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luveline · 3 years

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a special friend, part 7 [Fred Weasley x reader]

summary: fred takes you window shopping, ruins your new dress and defends your honour [11k]

tags: smut, mental health issues, implied/referenced self-harm, she/her pronouns used for reader, fem reader

chapter list here

You were gaining weight and not sure how you felt about it. You filled out your clothes like before you'd left Hogwarts, which was perfectly fine. You were perfect just the way you were, Fred assured you.

It wasn't always your changing appearance that bothered you, it was the idea that you'd been eating a lot of food, mostly at Molly's expense. And what gave you the right to do that?

You started making excuses not to go there on Saturday's, even when you could tell Fred was puzzled and maybe even upset. He finally had enough that morning.

"Ghost. Whatever this is, I need you to tell me. Because my family likes you, my mother adores you, and they feel like they've done something wrong and I'm worried they did, too."

You were aghast, rushing to explain. "No, it's not your family. I like your family, your mum is an angel."

"Then what is it?" he asked. You knew he was frustrated and you couldn't blame him this time. Family first.

You looked down at your hands. He took a breath.

"Whatever it is, just tell me," he said softly. "Tell me."

"I don't feel like I deserve to eat," you said, words all squished together.

"You don't deserve to eat?"

"Yeah."

He looked gutted. "Ghost, you need to eat," he hooked an arm around you. You melted into his side.

"You don't need to lose any weight," he continued.

"It's not a weight thing," all the time, you didn't say.

"Then…"

"Just. I never had an appetite before, you remember. I don't like it."

He frowned at you. "You don't like eating?"

"I don't like being hungry and then eating like I deserve to not be hungry."

"You don't deserve to be hungry, Ghost. Nobody does."

"Your mum makes food for me, I'm using up her time."

He pushed the bed covers off of your crossed legs, trying to climb over you. "She likes cooking for you. She likes seeing you. She knows you're around for the long haul," he said, running his hands through his hair. You had to crane your neck to see his eyes.

"I am?"

"You know you are. Now get dressed before my mother dies of heartbreak, if you will. Please come."

He didn't ask for much and you couldn't say no to him.

"Y/N!" Molly cried at the sight of you. "I was beginning to think we scared you off!"

"Sorry, Mrs Weasley. I've been a bit busy," you lied.

She waved her tea towel at you. Something in her face made you think she knew the real story. Maybe she did - she was a mother after all.

"No apologies dearie. And it's Molly," she corrected, for the thousandth time.

"No Bill and Fleur?" Fred asked his mum, dotting a kiss on her cheek. She frowned.

"Not today, the baby has colic and they don't want to move around much. Poor thing."

She shepherded you into the kitchen where everyone else was eating already. You were always making Fred late. George pushed Ronald bodily down the table to make room for you, so Fred sat opposite.

"Ghost, my darling, I thought I'd never see you again."

"You saw me yesterday."

"Did I?" he sniffed. "Can't remember that."

"Idiot," Fred said. He started the whole meal time routine of pushing foods onto your plate. George helped.

"Guys, really. I can do it myself."

"Can you?" George asked.

"Only for the 17 years before I met you."

"Key words: before you met us," Fred said, cheerily buttering a bread roll to put on your plate.

The idea of eating anything was making you feel sick again. You crossed your legs under the table. Arthur was chattering away about something to Molly who kept asking him to repeat himself over the din of the scraping plates and Weasley chatter. Percy was reading, a book propped up against a jug of water.

The younger generation were practically screaming about changes made to the Hollyhead Harpies, who Ginny was very passionate about.

You didn't want anything too soggy or mushy looking today. You skirted around the beans and mushrooms on your plate, instead choosing to eat the bread roll with nothing in it. George put two sausages on your plate pointedly.

You were bouncing your leg under the table. You couldn’t help worrying about how much money all this food cost all the time. You were spiraling, you felt sick. What if it was morning sickness? You started panicking about being pregnant, even though you always drank the potion.

You tried to make eye contact with Fred. He would definitely know if you were pregnant.

“What?” he whispered.

You couldn’t actually ask him, that would be crazy.

“What?” he asked again, laughing.

Him being so happy and carefree put you at ease. If anything was wrong, Fred would know.

“Okay?” he mouthed.

“Yes,” you mouthed back.

“What’s the story?” George asked.

“Nothing at all. Where’s Angelina?”

“Breaking my heart somewhere,” he grinned. “Practice, always. She finishes soon though. I think you should try talking to her again when she gets here, Ghost. She wants to be friends. She said you haven’t had a ‘girls night’ in weeks..”

“She said that?” you asked.

“Yes,” George nodded.

You felt warm inside. “Really?” you couldn’t keep the pleased tone from your voice even though you tried,

“Really.”

“Oh, awesome. Okay.”

“Don’t psych yourself out. She likes you. She liked when you were almost friends,” George said.

You were excited and terrified at the same time. You hoped you’d be with Fred for the rest of your life, so it was imperative you got along with his twin’s girlfriend. And if you weren’t with Fred forever (Godric forbid), hopefully George would remain your friend. This was important and too much pressure.

But still, someone wanted to be your friend. Someone who wasn’t the twins. How exciting!

Fred was watching you fondly. “She’ll be fine.”

You and Angelina got on like a house on fire. You decided before she even sat down that you would try hard to be friendly and push through your shyness. It was easier now, with some self-esteem restored through Fred and George’s friendship and Fred’s support and affection. And you felt guilty for almost abandoning your budding friendship.

You especially enjoyed sharing the privy details of the twins’ lives with each other, as the twins were so alike.

“And he doesn’t ever remember to turn the lights off!” Angelina complained. You nodded rapidly.

“Or the heaters on at night.”

Obviously you’d talked to Angelina before, lots of times, you only thought that maybe she spoke to you for George’s sake alone. You weren’t just smiling and nodding, you were really trying - you felt like you could try. That your presence wasn’t a burden she would carry until you left her alone.

When the sun was beginning to make its way down the darkening sky, you walked down to the end of the garden to side-along beaming like an idiot.

"Shall we go somewhere?" Fred asked.

"Like where?" you asked curiously.

"Anywhere! Our lives are the size of the flat at this point."

I kind of like it like that, you thought. He disapparated, throwing you through space in the blink of an eye. You came out in a dark alleyway.

"Freddie, I trust you, but what the fuck," you murmured.

He squeezed your hands together so tightly you felt like his heartbeat and yours were on one circuit, pulling you out into the main street. It was a city town, what city you couldn't begin to guess, bustling with life and bright lights.

"Where shall we go?"

"We don't have any muggle money," you pointed out.

“I have enough for dinner. We'll window shop," he said confidently, leading you into a storefront. The shop was big, full of chairs and mattresses and bed sheets. There was a nice song playing over the speakers, cheery, slow. Fred weaved in and out of the chair's and sofas until you were staring down at the mattresses.

"I wanna lie on it so bad," you admitted.

Fred laughed in relief. "Oh my god I'm so glad you said that. Me too."

You threw yourself face down. Fred went for a backwards approach. You sunk into the mattress almost moaning out at the comfort of it.

"We need one of these," Fred said.

You tossed and turned. "It's too soft."

"Let's goldilocks this bitch," he said. You laughed madly following him to the next mattress.

You pulled the hair out of your mouth. "This one feels okay."

"It's too hard."

You giggled. "We're really goldilocksing it."

"Here," he helped you up, nudging you to the next one.

It was, as you might predict, perfect.

"How's this one?" you asked.

"I would love to tell you it's juuuuust right," he started quietly. You watched his mouth form the words, watched him roll his eyes with the same amount of nauseating love that you always did.

"But," he continued. "Something doesn't feel right."

"It's because we're not touching," you said instantly. You knew it like you knew the sky was blue. Shifting and wiggling, you cuddled close to his side, leaning your head on his shoulder.

"Now?"

He brought his arms up to hug you. "Obviously you were right, brilliant girl."

A store attendant cleared their throat from halfway across the room.

"You're such a good friend!" Fred said loudly. "What a nice non-sexual hug we are enjoying in this mattress shop!"

"Fred!" you protested, rolling away from him. The attendant was glaring. Fred stayed stretched out on the mattress and you had to tug him off of it.

"What's your obsession with pushing me out of bed?" he asked from the floor, his lovely hair splayed around him. You realised you must look ghastly from this angle and turned away from him.

"Hey, Y/N! Don't leave me here."

You heard him scramble to his feet, felt his warm hand on your elbow.

"Am I such a bad bedfellow?"

"Grow up, Weasley."

"Weasley!" He stood in front of you. "Is that anyway to address your good non-sexual friend?"

"I thought you were my bedfellow?"

"I can be both!"

"As your girlfriend of 3 months, I'd prefer it if you were my bedfellow."

He wagged his eyebrows suggestively. "Doll, I like you and all, but public isn't my style."

You leaned up to kiss the corner of his mouth. He tried to turn his head, kiss your mouth. You pulled away and teased, "Friend's don't kiss on the mouth."

"Our friendship's special, isn't it?"

"Not that special," you said, dragging him down the aisle to look at bedsheets.

"Dollll," he whined.

"Thought public wasn't your style?" You poked through the sheets, feigning indifference.

He caught your moving hands and brought them to his mouth. "No more games," he said, kissing your knuckles. "A truce, if you will."

You grinned. It wasn't often Fred Weasley gave up on a joke. "Ginny told me a long time ago you were whipped for me."

"Oh did she? That's good to know. Great information that I'll definitely file away and not act on later at a time most terrible for her."

"Don't torment your sister, you tyrant. And give me back my hands, I want to choose new sheets."

"These are all too expensive anyways," he said, pulling your hands onto his shoulder. "Kiss me before I cry in the mattress shop."

You went on tip toe to whisper close to his mouth, "Stop saying 'in the mattress shop' at the end of a joke to make it funnier."

"But it works so well."

He kissed you chastely. He may as well have snogged you for the way butterflies started in your stomach.

You moved away.

"The lady's getting so mad."

"She should be. PDA in the mattress shop of all places."

You walked away without checking he was following. You looked through throw blankets and pillows, feeling the luxurious materials under your hands. Fred commented on which ones he thought were tacky. You’d seen the way he dressed before 7th year, but you wouldn’t judge. He held up a blanket with a huge wolf emblazoned across it, laughing before he could even get the words out.

“This in our front room.”

When he said ‘our’, you knew he meant his and George’s. Still, it felt like he meant yours and his.

“No,” you shook your head, “absolutely not under any circumstances. Even-“ you cut him off, his mouth open, about to speak, “if you’re dying and this is the only blanket that would save your life.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” he said unconvincingly, folding the blanket to put back.

You both wandered out of the store and back onto the street, the sky darker and headlights from cars brighter.

“Look,” Fred said. He pointed to a charity shop three times as wide as the one near your home. To get there you had to cross the busy roads and you did so, screaming at Fred’s sudden sprint. He pulled you by the wrist, laughing at your fright.

You panted. “What’s wrong with you?”

“So many things,” he said, kissing you on the cheek. “Don’t be mad, Ghost. You’ll get frown lines.”

“I will not!” you said, letting him guide you into the charity shop. It was dimmer than the blinding white lights of the mattress shop. There were patrons all over the place, you could hardly count the people in here. Couples and old women and a man who couldn’t be older than you or Fred with a chihuahua in a baby carrier.

“We should get a dog,” Fred said.

“So you can carry it around like a baby?”

Fred set off down the aisle towards the end of the row. “If I wanted to carry something around like a baby, I’d have a baby.”

“By yourself?”

“Yes, Ghost, by myself,” he said sarcastically. You passed rows of clothes and big thick coats.

“Now this is interesting,” he said, pausing at the bric-a-brac. He picked up a little robin statuette, made of coloured glass. “What’s this do?”

“Nothing, I suppose.”

You poked a ziplock bag full of beads. They rattled. Fred sorted through the stuff with more interest than yourself, and it struck you that, as a pureblood, he might not be used to muggle stuff like this. The only charity shops he’d been to had been small, mostly clothes, yourself not long ago. It was fascinating, watching him discover old-fashioned lighters, a bread cutter that had seen better days, a flashlight you had to wind up with your hand.

You let him do his thing, setting your sight on a circle clothes rack laden with dresses of every kind. Slips, shifts, body cons and a-line skirts. You picked at the sequins on a particularly bad mermaid silhouette dress.

Fred came up behind you.

“That’s terrible.”

“This one?” you said, faking a dejected tone. “I quite liked it… you don’t?”

“I was-“ he cleared his throat, “-it was sarcasm, Ghost. It’s lovely.”

“No it isn’t,” you said normally.

The way his face lit up when he realised you’d got one over him was adorable. “Fiendish thing, I was about to pretend I liked that dress for the rest of our lives.”

“Hmm,” you said, pushing dresses across the rack in search of something actually nice enough to wear.

Something caught your eye. It was a satin binding mini dress with a v-neckline. The dress was cut in 3 panels, deep red contrast lines starting at the bottom of the dress and contouring up naturally where your breasts would begin, bisecting the champagne fabric.

It was stunning.

“That’s lovely,” Fred said.

“Very modern,” you said, running the single layer fabric between your fingers. “I don’t think I’d fill it out right.”

“I’m determined to prove you wrong,” he said, looking through his pockets and extracting his wallet. You turned the tag of the dress over and was pleasantly surprised at the price.

The lady at the front counter smiled at you both. “You’re a cute couple.”

Fred put his hand on your shoulder. “We are.”

“Thank you!” you said, accepting the bag from her, beaming.

“Where to now?” you asked Fred, almost tripping down the shop’s ramp and back into the busy street. It was almost dark.

“We spent all our money on your lovely dress,” he said, swinging your hand between you both as you walked.

“So no dinner?”

“We could go somewhere in Diagon Alley?”

“It’s all shut now,” you sighed through your nose.

“We could just go home. I can make pasta! Fettuccine or red pesto or something?”

“Mmm, that sounds nice,” you said.

He stuttered to a stop and you gave pause. “What, Fred?”

He was looking through the windows of a jewellery shop. The display was full of rings and bracelets, necklaces and big fat diamond earrings that sparkled from the streetlights and shop signs. Inside, you could see a couple who didn’t look much older than you with an assistant, showing them rings out of the glass cabinet.

He squeezed your fingers. You squeezed back.

“Come on, Ghost, let’s go home. It’s too cold.”

“Gonna drag me down a dark alleyway again?”

He dragged you down the dark alleyway. You disapparated to just outside the shop again. It was quiet down Diagon Alley, the silence broken only by the shop’s moving arm chugging up and back down.

You let him unlock the door, thinking your fingers might be too cold to turn the key. You left behind the alley, the shop floor like you’d left it the night before, the stairs to the flat. You kicked off your shoes at the entrance.

“George?” Fred called into the flat.

He didn’t call back. He was likely at Angelina’s for the night, where he spent most weekends. It was weird as you got older, when you first met the twins they were always side by side, always planning. Even a weekend away from each other felt alien.

Fred pulled his scarf and coat off. You didn’t bother, still cold. Fred wrangled them off you while you protested, edging away from him.

“I’m cold, Fred.”

He was laughing, peppering kisses all over your face as you tried to fight his thieving hands. He put your coat up next to his and pulled you into a hug.

“I’ll warm you up in no time.”

“This isn’t working,” you said, lips smushed against his chest.

“No?” Quick as a flash, he’d pulled his shirt over your head. You wrapped your arms around his naked back. He peered down his neckline at you.

“Cosy?”

“Super cosy.”

He walked you backwards to the kitchen and you laughed all the way, almost falling backwards on the slippery kitchen floor.

“I can’t cook with you in there,” he said.

You kissed his chest. “Too bad, heartthrob,” you said, then extracted yourself anyway.

He smoothed down your ruffled hair and turned away to start cooking dinner. You tried your best to help him, ultimately getting in the way more than anything. He put you on stirring duty.

It was in moments like this that you thought back to Hogwarts and how, if it weren’t for Fred and George’s inherent and abundant kindness, you would probably be spending every evening alone or with your mother. You might be dead.

That was a scary thought to have. Scarier still to watch your boyfriend chopping vegetables and think, Godric, there was a chance I never would’ve watched him cutting vegetables. And it wasn't special or intimate or anything like that, but it broke your heart. You wondered if that’s how it felt for Fred when he found out you were hurting yourself, if he’d looked at you in the shower dripping wet and thought, I might never have seen her do this at all.

There were so many things you would’ve missed out on and still so many more. Had the ghost of you wasted away in that castle a thousand miles away, you never would’ve gone to that perfumed smelling charity shop and had your boyfriend buy you a dress. You never would’ve lived a life surrounded by people who loved you and wanted you to show up for family breakfast every single Saturday and saved you a plate. You never would’ve understood how sex with somebody doesn’t have to be just sex, that it could be beautiful and silly and you could laugh the whole while and not ruin the mood.

All your life you’d felt as though something was missing - was there a reason you couldn’t find people who understood you? Were you the wrong shape, the wrong size? What about your face, was it the wrong face? Your body?

Worse, was it your personality? Your humour, your interests? You’d tried so hard to be someone people could love, erasing and erasing the parts of you that made you you until there was nothing left. Or almost nothing.

Until two brilliant boys saw something in you that you thought you’d rubbed out a long time ago. Until they never gave up on you, never pressured change, never thought an ‘I love you’ would fix every wrong part of you.

Fred had given you so many chances and so much forgiveness that it made you sick. Did that make him your god, the fact that from everybody on this whole planet, it was him that you would seek an absolution now?

Because whatever you did in this miserable and exhaustingly happy life, it would be for Fred now. You couldn’t live for yourself, you hadn’t, but you would for Fred. You promised yourself that.

And whatever was missing from inside you, Fred didn’t care. Or maybe he cared so much it got all filled up.

“Fred?” you asked.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

You didn’t bother forcing a moment, didn’t bother to stop stirring the soup. Saying it didn’t make it more true than it had been for hours, for days, for weeks and months. From the night you slept in his bed at Christmas or the day he gave you the necklace or the afternoon he and George realised you’d been standing behind them all along, that you’d heard every word they’d been saying.

You were dirty and tired and full of cuts and welts from scratching and your hair didn’t ever look perfect, your clothes weren’t anything to write home about. You didn’t have an award-winning smile, you couldn’t model with your body.

None of it mattered. You might not be special to the world, but you were special to Fred Weasley.

Fred felt a bit more passionately about your declaration than you thought he would, immediately abandoning the cutting board, turning off the heat.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

“I know you do,” you said. You weren’t arrogant. You just knew.

“I was going to say it first,” he said, sliding his hand down your forearm. You gripped his back, like a pact.

“You already did, Freddie. A million times before.”

He kissed you on the forehead. “I love you. I’ll find a million different ways to tell you.”

And that was that - a million different ways, he said? Then you would find a trillion. You stepped on his toes and he stepped on yours, laughing when you pulled back only to try again, till you were almost shrieking at his offense.

“Think about how many siblings I have and then reevaluate why what you just tried was stupid,” he suggested.

You turned the heat back on under the saucepan, smiling even though your toes hurt.

Fred finished chopping up the ingredients and soon a delicious smelling sauce was cooking away on the stovetop. You sneaked spoonfuls of sauce when he wasn’t looking, though a tell-tale trail of green around your mouth gave you away.

He batted your hands away from the saucepan and told you to set the table, which was extremely funny to you because setting the table in the twins’ flat consisted of two coasters and two forks on either side of the table. Fred finished cooking the pasta and added it to the sauce, blinking away the hot steam that drifted into his face. He levitated the bowls onto the table in a display of skill that served to remind you just how smart and skilled he was. He didn’t spill a drop.

He pushed his place setting over to be next to yours, uninterested in a romantic candlelit dinner. His thigh brushed up against yours every time he moved, his elbow against yours when he took a mouthful. The elation of being loved so deeply you knew it like you knew there to be blood in your veins made it so that you didn’t think, not once, about being sick or giving up.

Plus, what better way to say you loved someone than to eat a plate of their food and compliment it? You took a moment between mouthfuls to press your fingers to his arm, giving in to the urge to always be close to him if only for a second. He tilted his head and neck so that his cheek covered your hand.

“How is it, doll?” he asked, sipping at the large glass of water you’d poured for him.

“It’s nice,” you said. “Would've been nicer if it were spaghetti.”

“Not funny, at all,” he said. The smile colouring his voice said otherwise. How funny to think it had been almost two months since that night where you’d eaten pasta and heard that horrible man complain about spaghetti.

It felt surreal and not. It was your life, it was a lot of things. You’d given up on the perfect girlfriend facade and the urge to punish yourself for little things had slowly fallen away, never completely, but enough to live your life. You’d done that for Fred and everyone who cared about you, including yourself.

You couldn’t stop thinking about it tonight - how you were sickened by gratefulness. It wouldn’t stop rushing through your head. You let Fred finish his meal, let him pull you down into the sofa with the TV, channel surfing. You let him make silly jokes and poke your ribs with the remote and still couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Fred.”

“What?”

“When I said I love you, I meant to say thank you. Or maybe I meant both. I do love you, and I love you separate from the thank you, but I didn’t actually say thank you. So thank you.”

He listened so compassionately it made you glad you’d spoken up about it.

“I guess I have some thank-you’s to give you as well. Thank you for every word you’ve said to me when you felt like you couldn’t talk. Thank you for those months where you were alone in Hogwarts. Thank you for trying so hard,” -he played with your fingers in his hands- “I know you did a lot of stuff just because I asked you to.”

“I did.”

He hummed. “You make it easy to love you.”

It was so far from how you perceived yourself and your actions it stopped you. You laughed, “Fred, I’m lots of things, but…”

“You’re more than easy to love. I swear I loved you before I knew you, because where else would it all have come from? There’s so much of it.”

“You’re getting sappy now,” you said ironically.

“Accept my sap, you sap. Or don’t be so you and I’ll find a way to overcome this.”

“I don’t want you to overcome this.”

“As if I could.”

You kissed his stubbley jaw. “Wanna try on my new dress?”

“Gosh, don’t I just wish I could. You’ll have to wear it instead, doll,” he said, voice dripping in ire.

You pulled out of his grasp to go find the dress. It was folded nicely in the bag and it hadn't been too long to crease. You stripped out of the clothes you'd been wearing to your underwear and bra and wrestled with the dress. It was a tight fit, though shapely. You couldn't reach the zipper between your shoulder blades and your bra straps ruined the whole thing, you decided, pulling it off.

"Fred," you called into the flat. "Can you come help me, please?"

"What?" he asked, appearing in the threshold of his bedroom. His eyes softened at the sight of you. "Oh, Ghost, don't you just look like something else."

You twirled, finishing with your back to him. "Zip me up please."

He did so. You had shivers at the proximity, leaning so that your hair wasn't in his way. He steadied the fabric at the small of your back and zipped you up so that the fabric was now tight to your breasts.

"Tada."

You turned to face him again. "How do I look?"

"Divine, my darling," he drawled dramatically. "Stand upon the bed so I might appraise you further, my dearest beloved."

You entertained this command, climbing onto his wobbly bed, feeling your sock-clad feet sink into the mattress. He walked back and forth the room.

"Simply divine," he said again, rubbing his forehead. "Godric, I must alert the press."

"Okay," you said, moving to hop down. "That's enough of that, Shakespeare."

He met you at the edge, looking up into your face with his hands on your waist. "Shakespeare was the playwright, not the actor."

"Let me down, contrarian bastard. Who even told you about Shakespeare?”

"Bastard! I might just tell your mother about that one."

He spun around, presenting his back to you. "Climb aboard, madam."

"What? Fred, I'm too heavy."

"Shut up."

You curled your hands around his neck. "You're so rude sometimes and I don't think you notice."

He reached his hands back to hook your calves into place. "Whatever you say. Are we ready to go?"

You sighed into his hair. "I regret this and we haven't even moved."

He straightened out. You felt his every step in your whole body, jostling you so that the dress was hiking higher and higher up your back. You feared your underwear were on public display and attempted to loosen one hand to fix it. You almost fell off.

"Hold on tightly!" he demanded. You'd done a lap of his room and were now off out into the rest of the flat. It was kind of fun. You pecked the top of his ear peeking through his hair, grinning to yourself.

He ruined the moment by taking off into an all out sprint. You knew if there were cameras pointed at you both that neither of you would've looked particularly attractive, Fred's face screwed up in concentration so that he didn't drop you and your own contorted in abject fear.

"What is your obsession with carrying me around like a sack of potatoes?" you shouted.

"You're a gorgeous little sack of potatoes!"

"Put me down!" He didn't, of course, charting a course around the sofa to almost slip on the rug. You wailed. "Weaselbee! Put me down or I want a divorce."

He stopped at the bathroom door, turning his neck to look at you. You adjusted so you were hovering over his shoulder, face to face.

"You can't divorce me, we haven't married yet,” Fred said.

"It's a preemptive divorce. And I want half of everything."

"I always knew you were a gold digger."

"Get a prenuptial if it bothers you so much."

"You can't get a prenup if you're already married."

"You just said we weren't!"

He leaned down to let you slide from his back. You breathed harshly, grateful for your feet to be back on solid ground. The dress was a little rumpled.

"Did I? I don't remember."

"That's definitely early onset-dementia."

Fred gasped. "You can't joke about that!"

"Apologies. So, do you seriously like the dress?"

Fred smirked at you. "You look brilliant. I have amazing taste."

"You should buy all my dresses from now on."

"I wasn't talking about the dress."

"As seductive as that is, I literally asked you specifically about the dress. For a smart guy, you lack basic comprehension."

"My 'bondrelenshun' is just fine, thanks."

You laughed at his joke, smiling beatifically.

He simpered. "Godric, you're lovely. Do a spin again."

You did as he asked. The delicate edge of the dress flared out like a tulip's petal, waved and soft on your thighs.

“Worth every penny,” he said, sidling forward.

He used the full length of his hand to steer your face up. You straightened your back, giving yourself the height you needed to kiss him.

Your stomach was aflame. Shyly, you brought your hand up to his waist, almost standing on tip-toes to kiss him back. Where your hand touched him you could feel the heat leaking through his shirt into your palm. He leaned down further so that you could go flat on your heels again, deepening the kiss. You felt yourself drift backwards to lean against the bathroom doorway.

The saying ‘give an inch and they’ll take a mile’ was astute in this situation. Fred took your retreat as an invitation, which it was, to crowd you, second hand travelling up your arm to your neck. He slid his finger under one of the spaghetti straps of your dress and pulled on it gently.

He slid it to one side. The dress fell down an inch. You laughed into his mouth.

Fred was trying to seduce you. Whether it was working or not was another thing. You were susceptible if nothing else, letting him move you about every which way till you were leaning on the bathroom threshold, trying to reach up on your toes to kiss him back.

He grinned to himself, hunching down so you wouldn’t have to go to all that trouble. He led one way and you followed with your mouth, eager and attentive to the subtleties in his movements. He tried his luck, fiddling with the strap on your dress. You laughed in glee, pushing the other strap down so that the fabric was held up by the peak of your breasts and nothing more.

You tried to reach back for the zip. “Don’t,” Fred implored you. “It’s such a nice dress. Don’t take it off.”

“You wanna fuck me in my dress? Fred, you romantic.”

“You’re so lewd,” he said, pulling you up against his chest. You kissed his neck once, twice.

“Yes, I want to fuck you in your dress,” he admitted.

“Magic words?”

“Please?”

You smiled all evil, eyes full of happiness. “I like it when you say please.”

“I’m not fucking you in our bathroom,” he said instead of replying, pulling you by the hand to his bedroom. Or, he could say, your bedroom. It smelled more like you than it did of him. You had a pile of clothes on his desk chair, your earrings were all over his desk and your dirty socks were at the bottom of his bed.

You sat on his bed and shuffled backwards against the headboard. Fred followed, laying you out flat so he could hover over you and put kisses wherever he felt you needed them. He brushed his thumb over the healed cuts on your leg and kissed your chest, straight down the middle of you till he was kissing the space between your cunt and your bellybutton through fabric.

You pulled it up. He would’ve laughed at your eagerness had he not experienced you like this before. He kissed the freshly exposed skin, nipping lightly to bask in your tremors.

“We never put music on when we do this,” you commented, your feet moving back and forth restlessly.

“What a weird way to say you’re bored,” Fred said, deadpan, resting the side of his face against your abdomen. He could hear your stomach making sounds.

You carded your hand through his hair. He rolled in the pleasure of such simple contact, tempted to sleep right there on your stomach.

“It’s funny listening to you breath,” you said. “I think, if you died, I could pretend to be you through your breathing alone.”

“Again, weird way to say that.”

“You’re impossible,” you said, pushing his face off your stomach. Fred frowned. Damned girl. He could almost predict the trick you were about to play.

You pushed him flat on his back and climbed atop him, planting yourself directly over his crotch. He felt his entire body heat up. You pushed your gentle hands flat-palmed up the length of his stomach, his shirt bunching up at the armpits, to plant your own row of kisses down his torso.

You shuffled backwards. Fred groaned, dropping his head back on the bed. You laughed at him knowingly, purposefully gracing the bulge forming in his trousers with the side of your hand with the pretense that you were adjusting yourself to plant kisses at the skin above his waistband.

Your face was much too pleased. Fred felt at once that you were about to do something evil, and he couldn't help from balling his hands into fists. Your cheek never left the skin of his stomach as you kissed him, even as you began unzipping his trousers.

You took the whole of him in your hand, face resting on his stomach, to pump lazily, sluggish movements that slowly took his semi to a full erection. Fred hardly minded if you took your time; you had all the time in the world.

When he was finally hard you inched forward, kissing a line until your lips were against the base of his shaft, the side, the tip. You licked the bead of precum that was forming and took the tip of him into your mouth.

He shuddered. You were so incredibly careful with him that he felt at once privileged and insane. Where you couldn't fit him in your mouth you jerked his dick. Where you could, you were a dream, licking and swallowing around him so that he found himself a whimpering, pathetic mess of a man. He weaved his fingers into your hair, pulling you back.

You whined, moving forward again. You took a deep breath, making valiant attempts to fit his length to the back of your mouth. Fred wasn't eager for this, afraid of making you gag.

"Enough, Ghost."

"C'mon," you pleaded. "Let me. Think how cute it will be when you cum in my mouth."

"Ghost," he said, voice an octave higher than usual.

You pouted but pulled your mouth away, using his abdomen as a cushion again while you pumped, rubbing your thumb over the tip of his head with the other hand at the base.

"Come use your mouth up here instead," he begged, weary of his oncoming climax. If you managed to undo him before you fucked it might take longer than either of you wanted for him to be ready again.

You crawled back up his chest, rubbing your clothed cunt against his aching dick. He pulled you down, grimacing at the accidental force of it, to kiss you again, opening your mouth up with his. When you pulled back a string of spit connected your lips.

You wrinkled your nose. "Grim," you said. Fred just laughed.

He pulled your underwear aside, feeling along your slit with his fingers. He retracted his hand, spit, pushed it back between your legs. He rubbed your entrance, smiling to himself at the way your eyes drifted closed.

He pushed his fingers inside in a long, dragging motion, curling them up into your walls. You shuddered, collapsing against him.

He always tried to be his most gentle at this part to put you at ease. You went boneless under his touch, keening when he spread his fingers inside you, soon relaxing in response to his ministrations.

"Alright," Fred said, dragging slick out of you when he pulled his fingers free. You sighed, annoyed even if you wouldn't say. "Lie down."

You extracted a perfect leg from his side to lie by his side. He quickly climbed to his knees to maneuver you into a terribly erotic position. He knew that this image of you would litter his thoughts for a long, long time. You looked at him with all the adoration he could ever wish for.

"Are you ready?" he asked from the space between your knees.

"Go slow?" you asked, outstretching your hands towards him.

"Anyway you want it, sweetness."

Your dress was all pushed up over your stomach. He positioned himself at your entrance, taking a tiny shallow thrust before reaching to hold your open hands.

He stayed kneeling, using his hips to thrust into you. You tightened your hands on his, white-knuckled. He was pleased, perhaps more than any man should be, at your reaction, your happy little whimper at the stretch.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Yep," you replied shortly, going back to making little sounds that made him feel like he might cum then and there.

You were extremely reactive, every thrust pulling a sound from you. He knew it made you embarrassed to be so loud, but it wouldn't stop him from trying his very best to ease them out of you. He was only a man, after all, and you looked so good, flushed and shy.

Fred had almost pushed his entire length in you when you closed your eyes. "Ghost," he cooed. "Won't you open your eyes?"

You shook your head.

"How else will you see how cute you looked all fucked open?"

Your full-body was wracked with shakes. "You can look for both of us."

He used where you were connected by hands to pull you down onto his entire length, bottoming out. He felt you constrict around him, the feeling sending heat deep into his stomach. Your eyes opened reluctantly, raising your head to look at where your bodies were connected.

He stayed seated deeply inside you, moving his hips up and down. You were biting your cheeks hard to keep from making sounds. Fred stole one of his hands back to press down on your abdomen. You cried out, trying to push his hand away.

"You felt that, Ghost?"

"You're evil."

"You didn't like it?"

"I don't want to play this game with you," you lied. You'd made it clear several times you really liked playing this game.

"If you didn't like it…" He pulled out.

"Fred."

"Y/N."

You sighed, your hips moving down to compensate for the loss. "I liked it," you admitted.

Fred pushed back in.

"But you already knew that," you said breathlessly.

He did.

He pushed his hand back down on your stomach the way you wanted him to and used it as leverage to thrust into where he thought you liked most. You gave up on being quiet, grip startlingly tight on his wrist.

He was constantly trying to assess what you were feeling during sex. It had been a big concern of his at the start of the relationship that you might do anything he asked you to without actually thinking about it if you wanted to do it, so he asked a lot of questions for his own peace of mind.

You seemed to be enjoying yourself, but verbal confirmation never hurt.

"How's that?" he asked, pushing his thumb into the soft flesh of your clit to draw stars. "Okay?"

You lifted your leg up, knee wobbling every time he drove into the hilt. "Yeah."

"Yeah? Feel good?"

"Feels good," you confirmed, voice clouded with pleasure. Fred held your leg up to take some of the effort from you. Now with both hands free you played with your breasts through your dress, the hard buds of your nipples. Fred was never a painter but he swore you were a work of art. He would've learned to draw, trained his hands until his fingers bled if he thought he could ever make something that captured the essence of you.

You'd never had a high threshold when it came to your climax, the sensitive skin of your clit may as well been an instant on button, especially as Fred refused to pace himself like you would've yourself, rubbing the sweet little bud until every inhale was a gasp. The leg he held closed instinctively, almost knocking his hand away.

You came in fits and starts. He cherished the way your chest lifted from the sheets, how you couldn't seem to draw breath, and the illicit moan that you failed to cover up with your hand.

He pulled out, weary of your shaking legs because of how rough he'd been with you. You protested weakly.

"You didn't cum," you pouted.

Fred palmed himself using your wetness as lube, grinning.

"You did," he said smugly.

You sat up, pushing your hands between your legs so you didn't fall straight flat again. "Can I?" you asked, eyes on his dick. He fell back on the bed, knees aching.

"You don't have to ask me," he said. He was more than happy for you to continue what you'd started earlier.

You shuffled forward, dress falling back down to cover you up. A loss, in his eyes. You arranged yourself to lie on your stomach, elevated by your elbows. You stuck your pink tongue out to lick the underside of his dick.

You'd only done oral a handful of times. Your first time, weeks ago, nervous and excited and adorably eager, you'd bitten him only twice and apologised so profusely he couldn't find it in himself to mind.

You'd made some strides since then, in Fred's humble opinion.

He gathered your hair out of your face to hold in one hand, the other rubbing the tightness out of your shoulders. You hummed gratefully, the sound causing him to twitch and buck into your mouth.

You giggled madly and did it again.

Fred groaned, pushing himself into your mouth gently so as to allow you time for adjusting. You didn't care for it, bobbing up and down with little regard for your comfort, though you were careful of your teeth.

You pulled all the way back to give special treatment to his head, slurping the dribble that worked its way down his shaft. He pulled you away from his shaft when he knew he was close, letting you pump with increasing speed until he'd spurted white down your fingers, down your arm.

You licked your hand clean. Fred resisted the urge to propose marriage, lest anyone else ever see do such a thing.

"Don't look at me like that," you said. "I didn't do anything."

"You know what you did," he said, helping you up from your stomach. You kneeled on the bed across from him, both your knees interlocking. You leaked a mess all over his sheets with little regard, taking his hand in yours to pepper kisses up his forearm.

"I love you, Freddie," you said.

Fred felt as though he could cry. He pulled you up, you protesting as your naked cunt slid up the fabric covering his thigh, leaving a wet mark.

"I love you too," he said, hoping to convey the tenderness he felt in his hands, pushing your hair out of your face to kiss your hairline.

You rocked against his thigh.

"You'll kill me," Fred said, sighing in defeat. He would let you.

Lee Jordan's birthday party was maybe the first outing that you and Fred had reason to attend as a couple, and it worried you sick.

You didn't know what to wear, or how to do your hair. Would Fred be disappointed if you looked bad? Would it embarrass him? What if he took your dressing up nice as a ploy to get the attention of other people?

You stressed out in your bedroom. Fred lounged on your bed, flicking through a scrapbook from your childhood.

"You were not a happy child," he said softly.

"No, I was miserable. All I wanted to do was sit in people's laps and read."

You shrugged off the dress you were wearing to try on another. Fred flipped a page.

"What's wrong with the one we bought last week?" Fred asked again.

"You know exactly what's wrong with it, Fred Weasley."

"We'll get you a brooch."

You peeled off the next dress and chucked it at him. He caught it effortlessly.

You tried on the next one. They were all too short or out of fashion, this one was long enough to cover everything important, except the scars on your leg. This didn't truly matter, but still. Fred Weasley would not have a fuck up for a girlfriend, you told yourself. You'd wear something sweet and you'd talk to all his friends, even if they all already knew the mess that you were in school.

You sank down onto your knees, peering into your wardrobe. Godric, was it you, or was it getting hard to breathe in here? You picked uselessly at the skin of your hip, wondering why even though you felt fine, this was a small setback, you felt like you could shut down. Why couldn’t you get past this? Why were you always that stupid young girl who covered her ears and stopped speaking when the smallest of things didn’t go right?

Fred sat down beside you, crossing his legs.

“We don’t have to go,” he said.

“Yes, we do.”

“Not if it’s going to upset you.”

You smiled at him. “I’m not upset. I just wanted to lie down.”

“Then lie down,” he prompted. “Your own personal pillow right here.”

You put your face in his lap. He set upon your hair instinctively, pulling threads of it from your face to tuck behind your ears. “What’s wrong with this one?”

“It doesn’t cover my leg.”

“It doesn’t have to, doll. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Plus, you have beautiful legs.”

You wriggled your face into the meat of his thigh. “I’m not sure I want people to know.”

He nodded. “Tights? You could wear pyjamas if you liked.”

“I want to look nice. I want people to know I’m different now.”

Fred brought his arms around you in a hug. “Ghost, you don’t have to prove anything to anyone. The only person whose opinion should matter to you is your own.”

“Your opinion matters to me.”

“Yeah, ditto babe. So let’s worry about ourselves and fuck everybody else, okay?”

“I’d prefer if we only fucked each other, also.”

He tickled the back of your neck. “Don’t be difficult, Y/L/N.”

You were reluctant to move from his lap, though your knees hurt and your make up was probably getting smudged against his trousers. He didn’t seem eager to move either, fingernails finding pathways through your hair to trace your scalp. You shuddered, shying away from his touch.

“My shy girl,” he murmured. “Wear what you want. If anyone so much as looks at you funny, I’ll take care of it.”

You went to tease him, say something saractasic, like, oh, Fred, my bad boy. But it was so nice, so sickeningly lovely, to have somebody say that to you and knew they meant it that all that came out was hot air.

You knew he’d let you lie there in his lap and forget the party even though he wanted to go. You reluctantly left the warmth of his lap to scrounge up a pair of tights to wear. It was an undignified performance to put tights on in front of somebody else, though Fred watched as though you were performing a magic trick. The dress you were wearing was dark, slate grey. You skipped your feet into your tall shoes, marveling at how tall they made you whilst standing next to Fred.

You lead him down the stairs and out through the front door. “Bye, Mrs Y/L/N!” Fred called out.

“Oh, bye darlings! Be safe!”

“Yep, see you!” you called back, closing the door behind you both.

You shivered all the way down past the wards. Fred held his hand out. You accepted, letting him side-along you to the path outside Lee Jordan’s flat.

He’d been traveling for a few months with work, and was now home for at least a little while, Fred had told you. Fred was more than excited to see his friend from school, the happiness basically rolling off of him in waves.

Fred and his friends had always been popular, a fact you conveniently forgot. You felt wickedly special that out of all the girls in your year, Fred had somehow needed your with you. You didn’t have to knock, the door flung open, lights and music streaming out of the door.

“His neighbours can’t be very happy,” you mumbled, feeling yourself drift closer to Fred’s side in reaction to the sheer amount of people. Most you recognized.

“What was that, doll?”

You shook your head, it didn’t matter. Lee Jordan was surrounded by people, George close to his side. Fred cheered. “Lee!”

They engaged in a friendly bro hug, patting each other on the back. You watched them celebrate, smiling.

“You know my girlfriend, Y/N,” Fred said, pulling back to wrap his arm around your shoulder.

“Y/N! Girlfriend now? That means he can be my best friend again, right?” he asked, laughing in goodnature.

“Happy birthday,” you said, shifting from foot to foot.

“Thank you, thank you! I’ll be drinking soup from a straw soon enough.”

They descended into a conversation you couldn’t quite edge into. It was always the same when it came to the twins and Lee Jordan, had been that way at school. When they talked it was a dance you didn’t know. Lee ushered Fred into having a drink. When he offered you something to drink you accepted, even though you weren’t keen.

You caught George’s eye. “Angie’s in the kitchen with Alicia, if you want to go see her! It’s a bit quieter in there.”

“Yeah? She won’t mind?”

“No! She asked me if you’d be here tonight, she wants to see you!”

You blushed. “Okay, I’ll go look.” You were both speaking quite loudly to be heard over the music, the vibrations so strong you could feel it in your chest.

His flat wasn’t large enough to get lost. You wandered into the kitchen, feeling nervous, to find Angelina and a group of Gryffindor girls you knew via association. You took a large gulp of your drink in preparation.

“Hi, Angelina.”

“Hey! Guys, this is Y/N, you remember. She’s Fred’s girlfriend.”

“Wow,” Alicia said. “That makes you and Angie, like, sisters-in-law.”

Angelina shifted where she was leaning on the countertop to make room for you. You put your cup down behind you and leaned back too, feeling the sound of your heart in your ears.

A girl you didn’t know the name of but remembered as being nice enough smiled at you. “Fred Weasley, huh. How do you deal with all that? I’d be looking over my shoulder waiting to be pranked at every corner.”

You smiled at her in understanding. “Fred never plays games on me.”

The group of girls couldn’t believe it. “What, never?”

“No,” you smiled nervously. Was he supposed to?

“That’s so cute,” Alicia said.

“I’m jealous,” Angelina said. “George won’t leave me alone. He charmed my hairbrush to turn into a rubber rat when I picked it up this morning. I screamed bloody murder.”

Your stomach turned. “Is it a bad thing?” you asked, insecure.

“No! It’s adorable,” one girl jumped to say.

“Plus, he’s probably a bit worried you’ll get freaked out,” one girl said. You knew her face but not her name. The girl next to her elbowed her in the side.

“What? She’s-“ her friend stomped on her foot. She looked appropriately scolded.

Somebody coughed.

“Have you seen Lee’s cake?” Angelina asked you. You downed the rest of your drink before answering.

“No, is it cool?”

“I think it’s one of those trick cakes,” Alicia said, mixing her drink with a straw. “Like, somethings gonna jump out of it. Refill?” she asked you.

“Yes, I think so.”

She grabbed your arm, tugging you over to the table of drinks in the living room part of the flat. It was so crowded you couldn’t see Fred anymore.

“I’m Alicia,” she said, ditching her cup for a fresh one. “You already know that, but I thought I’d introduce myself properly.”

“I’m Y/N.”

“Yeah, I know.” She laughed to herself, pouring a shot's worth of something into your cup and her own. She topped them both off with lemonade and ice. “Ignore Melissa, she’s just jealous. You and Angie made away with the cutest guys here.”

You laughed abruptly. “I didn’t really notice.”

“Fred’s a nice guy. Plus, I hope it’s okay to say, you seem heaps happier now than you did in school.”

“I - I am,” you stuttered. “I’m much happier.”

She nodded, bringing her drink to her lips. “That’s great! School isn’t for everyone, you know?”

You took a convenient sip of your own, unsure of what to say. Somebody pushed past you, almost sending your drink all over the place. There was a gaggle of boys laughing so loudly they may as well have been standing right next to you.

“When did you and Fred get together?” she asked.

“About 3 months ago.”

“Really? I thought you were dating in school.”

“No, just friends.”

“I wish I had a friend like,” she laughed, eyes following somebody across the room. “Ew, who let Cronus in?”

You felt your entire heart drop into your stomach. Cronus, as in Jonathan, your ex-boyfriend? Alicia pointed through the crowd, and sure enough, Jonathan was laughing with a group of girls, his head tilted back.

“You don’t like him?” you asked. Everyone liked Jonathan.

She shook her head. “He gives me such smarmy feelings.” Her hand dropped.

You hugged your arms tight across your chest. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him in person - he was the year above in school, had left before you even made friends again. The version of you that knew Jonathan didn’t exist anymore.

As though he could feel your eyes on him, he looked up. A smile warped his face. You looked down at your chest, heart pounding. You should go find Fred, or George.

And ruin their night? Right. You let yourself have a stressed moment of panic. It wasn’t as though he’d approach you.

“Y/N?”

You looked up, a deer in headlights. He was barely taller than you and somehow still managed to look down his nose at you. You felt yourself slip into a version of you that didn’t exist anymore, smaller and neater.

“Cronus,” Alicia said.

Jonathan smiled like something was hilarious. “You look great. And you too, Spinnet.”

“Thanks,” you muttered.

He was entirely too close. You shrank into yourself, covering your chest tightly.

“New style?”

“Yes,” you answered, almost automatic.

“It suits you. Couldn’t play mouse forever, I suppose.”

You faltered. “People change.”

“No, they don’t. Say, Alicia, could I have a moment alone here?”

“You’re alright,” Alicia said, planting her feet. “I think I’ll stay.”

His lip curled. He smoothed it all down, falling back into his friendly facade. “Come on, Spins. Me and Y/N were a thing before, you know? Let us get reacquainted.”

“Alicia, stay,” you said, trying your best to stare him right in the face. “Please.”

He put his hand to his chest, looking so sincerely offended you almost believed him. “Y/N, have I done something? I thought we ended on good terms.”

“We ended just fine. I don’t want to be reacquainted, is all.”

“I see.” His eyes darkened. He was annoyed now, his sense of justice taking over. You’d been rude to him. Jonathan couldn’t stand rudeness. “You know, I liked you better when you didn’t talk so much.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” Fred had to shout to be heard over the din of the room. The people closest to you stilled. You felt yourself relax at his arrival, though his tone of voice sent shivers down your back. He was straight backed, Lee Jordan by his side, watching with as much surprise as you imagined you held in your own expression.

Jonathan turned to him, eyebrows quirked. “Weasley.”

“What did you just say to her?”

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “I said I liked it better when she didn’t talk. You know, she’s a rude thing.”

Lee Jordan clapped Fred on the shoulder. “A misunderstanding, Freddie, I’m sure.”

“She’s hardly rude,” Alicia denied, putting her drink down with enough force to have it sloshing over the edge. “Learn to take rejection with grace, Cronus.”

“Are you guys making a joke? I asked little mouse how she was, she responded with rudeness. I hardly see how I’m out of order.”

“I highly doubt that,” Fred said. “Maybe you’re just a tosser.”

Jonathan held his hands up, a picture of innocence. He looked between you and Fred, eyes calculating the space between you, how you’d moved closer to him without thinking. His eyes narrowed.

“I see. Weasley knows you well, I’d say, from the strength of his reaction. Very well. He know your dirty little secret?” he asked, grinning, hand drifting to his thigh.

“Some men can see past it, Jon. Don’t jump ship at the first sign of difficulty,” you said, fists balled.

He smirked. “More fool him. God knows the only reason I stuck around. You’re so quiet, but you have some volume in bed, don’t you sweetheart?” he said this quietly, smugly.

It was a blur of movement. Fred struck Jonathan so fast and so hard he was on the ground before you realised he was going to do anything at all. You found yourself clambering backward in surprise, almost pushing down the whole drinks table behind you. Fred wrung his fist, throwing his fingers out, hissing.

“You say something like that about my girl again, I’ll kill you,” Fred said, much too cool.

Jonathan sprung to his feet, incensed, quicker than you thought he’d be able to. His cheek was already red and purple. He sniffed, pulling his wand from his sleeve. You took yours from your own pocket and pointed it at him. Multiple people did the same.

“Oh, do us all a favor and fuck off home,” Lee Jordan said. “Take it like a man, I beg.”

“Yeah, fuck this,” Jonathan said. He pushed a path through the crowd, almost toppling over some poor dyed nearest the door.

“And you can get back to your party,” George called. Tens of pairs of eyes turned away guiltily.

Alicia rubbed a hand up your shoulder blade. “Are you okay? Godric, what an arsehole.”

“Y/N?” Fred moved to your side. The way he said your name had tears forming in your eyes. You willed them away, smiling, your lips wobbling.

Alicia patted your shoulder, “I’ll leave you to it. I’m in the kitchen if you need me.”

“Thank you, Lis,” Fred said.

He seemed hesitant to touch you. You felt a mixture of shame and guilt, holding your hand out towards his. He let you take it, let you assess his bruising knuckles.

“Are you okay?” you asked him.

He sighed. There was anger in his frame, which you were completely used to. “I’m embarrassed. Are you okay?”

You brushed the pad of your thumb over his knuckles. “I feel like I’m gonna fall over.”

“Okay, okay,” he pushed his arm under your shoulder, leading you down the hallway and into the bathroom. He left the door open, shut the lid of the toilet and encouraged you to sit down.

You knew you should talk to him, it was important, but you just couldn't open your mouth. You wrung your hands out.

Fred squatted in the space in front of you.

"Okay?"

You couldn't speak. You met his eyes and couldn't choose one, moving back and forth and back again. He caught your forearm in one hand, pushing your hand to his chest like he desired the closeness.

"Doll, what can I do?"

You shook your head. Your throat was dry. "It's okay," you said.

"Is it?" he asked.

"Did you hurt yourself?" you asked, eyes drifting to his other hand. His bruised hand.

"It could be worse."

You could hear yourself breathing. Slightly too fast, too loud.

"I'm sorry if I scared you," he said.

You took him in. Crouched down in front of you, looking up into your face, concern lining the corners of each feature. His freckles were stark in the bright bathroom lights.

You wanted to say, no, Freddie. You've never scared me once. But you weren't sure that was the right thing.

He brought his ruined hand up to grasp your other forearm, your wrists, grip gentle and firm to press both of your hands to his chest. He spread your fingers over his heart and started counting, so quietly it could've been confused for the buzzing lights.

You exhaled raggedly. "I wasn't scared."

"No?" he asked, covering your hands with his.

Your fingers tightened in the fabric of his shirt. "No."

You counted to yourself until you felt like you could speak properly again. You remembered, suddenly, where you were. What you were doing.

You could see Jonathan hitting the floor again. Could see Fred, steely-eyed, could hear his voice. My girl.

"Sorry," you said.

"Don't be. My fault."

"You always say that."

"It's always true."

"Thank you for defending me. He surprised me."

"I didn't know he'd be here, I swear."

"I didn't think you did," you said. "Want me to fix your hand?"

He shook his head. "If I'm gonna hit someone, I should probably deal with the consequences."

“The consequences…” you brought his bruised hand to your mouth and kissed it.

“This is positive reinforcement,” he said, though he didn’t pull away.

“He only said that for a reaction. I’m not even loud in bed.”

Fred said nothing, looking vaguely amused.

“Or, I wasn’t,” you amended.

He stood up, letting you keep his hand in your grasp. He tilted your head back like you were a posable doll and kissed your forehead. “If you are or you aren’t, that twat shouldn’t get to say stuff like that in front of your friends.”

“They’re more your friends,” you said gently.

“You’re breaking George’s heart and he can’t even hear you.”

You pouted. “We should go back to the party.”

“In a minute,” he said, looking down into your face with an unnameable expression. “Let me look at you.”

You obliged, looking right back.

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#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley #smut #fem reader #reader uses she her pronouns #reader insert #implied referenced self harm #please be careful reading #Fred weasley x reader smut #no voldemort au

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rein-ette · 3 years

Note

If you still fancy a drabble prompt, I've always seen Canada and England having a very warm and comfortable relationship- if it interests you, maybe a prompt could be one going to the other for advice about something?

It does indeed interest me, thank you for the prompt! I've had a bunch of Mattie-Arthur scenarios swimming around in my mind for a long time, so I'm glad to have a chance to put one of them down on paper. As always, this was supposed to be a "drabble" but magically lengthened itself the more I thought about it -- I don't think drabbles are supposed to have historical notes.

"Come in."

Matthew shifted his pile of papers to his other arm and pushed through the door of Arthur's office. Inside, the fading afternoon light illuminated the rich mahogony floor and danced on the spines of the hundreds of books that lined each wall. Remembering the excitement he felt when he was first allowed to peruse these shelves, Matthew couldn't help but smile softly to himself.

Arthur himself sat at his desk, one ankle propped up on his knee as he stared idly out the window. Matthew could just barely see a white trim of bandages that peeked out from underneath his collar. That dimmed his smile. It had been more than two years now since the war had ended in Europe, but Arthur still looked as gaunt as he did during the days when engines still roared over London and — though Matthew had not thought it possible — even more exhausted. The worn smile Arthur offered him said as much, and Matthew pushed away a twinge of guilt.

Arthur jerked his chin at the seat in front of his desk and Matthew sat, stacking his documents in a neat pile in front of him. Instead of immediately going through them, however, he gazed worriedly at his old guardian.

"How are you feeling?"

Arthur sighed and shifted in his seat, dropping his leg and turning to face Matthew. He stared at the ancient, ink-stained wood of his desk for a while, and Matthew could almost see the warring emotions on Arthur's face as his desire to be honest fought with his lingering instinct to conceal and protect Matthew from the worries that plagued him. But because they were past such pretenses, he finally murmured, "Tired."

Matthew hummed sympathetically in response. There wasn't much he could do or say to change that, and he expected the reports he brought would only exhaust Arthur further. So he merely asked, "Are you remembering to apply the salve twice a day?"

Matthew flushed a little when Arthur rolled his eyes at him good-naturedly, realizing he was fussing like Arthur was his child, instead of the other way around. Thankfully, Arthur spared him further embarrasment by only answering a tad dryly that yes, he was actually capable of following simple instructions. Matthew mumbled out a reply before deciding that he might as well get on with what he was actually here for, knowing Arthur had never been one for small talk. Clearing his throat, he slid the top half of his stack of papers across the desk.

"They sent you a copy of Lord Mountbatten's plan, I think with annotations, though I haven't gone through the whole thing. And this part is the proposal for the national flag. Also," he pulled a cream letter from the pile and passed that over as well, "India asked that you be there personally, in August," he finished.

Arthur hummed and rifled through the papers. Matthew couldn't quite read his expression. After a few moments, he stacked them again and placed them to the side, with the letter on top. "Thanks. I'll go through them later."

Matthew nodded. "And here I just summarized the letters and stuff from the others. I've left them back in the box, in case you wanted to read them yourself. There's not too much going on really. That you don't already know."

"Yes. Thank you. This is a great help, Matthew, truly."

"You're welcome," Matthew murmured, and watched Arthur scan the notes before setting them aside as well. His eyes traced the shadows underneath the other nation's eyes, before dropping back down to the cotton bandages around his neck. He wondered if Arthur was sleeping at all.

"Is there anything else I can do? I'm heading back to Ottawa next week, but if you need me to take over some stuff for a bit, I can stay longer —"

"No, no, it's fine," Arthur cut him off. "Like I said, I'm just a little tired, that's all. But all this," he waved a hand at the documents , "isn't anything new."

Matthew frowned. "Isn't it?"

"Hmm?"

"I mean, I know the paperwork isn't new, but, these," he drew a breath, "reforms, and the war, of course. That's — I mean. No one's, you know, had to deal with that, before."

Arthur frowned, and traced a finger along the edge of his desk, before sighing, "No, I guess not." He turned again to look out the window behind him. After several long moments, he said, quietly, "But it's not entirely unexpected, either. I just—" The corner of his lips jerked down, and for a moment it seemed as if he was almost in pain. He drew in a breath, and said, "It's just. Difficult. That's all. To—but." He stopped again, grimaced, as if at his own ineloquence. Finally, he said, slowly, as carefully as if he was embroidering the words onto the air between them, "The world is changing. Let us not stand in the way, lest they make us out to be fools."

Watching him struggle, Matthew found himself at a loss as well. Never had he imagined that Arthur — sharp-tongued, quick-witted Arthur, who could neither be bullied nor silenced, who could quote from more books than Matthew had ever read — would be scrambling for words. But then, as he watched Arthur's shoulders curve in towards himself like Matthew had seen a thousand times before in another stubborn, sandy-haired nation who also seemed to have endless words but never quite the right ones, he knew what he needed to do.

Smiling again, Matthew stood, drawing on Arthur's arm so he would turn to face him and said, "I think you need a hug."

Unnecessarily Long Notes are Unnecessarily Long

I didn't state the specific setting of this scene, but the timing of the historical events mentioned means it has to have been sometime between June and August of 1947. Despite the fact that Mattie says "not much is going on", my lord, a lot was going on in 1947; hence why Artie is doing his best impression of the walking dead. Besides the Indian and Pakistan independence movement, officially achieved in August 1947 which is alluded to (Mountbatten, or 3 June Plan, was the precursor to the Indian Independence Act of 1947), Europe was also going through complete social upheaval. To mention just a couple highlights: Germany was in such ruin it was said to have returned to the Roman ages, Britain was rationing harder than ever despite the war having ended, and of course Mr. Truman and Mr. Stalin were gearing up for the Great Showdown. A quote I like which captures the feeling of the time is from H.G. Wells: "[where] other civilizations rolled and crumbled down, the European civilization was, as it were, blown up." [quoted by Tony Judt, Postwar]. Also directly concerning Arthur was the issue of Palestine, which as we all know was and is contentious, to say the very least.

Arthur's attitude to decolonisation is...complicated. Clearly I went with a softer view here, but certainly not all (or even many) British held the view in 1947 that the Empire should be decolonized at all. Hence Arthur during this time was probably a raging hypocrite and, if he wasn't already, at least 50% psychologically unstable. However, I allowed Arthur a little dignity here, in part because he's 2000 years old and as such should have a tiny more perspective than us humans, and also because the weakness of the Empire was much more evident to those in government and the army. Even if it wasn't popular opinion yet, anyone with half a braincell could see that every day Britian didn't decolonize was costing them more than they could afford. Additionally, Britain did decolonise much, much faster than all the other powers and in a relatively peaceful and orderly manner, though what ensued in the countries they left behind was neither. I should also add that Matthew is not the most objective of narrators either -- Canada, despite being a former colony, was still strongly Anglophilic, especially right after WWII. Still, I hope ya'll won't begrudge Arthur a hug.

#hws england #hws canada #fic #ask #rainbowfruitpastilles #needcake i'm working on urs next #ngl urs is kinda hard #but thats what practice is about #in the meantime send more asks :D #this is fun #fun times with the commonwealth

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alj4890 · 3 years

Text

All Through the Night

A Choices: The Royal Romance Dark AU

@gkittylove99 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg @twinkleallnight @amandablink @neotericthemis @mm2305 @sfb123 @iufilms @tessa-liam @busywoman

Masterlist

Catch up here with Prologue and Part 1

Part 2

Fydelia...

"Madeleine dear, have you seen the lost book of Aurelia?" Regina called out when she noticed the countess passing by. "There were some notes in there that I think can be useful for Maxwell."

"No mam." Madeleine stepped into their library.

The walls were covered with a variety of the history of the five kingdoms and the mysterious sixth. Madeleine had spent years studying every single myth in the hopes of finding hints of cures and such for the ailments of her people. Her usually sharp gaze softened at the faded leather spines. They had been her source of comfort long before Regina arrived.

When her parents were alive they rarely spared their daughter a single glance. As long as she was quiet, well behaved, and properly attired; they expected little else from her. She had been their disappointment. Her father had hoped for a son while her mother hoped to never have a child.

She did not feel grief when they died. In fact, she had rarely felt any emotion until Regina took over her care. Through her cousin's encouragement and treating her with kindness, Madeleine began to understand happiness and contentment.

She also began to long for love.

The stories she read about the great love Queen Kenna shared with Dominic had made her begin to daydream about her finding someone of her own. She rather liked the idea that the creatures of the Dark Kingdom fell in love instantly. It certainly took all the guess work out of he loves me, he loves me not.

Though Regina was a kind and nurturing soul, Madeleine wanted something more.

And she had found it one afternoon with the banished prince of the Dark Kingdom.

**************

A year ago, the capital of Cordonia...

Madeleine ran down the sidewalk as a torrential downpour began. Being lost in thought, she had wandered away from the market place without paying attention. Townhomes with small parks and cottages with flower gardens dotted the quiet neighborhood.

"Oh!" Madeleine slid down, landing not only upon her left ankle, but also in a puddle.

She closed her eyes at the painful throbbing. Tears began to intermingled with the rain falling upon her face. She tried to standup but ended right back in the puddle.

For the life of her, she couldn't think of a single spell that she could use to help herself. It was part curse and actually a blessing to others that a witch could rarely use magic to improve their own circumstances. Other than being able to take potions to improve their physical health, most spells could only be used for someone else.

If she had asked Regina to come with her for a visit to the capital, then she could have healed Madeleine easily. She probably knew a spell offhand to immediately dry her clothes. But then again, Regina was the most powerful out of their coven.

She attempted to stand once more, only for a cry of frustration mixed with agony to slip out.

She could hear footsteps rushing towards her from behind.

She turned her head and saw a man. Her lips parted at how handsome he was. His drenched clothing revealed what was a definite muscular body. His blonde hair had darkened from the rain. But his eyes...they were the most intense blue she had ever seen.

"Are you badly hurt?" He asked.

She nodded. "It's my ankle. Either a bolt of lightening struck when I fell or I definitely heard a definite pop."

Without another word, he scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed no more than a feather.

He kicked open the wrought iron gate and ran with her into his townhome.

"There's a light switch behind you." He waited for her to find it then continued on into his living room. "Here." He set her down on the couch. I'll try to find you something dry to put on and then we'll have a look at that ankle."

Her lips parted then closed as he dashed upstairs. She took advantage of her solitude to study what was clearly the home of a bachelor. Her eyes touched on the masculine décor of oversized leather furniture and no pictures on the walls. There no trinkets of any sort nor any type of color to add to the brandy colored leather and beige walls.

She turned her attention back to her ankle and winced when she tried to rotate her foot.

"That will teach you not to do that again."

Madeleine jumped at the sound of his voice tinged with amusement.

He handed her a towel then knelt beside her. Using another towel, he dried her foot and leg after removing her shoe.

"Thank you, um..." She bit down on her bottom lip when his fingers gently pressed around the swollen area.

"Leo." He looked up at her. "And who might you be?"

"Madeleine." She sucked in a painful gasp when he lifted her foot.

"Madeleine," he shook his head, "I believe it is just a bad sprain."

She slumped back in relief at that news. "I think so too."

He took off his shirt off and pulled a dry one on.

Her parted lips at the sight brought a grin to his face.

"If we're going to get you an x-ray just to make sure nothing is broken, then you'll have to stay in your dress." His eyes roamed over her petite figure. "I don't have anything that will work for you out in public."

"Yes, of course." She lowered her eyes. "Thank you for your assistance. I'm certain I would still be sitting in the puddle if you hadn't come by."

"I saw you slip down from my bedroom window." He scooped her up once more and carried her out to his garage. "Don't worry Lady Madeleine, we'll have you fixed up in no time."

Her head jerked up. "How do you know I'm a noble?"

He paused then shrugged. "With your beauty and the way you speak, it seemed likely that you were one." He set her in the passenger seat of his car. "Then again," he winked at her, "perhaps I was hoping to be your knight in shining armor."

Her pale skin flared with color from his flirting.

Leo chuckled at the sight then patted her hand.

After taking her to a nearby emergency care clinic, he then drove her back to her hotel.

He carried her and her crutches to her room despite her arguments that she could manage now that she had something to lean on.

"You shouldn't trouble yourself, Mr.--"

"Leo." He insisted. "And it is no trouble at all, I assure you." He set her down on a chair. "So, what brings you to the capital?"

"Nothing in particular." She lowered her eyes. "I had a few council meetings to attend and then I decided to stay over for a few days."

Leo nodded. "Wanted to get away?"

"Yes." Madeleine twisted the hem of her skirt. "I shouldn't feel this way. My life is filled with responsibilities that I actually enjoy handling." She lowered her eyes. "But sometimes..."

"It isn't enough." He smiled at her. "I've been there."

"You have?"

"Of course." He stretched his legs out and took a deep breath. "Though, I think the worst thing that can happen to someone is to have those very responsibilities that they thrive on taken away."

He bent down when he saw her struggle to prop her foot up on a small table. Before she could utter the words that he needn't feel like he had to keep helping her, he had slid it over closer.

"Thank you." She smiled shyly at him. "If you don't mind my prying, what responsibilities do you have?"

His easy smile dimmed. "Ah, none."

Her eyes widened. "But you seem to understand --"

"Like I said," he got up and went to stand at her window. "Nothing is worse than being denied what you are made for."

"What were you made for?" She prodded.

He glanced at her from over his shoulder with a smirk. "Me? To be king."

Her eyes widened with realization. The infamous handsome looks. The chivalry. The recognition of her nobility.

"You're the Dark King's son." She whispered in disbelief.

He turned to fully face her. "And you're The Guardian's ward, the very one she gave up being queen for."

Madeleine swallowed nervously. "I--I'm sorry you lost your kingdom." She gripped her hands together in her lap. "I heard about your father naming Liam as heir."

A brief flash of anger appeared in his blue eyes. "Yes, it seems that my embarrassment of not being a vampire extends to all areas of Cordonia."

"No!" She lifted her hand toward him as if to try and comfort him. "It isn't anything you could control." Her brow furrowed. "I'm certain you would have been an excellent king."

He returned to his chair. "Do you?"

She nodded. "I've always had a gift of, well...of sensing a person's true nature."

"Sounds impressive." Leo reached for her hand. "And what do you sense with me?"

Madeleine bit down on her bottom lip. "I can't quite find the words, but I sense great things in your future." A blush formed on her cheeks as she locked eyes with him. "And that I am somehow tied to your destiny."

He lifted her hand to his lips. "I think you're right."

***************

It had to have been fate for their paths to cross. The young man had been wandering Europe in search for a place he could belong.

"Once I saw you," Leo told her late one night, "I knew I had finally found the right place."

She had lost her heart to him. His stories of not being loved by his father matched her own, especially in being considered a great disappointment. She had not been born a boy and he had not been born a vampire.

There was little either could do about it.

Leo admitted that he had gone in search of a vampire in Sweden to try and turn him. Something though went wrong when he was given the Vampire's kiss. He did not change. He had remained in his mortal form even after completing the procedure by drinking from the Chalice.

There was no increase of strength. There was no vulnerability to the sun. There was nothing new or different about him.

Only further frustration and heartache.

Madeleine kept their encounters to herself. It wasn't that she didn't trust Regina. She simply didn't trust what she might say to Constantine.

The King continued to invite Regina to visit. He understood her reasons for refusing his marriage proposal but he refused to never see her again. Since she was in love with him too, she went each time he called for her.

Madeleine didn't approve of their relationship, yet she also kept this thought to herself. She had seen as a child the effect speaking one's mind had on others and she never wanted anyone to know her plans or opinions.

But then she began to sneak away to see Leo.

He had been the first person she had actually opened up to. His charm and confidence seemed to spill over and infect her with an openness she never knew she possessed.

Leo was interested in everything about her, especially her knowledge of spells and potions. For nearly a year, he marveled at her intelligence and encouraged her to dig further to find ways to push magic to its very limit.

Then one night, he shared a dream he had recently had.

"You and I were the King and Queen of the Dark Kingdom." His blue eyes flashed with emotion as he gazed off into the distance. "The people were overjoyed to have the true heir back within the fold."

"We were married?" She asked.

"We were." He squeezed her tight, drawing a startled gasp from her lips. "Everything was how it was meant to be for me. I had claimed the black crown for my own."

"What about your father and Liam?"

He turned toward her. Images from his dream of their ashes floating about his feet brought a slight smile to his lips.

"They weren't there."

"Did you feel in the dream that they approved?"

"Of course." He replied. "I have no doubt they finally saw my true strength."

"You would be an excellent ruler, my love." She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "No one has as big a heart like you."

With her head pressed to his chest, he softly agreed. "Yes, I believe I would be just the ruler this country needs."

As the months passed, he fed her little by little tidbits of stories he claimed he had heard. The creatures of the Dark Kingdom were miserable. They were being ill treated by their once beloved monarch.

"I can't stand the thought of any of them suffering." He paced back and forth before her.

"Of course you can't." She replied. "I wish there was something we could do."

His steps faltered. Turning toward her, his sharp eyes filled with tears.

"Do you truly wish you could help them, Maddie?"

"I do." She reached for his hands. "It seems so wrong to be given these magical powers and not use them in some way to help your people."

He smiled warmly at her. She had stopped referring to the people of the Dark Kingdom as monsters. It had taken a long time to get her to do so, but he knew it would all be well worth it in the end.

Leo sat down before her. "If anyone can find a way for us to take our rightful place, it is you," he pressed a kiss to her hands, "my love."

Madeleine blushed at his faith in her. She loved that he saw her as no one else did. How could she not spend every single spare moment she had in pursuit of a way for him?

"I'll try, darling." She vowed. "I'll do everything within my power to return what is rightfully yours."

He captured her lips in a ravenous kiss.

**************

Now...

"I received your message." Leo climbed the trellis to Madeleine's balcony. "Did you find something?"

"I think I have." She showed him the lost book of Aurelia. "It is taking me a while to decipher, but I believe that what you need will be in here."

He stared at the book that might possibly hold his future.

"For instance," she opened it to the third chapter, "a witch held a vampire hostage to discover where their super strength and mind powers originate from."

His eyes narrowed on the crude symbols meant to be letters of the ancient Aurelian language.

"And you believe you will find a way to destroy Father's powers?" He asked.

"No." She gently placed her arm around his waist. "I believe I will find a way to give you those same powers without the vampiric nature."

His eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"I am." She smiled up at him. "What will your first act as king be?"

He returned her smile. "After naming you queen, it will be to heal our fractured kingdom once and for all."

****************

That same evening, near a bustling market place in the capital...

"Lady Hana?"

Hana spun around and smiled. "Lord Beaumont?"

"Maxwell, please." He grinned at her. "It's nice to meet you."

She shook his hand then gestured to the lady beside her. "This my best friend and business partner, Riley Brooks."

"Hi." Riley shook his hand. "Hana said that you would be our tour guide."

"Well," he slipped his hands in his pockets while summoning his charming façade, "I don't like to brag but I do know all the best places to see in Cordonia."

"Great!" Hana relaxed some. "We have quite the list prepared of what we want to see most."

"Oh?" His eyes widened when she handed him a notebook. "Wow. You, uh, you weren't kidding."

"We're vloggers." Riley explained. "Our subscribers depend on us to be thorough with the places we travel to."

"Then you've got the right kind of tour guide." He hesitated when he came to Riley's section. "Interested in the supernatural?"

"Yep." Riley laughed. "You wouldn't think it of us," she nudged a giggle out of Hana, "but we have a lot of fun exploring the creepy."

"Not that we have ever come across a ghost or creature of the night." Hana added. "But we refuse to give up."

"I see." Maxwell mumbled. He looked up at them with a grin. "I'm a fraidy cat myself."

"That's okay." Riley shrugged. "It won't be the first time Hana and I have to venture into the unknown alone."

"She means supposed haunted houses and woods." Hana added with a chuckle.

"But that's not all I want to see." Riley pointed at another section of her list. "Night clubs and historical spots are another part I want to spend time on."

Maxwell shut the binder. "How about for your first venture into Cordonia's nightlife we go dancing?" He flashed another dimpled grin. "No need to spook you on the first night here."

"Sounds good to me." Riley replied when Hana tilted her head in agreement. "Lead the way."

******************

"Why did we come here of all places?" Drake grumbled.

"I sent Leo a message to meet us here for a drink." Liam sat down at one of the bar's balcony chairs. "He hasn't replied but I am still hopeful he will show up."

He had always enjoyed this particular bar simply for its view. The bustling marketplace of Cordonia's capital was the perfect place to people watch.

It was one of his favorite past times and he usually came by himself. Tonight though, he had dragged Drake and Sherry along while forcing Rashad to promise to meet up with them once he concluded a business dinner.

"Here we go." Sherry set some glasses down. "One whiskey for Mr. Grumpypants."

"Hey!"

"Sorry, I meant Sir Grumpypants." She teased. "One scotch for Liam." She sat down between them, "...and one--" her eyes began to glow as she zeroed in on an all too familiar figure down in the crowd.

"Sherry?" Drake poked her when she stilled.

"What is it?" Liam became alarmed by her fury forming.

Her eyes narrowed to mere slits. "He wouldn't dare!"

Sparks shot off from her hands as she shoved her chair back.

"Sherry!" Liam grasped her arm to try to calm her down before her emotions gave away what she was. He believed though that he should be able to alter the few patron’s memory here yet he hoped it wouldn't come to that."

"Who are you--" Drake's jaw spasmed as he tried to remain under control. He finally saw what she had seen. "It's that damn Beaumont!"

Liam turned to scan the crowd. He noticed the hunter walking with a lady on each arm. His brow furrowed at the strange sight. He knew Sherry had secured for the most part a future with him, and yet he was out with two--

Liam sucked in a strangled breath. The lady on his left had lifted her face to look at the upper level bars and restaurants. Her deep brown eyes met his and she smiled before continuing on her study of her surroundings.

Sherry jerked her arm out of his grasp. "I'm going to burn off some pieces of his body for this!"

Drake didn't bother to help stop her, hoping she would indeed hurt the man.

Liam shook himself out of the haze seeing the strange woman had caused. "Wait!" He took off after his relative. "Sherry!"

Drake heaved a groan, downed his drink, and begrudgingly followed in their wake.

******************

"...and if you are looking for the latest fashions, Hana, this store has a direct from Paris line--"

Maxwell took a step back when Sherry appeared before them.

Hana and Riley looked first at the furious woman then at his shocked face in curiosity.

"What do you think you're doing?" Sherry hissed.

Maxwell swallowed uneasily. "Will, uh, will you ladies excuse me a moment?"

"Sure." Riley replied as he grasped the mystery woman's hand.

He released it with a yelp as if touching her had hurt.

"Is something wrong?" Hana asked.

Maxwell shook his scalded hand. "No."

"That's what you deserve." Sherry muttered for his ears only. "How could you--

"Ladies, allow me to introduce Lady Sherry Alcantar." Maxwell bit out. His blue eyes seemed to spark with a fire of his own as he gazed upon the woman. "My love, this is Lady Hana Lee and Ms. Riley Brooks of New York. Lady Hana's mother is an old friend of my family who asked me to show them around."

Sherry's eyes narrowed somewhat. She was slightly mollified in hearing him call her his love, but that still gave him no right to escort two disgustingly beautiful women around Cordonia at night.

"It's nice to meet you." Riley held her hand out. "Maxwell told us all about you on the way here. I'm so glad we have a face to put to the name he says in every other sentence."

Sherry took a deep breath to cool her fiery temper. She shook her hand with a sincere smile. "It's nice to meet you both."

Hana smiled warmly at her while describing their work. "Lady Sherry, perhaps we could question you about some of the places we hope to capture on film.

The two friends shared a significant glance when Maxwell and Sherry merely stared at one another.

"If you don't mind, I would love to go in there and look around." Hana gestured toward the shop. "I can already see some dresses that I think would be perfect for our videos."

"We'll be back in a few." Riley added, winking at Sherry on her way inside. “I’m sure Maxwell would prefer staying out here with you than be stuck shopping with us.”

Sherry took a deep breath once they were gone. "Why are you really out with them?"

"I received a call the other night from Hana's mother." He explained. "She heard about Liam's search for a bride."

"Her mother knows about the Dark Kingdom?" Sherry couldn't hide her surprise. It was rare to find anyone today who actually believed that the stories were true.

"Yes, she is from one of Cordonia's minor houses." Maxwell sighed. "She doesn't want her daughter to be the next Dark Queen."

Sherry tried to control her temper. Nothing sparked it like someone denying the sweetest, most gentle man she knew a chance at happiness. She clinched her fists when she felt the heat move over her body.

"Sherry?" Maxwell took a cautious step forward. "You're overheating." He tried to take her in his arms, wincing at how hot she felt.

Her eyes flashed as she glared at him. "I know."

He let her go. "I'm sorry, honey."

The unexpected apology and endearment was what instantly cooled her. "You're what?"

"I know how important Liam is to you." He added, running his hands down his face. "But, I doubt this will be then only lady I'm tasked with protecting from him."

"Liam deserves a chance at finding his mate as much as anyone else. Maybe even more so." Sherry argued. She raised her eyes to his. "If you would spend time with him, then you would see what kind of man he is." She looked back into the shop at the two new ladies. "Maybe then you wouldn't take on jobs like this."

Maxwell hated seeing her so down and knowing he was partly responsible. He reached out and took her in his arms, cuddling her close. He dropped a kiss on top of her head.

“I know you want me to meet him. I’ll try to do so one day.” He tried to fight how wrong that felt saying aloud. “But for the moment, I can’t take a chance on Liam meeting Hana.”

“Why did you accept this?” She asked. “You've never taken on bodyguard duty before.”

"Hana's family offered incentives that I needed to help with Bertrand's healing." He rested his cheek against her head when he felt her arms wrap around him. "I didn't think about how it would affect Liam or you. I just knew I couldn't pass up this opportunity for my brother.”

Sherry lifted her head and gently kissed him. "I understand." A rueful smile formed on her lips. "And I apologize for blowing up at you earlier. When I saw you with two highly attractive women and clearly having the time of your life, something in me just snapped."

"You know, you ruined me for anyone else." His dimpled grin appeared. "I could be out with a dozen so called gorgeous women and all I would notice is that they aren't you."

She beamed at him. "Really?"

"Really."

When silence fell between them again, Maxwell exaggerated clearing his throat. He cocked an eyebrow when Sherry looked up at him.

"You ruined me too." She admitted.

"I better have." He grinned once more when he heard her laugh. "Just so there is no misunderstanding, I have to spend the next few weeks with Hana and Riley." He nudged Sherry's chin up. "I want you to come with us as much as you would like."

"You do?"

He nodded.

"I suppose I could find the time." She teased. With a sigh she looked up at the bar. "I should probably head back up there."

"Where?"

"I was up there having a drink with Liam and Drake." She pointed toward the empty balcony. "I wonder where they went."

"Liam's here?!" Maxwell let her go and rushed over to the shop window. He breathed a touch easier when he saw Hana critically studying a dress Riley had tried on.

He then scanned the crowd. His hand immediately went to his side, causing him to curse aloud when he remembered he had not brought his sword. He had left it behind to keep the illusion of a fun, party lord intact.

He really needed to start carrying a hidden dagger like Olivia kept insisting.

Sherry folded her arms while watching him revert into hunter mode. "Max? You know Liam would never harm them."

He narrowed his eyes as he searched for the Dark Prince and his right hand man.

He glanced at the lady beside him when he heard her deep sigh.

"Let me see where he disappeared to and I'll try and get him out of here."

"What was he doing down here anyway?" He asked.

"Oh." Sherry bit down on her bottom lip. "He recently found out that Leo is back in Cordonia and invited him to meet us for a drink."

"Leo's here too?!" Maxwell briefly closed his eyes. "I've got both of Constantine's sons converging on the very spot where I bring the woman I'm supposed to protect from that family."

Sherry rolled her eyes. "Stop panicking. I don't think Leo will show."

Maxwell noticed the bitterness in her tone. "He’s still not speaking to any of you?"

"Nope." Sherry wrapped her arms around his waist when he placed his arm back around her shoulders to try and comfort her. "No one in our kingdom has heard a word from him since Liam was named heir."

Maxwell pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "I'm sorry--"

She jumped when her phone vibrated.

"What's wrong?" Maxwell asked when her brow furrowed.

"Liam has gone to the palace. He said he needs to talk to Olivia." She sighed. "I guess Leo really is going to ignore us." She looked up at Maxwell. "You can rest easy in your job this evening, Lord Beaumont."

He hugged her close against his side. "You want to come with us? Riley wants to check out the nightlife here and I offered to take them to one of the clubs."

"A night club, huh?" She laughed. "It might actually seem like a date if I did come along."

Her heart melted at how bashful he suddenly seemed over the reminder that they had yet to have an actual date.

"I guess I have dropped the ball on that."

"It's hard to find the time when you're guarding the border nearly every night." She reminded him.

"We'll have our date one day." He promised.

"I'm fine with our nights at the border."

"You deserve better." Maxwell kissed her once more. "I'll make it up to you."

Sherry's lips parted to reassure him, only to pause when Riley and Hana came out of the store.

"Ready?" He asked them, summoning his fun loving persona once more.

"Please get us out of here." Riley pleaded playfully. "I think I actually heard my bank account cry after buying these." She held up the garment bags.

Hana laughed while keeping her own purchases off the ground. "Perhaps we should call it a night since we ended up buying so much. Is there any chance you can show us more tomorrow?"

Sherry could feel the tension in his body ease completely at the notion of putting these two safely away from the night.

"Sure." He looked down at the lady in his arms. "Sherry and I were just deciding on the places to show you these next few weeks."

"That's wonderful!" Hana beamed at the new lady. "We are grateful for all the help we can get."

While Riley and Hana began to eagerly question Sherry on her favorite restaurants and things to do, Maxwell guided them out of the market place, all while keeping a lookout for any sign of Liam.

***************

"Why are we going to see her again?" Drake grumbled. "Isn't it bad enough we had to see a Beaumont tonight? Now you want to add a Nevarkis to the evening's entertainment."

Liam ignored him as his jumbled thoughts focused in on one fact: he had actually seen the woman he knew to be his mate.

When he chased after Sherry, he had decided to hang back in the shadows. Knowing that the hunter his relative had lost her heart to would not be comfortable with his presence, he decided to remain far enough that he could intercede if Sherry's temper caused any problems.

Plus he hoped to hear more about the woman Maxwell was escorting.

Ms. Riley Brooks of New York.

He not only had overheard her name but also where she was from. He was able to see her more clearly in the lights from the nearby shops. Her beauty and the sound of her voice stirred something he had never felt when looking upon any other person.

She had to be the one. There was no other explanation to his reaction to just the sight of her.

Then he heard the reason Maxwell was with them.

The Dark Prince could not have cared less about the lady named Hana. But his job to protect her was going to make Liam's courtship of Riley difficult. He knew he would need some help if he was to get her away from her friend and Maxwell.

He couldn't ask Sherry to manipulate Maxwell into time alone with Riley. It didn't seem right to use the love between them in such a manner.

While frustration grew, he overheard the fact that Hana's mother was a Cordonian noble.

And he finally knew who could help him.

"Wait here." Liam ordered when they reached the palace gates. "I want Olivia in a good mood when I ask for her help. Seeing you, sadly, will not accomplish that."

"You're asking for her help?” Drake asked. “In what?"

"I'll tell you everything once the plan is in motion." He promised.

"But--" Drake rolled his eyes when Liam vanished. Within a second, he saw him climbing into the queen's window of her study.

"Good luck." He mumbled as he settled in for a long wait.

******************

"Hold on." Olivia raised her hands. "You want me to invite you and these Americans to my masquerade ball?" Her eyes widened. "Are you insane?!" She got up from her desk and began to pace. "Liam, my guards are trained to find and destroy any vampire who dares to enter the palace during such events!"

"I won't touch a single drop of blood that night and my manners will fit right in with the rest of the nobility." He explained. "Plus with wearing a mask, no one will recognize me."

"Why here?" Olivia asked. "Can't you do whatever you vampires do when you find your mate without involving me or my home?"

Liam leaned against the edge of her desk. "Because of Maxwell and Sherry."

"Maxwell and Sherry? What does my most trusted monster hunter and one of your dragons have to do with this?"

Liam's brow furrowed. "Hasn't he told you that he is Sherry's recognized mate?"

"Maxwell is a dragon's mate? Maxwell Beaumont?!" Oliva sat down in a chair completely stunned by this news.

"I can't believe he didn't tell you." Liam hoped he hadn't ruined anything by revealing this.

"Maxwell owes me nothing, especially when it concerns his private life." Olivia quickly explained. "If anything, it is me and Cordonia that owe him for all his years of service." A wiry smile flirted about her lips at the irony of it all. "A renowned monster hunter and a monster in love and destined for one another. Poor Maxwell. That had to be a shock."

"You know, you really are a nice person." Liam grinned and sat across from her. "That's why I knew as a little boy that we were destined to be friends."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Back to your request. Why will my ball not only help you but also keep Sherry and Maxwell out of it?"

"Because Maxwell will be forced to come along once you invite Lady Hana and Riley. And if I'm here--"

"Yes, but my head of security knows your name and what you are." Olivia stressed again. "I can't have him see your name on the guest list and--"

"But I will simply be company with the Duke of Domvallier." Liam explained. "Rashad's duchy is technically Cordonian, as you well know. Since only a rare handful know that Rashad and Sherry are dragons, I assumed your head of security would think it was a myth too."

Olivia nodded. "That's true. Bastien believes that the only creatures of the Dark Kingdom are vampires."

Liam's smile grew. "I can be a business associate of Rashad's. While Maxwell is keeping an eye on Hana and distracted with Sherry, I can then meet Riley under easier circumstances."

Seeing his excitement, she knew she couldn't refuse him.

"You're the only one who can do this for me." Liam added. "Plus, you're one of the few I can trust with this."

"Geez. Why not whip out those mind powers of yours while you're at it?" She grumbled.

Shaking her head over how easily she was ready to help him, she couldn't help but return his smile. "Fine. I'll send invitations to Rashad for the three of you and for Lady Hana and company."

Liam scooped her up out of her chair before she could blink and hugged her tight.

"Thank you!" He bowed and kissed her hand. "I knew I could count on you."

"Uh huh." She waved towards her window. "Now get out of here before I change my mind."

He winked at her and did as she said. "I'll see you at the Masquerade Ball, your majesty."

She walked over to the window and watched him disappear through the gate. Her smile dimmed as she thought of the report she had been reviewing when he appeared in her private study.

Olivia wondered if she should have told Liam about his brother's secret meetings with the Countess of Fydelia. There could only be one reason he had recently become so close to the witch. Leo must be searching for a way to gain the power he had been denied since birth.

Deciding to keep a close eye on the banished prince, she planned on telling Liam once she had more information. He was so happy with finding his mate that she couldn't stand the thought of taking that away from him with this news.

"Damn it." Olivia muttered. "Liam really is my best friend."

Somehow a Nevarkis had developed a love for a Rhys.

*Character moodboard for Madeleine and Leo*

#all through the night #choices the royal romance #trr vampire au #trr dark au #liam x riley #maxwell x oc #maxwell x sherry #drake walker #olivia nevarkis #hana lee #vampire liam #leo x madeleine

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mydayserenade · 3 years

Text

My Dear Starlight

Yunho x OC

rom, angst, fluff (???)

first time playing around w/ this kind of genre so apologies if its shitty

i suggest listening to Fix You by Coldplay cause it will definitely send you to sad hours while reading

"Do you remember the last time we went star-gazing? It was the night before I eventually confessed to you, we were lying on the grass and I was pretty much sleep deprived and alongside handling an empty stomach that was growling" he said and chuckled, reminiscing the sweet moment ever so vividly like it happened just yesterday. Yunho took his attention off the sky and watched silently as his fiance gaze the starry night without even noticing him staring at her like she was the brightest thing to ever exist as of the moment, which has always been a thing for them to do to each other... but mostly Yunho.

"I do dummy, can you believe it has been 5 years since then? Time flies so fast" Luna responded, leaning towards her right side to get a closer look at Yunho's visuals "And now here we are, engaged and a few months away from officially tying the knot." she giggled, toying with the necklace that he gave to her during their first anniversary and looked back at the night once more to admire it; the moon dawned on them like a bright spotlight, the sky was as blue as the deep sea, complimenting the shining stars that laced the sky, telling tales of long lost lovers which completed the visually angelic twilight that these two would share for hours.

Yunho looks over to his paramour with the endearment in his doey eyes and smiles ever so sweetly as she laid beside him, interlocking hands with one another and her hair that sprawled like beautiful waves; in a swift move he sits himself up and props Luna to lay down on his chest. Luna responds in a squeak, shocked by the sudden gesture her fiance did.

"Whenever you miss me" Yunho broke the silence between them and rested his cheek on the head of his soon-to-be Mrs. Jeong, she flinches as she felt his warm arms wrap around her chest, feeling his heartbeat going at a slow but steady pace.

"Um, where are you going with this?" she asked confusingly as Yunho snuggled on her neck, inhaling the delicate perfume that he oh so loved whenever she would put it on; he breathes in the intoxicating fragrance and lets out a satisfied sigh before he continued.

"It's just an intrusive thought" he replied and continued to snuggle, "but whenever you miss me while I'm away or when I suddenly get called by the House of Hufflepuff" he said jokingly in the last part, receiving a slap on the arm by her and continued on. "Look up at the night sky and think of me. My mom always told me that I had a special connection with celestial things most especially stars. I thought it was just nonsense she shared with me as a teenager but as I got older and took into consideration the feelings I had and enviroment or situations I was in, I did notice a few things that made me convinced that my mom was indeed right about her speculations." Luna was bewildered, all she could do was laugh. This was the first time she has ever heard of this story from Yunho considering the fact they've been together for 5 years, 24/7, 365 and he would often share his most atrocious memories; even his embarassing ones. She looked up at Yunho who was looking straight at her, showing how perplexed she was by her furrowed brows and confused grin.

"So you're telling me, God decided to make your bloodline 40% human and 60% celestial and as you age the more you feel connected with these things, will somehow tingle in your bones and signal you to shoot supernovas out of your hands like Starfire or some shit whenever it's nightime?" she asks.

"You're phrasing it like it's a crazy Sci-Fi movie Luna, I wasn't even finished." Yunho eyerolls and massages the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep sigh of annoyance. Luna enjoyed teasing him and seeing him all fired up; even if Yunho had a fierce exterior that people would be afraid of approaching, only few knew his childish side and how young at heart he was for things that he loved and took interest in.

"Go on continue, I was just annoying you." she giggles at the sight of him pouting and scrunching up his nose, Yunho takes a deep breath before he proceeds to the next.

"Eversince I was a little boy and when there were times where I had no one to play around with" Yunho looks up at the stars and grows a grin on his face as he points upward "they were always my companion and relate to how I was feeling. Whenever I felt happy, it would always blink at me, become bigger in size and blind me with its light; however when I felt sad, it would always shrink and release very little light. It would sometimes respond to the many queries I had and decisions by its blinking, it somehow felt like I had a mood lamp with me everywhere I go." he crooks his head to the right, scoffing at the many memories of him that flashed in his mind. "Even if I had no one to talk to at that time, as crazy as it sounds, the stars comforted me in a way that is unexplainable."

"It felt like someone understood the things you were going through like no one else has, almost as if you had an alternate you up in the galaxies." Luna looked up at how Yunho admired each white dot with the happiness in his eyes, looking so astonished like a little kid who just visited a candy store for the very first time. She now understood the many moments where he would suddenly look up the sky while driving, walking or even eating and just stare for seconds before eventually returning to what he was doing, almost as if he was thanking the heavens above or checking up on them like they were part of his family.

"You understand now? Whenever that time comes, just look up and I'm there." He whispers in Luna's ear, hands interlocking with hers and giving her a soft kiss on the head. Luna couldn't help but tear up by the gentle gesture Yunho did, the tale he had told and the thought of not seeing him for even a second. He was her rock and she was his, not a day would go by if they did not see each other in between the hours.

"I do Yunho, I do." she sits up and faces Yunho, cupping his face with her warm hands with Yunho gently caressing it and gives him a gentle kiss on the lips.

6 years later...

"I'm here" Luna whispered, standing in the middle of the silent and deserted park which was quiet enough to hear her; holding onto her precious necklace, she looked up the sky, admiring the white dots that scattered the sky. The stars were a bit different from normal, they were shining and twinkling more and more, almost as if it was calling out to her in morse code.

"You should really try and hide your excitement to a bare minimum, see this is why I never planned any surprise parties with you" she scoffed and sat down on the grass, closing her eyes and completely taking in the midnight breeze that brushed against her skin and blew on her hair. She lets out a sigh and toyed with the golden chain that was entangled on her fingers, feeling every abrasion and imperfection this necklace presented.

"You're probably wondering why I am here at 3 am in the morning" she said, fluttering her eyes to a vast field with streetlights surrounding it, "Awww man" Luna laughed, "You're most likely gonna kill me if I went out especially in this hour, well truth be told Mr. Jeong; are you battling me now with this cold gust of wind you blow?"

No one responds.

"I thought so too." she said under her breath as she hangs her head down, taking a deep breath before she continued to talk.

"I came here because I couldn't really sleep well these past few days and" she starts to choke up, sniffling and trying her absolute best to not break down, that's the last thing he would want Luna to do... especially in a time like this. "I don't know" she shrugs, rubbing her hands on her face. "I've been in my head too much, I've been emotionally unstable for the first time in a long time and I'm just" she suddenly pauses while a million thoughts circulates her mind. She urged herself to keep a strong and stable state for the past 6 years in front of friends and family, always say she was doing alright and all but deep down inside she was suffering the greatest loss of all and couldn't even bare to hold it in any longer.

"Yunho I'm so so so sorry" she lets out her tears, hysterically wailing on the field. She clutches her heart, completely lost her sense of reality and just wanted to scream out the pain and tiredness she has been holding on for the past few years, hiding behind a facadé so that people around her would not have to feel the burden that she might put on them. The countless nights of tear stained pillows and fake happy days were all weeped away at this night, she looks up at the skies; frozen and chanting swear words like a maniac.

"I'm sorry for not noticing sooner how much you suffered on the inside, for being such an asshole to you during those times and for not being enough of a friend and wife to you." she whimpered, losing all her might to prop herself up. In a graceful fall she lands on the grass, curled up, shiverring and clutching her knees amidst the cold breeze and moist grass under her.

"I'm a terrible person, I'm a fucking disgrace, and yet somehow I still exist in this world when it should've been you who is still alive. I tried my best to not worry you every night by saying I was doing okay, that I was living good and this and that, but for the past few days..." she closes her eyes and squeezes the pendant with her palm as tears streamed endlessly down her cheeks, "The wave of guilt just hit me harder than ever and I honestly am not so sure I can carry on this shameful life that only keeps me breathing."

From the day she knew up until his deathbed, Yunho never wanted Luna to see him at his worst neither did he want her to struggle and pity him, but his condition allowed Luna to see her beloved slowly succumb bit by bit. As much as she wanted to help him; he would always brush it off, plaster on his dimpled smile and please her in the best of his abilities and strength even if his state wasn't the way it was before. He did not want Luna to regret the moments she had with him and only fill her memories with the pain that he had felt and the hardships he's going through. She didn't agree to any of his ordeals but he had tried and persuaded her to commit to his wishes, in the end however; it would only lead to many arguements and her cursing him out. Eventually she caved in and did the best she could to seize the days, nights and hours with the presence of her one and only love yet deep down inside she was guilty of not helping with his condition and wanted to cater to his medical needs even if she had to travel miles away to get what he asks for.

"I respected your wishes, I carried on the many months with you with a positive outlook and a cheery personality. I was happy during those times I'll admit, because I was by your side everyday until the last second of you breathing, but at the back of my mind I knew I should've gone against what you wanted me to do and assist to your needs." she runs her hand through her hair, fuming at the thought of herself not doing her part during the days of Yunho's struggles. "You told me that I shouldn't feel guilty as this isn't my fault that you were diagnosed with this and it isn't my business to meddle around something like this, but goddamnit Yunho" she breathes uncontrollably as tears yet again pools in her eyes "I'm your fucking wife! I'm your best friend! I have been with you for as long as I can remember and I have made a vow to you that I'm gonna take care of you and nurture you when needed until our hair turns gray and we are all wrinkled." She bursts into annoyance and disappointment. None of what she did made perfect sense to her, all she wanted was to cry and rewind time so that she can make up for the past mistakes she's done and the many regrets she wanted to be erased in her mind. Luna didn't have the energy to continue on and she just lied in the grass, sprawled out and cried until her lungs gave out. She felt pain, she felt disappointment, she felt useless, she felt defeated.

A blinding light then hovers over Luna's exhausted and tearstained body, at first she did not mind this but as the light lingered on her for how many minutes now, she was irritated to this God-like halo that did not want to leave her be. She then slowly opens her eyes and was immediately welcomed to a soft, bright and white light that the moon shined on her, way different from the previous. The stars then aligned, creating a mystical ceiling that somehow calmed Luna's nerves and distract her away from her thoughts, it shined excitingly but twinkled in a calm matter. Luna was in awe at how much beauty the sky emmited, she had completely felt relaxed and wiped the tears that streamed down her face. She goes on to bask under the moonlight and stars, breathing in and out and feeling liberated and worry-free, something she has never felt ever since Yunho was put to rest.

"Now I truly understand what you meant." she mumbled, feeling lighter than ever. Luna then proceeds to put back her shoes on and did a flying kiss to the air multiple times before she left the park. "I think I know what I need to do now." she smiled and took a deep breath.

"Thank you for giving me something I never believed in but eventually found myself with you, love." she sighs lovingly as she gets up and moves towards her car. She takes one last look at the stars and glances down the necklace she has been holding. "Thank you for tonight, see you soonest, my dear starlight."

#ateez yunho #yunho #jeong yunho #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez fanfic

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boxofbadaddiction · 4 years

Text

Not According to Plan

George Weasley x Reader

This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List.

Prompts: 4 & 11

"Hi I'm [Y/N or Character] I make jokes when I'm uncomfortable."

"Ah, Humour based on my pain. Aha-ha-ha."

Warnings: Swearing

If you thought about it, had the teachers really cared about students roaming the castle at night, they'd certainly have worked harder to ensure breaking curfew wasn't so easy.

Night was when the castle was most fun, after all.

Running from Filch. Stealing food from the kitchens. Star gazing from the balcony of the North Tower. All far too tantalising to resist.

For [Y/N] in particular.

Exploring the ancient building in the late hours of the night had become somewhat of a habit for her. Sneaking out of her dormitory while her room-mates slept peacefully in their beds she relished in the feeling of freedom which enveloped her every sense in the cool night air.

Her favourite activity by far had to be antagonising Peeves in the Dungeons before stargazing with a hot chocolate held firm between her freezing palms.

Tonight however didn't quite go to plan.

Screwing with the prankster Poltergeist took an unforeseen turn resulting in her currently hauling ass from the doom and gloom of the Dungeons.

Apparently her weekly routine had become far too predictable as Peeves had been waiting for her tonight. Hell bent on revenge he was accompanied by none other than one Severus Snape. Not what she was expecting as she casually rounded the corner, safe to say her feet had never changed direction so fast. Nearly falling over herself as she ran.

"THERE!" Peeves bellowed seeing her sprinting form disappear from the corridor.

The sound of Snape shouting, hot on her heels willed her legs to carry her faster. To pump her arms harder as she bounded up a flight of stairs in a hidden passage which led directly to the third floor.

She fell against a large stone pillar, hand on her side trying to dull the aching cramp that'd formed in her ribs and swallowing thickly to ease the burning of her now dry throat.

Content that she had put enough distance between herself and the fuming Head of Slytherin House, [Y/N] composed herself. Strolling leisurely down the hall with a relieved chuckle coming from her throbbing throat, heading toward the kitchens, she could really use that drink now.

But tonights surprises didn't end there.

Mind too fixed on her narrow escape [Y/N] failed to register the rapidly approaching sound of footsteps barrelling down the adjoining hallway. Next thing she knew she had collided with someone and fell hard to the floor.

"Ah, fuck" a pained voice groaned near her.

[Y/N]s body had never felt as heavy as it did in that moment. Laying face down on the ground her arms moved to lift herself. Shaking her head to clear her blurred vision and dull the ringing in her ears that echoed in her mind from the sudden collision.

[Y/N] squinted toward the source of her injury but could only just make out a figure.

A boy laid sprawled on his back, one knee in the air with an arm slung across his abdomen. Given the difficulty in which he tried to pull himself upright and the way his other hand massaged the back of his head [Y/N] gathered he was in an equal amount of pain.

The flaming red hair was a dead give away, although she already had her suspicions in who the likely culprit was. Only two other people in this school seemed to share her affinity for breaking curfew. The Weasley Twins. Until now however she never had the pleasure of making either pranksters acquaintance. She was, after all, a year below the pair and from another House.

"Are you alright?" The boy asked. He had managed to roll himself onto his side propped up by his elbow he eyed the girl concernedly. She was now resting on her knees, hands supporting her while her body hung heavy like dead weight making her arms quake under the pressure.

"Peachy" her voice sounded as if she'd been winded during the fall, "I've always wondered what the Castle floors taste like. Now I know...they taste like shit."

The redhead laughed at her sarcasm, "Glad I could help clear that up for you then." With a groan he rose to his feet, quickly peering back around the corner from which he came before holding his hand out for the stranger to take. Accepting gladly she used his strength to pull herself from the cold ground.

"Talk about ways to take a girls breath away." She muttered to herself but given the cocked expression on his face the boy had heard. She wasn't sure if he were amused or not.

Taking her hand from his [Y/N] placed both of hers on her lower back and stretched her aching muscles while the joints in her spine cracked in several places. Moaning lightly at the tension it relieved.

"If I were to hazzard a guess, I'd say you were running from Filch."

"That'd be a pretty good guess" he smiled shyly as if unsure how she were about to react.

Lifting her gaze to meet his she found the expression to be one of unease and awkwardness. It looked out of place on the face of one half of the notorious Weasley Twins.

"The rumours are true, Weasley's really do know how to knock a girl off their feet."

His face contorted into a mixture of confusion and amusement. Given the circumstances he'd been awaiting a lecture or to be scolded for his recklessness which ended up rather painful for the both of them. Humour was not something he expected to come from her. An impressed grin snuck it's way onto his lips, the Twins always admired a person who could make light of a tense situation.

The silence and look on his face spoke differently to [Y/N], she felt she must have said the wrong thing. The whole encounter was far too awkward for her liking. Bouncing on the balls of her feet she let out a long breath through mostly closed lips as she gently punched her palm contemplating her next words. She had to think of something...anything to say that could recover.

"Hi, I'm [Y/N] I make jokes when I'm uncomfortable." She reached her hand out to shake his. To her great relief he laughed while taking it. "George" he answered simply.

"What's a girl like you doing out at a time like this?" Raising his brow with a cheeky grin he placed his hands in his pockets.

"Same as you it'd appear."

"Running from Filch?"

"Snape actually." George's eyes went wide at the words.

"You dare tempt to best the Devil?" Silent laughter radiated through his body as he smiled in shock.

"Well to be totally honest, he wasn't in my plans. But Peeves got the better of me."

"Peeves?"

"Annoying him has become somewhat of a hobby of mine", [Y/N] shrugged, "guess he finally had enough. He had Snape waiting for me."

"The little snitch." The two laughed.

For two people who had just met, in a rather abrupt and unpleasant manner, they were surprised at how easily conversation flowed between them.

Leaning casually against the corridor wall they spoke a little back and forth while George relayed his evenings events and how he suddenly found himself unaccompanied by his brother. It wouldn't have stopped there, had it not been for the arrival of Mrs Norris and the sound of Filchs voice carrying down the hall putting a stopper in their laughter.

Staring wide eyes from the cat back to one another they took off in a sprint. George made to turn down the passage [Y/N] ascended previously before she grabbed his hand "Not there. That's where I ditched Snape he'll be down there for sure!"

Thinking quickly George took the lead, hand still clasped firmly in hers. Dragging [Y/N] close behind him they ran through the courtyard to the Trophy room.

Hiding beside an old cabinet [Y/N] and George fought hard to recapture their breaths dropping each others hand, [Y/N]s clutched her chest as George steadied himself against the wall.

"That's...the second time" [Y/N] strained to speak through burning breaths, "second time you've left me breathless tonight." She chuckled swallowing hard afterwards. "That's so corny" George coughed feeling like his lungs were full of sand.

When their ability to speak without pain finally returned the two soon found they had a lot in common. George was in awe of how [Y/N] could make light of any situation. She seemed to ooze positively and, much like he and his brother, always tried to make people laugh because, in her words, "What's life without laughter? Fucking boring." He could feel himself falling as he hung from her every word. Every giggle. Every smile. He couldn't take his eyes off her, till a blinding light from over her shoulder appeared pulling his attention. A teacher. He couldn't stand to see her end up in detention so, panicking, he did the only thing he could think of. Cutting [Y/N] off mid sentence he shoved her into the hidden compartment he knew lay behind the cabinet. He and Fred had used it many times before, though it wasn't exactly spacious it served it's purpose as a temporary refuge from angry teachers or prefects.

Eliciting a sudden squeal from [Y/N] as she had remained blissfully unaware of the approaching punishment he closed the cabinet behind her, leaning against it in a casual way just as the teacher turned into the hall.

"WEASLEY!" They yelled. Snape. Of course it'd be Snape he thought.

"PROFESSOR!" he mockingly yelled back with an innocent smile he straightened himself off the cabinet.

"Mind explaining as to why you are roaming the castle well past curfew?"

"Just fancied paying the trophies a visit sir." The familiar creak of wood sounded through the space as [Y/N] had obviously pressed against the other size of the cupboard, turning both men's attention. Georges eyes were wide as Snapes brows furrowed in confusion.

"Haven't seen them in so long you see. Thought they must have been missing me." He shouted slightly leaning all his weight back against the wood to stop it moving and to draw Snapes attention back to him.

"Mhmm. Where's your brother?" The Slytherin asked with a stern expression.

"Bed I imagine." a light tapping noise began to sound coming from the direction of the cabinet once again. George shifted his position so as to strum his fingertips against the old wood to compensate.

"A likely story."

"Sir, it is quite late you realise?"

"I'm aware." Snape was growing tired of the redheads cheek "50 points will be taken from Gryffindor and, seeing as you're so taken by them, detention this weekend shall be served polishing every last trophy in this room. Should give you plenty of time to be...reacquainted." the greasy haired man smirked triumphantly.

"You're too kind, sir" George forced a smile.

"Return to your house immediately and, should you run into him, before I do, drag your dimwitted other half with you." With a nod and two finger saltue George glared at his potions teacher, watching him stride away dramatically.

He was still glaring when he heard a loud knock come from the hiding place.

"Oh right" he fumbled upright opening the way slowly. He peered in to see [Y/N] leant back against the wall with arms folded and a much more playful glare than the one George was sporting moments ago. "Ah, come to let me out have you?" She jested.

"I'm sorry, Severus came waltzing by and-"

"Oh, I know."

"You know?"

"He always patrols the trophy room at 12pm Thursday nights."

"Well why the bloody hell didn't you tell me!?"

"Same reason I kept tapping on the back of the cabinet...I wanted to make things difficult for you." The girl grinned wickedly.

Georges mouth fell open. "To think, I was trying to save you from detention." He laughed.

"Yes I did hear that part actually. Be sure to put your elbows into it, some of these old cups are quite tarnished." She ran her finger over the glass of the neighbour display as she walked out past him.

"Ah, humour based on my pain. Aha-ha-ha."

[Y/N]s head dropped as she laughed at his sarcasm before turning to him while he leant back against the cabinet to close it's hiding place. Looking down at her [Y/N] blushed under the weight of his stare, biting her lip to restrain the giddy smile trying to break through.

"Want to go to Hogsmead with me this weekend?"

The question took her by surprise. The butterflies in her stomach making her uncomfortable.

"Ah, You have detention." She reminded him.

"So?"

"How do you plan on getting out of the Castle?"

"I have my ways." He shrugged with a smug look on his face.

[Y/N]s tongues traced her lips before pulling her bottom one through her teeth, the experience was calling to her like breaking curfew. She did love to break the rules.

"Okay."

"Okay?" He seemed astonished by her answer, and brought himself off the cabinet.

"Yeah, okay. I'd love too." [Y/N] was smiling brightly now at the prospect of spending more time with George.

"Great! Meet me here at 10 on Saturday?"

She nodded the only reply she seemed capable of giving as the butterflies in her stomach took over her whole body.

"Great. Well I better go find my 'dimwitted other half' let him know that Snapes after us." He joked "I'll see you then." He placed a quick kiss to her cheek.

Her hand came to the place where his lips had met her skin as the familiar warmth of a blush spread over her face. She turned to watch him leave, he must have expected her to as he looked over his shoulder shooting her a wink before leaving around the corner.

Tonight was surprising to say the least. And not a thing had gone to plan. But [Y/N] wouldn't have changed a second of it for the world.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hp imagine #writing prompts #george weasley fluff #george weasley imagine #george weasley/reader #prompt fics

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toomanyfandoms02 · 4 years

Text

The Photographer // Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

So I made a one-shot based off of the picture down here!

Word count ~ 3.1k

Summary - y/n is a celebrity photographer, and Matthew's birthday is coming up. This calls for a birthday shoot.

Ever since I was in sixth grade, I dreamed of being a photographer. But back then, I was just taking candid pictures of my cat (Peanut Butter), and random flowers that my mom had graciously planted for me. I really never planned on taking nice, professional pictures of people.

But here I was.

I went to 'California College of Arts' in San Francisco for 4 years. After that, I had a bit of trouble getting myself out there. I had a decent following on my instagram. People liked the pictures of my dog, and the pictures of nature that I took on my many travels. But likes and follows don't get you money, at least not enough. So I switched my focus onto more interesting things.

Advertising yourself as a photographer wasn't an easy task. You had to be ruthless, and be willing to get rejected and not back down. So I did what any semi-sane person would do.

I messaged over 50 celebrities asking of they wanted to do a shoot with me. I sent them my prices, and what kinds of shoots I was willing to do. I didn't have much hope for it, but it was worth a try.

And that's where it began.

Out of all of the messages, Andrew Lincoln, AKA Rick from The Walking Dead messaged me back.

*Hello Miss y/l/n! I've actually seen quite a few of your nature shots and I have always wondered how your photos would turn out with people. I would love to be your Guinea Pig.*

He sent me days he was available and I did his shoot. After posting his pictures, my popularity shot from there.

That was a few years ago, I was now taking photos for multiple celebrities. I was ultimately known for my black and white shoots. I had, in fact, just gotten done with a shoot of A.J. Cook. She had requested *me* to take her pictures for an up and coming article that was being written about her. I, of course, gratefully said yes, being a huge fan of hers, along with the whole Criminal Minds cast.

I emailed her all of the pictures I had taken, edited and all, while simultaneously posting them on my instagram.

It was mere hours later before a notification popped up on my phone of an email that I could not believe. Theres no way that he was emailing me, right?

*You have an Email from Matthew Gray Gubler*

*Hi there! I saw your shoot on AJ's instagram and my birthday is coming up. My manager wants me to do a birthday shoot, and we both like your black and white style. I know it's not usually the kind of thing you, birthdays, do but I figured it was worth a shot, and I think you have some real talent. Let me know when you are free next. I am on a break so my schedule is relatively flexible.*

I could safely say that it was a good thing that I lived alone because I don't think I have ever screamed louder into a pillow. Matthew has been one of my favorite celebrities for the longest time. If we were going to be completely honest, once I started watching Criminal Minds, I immediately had a crush on him. This wasn't exactly the profession to be in if you were going to have a celebrity crush. I was often invited to red carpets and movie premiers, so I met quite a few stars. I never thought I would have to worry about slipping up on my professionalism.

Because I never thought I would even meet him.

My obvious answer to his request was yes. I would never *ever* miss an opportunity to have a photoshoot with someone so inspiring and meaningful to me. So I started writing an email back.

*Hi Matthew!*

Should I address him like that? Is that unprofessional?

*Hi Mr. Gubler*

Abso-fucking-lutely not.

*Hi Matthew!* We are gonna stick with that. *I don't know if this is too short of a notice, but I actually have a free spot tomorrow. (Of course if that doesn't work for you, I can figure something out for later, and try to fit it in before your birthday). I have a few ideas for props that I can send you? Let me know how I can help.*

I sent it and ran my hands through my hair, tossing my phone back onto my comforter. I had taken pictures of so many awesome celebrities:

• Selena Gomez

• Robert Downey Jr.

• Dylan O'Brien

• Grant Gustin

• Holland Roden

• Danai Gurira

But this was by far the coolest one, in my mind at least.

While waiting a little to anxiously for a reply, I decided I was going to make myself some lunch, Ramen. I set my phone on the counter as I boiled my noodles, peering over at the blank screen every few seconds (but really they felt like **minutes**).

Just as I was adding the flavour packet to the bowl my phone buzzed. I jumped slightly, spilling part of the packet out of the bowl.

"Damnit." I quickly wiped the salt into the trash can and snatched my phone, seeing another email.

*Tomorrow is actually perfect, and I would love to hear your recommendations on props, clothes, anything really. I'm going to leave my number on this email so we can have easier contact of that's okay with you.*

Wow, alright. I will now have Matthew Gray Gublers number in my phone. I made a contact for him.

**It's y/n, soooo for props. I figured I could bake you a cake! I took a few baking electives in college so I could make a really nice one and we can do something with it. I recommend you bring clothes you like to wear that are black and white. (Other colors work too, but it just looks and flows better if it's black and white). I will set the rest of the stuff up. I will be ready for you by 1 pm if that's okay.**

*You would bake me a cake?! That would be super cool thank you! I would love that. I will bring a few black and white outfits. Would it be weird if I brought a black and white Kimono?*

A chance to see Matthew in a kimono? Please yes.

**Oh my gosh please do. I would love to take pictures of you in an infamous kimono of yours.**

*Awesome! I will see you tomorrow at 1. Heres my managers info for you to sell the billing to.*

He attatched his managers email. I just sat at my kitchens island, smiling like a true dork at my phone.

**And here is my address, I run the studio at my house. What is your favorite cake and icing by the way? :)**

Was a smiley face unprofessional?

I need to chill out.

*Vanilla cake and chocolate frosting possibly? I will eat anything though probably. :)*

Now I was really smiling at my phone like a psycho idiot.

**Alrighty, see you tomorrow**

Since I didn't want to wake up too early tomorrow, I decided I was going to start the cake tonight. I had quite a few recipes held in my cabinets. I located my vanilla cake recipe and put my pre-made chocolate frosting on the counter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After about an hour of preparing, making a cake from scratch, and putting it in the oven. The cake was finally done and cooled. I added black cocoa to the frosting to make it completely black and got out my white gel.

*You made it 3 decades :)*

Was scrawled in calligraphy on the top of the cylindrical cake. I added white drips down the sides and white multi shaped sprinkles to the bottom part.

I set it in my fridge and got ready for bed. I know it's going to be hard to sleep just thinking about tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My alarm woke me up at 10 am, never before this had I woke up with a smile on my face before 12.

I took a quick shower and dressed in a white and blue floral romper with my hair in a high ponytail. Now it was time to set up backgrounds for the shoot.

I had two stations downstairs where I took all my photos. I set the first one up very normal with a white background and a rustic black stool. The second one was set up with another white background but littered with black streamers and big *30* black and white speckled balloons strung at the top.

Once I was done with all that. It was nearing 1. I slipped the cake out of the fridge and slid it onto my island. I glanced up at the clock above my stove.

*12:49*

Since I just had a little bit of time, I went a put some simple makeup on. I usually don't wear makeup when taking pictures of people, but for obvious reasons, I was making an exception.

Just as I was leaving my bathroom I heard a knock at my door. I walked swiftly to my door and opened it shakily.

"Hi!" He held up the clothes that were hung lazily over his arm. He smiled that million dollar smile and I could have sworn he looked me up and down.

Wishful thinking I guess.

"Welcome!" I stepped out of the doorway, silently inviting him in. "If you wanna set your stuff down, those stairs to the right lead you down the the studio."

"Thanks." He scurried down the stairs as I grabbed the cake and followed him down. I set it on a table that I had down there, he peered over at it and immediately burst into fits of laughter.

"I knew you had a sense of humor, so why put something normal and boring on the cake." I laughed with him as he tried to catch his breath.

"This is so perfect." He laughed a little more. "Thank you, so much." I shrugged with a smile. I posed him in front of the streamers with the cake.

He made some silly faces and smiled like there was no tomorrow. Next I brought him to the more plain station, sitting him on the stool. I looked through the lenses of the camera and glared a bit.

"Hey can you put your left leg up on the second peg of the stool?" I asked, pointing to his leg.

"This one?" He put it on the third. I shook my head. "This one?" He moved it down the the fourth. He was smiling a sly smile, seemingly challenging me.

"Let me do it for you." I had to pose people often, but posing him was going to be a little harder for me, considering I found him painfully attractive.

I moved his leg up to the second one and patted it.

"Now leave it there, so I don't have to help you again." I giggled, walking back to my camera. Taking a picture of him leaning forward on the stool and smiling. I then made him laugh and got a good genuine one of him leaning back and laughing. After all that, I proposed that we eat some cake and took a break.

I cut him a slice and handed it to him with a smile.

"So, tell me about yourself." He said, eating a bite of his cake.

"Well, I have always enjoyed photography. I love all types of art, so I also draw and paint often. And I have a black cat upstairs. His name is-" and I stopped, blood rushing to my cheeks. He is most certainly going to ask me the name, and I do not want to tell him.

He stared at me expectantly. "What is his name?" He motioned me to go on.

"Uh," I laughed a little awkwardly, setting my hands in my lap and staring at them. "His name is Spencer. As in Spencer Reid..." I glanced up at him and saw a huge grin break out on his face.

"So you like Criminal Minds? I never would have guessed. You just don't seem the type."

"Well all my memorabilia is in my room, just so people don't think I'm weird for having quite a few framed and signed posters." I smiled up at him, pushing around the remaining cake crumbs on my plate.

"One, That's not weird, that's awesome. Two, can I please meet Spencer and take pictures with him in my kimono."

I don't think I have ever heard a better sentence in my entire life.

"Yes, absolutely! I'll go get him." I clunked up the stairs on my search to find Spencer. I went to his usual spot first, my bed. Luckily he was sitting there, licking his outstretched foot. "Hi baby! You are about to take pictures with the guy you are named after. He almost as cute as you!" I grabbed him from the bed an headed back downstairs. I walked in with the accidental impeccable timing to see Matthew in his barely tied kimono, showing off his chest. My eyes widened a bit and he tied it off fully.

"Is this the famous Spencer?! He is so cute!" He reached his arms out at Spencer. My little fluff ball curled up into him instantly, cuddling into his silky kimono.

We took many many pictures of Spencer and Matthew together. I think maybe my cat likes him more than he likes me now.

"Okay, last idea. How about we just take some more up close pictures of me feeding you some cake?" It came put as a question because I didn't know how comfortable he would be with it.

"Perfect!" I cut another slice of the cake and brought it over to him. We were both sitting on the floor.

"This might be a little awkward, okay?" I giggled as I leaned back to get his whole face in the shot. This proved to be very difficult as I was using my left hand to take the picture. I fed him the cake with the right as he looked at the camera with a more seductive look. I could have melted into the floor.

I decided to switch hands so I could take the photos better, but now my very uncoordinated hand was the one picking up the cake. As I went down to get another section of the cake for another angle of feeding this sculpture of a man, I instead dipped my thumb right into the deep black frosting.

"Shit, I'm so sorry hold on." As I went to stand up and grab a napkin to wipe my thumb off, Matthew grabbed my wrist lightly.

"Hold on, uh, I have an idea, before you do anything." I sat down with a confused look. "I saw someone do this in another shoot. But we totally don't have to do it. I just thought it would be a different idea." His words were more rushed than usual.

"I'm sure I've done weirder things for other shoots, don't worry. It's *your* shoot." I reassured him, though my head was swimming wondering what he was going to do.

"Ok. So. What I'm going to do is put your thumb in my mouth, and I'm basically gonna, uh, suck on it while kinda smiling?" He could barely get through the whole thing without laughing.

"Alright, weird request but I like it!" I giggled for what seemed like the 30th time today. "And to make you feel better, yes, I have done weirder."

"Thank God."

"So I am guessing you want me to do something like this with the rest of my hand, ya know, the part that's not in your mouth." I stated as I placed my hand on his cheek. He let a slow breath out, staring into my eyes.

"Yeah, exactly."

"Okay." I said with a shrug, grabbing my camera from the ground. He opened his mouth with an all too familiar wide grin as I placed my thumb in. His mouth closed around it and he smiled, just a little. I brought my camera to my face, capturing the moment that I would have forever in my mind and in a small frame on my bedroom wall, for sure.

I slipped my thumb from his mouth and watched as his face turned extremely red. To save him embarrassment, I immediately stood up and grabbed a napkin to wipe the rest of the frosting off.

"Can I see it?" He motioned to the camera. I nodded, sitting down right beside him, showing him the picture. It showed off a closer look at the rose tattoos I had near my wrists and the shiny watch that was gifted to me by my mom. "It turned out good! I really hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"Oh no! Of course not. Total opposite." As soon as I said that I regretted it.

"So that made you extremely comfortable?" A sly smile was making it's way onto his face.

"That's, that's not- You know what? Sure, yes." I chuckled. "You don't really make me uncomfortable at all to be honest. So no, you didn't make me uncomfortable."

"Well I'm glad." He smiled and we sat in silence for a moment.

"Well I guess that's it yeah?" He nodded. "Well this was fun. Thanks for being an excellent subject to take pictures of."

He gathered his stuff as we went back upstairs. Once at the door, Spencer came up to him, rubbing on his leg. He bent over to pet him.

"So, I'm not sure if you are single or not." I could feel the blood draining from my face. Was this really happening right now? "But I wanted to know if you wanted to go on a date?"

Yes, this was happening right now.

"Really?" I could tell I sounded extremely excited, but at this point, I didn't even care.

"Yeah, you are super laid back, funny, talented, and you aren't scared away by how weird I am." He laughed, "So yes?"

"I would absolutely love to."

"Great. I'll text you." He winked and waved as he closed the door, leaving.

My back went against the door. I couldn't keep in the squeal so I just embraced it and squealed my heart out, doing a little dance.

Which was quickly ended when I heard a knock at the door.

"I'm sorry, I want to get to know you better immediately." He let out a nervous chuckle. "Are you free for the rest of the day?" I was sure that my face was red as a tomato.

"Yes I am." He grabbed my hand, dragging me outside.

"Then let's go."

#mgg #criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fic #matthew gray gubler #matthewgraygubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #MGG #mgg x reader #mgg fic #mgg fanfiction

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wotinspntarnation · 6 years

Text

A Night By The Fireplace

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 1738 cue the Fetty Wap music

Warnings: language, oral sex

Summary: You tried to deny your love for Sam Winchester, but found out he felt the same for you

A/N: Another entry for @ravenangel33 writing challenge!! This is my first Sam x Reader fic and all I imagine from Sam is his want to make you cum without penetration (hes a sweet boy ya know). Once again thank you to my lovely beta @mrs-meghan-winchester because this was a shit show at first y’all but she turned it into a masterpiece.

MAYBE TUMBLR MOBILE WILL ACTUALLY LET ME FUCKING POST THIS.

S/N: let me know if you want to be added to my forever list or the list for my Dean x Reader series (which I'll be continuing soon)

You had always been drawn to Sam but never ever would you react on it. You saw the way hunting had torn apart the Winchester’s, Ellen's, and Bobby's families. No way in hell would you put yourself through that because of a crush. A crush that you might have had for about 5 years, but nonetheless. And there was no way he was interested in you since you were 10 years younger than him. Women his age were more mature, had more money, and were all around sexier. While their daily outfits included pencil skirts with stiletto heels, you wore fitted jeans and cowboy boots.

Your evenings had generally consisted of hanging out at the roadhouse, bartending when Ellen was socializing. As you began stacking cups you heard the shifting of two stools followed by your name. You recognized that voice, it was Sam's. You sucked in a quick breath to calm yourself. You turned around, leaning over to place your elbows on the bar and to expose your chest. “Hey Sam, Dean. What can I get ya boys?”

Dean smiled, “Hey sweetheart, I'll take some whiskey.” As you turned around, you felt his eyes burning into your bottom. With a loud groan and an “Ow", you were sure that Sam had kicked Dean for eyeing you like a piece of meat. Turning back around and pouring Dean some whiskey on the rocks, you turned to Sam. Pushing strands of your Y/C/H hair behind your ear to let your eyes wander over Sam's shoulders and face.

“How about you Sammy, what can I get ya?” you purred, letting your lip set between your teeth.

What the hell were you doing?! Not even this morning did you have to pull yourself from your thoughts because you didn't want to have a nomad lifestyle. But you couldn't fucking help yourself. The way the looked, the way he smelled, and the way he spoke. You couldn't help but think about how amazing he would taste...

Sam looked over at Dean, your eyes following. He had already downed his whiskey and was now chatting it up with some girl who looked to be barely 21.

You began to giggle watching the interaction, and Sam couldn't help but admire you. Admire the way you looked when you smiled and your adorable laugh. Fuck, and the way you smelled made him so hard. A perfect mix between flowers and whiskey.

Feeling Sam's hand against your arm snapped you back to reality. He chuckled to himself, “I'd love some of you. Something I should've got the first time I met you.”

Your heart began to flutter. No way this was actually happening. Sam Winchester has wanted you for as long as you've wanted him?!

You had no idea what had gotten into you, but you leaned in. Letting your lips ghost over his, you whispered just loud enough for him to hear, “Then take me Sammy.. I'm all yours.”

You heard his breath catch and his gentle touch on your arm became a firm grip. “You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say that.” he groaned just before pressing his lips against yours.

He stood up and began towards the door, turning around and making eye contact just before leaving the doorway. Throwing the towel onto the counter you popped your head into the back room, “Hey Elle, I'm gonna take a break for the night!” she turned around and met you with a smile, “Sounds good sweetheart.”

Immediately after emerging from the door, you were pulled to the side and instantly had a warm set of lips against yours, Sam’s tongue begging to have entrance to your mouth. Sam pulled away, your face between his hands “Fuck Y/N you're perfect.” and his lips crashed into yours again, tongue sliding against yours as soon as you granted his request.

“Gonna make you feel so good tonight baby. Make you all mine.”

Your breathing was labored at the thought of Samuel Winchester touching you in all the right places.

“Let's go, I cant wait any longer.”

On the way there you couldn't help but wonder what had gotten into him. He and Dean had to have just gotten into town so he wouldn't have had any alcohol. Unless, was he just using you as a stress reliever? It was like he could read your mind because his hand found yours, squeezing it. “You know, I've had a crush on you for so long but I never thought you'd go for me." your eyes widened as they met his, “What do you mean?! You are easily the most attractive man I've ever seen.” he chuckled “I'm old baby.” your eyes met your feet “Yeah...I like it" you whispered under your breath, assuming he didn't hear you as he had no response.

Locking your front door behind you, you led Sam through the house to the living room. Lighting up the fireplace you brought out blankets and pillows to make a pallet. Within seconds Sam had his hands all over you, making figure eight shapes. He sat on the arm of the couch, pulling you between his legs and latching his lips to your throat. In between each breath he praised you, telling you how beautiful you were and how long he's waited for this. You pulled off his shirt, and he pulled off yours. Both of you doing an equal exchange of removing clothes until there was nothing on your bodies.

He moved to your makeshift bed and laid back, stroking his hard on and beckoning you with a finger, “Come take a seat on my face pretty girl. Let me show you what you've been missing.”

That stupid knot in your stomach grew along with the company of butterflies. The things that this man did to you were so confusing but without a second thought, you were crawling up his body. You had barely gotten your thighs at either side of his head before his hands were pulling your wet core down to his mouth. “Been wanting to taste you for so long baby. Wanna show you how bad I've needed you the past 5 years.”

“S-Sam...fuck yes" you choked out.

Sure you've had other guys go down on you and make you orgasm, but that was with your help. No one had ever given you such a euphoric feeling as Sam was right now. He sucked on your clit, gentle enough to not hurt you but hard enough to make it more sensitive every time. He darted his tongue in and out of your entrance with the occasional lick up and down your throbbing lips. You leaned back, just enough to get a firm hold on his cock and began pumping. For fucks sake, this man was huge. You wished you could turn to look at it but as soon as your hand made contact with his shaft, the grip on your thighs tightened and he let out and delicious groan. “Fuck baby, your hand feels so good, can’t wait to feel your pussy.”

By then you were a moaning mess. Sam keeping his rhythm of sucking, darting his tongue in and out, and licking were bringing you to the absolute edge but he kept stopping for a few moments every single time. “Want my baby to come when I do.” he breathed as he swatted your hand away from his cock, guiding it to his hair. You pulled your hands away, turning so you could lean down his body and take him into your mouth. “Mmmm. What a good girl. Sucking my dick while I eat her pussy.” he smirked as he smacked your ass. “Sam.. your mouth feels so fucking good on my pussy.” you moaned. Taking his shaft into your hands once more you circled his head with your tongue, then pushed it past your lips and began bobbing your head.

“Fuuuuuck baby girl," Sam groaned as he grabbed a fistful of your Y/C/H hair into his hand and pushed your head farther down, forcing his swollen tip to hit the back of your throat with every bob.

With his free hand he wet two fingers with his mouth and began flicking back and forth against your sensitive bundle of nerves. Thrusting his tongue in and out of your cunt.

He let out a guttural moan and you began to feel him twitch, unsure of whether or not you could take any more of him in your mouth, and again it was like Sam read your mind. He thrusted farther down your throat and just as you began to gag, he spilled into you. He tasted just as amazing as you had imagined; a perfect mix between sweet and salty. Feeling him moan your name against your pussy while hearing it sent you jumping off a cliff to chase your orgasm. As the waves began to take over, Sam firmly grabbed your hips and transitioned to focusing on your clit. Kissing and flicking his tongue over it as he helped you ride out your climax.

You tumbled off of him, finally taking note of how dim the fire had gotten and sighing while simultaneously trying to catch your breath. Sam propped himself on his left elbow, dragging his calloused fingers against your back and with a gravelly tone to his voice he said to you, “Don't worry babygirl, we’ll have plenty of nights we can spend right here.”

You sat up, grabbing a blanket to cover yourself. You turned your head and focused your attention on the small embers still glowing, “Hey Sam...?”

“Yeah Y/N?”

“I love you...”

There was silence. Both of you stopped breathing and all you could hear was the crackle of the dying fire. With tears swelling in your eyes from what you feared most, Sam pulled you from the thoughts.

As a large hand touched your cheek, he pulled your head to look at him.

Confusion struck when you saw tears streaming down his face as he began to speak, “I have waited so long for this moment. Waited so long to hear you tell me you loved me and to be able to say it back. Baby, I love you too..”

Your big, burly lumberjack was such a softy and you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of your life with him.

Forever tags:

@ravenangel33 @mrs-meghan-winchester @shellydemon

#autumn1500 #sam winchester #sam winchester smut #samuel winchester #sammy winchester #sam x reader #sam x you #sam x y/n #smut #fanfic #fanfic smut #fanfiction #supernatural #spn #wotinspntarnation

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whimsically-ominously-auspice · 4 years

Text

World War III

1. I said "there's a remote" at least 10 times because I'm not a control freak but I'm also not trusting either. So i know i put an alternative to a satellite on land and I know I put a remote in case who we trusted didn't use the missle.

Now she remembers how i told her to turn the MISSLE on and off because i expected people to trust me and allow me to speak and not tell me im too stupid to not create a remote for a missle on NORTH KOREA when i lived in NEW MEXICO, USA.

Im not gonna say how. But there was also clue words this week to help her remember. But okay

2. So instead of saving the world, the world learned How to save itself. And that's better.

Our last war. And the whole world joined in. We are now completing WWIII. The best war ever!!!! That we finally are winning. The First World War that every country joined to fight and protect the world. 🌎 it was a real world war not a prissy fit over having the most money or the kings and queens (gods and goddesses) in the world.

3. The remote. I gave to the one person in the world that i knew for a fact that would kill her clone sister. No description no nothing. An active missle and it would be done 100%

4. The remote had no labels. I requested that it just look like an old hearing aid type device which i was told it was but was really a listening device we had in the cup above our sofa in NYC. But i didn't live with my parents and I didn't speak to my Uncle unless it was about is son or something wrong with the living conditions. I got my parents and neighborhood involved. I knew the consequences. So i never spoke about my days or nights and what i done in secret except on walks wirh our mouths covered or turn around and point at something random or look at the ground with our hair covering our faces, we coded/hid everything my friends and i did and even said.

4. She tested the first button then called North Korea to see what happened. The satellite had a little door which was unimportant. But it would indicate the sare was off. She was trying to figure out the turn on code which would been simple enough in a frustrated move.

5. As it was North Korea was invaded by Trump. 20 minutes into her struggle. So Kim Jong-Un unplugged it as per his instructions.

6. She understood the invasion but we needed the missle more than ever. So she tried to get him to turn it on. He refused because the satellite door closed. So they thought it was Broke. No. Its a dam on and off switch. Look its on!! look its off! SIMPLE look out the window!!

7. He wouldn't turn on the missle which would then turn on both the missle and satellite by default. SIMPLE.

8. She couldn't figure out the remote! They said it didn't exist! And no one would tell me what was going on. And the remote wouldn't plug in a missle launcher!! Im fucking sorry world!! 🌎

9. She had no instructions and no labels. She was to tell Kimmy she was experimenting. So he could tell her how to label it if she felt it was safe. With a number system only she remembered. But he wouldn't answer the phone because he got a new phone number for the missle room. She didn't know -- it just rang and rang. By the time she figured it was safe enough to interrupt the missle Trump invaded and Kimmy went to the bunker!!

10. She just tonight hit the button that notifies him what is happening to the machine which she hadn't had a chance to do before he unplugged it.

11. Everyone thought the priority was to fix the unbroken satellite. While holding hostage the Trump invader.

12. I can protect Ethan with falling planes that I wreck into with a Chinook i use my palms to propel on the dash board. I can run a war from a bedroom with nothing but my heart and soul and heal millions of dead. BUT I DON'T KNOW HOW TO LOCK DOWN A MISSLE LAUNCHER INTO REMOTE MODE to go out for tea OR TELL IF A SATELLITE IS NOT BROKE. that is what i was told multiple times. And not by North Korea. My own fucking team that has studied every fucking thing I've done and seen i make Plans A - D just to walk myself to the bathroom. And assures me in the midst of a war that i am being throughly researched so we win. "Go get 'em champ!"

13. So last night i found William still working on the fucking satellite who said the piece was being made and it was 10 fucking days. For an on and off switch that was cosmetic and the actual switch was 1 foot inside the satellite in a bullet proof box that could never break. And hes begging to doubt anyone was actually making it.

14. This is bullsjit i said. Its not even fucking broken. I'm having a fit. Look at this fucking shit and i magnet in 18 satellites. "Get what you want" scream at one guy inside an old 1980s one i called Direct TV because it had a 2 way camera on it. So I use part of his to make a bullet shooter because this shit... Was on my last nerve. And i shoot EVERY GODDAM thing i can't see.

15. People from other people were calling the International Space Station asking "does she have a problem today?"

16. Yes And every galaxy was losing their evil. Cause Fuck i needed help so did they.

17. William finally finished not fixing the satellite and I propped open the button to turn it into a two seater. And we went to find out who i killed in the International Space Station. 45. So the 2/3 unhappy due to 10% were happy we found.

18. Truth or Consequences would take 5 and a half minutes to complete. Now it takes 6 and a half seconds. William sped it up. And set it to the core.

19. My GPS range is only 105 miles. Now 102.

World War III is almost over. It will be over -- should be -- by the time that the last time zone enters 2020.

Its been Hell.

We can all see that while us world leaders and I the smartest and bravest of any galaxy can still be overtaken by one troll.

Which is why we must always remember to work together.

My plans had no flaws. It was prepared for absolutely everything.

20. Even air war. The planes were all bullet proof and battle proof except the Pilot Windows. I designed the eQ2 fleet. Convinced her that they would open the windows like WWII planes for fun and should. Because nothing in the world would be better so don't waste money on extra bullet proofing. We gained one jelly filled body, only lost one good one arm and one jelly filled body (due to water and Tree healing) and millions of evil and clones. And I also used those planes to protect Ethan as they crashed and William protected Logan's twin today as i was busy.

21. I also designed the Chinook since 1998 in 2008 i made upgrades.

World War Three was a success for Planet Earth, Saturn, Neptune, Uranus, Jupiter, San Frensesno, and Pluto plus many more including Mars and Venus.

And it was only fought on Earth all others remained Peaceful.

And each planet saw how to protect their planet so now in the future they can be as protected as us. I asked them not to intervene as i don't know their planets. Except in dire emergency. They didn't. So we did a fucking good job.

22. Pluto we designed War assistance together so we knew them. Since 1994 they have been here to protect us. That is why it became uncategorized as a planet.

So Happy New Year. I'm sorry NYC I missed it once again. It's only 10 pm here

Im down to 98 miles.

What have I said?

Our plan of defense and protection failed.

We continued to defend as we were attacked and successfully protected.

...

We failed at working together. So we got more people to help us. And when that was scary, we called Pluto and gave them the honor they deserve. And they loved it.

So ask for help.

"Hey babe help me with the dishes" and talk about your day you'll probably end up in giggles if you talk about me.

"Hey babe. Finish reading that paperwork I was sent on missiles will you" and you may just end up saving the world.

"Hey doofus, remind me every once in a while that you died in 1998. That would help me a whole lot to figure shit out on my own and beat amnesia because i been beat in the head too much" and you may Just never know to fucking say that!!! So don't let your soulmate trick you into saying something stupid!

So ask for help when you know you need it.

The world knew how much they wanted to help. Did y'all know how much we needed it? In the end... We really didn't. But the world needed to help. And we needed to help them. Us.

My Twin Brother doesn't drive 362 mph on training days because we like to take the slow lane.

We wanted every one to be happy and safe as fast as possible.

That was a downfall as soon as Gary Trump found out how to regrow the penis I shot off in 1984 on purpose, cause he is a pervert. He thought he could finish taking over the world with his greed.

And what happened class?

He began to. And we dominated him. We would gotten to the satellite and we would still fought the way we had even if he was still alive. But the healing and damage would been much greater.

We could have handled it easy. We had mild shit. Y'all if I25 had air war which did until I announced no GPS or lights and the neighborhood commander retreated and admitted defeat and announced surreandered.

I could had had the planes fall to protect y'all. And still had time for Wichita Texas with brothers Ethan, Logan and Ezekiel.

I pulled William and Matt out for their sakes. They needed a break, anyway. It wasn't punishment it was to protect them as they were targets. Sure its easy to heal but come on. Why for when your mom and dad are here for the first time in thirty years? Don't go to work. It's safer and healthier on Earth... Or was supposed to be for William.

Yet a bad thing worked fine in the end.

Because we all began caring in ways we hadn't before or in a long time.

For the first time Mr McNabb lost a child. Before he never had the loss his children did when he was taken in as a hostage then human trafficking victim. So he finally learned the sadness his children felt all their lives when thinking about their parents. The craziness he thought he saw was actually beauty of the mind and heart working together not to just survive but help others as well and to help them heal. And now he sees his sons not only as fierce fearless warriors but also as healers that are gentle and kind. And he can recognize the sadness and fear he kept hidden all these years. And finally let it go.

Tonight if you have Pluto with you. I am on the west mesa near the Belen airport.

Up here your loved one will stay the longest.

If you are evil. Your last moments can be spent here and may be finally for once your greedy heart can begin to grow. Much like the Grinch and you have a chance to save your soul

I am the only Jesus you will ever know.

I am at 70 miles range now. At 1050 pm

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aghostpost · 7 years

Note

I always feel bad asking people to write something but if you want I've got a request of a Jughead x reader where they both live next door from each other and their bedroom windows face each other. Your writing is wonderful btw, I love it!

A/N: Pls plsplspslpslsplsps PLEASE don’t EVER be afraid to ask me for a request! I love it, it’s so fun and makes it easier for me when I can’t think of anything to write on my own. And especially don’t be afraid to ask me to write for Juggie my current obsession ♥_♥

“You remember when I moved here?” I asked Jughead, my head resting on his chest. It was a beautiful Spring Saturday morning and we came to Sweetwater River for an early stroll before meeting up with everyone at Pop’s for lunch. Somehow the stroll managed to turn into us lying on the river bank enjoying the warm sunlight.

“I do. I had to suddenly get used to your dog taking frequent craps on my lawn.”

“Hey, she doesn’t do that anymore, right? And that’s all the matters.”

“Yes yes, good for Melon.”

“I remember you couldn’t get her name right, always called her Lemon or Melanie.”

“Because what kinda name is Melon for a dog-”

“-I was six! I coulda named her Chickenhead at that time and my parents woulda just went with it,” I laughed. I looked up at him and rested a hand on his chest. “What else do you remember?”

“Hmmm… everything…”

I was sitting on my bed doing my health homework. I was bored which meant easily distracted which also meant I welcomed the breeze I felt through the window. It didn’t bother me one bit, but it gave me an excuse to get up and close the window; anything to wake me up from this dull assignment.

That was the first time I noticed Jughead sitting at his desk playing video games directly across the grass from my bedroom window.

“That’s such a dumb hat.”

I tossed my backpack on my bedroom floor and collapsed onto my bed, stomach full of a double bacon burger, large fries and a chocolate shake. I couldn’t move a muscle but knew I had to clean dishes and read two chapters for history. I sighed. “Nothing to wake me up like reading about dead presidents.” After taking a breather I sat upright to kick my shoes off, noticing a bright light beaming across the lawn. I could see Y/N pacing back and forth in her room reading a piece of paper, probably a presentation for school. At least I thought so until she fumbled with her laptop and started dancing in the middle of her room. Her dog came in at the sounds of the commotion and started jumping up on her, sniffing at her legs, but Y/N just kept dancing.

I shook my head. “She’s so weird.”

My face ached. I was so exhausted after crying I didn’t even realize I fell asleep. My eyes cracked open and I saw a slice of chocolate cake resting on my bedside table. Mom always knew this was the ultimate remedy for sadness. If there was ever an occasion for chocolate cake, Derek Fisher breaking up with me during lunch would be the perfect one. I rolled over and rubbed the warm mound of fur next to me. Melon always knew when my spirits needed to be lifted. After stretching I sat up in bed, scratching my head and noticing something obstructing my view of the outside. After a pause, I climbed outta bed and walked over to my window, picking up the beautifully folded paper that sat on my windowsill. The paper was ornate and folded with precision, and I remembered seeing it before. I watched Jughead casually fold origami in detention once; I had a few tardies and paid the time for my crime.

I looked over through his bedroom window. He had his headphones on and was spinning in his desk chair writing. I waved around a bit to get his attention and when I did, he stopped spinning, pulling his headphones from his ear to open his window. “What is this?” I asked.

“It’s a butterfly.” I looked at the origami creation, both shocked that something so beautiful came from Jughead and confused about what to say next. “It’s said to symbolize girls in love.”

My face fell flat as I looked at him. “But alas…” I felt the reminder of my breakup didn’t need to be spoken.

He understood. “It also symbolizes emerging into beauty and grace. You know, spreading your wings and what not, finding your confidence… Not letting assholes like Derek Fisher ruin your idea of love.”

“Didn’t know you were so cultured…” I commented, delicately twirling the butterfly between my fingertips, ignoring my face flushing at his words. .

He smirked and reached for his window to close it. “You’re welcome. Enjoy your cake.”

My music was blasting as I laid on my bed, annoyed at the argument I just had with my father. I was hoping to drift off to sleep when there was a tapping on my window. I sat up to see Y/N wave with a warm smile, something I was getting used to. I grabbed the stereo remote and turned down the volume and went over to open the window.

“I come bearing gifts,” she greeted, holding the plate up to me.

“… Did you just make this?” I asked skeptically.

“What? No, my mom’s birthday was two days ago. Actually I was supposed to bring some over to you and your dad but I completely forgot. If she asks, say I did.”

“Well,” I said as I took the small plate from her hands, “it wouldn’t be a lie, now would it?” I gave her a wink before breaking off a piece with my hand and shoving it in my mouth, nodding as I enjoyed the dessert. Vanilla with chocolate icing. Good choice.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “You were playing your angry music, and I know because the bass was vibrating my walls. You and your dad get into it again?”

“Principal called the old man. I got into it with Reggie today.”

“You’re always getting into it with Reggie.”

“Because the guy’s a neanderthal and he doesn’t like that I’m the only one not afraid to say so.”

“Did you get in trouble?”

I shook my head, eating another piece of cake. “Just another warning about how my mouth will get me in trouble someday and knowing when to pick my battles. Same ol’ same ol’.”

“If you say so,” she said as she made her way back to her window. She looked at me over her shoulder one last time. “As a wise boy with a very unique beanie once said to me, ‘Enjoy the cake’.”

It would become progressively harder not to like her with each of these cross-the-lawn visits…

It conveniently started to downpour on my way home from the mall and I had the pleasure of walking through the weather from the bus stop to my house. As I pulled out clothes to get into after my shower, I looked at the small origami collection, courtesy of Mr. Jones, lining part of the shelf on my desk. The butterfly he gave me after the breakup with Derek, a crane for good luck on a math exam I was nervous about; that one he left on my desk. A rabbit waiting on my windowsill the morning of our last day of classes before Spring Break, which also represented trickery and mischief, which I discovered Jughead had a bit of in himself.

I smiled to myself as I blushed and started peeling off my soaked clothes when I saw a light glowing in the foggy, gray outside behind me. I looked in the mirror and saw a reflection of Jughead soon followed by a girl from school. Mandy Miller, a Riverdale Vixen, to be exact. I was shocked to say the least, and when I saw them smiling at each other before she kissed him jealousy hit me like a ton of bricks. While I never confessed feelings for him, I knew there was an undeniable chemistry between the two of us; admitting feelings to each other didn’t seem necessary. That being said, I refused to feel sad about this and instead focused on making him rue the day. I was green with envy and refused to feel like I was the only one with feelings invested in whatever it was Jughead and I had. I managed to slip out of the tight, soaking denim and tossed my jeans to the side, checking myself out in the mirror. I could be a Vixen if I tried, I’m sure. I would definitely look good in a cheer uniform.

In the mirror I could see Jughead laughing, Mandy now out of view, and for the briefest moment he glanced out of the window and I spotted him looking at me. His smile fell and he looked away immediately. I smiled to myself and lifted my shirt over my head, then took my ponytail out and gave my hair a good ruffling. Nothing like envy to make your confidence skyrocket. Finally I turned around and found Jug staring right at me and no, I didn’t look away. I slowly sauntered to the window, not breaking eye contact with him, when I reached behind my back to unclasp my bra. Nervously he looked over at Mandy and then back to me. I gave him a seductive grin, and just as my bra straps began to slip from my shoulders, I slammed my curtains shut.

“Wait, you thought I liked Mandy Miller??”

I sat up and shrugged, picking a nearby dandelion. “I saw you guys kiss, what more proof did I need?” I tucked the yellow weed into the fold of his beanie with a small smile.

“Yeah, on the cheek! She was just happy and thanking me for helping her with an English essay.”

“No no no, that was not the kiss of a thankful girl, that was the kiss of someone that has a crush on you. Trust me, I would know.”

“Maybe,” he said as he propped himself up on his elbows and looked at me, half a smile etched in his face, “you should show me for clarification…”

After an eye roll I leaned forward, the smile on his face putting one on mine as I kissed him under the warming Spring sun. While what we had already evolved past a crush, I would use any excuse and any reason to feel his soft lips on mine, to feel time move in slow motion around us and to feel myself overflow with happiness. “Remember that I love you,” I said before kissing him one more time and staring in his eyes. Rarely was Jughead’s facial expression a soft one but in this moment it was the softest.

He pulled one of my hands to his lips. “Couldn’t forget if I tried.

#request #jughead x reader

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artistclock · 3 years

Text

WHEN IT WILL BE ME?

By: Cherry Mae Parohinog

Be the best or be nothing at all. Remember that no one remembers the second best or the rest for that matter. Aim for the top place. Always.

I had it in my head that individuals were constantly looking for attention and a good reputation. We lived for their compliments. Who doesn't like to be complimented? One positive word from you, they can live for a day. One positive sentence forms you, then they can build an altar and worship you. They can even kiss your feet.

"Our school's pride! Let us give Mr. Merritt a standing ovation! The well-known art competition was held in Manila. And, of course, congrats to Ms. Hernandez on her second-place finish. Thank you very much! Mr. Merritt, top one!”

Roaring applause was given by the crowd to us and especially to him. I don’t know if it’s because he’s drop-dead gorgeous or because he won. I bet my life, it’s the former.

When my name was called, I couldn't help but notice the host's low tone. See, second place means nothing. I also stood up and clapped. I didn't clap because I wanted to; I clapped because it was my initial inclination, and it was required by the program. And I should, because I'm one of the winners!

“Congratulations, Ms. Hernandez. Your arts are good and getting better.” The host mumbled to me and smiled with her lips pursed.

Comparative versus superlative adjective, I see.

Her words could no longer be heard due to the great weakness of her voice and the crowd’s loudness. I accept her compliment with a nod of my head. It would have been lovely to hear her praises, but they didn't last long in my ears. Her words sound rehearsed.

“Thank you, Ma’am.” I return the smile she gave to me.

Another medal and trophy to be cover with dust.

James Austin Merritt, the winner, in his custom-tailored tux from the back of the host, sashaying his way to us. His chiseled arms are highlighted by his serge coat. His tousled hair, crimson lips, flushed cheeks, and metal timepiece. His deportment now matched his brusqueness and arrogance so well. He looks expensive and extremely confident.

“I know I mentioned it before, but let me congratulate you again,” he says as he clears his throat. “Congratulations, Ms. Olivia,” He's in top form, with his cheeky smile on his face, and his right palms outstretched in front of me, indicating that I should take it.

This is the type of guy I should avoid.

“You, too, Mr. Merritt. You brought the school’s name again. I’m so honored to join you in that dazzling journey we had in Manila. You’re the best companion.” I clasped his hand in mine and smiled at him.

The words taste so wrong on my tongue. I can even taste the bitterness.

“You two did an outstanding job. And this handsome prodigy, oh, darling, make us prouder,” the host taps his right cheek. She has the look of a proud mother. I almost puked when I saw how sweet it was.

He turns his face toward me, allowing me to get a good look at his aristocratic features. “Not at all, Ma'am. Olivia is here, and she is the best at everything. As with anything! Did you happen to notice what she used in the competition? She used oil paint as well as poster paint! The beauty of her artwork is breathtaking! I'm lost for words to describe how stunning and talented she is. I was startled and mesmerized as I stared at her. I-I'm referring to her painting,” His prominent cheekbones turning a slight shade of red.

I stifle a little chuckle. I'd like to believe him. His comments, despite the oozing tone of sarcasm and stupidity, ring true in my ears. I only hope Mrs. Ronald, the host, agrees with us, although I doubt it. Her sour expression tells me so.

My hands are itching to hit him - no, beat him! Hmm… maybe later, Mr. Merritt.

“What exactly are you saying, Mr. Merritt? You won, which implies you're the best. What would happen to our department if you weren't there? A strong and confident man. Your artistic prowess is out of this world,” she shook her head, wanting to put a stop to the conversation.

Mrs. Roland may believe that a man has all the power, but this is not the case. I wholeheartedly disagree. I believe that women can accomplish just as much as men.

It appears to me that I am not as important as him and that I was only placed there to fill the gap. My achievement and trophy mean nothing to them.

“No, no, Ma’am. She’s also a winner in the competition too. I was so amazed at how good she was that I was ready to go home crying that day,” He shoves his hands in his pockets and glances over me. His left dimples popping out.

“Alright, Austin, if you say so. I'll leave you two alone now. I’ll just talk to someone on the other side.” She gracefully turns her back on us. Her sour expression remained.

“What was the point of that?” You want to court me?” My arms are folded on my chest.

His mouth fell open, and his brown eyes were as large as saucers and almost out of their sockets. He has a peculiar appearance. I nearly roll on the carpet!

“No. Never, Miss, but you can thank me though. And then I'll say, 'Welcome, Olivia.' How does that sound?”

I groan. As I looked at him, I wondered how someone could be so dumb.

“I appreciate your kind words, Mister. Hearing that made my day.” I mock him by pressing my palm to my chest and bowing slightly.

He mumbles an expletive under his breath. “Stop dissing me, please. The competition ended well and unbiasedly. And are we already friends, or am I imagining things? But for me, we’re already friends. We can help each other. We can also create beautiful artwork. What do you think?” He wiggles his eyebrow. As a result, he is quite attractive; otherwise, he would resemble Mr. Bean.

“No, we're not friends, and we never will be. Well, unless you are the firm believer of ‘keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer, then we can be friends,” I shrug my shoulder acting as a cool kid. I just need myself and no more.

His stares are so intense that I almost cringe.

“If that’s what you want, then fine. We’re enemies now.”

Perhaps it is true that when the universe aligns, there is a force that allows two opposing things to become one.

I let him see every inch of my heart.

On the floor was a jumble of canvases, paintbrushes, and paint colors. Images of hazy landscape sceneries, abstract paintings, and random people's portraits are hung, while some are simply lying against the wall. I watched him in the corner as he was serious about what he was doing. It’s like he’s the only one in the room and his painting is the most important thing in the world. His hand seems to be dancing to a rhythm that only he can hear. The veins in his arms protruded when the paintbrush kissed the canvas. His brow wrinkled and his crimson lips parted slightly. It's amazing to look at him in such a way that you wouldn't believe he's puerile and truant.

Let’s make art together. No rivalry between us.

His words break the high sturdy wall I built for anyone to protect myself.

“I'm hungry,” I said, although I'm not. All I want is for him to pay attention to me as well.

“Then, eat. I don't have your mouth,” he says. He didn't even look at me. He's really serious about what he's doing.

“You’re arts is romantically beautiful, Austin. It never fails to amaze me. I want to make you a statue,”

“Really? That's very thoughtful of you, Olivia. Thank you for your backhanded compliments. It's much appreciated. And I think... I'm going to cry. Could you please hand me a tissue?” He retorted.

Oh, God! Give me more patience.

Dropping my head back against my chair and dragging my breath through my nose. I prop my right elbow on the armrest and lean my head against my hand.

“Have you read what was posted in the bulletin? They’ll have competition again. Maybe you'd like to join?” Now he's focused on me and telling me something else. His words were vague in my ears. In a trance, I'm staring at a line of ants scurrying around the wall. What if I lose once more? A second-place finisher again? I don't want to lose. For once, I'd want to be on top. No, I always want to be at the top. No one but myself! The best of the rest!

I'm a sad little girl who craves attention and longs to escape reality. My anxiety began to attack.

I recall my father yelling at me, "I won't look at your trashy trophy, and I'm not proud!" He claimed that painting is not a career and that I cannot earn a living from it. The benefit here is that dad let me choose the course I wanted, which is why I chose fine arts, but how could this freedom feel so lonely?

He spews his venom at me for not being the best. I held my tongue and waited until he was satisfied with the damage. I can't blame him; he's one of the most competitive people I've ever met. He was distraught. It’s like I’m trying to hold hot water in my bare hands. So cruel. He has such a terrible opinion of me. I value the arts in all of their forms.

I believe in the power of words and their ability to affect people. They have the power to make or break you. They can even kill you.

“You’re worthless! You deserved everything bad that happened to you! All the hate! Why won’t you just die?!” I screamed as I stood in front of the mirror, pointing to myself.

And he made me feel unloved and unworthy.

I was immersed in thought when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

He looks at me as if he’s reading my mind and my soul, “Hey, I got you now. You’re doing your absolute best. Stop trying to control everything around you. Stop it. Stop thinking about the outcome of every situation, just enjoy the moment. Don’t be hard on yourself, Olivia.” His tone is gentle.

“If everyone turns their back on you, then look at me. I’m your number one fan, remember? I hope that’s enough.” He mumbled.

In response, I gave him my genuine smile.

People have asked me if I’m okay with placing second or third, and I’ve always said yes. That's the response they're looking for. They don't care about me. They simply want to pique their interest. That's all there is to it. That's why, in the end, you're the only one left in the dark, bruised, and defeated. You didn't get the kind of attention you were hoping for. Who would want to hear from someone like me? Nobody knows who I am. This is how the world works

Jesus! I sound like a petulant child.

The afternoon zephyr gently ruffled my hair a little. I'm seated in my school uniform on the far side of the school's reading sanctuary section's concrete gazebo, surrounded by trees whose leaves are already falling and scattering on the sidewalk. It's a peaceful spot. The sound of the page of the book I’ am reading hurt the silence of the surroundings.

It tells the story of a wise man who can't seem to find himself. He was enslaved to the standard that society and his family imposed on him. Because of his intelligence, he lacked a friend. His diary was his lone confidante. In this journal, he writes down all of his thoughts and the words that are stuck in his head.

Why do I have an affinity towards him? Perhaps because we are in a similar situation. I recognize myself in him and can relate to him. If he utilized a pen and paper to write down what was going through his mind. In turn, I used a paintbrush and a canvas to express my feelings and resentments in life.

I was so engrossed in my daydream that I didn't notice the mighty Austin lounging coolly against the jamb of the gazebo, hands in his pockets, and chewing his bubble gum, which he even inflated and chewed again. Yes, he is sometimes gross. He chuckles awkwardly at me and takes the chocolate cupcake from his pocket. He uses his teeth to peel it off.

“I wish you a very happy birthday, Olivia. And I'm sorry I won't be singing you a happy birthday song. Now, Olivia, make a wish.”

I lock my gaze on him. I consider myself extremely blessed to have him. I close my eyes and whisper to the wind.

“Break those shackles, and watch me fly.”

My room opens with a loud bang, waking me up. I could see his familiar shape in my hazy eyes.

“Join the contest and show me what you've got.” He spoke it loudly and authoritatively. My father's actions surprised me. Isn't that the truth? I heard it very clear. My nails dug into the palms of my hands so deeply.

Take the risk or lose the chance. I'd go with the former, despite my reservations.

I shield my face from the light with my right hand. He, too, squints from the sun. I'm not sure why we decided to go for a walk in the middle of the day. I'm perspiring, and his neck is flushed. He unlocked the door for me when we arrived at the school's art studio. The door is excessively large and heavy. To open it, he must use all of his strength.

“How come this old door won't let a handsome man like me in? If this door is a woman, I'd say she's just trying to get my attention.” He winks at me as he turns to face me.

This man!

I take a seat next to him and maintain a comfortable distance between us. We're currently practicing. The crickets could be heard all around us.

To be honest, I had lost track of what made me happy. I've run out of ideas, motivation, and energy. I didn't have anything to look forward to. I close my eyes tightly.

“Yes, you’re doing it right. Stroke it slowly. Don’t get frustrated,”

“Everything is mediocre,” I scream, hurling the paintbrush. He took it and returned it to me.

“Slow progress is better than no progress at all, Olivia,”

“Easy for you to say. You’re famous. You’re so good. No, you’re the best! The greatest! Everyone loves you. And me, I’ am no one. A good-for-nothing daughter. Tell me… when it will be me?”

He blinks several times. Because of his heavy breathing, I notice his shoulders bouncing up. He's chewing his lower lip. In his eyes, I can feel his exasperation and sorrow. He reaches for my face and gently caresses my cheek.

“You know what, I think I should call it quits. My dreams are shattered all around me. From the start, everything is wrong. I can't function properly,” I grumble. I'm furious at myself.

I'm losing control of everything. I'm losing interest in things that used to excite me. It’s like I'm no longer a part of anything. My cheeks are flushed with tears.

“If that’s wrong, then I don’t want to be right. And don’t compare your artworks to mine, or everyone, that’s just deadly. Everyone has their uniqueness. You are your person,” he whispers.

Despite his words, I am still empty. I'm desperate to get this emotion out of my system.

“It isn't that simple.”

The opinions of those around us have an impact on how we perceive ourselves. Austin, on the other hand, is arrogant, harsh, and blunt, but he can be a dark knight in sparkling armor. He sees right through people. He lives his life to the fullest.

I stare out the window. The car was moving so fast that the trees we were passing through swiftly vanished from my vision. I'm leaning against to it. I believe we are all dissatisfied individuals. We wish for something that we don't have. We envy people and things in various ways and on various levels. We wish to be that person and live their life. We desire things to satisfy ourselves. People are usually asking for something good, yet they are frequently asking for something bad. We just don't notice it, or if we do, we're too afraid to acknowledge it. People are also cynical.

I'm extremely nervous right now. Inside, my toes wiggled into my shoes. I can even hear my heartbeat in my ears and a strong throb against my skull. I'm feeling nauseous. My heartbeat quickened as fear swelled in my chest. Austin, on the other hand, appears to be a lost child at the playground. His eyes are shining with enthusiasm.

Today is the competition day. I used to think of him as my enemy, my tough opponent. But suddenly things are different.

“I'm drowning in anxiety and fear. Who wants to swim with me?” I asked him. We were in the park at the time. I'm sitting on the concrete bench, watching the kids play.

“Me. I can even bring some colorful floaters. You want that?” he answered me while licking his lollipop.

I lift my eyes and stare at him. He was looking at a large artwork in front of us, arms akimbo. He has a carefree smile on his face.

“This is it! The world has to be ready. We are here now, ready to conquer them,” He has a devilish grin on his face.

"Don't live too much in our head, Olivia. This time you are not alone,” He added, and continued watching the artwork, "I will not allow you."

The overthinking sucks that drove me to do some irrational things, as well as my anxiety, which accompanies me around and feeds my fear, are still here. Now all I have to do is revalue myself to forgive and love myself better. I'm going to improve with time.

And he’s with me now. We are here now. This is our now. This is the reality.

“And Olivia, it’s always been you.”

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