your traveling companion,” Dirk said. “...Jake, was it? Would you be fine with that? Being abandoned in Derse after abdicating your crown for him?”

Dave flinched as if just realizing what he’d done and leaned hurriedly around John to look at Jake.

“I’m sorry, I hadn’t even considered th-”

“Shhh, don’t worry Dave. If that happens I’d likely set off on my own as well! Explore and adventure like I planned to,” he said brightly, unbothered. “It would just mean Derse was more of a temporary stop than anticipated. The world is vast, and once I learn and understand more about what lurks in Derse I’d love to learn more about what lives elsewhere and how the people live there. Perhaps even far across the water!”

Dirk stared at him, steel edged and unreadable, as if considering the merit of what he said versus what he might secretly mean. Hunting for some ulterior motive or alternate meaning to the happy sounding declaration that just wasn’t coming forward. A crease appeared between his brows suddenly and he frowned, but didn’t push the topic further. Instead he wiped his mouth discreetly with the dark purple handkerchief once more and leaned back in his seat.

“Right. I think I’m going to retire for now, and continue this tomorrow when I’ve time,” Dirk finally said after a moment or two of quiet and confused stares his way from his family and guests. Leaving the handkerchief behind, Dirk stood and wished everyone a pleasant night, then turned on his heel and headed off out of the room.

“Oh. Sire, wait, you forgot your-!” Jake said. Such a pretty thing and he seemed to use it quite often, odds are he’d miss it if he left it behind.

Finally, he had an excuse to follow this man and get some conversation in if he’d have it. What had that frown been about, anyway? The angry look? Had he even been angry, or had he just been making that face for some other reason? He was practically unreadable and it was maddening.

When Jake caught up to Dirk, having abandoned the table to jog after him, he had caught the king at the end of a hall having a coughing fit. Bereft of his handkerchief he was covering his mouth with his bare hand, shoulders heaving from the force of it. Jake slowed and offered the handkerchief over carefully, offering his best smile.

“Sire? ...Dirk? Are you well? You left this behind and-. ...Oh. Oh, Gods, what..”

Another hard hack and red trickled between Dirk’s fingers, his pale face taking on a gray tinge save for his eyes, burning with.. what. Hate? Anger? Something else? Jake looked closer at the handkerchief in his hand and finally noticed the small darker patches here and there on it, deep stains on the already dark fabric that barely stood out unless you were looking for them. Without even thinking, too used to assisting Dave at this point, Jake hurried forward and scooped the royal off his feet like a new bride, leaving him with his hands still clutched over his mouth to stem the blood that was escaping steadily between his fingers and down to his shirt.

“Gesture which way to your chambers and I’ll get you there faster than two shakes of a lambs tail!” Jake promised, looking around before hurrying off in a probable direction, soon guided by movements of Dirk’s torso and legs in his arms to let him know left or right.

This was going to be a bit more intense than just a talk about family matters, he felt. What a night.

#homestuck #johndave #john egbert #dave strider #rose lalonde #roxy lalonde #jake english #dirk strider

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