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lumosandnoxwriting · 4 years

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Good Girl - George Weasley

Title: Good Girl Pairing: George x female!slytherin!Reader Summary: George has been the reader’s enemy since their first year at Hogwarts together and now, in their final year the universe keeps throwing them together in ways that make the reader question why she ever hated George in the first place. Warnings: NSFW!! Slight Dom!george, begging, slight orgasm denial, thigh riding, oral (Male and female receiving), throat fucking, fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex A/N: The summary is shit but it’s an enemies to lovers slow burn. Seriously this is 22k words I lost control. This is for @those-born-to-fight who wanted some enemies to lovers with a Slytherin reader! There’s two different ~spicy~ scenes and the tiniest touch of angst towards the end. Feedback is always welcome, and requests are open!

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“God, do they ever just shut up?” Y/N grumbles, getting up to slam the door to her compartment closed. Adrian and Marcus laugh at her, but immediately stop when she glares at them, not wanting to face the consequences of annoying Y/N further.

There are very few things that Y/N outright hates. The list of things that mildly annoy her is quite long, but she reserves the word hate for only those special things that make her want to rip her hair out at the mere mention of them. Fred and George Weasley happen to be at the top of that list.

Like most students, Y/N had been enamored by the twins and their antics at first. Despite the fact that many of their practical jokes were aimed at members of her house and Snape, she found them quite funny. She had even thought about befriending the twins, the rivalry between their houses be damned. But after finding herself on the receiving end of a few too many Weasley practical jokes, she had begun to loathe them.

“I don’t know why you let them get under your skin,” Daphne comments, her tone dry and dull. Despite the fact that her eyes haven’t left the copy of Witch Weekly she’s flipping through, Y/N knows she’s been watching her fidget as the Weasley twins got rowdier and rowdier from their compartment down the hall.

“Because they’re, they’re,” Y/N pauses, trying to find the words to describe just how vile the Weasley Twins make her feel. “There isn’t even a word in the English dictionary that perfectly describes how insufferable they are.” She flips Adrian and Marcus off as they laugh at her frustration.

Daphne rolls her eyes and finally puts her magazine down. “You’re so dramatic, Y/N. Just drown them out like everyone else does. Take me, for example. I haven’t heard a thing either of them has said since third year.”

“That’s because they leave you alone, Daph,” Marcus drawls, coming to Y/N’s defense. This isn’t the first time the four of them have had this conversation and it surely will not be the last. “It’s kind of hard to ignore them when they send bludgers at you hard enough to knock your head off of your shoulders.”

“It’s pretty easy to knock someone’s head off of their shoulders when there isn’t anything in it, Marcus,” Daphne teases, pushing his shoulder lightly.

Adrian pretends to throw up at their behavior, causing Marcus to hit him over the head while Y/N laughs. Adrian ends up hitting Marcus back, and the boys hit at each other for a few moments while Daphne rolls her eyes and Y/N eggs them on.

“The contents of Marcus’s head aside,” Adrian says as he plops down next to Y/N, his breathing heavy from wresting Marcus to the ground. “He’s got a point, Daph. You’ve never actually been the victim of a Weasley prank. So, frankly your opinion doesn’t matter.”

Daphne flips Adrian off and picks her magazine up again. “I’m just saying. There are better things for Y/N to focus her attention on than those stupid Weasleys.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’d like to see you ignore them after they charm your shampoo to turn your hair neon yellow. It didn’t go back to normal for weeks!” Adrian laughs at the memory, and Y/N punches him in the thigh. “Watch yourself, Pucey or I’m gonna put yellow dye in your shampoo.”

“Trying to get in the shower with me, are you?” Adrian teases, throwing his arm over Y/N’s shoulder.

“In your dreams,” Y/N responds, picking up the book she had discarded after a particularly loud shout came from one of the Weasley twins.

She can feel Adrian chuckle as she leans into his side. “I’ll see you there.”

Y/N had almost forgotten about the Weasley twins entirely until she feels something hit her in the back of the head during dinner. She picks a piece of mashed potato out of her hair as she turns around, her eyes like daggers as she searches for the culprit. Of course, Fred and George are laughing to themselves, each of them waving at her as they make eye contact.

“Nice to see your hair back to normal, Y/N!” One of them, Fred she thinks, shouts at her.

“Yeah, I reckon if your hair had been yellow any longer you’d have to join Hufflepuff,” the other teases, causing the Gryffindors around them to laugh.

Y/N goes to stand up so she can knock the grins off of their faces, but Adrian puts his hands on her shoulders and forces her to sit back down. “It’s not worth it,” he hisses into her ear. “Not in front of all of the professors. Be smart about your revenge.”

Y/N glares at Adrian, but she relaxes, nonetheless. As much as she hates to admit it, Adrian is right. It’s only the first day back, she doesn’t need to go and get detention and lose Slytherin a bunch of points. Not yet at least.

“Hey Marcus, do me a favor and knock them off their brooms first chance you get.”

“You’re awfully cheery this morning,” Y/N comments to Daphne as they head up the stairs towards the Great Hall.

“What isn’t there to be cheery about? It’s the first day of the school year. Our last school year,” Daphne responds dreamily.

Y/N snorts in laughter, rolling her eyes at her best friend. “Ah yes. The hardest year of school yet, that certainly is something to be happy about.”

“Oh NEWTS? Who cares about those,” Daphne says casually as they enter the Great Hall and head towards the Slytherin table. “You don’t need good grades in school to be a good wife and mother.”

Y/N scoffs, choosing not to say anything. Unlike Daphne and most of the other girls in her house, she plans on actually having a career of her own. It is common for pureblood families to marry off their daughters to the sons of other pureblood families and often times the mark of a good pureblood girl wasn’t her brain, but her ability to stay silent, look pretty and boss around a house elf.

Thankfully, Y/N’s parents hadn’t raised her with the same values. They didn’t believe in the same archaic things most pureblood families did, and they had raised Y/N to have loftier ambitions than to be someone’s wife and a mother. Y/N’s father always joked that she had inherited her mother’s smart mouth, so it would be impossible for them to marry her off anyway.

“Just because you don’t care about your grades doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t. Right, guys?” Y/N asks as they sit down, looking for both Marcus and Adrian to back her up.

“Are you guys on this again?” Adrian asks, rolling his eyes. Much like Y/N’s hatred of the Weasley twins, Daphne failing to take school seriously was a frequent topic of conversation in their friend group.

“No need to get your panties in a twist, Pucey,” Y/N teases as she grabs some toast. “Daph is free to sit back and spend her last year of school doing nothing, but I on the other hand plan on actually doing good on my NEWTS. So, feel free to slack off with her, or study with me, I don’t really care.”

Marcus chuckles at Y/N’s attitude. “Damn, Y/N tell us how you really feel.”

Y/N chucks a piece of toast at Marcus’s head before she reaches for her bag. “Oh, I almost forgot, I’ve got all of your schedules.” She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small stack of papers, handing their designated paper to each friend.

“Wow, slacking on your Head Girl duties already and it’s only the first day of term,” Adrian teases with an easy smile.

Y/N flicks his ear. “You’re just jealous that you didn’t make Head Boy.”

Adrian rolls his eyes as he scans over the piece of paper. “Me? An administrative stick in the mud? I don’t think so.”

“Nah mate, you just were looking forward to spending hours alone with Y/N,” Marcus teases, causing both Y/N and Adrian to throw pieces of muffin at him.

“Moving on,” Daphne drawls, clearly tired of their antics. “What’s everyone got first lesson? I’ve got divination.”

When both Marcus and Adrian announce they have Arithmancy, Y/N frowns. “Guess I’ll be heading to Potions alone then.”

As Y/N heads down to Potions after breakfast she can feel her mood sinking. Potions is one of her favorite classes, and not just because Snape tends to favor Slytherins. She finds the art of Potions fascinating, and each lesson always tests the bounds of her knowledge. But class is always more enjoyable with her friends around.

Her mood only worsens as the Weasley Twins fall into step beside her, one on each side.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here, Georgie?” the twin on the left, who is obviously Fred, says playfully.

“Looks like little Y/N is heading to potions, Freddie,” George responds, lightly knocking into her shoulder.

Y/N stumbles on the step despite the light touch. Both Fred and George have a good six inches on her, and their time as beaters on the Gryffindor team has obviously left them both toned and muscular.

“And without her little gang of friends, what a shock,” Fred adds with a laugh as Y/N finds her balance.

“Friends? What friends?,” George teases.

When they reach the bottom of the stairs, Y/N glares at each of them. “You two dimwits are in NEWT level potions? Snape must have lowered his standards.”

“Oh Y/N how you wound us,” George gasps, clutching his chest.

Y/N rolls her eyes as they enter the Potions classroom, determined not to let the twins bother her. Daphne did have a point on the train yesterday, there were other things she needed to focus on besides the twins and their stupid games.

She takes her usual seat at the front of the classroom, expecting the twins to slink to the back of the class, far away from Snape’s prying eyes. Her fist automatically clenches when they slide into the seats directly behind her, her nostrils flaring.

This year certainly is going to be the hardest yet, and not just because of the rigorous coursework, Y/N thinks to herself as Snape begins class.

“You look, how do I put this nicely.” Marcus pauses. “Flustered.”

Y/N glares at him as she flops down next to Daphne. Potions had been an absolute disaster. She could hardly focus on her Memory Potion, too busy picking out the Jobberknoll Feathers the Weasley Twins kept putting in her hair. She had managed to make something barely acceptable, and Snape’s disappointment was evident.

“Screw off, Marcus. I just spent an hour dealing with Dimwit 1 and Dimwit 2 standing behind me doing everything in their power to piss me off. So, unless you wanna end up with your head in one of those pots and dragon dung fertilizer up to your ears, shut your mouth.”

Daphne laughs at Y/N’s outburst. “I told you just to ignore them, Y/N. Although dragon dung fertilizer up to the ears does sound like the perfect revenge plan. Not that I’m condoning letting someone, or someones, get under your skin so badly that you need revenge,” she pauses, winking at Y/N. “But if I were I think that would be the way to go.”

Before Y/N can get too lost in the thought of burying Fred and George in Dragon Dung Professor Sprout is entering the Greenhouse and starting class. But she definitely pushes the idea to the back of her mind for future consideration.

“I’m going to fling myself off the top of the astronomy tower,” Y/N announces as she collapses next to Daphne in the common room. After her short break from the Weasley Twins in Herbology, Y/N had to suffer through a double transfiguration and a charms lesson with them both sitting too close for comfort.

“Could you at least wait until it’s closer to the end of term? We could probably get an extra week off at the Christmas holiday,” Adrian says, not even bothering to look up from the Quidditch playbook in his lap.

Y/N groans, putting her head in her hands. “I need better friends, none of you are sympathetic of my suffering.”

“If you need sympathy go hang out with some Hufflepuffs,” Daphne tells her, throwing her arm around Y/N’s shoulder. “What did the twins do this time?”

Instead of answering Y/N reaches for her bag and pulls out her charms book, handing it over to Daphne. “Go ahead. Try and open it.”

Daphne gives her a look as she cautiously takes it from her hands. She shares a look with Marcus and Adrian, who were finally intrigued enough to pay attention, before she slowly opens it. As soon as it falls open there’s a whizzing noise followed by loud pops as a mini firework show starts to go off. Daphne squeals and quickly shuts the book, her eyes wide.

“What in the hell was that?” she asks, tossing it back to Y/N.

“Whatever it was it was kinda cool. Open it again,” Marcus says with a laugh.

Y/N glares at him and shoves the book back in her bag. “Fred and George did something to it, obviously. It scared the shit out of me when I opened it in class. Flitwick took 30 points! 20 for the interruption it caused and 10 for the curse word I yelled.”

Adrian and Marcus erupt in a fit of hysterics as they imagine the scene it must have caused, and Y/N gets up so she can beat both of them with a pillow. They both pick up their own pillows to retaliate, and the three of them spend the next several minutes hitting each other. It only ends when a spare pillow ends up flying over and smacking Pansy Parkinson in the back of the head, causing all four of them to collapse in fits of laughter.

Y/N is the first to calm down, wiping a few stray tears from her eyes. “Oh, that was absolutely incredible. Just what I needed.” As the rest of her friends pull themselves together Y/N grabs her bag. “Come on, let’s go to dinner. I wanna catch Dimwit 1 and Dimwit 2 so I can make them fix my stupid book.”

When the four of them arrive at the Great Hall Daphne, Marcus and Adrian head towards the Slytherin table, while Y/N makes a beeline towards the Gryffindor table. “Oi! Weasley!” When three red heads whip around to look at Y/N she sighs. Only one of the twins is sitting at the table, and it’s a 50/50 chance she gets it right, so she decides to just take a guess at which one it is. “George!”

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” George asks as Y/N reaches the table.

She smiles to herself, proud that she had gotten it right. Y/N had never taken the time to learn the differences between the two, but now that she’s examining George she can tell that his eyes are softer, like there’s some reservation behind them. She takes out her charms textbook and places it on the table in front of him.

“Fix it,” she demands.

“Fix what?” he asks coyly, a mischievous smile on his face.

Y/N clenches her fist and takes a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. “Don’t play stupid, Weasley. Just fix my book.”

George laughs. “Who said I’m playing stupid? You’re the one that called me a dimwit earlier, and you’re right. I am a dimwit.”

Their exchange has caught the attention of the Gryffindors sitting around them, and they’re all watching Y/N intently, smiles playing at the corners of their mouths.

“Look, your stupid little prank has already served its purpose. It scared me and I lost Slytherin some points. Just fix the damn thing, will you?” Y/N is starting to get desperate, but she doesn’t let it show. She keeps her expression blank, not wanting George to know how truly bothered she is.

“I don’t know. Maybe I would be more inclined to fix it if you asked me nicely, Y/N,” his tone is teasing, so much so it almost sounds condescending. The students sitting around them laugh lightly, waiting to see what Y/N does next.

Y/N grits her teeth, weighing her options in her head. She could stand here and nicely ask George to fix her book, or she could walk away and send an owl home to have her parents send her a new one. And even though she is tempted to just take the easy way out, she’ll be damned if she lets a Weasley twin get one over on her.

She takes a deep breath and plasters a sickeningly sweet, fake smile on her face. “George, would you please fix my Charms book?”

A look of surprise quickly crosses George’s face, before he replaces it with an easy smile. “Of course, Y/N. Thank you so much for being a good girl and asking nicely.” The Gryffindor table is basically in full on hysterics by now, and Y/N can feel her cheeks heating up. As soon as George has pressed his wand to her book and muttered the countercharm she snatches it off the table.

“Thanks so much, George,” she forces out, before she turns to head over to the Slytherin table. “Fucking prick.”

She sits down between Adrian and Draco Malfoy with a huff, already trying to figure out what her revenge will be. The conversation she’d had with Marcus and Daphne in Herbology pops back into her head and a wicked smile forms on her face.

“Why couldn’t you get Daphne to do this? It’s freezing out here,” Adrian whispers as he shivers.

Y/N rolls her eyes as they tiptoe through the greenhouse. “And you lot call me dramatic.” They both freeze in place when they hear a creek, but when no other noise comes they continue on. “Daphne Greengrass, awake past 10 pm? Ms. Beauty sleep is a nightmare if she doesn’t get a full 8 hours, you know that.”

When they reach the container Professor Sprout keeps the Dragon Dung fertilizer in she turns to Adrian, giving him a mischievous grin. “Besides, you know you’d regret it if you didn’t come with me. Now quick, hand me the bags.”

After they get the required materials from the Greenhouse, she and Adrian quietly sneak back in the castle and head up towards the Owlery. It takes them longer than anticipated, since they have to keep ducking behind statues and into classrooms to avoid Filch and Mrs. Norris, but eventually they make it. They both sigh in relief when they return to the common room 30 minutes later, the final part of Y/N’s plan in place for the morning.

“You kind of amaze me, you know that?” Adrian says with a laugh as they both head towards the staircases that lead to their dorms.

Y/N chuckles and shakes her head. “You’re only nice to me so you don’t end up on the end of one of my revenge plans.”

The next morning Y/N is up bright and early, her body practically vibrating with excitement. Despite the fact that the Weasley Twins have been pulling pranks on her since first year, this is the first time she’s decided to retaliate.

She could deal with most of their antics. Locking her in the toilets, charming her shampoo, hitting her with snowballs and every other little trick or joke they pulled, Y/N could just grin and bear it. But having to stand in the middle of the Great Hall and practically beg George to fix her book was her tipping point. She can practically still hear him calling her a good girl and it causes a shiver to run down her spine. After today Fred and George will certain think twice about messing with her.

“Hurry up!” she urges her friends as she races to the top of the stairs. The owl post will be arriving in a few minutes, and there is no way she’s missing the big show. Adrian picks up his pace to meet her, but Daphne and Marcus continue up the stairs slowly, caught up in conversation. “You lot are hopeless.”

Y/N practically skips into the Great Hall and after sitting down where she knows she’ll have the perfect view of what’s about to happen she rubs her hands together. Daphne and Marcus give her a confused look as they sit down across from her and Adrian, who thankfully shares her excitement.

“What has gotten into you, Y/N, you look like you’re about to jump out of your skin,” Daphne comments, sounding slightly concerned that her friend may have gone mad.

As the first few owls start to fly in, Y/N grins and gestures towards the Gryffindor table. “Shush, shush. Just look over there and you’ll find out.”

Y/N holds her breath as two familiar owls fly in, each of them holding a package. They soar towards the Gryffindor table, and instead of gracefully dropping their parcels in front of their recipients they drop them a few moments early. The brown paper bags explode as they hit Fred and George at the same time, Dragon Dung Fertilizer pouring down their heads and onto their shoulders and laps.

The entire Great Hall is silent for a moment, before nearly every student bursts into laughter. The most noise comes from the Slytherin table, and Y/N’s chest swells with pride. Adrian pats her on the back as Daphne and Marcus turn back to congratulate her on a prank well done.

Y/N can’t stop looking at the Twins, and her breath catches in her throat when they return her gaze. She sends them both a wink and a wave, giggles still falling from her lips.

“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” George asks Y/N as he and his brother slide into the seats behind her and Daphne in Defense Against the Dark Arts that afternoon. She hasn’t seen either of them since they left the Great Hall to get cleaned up, but at lunch Astoria informed her that Ginny Weasley had told her that both boys were quite annoyed.

Y/N laughs but doesn’t turn around to look at either of them. “Nice to see you boys managed to clean up.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N,” Fred says, leaning forward in his seat to ensure Y/N hears him.

She rolls her eyes, but still doesn’t look back at them. “What? You can’t take what you dish out? I thought you two were tougher than that.” Daphne nudges Y/N, gesturing to the front of the classroom where Professor Umbridge is now standing, clearly telling her to knock it off with the twins.

“Oh, it’s on. You have no idea what you’ve started,” George whispers at her. She imagines that he’s trying to sound threatening, but she can hear the smile in his voice.

As Professor Umbridge starts rambling on about her expectations, Y/N turns to face the twins. “Bring it on, bitch.”

“No magic? No practical lessons? She was joking, right?” Y/N rambles as they head towards the Great Hall for dinner. They’ve all just come from a dreadful Defense Against the Dark Arts class, where Professor Umbridge had made it very clear that they’d be spending the year doing nothing but reading from their textbooks.

Daphne rolls her eyes. “Frankly I don’t see what the big deal is. She’s not wrong, our Defense Against the Dark Arts classes have been all over the place. I think it’s a good thing that we’re finally going to have some structure and unity.”

Y/N groans, looking to Adrian and Marcus for support. She frowns when they both refuse to meet her gaze. “That’s because you don’t care about doing good on your NEWTS. You don’t need an O on your exams to marry Marcus or whoever your parents have picked out for you to be with after graduation,” she spits.

Before Daphne has the chance to pick her jaw up off of the ground and respond, Y/N is turning around and heading away from her friends, needing to be alone.

“Are you alright?”

Y/N picks her head up from where she had buried it in her arms, surprised to see Ginny Weasley standing in front of her. She nods as she uncurls her body, stretching it out slightly. She had taken refuge on a random bench in one of the corridors and after sitting on the stone for a few hours her body has begun to ache. She moves down the bench a little and gestures for Ginny to take a seat.

While the Weasley Twins are Y/N’s least favorite people in the world, she actually doesn’t mind their siblings. She had gotten to know Percy quite well, since they had been Prefects together for a year before he had become Head Boy, and he had helped her out on quite a few transfiguration assignments during her OWL year. All she knows about Ron are the things Draco has said, but she doubts that anything that comes from his mouth is true. She’s never had a conversation with Ginny, but Daphne’s younger sister Astoria is quite friendly with her, so if she’s willing to befriend a Slytherin she’s alright in Y/N’s book.

“You seemed pretty angry earlier, before dinner. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Y/N fidgets with her school robes as her cheeks flush, she had been hoping that no one had witnessed her outburst. She had heard too often that Slytherins were mean and evil, so she always did her best to contain her emotions around others, not wanting to perpetuate the stereotype even further.

“You saw that then?” When Ginny nods she sighs. “It’s just been a frustrating few days and I love my friends, but they don’t always get it. That stupid Umbridge is really going to screw me over this year and I can’t fail now. Not when I’ve spent the last seven years working my ass off.”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N that sounds awful. There’s going to be this, thing. A meeting or whatever. Next weekend during the first Hogsmeade trip,” Ginny pauses so she can tuck a piece of parchment into her hand. “Stop by, it might be, uh helpful to you.” With a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder Ginny leaves Y/N alone.

With a heavy sigh Y/N starts to head to the common room. She uncurls the piece of paper Ginny had handed her, fearful that this might be some elaborate set up for one of her brother’s tricks.

Hogshead Inn, 12 pm, is all the paper reads in neat handwriting that Y/N doesn’t recognize. She shoves the piece of parchment into her pocket as she reaches the dungeons, trying to decide whether or not to go.

The rest of the week and the next pass by slowly much to Y/N’s dismay. Things between her, Marcus and Adrian returned to somewhat normal, but Daphne is still refusing to speak to her. No matter how many times Y/N apologized Daphne just kept ignoring her. The fact that the Weasley Twins were lurking behind every corner just pushed Y/N closer to the edge, so by the time Saturday arrived Y/N didn’t care if the note Ginny had slipped her the previous week was the bait for an elaborate prank. She just needed some sort of human interaction.

Due to her and Daphne’s still strained relationship and the first Slytherin Quidditch practice of the school year, Y/N is all alone as she heads to Hogsmeade. Normally she’d not even bother going if her friends didn’t accompany her, but her lack of company makes it easier for her to slip down the forgotten path that leads to the Hogshead Inn.

She looks the dim building up and down as she approaches, grimacing at its appearance. Adrian and Marcus had tried to convince her and Daphne to enter the pub with them during one of their first trips to the little village on the outskirts of Hogwarts, but the girls had overpowered them, and dragged them into Honeydukes instead.

She pauses briefly at the entrance, trying to prepare for the things that could be waiting for her on the other side. She enters through the door slowly, her eyes widening in surprise at the scene she’s met with. It certainly is not what she had expected. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger are sitting in front of the unlit fireplace, with more than a dozen chairs facing them. Some are empty, while others are taken up by students that Y/N vaguely recognizes. Ginny gives her a wave when they make eye contact, motioning for her to take a seat.

Y/N sits down in a seat towards the back and fidgets with the sleeves of her jumper. She’s relaxed slightly since she entered, this clearly wasn’t some elaborate prank set up by Fred and George, but she’s still unsure of what she just walked in to.

“What are you doing here?” Comes a voice from behind her, causing Y/N’s shoulders to tense up. She turns around only to be met with Fred and George.

“Come to spy on us, Head Girl? Want to get all of our secrets and then run off to the greaseball you call Head of House to tattle on us?” Fred sneers as he and George push past her to take the seats in front of her.

Y/N rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “Clearly I’m here for the same reasons you are, moron. If I was spying on you why would I just be sitting here out in the open?”

Truly, Y/N has no idea what she’s doing there, Ginny had been extremely vague. All she knows is that this meeting will somehow make dealing with Umbridge better, and after the awful start to term she’s had Y/N is willing to do anything at this point.

Before either Fred or George can respond, Hermione is urging everyone to take a seat so they can begin.

45 minutes later Y/N is standing behind Fred and George, waiting her turn to sign the paper that will make her an official member of Dumbledore’s Army. Y/N was skeptical at first about getting involved in whatever Harry and Hermione had cooked up. But as Harry talked more, about needing real, practical knowledge Y/N couldn’t help but agree. She had always been so focused on school and her future career that she never even considered what lay waiting for them outside of Hogwarts’ protective walls.

Y/N hadn’t known Cedric well. A conversation or two during Prefect duties, idle pleasantries in the hall, but that was it. But she had spent much of her summer vacation thinking about him, and about what Dumbledore had said about his death. While her friends and many of her housemates thought Dumbledore was an old crack pot, Y/N trusted and believed him. Her parents did as well, and they had talked about the first wizarding war with her over dinner on several different occasions.

As she listened to Harry talk about what he had seen and what he has already dealt with, Y/N knew that she needed to be a part of whatever he was planning. Being able to get some practice with actual defensive magic would surely help her when it came to end of the year exams, but if they truly were getting ready for another war, it may just help save her life.

As she heads back towards school, she can’t help but think about a conversation she’d had with her father not too long before the school year started again. He had reminded her that she had been placed in Slytherin house because of her ambitions in life, and her willingness to do whatever it takes to get there. Before he had kissed her goodnight he told her that it wasn’t always what you know, but who you know and that the people she surrounded herself with was just as important as focusing on her studies.

At first she had scoffed at his thinly veiled digs at her friends. Y/N has been friends with Marcus, Daphne and Adrian since first year, and she had never felt the need to expand her circle. Her parents were quite familiar with the families her friends came from, and the values they held. She knew that her parents didn’t exactly like her friends but were still supportive of Y/N and the relationship she formed with them.

But now, after seeing how badly the Daily Prophet was slandering both Dumbledore and Harry and hearing directly from Harry what he’d been through, Y/N understands what her father was saying. The Greengrass’ and Flint’s had been suspected Death Eaters all those years ago and its likely members of Adrian’s family had ties to Voldemort as well. Her father had been encouraging her to seek out new friendships to try and protect her from the Dark Arts that seemed very attractive to members of Slytherin house.

She’s so lost in thought that she doesn’t hear the Weasley Twins coming up behind her until they’re knocking into her shoulders as they pass by. She flips them off behind their backs, trying to ignore their chuckling.

“I can’t believe I just signed up to spend even more time with those twats,” she mumbles to herself as the castle comes into view. While she doesn’t mind having Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny on her side, she plans on staying as far away from the Weasley Twins as possible.

That night at dinner Y/N is listening to Adrian and Marcus bicker over what drills to run during their next practice when her mouth starts to tingle. Her eyes widen when she takes another sip of pumpkin juice and the sensation only gets worse. Adrian and Marcus give her a concerned look as she begins to fidget and from the corner of her eye Y/N can see that Daphne is watching as well.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Adrian asks as Y/N slaps her hands over her mouth.

Except she can’t respond. Her tongue has started to swell in her mouth so much so that it’s trying to force its way past her lips. It feels like it weighs a ton and as the pain increases she has no choice but to let it slowly seep out of her mouth.

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” she hears George shout from the Gryffindor table, causing groups of students to look over at her. She’s desperately trying to contain her growing tongue as she gets up to head to the Hospital Wing.

“Cat got your tongue?” she can hear Fred call behind her, nearly drowned out by the peeling laughter coming from the Great Hall.

When she gets back to the common room that night, Y/N is expecting it to be empty. But when she’s barely closed the door behind her a mess of black curls takes over her vision and arms wrap around her tightly.

“Oh, thank Merlin you’re alright. I thought you would have been back ages ago. What happened?” Daphne asks as she lets go. She leads Y/N over to a set of couches in the corner, where Adrian and Marcus are waiting for them.

Adrian pulls her down next to him and Daphne sits so close to Y/N on the other side that she’s practically in her lap. “Would you all stop fussing? I’m fine, honest,” she says with a reassuring laugh. While Y/N is fine, she can’t help but lean into Adrian’s side, feeling relieved that things are back to normal between the four of them.

“Let me guess, Weasley Twin revenge?” Marcus asks.

Y/N nods, smiling when Daphne curses them under her breath. “A creation they like to call Ton-Tongue Toffees. They must have managed to get it into my goblet or something, so it melted into my pumpkin juice. It took ages to get the swelling to go down but Madam Pomfrey managed it. I’ve just spent the last 45 minutes listening to Snape try and get the maximum punishment for them.”

Y/N knows that not many people like Snape, that it’s really only Slytherins that appreciate him. It’s no secret that he favors his house almost unfairly so, but she doesn’t really mind it when he’s advocating for them. The twins had technically poisoned her, which is something Snape had pointed out when McGonagall suggested only taking points away from the boys for a “harmless” prank. Snape had managed to negotiate on Y/N’s behalf, and the boys will now be serving a week’s detention with Snape.

“So, what are you gonna do to get back at them?” Daphne asks, causing all three of them to give her a look. “What?”

“What happened to all that crap about just ignoring them?” Marcus teases.

Daphne rolls her eyes. “To hell with all that. They want a prank war? Well then let’s show them what being a Slytherin is all about.”

By the time Monday morning rolls around Y/N is in such a good mood that she practically skips down the stairs to Potions. The fake Galleon Ginny had slipped her during lunch yesterday had burned red this morning, letting Y/N know that the DA’s first official meeting would be taking place this Thursday. So not only was she going to get some real defensive magic training, but after the Twin’s prank on Saturday evening her and Daphne were able to properly make up and she had her friends back.

She bites her lip as the twins fall in step beside her once again, determined not to let their presence ruin her mood.

“How’s your tongue feeling this morning?” Fred asks from her right side.

“Any bloating? Tingling? Lasting side effects?” George teases from her left side.

Y/N shakes her head and chuckles. “It’s okay boys, go ahead and make your jokes. I want you to remember how good you feel now, because once I’ve gotten you back you’ll wish you’d never messed with me.”

She can hear them both laugh as they enter the Potions class and take their respective seats. “Really? Already planning your next late-night trip into the greenhouses?” George muses.

Y/N turns in her seat so she can look each of them in the eyes. “Oh, you poor, sweet, boys,” she mocks. “When I’m done with you the dragon dung fertilizer you took to the head will seem like a shower of rose petals.” She gives them a sly wink, and turns back around, their shocked expressions still dancing around in her brain.

“So, you figured out what you’re going to do them, then?” Daphne asks excitedly after Y/N has finished recounting her conversation with Fred and George to her and Marcus in Herbology. Professor Sprout has tasked them with dissecting Shrivelfigs, so the three of them can talk freely. Even though her and her friends had spent most of Sunday trying to concoct the perfect revenge plan they had come up with nothing that was quite right.

“I guess you could say that.” When Marcus and Daphne give her questioning looks she giggles. “I’m not going to actually do anything to them.” When they both still look confused she rolls her eyes. “I’m just going to let them think that something big is coming. That way they’re always on edge when I’m around, always looking over their shoulders, waiting for some huge prank to befall them. It’ll drive them bonkers trying to figure out when and where it’s gonna happen.”

Marcus gives Y/N a look of appreciation. “Damn, that’s pretty brilliant, Y/N.”

Y/N bows at his praise, causing Daphne to chuckle. “What they got this morning is just a taste of what I have planned for tonight.”

Y/N sneaks out of the common room that night, not too long after dinner. She knows that Fred and George will be serving detention with Snape and that it’s the perfect opportunity to mess with them.

When she reaches the Potions classroom she pauses just outside the door to ensure that Snape isn’t actually still in the room with the boys. When all she can hear is the clatter of cauldrons and Fred and George’s soft voices, she decides to go for it.

“Excuse me, Professor?” Y/N asks innocently as she enters the classroom. “Oh, boys! What a treat, seeing you down in our ends this late at night.” Y/N walks further into the classroom and she can’t help but smile as the twins start to fidget.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Fred asks, eyeing her warily.

She puts the most innocent look on her face as she can, blinking up at the two of them. “I’m looking for Professor Snape. Is he around?”

“No, he left us alone quite a bit ago,” George responds. Y/N can tell he’s trying to hide how nervous he sounds. Fred seems like the one to never back down, so Y/N switches her tactic slightly. She starts to walk closer to George and she has to bite her lip to keep the smile off her face as he tries to subtly move away from her.

“That’s a shame. I have a question I need to ask him.” Y/N leans against the table, moving that much closer to George. “Did he say when he was going to be back?”

“He didn’t,” Fred answers, making direct eye contact with Y/N. She returns his gaze, not backing down until he looks away from her.

Feeling accomplished Y/N smacks the table with her palm and stands back up. “Well I guess I’ll leave you boys to it.” She heads towards the door. “Have fun.” With one final wink she’s out the door, laughing to herself as she goes.

Before Y/N knows it, Thursday has already arrived. She tries her best to contain her excitement, but as the first DA meeting approaches it’s getting harder and harder. She feels bad for not telling her friends about what she’s involved in, but she knows it’s for the better. They certainly wouldn’t approve of the unofficial club, and she doesn’t want to chance that they’ll blow the whole operation in to Umbridge.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Y/N says with a wave as she heads to leave the common room. She told the others she had some Head Girl duties to take care of so they wouldn’t try and come with her when she left.

As she heads towards the room of requirement Y/N takes the time to glance over her shoulder every once in a while to make sure no one is following her. She had been the only Slytherin in attendance at the Hogshead Inn, and she doesn’t need to be trusted even less by bringing unwanted guests with her.

When she finally enters the room of requirement it’s a bit crowded, but she can tell that not everyone has arrived yet. Ginny waves at Y/N, motioning for her to come and join her and Hermione. She’s silently thankful for her invitation so she doesn’t have to stand there by herself and goes to join the two girls.

“Hey, Ginny. Granger,” she greets them both with an awkward wave. She doesn’t know much about Hermione, again, having only heard about her from Draco. She’s had to interact with her a few times due to Hermione being a prefect, but for some odd reason she trusts Ginny, so she figures that Hermione is alright to hang out with.

“Y/N I’m really glad you decided to join. Not only is it probably helpful to have the Head Girl on our side, it’s also really nice to have some house diversity,” Hermione says with a genuine smile.

Y/N can feel her cheeks start to heat up, so she clears her throat, giving her a moment to regain her composure. “Thanks, Hermione. I never really understood it, all of the house rivalry mumbo jumbo. I’m just supposed to automatically hate you because some hat put you in one house over another? Seems silly to me.”

She hears someone scoff behind her, and she turns to see George standing behind her, his arms crossed over his chest. “What? Got a problem, Weasley?”

“That’s real big talk considering the fact that you’ve had some grudge against me and Fred since first year, Y/N,” he says, looking at her curiously.

“I don’t hate you and Fred because you’re Gryffindors,” she explains with an eye roll. “I hate you because you’re ungodly annoying.” She bites her lip, allowing herself to look him up and down. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and Y/N can’t deny that his arms look downright filthy. She had never truly looked at George, he was quieter than Fred, so he didn’t quite capture her attention like his brother had. But now that he’s standing over her, she can’t deny that he’s attractive. He is most certainly her mortal enemy, but he’s an attractive enemy at least.

“If anything, you and Fred are the ones who started our rivalry,” she continues a moment later when her eyes meet his again. “You locked me in the girl’s bathroom with Moaning Myrtle for three hours on the second day of school, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” George says with a laugh. “Forgot about that.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, turning her attention to Harry as he starts the meeting. He decides to start with something basic but effective, disarming. Y/N could disarm any witch or wizard in her sleep, but not everyone there is at the same skill level, so she’s willing to get some practice in.

They start to break up into pairs and Y/N looks around, trying to find someone, anyone to work with. Of course, George is with Fred, Ginny is already working with a Ravenclaw Y/N thinks is named Luna, and Hermione is with Ron. She ends up locking eyes with Neville Longbottom and she motions for him to come join her.

“I’ll work with you Neville.”

He gives her an appreciative smile, and as he crosses the room George nudges him. “Watch out for her Neville. You never know what she might be up to, this could all be a big ploy to take out the entire Gryffindor house.”

Y/N flips him off, giving Neville a warm smile. “Just ignore him, he’s an idiot.” They both take their stance, wands at the ready. She has heard Draco and his cronies make fun of Neville for hours on end, so she’s not really expecting much to happen.

When Neville waves his wand and shouts Expelliarmus, his own wand flies out of his hand and clatters to the floor at Y/N’s feet. His cheeks turn a bright red, and Y/N can practically feel how embarrassed he is. He looks at her expectantly, like he’s waiting for her to laugh and say something rude.

She sends him a smile and grabs his wand. “That was a really good try, Neville. The first time I tried to disarm someone I nearly blinded Professor Quirrell when my wand shot out of my hand and flew across the room,” she reassures him with a laugh. When Neville laughs too she hands him his wand back. “Here, try moving your wand like this.” She shows him the proper wand movement before she takes her place again. “Ready?”

Two hours later when Y/N is heading back towards the Slytherin common room, she feels accomplished. Neville had managed to get her wand to wiggle in her grip by the end of it, and she could tell he was proud of himself.

Y/N is thinking about all the homework she has to do tonight when someone falls into step beside her. “Alright, give it up, what’s your deal?”

She looks up at George before she examines the rest of the hallway. “Where’s your brother? I thought you two did everything together.”

“He’s down in the kitchens getting food, not that it’s any of your business,” he adds quickly. “And stop dodging the question. What’s your deal?”

She rolls her eyes and stops walking. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” George turns to face her, crossing his arms over his chest. She mirrors his stance, looking up at him.

“Don’t play stupid. You know what I’m talking about.”

Y/N sighs, rolling her eyes again. “So, what because I’m a Slytherin I can’t participate in clandestine clubs? Your sister is the one who invited me to that meeting, so go and ask her why she did it. All I did was show up. I liked what Harry said and since Umbridge isn’t doing anything to help us with NEWTS I signed up. That’s it.”

George doesn’t respond immediately, instead he studies Y/N’s face, trying to see if she’s lying. He goes to say something when someone interrupts them.

“Mr. Weasley! Ms. Y/L/N!” They both jump as Professor McGonagall comes down the hall towards them. “What are you two doing out past curfew?” Y/N and George look to each other with a worried glance, not entirely sure what to say. “Never mind the reason, you shouldn’t be out of your common rooms at this hour. I’ll have 15 points from each of your houses and I’ll see you both in detention tomorrow evening!”

Y/N gives George one last glare before she stalks all the way back to her common room.

“What exactly were you doing standing in a hallway with George Weasley past curfew anyway?” Daphne asks Y/N the next day at lunch.

Daphne had just finished explaining the evening she had planned out for them when Y/N informed her that she’d be stuck in detention with George for the beginning portion of their girl’s night.

Y/N shrugs, trying to act casual. “I finished up my Head Girl stuff and was going back to the common room when I saw him sneaking around. I followed him, figuring I could catch him doing something. I confronted him and McGonagall saw us and gave us detention.”

“Maybe that was his plan all along, maybe he was trying to get you in trouble,” Daphne suggests.

“Yeah but he got in trouble too, Daph,” Y/N reminds her with a laugh.

The other girl shrugs, taking a bite of her Yorkshire pudding. “I didn’t say it was a smart plan.” Marcus and Adrian arrive then, taking their respective seats next to the girls.

“Who didn’t have a smart plan?” Marcus asks as he starts to pile food on his plate.

“George Weasley,” Y/N answers, batting away Adrian’s hand as he tries to steal her roll. “I caught him sneaking around one of the hallways after curfew and McGonagall rolled up on us and gave us detention.”

“Detention? On a Friday night? What about our hot date?” Adrian teases, making another attempt at stealing her roll.

Y/N flips him off and lets him have it. “The only hot date you’re going to have tonight is your right hand.”

Y/N groans as she picks up another teapot to clean. Her and George have been serving their detention in complete silence for twenty minutes and her brain feels like it’s going to mush. “Is detention always this boring?” she asks, not really expecting George to respond.

“No. But mostly because I’m usually with Fred, not you,” George replies dully.

“Oh, how you wound me, George,” she responds, mocking the tone he had used with her on the first day of term.

They work together in silence for a few minutes before George puts down the teapot he had been scrubbing and tosses his rag to the side. “So, I asked Ginny,” he says, turning to look at Y/N.

Y/N gives him a look as she turns to face him as well, discarding what she had been doing. “Asked Ginny what?”

George rolls his eyes at her, clearly annoyed that Y/N had forgotten the conversation they had in the hall the previous night. “Why she told you about the meeting at the Hogshead, about Dumbledore’s Army.”

“Oh,” she responds softly. When she had said that to George last night she hadn’t expected him to actually ask, she was just trying to get him to leave her alone. “And what did she say?” George gives her a look, causing Y/N to roll her eyes. “Fine, don’t tell me. You’re the one that brought it up.”

George chuckles at her frustration. “Aw come on, I’m just kidding.” He pauses. “She said that Astoria Greengrass talks about you a ton, about how you’re different than other Slytherins. She said something about how you got into a fight with your friends, and she decided that if she talked to you and you were cool enough, she would invite you.”

“So, I’ve got the Ginny Weasley stamp of approval? I’m honored,” she says with a laugh, her surprise evident in her tone. “Does that make me alright then? Since I’m different than other Slytherins? Whatever that means.”

George shrugs his shoulders. “I think I know what she means.” When Y/N raises an eyebrow at him he continues. “Oh, come on don’t act like you don’t know it. You’re nice.”

Y/N scoffs, lightly shoving his arm. “Slytherins being mean is just a stereotype, George. Tons of the people in my house are nice. Daphne is nice, and so are Marcus and Adrian.”

“Cut the crap, Y/N,” he chides. “Daphne, Marcus and Adrian are nice to you and the other members of your house because you all share that in common. But you’re nice to, well most people honestly. Everyone even, except maybe me and Fred. But we aren’t nice to you either, so I understand it.”

Y/N opens her mouth to respond, but George puts his hand up to stop her. “Take yesterday, for example. I saw you, with Neville. The way you made him feel better about his failure, how you encouraged him and helped him improve. Daphne or Marcus or any other Slytherin wouldn’t have done that. They’d have laughed in his face and you know it.”

“I guess you’re right,” she admits softly, a slight blush on her cheeks from George’s kind words.

“So, you’re so worried about your NEWTs that you’re willing to spend hours practicing a spell you mastered in 2nd year? Thought you were top of our class?” he teases.

Y/N plays with her fingers and fidgets in her seat. She knows the question is innocent, but it feels like George can see right into her soul. That’s he looking at all her worst fears. “I am, yeah. I need at least an Exceeds Expectations on my defense against the dark arts NEWT to be a Healer and I’ve already worked so hard, I can’t screw it up now, not when I’m this close.”

George is silent for a moment and he turns in his chair so he’s fully facing Y/N. When she does the same he speaks. “I didn’t know you want to be a healer.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Weasley. What is it you said? I’m not nice to you and you’re not nice to me. It’s always been that way.”

“Yeah I guess so,” he admits. “I never imagined you as a Healer, if I’m honest. But I think you’ll be amazing at it.”

Y/N blushes and looks down. “Thanks, I appreciate it. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to be, since I was a little kid. I used to pretend to Heal my dolls all the time. My parents even gave me a muggle doctors coat for Christmas once, I wore it like, every day,” she reminisces with a laugh.

George laughs along with her. “I fear that I may have seriously misjudged you, Y/N.”

“What do you mean?” she asks, lightly shoving his shoulder.

George blushes and Y/N finds it endearing. “I figured you and your family were like the other pureblood Slytherin dynasties. That you cared about your grades to make you a more appealing bride or something.”

Y/N nods in understanding. “Yeah I don’t blame you on that one. That’s what most people think. My parents were raised like that and they hated it. All the stupid rules, the lack of freedom. They’re lucky, they were able to find genuine love with each other. And they’re still so in love, it’s actually pretty sickening,” she says with a laugh. “But they agreed that when they had kids they wouldn’t raise them like that. That they’d let them think for themselves, find their own way in life. It’s been so hard, not to send an owl to my dad and tell him all about Dumbledore’s Army.”

“Really? He’d approve of it?” he asks, unable to help how surprised he sounds.

“Oh yeah,” she confirms with a laugh. “He was so angry all summer, with what the Daily Prophet is saying about Harry and Dumbledore. He even not so subtly suggested that I expand my horizons, make some friendships and connections with people from other houses. I think he’d be really excited about what Harry’s doing.”

“That’s actually really cool. I guess I definitely misjudged you then.”

They both get back to work then, but Y/N doesn’t feel as awkward anymore. She’s never bothered to have an actual conversation with either of the Weasley Twins, and she is quite surprised to find that she actually really enjoyed it.

When Y/N and George leave the transfiguration classroom a few hours later she’s exhausted and silently thanks Merlin that she is a Witch, because cleaning the muggle way is dreadful. Despite the late hour Y/N is surprised to see that the hallway isn’t empty. Adrian and Fred are leaning up against the wall across from the transfiguration classroom a few feet apart, glaring at each other.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asks with a soft laugh, altering both boys of their arrival.

“I wanted to make sure George was alright. You’ve been spouting about your grand revenge plan all week, I wanted to make sure you didn’t try and pull anything while you two were alone,” Fred answers, finally looking away from Adrian so he can glare at Y/N.

Y/N rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t talking to you, Weasley. I don’t care why you’re here.” When Fred flips her off she returns the gesture.

“To answer your question,” Adrian starts as he walks towards her. “I came to accompany you back to the common room. A gentleman never lets a lady walk alone at night.”

“Well then where’s this gentleman?” she teases, looking around the hallway.

Before Adrian can respond Fred laughs. “Yeah, I don’t see a lady either.” George’s laughter joins his brothers and Y/N flips them off again.

When Adrian starts to move closer to Fred, Y/N grabs his arm and pulls him into her chest. “Not here, Adrian,” she whispers. “McGonagall is right in there,” she reminds him, gesturing towards the open classroom door with her head.

“You are so lucky, weasel,” Adrian practically growls at him. Y/N wraps her arms around Adrian’s waist and starts to pull him down the hall away from Fred and George. Adrian glares at them one last time before he turns forward and wraps his arm around her shoulder. “You should have let me hit him. One good hit would have been worth a month’s detention.”

“Not this close to quidditch season it’s not. Smack a few good bludgers at him instead,” Y/N pauses and she looks up at Adrian with her best puppy dog eyes. “Piggyback ride? Please?”

Adrian sighs heavily but crouches down in front of Y/N, nonetheless. She squeals in delight, climbing onto her friend’s back. Adrian grips her thighs tightly as he stands. “Ready?” Once he feels Y/N nod he sets off towards the common room. “You’re lucky I love you, brat.”

When Fred and George slide into their seats behind Y/N in Potions on Monday morning they don’t say a word. When she saw them enter the room she had tensed up, just waiting for whatever snarky comment they were bound to make. So, when they take their seats without a word, Y/N can’t help but turn around to look at them.

“What’s wrong with you two?” When neither of them responds, Y/N waves her hand in front of their faces. “Hello? Earth to Nitwit 1 and Nitwit 2.” She expected her insult to get them to at least look at her, but both of their focus is on the blackboard in the front of the room. She huffs in annoyance. “Whatever be pricks. I don’t care.” She turns back around and crosses her arms, trying to convince herself that she in fact doesn’t care that they’re ignoring her.

“Will you stop staring at them? It’s weird,” Marcus scolds Y/N that night at dinner, kicking her shin under the table to get her attention.

Y/N kicks him back, finally tearing her attention away from Fred and George. “They’re planning something,” she insists.

Daphne rolls her eyes and throws a carrot at Y/N. “First you complain that they’re always loud and bothering you and now you’re complaining that they aren’t bothering you. Will you just give it a rest? Be thankful that they’ve finally decided to leave you alone.”

Y/N sticks her tongue out at Daphne before she takes a bite out of the carrot she had thrown at her. She knows Daphne is right, but she can’t help but be bothered that Fred and George aren’t even trying to annoy her. As much as she hates to admit it, she misses their antics. Y/N had really enjoyed George’s company during their detention and part of her had hoped that maybe their newfound acquaintanceship would have carried over once they were no longer the only people in the room.

So, she had found herself quite disappointed that he hadn’t said a word to her all day. He hadn’t even looked at her. Y/N thought she had felt his gaze on her during Charms, but when she turned around to check he was focused on Flitwick.

“Daph is right,” Adrian whispers in her ear, bringing her thoughts back to the present. “They’re finally leaving you alone, you should be happy.”

Y/N shrugs her shoulders, her gaze falling upon Fred and George once again. “I am happy,” she lies. “I just know them too well. They’re planning something big. They’re trying to throw me off.” She flips her friends off when they all groan.

“What makes you think they’re planning something?” Marcus asks. “Did something happen between you and George during detention? You didn’t say too much about it.”

Y/N bites her lip. She hadn’t said much to her friends about her detention when her and Adrian arrived back in the common room that night, just that it was mind numbingly boring. She didn’t want them to know that she had not only had a conversation with George Weasley, but she had actually enjoyed it.

“No, nothing happened. We sat there cleaning teapots for hours, McGonagall came back and she let us go,” she says with a shrug, trying to seem casual. “He didn’t even say two words to me.”

“Exactly, so chill out. Enjoy the peace,” Daphne says.

When Y/N finally collapses in her bed that night she can’t seem to fall asleep despite how tired she is. She tosses and turns, her mind wandering to George and why she’s so bothered by the sudden lack of attention she’s getting from him. Her stomach lurches, realization hitting her like a ton of bricks.

I have a crush on George Weasley.

Y/N spends the rest of the week avoiding both Weasley Twins. She sits as far away from them as possible, refuses to look at them and even goes as far as to hide in an empty classroom when she sees them heading towards her one afternoon. Y/N is determined to extinguish whatever positive feelings she has towards George. She’s spent the past seven years hating his guts, and she is not about to let herself reverse all of that over some stupid crush. Unfortunately for Y/N, on Saturday morning her fake Galleon burns red, letting her know that there will be another DA meeting that night.

Which is why she’s currently heading towards the Room of Requirement, her stomach a pit of dread and despair. “Get it together, Y/N,” she mutters to herself. Y/N is standing just outside the room of requirement and she takes a deep breath to calm herself down.

Y/N pulls the door open and goes to head in, but she runs smack into the chest of someone trying to leave. An involuntary squeal leaves her lips as her body tenses up, preparing itself to hit the ground. Except she doesn’t even fall. A pair of strong arms wrap around her waist and she’s pulled into the other person’s chest.

“Woah there. Watch where you’re going.”

Y/N doesn’t have to look up to know that George Weasley is holding her in his arms. She can feel her cheeks heat up and she pushes away from him, needing to get away from him as fast as possible. “I could say the same to you, Weasley,” she sneers.

Even though her tone is crude Y/N can feel her heart fluttering in her chest and her skin is tingling from his touch. She looks up at his face, letting her eyes linger on his lips for just a second. She tries not to think about what it would feel like for him to grip her waist as they kissed.

“No need to be so feisty, Y/N,” George teases, snapping Y/N out of her thoughts.

She rolls her eyes and steps aside so George can leave, Fred following close behind him. “Maybe if you weren’t trying to mow me down I wouldn’t need to be,” she responds, watching as Fred flips her off behind his back.

She watches them walk away for a moment before heading into the room of requirement. Her palms are sweaty even from that small interaction with George and Y/N tries to subtly wipe them off on her skirt as she joins Ginny, Hermione and Ron in the back of the room.

“Where are they off to?” she asks after they’ve been talking for a few minutes, not wanting to seem too interested in George’s movements.

“Filch has been sniffing around for Umbridge, she knows Harry is up to something. So, Fred and George are going to slip him something that’ll put him out of commission for few hours,” Hermione explains.

Y/N nods. Hermione had made a few complaints to both Y/N and Miles, a Ravenclaw in her year that was Head Boy, that Fred and George had been spending their free time making an array of joke products and then testing them out on first years. “Despite the fact that I have been the victim of a Weasley product, I can’t say I feel bad for Filch.”

Once Fred and George slip back into the room of requirement and give Harry a thumbs up, he starts the meeting. They’re going to continue working on disarming, and Y/N immediately searches for Neville in the crowd. Neville certainly isn’t the most talented wizard, but Y/N can tell that he’s full of determination and she likes working with him. When Harry sets them off to work Neville joins her.

“You better watch out, Y/N, I’ve been practicing,” Neville says with a laugh as they take their stances.

“Alright then, Longbottom, let’s see what you’ve got.”

When Y/N leaves the Room of Requirement later that night, she can still hear Neville chattering to his friends happily as they head back to Gryffindor tower. It had taken him most of the meeting, but Neville had finally managed to get her wand to fly out of her hand. She was extremely happy for him as the other members of the DA came around to congratulate him, and not just because George had pressed up against her back as he patted Neville on the shoulder.

“Sneaking away without saying Goodbye, Y/N? I’m hurt,” George scolds teasingly as he comes up behind her.

She rolls her eyes, trying to contain her excitement. “Oh, so you’re speaking to me again?” she says as he falls into step next to her. He’s standing so close that their arms almost brush, and Y/N swallows down the butterflies that come up her throat.

“Aw, did little Y/N miss me?” George teases, shoving her shoulder.

“No,” Y/N responds far too quickly, trying not to get flustered from the contact. “Just surprised that you managed to go a whole week without annoying me that’s all.”

“Uh huh. Sure, whatever you say.”

She bites her lip, trying to contain her glee. Cut it out, she scolds herself. George Weasley is nothing more than an annoying git, you do not like him.

“Why are you following me, anyway? Last I checked Gryffindor’s common room is in the other direction,” she questions as they head down towards the Great Hall.

Y/N watches George shrug out of the corner of her eye. His face is blank, but Y/N can tell that he’s nervous. “Making sure you’re not getting up to anything is all.”

“Or you’re distracting me while your brother sets up some kind of trap,” she responds.

Suddenly she feels George’s hand wrap around her wrist and he’s pulling her into a nearby broom closet. As he slams the door shut behind them Y/N can’t help but notice just how close they are. Her back is pressed up against the wall and George is standing only a few inches away, his hands on either side of her head.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/N demands, hoping that her voice doesn’t shake. George is towering over her, and Y/N can see the muscles on his forearms bulging in her peripheral vision. It is taking every ounce of willpower in her body to stay still.

George leans down as he chuckles and his warm breath tickles Y/N’s cheeks, causing a shiver to run down her spine. “I think what you mean to say is thank you because I just saved your ass from serving another detention with McGonagall.”

Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. “McGonagall? I didn’t see-.“ Y/N’s sentence is cut short as George places his hand over her mouth to silence her. Her breathing involuntarily speeds up and she hopes that George can’t feel the blush on her cheeks. Y/N can hear footsteps approaching the broom closet and she closes her eyes in fear of being caught in such a compromising position with George.

Thankfully the footsteps disappear just as quicky as they had come and Y/N sighs in relief when George takes his hand away. “Thank you,” she mutters. Y/N can still feel the imprint of his hand on her mouth and it makes her stomach feel queasy.

“You’re welcome,” George says, sounding pleased with himself. “We should probably stay here for a moment or two longer, just to make sure she’s gone.”

Y/N nods, her head tilting back so she can look at George’s face. She examines his features closely, trying to commit them to memory. After her realization earlier in the week she had spent every moment trying not to think about George, but now that they’re standing there so close he’s the only thing she can think about.

George clears his throat suddenly, breaking Y/N from her thoughts. “We’re uh, we’re probably good to go.”

“Yeah,” she agrees softly, trying not to let the disappointment she feels seep into her voice.

George lingers a moment longer, before he pulls away and slowly opens the door to their hiding spot. Y/N watches as he checks the hallway and follows him out when the coast is clear.

“Well um. Thanks for that,” she stutters, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’ll see you around, I guess.” Y/N starts to walk away, but she pauses when George follows behind her. She turns to look at him. “What are you doing?”

“You might still be up to something. I should follow you, just to make sure,” he responds confidently.

Y/N rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anymore, not wanting her giddiness to become noticeable. They walk side by side silently with Y/N glancing at George every few steps. As they reach the landing Y/N goes to turn down the corridor that will lead her down into the dungeons when she runs smack into someone for the second time that night. Except this time, it’s much less enjoyable.

“Professor Umbridge! I am so sorry,” Y/N apologizes as she fixes her balance. She may hate the woman, but she’ll be nice to her if it’ll get her out of a detention.

“Oh Ms. Y/L/N it is quite alright,” she practically squeaks while smiling at Y/N. Y/N imagines it’s meant to seem sweet, but it looks more like an evil grin. Umbridge’s eyes suddenly narrow as she looks past Y/N at George. “Mr. Weasley! Out in the corridors past curfew again I see. That’ll be detention with me, Monday and Tuesday evening.”

Y/N can hear George sputter behind her, and she turns around, cringing at the angry look on his face. “What about Y/N?” he asks angrily. “She’s out past curfew as well!”

Umbridge tuts, moving past Y/N as she heads back towards her office. “Yes, but Ms. Y/L/N is Head Girl I’m sure she has a good reason for being out in the halls.” Umbridge puts her hand up to stop George from responding. “Now that is enough out of you, Mr. Weasley. I suggest you head back to your common room before I make your detention a whole week.”

They both watch as Umbridge walks away and when Y/N turns to look at George, he’s already watching her. “I’m really sorry about that, George,” she says quietly.

George scoffs. “Yeah whatever.” He stalks off then, and it takes everything in Y/N to not follow behind him.

As Y/N enters the common room her plan is to stalk off to her dorm and get in bed as quick as possible. She’s gone through a whirlwind of emotions over the past few hours and all she wants to do is fall asleep, so she doesn’t have to feel any of them. All of that changes however, since when Y/N finally steps into the common room there is music blaring and people are everywhere.

Y/N makes eye contact with Adrian across the crowd and he clumsily waves her over. She slowly makes her way through the crowd. The air is heavy and hot from all of the people and it smells of firewhiskey. When she finally reaches Adrian, he stumbles over his own feet as he pulls her closer and she notices Marcus is seated on the couch with Daphne sprawled out across his lap; all of her friends are clearly very, very drunk.

“Y/N! You made it!” Daphne yells happily when she notices Y/N’s arrival. She wobbles as she gets out of Marcus’ lap and practically falls into Y/N, giving her a tight hug.

“Someone’s having a good time,” Y/N says with a laugh. Drunk Daphne is one of Y/N’s favorite things, and it’s rare that she gets to see it. Daphne is always prim and proper. She never has a hair out of place and she rarely lets herself goof off with her friends; she’s always their voice of reason. So, when she lets loose, she really goes for it, and it always leaves Y/N in hysterics.

“Where’ve you been? Party started ages ago,” Marcus says slowly, his words slurring together. He grabs Daphne’s hands and tries to pull her into his lap, but they’re both so drunk that they end up falling over, and Daphne somehow ends up on the ground with Marcus on top of her.

Y/N and Adrian burst out in laughter, with Adrian leaning on Y/N for support. His drink sloshes in his hand, and Y/N takes it from him to avoid it spilling everywhere. She eyes his glass warily, trying to decide if she wants to join her friends in drunk land. Her plan had been to sleep away her emotions but drinking them away will work just as well.

“I guess I have some catching up to do then.” Y/N downs the entire glass in one go, her warm bed long forgotten.

A few hours and far too many glasses of Firewhiskey later the party has died down and Y/N is slumped over in the corner of the common room, cradled in a large pile of pillows that Adrian had assembled for her. Daphne and Marcus had disappeared several minutes ago, probably to make out somewhere and once they had Adrian moved from the nearby couch to join Y/N. He’s laying on his back, head in Y/N’s lap as he listens to her complain about George Weasley.

“He’s just so annoying,” she drawls, her words coming out fairly jumbled. Y/N has said the same sentence at least five times in the past 10 minutes, but she’s too drunk to remember or care. She’s been rambling on about George and every mildly annoying this he’s done since the moment they’ve met and she’s having a hard time remembering what she’s already mentioned. “And his face, don’t even get me started on his face.”

When Adrian groans she smacks him on the forehead. “Can’t you talk about something else,” he murmurs. “Anything else, please.”

Y/N smacks him on the forehead again before starting to run her fingers through his hair. It’s his only weakness and she’s hoping it’ll keep him quiet. “There is nothing else to talk about,” she says, her tone condescending. “It’s empty up here, no thoughts,” she giggles, hitting herself lightly in the head with her free hand. “No thoughts, just George Weasley and his face. His pretty, pretty face. And oh god his lips. They look so damn soft. D’you think their soft?”

Adrian hums, not really paying attention to the words coming out of Y/N’s mouth. She’d started to lightly scratch his scalp as she talked, and any ability he had to comprehend the English language disappeared. “Yeah sure, whatever.”

Y/N sighs dreamily, thinking about what it would be like to kiss George. “Bet he’s really good at it,” she muses. “And his hands,” she adds a moment later, practically moaning. “They’re so big and strong. He’s got good fingers too. Bet he knows how to use them.” Y/N rubs her thighs together involuntarily as she feels herself starting to get turned on. Y/N’s eyes start to close as the copious amount of alcohol she drank starts to catch up with her. “You wanna know something funny? I don’t hate George Weasley anymore.”

“Is that so?” Adrian mumbles, starting to drift off as well.

“Mhm,” she hums. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.”

The next morning Y/N is awake far earlier than she’d like to be. Adrian’s elbow was digging into her back, and she tried to ignore it for as long as possible, but eventually she just gave up and pulled herself off of the floor.

Her head is pounding, she feels groggy and she desperately wants to crawl into her bed. But her stomach grumbles loudly and so instead of dragging her body down the staircase that would lead to her dorm, she drags herself towards the portrait hole, still in the clothes she had on yesterday.

When Y/N finally makes it to the Great Hall she practically crawls over to the Slytherin table and plops down in the first open seat. Thankfully it’s still early, so not many people are around and it’s fairly quiet. She starts to grab random food, not really caring what it is. She’s cursing herself for challenging Adrian to a drinking contest as she goes to grab the pitcher of orange juice, but a large hand beats her to it.

“George?” she asks in surprise when she looks up.

He doesn’t say anything as he fills her goblet up for her. He takes a seat across from her and fills his own goblet before he starts to pile eggs on his plate. “Yes?” he answers casually, as if he eats breakfast with Y/N every morning.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N watches George as he begins to eat, her eyes searching his face for some kind of hint of what he’s up to. George shrugs as a light laugh tumbles from his mouth.

“Eating breakfast?” he asks, gesturing to his plate like it’s obvious. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Y/N rolls her eyes playfully, watching as he grabs an apple. She watches as his fingers wrap around it and she practically drools. A tingle runs down her spine as she imagines his fingers wrapping around something else.

“Obviously I can see that you’re eating,” she says a moment later when her thoughts become PG. “I meant what are you doing sitting here. With me. At the Slytherin table.”

George smirks at her. “Why? Do I make you nervous?” His lips wrap around the apple as he takes a bite, and Y/N has to take a bite of her muffin to stop herself from moaning right there in the middle of the Great Hall.

George’s hair is ruffled from sleep, and he looks cozy in the homemade jumper he’s wearing. His eyes are soft, and his lips look even softer. Y/N is dreaming about what it would feel like to lean across the table and kiss him, when she realizes that he asked her a question.

“Not at all,” she says, her voice shaking. “It just isn’t like you, that’s all. Besides last night when you left it seemed like you were angry at me,” she trails off, her voice soft. She looks down at her plate to avoid his gaze.

“I’m sorry about that, Y/N,” George admits sheepishly. Y/N’s skin tingles when he nudges her leg with his foot under the table. She looks up to meet his gaze, instantly returning his warm smile. “It’s not your fault Umbridge is a toad.”

Y/N laughs, completely entranced by George. “I should have said something. Made up an excuse for you.” She worries her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, waving away her apology. They both just look at each other, the food on their plates long forgotten. Y/N lets her gaze wander to George’s lips again as she thinks about kissing him. She starts to involuntarily inch closer and to her surprise, George starts doing the same thing.

“Uh, Y/N?”

Y/N and George jump apart, startled by the sudden intrusion. Y/N looks over to see Astoria standing next to her, clearly surprised by what she had just witnessed. Y/N feels her cheeks heating up, and she fidgets in her seat.

“Hey, Astoria. What’s up?” Y/N asks, trying to sound casual, like her best friend’s little sister didn’t just catch her about to kiss George in the middle of the Great Hall.

“Daphne is asking for you. She’s throwing up in the dorm bathroom.”

Y/N rolls her eyes with a huff. “Of course, she is, poor girl can’t handle her alcohol.” She stands suddenly, nodding awkwardly at George. “Weasley,” she says curtly. She gives a wayward glance to Astoria before she heads for the exit, trying to walk as quickly as possible without looking like she’s running away.

“And you don’t remember anything?” Y/N questions Adrian as they head up to breakfast on Monday morning. After she fled the Great Hall yesterday morning she’d spent the rest of the day with Daphne going between the bathroom in their dorm and her bed, with Astoria sneaking in food for them. As she sat holding Daphne’s hair back Y/N had a chance to replay the events of Saturday night, and all of the things she had said to Adrian about George became clear to her. She was panicking all night, hoping that he didn’t remember any of what she had said.

Adrian nods. “Not a thing. Last thing I remember is you challenging me to a drinking contest. Everything after that is completely blank. Probably due to the 10 shots we took,” he says with a laugh. “I was so confused when I woke up in the common room.”

Y/N breathes a sigh of relief. She’s barely come to terms with the fact that George Weasley is no longer her mortal enemy, but someone she truly cares deeply for, so she is definitely not ready to share that with her friends.

“Why do you care so much? You confess your love for me or something?” Adrian asks as they enter the Great Hall.

Y/N lets her eyes scan the Gryffindor table, a pink blush forming on her cheeks when she spots George. He looks prim and proper in his school robes and his hair is neat. She bites her lip, imagining what it would be like to fuss up his hair with her hands with their bodies pressed together so tightly that their uniforms wrinkled. When George suddenly makes eye contact with her she looks away, bringing her attention back to Adrian.

“Nothing like that,” she insists, shoving him playfully. “I was just rambling on and on. I sounded like an idiot, most of it didn’t even make sense.”

“What didn’t make sense?” Daphne asks as Y/N and Adrian sit across from her and Marcus.

“The things I rambled on about in Adrian’s ear on Saturday after you two disappeared,” Y/N says with a laugh. She reaches for the orange juice, a small smile appearing on her lips as it reminds her of George.

“Aw you were rambley drunk? How cute. I’m sad I missed it,” Marcus teases.

Y/N throws a grape at him. “If you weren’t so busy sucking face with Daphne, you could have witnessed it.” Marcus and Daphne both blush at that, causing Adrian and Y/N to laugh. “I don’t know why you’re laughing, Pucey. You were cuddly drunk. I ran my hand through your hair, and you were practically mewling.”

Adrian blushes and bats at Y/N’s hand as she pinches his cheek. “Thank god I don’t remember that then.”

Unlike last week, Y/N spends most of her time on Monday and Tuesday trying to get close to George. She heads to meals a tad earlier than her friends, hoping that he’ll join her briefly. She gets to class early, hoping that he may arrive on his own and they can talk. But every time she tries she either doesn’t happen to run into him or he’s too busy messing around with Fred to notice her presence.

“Oof. Sorry,” Y/N grunts as she runs into someone. One of the Ravenclaw Prefects is sick, so Y/N volunteered to spend most of her Tuesday night patrolling the halls of the castle. Patrolling was one of her favorite duties as a Prefect, since it gave her time to just be by herself and think. She had let her mind wander to George, and she was in the middle of quite the raunchy daydream.

“What are you doing? Trying to mow me down?” the person asks with a chuckle.

“George, hey,” she greets airily. Y/N takes a step back so she can look up at him, a dopey smile on her face. “What are you doing out here? Kinda late, innit?”

“Maybe I’m here to see you,” he responds, causing Y/N to look away and blush. “I was serving my detention with Umbridge,” he reminds her, gesturing towards the corridor he had just come down.

She glances at her watch before looking back to him. “And she just let you out now? What did she have you do, polish all those weird cat plates?”

George chuckles. “Writing lines, actually.”

“Must have been enough to fill a book with how late it is,” she jokes as they start to walk together. George fidgets beside her, and she gives him a look. “You alright?”

George hums and absentmindedly brings a hand up to run through his hair. Y/N’s eyes widen when she notices the back of his hand is bleeding, and she grabs it before he has a chance to hide it. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he mumbles, trying to pull his hand away.

Y/N tightens her grip, too focused on his injury to think about how perfect his hand feels in hers. “What is this, George? How did this happen?”

George sighs. “Umbridge had me use her special quill to write my lines.”

Y/N ghosts her finger over the wound, giving George an apologetic look when he winces. As she examines the wound she can make out what is it, the wound in his hand spells out ‘I must not break the rules’ in his messy handwriting. A sudden wave of rage washes over Y/N and she releases George’s hand so she can stomp towards Umbridge’s office.

“Y/N what are you doing?” George asks as he follows, though he’s pretty sure he knows that answer.

“I’m going to go give that toad a piece of my mind. That’s how she punishes people. Torture? That’s mental.”

George catches up to her quickly, and he wraps his fingers around her wrist, pulling her into his chest. He wraps his arms around her shoulders, holding her tightly against him. She breathes in his scent, wanting to just melt into his embrace. But she resists the urge and struggles against it, desperately trying to get out.

“Let me go, George,” she grumbles, wiggling in his grip.

“Absolutely not, Y/N. What good is yelling at her going to do? All that’s going to do is get you in detention as well and I’m not going to let you do that to yourself.”

Y/N wiggles against his grip for a few more moments before she gives up, her anger deflating. She relaxes in George’s arms and buries her face in his chest. She feels lightheaded as she takes slow, deep breaths, enjoying being this close to George. They stand like that for a few minutes, just enjoying being in each other’s presence, only breaking apart when they hear the door to Umbridge’s office open.

“Shit,” George whispers. He releases Y/N from his grip so he can grab her hand, intertwining their fingers. “Quick, follow me.” George leads them down the hallway and through a few different corridors before he stops in front of a tapestry.

“What are you doing?” she asks as the sound of footsteps echoes through the empty space.

George shushes her, and Y/N watches in amazement as he taps his wand to the tapestry, and it swings to the side, revealing a hole in the wall.

“Woah, this is so cool,” she comments as George pulls her in behind him. The tapestry immediately closes behind them, and George waves his wand so the torches that line the walls light up. “How do you know about this place?”

George shrugs, leaning up against the wall. “Fred and I have explored the entire castle. There isn’t a secret passageway or hidden corridor that we haven’t found.”

They stand there in silence while Y/N looks around the small passageway. She can feel George’s eyes on her and she’s doing everything she can to not return his gaze. Her body feels like it’s on fire, the feeling of George’s grip on her shoulders still fresh in her mind.

“You know if you want to spend time alone with me all you have to do is ask,” she teases a moment later, finally looking at George. She’s leaning on the wall opposite him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. She starts to fiddle with a stray string on the bottom hem of her skirt, needing to keep her hands busy to avoid wrapping them around George’s tie to pull him close. “You don’t have to keep pulling me into dark rooms.”

George looks Y/N up and down, a smirk forming on his face. “Is that so? After you practically ran away from me at breakfast on Sunday I didn’t think you’d want to be alone with me.” He sounds confident, but Y/N can tell that there’s an underlying tinge of insecurity in his voice.

Y/N frowns and pushes away from the wall so she can take a small step towards him. “I tried to catch you alone all day yesterday and today,” she says softly. “But every time I tried you were with your stupid brother.”

“Well every time I tried to catch you alone you were with your stupid friends,” he says with a chuckle, copying her frustrated tone. George takes a small step towards her, so there’s only a few feet between them.

“I’m sorry, by the way. For running away from you the other day. Astoria startled me and I panicked,” she pauses, taking another small step forward. They’re standing so close that Y/N can smell him, and her brain goes fuzzy. “I should have stayed,” she admits quietly.

George licks his lips as he takes a final small step forward. They’re now only a few centimeters apart, and he grips Y/N’s hip softly. “What would have happened?” His eyes flick down to Y/N’s lips before meeting hers again. “If you had stayed, what would have happened?”

Y/N can feel her heart pounding in her chest, and her face is warm. “I. I would have.”

But she doesn’t get to finish her sentence. George leans down and presses their lips together, kissing her sweetly as his other hand comes up to rest on her neck. Y/N feels lightheaded as her lips start to move with George’s, her arms winding around his neck. George backs them up as he deepens the kiss, pressing Y/N up against the wall. She moans as her back hits the hard stone, allowing George to lick into her mouth.

“I would have done that,” she finishes once George pulls away, her breathing heavy.

George chuckles before kissing her again briefly. “You sound so fucking hot when you moan,” he teases, kissing her again as her cheeks flush pink.

Y/N returns his kiss eagerly, letting her fingers tangle in the hair at the base of his neck as both his hands come to rest on her hips. Her brain is in overdrive, trying to process everything that’s happening. She wants to commit it all to memory, in case this is the only time it happens. She’s thinking about how good of a kisser he is, and how perfectly their mouths fit together when George pulls away.

“Bet you would sound even hotter moaning my name,” he whispers in her ear, before he starts to trail kisses down Y/N’s neck.

A soft whine leaves Y/N’s lips as she tilts her head back, giving George more room to kiss. She tugs his hair and the groan he lets out against her neck goes right to her core and arousal starts to blossom in her stomach. His grip on her hips tightens as he begins to suck a mark into her neck. “George,” she moans, her eyes fluttering closed.

Y/N can feel George smirk into her neck before he pulls away and reconnects their lips. He pushes their bodies together tighter, shoving her legs apart with one of his own. She instinctively grinds down against it to get relief from her aching pussy, causing both of them to moan lowly.

“Holy fuck, Y/N,” George growls as he breaks their kiss. He looks over her as she continues to grind against his thigh, in awe of how beautiful she is. Her face is flushed red, her lips are swollen from his kisses and breathy moans are falling from her mouth as her hips move back and forth.

Y/N tugs her bottom lip between her teeth to try and contain the noises that are creeping up her throat as she works towards her climax. Her hips move sloppily, giving her clit the perfect amount of friction against George’s muscular thigh. “Fuck,” she breathes and opens her eyes so she can gaze into his, a moan falling from her lips when she sees how dark his eyes are.

George kisses her for a brief moment, his cock starting to harden in his trousers. He craves the feeling of her lips, but the noises coming from her mouth are too intoxicating to cut off. “You look so pretty, darling, getting yourself off on my thigh.”

George’s words only turn Y/N on more and she starts to move her hips faster, desperate for her release. “George,” she moans, tugging on his hair again. “Please, please, George,” she begs.

George presses kisses to Y/N’s jaw as his grip on her hips tightens. He pulls her down harder against his thigh and smirks when she whines loudly. “What do you want darling? Hm?”

“I’m so close,” she gasps. “Please, George. Can I,” her words turn into a moan as George forces her down harder against this thigh again. Y/N can feel her climax approaching and her body feels like it’s on fire. “Please, let me come, George. Please,” she begs breathily.

George’s cock twitches in his trousers and he groans as he realizes what Y/N is begging him for. Permission. “Go on darling, come for me.”

George’s voice is husky, and as soon as the words leave his mouth Y/N’s hips stutter as she reaches her climax, George’s name falling from her mouth. She tugs his hair lightly as she comes, pleasure washing over her like a wave. George rubs her hips and presses open mouthed kisses to her jaw and neck as her hips start to slow down.

“Oh my god,” Y/N pants, resting her forehead against George’s shoulder. Her legs feel like jelly and a moan falls from her mouth when she shifts on George’s thigh and her sensitive clit rubs against her panties.

George laughs lightly and brings a hand up to stroke Y/N’s hair. “That was so fucking hot,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her temple. He removes his leg from between hers but keeps a tight grip on her hip to make sure she’s steady. “Like really fucking hot, Y/N. Holy shit.”

Y/N buries her face in George’s neck, pressing a few light kisses to his skin. “No, it was embarrassing,” she mumbles. She’d never felt the need to ask for permission to come with any of the other people she’d been intimate with, but there was something about George. Y/N felt comfortable with him, she felt safe enough to let her walls down; to be completely vulnerable to him.

“Hey, look at me,” he says softly. George waits for Y/N to pick her head up and look up at him before he continues. “You will never have anything to be embarrassed about with me. Ever.”

Instead of responding, Y/N kisses him desperately and reaches down to palm his hardening erection through his trousers. George groans into the kiss, his hips automatically rolling to meet her movements. Her lips start to kiss across his jaw and down George’s neck, nibbling lightly.

Y/N pauses her kissing so she can lean up and whisper into George’s ear. “Your turn,” she teases. George curses softly as she removes her hand from his crotch, and she places a quick kiss on his lips before she pushes him away slightly. Y/N slowly sinks down to her knees and starts to work at the button of George’s trousers.

“God you are gorgeous,” he says dreamily as he tangles his fingers in her hair.

Y/N can feel the blush creeping up her face as she undoes George’s trousers. She looks up at him as she pulls his trousers and boxers down together just enough to free his cock. Y/N slowly wraps her hand around the base of his cock, a smirk forming on her face when he groans.

George’s grip on her hair tightens as Y/N begins to slowly stroke him. “Merlin that feels good,” George moans, causing Y/N to increase her pace.

She leans forward and takes him into her mouth, her hand continuing to stroke what she can’t fit in her mouth. George is quite well endowed, and Y/N rubs her thighs together as she starts to bob her head, imaging what he’d feel like inside her.

“Such a good girl. Sucking my cock so well,” George praises. His breathing starts to get heavier as Y/N’s tongue starts to swirl around his sensitive head and when she looks up at him he has to look away to avoid coming right then and there. Y/N looks absolutely sinful with her lips wrapped around his cock, and George is sure that image will be imprinted in his brain forever.

George’s grunts echo throughout the passageway as Y/N starts to move faster, wanting George to fill her mouth with his release. She takes him down even further, gagging slightly when the tip of his cock hits the back of her throat. George uses the grip he has on Y/N’s hair to help guide her head, his hips starting to slowly meet her movement.

Y/N hums in approval and pulls her head off of his cock for a moment to catch her breath. She strokes him with her hand for a moment, her thumb circling his sensitive head. “Fuck my mouth George, please,” she begs, before swallowing him down again.

“Such a dirty girl aren’t you Y/N?” he teases as he wraps his hand in her hair, gripping it tightly. “Such a slut for my cock already, hm?” He lets out a groan as he starts to move her head on his cock, his hips meeting each stroke. “Fuck, darling. Your mouth feels amazing,” he moans, starting to fuck her mouth faster. “Good girl,” he praises as she gags around him.

Y/N can’t help but slip her hand under her skirt and into her panties, letting her index and middle finger toy with her clit. George’s cock is heavy against her tongue and his dirty words are sending shivers down her spine and into her core. She’s still sensitive from her previous orgasm, and she moans around George’s cock as drool drips down her chin. She starts to work her clit faster, her second orgasm quickly approaching.

“Getting close, darling,” he grunts. “Gonna shoot my load right into your pretty little mouth.” George watches as Y/N squirms, a wicked grin forming on his mouth. “Are you touching yourself darling?” A shiver runs down his spine and he slams his cock into the back of her throat harder when she hums around him. “Such a dirty little girl you are, Y/N.” His tone is patronizing, and it only turns Y/N on more. “Love having my cock in your mouth that much, hm?”

Y/N whines around his cock, her hips moving in time with her finger’s movements on her clit. She brings her free hand up under her shirt and bra so she can massage her breast, her fingers pinching her nipple. Her climax is building rapidly, and Y/N looks up at George her eyes full of arousal and desperation.

George bites his lip as he looks down at Y/N, knowing exactly what she needs. His strokes become shallow as his own orgasm approaches, a low moan falling from his lips. “Go on, darling. Be a good girl and come for me.”

Y/N’s whole-body shakes as she comes, her second orgasm even stronger than the first. Her lips clamp down around George’ cock even tighter, bringing him to his climax as well. He pulls her hair as he empties himself into Y/N’s mouth, her name spilling from his mouth in hard pants. She continues to toy with her clit lightly as aftershocks of pleasure continue to roll through her body.

George loosens his grip on her hair as he slowly pulls out, his mouth running dry as saliva and some of his cum dribble down Y/N’s chin. He watches as she swallows his release, his cock twitching at the sight. He tucks his cock back into his trousers, wincing as the head brushes up against the fabric. Y/N looks up at him as she wipes the drool from her chin, looking far too innocent after what just happened. Her lips are red and swollen, almost begging for him to kiss her.

He releases her hair and helps Y/N to her feet. His arms wrap around her waist and he brings their lips together. They kiss slowly and messily, both of them too tired to care. George licks into her mouth, not caring that he can taste himself on her tongue. They stand there kissing for a few minutes, only breaking apart when the need for air becomes too much.

“You think the coast is clear?” Y/N asks with a giggle, her voice hoarse.

George chuckles and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I certainly hope so, because I’m absolutely knackered and if I have to spend another minute in here with you after what just happened I’m not going to be able to control myself.”

Wednesday morning arrives far too quickly for Y/N’s liking. She had fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, but when Daphne starts to shake her awake it feels like she hadn’t even slept at all.

“Five more minutes, mum, “ she groans. Her throat feels raw and Y/N can’t help but blush as the memories of last night run through her mind. She had wanted to confess everything to George as they snuck out of the passageway, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. As they stepped out into the empty hallway the haze of sexual tension around them broke, and when George headed off back to his dorm with nothing more than a wink and a kiss on the cheek Y/N’s stomach sank.

Y/N had felt nothing but pure joy after her and George’s activities and her heart felt as if it would beat out of her chest. She knew that she was in love with him, and after he had been so tender with her she was sure that he returned her feelings. But after he left her behind so quickly, she couldn’t help but think it had all been in her head.

“Five more minutes will turn to 10, which will turn into you missing breakfast. And you know how you get when you’re hungry, so get your ass out of bed,” Daphne scolds lightly.

Y/N groans but rolls out of bed, her heart heavy and her knees aching.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” Daphne whispers to Y/N as they enter the Great Hall, gesturing towards Fred and George.

Y/N allows herself to look quickly, her heart rate increasing as her eyes pass over George. Memories of last night swim to the surface, and she swallows hard, willing them away. The twins have their heads together and they’re talking feverishly, clearly up to something. “Dunno really,” she answers, tearing her gaze away. “Probably planning their next prank or something.” Y/N and Daphne sit down with Adrian and Marcus and she grabs some toast, not really feeling up to eating.

“So, what are you gonna do?” Daphne asks as they start to eat.

Y/N gives her a look. “What am I gonna do about what?”

Daphne rolls her eyes. “Come one, it’s been what, two weeks since the twins have done something to you? They’ve gotta be over there cooking up some grand scheme against you.”

Y/N goes to respond, but she suddenly feels sick as George’s actions over the past few days start to make sense. He wasn’t in love with her, he was trying to embarrass her? Use her? Get information on her for him and Fred to use against her? She wasn’t exactly sure, but her heart sinks into her stomach. Whatever it was it couldn’t be good.

“I think I’m gonna head to Potions early,” she says suddenly, standing up. Adrian, Marcus and Daphne give her a look.

“You haven’t even eaten anything,” Adrian says, trying to pull her back down.

She bats his hand away and gathers her bag. “I’m not really that hungry. I’ll see you guys later.”

Without another word she’s heading out of the Great Hall, her friends and George all casting her back worried glances.

Y/N spends all day ignoring George despite his efforts to get her to pay attention to him. He spends all of Potions throwing rolled up pieces of parchment at her back, he tries to pull faces at her all during lunch and he spends most of charms slipping her notes. It had taken all of her willpower not to let him break her down. She’s so desperately in love with him that she’s almost willing to let him break her heart just so she can be close to him again.

“Finally, I’ve been looking for you all evening.”

Y/N doesn’t look up from her Herbology assignment as George takes a seat across from her. Her friends had been giving her worried glances all day, so after a quick dinner she tucked herself away in a corner of the library to avoid the confrontation she’s sure she’d get in the common room. She had figured she’d be safe from George as well, since Y/N is sure she’s never seen him, or Fred enter the library in the seven years they’ve been at school.

“What’s going on with you?” George asks softly when she doesn’t say anything. He’d been looking forward to seeing Y/N in the morning, and after her weird behavior at breakfast he had tried everything to get her attention.

Y/N glances at George quickly before she turns back to her assignment. “I could say the same to you,” she says coldly. When George doesn’t say anything Y/N sighs and puts her quill down, finally looking at George fully. “What were you and Fred talking about this morning? During breakfast.”

George taps his fingers against the table, his eyes starting deeply into Y/N’s. “He was asking me why I got back from my detention so late last night.” His cheeks are flushed pink and Y/N bites her lip to keep from smiling.

“What did you tell him? Did you tell him how easy I was? How desperate I was for you? How I touched myself? That I asked you for permission to finish?” she sneers, suddenly filled with rage.

George’s jaw practically drops to the table, his eyes widening in shock. “What? Why would I say any of that to him?” George asks, watching as Y/N starts to gather up her things.

“Because last night was just some big joke to you, wasn’t it?” she asks, as if the answer is obvious. “You don’t have feelings for me, you were just trying to get me into bed so you could have blackmail material or something. And I fell for it. Because I’m a big dumb idiot who is too in love to realize when she’s being played.”

Before George can even process what Y/N has just said she’s gone, tears streaming down her face and her heart broken in her chest.

“What’s wrong Y/N?” Daphne asks, taking a seat on the edge of her bed.

She isn’t completely surprised that Daphne had come to find her. When Y/N returned from the library, she was full on crying. She had ignored her friend’s attempts to talk to her and stormed right to her dorm room so she could crawl into her bed and sob. Daphne starts to stroke her hair, and Y/N wipes away some of her tears.

“I’m in love with George Weasley,” Y/N mumbles into her pillow.

Daphne’s hand pauses. “Come again?”

“I’m in love with George Weasley,” Y/N huffs, turning over so she’s facing Daphne. Her whole-body tenses, waiting for Daphne to laugh or make some kind of snide comment. But it doesn’t happen. Instead Daphne starts to stroke her hair again as she wipes away some of her tears.

“Honestly that’d make me cry as well,” she says with a laugh, trying to get Y/N to smile. When it works and Y/N cracks a small smile Daphne continues. “So, what happened? Did he say something rude? Because if he did I swear to you I’ll have Adrian and Marcus break into Gryffindor tower and beat him up.”

Y/N can’t help but let out a quiet laugh. She sits up in bed, wiping away the last few tears. “I ran into him last night when I was doing my rounds. And Umbridge almost caught us so we ran and hid in this weird secret passageway and um,” she pauses, swallowing thickly. “We kissed. And fooled around a little. Or a lot.”

“And that’s why you’re crying? Was it bad? Did you fake your orgasm?” Daphne teases.

Y/N rolls her eyes as a blush starts to form on her cheeks. “No, that’s not it. It was quite enjoyable I’ll have you know,” she says playfully, shoving Daphne’s shoulder lightly. “It was what happened afterward.”

“He said something stupid, didn’t he? My offer still stands, I will have Adrian and Marcus go beat him up,” Daphne says her tone serious.

“He didn’t really say anything,” Y/N explains, choosing to ignore Daphne’s threats for now. “But you said it yourself this morning at breakfast. He was talking with Fred, probably planning some prank on me.” Y/N pauses to swallow the lump in her throat and blink away the tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks. “It was all probably just some prank or set up or blackmail or something. I mean why would he wanna be with me,” she says lamely, looking down at her hands.

Daphne scoffs and puts her finger under Y/N’s chin, forcing her to return her gaze. “If George Weasley doesn’t want to be with you then he is a big fat idiot. Y/N you are amazing. And beautiful and smart and way too nice for your own good. You may have questionable taste in men, but I’ve been snogging Marcus since third year so I’m not really one to judge.”

Y/N laughs and pulls Daphne into a hug. Her heart still aches for George, but she feels a tiny bit better knowing that she has Daphne on her side.

Despite the fact that Y/N has been ignoring George all day, she finds herself heading to the Room of Requirement on Wednesday evening for a DA meeting. There are nervous butterflies in her stomach as she approaches but she doesn’t turn back. The DA is one of the only good things she’s had going on this year, and she’ll be damned if she lets George Weasley ruin that for her. Y/N had felt his eyes on her all day, and she hates to admit that it made her feel lightheaded.

She stops outside of the room of requirement to collect herself. Y/N takes a few deep breaths, trying to clear the thoughts of George from her mind. She’s semi-successful and she holds her head high as she throws the door open and steps inside.

“What the fuck?” she says, her eyes wandering around the room as the door shuts behind her. Y/N had certainly not been expecting the scene around her when she walked in. The room is dimly lit, with most of the lighting coming from candles that are floating around the room. There’s no furniture or practice dummies in sight, and the only other person in the room is George. He’s standing smack in the middle of the room watching her, a small smile on his face.

“I couldn’t think of any other way to get you alone,” he says after a moment, reaching a hand out towards Y/N. “So, I had Hermione send an alert out to your Galleon and hoped that you would show up.”

Y/N walks further into the room cautiously, still unsure as to what exactly is going on. She stands a few feet away from George, resisting the urge to take his hand and fall into his chest. “Okay but why?.” She pauses, her eyes scanning the room again. “If this is some kind of elaborate set up and Fred is about to jump out of somewhere I swear to Merlin George I will kill you.”

George chuckles and shakes his head, taking a step towards Y/N. When she doesn’t flinch, he takes another one. “I promise you; Y/N. Fred is nowhere near here.” He bites his lip, looking at Y/N closely. “This is just me, desperately trying to fix whatever mess I got us into.” When she doesn’t say anything George continues, needing to fill the awkward silence of the room. “Tuesday night was incredible. Best night of my life, hands down. I thought, I thought things would be different with us, afterwards. But then you didn’t even look at me all day yesterday and last night in the library that stuff you said,” he cuts himself off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I clearly did something wrong, but I’ve spent the past 24 hours thinking about everything I did, and I can’t seem to figure it out.”

“You didn’t say anything,” she says quietly after she lets George’s words soak in. When George raises his eyebrow in confusion she sighs. “On Tuesday, after everything that happened,” she clears her throat, trying to will the blush on her cheeks away. “When we were leaving you didn’t say anything. You just kind of left. I thought that it was just a one-time thing, that it didn’t mean the same to you as it did to me,” she admits quietly.

Y/N lets her eyes wander around the room, needing to look anywhere except for George’s face. Y/N likes to keep walls up around herself. She makes exceptions for her friends and her parents, the people she loves, but she keeps them up around others. She doesn’t like to show weakness, she doesn’t want to give people the opportunity to hurt her. On Tuesday Y/N had let all of those walls crumble to the ground the second George had kissed her and it felt incredible. She felt like she could truly be herself around him, and as much as she wishes she could build those walls up around her again it’s too late. Y/N has no choice but to stand here in this room and let George in.

“And then I just got all in my head,” she continues a moment later, finally letting herself look at George. Her heart is fluttering, and she can’t help but notice how good he looks. “When I went to breakfast that morning and you were whispering with Fred it looked like you guys were plotting something, like a prank or something. And it made me think that Tuesday was just some stupid prank. That you were gonna use the things I said against me, to embarrass me or something,” she mutters.

“Darling,” George starts, taking the last few steps to close the distance between them. He cups her cheek with one hand while the other reaches for one of hers. Y/N lets him grab her hand, and he intertwines their fingers. “I should have said something that night. There was so many things I wanted to say. But I didn’t want to overwhelm you. After that night we spent in detention I started to feel differently towards you. I knew you felt something too, but I wasn’t sure if you had realized it yet or not. So, when we left the passageway that night I wanted to give you time, to process everything.”

“I feel like such an idiot,” Y/N admits with a small smile. “I should have just said something instead of letting myself overthink it. I don’t like letting people in. But for some reason when I’m around you I can’t help but let you in. That night in detention I told you things not even Daphne knows. And then Tuesday, some of the things I said, I did,” she cuts herself off, a shiver running down her spine. “I’ve never let anyone see that side of me before and yet a few kisses from you had me blubbering like an idiot.”

“Blubbering like a wicked sexy idiot, darling,” George teases with a chuckle. He leans down and kisses her briefly. “I’m sorry, for not being clearer with my intentions.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but there’s a warm smile on her face. “And what are those intentions?”

Her eyes flutter closed as George kisses her deeply, both of his hands landing on her bum, giving it a tight squeeze. She moans into the kiss and lets George’s tongue in to explore her mouth. She wraps her arms around George’s neck and pulls him flush to her body. George pulls away suddenly, with Y/N trying to chase his mouth.

George chuckles when she pouts at him. “To answer your question, darling. First, I’m going to fuck you into the mattress over there like the dirty little girl you are.” George pauses, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s lips as a shiver runs down her spine. “And then I’m going to hold you close and whisper how much I love you into your ear.”

Y/N pulls George’s face down and presses their lips together hotly, kissing him desperately. She jumps up, her legs wrapping around his waist and his hands gripping her bum tightly. George carries her over to the bed that had appeared at some point in the past few minutes and throws her down on it. He loosens his tie and throws it off over his head and starts to work on the buttons of his shirt. Y/N watches his fingers move, practically drooling as his pale chest becomes more and more exposed to her.

“What are you waiting for? Permission,” George teases, his voice gravelly and his eyes dark. “Get naked,” he demands a moment later when she still doesn’t move. “Let me see all of you.”

George’s voice causes goosebumps to appear all over Y/N’s body and her core starts to ache. She can already feel herself getting wet, and the way George is looking at her as she rids herself of her clothes is only making it worse.

In a matter of moments, they’re both naked, and Y/N can feel her skin flushing under George’s gaze. He’s standing by the edge of the bed, slowly stroking himself as his eyes run over her naked body. Her body is aching for his touch, and she squirms under his intense gaze. “Please, George,” she moans, one of her hands coming up to toy with her breasts.

In an instant George is on top of her, kissing her messily as his hands touch every inch of skin they can. He bats away the hand that’s palming her breast so he can take over, his fingers starting to toy with her sensitive nipple. Y/N moans into George’s mouth, arching her back to press herself up into him harder. George practically growls at her actions and his other hand grabs her left thigh, forcing her legs apart.

“What do you want, darling?” he asks hotly, his lips trailing kisses down her neck. “My fingers?” He releases her thigh and starts to ghost his fingers up her it towards her folds. “My mouth?” He latches onto her neck and starts to lightly suck, causing a sinful whine to leave her lips.

Y/N tangles her fingers in George’s hair, tugging lightly as she squirms under his touch. “Both, please,” she begs, her breath coming out in hard pants. George’s fingers have finally reached her core, and his index finger has started to slowly circle her clit.

“Both, hm? What a needy little girl you’re being, Y/N,” he chides, his mouth continuing to trail kisses down her neck and over her chest. “But how can I say no? Not when you’re being such a good girl and asking so nicely.”

Y/N moans. George’s thumb has started to rub soft circles on her clit while his mouth wraps around her breast, sucking her nipple lightly. When George had called her a good girl at the beginning of term it had filled her with rage, but now as he slowly pushes his index finger inside of her tight walls she thinks she could come just from him calling her that alone.

“Fuck, George,” she whines, clenching around his finger as he curls it inside of her. She can feel his smirk as he kisses down her stomach. Her hips start to move off of the bed as he starts to slowly fuck her with his finger. His free hand flies to her hip and pins it down against the bed.

“Don’t be so impatient, darling. I’m going to take my time with you,” he scolds. He pulls his finger out slowly, and when he pushes it back in another has joined it, causing Y/N to gasp. “You sound so pretty, darling. Such pretty noises,” he praises.

George moves down the bed as his lips ghost over her hip so he can position himself better for what’s about to happen. He stops his movements on her pussy suddenly, causing Y/N to whine at the loss. He grabs her thighs and pushes them farther apart, so she’s spread open for him. “Such a pretty pussy you have, darling,” he groans, his eyes gazing over her dripping folds. Y/N tries to shut her legs, but George’s grip tightens on her thighs, keeping them open. “Don’t be shy, darling,” he teases.

Y/N is writhing in George’s grasp, one hand is toying with her nipples while the other grips the bed sheets. “George, please,” she begs again, needing him to touch her. George chuckles and suddenly his mouth is on her, lightly sucking on her clit. “Oh fuck,” she shouts, her hand leaving her breast to tangle in George’s hair.

George’s tongue starts to tease Y/N’s clit, wrapping around the bud slowly before pulling away and coming to lightly flick at it. He wraps his arm around her left thigh as she begins to move her hips, forcing her back down against the bed. “Gonna need to get some rope to tie you up, keep you nice and open for me,” he murmurs before putting his mouth back on her aching core.

“Holy fuck, George,” Y/N moans as he suddenly plunges two fingers into her heat. She can’t help the sounds that are coming out of her mouth as George pleasures her, images of George tying her up floating in her mind. George hums in laughter as his fingers curl and brush up against Y/N’s sweet spot, causing her to moan again.

Y/N can feel her orgasm approaching, can feel the arousal building in her stomach. She wiggles her hips, trying to move away from George, and a squeal falls from her mouth when he pulls her even closer to his face. She grips his hair tightly and her toes curl as her orgasm approaches. Y/N yanks the sheets hard, her mouth opening and shutting unable to form a coherent thought due to George’s relentless pleasure.

“George please,” she sobs, her eyes screwing shut from the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through her body. Her legs are shaking as George licks at her core, his fingers hitting the spot inside her that drives her crazy with every thrust. “I need you. I need you to, George, please,” she begs. She’s teetering on the edge of her release, just needing that one final push that only George can provide.

“Need me to what, darling?” he asks coyly as he pulls his face away from her pussy. His thumb takes over the assault on her clit his tongue had been doing before, starting to rub it in hard circles.

“Please,” she begs again, tears starting to leak out the side of her eyes. Y/N has never been this turned on in her life. Her body is trembling, her need for release overwhelming every part of her.

George presses a few kisses to the hot skin on the inside of her thigh to hide his smile. Y/N looks absolutely ethereal as she wriggles in his grasp, begging him to let her come. Her hair is splayed out on the pillow behind her, and her neck looks like it’s begging to be bit. Her whole body is flushed, and a sheen of sweat has appeared over her skin.

“You are absolutely gorgeous, Y/N,” he compliments as he situates himself on top of her again. He leans on his forearm and presses their lips together briefly. “Such a good girl, darling. Go on be a good girl, come for me.”

George kisses her again as she comes, groaning as her walls tighten around his fingers. Y/N’s whole-body shakes as she comes, and George continues to slowly rub her clit as she comes down from her high. With one final curl of his fingers he removes them from her heat.

“You are a goddess,” he murmurs against her lips before he pulls away.

Y/N opens her eyes, smiling up at George. “And you’re a bloody fucking tease.”

George laughs and rolls onto his back, his arm winding around Y/N’s waist to pull her on top of him. Y/N giggles in delight, pressing their lips together in a heated kiss. She lets her hand trail along his chest as they kiss, pausing as she reaches his groin. “Now see if I really was a good girl,” she mocks her fingertips dancing on the skin just above the base of his cock. “I’d touch you but.” She sighs and brings her hand back up to rest on George’s chest. “I’m feeling kinda naughty.”

“Bold tactic for a girl who was just begging me to let her come a few seconds ago,” George responds playfully, leaning up to press their lips together again. Y/N squeals when George pulls her fully on top of him so she’s straddling his waist. “I know I said I was gonna fuck you into the mattress but,” he says with a sigh when he breaks their kiss. “I don’t know if naughty girls deserve my cock.”

Despite the fact that she had just come a few seconds ago, Y/N’s pussy is aching again. She pouts down at George, rolling her hips. A satisfied smirk appears on her face when he groans. “What if I promise to be a good girl?”

George rolls them over so she’s underneath him. “I think I can make an exception.” Y/N laughs as George kisses her and winds her legs around his waist. George lines himself up with her entrance, breaking their kiss so he can look at her. “Ready?” When Y/N nods George pushes his hips forward and slowly enters Y/N.

“Oh my god, George,” she gasps as her hands come up to grip his shoulders. George doesn’t stop until his hips are flush against Y/N’s bum.

“Fucking hell you’re tight, Y/N,” he groans, burying his face in her neck. He lets out another groan as Y/N’s walls clench around him.

“Fuck me George, please,” she demands, squeezing his shoulders.

George chuckles into her neck and pulls out of her halfway before he slams back in, starting to slowly fuck her. “Since you asked so nicely,” he teases, pressing an open mouth kiss to her jaw.

For a few minutes all the noise that can be heard is Y/N and George’s combined moans as well as skin slapping on skin. George grabs Y/N’s leg and throws it over his shoulder so he can fuck into her deeper and the head of his cock is now rubbing her sweet spot with every thrust.

“Oh fuck,” Y/N moans, scratching her nails down George’s back. “Feels so good, George. ‘M already close.”

“Fuck me too,” he growls, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “You feel so fucking good, darling.” He presses a few kisses into the skin below her ear. “Go on, darling. Come for me when you’re ready. Didn’t even need to touch your little clit, did I? Such a good girl, coming from just my cock.”

George’s words tip Y/N over the edge and she throws her head back, George’s name falling from her mouth. Her walls tighten and twitch around George, causing him to reach his climax as well. He empties himself inside of Y/N, his hips slowly rolling into her to help them both come down from their highs.

Once George’s cock has stopped twitching and Y/N’s breathing starts to slow down, George carefully pulls out of her and collapses on the bed next to her. George opens up his arm and Y/N rolls into his side, burying her face in the crook of his neck. She peppers soft kisses to the sweaty skin as George starts to rub her back.

“It’s not fair, you know,” George says as Y/N trails a few kisses up his neck and across his jaw.

Y/N pecks his lips softly. “What’s not fair?” she asks with a chuckle.

George pouts at her and she kisses him briefly again. “Every time we get intimate you get to come twice, and I only get to come once. That’s totally not fair.”

Y/N laughs and buries her face in George’s neck again. “Well maybe if you were a good boy I’d let you come more than once,” she teases.

George’s fingers dig into Y/N’s side as he holds her in place, tickling her mercilessly. Y/N shrieks with laughter, desperately trying to wiggle away from George’s grasp. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she laughs, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. George tickles her for another moment before he stops, one of his hands resting on the small of Y/N’s back and the other grabs hers.

“I love you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Y/N looks up at him and presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “I love you too.”

The next morning as Y/N drags George over to the Slytherin table for breakfast she can hear Ginny shouting at Ron.

“I told you, you absolute numpty! You owe me a Galleon!”

#George weasley #george weasley smut #George Weasley imagine #George Weasley fic #george weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #george weasley x y/n #george weasley fanfic #George Weasley fanfiction #gw #golden

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thatfanficstuff · 3 years

Text

Summer Wedding - Stucky

Grouping - Stucky x Reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. smut including unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), public teasing, oral sex (m receiving), spit roasting, minor knife play and other stuff I'm sure I forgot.

A/N: This is the first fic I'm posting for my summer celebration and it was actually written for boxofbonesfic's Hot Girl Summer Challenge. Not as um...descriptive as I'd intended on making it but I like it. Enjoy.

Word count: 3544

***

The wedding was beautiful, even you had to admit that. It was a relatively simple affair as these things went, though you were certain your uncle had spent several thousands on the flowers that seemed to dot every surface of the grounds of his estate. At least he’d kept your cousin from having a large church wedding this time. There was only so many times that was acceptable anyway, right?

A sigh slid from your lips and you sipped at your drink. You never should have come to this wedding. You weren’t in the mood for it. No, you should have made up an excuse about being sick and stayed home. The only reason you hadn’t was the fact you had no desire to listen to your mother bitch at you for the next six months for missing a family event. Just the thought had you rolling your eyes.

You’d actually been looking forward to the wedding until last week. That’s when you discovered your boyfriends were going on a mission and would not be back in time to accompany you. Not only did you hate going to weddings alone, but you’d already gone through the ordeal of explaining to your aunt why you need a plus two instead of a plus one. And she certainly hadn’t kept that information to herself. Half the damn day had been spent answering questions about your relationship from nosy family members.

Speaking of…Your cousin Natalie sat down in one of the empty chairs that flanked you. She smirked and sipped at her champagne. “So, where are your dates, Y/N?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes again. Too much more of that and you’d have a raging migraine. Instead, you kept your gaze on the dance floor and took another sip of your drink. “They had to work.”

“I just find it interesting that you all but beg mother for an extra seat and here they both are. Empty.” She eyed you, waiting for a reaction you had no intention of giving her. “I mean, why lie? It’s kind of pathetic.”

You finally turned your head to her. “Shouldn’t you be doing something wedding-ish? You are the maid of honor, aren’t you? Oh, that’s right, you aren’t in the wedding party, are you?” You sucked a breath through your teeth in mock sympathy. “Sorry.”

There was certain to be a reason why Natalie wasn’t part of her only sisters third wedding, but you didn’t care beyond the fact it was sure to be a sore spot. Frankly, Natalie had always been a bitch, even when you were children. Though, unlucky in the marriage department, her sister Sally had always been your preferred cousin. Maybe Sally had finally gotten tired of dealing with her sister’s shit.

Natalie narrowed her eyes and leaned toward you. “I don’t believe you could get one man to put up with you, let alone two. No one does. We actually had a pool going over whether either of them would show up. And if they did, whether they’d leave with you since you’d probably paid them to be here. I mean, most people just make up one boyfriend. Two really takes the cake. You never could stand not being the center of attention.”

The irony wasn’t lost you that most of your family had no idea you worked with the Avengers. Nor had you mentioned the names of those two boyfriends of yours. Real attention seeker you were. You chanced a glance at your phone to check the time. You had at least another hour before you could leave without a lecture from your mother. You also had zero messages from your boys. Hopefully, that meant they were taking care of business and would be home soon.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” your cousin started whisper yelling from beside you as she froze in her chair. Her eyes were wide and slightly crazed.

Your brow furrowed. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Even as you waited for an answer, your trained ear picked up murmurs beginning amongst the other guests.

When you went to look over your shoulder, Natalie gripped your hand. “Don’t turn around,” she said through clenched teeth. When you went to do it anyway, she snapped again. “Don’t. They’ll see you staring.”

“Who?” Your tone was clipped as irritation crawled through you.

“Steve Rogers and James Barnes just walked in,” she hissed, her gaze locked on them. So apparently she was allowed to stare but you weren’t. By this point, everyone else would be staring as well. The boys were used to it.

You snatched your hand away from your cousin and spun in your seat. As soon as you saw them, a smile covered your face. They had been so certain they wouldn’t be back in time. You knew they’d pushed themselves to be here for you. You ran your gaze over them, taking in the rare sight of them in suits. Even though you’d helped them pick them out, you still licked your lips at the sight.

Steve wore a beautiful bright blue suit that you knew brought out his eyes even though they were currently hidden behind sunglasses. Buck’s suit looked light blue but it was actually a thin blue pin stripe. Both of them looked incredible as always, but you always got a little thrill seeing them dressed up. Of course, that feeling was mutual.

They hadn’t seen you yet, but they were scanning the crowd as they moved across the vast grounds of your uncle’s estate. When your uncle moved to greet them, you stood as well.

Natalie grabbed at your arm. “What are you doing? You’re going to embarrass me.”

Yeah, she didn’t need any help with that. You shook her off and started toward your men. Both of them immediately locked onto your presence and wide smiles greeted you. Your uncle got to them before you could. Steve shifted his attention to speak with him, but Buck’s attention was 100% on you. His gaze trailed over you from head to toe and his eyes darkened.

“We’re extremely honored that you’re here. How did you hear about the wedding?” you heard your uncle ask. He was one of the politer members of your family.

“They’re with me, Uncle Frank,” you said as soon as you were close enough to be heard without raising your voice. “Sorry they’re late. They were working.”

Frank turned to you, his mouth slightly agape and his brows lifted. “These are the dates Margie wouldn’t stop going on about?” Margie was his wife and the aunt you had to beg for the extra seat.

You hummed in agreement.

“Well, I certainly hope so or this is going to turn awkward in a moment,” Bucky said with a lopsided grin. He opened his arms in invitation and you stepped into them. “Missed you, doll.”

You nuzzled against his chest briefly, careful not to transfer your makeup to his shirt. “I missed you, too. So much. I’m glad you’re home.”

There was a tug on your arm and you were pulled into Steve’s embrace. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, soldier.” You turned to look at your uncle who was still staring in stunned silence. “Steve, Bucky, this is my Uncle Frank. Father of the bride.”

Both of your boys shook his hand and thanked him for allowing them to come. He hurried back to his table, undoubtedly to announce this strange turn of events. You fell into step with your boyfriends, taking their hands in yours while you walked in the middle. You led them over to your table to find Natalie still in Bucky’s seat.

“Natalie,” you said to get her attention. When she continued to gape at the two men you said her name again.

She smiled at you as if you were her favorite person in the world certain there was an introduction in her future. “Yes, cousin?”

“You’re in his seat.”

She blinked at you for a second before her face twisted in anger. She scrambled from the chair and stormed back to her table with a toss of her head. Steve and Buck chuckled as they took their seats on either side of you. They slid their chairs as close to you as they could get. “Are you two hungry? We already had dinner but I could find you something.”

Bucky squeezed your thigh. “We ate. Don’t worry about us, sweetheart.”

“I’m glad you two made it,” your mother’s voice caught your attention and you turned to find her standing next to Steve. He stood to greet her and you leaned against Bucky, knowing he wouldn’t care to do the same. “If I had to listen to one more person say she made you up I was going to scream,” she admitted as she hugged Steve. That earned another low chuckle from Bucky.

“Mrs. Y/L/N, it’s good to see you again,” Steve said, managing to sound sincere. Not that he disliked your mother, but they’d just returned from a mission. All they wanted to do was stay home for a couple of days and destress. But they’d come here for you and they would be on their best behavior.

“We won’t be staying long, mom. They just got home,” you informed her and braced yourself for an argument.

Instead, she nodded. “Of course, sweetheart. Just make sure to introduce them to Sally before you leave.”

You groaned. “Can’t I just do it at her next wedding?”

“Y/N!” she snapped but you caught the twitch at the corner of her lips.

Bucky snorted a laugh beside you while Steve shot you a chastising look. You smiled. “I will, momma.”

She left and Bucky turned to speak in your ear as Steve sat back down. “We don’t have to leave, baby girl.” The nickname shot a thrill up your spine. “I love weddings. The food. The dancing. The clothes. Like this little number you have on. I really love this dress, doll.” You wore a white sundress with tiny blue flowers on it to match their suits that fell a few inches above your knees. It was the first time either of them had seen it.

Steve’s arm settled across the back of your chair and his fingers played with your hair. “Yeah, that dress is something special. It might be a bit too short, though,” he said without glancing at you. Instead, he seemed to be keeping an eye on the crowd around you.

“It’s not too short.” You loved the dress and thought it was perfect.

“Yeah, Stevie. If anything, it’s not short enough.” Bucky’s fingers dragged your dress up your thigh, bunching it up in his hand as he went.

“What are you doing, Barnes?” you hissed.

“I told you I missed you, doll. I want to show you how much.”

You placed a hand on his, stopping his movement. “You can’t be serious.”

“Of course, we are. We talked about it all the way home,” Steve answered. He lowered his mouth to speak in your ear. “Talked about how we wanted to please you in front of everyone. With everyone watching because you know their eyes are glued to our table trying to figure out how we managed to land a beautiful gal like you.”

You snorted a laugh that cut off in a gasp as Bucky pulled your dress further up your thigh. “I don’t think that’s what they’re thinking, Steve.”

Bucky kissed the patch of skin behind your ear. “How come he gets Steve and I got Barnes?”

“He’s not the one actively trying to feel me up at my cousin’s wedding.” Your eyes slipped closed as his fingers brushed your inner thigh. Sweat beaded your skin and you wondered if you could blame it on the heat even though it was ten degrees cooler than it had been earlier.

“But it was all his idea,” Buck whispered.

Your eyes flew open to shoot a glare at the blond’s head. “Steven Grant Rogers, What would your mother say?”

Buck laughed, drawing the attention of some of the few people that weren’t already staring. “She’d probably say, ‘good going, Stevie’. She would have loved you.”

“Would—” All ability to finish your sentence or to have a rational thought fled from you when he pushed your panties aside and ran his fingers through your folds. Fuck.

“She’s already soaking wet for us, Steve. Such a good girl,” Bucky cooed.

Steve’s hand fisted on the back of your chair as he glanced around again. “I was wrong. I don’t have the patience for this. I need to be buried in her.” He slid his sunglasses off and put them in the inside pocket of his jacket. He turned to face you, blue eyes burning into you. “You have exactly two minutes to find us someplace private or we’re going to finger fuck you right here until you scream. Your choice, princess.”

In less than a minute, you’d sent a text on your phone and jumped to your feet. Taking their hands in yours, you dragged them toward the house. You pulled them through the large home until you reached a familiar door on the main level. Opening it, you shoved the super soldiers inside. You locked the door behind you and turned to find them already loosening their ties.

“We don’t have time for that,” you argued with a wave of your hands. “I told Uncle Frank we were borrowing his office for an important phone call. We have twenty minutes tops.”

Bucky groaned. “I wanted to take my time with you. I missed you,” he nearly whined.

The corner of your mouth kicked up. “We can take all the time you want later, baby. Right now, just fuck me.” That had him groaning again, an entirely different sound this time.

Steve, however, wasn’t wasting any time. He grabbed a cushion from the couch and tossed it on the floor. “All fours, princess.” He was already undoing his belt by the time you dropped to your knees. He moved behind you and pushed your dress up to give himself a clear view of your ass. He ran his hand over it before giving you a light swat. The mild sting was still enough to have you shifting.

“These have got to go,” he said tugging on the side of your panties. “Buck?”

You glanced up to see Bucky grin as he pulled out a knife and handed it to Steve. He traced your spine with the back of the blade causing you to hiss and arch your back. The sensation only doubled when he moved from cloth to bare skin. The cold steel on your flesh sent tremors through you but you weren’t scared. Far from it. “I think she likes that, Stevie,” Bucky said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “We’ll have to remember that.”

Steve merely hummed before slicing through both sides of your panties and pulling them off as he handed the knife back to his friend. His hand immediately cupped you and his fingers dipped into your soaking wet folds. “Christ, Y/N. I hope you’re ready for me, baby.”

The head of his cock nudged your entrance as if asking for permission but that only lasted a moment. A second later, Steve surged forward filling you with his length. You moaned at the familiar sensation and clawed at the carpet. He paused, giving you time to adjust then he was thrusting into you in long, slow strokes. “Don’t tease,” you ordered.

Steve laughed and increased his speed. When you groaned, Bucky was there rubbing the tip of his cock across your lips. You opened your mouth and sucked at him greedily, needing to taste him while Steve railed you from behind. Only when you had both of them inside of you did you feel complete. Whole. Whatever the fuck was wrong with you, you hoped there was no cure. You would gladly die like this.

The feeling of both of them moving in and out had a perfectly sinful, wanton moan coming from you. The vibration ran along the length of Bucky’s cock and he grunted. His fingers tightened their hold in your hair and his speed increased. Steve mirrored his pace and it didn’t take long for the office to fill with lurid grunts and the sweaty, sweet smell of sex.

Soon, you were so lost in sensation you became little more than a vessel for them to use as you climbed to your peak. Their rhythm stuttered and you knew they were close. You clenched your walls around Steve and were rewarded with a hiss and his grip on your hips tightening. At the same time, you sucked harder on Bucky and ran your tongue along the underside of his cock. “Fuck,” he bit out. “I’m close. Cum, baby girl. Come on.”

Steve’s fingers found your clit. Two seconds later you were screaming around the cock in your mouth as your cunt clutched greedily at the one in your pussy. Fuck. Bucky came next, his load shooting into your mouth and down your throat. As you swallowed his offering, Steve filled you with his cum. You felt it leak around him and drip to the floor.

They pulled out of you at the same time and you collapsed to your side. “Holy shit,” you said between pants causing your boys to laugh.

“Holy shit’s right. Damn,” Bucky agreed. Your eyes followed his movements as he tucked himself back into his pants and put himself to rights. Before you could turn to Steve, you felt fabric between your legs cleaning you up.

A glance showed him wiping away his cum with the remnants of your panties. He gave you a wicked grin. “Can’t have you leaking all over your cousin’s wedding, now can we?”

Your face heated as you thought about all the times they’d made you walk around with their cum leaking out of you. Apparently, that wasn’t appropriate for a wedding but was fine everywhere else. Steve stood and pulled his pants up before doing up his belt. He held out a hand to you. “Let’s get you fixed up, sweetheart.”

They’d barely done anything and looked like they had when you walked into the room. You, on the other hand, probably looked like you’d gone a couple of rounds with a rabid raccoon. Stupid men. Steve made sure your dress was laying correctly so everything was covered while Bucky did the same thing behind you. They both fiddled with your hair for a moment before declaring you gorgeous.

You narrowed your gaze at them, not buying it for a moment. The three of you quickly put the office to rights. There was nothing you could do about the smell of sex in the air but hopefully it would dissipate before your uncle needed to use it.

“Seriously, baby girl. You look fantastic,” Buck insisted when he noticed you fidgeting.

“Yeah, but you guys like it when I look freshly fucked,” you said as you opened the door. There was a mirror in the hallway you used to check your appearance. You actually didn’t look that bad, but you definitely looked a little wild. You shrugged. Honestly, you didn’t care. “All right, we’re saying hello to the bride, then we’re leaving.”

“No argument here.” Steve took your hand in his and Buck did the same thing on the other side.

When the three of you made it outside, you headed straight for the head table. “Sally, this is Steve and Bucky. Boys, this is my cousin Sally and her new husband Ben.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Steve greeted with a smile. Sally launched herself at him and wrapped him in a hug.

“I can’t believe you came to my wedding,” she squealed before letting go of him to hug Bucky. His eyes begged you to help him but you just smiled. Sally was a bit flighty but she was good people.

She hugged you last. “You should have told me, Y/N. I would have sat you closer to the front.”

“It’s okay, Sally. We have to go. Congratulations,” you said then let her go. When you did, you found that most of the family had come to get introductions or say their farewells. Nicole tried to go in for a hug, but Steve subtly made sure it was nothing more than a handshake. The fact you didn’t introduce her was enough to tell them she wasn’t the kind of person they wanted to know.

When she tried to hug Bucky, you intercepted and hugged her instead. “It was good seeing you, Nicole.”

“You have some explaining to do,” she said in a low voice as she hugged you tighter than necessary. When she released you, she continued to stand by you.

You watched Bucky and Steve say goodbye to your mother and uncle before they turned to you. You held up a finger to tell them you’d be right with them and leaned sideways to get closer to your cousin. “So, just out of curiosity, did anyone in the pool have them fucking me during the reception?”

#stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #here be lemons #knife play #hot girl summer challenge #marvel fanfic

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 3 years

Note

After reading your opinion on Molly Weasley, i want to know: What are you're opinions on the Weasley family? Besides Ron & Molly that is.

Five characters? In one post? Well, alright, here we go.

The Weasleys as a Whole

I’ve mentioned this before but JKR writes the Weasleys to clearly be a believable but ideal family. They’re all fiercely loyal, progressive per wizarding world standards, love each other and Harry deeply, and have this wonderful off-kilter joyous house where there’s always some rambunctious thing going on.

Harry comes to associate the Weasleys with family and, personally, I believe a large part of him marrying Ginny boils down to it will make him a Weasley for real.

That said, they’ve got some major issues. They’re very righteous people who, as a whole, will ice you out the moment they even suspect you do something that disagrees with them. You don’t even have to do it, what you did or didn’t do doesn’t even have to be something terrible or something bad, but god help you if the family decides they’re done with you.

They’re very resentful of people like the Malfoys. This isn’t just because Lucius is a smarmy, pompous, ass (he is) or that he indirectly almost murdered Ginny but seems to mostly be because Lucius has so much money. All of their interactions seem to boil down to the money. More than this though, the Weasleys seem fully supportive of laws that... well, used against themselves would be a travesty but used against the likes of the Malfoys it’s about damn time.

They’re unquestioningly loyal to Dumbledore. Granted, most people we see in canon are, Dumbledore’s very very very good at convincing people he’s a saint. However, these guys are practically his cult member to the point where they do things like refuse to have Harry over the summer, even before Voldemort returned, because Dumbledore told them not to.

They also never really adopt Harry into the family. Oh they give him a nice sweater, he comes over every once in a while to the house, he’s very good friends with Ron but he’s mostly treated just like that, a good friend. Now, there’s nothing wrong with this, except the way JKR sets it up we’re supposed to believe this is the family Harry found. It’s just that the family Harry’s found let’s him stay in a house with bars on his window where twelve-year-old Ron tells them, “Harry’s muggle family is really really awful” in a way that should have been raising red flags. Hermione practically lives at the Weasleys, Harry never does.

Now, are the Weasleys evil? No, far from it, they’re ordinary people who act in ways I’d expect ordinary people too. Technically they didn’t have to do anything more for Harry than they did, they didn’t have to hate Lucius Malfoy for better reasons, and they don’t have to be even slightly less worshipful of Dumbledore. They’re people, and they’re fine characters, but the overwhelming worship and love of the Weasleys we see across fandom does get on my nerves.

But you asked for individuals, so here we go.

Arthur Weasley

Arthur is the epitome of “Pretty Fly for a White Guy” in the worst of ways and is, frankly, a giant awful joke to me. He’s the white kid you see going around with dread locks, a beanie the color of the Jamaican flag, smoking weed, and attempting to speak like Bob Marley

Only, because he does it with muggle things, we’re supposed to find him funny and progressive.

Arthur is absolutely, albeit unwittingly, condescending in his love of muggle knickknacks. He has no idea how any of it actually works, not limited to how muggles could possible survive without the gold standard, but ardently believes he does because he can enchant the car to fly. Seriously, that he believes he’s an expert on muggle culture, as a pureblood wizard who heads an office in the ministry on it, is the worst part. His love of toasters comes across as, “Wow, look how cool it is that these poor little muggles made all this neat stuff. We should absolutely love the muggles because of it!” And that he heads an office in the ministry called “The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts” which is all about catching down Jackass style pranksters who think it would be hilarious of they enchanted toasters to bludgeon muggles to death...

Goddammit Arthur, why do you exist?

Right, otherwise, he’s got some pride issues going on. Part of the reason Percy is excommunicated is not so much that Percy doesn’t believe Harry, but because Percy dared to do better than Arthur in his own career. Arthur is stuck in his position as head of a joke of a department, he is an underling at its finest, and frankly likely only has that position because he’s a pureblood and the idea of putting a halfblood or even muggleborn at the head of a department dealing with muggles just made the higher ups shudder. (Don’t tell Arthur that though, he likes to think he’s not benefitting from nepotism).

Arthur goes so far to accuse Percy as Fudge’s secretary as spying on him. Arthur, the guy who heads “Misuse of Muggle Artifacts”. Yeah, Arthur, I’m sure Fudge is really wasting his time using his straight laced secretary to find out all your dirty secrets.

He also tends to see the world as very black and white. When Skeeter in book 4 writes an article after the Quidditch World Cup disaster complaining about the ministry’s lax security in enabling domestic terrorists to enter (something completely valid and true by the way) Arthur is so personally offended that both he and Percy go straight to the ministry to complain about Rita Skeeter and her daring to assume freedom of speech! HOW DARE SHE CALL THE MINISTRY’S NON-EXISTENT SECURITY AT THE WORLD CUP LAX! (To be fair, she also cited Arthur as having been in attendance at the event, a ministry employee, and having done nothing but, well, this is also true Arthur. You’re in a guerilla, underground, resistance movement. If I didn’t already think the Order was a joke this would kind of highlight it for me).

He’s also very resentful of Lucius Malfoy, and it seems to mostly be about the money. Arthur and Molly have a severe spending problem and actively resent that Lucius is swimming in money. That Arthur is ardently pleased about a law being passed in which the ministry without warrant can ransack Lucius Malfoy’s home...

Well, Arthur, imagine the slippery slope if the government decides that it would like to search the Weasley home without warrant? In fact, he doesn’t even have to imagine it, as the beloved government in a few short years turns against him and then it’s all about how corrupt the ministry is.

Arthur’s delightfully narrowminded, basically, and reminds us at nearly every opportunity.

Percy Weasley

Mostly, I just feel bad for Percy. Percy’s the son/brother that nobody likes and he’s painfully aware of that fact. He doesn’t fit in with the others, he has far too much ambition for the Gryffindor family and they resent him for it, and then he dares to say things like “I don’t know guys, Voldemort resurrecting from the dead after decades doesn’t sound plausible, we know Harry’s a little off kilter, and Dumbledore’s one shady dude”. Percy happens to be wrong about Voldemort resurrecting (and admits as much when the evidence is plainly visible), but he’s pretty on the money with the rest of it.

Regardless, growing up we see Ron constantly hating on Percy along with the rest of the siblings. I’m sure Percy is obnoxious, and certainly full of himself after making prefect and head boy, but he’s very clearly even before Order of the Phoenix the Least Favorite Brother (TM).

Then the Weasley family completely ices him out for a) getting a very high ranking position very quickly as Fudge’s secretary and b) not being gung ho about Dumbledore saying crazy things in the paper. Remember that to Percy Harry is Ron’s weird friend who seems to get into highly illegal activities every other week. From Percy’s point of view, it’s probably a matter of time before Harry becomes a crack head in Knockturn Alley (or given how behind the times wizards tend to be, an opium den).

He’s constantly getting Ron into not only trouble but life threatening situations, is erratic and apparently a parseltongue of all things, and now Harry’s flipped his lid and saying that Voldemort has been resurrected after having gone through a very traumatic experience of watching a classmate somehow die.

While we see Percy kind of (sort of) make up with the family it’s clear that for Percy to have any relation with these people he’s the one who will always, ALWAYS, have to come crawling back on his knees and begging for forgiveness. It’s the Weasley way or the highway and I imagine, at some point probably a little after/during that epilogue, Percy will just slowly drift away because it’s just not worth it anymore.

Percy’s very much the black sheep of the family.

Fred and George Weasley

You all are going to kill me, but I actually don’t care in the slightest about Fred and George Weasley. This is because they basically have no personality aside from “funny”.

They just have their weird, tandem, twin act and are either playing jokes on the school or else serving as Deus ex Machina in giving Harry magical items such as the Marauder’s Map for no apparent reason. The plot told them it was time, I guess.

Their jokes, while not as bad as Sirius and James’ “Let’s sexually harrass Severus Snape by pantsing and beating him at the edge of Hogwarts lake” or Sirius’ “Let’s get Snape eaten by a werewolf!” are still often needlessly cruel and... kind of pointless. They harass Slytherin house constantly just because they happen to be Slytherins, they’re acceptable victims (which of course makes house tension that much worse). Harry gets sent a toilet seat in the hospital because... that’s funny? Har de har?

They’re so indistinguishable from one another I routinely see people mistake which one got his ear chopped off and which one died. Because the point is, that we can’t tell the difference! It doesn’t matter who lived and who died because all we know is that Freorge is dead!

Similarly, you see tons of fics around where character of the day ends up in this weird twincestuous relationship with Fred and George and it’s not only for a) that delightful twincest but b) because they’re such a singular unit that any attempt to pair one with somebody else feels weird. So you just get these porn fics about Fred and George being weird rapey teenagers who seem like they’d be more interested dating each other.

Charlie Weasley

I really have no thoughts on Charlie. He raises dragons in Romania, the family loves him. Now, dragon raising feels like one of the most dangerous jobs in the Harry Potter universe, like Charlie had just gone and signed up to be a lumberjack but he seems to like it?

We really don’t see much of Charlie, he’s just the obligatory older Weasley son so that the Weasleys can be this ridiculously large family.

Bill Weasley

We see slightly more of Bill, but again, not enough to really leave an impression. We know that his marrying Fleur sent Molly into a complete state, and that they’re going to have awkward Christmas dinners forever because of it where Fleur just sits there and pretends not to loathe every second of Molly’s presence while Molly notes how bad it is that Victoire got stuck with that ugly pink hair instead of the Weasley red.

Bill doesn’t seem to really do anything about this. He still marries Fleur, but we don’t really see a major confrontation where he tells the family “Look, I’m marrying her, so grow up.” So, I imagine he just tries to smile pleasantly and tells Fleur to just endure it for another few hours. He loves his family, his family’s great, but they only have to see Fleur once a year at Christmas.

Ginny Weasley

Ginny is weird. She’s this weird, frankly, almost personality-less void whose sole obsession in life seems to be marrying Harry. She and Harry end up in the world’s weirdest relationship and I honestly have no idea how people ship it other than canon told them to.

Ginny’s... well, first off, she’s very much in love with an idea. She had always worshipped Harry Potter but then he personally saves her life in what was a horrifically traumatic year and so that feeling just grows even more. Despite being Ron’s sister, she barely seems to know Harry, and everything she seems to like about it are just things she made up.

I imagine her and Harry’s marriage will be littered with affairs on her end. Not divorce though, because Harry would never admit his wife is having affairs on him all the time even if someone directly confronted him. Harry also won’t admit he’s gay.

More than though we get hints of a personality. Ginny’s a fiery red-head tomboy with a temper. But... Well, it’s only ever hints. She never felt like a real person to me. She has I think one throwaway line about the Chamber of Secrets incident and how it personally affected her. We’re told she’s great at the bat boogey hex so we know she’s a fiery independent woman.

She feels more like a character sheet than an actual person.

Whenever she’s around I always had this nagging question in my head where I ask why Ginny’s here. She has a lot of potential but nothing’s ever done with her. And when something is, it’s to get her into this bizarre relationship with Harry where he imagines there’s a green rage monster in his chest that loves her skin.

Okay Harry, if you say so.

TL;DR: The Weasleys aren’t evil or anything, I’m not on Team Bash Them All, but they are shortsighted, ordinary, people who don’t deserve to be worshipped as all that is good in this world.

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skiesofthesketchy · 4 years

Text

Midsummers

Pairing: JJ Maybank x kook!reader

Summary: You drag a poor, unsuspecting stranger to be apart of your little scheme, but JJ doesn’t mind all that much.

Note: Yoooooo how are you guys? This fic is dedicated to my bff @rafej-cambanks bc it is her birthday today!! Go send her some love! I figured this might be a nice lil surprise bc it is 1 of the maybe 2 unpublished fics that you haven’t read yet lol. Anyway, I love you SO MUCH and hope you like this :)

Still working on blurbs for my 1k celebration! Sit tight, they will be coming soon :)

Warnings: language, hella fluff, uhhhh yea Word Count: 4k

gif by @toesure

***

Standing in front of the full-length mirror and gazing at your reflection, you couldn’t keep a straight face. The pretty emerald fabric of your dress adorned your figure perfectly, considering the thousands of dollars your mother spent on it plus having it tailored to fit you so. The hem fell to your ankles, showing off your expensive six inch heels and perfectly painted toenails. Your jewelry consisted of a simple diamond necklace and matching earrings, the sparkle adding to your already glowing complexion. You assumed your makeup would look cakey, but it actually looked quite flawless. That’s what you get when your mother hires a professional to do your makeup and hair for the most prestigious Kook party of the year.

Midsummers. Tonight was the night every Kook family planned for months beforehand, and then talked about the months following after. The party where rich socialites gather to brag about their wealth and successes over lobster and expensive champagne, playing fake nice to uphold their own powerful and pleasant reputations. You hated Midsummers with every fiber of your being, but alas, it was the one event you couldn’t get out of, and you had to attend.

You bubbled with laughter as you gazed at your appearance, hardly looking like yourself at all. A silly flower crown in your hair and an elegant dress that could probably pay for a trip to Europe. “So this is the daughter my parents have always wanted,” you sighed, coming out of your laughing fit.

Your parents never really understood you. All they ever wanted was for you to be their perfect princess, hanging out with other Kooks, going shopping, finding a suitable boyfriend from a wealthy family, you know, the whole shabang. And of course, keeping your grades up at the academy so that you can one day work for your father’s multi-million dollar company. It was what all Kooks expect from their kids, but you weren’t about that lifestyle.

Sure, you were grateful for your comfy upbringing, but you couldn’t care less about any of that stuff. You just wanted to have fun, travel the world, figure out who you are. You’d jump off a cliff before you had to be tied down to this boring, money-obsessed world that your parents live in.

With a quick wink to your alter-ego in the mirror, you sauntered out of the large bathroom, your heels clacking on the white marble floors. You made your way to the extravagant lobby area of the Island Club, staying close to the wall in order to not be noticed. Your parents were thankfully already at the party outside, but there was still someone you were trying to avoid: the pathetic boy your parents had set you up with.

He really wasn’t that bad, just boring like every other Kook boy your age. Only caring about parties, drugs, and tormenting the Pogues on the island. According to your parents though, he was a “suitable young man” because his parents were wealthy and respected on Figure Eight.

You spotted your date, Topper Thornton, leisurely scrolling on his phone, his other hand in his pocket. He was waiting for you so that you two could walk down the glorious staircase into the party together. It was tradition for ladies to be escorted down the steps, which is exactly why your mother took finding an escort for you into her own hands. The stupid tradition made you gag. You didn’t need a pretty boy to escort you into a lame-ass party, and that’s why you were hiding from him.

With Topper’s gaze fixed on his phone, you took this opportunity to slip through the large room and onto the balcony, the party happening just down the stairs. With a sigh, you started your descent down the staircase, taking in the scene in front of you. There were pretty lights hung up around the huge tent covering the dining area. People were dressed to the nines, champagne flutes in hand as they giggled and chatted to one another. The live band played classy music while some couples danced, and staff members ran around serving drinks to the attendees.

Casually walking down the last few steps, that’s when you noticed your parents watching you, and you grinned brightly at them. You knew ditching your date for the grand entrance would piss them off, which is mostly why you did it, and it was confirmed by the sour expressions on their faces.

“Mom. Dad. You guys look great!” you smiled. Your mother only scowled in response.

“Y/N! What on earth are you doing? Where’s the Thornton boy?” She spoke through her perfect teeth clenched in a fake smile, trying not to draw attention from others.

You shrugged. “I dunno. Great party though,” you said nonchalantly as your eyes wandered, obviously not bothered by the disappointing looks your parents were giving you.

“You know your mother wanted you to walk in on a man’s arm,” your dad said. He was trying to console your mom by rubbing her back soothingly. She was not taking this well, her chest rising and falling rapidly in anger. She wanted to yell at you, but wouldn’t dare to make a scene with all of these people around.

You rolled your eyes. “Why do I have to be escorted by some boy? That tradition is dumb, and sexist, quite frankly.”

“Y/N, you’re embarrassing us!” your mom whisper-yelled. Her eyes were wide and her lips twisted in displeasure. She’s more pissed than you thought she’d be, and you smiled. “You couldn’t have done this one thing for us? Why can’t you go one night without embarrassing your family?”

“You’re being dramatic,” you sighed. You loved pushing their buttons. They have to figure out you don’t want to live in this Kook bubble for the rest of your life sooner or later. It sucks that they aren’t accepting of who you are and only want you to be their little Kook Princess, but that has never kept you down for long.

“Don’t talk to your mother that way,” your dad warned in a low voice. You scoffed.

“Tell me why you ditched your date,” your mom whispered, the anger still apparent even with how quietly she spoke.

“I ditched him because I already have a boyfriend, Mom.” You didn’t really have a boyfriend, but the lie rolled off your tongue easily. Lying to your parents was something you did quite often, and not just to get away with the stupid shit you do sometimes. It was fun to mess with them. They get so upset over silly things, especially your mom.

A smirk found its way to your mother's face, and you knew she didn’t buy it. “Oh yeah? Then where is he?” You weren’t going to give her the satisfaction of catching you in your lie, especially if it meant she’d make you walk back up those damn steps just to retrieve Topper and do the whole entrance all over again.

You were already disinterested in this conversation, but you couldn’t just walk away now. Your eyes wandered the party briefly, and that’s when you spotted a waiter heading in your direction. He didn’t seem too busy at the moment, no drinks or plates of food in hand, so the gears in your head started turning. Before you could even second guess your plan, you were stopping the boy’s strides by grabbing his hand and dragging him to the spot next to you in front of your parents.

“Right here,” you said. “Mom. Dad. Meet my boyfriend.” An innocent smile graced your lips as you stared at your parents, awaiting their reactions. You were happy to see surprise and displeasure taking over their features, and the blonde boy next to you looked just the same. You ignored him though and the way he turned to you with confusion dancing in his eyes. You didn’t even care if the stranger went along with it. Even if he walked off and this all blew up in your face, the shock on your mom’s face right now has already made it worth it. You found it all fucking hilarious.

Registering the silence and how nobody seemed to know what to do, you turned your smiling face towards the boy, squeezing his hand in yours and trying not to laugh at this whole situation. You finally noticed his beautiful blue eyes and the way they seemed to ask you what the hell is going on. You shot him a wink, and after quickly scanning your face, something in him seemed to change.

“Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N. It’s so great to finally meet you.” The boy had turned his attention back to your parents, and reached to shake your father’s hand. You couldn’t help the happiness that swelled up inside of you. He’s actually going along with your idiotic plan to piss your parents off even more.

Your other hand came up to rest on the boy’s bicep as you watched him shake your dad’s hand. Your dad couldn’t form words as he looked at the waiter you clung to. Your mom had plastered on one of her brilliant fake smiles after a few seconds, and nodded her head in acknowledgement.

This was almost too good to be true. You didn’t know the boy standing next to you, but considering he was part of the staff, he had to be a Pogue. Your parents never allowed you to hang out with Pogues before, so you could only imagine their fury after learning you were dating one. You only caught a quick glance at the blonde, but you noticed the bruises on his face and the cut on his lip. You didn’t know his story, but you knew your parents only saw him as a trouble-making Pogue, and his beat up face only made it better. Not to mention you were in the middle of the biggest party of the year. Your parents wouldn’t dare do anything to make a scene, not here. Sure, you’d be getting an earful at home later, but you were already basking in the pleasure of seeing them so utterly angry and not being able to show it.

“And what’s your name, young man?” your dad asked.

“JJ Maybank, sir.” You turned your gaze to the boy again, and he smiled charmingly at your parents. “I’ve heard lots about you both, from your lovely daughter here.” He suddenly turned to face you again, the same cute smile on his lips, and released your hand to instead wrap his arm around your waist. Fuck, he’s doing a great job at playing along even though you dragged him into this mess that he had no business being in. You were loving every second of this.

The way your mom was struggling to keep her calm composure had laughter bubbling in your chest, but you kept your lips shut tight to hold it in. “JJ,” she said through clenched teeth. “Are you working the party?” As polite as she was trying to be, her distasteful glance at his work attire didn’t go unnoticed by anyone.

JJ wasn’t disheartened by her question, and only smiled bigger. “Yes ma’am, I work at the Island Club for such events. I also deliver groceries and mow lawns. But don’t worry. I still make plenty of time to take Y/N out on dates and treat her like the princess she is.” You found his gaze once again, and you swear you could kiss him. He’s really milking this whole encounter with your parents and you promised yourself to thank him later.

“Oh, that’s nice,” your dad responded for your mother. She was practically seething underneath that perfect mask of hers, but your father looked quite uncomfortable as well. And here you thought Midsummers would be boring.

You listened in on the awkward conversation a few minutes more before you spoke up. “I’m glad you guys finally met, but we’re gonna go now. Enjoy the party!” You grinned one last time at your parents before grabbing JJ’s hand and dragging him away, leaving them to simmer in their shock and anger without you.

You had made it all the way to the other side of the dance floor before you burst out laughing. Giggles poured out of you loudly, and JJ couldn’t help but join in. You didn’t even care how awkward that whole situation was, you found it absolutely hilarious and you were happy to see that JJ seemed to think so too. “Thanks for playing along with that, man,” you smiled. “I totally owe you.”

JJ Maybank was confused to say the least. He caught on to your little plan and used his superb improv skills to play along, but he didn’t really know why. He’d never met you before, and couldn’t possibly figure out why you would claim him as your boyfriend. And though you two had never met, he knew exactly who you were. Everyone did. You were Y/N Y/L/N. Your parents were among the richest Kooks on the whole island, and you were their perfect Kook Princess. Why on earth would you ever tell them that he was your boyfriend? He was a low-life Pogue. None of it made any sense.

He wanted to ask you for an explanation, but he was too caught up in the moment with you. He had never seen you up close before, and had to admit he found you intriguingly beautiful. Your eyes gleaming as your whole face lit up, your dress showing off your nice figure and complimenting you perfectly, even the giggles escaping your lips screamed beauty. He had his mind made up about you, thinking you’re no different than every other rich girl on the island, but now he’s not so sure. From the moment you abruptly grabbed his hand, he could tell you didn’t give a fuck about anything. You seemed fun.

“Do you always try to freak your parents out like that?” he asked with a laugh.

You chuckled too with a nod. “Yeah. They’re too comfy in their dumb Kook lifestyle, so I like to scare them every once in a while.” You looked up at him with your pretty smile, and he could only smile back. Your words suddenly made him like being in your presence a whole lot more.

He watched as you messed with your flower crown, the flowers getting caught in your hair as you unceremoniously pulled it off of your head. “Stupid fucking flower crown...” you mumbled before tossing it off to the side on the ground. JJ laughed at your messed up hair, but reached his hands up to fix it for you. You couldn’t care less about what you looked like, which he found odd about you, but you enjoyed the feeling of his fingers running through your hair, patting down the wild strands.

You took this opportunity to really look at him. His blonde hair was messy and the locks fell over his forehead. The bruises marking his face did little to hide how attractive he was, the cut on his lip seemed to make him even more attractive to you. Even his work uniform was tattered and wrinkled, but he still managed to look good in it. He finished messing with your hair and tucked a strand behind your ear, eyes meeting yours, and neither of you could hide your curious smiles. “Thanks,” you hummed. He only nodded in response.

Your eyes wandered as you tried to figure out what to say, but you caught sight of Topper bounding down the staircase, his gaze searching through the party, probably for you. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath, grabbing JJ’s shoulders and positioning him in front of you. You stepped closer to him as you peaked your head over his shoulder to keep your eyes on the Kook you ditched.

“Hiding from someone?” JJ asked, looking down at you with amusement.

You nodded. “Just the guy my parents tried to set me up with. I may or may not have ditched him,” you laughed sheepishly. Maybe you should’ve felt bad, but you didn’t.

JJ spared a glance over his shoulder. “Which one of these unlucky bastards was it?”

You giggled, still trying to hide your frame completely behind JJ. “Topper Thornton. Frosted Tips. Looks like a lost puppy.”

JJ laughed and you could practically feel the warm vibrations from his chest. His pretty eyes met yours again, and he surprised you by wrapping his arm around your waist while his other hand found yours, bringing the pair of you into a waltz position. A smile tugged on your lips as you placed your other hand on his broad shoulder, and you both began to sway.

JJ never pictured himself in this position before. Slow dancing with you, the Kook Princess of all people, at the Kookiest party of the year no less. He felt a strange sense of pride knowing that you had ditched Topper and are instead dancing with him. Being this close to you, he found himself trying to memorize your features, the color of your eyes, the softness of your hand in his, and the enticing curve of your waist which he had the pleasure of holding onto.

“So,” JJ spoke softly. “What do you normally do when you’re not attending fancy parties and pissing off your parents?” He didn’t know why, but he wanted to find out more about you. You’re already quite different than what he made you out to be.

“Getting into more trouble,” you responded with a wink.

He chuckled. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

You shrugged. “Last month, I ran off to Cuba for a week without telling anyone.” You didn’t think it was a big deal, but you noticed the waves of surprise in JJ’s eyes. You giggled at his expression. “What about you? When you’re not serving drinks, delivering groceries, or mowing lawns,” you paused to admire the bruises on his face. “What do you do?”

“Get into trouble,” he laughed, shooting your words back at you.

You played along. “Oh yeah? Like what?” You don’t know when it happened, but you realized now that you guys were closer than before. Your chest was pressed into his, and his face was so close you could kiss him with the slightest lift onto your toes.

“Picking fights with your Kooky friends, usually,” he chuckled.

“If you’re referring to Topper and his goons, we’re not friends.” JJ’s lips lifted into a small smile at your words. If he wasn’t mistaken, you were about as fond of those assholes as he was.

You both were just staring at each other, choosing to put the small talk to rest and just enjoy the moment. JJ’s eyes never left yours as you brought both of your arms around his neck, leaving him to wrap his arms around your back, diminishing any space there was between your bodies. You thought he might’ve kissed you with the way his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, but he didn’t. Instead, his hands found yours and he spun you around so that your back was against him, your arms crossed over your body as you continued to sway.

His lips hovered over your neck briefly, and you released a sigh, trying to remember the last time you felt so close to someone, so content and in the moment. Something about the boy holding you in his arms gave you butterflies, that warm and exciting feeling spreading through your veins. He suddenly released one of your hands and pushed you so that you were spinning away from him, but then caught you and pulled you back.

You giggled as he twirled you around the dance floor, pleasantly surprised at how good of a dancer he was. Staying hidden from Topper wasn’t even on your mind anymore. With his grip on both of your hands, you both spun around, making the other dancing patrons have to move out of the way. Your laugh bubbled louder, and you couldn’t care less about the other guests. JJ found himself laughing along with you, even though part of him still wondered why he was here, dancing and having fun with you.

After a moment, he pulled you back against him and you both fought to catch your breaths while the laughter died down. He admired your features again, and the question he’s been dying to ask finally escaped passed his lips. “How come you’re not embarrassed to be seen with me?” He didn’t mean it to sound so insecure, he was rather genuinely curious.

Your brows furrowed slightly in confusion, your grin turning into a frown. “Why would I be embarrassed?”

He scoffed lightly. “Come on, Y/N. We’re from two different worlds.” His eyes wandered for a second, noticing the amount of eyes on the two of you, probably floored at the scene you guys had just made. “Everyone is watching. The Kook Princess dancing with a Pogue...” He didn’t mean to bring down the mood, but he couldn’t help it. He was used to being dismissed, used to being viewed as a disgusting Pogue that only got into trouble.

You brought your hands up to brush his hair away from his face, your bright smile returning. Your hands then cupped his cheeks, your thumb gently brushing over his split lip. “I don’t give a fuck about these people.” JJ chuckled, feeling his spirits lift once again. Your fingers dragged down his neck and landed on his collar, which you straightened for him.

“You know,” you started, eyes fixed on the buttons of his white shirt. “I expected tonight to be the absolute worst, but I’m actually having an amazing time.” You peered up at him through your lashes, and JJ smiled.

“Oh yeah?” he smirked, his usual flirty persona returning. “And why is that?”

You giggled, deciding to humor him. “I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my handsome fake boyfriend has some damn good dance moves,” you winked. Your chest became warm at the sound of JJ’s deep chuckle, his breath fanning over your face.

Among the many judgy looks the pair of you were getting, your parents were also watching from a nearby table. JJ noticed their burning glares, and an idea popped into his head. Gazing into your pretty eyes, he smirked with a nod of his head to the side. When you glanced over and was greeted with the sight of your very angry parents, a grin creeped onto your face. You were making quite the spectacle, but really, who cares? “Want to give them something to be really pissed about?” JJ asked.

You looked at him curiously, but nodded nonetheless. You were already thrilled with how the night was going, and wondered what else he could possibly have up his sleeve. He leaned forward and suddenly, his lips were on yours. Your surprise was soon washed away and you allowed yourself to melt into the kiss, arching your back to press your chest into him.

His hand rested on the back of your neck, pulling you in even closer as you both indulged in one another. His other large hand squeezed your hip, and you squealed softly against his lips. After a few more seconds, you pulled away from each other, gleaming smiles on your faces. Yeah, that sure made your parents fucking livid. Your mother had excused herself from the table they were sitting at, and your father followed after her, but you weren’t paying attention to them.

JJ had rested his palms on your cheeks, just looking at you, and he knew then that he wouldn’t be able to get you off of his mind no matter how hard he tried. Your hands gripped his wrists, and you felt sad for a moment, thinking about how JJ probably needs to get back to work. He needs to get back to his life, and you need to get back to yours. “I’ll see you around, JJ?” You held your breath, hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.

He kissed you once more, short and sweet, before pulling away again with a smirk. “Definitely.” And with that, he made his way back through the party and into the building while you watched, not being able to hide your giddy grin.

***

Pls let me know what you think :) love you all

Masterlist

***

Obx tags: @sportygal55 @jazbarnes05 @lovelogan @lannxyz @caseyabel28 @falling-perfectly @thisismynerdyself @mattelblake @justanotherbooklover @hemmingsness @queenofthepouges @dontjinx-it @pink-meringues @outerbnx-stiles @little-miss-rebel3 @shreckluver7

JJ tags: @kaylinfayezink @unfortunatekiwitrash @shy-1234 @bijleegiregi @cheshirecat107 @yami5525 @folkloverr @dracoswhore007

#skiesofthesketchy #outer banks #obx #jj maybank #jj x reader #outer banks fic #jj maybank x reader #rudy pankow #jj x kook!reader #obx fic #obx imagine #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic #midsummers

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wannabe-fic-writer · 3 years

Text

All Over Again - Chapter 11

Summary: What was lost can be found.

Warning: 18+ Smut, Language, Violence.

Ch. 10

* * * * * *

Sweat builds with each second that passes.

You wring your fingers together nervously as your leg bounces up and down.

Calling a team meeting was the fastest way to get this done so here you sit, in the common room of the compound, waiting for everyone to show up.

Just two weeks ago you’d come to the decision to move to National City with Lena. In the time that passed after that you spent three days there, mostly hanging with Lena but also visiting the DEO. You weren’t surprised to see Alex there, the woman being the director. While she hadn’t welcomed you with open arms, she was impressed with your initial interview(which was just her kicking your ass up and down the training room). After being assured you’d have a spot at the DEO by the Director herself, you came back to NYC.

The team had yet to handle the enhanced individual situation but the moment you got back, or at least the day after, you all organized a mission to capture them. With the whole team’s collective strength and skill, you were successful in capturing the enhanced which you were glad for. It made this part all the more easy.

“Y/Ln what’s the reason for this meeting?” Steve asks, stepping around the couch with his arms crossed over his chest, a mask of strictly business written on his face.

“I-I’d rather wait for the rest of the team before I say anything. Could you sit?” You gesture to the couch, ignoring how your hand shakes in nervousness.

Steve clearly catches the involuntary action, eyebrow quirking in the slightest. He sits nonetheless.

Much like Steve, everyone eyes you curiously or straight out asks what the point of the meeting is as they come in and you tell them to be patient. Until finally everyone is seated on the couches around you, all of their eyes trying to look through you to figure out what’s going on.

They’re the people you’ve grown to love and care for over the years. People you’d give your life for without question. Your family. And you’re about to leave them.

E/c eyes land on familiar green ones. The two of you have yet to talk again, after the engagement situation and all. Admittedly you’d miss the hell out of her. Sure things haven’t been great the past couple years but that couldn’t write away all the good before that. She’d given you a love like no other for three years. She cherished and loved you and there was no denying that.

You then look over to the other set of green eyes. Ones that belonged to the young woman you’ve loved and will always love. You claim her as your best friend but she’s your sister, a blessing you hadn’t had before the Avengers. God, leaving her is going to be the hardest. Looking at her soft, reassuring expression, it’s already tearing you up inside.

“Um-” you clear your throat, hating the sting of fresh tears that starts in your eyes,“ I guess there’s no easy way to say this but I- I’m moving to National City.”

. . .

“No you’re not.” Natasha is the first to speak, voice hard with determination. That same emotion in her eyes.

But the look you give her makes that slip away.

Steve frowns, sliding to the edge of the couch,“ why?”

You have to look away from Natasha. You can’t say why if you’re staring into those already hurt green eyes.“ My girlfriend lives in National City. I think it’d be best for our relationship and quite frankly myself if we were closer.”

That answer triggers a wave of mixed responses from everyone. For the most part they’re upset but some of them, Bucky and Bruce, are fairly calm about it all. Sam is damn near shouting at you, not understanding why long distance couldn’t continue to work since it had obviously been before. Steve can’t believe you’d give up saving people to go to National City and you can’t even tell him that that’s not what you’re doing since Natasha is mean mugging you and damn near spitting at you that you need to think on this more and it’d be stupid of you to just up and leave for a relationship that’s just begun.

In their anger, no one notices the single tear that slides down your cheek, almost no one. Before you can swipe it away and pretend it’s not there, a gentle hand rests on your cheek and an equally soft thumb brushes it away.

You already know who it belongs to and you can’t bring yourself to look at her.

“Y/n,” Wanda’s quiet, honey like voice hits your ears.“ Is moving going to make you happy?”

Out of all the things you’d expected her to say, that wasn’t it. It makes you look at her.

She’s squatting in front of you, one hand resting on your knee and the other still on your cheek. The look in her eyes, though distorted by unshed tears, is pure and sincere. Your best friend/sister just wants you to be happy. To her, you deserve it more than anyone she’s ever known. She’s seen how happy Lena makes you and if going to be with her is going to further that she sure as hell isn’t going to stand in the way of that.

Nodding, you take a shaky breath,“ yeah it is”

“Then go and don’t feel bad for leaving.” Now she’s the one letting tears fall.“ Just promise to come visit.”

Both your hands cup her face to wipe the now quickly falling tears,“ you know I could never leave you for long.” The two of you, moving in near perfect harmony, wrap each other in a hug.

Wanda’s arms loop around your neck, face pressed into your neck, as yours tightly wrap around her waist.

“I’m gonna miss you so much Wan.” Your voice is a whisper against her neck.

The two of you remain in your embrace, completely forgetting the team around you. They all looked on, seeing you like that with Wanda makes them realize that as hard as this is for them it’s the same for you. You may be the one making the decision to move but that doesn’t mean you aren’t hurt by leaving them.

Pulling away, Wanda grabs your hand. At this point she just needs to be close to you.

“When are you leaving?” Steve asks.

You take one more steadying breath,“ about a month from now. I want to get everything squared away here.” His eyebrow raises.“ If it’s okay with you I’d like to stay as a remote member of the team, I’d be more than happy to come help if need be but I’ll be working with the DEO in National City.”

Steve nods, already knowing of the organization, while the rest of the team waits for an explanation.

“Department of Extranormal Operations.”

“So you have everything set then?” Bucky asks.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips,“ yeah. Job is set and I’ll be living with Lena. Plus it’s nice to already have friends there so-”

“You’re living with her?” All gazes more to Natasha.“ What if things don’t work out?”

Instead of getting angry with her, you take a deep breath in. She’s upset which you take into consideration before replying,“ well for one I’m hoping things do indeed work out and if they don’t I’m very capable of making it on my own if need be.”

Her eyes narrow at you and the second Bruce’s hand brushes her leg she shoots up and walks away. E/c eyes follow her as she leaves the common room and you look back at Bruce,“ you mind if I-”

“Sure sure.” He nods and gestures after her.

Giving Wanda’s hand a gentle squeeze, you smile softly at her nod, and follow after the upset redhead. She can only be one of two places and when you check the first(the gym) and she’s not there, you head straight up to the roof.

As expected you find her there. She’s sitting on the ledge, legs hanging over, as she plays with her fingers. For just a moment you allow myself to take in how beautiful she still is, especially with the sun accentuating the brown specks in her green eyes and her hair, unusually, in a ponytail. You look away before you can begin to feel guilty.

“Hey.” Your voice is deliberately soft as you sit beside her.

When she looks over, you can feel her eyes bore into the side of your head.“ I knew when you told me that I wouldn’t lose you it wasn’t true bu-”

“I meant it when I said you wouldn’t lose me-”

“Yet you haven’t spoken to me since that day and now you’re leaving so how am I not losing you?”

“I’m not leaving forever Natasha. And I’m sorry we haven’t spoken but things have been insane between us and I don’t want it to be. I just got frustrated with the engagement and your need for an answer.”

“I’m sorry okay I didn’t want to frustrate you.” Seeing tears glisten in her eyes breaks your heart.“ If you’re leaving because of me- because of how I’ve been acting then don’t okay I can-”

Hating that the usually strong woman is so deeply affected by this, you wrap an arm around her without thought, and pull her into your side. She’s quick to bring her arms around your middle and hug you back.

The deep sigh you give makes her tighten her hold a bit.“ Tasha I promise you I’m not leaving because of you. Like I’ve said, things haven’t been perfect with us but that doesn’t mean I’d run from it. I just want to be closer to Lena.”

Those words make Natasha pull back, her hands running up her face and over her hair.“ Is this real- with her?” Honestly the woman is trying her damndest to come to terms with you, quite obviously, loving someone else.

You nod, making sure to look into her eyes so she knows how serious you are,“ it is. I truly love her and I know she feels the same. It’s why this move is so important. We’re going to have issues and the distance would just make that worse. And I don’t want the distance to be the problem either.”

“I understand.” She nods, her bottom lip settling between her teeth as she looks away.“ Just be careful I- I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“Trust me I will be.”

Silence creeps in and you both stay up there for a little longer. It’s the most untense the atmosphere has ever been between yourself and Natasha in years and finally, after all this time around her, you can smile. Natasha, upon seeing the expression, does so herself.

But around the compound moments never last. This particular one is cut short at the quiet, almost inaudible, sound of a jet.

Looking ahead reveals the all too familiar red and gold color metal suit. Iron Man hovering up and over onto the roof. His thrusters stop and he power poses as he hits the ground. His helmet disassembles from his face to reveal the glare he’s fixed at you.

Taken aback by it, you lean away just a little,“ hey Tony.”

“You’re leaving. I don’t recall giving you permission to do so.” You open your mouth to speak but he continues,“ as an original member of the team and a long time friend I hereby forbid from leaving. Glad that’s settled.” He shrugs as if to end the conversation.

With raised eyebrows, you reply,“ Tony, it’s best for me to go to National City, and it’s best for-”

“Miss Luthor. Yes I’m aware. Lena’s a lucky lady but we have dibs so. . .” His eyes scan your face before flicking away to some random sight.

Sighing, you step toward the man and rest a hand on the nanotech suit. You aren’t at all surprised by his reaction, especially after the way everyone else reacted. This is his way of telling you he’s going to miss you without saying anything.“ Tony I promise I’m gonna visit. And I’ll be on call for whenever I’m needed.”

“Then you might as well just not leave.”

A pointed look from you and Tony knows to not fight it any further. Not that he really thought his words would make you stay.

“Don’t think you’re escaping without a party.” He says as the helmet forms again.“ I’ll send you the details, make sure the schedule’s clear.” And with that he shoots off into the sky.

Over the next few weeks you find yourself more busy than you have been. For the majority of the beginning you focus on dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s of your business with the Avengers, filing mission reports, working on weapons that could be needed, and finishing missions that were previously assigned.

The very second that was all done, you went straight to Wanda. Your first night with the young woman, you didn’t sleep a wink, even though it was a sleepover.

Between the endless movies, random dance/singing sessions, pigging out on food and sweets, and just talking to each other about any and everything, you’d ended up spending four days with her and only her. After which you promptly, and rightfully, dedicated time to your entire team.

Your impending departure drew you closer to every member of the team, yes even Bruce who, while not your best friend or anything, proved to be a truly cool guy. The time spent with him pushed you over that line you’d been hesitant to cross. He’s what Natasha needs and what she wants. Acknowledging that she’s going to be more than fine with you gone makes this whole thing that bit easier.

Before you know it, your last month is up.

“Hey, you ready?”

Smoothing your hands down the button up you’d chosen for tonight, you raise your gaze to Wanda through the mirror and smile.“ Is anyone ever ready for Tony’s parties?” You refrain from bringing up that it’ll be your last for a while.

Your best friend shakes her head,“ no never.” She makes you chuckle.

Easily looping her arm around yours, she walks you both out of your now empty room and down the halls to the common room.

With Tony having planned this whole thing, you weren’t sure what to expect but what you find doesn’t surprise you.

Across the front windows are big golden balloons spelling out “Later Traitor” and you nod, suppressing a laugh. More gold and silver balloons and streamers decorate the place. The table is covered with food and the bar is just barely decorated but still in theme.

“Ever one for tact mister Stark.” You joke as you approach him.

His head rises, brown eyes locking with yours,“ I wouldn’t be me if I weren’t honest.” The man hands his drink over to Pepper,“ I’ll need daily reports of your time in NC,” the billionaire says, leaving no room for a rebuttal as he adds,“ and if you need anything at all let me know.” With that he’s pulling you into a hug.

Admittedly it’s been a long while since you’ve hugged Tony and you missed it. It wasn’t much of a common occurrence but for him to now show his care for you through the action warms your heart.

Gentle pats to each other's backs make you pull away. You exchange a few words with Pepper who’s as sweet as she’s always been, making you promise to visit often, before hugging and then heading to the bar.

Much like every party you’d been to here, your eyes are met with the sight of an incredibly familiar redhead. Her hair is down, curls falling over her shoulders in complement to the fitting black dress she sports.

“Fancy seeing you here.” You instantly tease, leaning against the bartop.

Green eyes land on you, a large amount of restraint used to not let them linger your form,“ I figured if anyone would be serving you drinks tonight it should be me.” Red lips curl into a little smirk.

Head tilting ever so slightly as you smile a bit, you nod,“ than I’ll have the usual miss Romanoff.”

As she makes your drink, you’re approached by a number of people: Rhodey, Carol, Steve, Bucky, etc. Everyone makes mention of seeing you soon, wishing you luck, and promising to not be strangers. You’re hugged more now than you’ve ever been.

A coaster is placed right beside your arm, your usual sat on top in a glass.“ Enjoying all the attention Y/Ln?”

“In every way I’ll allow myself to yes.” You answer cryptically, knowing Natasha understands.

Martini glass raised to her lips, she takes a sip and maintains eye contact,“ if you need to step away feel free to find me,” another smirk,“ or if you need another drink.”

Walking away with her statement lingering in the air, Natasha ensures she doesn’t look back at you.

You chuckle softly, a slight shake of your head your way of accepting her small flirtatious comment. It’s Natasha, you expect nothing less.

Over the next few hours, surrounded by the people you’ve spent almost half your life with, stories are shared, jokes are told, and more memories are made. By the time you take Natasha up on her offer to step away, your stomach and face hurts from laughing and smiling seemingly too much.

The redhead eyes you while walking up the stairs,“ you’re not gonna die on me on the way up are you?” She teases about your rapid breaths and slightly flushed face.

“Are you implying you wouldn’t try to save me?” You quirk a brow.

The so-so tilt of her head makes your jaw drop and she laughs at you,“ you know I’d stop at nothing to ensure your safety Y/n.”

Her words make you smile softly and you goodnaturedly bump your shoulder against hers,“ ditto Romanoff.”

Your time on the roof with her is spent in scattered silence. Every so often one of you brings up a memory or some random topic. Reconnecting with her feels really good and it’s a shared sentiment, made known as the two of you turn to head back inside.

“Hey uh,” she reaches out, grabbing your hand and stopping you from walking further,“ I- I’m really going to miss you.”

Eyes softening, you think nothing of pulling her into a hug. Her arms wrap around your middle and yours take place around her shoulders. For the first time in years, Natsha’s head rests against your chest, ear pressed to your heartbeat.

“I’m gonna miss you too Tash.” Giving her a good squeeze, you pull back, still holding her shoulders,“ you make sure I get a wedding invite.”

Smiling softly, she nods, and hugs you once more.

After that things seemed to move faster than you’d wished. You say goodbye to everyone who’d come to see you off, grabbed the things you packed to take with you on your flight, and climbed onto the quinjet.

Wanda had insisted she be with you until she absolutely had to leave your side, which is why Sam offered to fly. The man now pilots the jet as you sit beside your best friend in the back.

Her body presses into your side, arms wrapped securely around you as you reciprocate her cuddle.

“I’m moving, not dying.” You joke lightly even though your emotions match hers exactly.

She sighs and snuggles closer as if that’s possible,“ I know but this is different than before. It’s permanent. No more random sleepovers and throwing popcorn at Bucky during movie nights. I won’t be able to have your breakfast in the morning or be able to train with you just to get distracted halfway through.”

The sigh you now give is just like hers,“ I mean, we’ll still be able to do that stuff, just not as frequently as we used to. I promise I’ll visit often.”

Your promise lingers in the air until you’re flying into National City. The closer the jet gets to the ground the more visible the awaiting black sedan. It pulls a smile to your face when you land and see the gorgeous woman waiting at the front of the car, her gaze clearly locked on the jet.

As the doors open and the jet sits idly, Sam gets up to help carry your bags and you stay back to have one more moment with Wanda.

“Call me when you guys get back home, kay?” You give the younger woman a pointed look and she nods.“ I told you I’d always be there for you and that won’t change cause I’m moving.”

She nods again,“ I know, I know.” Then pulls you into a tight hug, face buried against your chest like Natasha’s had hours ago.

“I love you Wan.” You whisper against her hair. Wanda replies with the same sentiment and a tight squeeze before stepping away.

From her you give Sam a quick hug, jokingly telling him not to waste the imbued bullets you’d left for him, and then back step as they climb back into the jet.

Reaching Lena’s side, the woman wastes no time slipping her hand into yours as you watch the jet take off.

It’s quiet for a moment, then Lena asks,“ you okay?”

You turn to face her and smile brightly,“ I am yeah.” Stepping closer, you rest your forehead against hers,“ I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Her voice is just as quiet is yours and she draws closer to kiss you passionately.

Having her lips against yours after a month sends a swirling feeling straight to your stomach and you sigh into the kiss.

“Let’s get home shall we?”

A simple nod later and you’re climbing into the car and pulling away from the private airstrip. The whole drive to Lena’s apartment, you damn near feel the excitement radiating off of her. From the way her hand squeezes yours to the taps of her fingers against the steering wheel and the little smile that seems permanently on her lips. Admittedly it makes you just as excited, seeing how clearly important it is to her that you’re here and moving in just makes your heart flutter.

Just when you think she can’t get any cuter, the instant you’re in the apartment a brilliant smile is on both your faces.

The usually calm and collected CEO takes you around the place in an adorably giddy mood, showing you all that she’d changed to insure you are comfortable moving in. She’d cleared off spaces on her bookshelves for you, converted one of her guest rooms to a mini lab/office just for you, and what she seemed most excited about, having cleared space in her closet and had a new dresser brought in for your clothes, plus making sure there was room for your things in the master bathroom.

Her words seemed to escape her faster than the Flash as she walked you through the entire place and showed you everything. You’d spent more time looking at her beautiful face, green eyes lighting up like stars, than you did actually paying attention to the tour of your new home. But you’ll have plenty of time to learn the place so it doesn’t matter.

Your welcome doesn’t stop there either. Once you both have unpacked your essentials, Lena has dinner, the usual takeout, and champagne waiting for you at the table. As you eat and indulge in more than a few glasses, you express your appreciation for all that she’d done and you both share in your excitement about this whole thing.

Laughter and smiles continue as you share about your little quirks and pet peeves when it comes to living with someone. There weren’t many and truthfully most of them were shared so you didn’t think this would end in flames.

All that excitement leads to pure nervousness as you both realize how tired you are. In the rush of it all, neither of you really gave thought to the fact that you’d be sharing a bed tonight. It seems as though you both try to procrastinate a bit, taking longer than needed to wash the dishes and bring in the last of your bags and having showers that go just a little too long.

By the time you're both ready, Lena is biting her lip nervously as you stand side by side staring at the large king size bed.

Silence sits far too long for your liking, resulting in a soft chuckle from you.

“Can we admit that we’re being a bit childish here?” You ask, looking over at her green orbs.

Seeing the light in your e/c ones and hearing your teasing tone make her laugh a little,“ yeah I guess we are.”

But when she doesn’t move you figure it’s on you, so furthering the childishness, you jump onto the bed. Bouncing back until you’re resting against the headboard, you pull the covers back and pat the other side of the mattress while looking at Lena.

“Let’s not lose sleep because we’re being awkward.”

At your words, she shakes her head and climbs into the very space you’d just patted. After you’re both comfortable under the cloud-like comforter, Lena presses a single button on the remote on her side table and the lights go out.

Another button push has the curtains drawing closed, the room going dark, aside from the slivers of moonlight.

It takes a couple hesitant twists and turns for you to find a position that's just right, only to realize that in a bed beside the woman you love, this position(facing the windows away from her) isn’t at all how you wish to sleep.

With a short inhale, you shift once more, turning around to face Lena who you find staring up at the ceiling. Subconsciously you bite your lip. It’s not lost on you how cliche it is to say that she looks breathtaking in the moonlight but you can’t possibly ignore it.

The white rays sneak through her curtains casting this incredibly angelic glow on to her skin. You’re so lost in her that you don’t even notice when she turns to look at you, that is until you look back up to her eyes and find that green you’ve grown to love staring right back.

“Am I being creepy?” You whisper into the silence inciting a quiet giggle from the woman.

She shakes her head,“ no you’re not.” Her eyes search your eyes and the cutest little frown and pout covers her face,“ what’s wrong?” Whatever she found made her ask.

“I don’t know. Nothing’s really wrong it’s just-” You pause to think of what to say and how to say it. Lena’s soft eyes remind you of how honest you can be with her, free of judgment, which leads to you blabbing what’s running through your head.“ I don’t want to make you uncomfortable but I can’t help but want to hold you or your hand at least. And I can’t just roll over and do that cause what if you don’t like to be held or you aren’t ready for-”

Your girlfriend, amidst your rambling, doesn't withhold her smile. She’s seen the confidence you hold while speaking to investors or members of “high ranking society”, she’s seen the incredibly sweet you that’s portrayed in your dealing with her friends and Wanda, and she’s obviously seen the nerdy side of you that could convert alien engine energy into clean reusable energy.

Each side of you she’d fallen in love with. And now she has the privilege of seeing this, slightly flustered and still partly dorky side, and falling in love all over again.

Mid rant, Lena scoots closer, runs her gentle fingers up your arm to cup your neck, and kisses you. The soft plump muscles melt against yours making you sigh in pure euphoria.

“I was talking too much huh?” You ask once having pulled away.

A chuckle falls against your lips from hers,“ not necessarily. I just found your rambling cute.” Heat rushes to your face at her admission.“ And for the record, I would love it if you held me.”

“Yeah?”

She nods and smiles softly before turning over, grabbing your arm, and lying it over her waist.

You take her consent and encouragement to scoot closer so as to press against her. Lena sighs happily at the soft warm breaths that fan her neck and wiggles ever closer, not that it’s possible.

It’s right there with your arms around her body that you wonder why you’d had any doubts to begin with and it’s in your arms that Lena sees how perfect this truly is.

* * * * * *

Taglist: @username23345 @depressed-bi-bitch @fayhar @trikruismybitch @marvel-wlw @aznblossom @chicken-wang09 @bitchtits15 @coxmicbabygirl @blackluthxr @starlingelliot @vxidnik

#lena luthor #lena luthor x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dcu #dcu x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #reader insert #all over again

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celesterunewhisper · 3 years

Text

Day 11 - Watch

Tik. Tik. Tik. The slow sounds of an unseen grandfather clock audibly marked the choking silence that engulfed the elaborate living room. On any other day, the room might have felt comforting, perhaps even welcoming; however, the tension that wove itself with that damn ticking almost made sitting in the room unbearable. In the center of the den, two large couches—red and gold in hue, as was the rest of the decor—were set facing each other with an elegant coffee table between them. Next to the couches, an oversized chair sat to meet the entire room, sitting there like a throne; the fireplace flickering behind the high-back chair only served to cast a menacing shadow over any who sat in it. Compared to the rest of the furniture, it was clear the chair was moved deliberately into the room for whatever purpose the mysterious gathering served. The rest of the decorations of artwork and statues were purely there to display the wealth of the Crimsonburn family. Sitting in the throne chair, a middle-aged Quel'dorei man gazed out at the crowd of three with his beady, contemplating blue eyes. His complexion was lined with not only age but experience in the thralls of stressful politics. He wore elaborate robes of red and maroon and had his white-blond hair slicked back for the occasion. Lord Norath Crimsonburn glanced to the two men on the couch to his left. The elder of the two—looking not too much older than Norath—had long straight black hair, partially braided to keep his bangs from his face sporting robes of violet and slate-gray. A younger man sported the same hues in attire and hair; however, he had his short and slicked back similar to the Lord of the house. “You have met my wife, Lady Larae Crimsonburn, Lord Velvetlight?” Norath then glanced to the woman on the opposite couch who was meek in appearance with short, curly red hair and gorgeous robes of crimson. He smirked when her matching blue eyes locked with his, only for her to look to the table with discomfort seconds later. It thrilled him to see her so obediently in her place. The raven-haired gentleman raised a dark brow at the Lord of the house. “Indeed. A fetching catch. However, it is your daughter, my son, and I wish to meet.”

“Her tardiness is unorthodox, I assure you. Perhaps, she is nervous about being among such distinguished companies.” Norath replied, his voice icy and uncomfortably calm. Lord Velvetlight simply sighed before reaching forward towards the coffee table. An array of refreshments rested upon the wooden surface, including snacks, tea, coffee, and wine. The guest Lord helped himself to a glass of the latter. A superb Dalarn red; year 450K.C, much before the wondrous city made its floating charge to Northrend. An expensive taste with the delicate bite of a lingering arcanic crisp. Not enough to quell Lord Velvetlight's patience, unfortunately. As if the swelling distaste was the perfect queue, a young elven woman was politely escorted into the room by a servant of the manor. Her short hair matched both the curliness of her mother's and the pale blonde hues of her father's, and just like her parents, the Crimsonburn colours painted her corsetted, victorian gown. The servant didn't stay long and left the young woman to linger awkwardly at the door; her blue eyes glanced to her father's with an apologetic expression. Norath smiled, yet no humour or kindness touched his eyes. “My daughter; Lady Celeste Crimsonburn. What a pleasure for you to have finally indulged us with your presence.” Celeste winced, immediately curtseying before Norath, with her head low, “My apologies, father,” she spoke carefully, turning her attention to the two guests in their home. “I thank you for your patience, my Lords.” Her politeness was useless at this point; she had already disappointed Norath to irreparable levels that night. But, she still had a role in maintaining, lest she made it worse for herself. “Take a seat, Celeste,” Norath instructed cooly. “You remember Lord Velvetlight, don't you?” Truthfully, Celeste did not. However, she forced herself to dig through her memories in an effort not to embarrass herself further. She took a shot in the dark. “You...were a guest speaker at Sunstrider University. You taught a lecture for my Introduction to Political Theory class.” As she spoke, attempting to sound confident in her answer, she sat beside her silent mother. “Ah, so you do remember. Excellent.” Lord Velvetlight looked pleased. “I also met you in your adolescent years, but I do not expect you to remember something eighty years ago.” There was a momentary pause as the Lord took a sip of his wine. “I would like to introduce to you my son, Lord Zan Velvetlight. A proud Magister of Quel'thalas and Scryer under the ranks of Astalor Bloodsworn's trusted Arcanists.” Zan stood to his feet to bow towards Celeste, “A pleasure, my Lady.” Instinctively, Celeste held her hand towards the expecting man, to which he took and placed a gentlemanly kiss upon it. She was used to such gestures with her family's position in the noble hierarchy; however, she could never bring herself to enjoy that flavour of attention. It took everything in her power not to grimace as Zan retook his seat. “The pleasure is mine, Lord Zan.” “Celeste, why don't you elaborate for Lord Velvetlight more about your education,” Norath commented in a thinly veiled order. “Yes, indeed,” Lord Velvetlight began, “I am very interested in hearing more about the daughter Lord Crimsonburn has been raving about.” Celeste rose a brow at the strangeness of the conversation, and she couldn't help but glance at her mother for answers. However, when Larae met her daughter's gaze, her bright eyes glazed over with sadness. For some reason, the woman could not bring herself to speak out of turn and left her daughter to the thralls of confusion. “Right,” Celeste breathed, now looking to Lord Velvetlight—vividly aware of her father's icy gaze boring down on her while she spoke. “I have been studying the economics of the country primarily. Provincial stabilization, governance, representation through the monarchy, and the delicate balance of power and influence.” She took a deep breath, “I hope to follow in my father's footsteps of becoming a member of King Sunstrider's advocates.” This, of course, was an utter lie. “Ah, such high expectations. So much in common with my son.” Lord Velvetlight hummed with satisfaction. Zan spoke to provide context to his father's statement. “I hope to enlist within the Kirin Tor eventually. Put more experience under my belt to either rise further with the Magisters of Quel'thalas or, perhaps, a cozy seat on the council of the Magus Senate.” Arrogance coated his tongue as he spoke a matter of factly. Celeste forced an interested smile to her face and spoke with perfunctory attentiveness. “How do you not burn yourself out from such strenuous tasks?” Zan's ego predictably inflated as he smirked with bottomless pride towards Celeste. “Because I am superior. Other low-lives let opportunities pass them by, while intellectual men must rise to guide this wayward Kingdom. I intend to learn all I can to do so.” Celeste felt her blood run cold as her smile faltered. “Ah—your...father is right about...sharing high ambitions, then. I suppose.” Another lie. She wanted nothing more than to leave both the conversation and company. Norath spoke up once more, “It is as I said, Lord Velvetlight. It would be a flawless arrangement that will benefit both sides of the political spectrum. We must act upon the traditions of the monarchy's system before the ambitious Prince threatens to change the whole thing. What with that Theron whispering in his ear.” “Father, what are you talking about—” Celeste began. “You will speak when you are spoken to.” Norath snapped. Then turning back to Lord Velvetlight, he continued as if the outburst never happened. “What say you?” “Zan?” Lord Velvetlight glanced to his son, asking a vague question Celeste still did not understand the context of. The younger lord gave Celeste a once-over before smirking. “I find it both an excellent strategy and a rather lovely match. I agree to Lord Crimsonburn's proposition if you are inclined to act upon it, father.” Lord Velvetlight smiled. “Then our deal has been settled. The ceremony will be scheduled for the end of the month as planned.” “Perfect.” Norath grinned. “I have already arranged for their housing, as well. A gift for the new family, hm?” Lord Velvetlight chuckled, “So generous, my Lord.” Zan bowed his head, “I generously accept, Lord Crimsonburn.” Norath stood to his feet, and the other two lords followed suit. “A rather short meeting, but I understand you and your son are rather busy this evening.” “It has been a pleasure, Lord Crimsonburn. Till the ceremony, then.” And soon, Celeste was alone in the den with her father. Her mother couldn't bear to be in the room any longer, and she still didn't understand why. Norath gestured his hand silently towards Celeste, allowing her to speak freely. “What was that all about, father?” “We plan on uniting our causes together, Lord Velvetlight and I. The details are none of your concern, but we came up with an ideal way to permanently seal our partnership. A bargaining chip, if you must.” Norath responded as if Celeste's question was foolish. “What was the bargaining chip?” she asked hesitantly. “You, my dear,” Norath said. “You are.” The silence was almost deafening if it wasn't for that rhythmic ticking. “I beg your pardon?” Her voice was almost inaudible. Norath sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ignorant girl. You are to wed Lord Zan. What did you think I meant when I said 'ceremony'?” His blue eyes narrowed at his daughter. Celeste's jaw nearly dropped to the floor; however, she closed it quickly before her father sneered. “Wait,” she breathed, “I just met him. I don't even know him!” “Frankly, my dear, I couldn't care less if you loved him or hated him. This is out of your control.” “You can't make me marry a stranger!” she shouted, standing to her feet. Norath was swifter than Celeste anticipated, and as he stood to his feet as well, the back of his ringed hand made contact with his daughter's cheek with an audible slap. Her face jerked to the side from the force, and her hands immediately went to cup the welt with a shaking whimper. “I can.” Norath towered over his trembling daughter. “Just watch.”

@daily-writing-challenge @howlingowl-wra

#celeste runewhisper #before sin'dorei AND ren'dorei transformation #arranged marriage time #the past

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shimmershae · 3 years

Text

Just a few random thoughts and observations about Daryl’s Origins episode.

Basically my stream of consciousness bullshit brought over from Twitter, lol. I almost didn’t watch the episode after seeing all the drama over there, but ultimately I decided to because frankly? I don’t trust certain fans’ perceptions of events. For reasons. It’s best, I feel, to always watch with your own eyes and form your own independent opinions because this fandom is teeming with people that delight in tormenting other fans by being very selective and oftentimes downright misrepresentative about what they pass along.

More under the cut because this is random and all over the place and basically excerpts of my live blogging while watching the special. Did I mention it’s random?

You know. It sure would be nice not going into one of these things so apprehensive. Maybe one day, hmm?

First things first. From the very beginning of this Origins episode, I’m reminded of two things: 1). Our introduction to Daryl, his colorful Dixonese, and his particular brand of humor certainly stands out as one of show's more memorable introductions. 2). TWD certainly regressed on the deer front. I mean. Daryl's deer>Richonne's deer.

I’m never going to get over "On Golden Pond." Never ever and look. I actually liked Dale but Daryl spitting those words at him still makes me laugh until I'm weak.

Daryl's still searching all these years later. Or is he? Really? Seems to me the man's found exactly what he's been looking for and he's been chasing it since he came back from those woods: a future with his soulmate. The one that happens to be his best friend. OFC, I’m talking about Carol. Who else?

How pretty and soft are baby Daryl and Carol? Too pretty and soft for this tired heart to withstand. Like I love all versions of them, but baby Daryl and Carol just hit different.

My immediate thought re: the Beth comment-- Misreads the situation? WTF? Whoever wrote this script just had to re-inject some eww into the narrative didn't they? All those damn dirty spoons. Ever think about how much it probably reeks in that office space?

Moving along, though. Here’s some real facts. Carol is so intrinsically woven into the fabric of Daryl's story, the only way she can be removed is if they are literally both destroyed and cease to exist. Something happens to Carol? The man is going to be a reanimated body without a heartbeat. Basically a Walker.

An aside, I know they're not making me rewatch a scene I haven't watched since the first time it aired. The way Negan's head bashing tendencies had me seeing red and wanting that barbed wire bat shoved up his ass every time I saw his face. My JDM love really took a serious hit for awhile. I'm never going to forgive the character that hateful act. I just can't.

Somehow I wasn't expecting this to be a teleprompter-fest. Like who wrote this script? Hmm. Sorry. Don't mind me. Lost in my thoughts per usual. You know. It still strikes me as hella insensitive that Rick had Daryl leading the Sanctuary community knowing what he suffered there. There's no way Daryl would have returned that kind of favor.

Yep. Leah still feels tacked on last minute. A means to an end. Sigh. They completely glossed her over here. Too bad they had that lapse in judgment with some other toxic waste. I cannot believe they touched that with a ten foot pole. It's just cringe-worthy and wrong.

"Daryl can't say no to Carol." They say those words and I’m like “Join the club, my dude. Join the club, lol.”

You know. All the Carol-related moments in this Daryl Dixon recap speak for themselves. She's his person, dammit.

Okay though. That reunion in the tall grass with the sun shining on them all golden and picturesque, after Alpha’s taken Daryl to show him her horde? That's some romance novel shit right there. "Look at me. Just look at me." I'm never going to recover from that moment or the discovery of Sophia. They break my heart so.

This recap is literally 2/3's Carol and the other 1/3 Rick and everybody else. I mean. It's so obvious. Utterly and completely misrepresented by some agenda-driven folks.

"We have a future." Oh. Just some pretty, meaningless words you say everyday to all your friends, lol. Just friends my whole entire ass.

"I'm never gonna hate you." Okay, AMC. Back up all the talk with some action that even the most willfully blind cannot deny, m'kay? Because they're not going to buy it until you're explicit about it. Just saying.

The amount of times "Carol" has left this man's mouth during this recap, lol, and some people keep wanting to ignore it.

Aww. Guess who they showed when Daryl mentioned family? How sweet. And when they mentioned purpose in connection with C0nnie, it was not any indication of romance, IMHO.

Let me explain.

By the time C0nnie is lost, Daryl’s floundering because he feels he hasn’t been able to help Carol despite giving it all and pushing back his previously established comfort zone(s). Enter these pair of sisters. And they put him in mind of the good parts of him and Merle. Probably they make him remember the Greene girls when things were good and hopeful before they went sideways. In some small way, he’s probably reminded of other family units like Rick and Carl and Lori and Carol and Sophia and later Henry. And all of those people have something in common. Well, besides being people Daryl has known and cared for. They’ve seen their family units fractured and/or destroyed by tragedies wrought by the world they live in. They made a point and emphasized that Daryl’s a searcher and also that family matters to him. In some way or form he’s been doing his best to help repair or reunite all these different family members since the beginning and ultimately he’s failed to succeed each time. So yeah. He’s been given a purpose in a time of uncertainty again with her because this time he’s determined to get it right. This time he wants to bring the two sisters back together the way he couldn’t do for the Greene girls. Like I did not, do not read anything romantic at all into that comment. Just my take on things. Obviously, everyone else’s mileage may vary. I’ll step off my soapbox now. Hopefully, maybe these words might comfort.

So relax, lovelies. It wasn't as bad as I feared. Sure, they could have left that one icky comment out but they didn't and honestly? I don't think it's a positive for that particular 'relationship' because it's something that's brought up to show just how messed up Daryl was. Because grown men that have their heads on straight don't usually have those type of misreads. They know they are inappropriate. Like I'm not putting Daryl into the pedo category because I don't feel like he belongs there. But I can see how him being so emotionally stunted and naive so far as interpersonal relationships and the nuances of friendship and non-toxic family could lend itself to him maybe reading more into those moments than were really there and not really knowing how to deal.

Whoever wrote that teleprompter script though? That particular asshole is probably grinning like a donkey with a mouth full of briars at all the unnecessary drama they stirred up yet again. Like newsflash, goober. There are better ways to foster interest in your show.

They should hire a team of fans to do the promotion. Fans that represent all factions of this fractured fandom so the promotion is well-rounded and not so heavily slanted toward any one of them but the diverse fandom as a whole.

Stop fanning the stupid ship wars and just celebrate the damn characters and the overall story. Nothing new or groundbreaking to see on this first Origins story but hey. Who doesn't mind a decent recap now and then? That said, don't sweat not having AMC+ or feel like you missed all that much because you didn't.

I do have to say. Them pretending B3th was the first girl to be nice to Daryl really had me going WTF.

I mean, there’s this little exchange from Carol, the first woman to be nice to Daryl, probably the first person from the group--

"You're every bit as good as them. Every bit."

AMC? TWD? Do you even watch your own show?

There you have it. My bullshit stream of consciousness, originally posted over on Twitter as I liveblogged the show. Hope you got something helpful or of entertainment value from this.

Goodnight, lovelies.

Until next time.

#The Walking Dead #The Walking Dead: Origins #Daryl Dixon #things that make me smile and cry #for reasons

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pengychan · 3 years

Text

[Coco] Mind the Gap, Pt. 23

Title: Mind the Gap Summary: Modern Day AU. Tired of Ernesto’s snide remarks, Imelda decides to put him in his place and her husband is more than happy to help. It was supposed to be a one-night deal. Things quickly get out of hand. [OT3, mostly porn and humor. Plenty of instances of Ernesto being Dramatic, Imelda getting Sick Of His Shit, and Héctor trying to be the peacekeeper. Don’t expect anything serious.] Pairings: Ernesto/Héctor/Imelda Rating: Explicit.

Art by @swanpit.

[All chapters are tagged as ‘mind the gap’ on my blog.]

A/N: Long overdue make-up sex? Long overdue make-up sex. Only the epilogue left before this is all wrapped up!

***

“... I need water.”

“Seconded.”

“Thirded.”

Silence. Some shuffling.

“Well, who’s going?”

“I’m not. I went and got Coco back to sleep when she cried. Did my part.”

“I am not getting off this couch.”

“If you make me go, I’m only getting water for myself.”

“I hate you both.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Uugh. No, I don’t.” Ernesto groans, rubbing his eyes before dropping his head back against the couch’s backrest. He grimaces towards the kitchen. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Three in the morning.”

“What! Where has the evening gone!”

“Where has the entire day gone, we began discussing this over lunch,” Héctor mutters, laying upside-down with his legs over the backrest.

He is not wrong, really: they have quite literally spent half a day and much of the night discussing where to go from there. They talked through lunch, through the afternoon with Coco passing from one set of arms to another whenever she was not napping, talked while Héctor changed her diapers with a frequency Ernesto found frankly concerning given the child’s small size. They took a brief break from talking while walking their dogs - best to be careful with their words outside - and feeding Coco respectively.

More talking ensued as they put Coco in her playpen to watch a cartoon, as they cooked dinner, as they ate it, as Coco fell asleep cuddled up to Pepita while the dogs watched with envy from outside the playpen, with Dante having finally learned that trying to jump in would spell disaster.

They discussed everything they could possibly discuss - their arrangement, how it could work going forward, whether to tell Coco, what to tell Coco once she was old enough, how to keep it private business without having to actively hide, what family members could be told and what family members could never - coming to the agreement Imelda’s brothers were probably the only ones who could be trusted, at the moment, to possibly know if it came to it.

“I never thought I’d see the day I had to say they can be trusted over our father,” Imelda said as she disappeared to put a very sleepy Coco in her crib, and Héctor and Ernesto were still snickering at the idea when she came back. They sat on the couch with a drink, resumed talking, and never stopped except for the time Coco began crying and had to be soothed by a very concerned Héctor.

Until, of course, exhaustion and thirst caught up with them at three in the damn morning.

“So, I’m going to be the waiter from now on,” Ernesto mutters, just a little dramatically, as he finally gets off the couch to fetch everyone some water. He guzzles down a glass, fills two more, and brings them back. Héctor and Imelda drink just as greedily while he flops back down on the couch, exhausted and honestly still absolutely stunned.

“... This is-- is this really happening?” he finds himself asking, very quietly. Part of him fears this is all a dream, that he will wake up alone in his bed to find none of this has really transpired. The other two pause, look back down at him - and maybe Ernesto let something vulnerable show a bit too much, because suddenly they’re both leaning down with the clear intention of giving him a kiss. Exactly at the same time.

With predictable results.

Bonk.

“Ow!” Imelda yelps, wincing back.

“Agh! Oh God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--” Héctor frets. Imelda just slaps a hand over her mouth to stifle laughter, which just comes out of her nose with a honking sound. Ernesto just laughs, his own head unscathed but oddly light. Yes, this is happening. He couldn't have dreamed up something so stupid if he’d tried.

It is happening, he thinks. We’re giving this a chance, he thinks. For the love of God don’t fuck it up, he tells himself, but says none of those things aloud. He just laughs until he has to catch his breath and it dies down in a snicker. That’s when Imelda leans down to kiss him briefly, this time without bumping her head against Héctor’s.

“I think that means we’re officially too tired to function,” she says. “Let’s go to bed.”

Ah. Right. It is three in the morning. Ernesto clears his throat and sits up. “Of course-- I’ll drop by after lunch, then, so we can go rehearse--”

Imelda pinches his earlobe. “Who said anything about you leaving?” she asks, an eyebrow raised. Ernesto’s words die in his throat.

Right. Yes. This is happening.

Not that anything physical is going to happen just yet. They are all much too tired to do anything other than shuffling into the bedroom as quietly as they can - “whoever wakes her up has to calm her down”, Imelda threatens - and changing their night clothes - it is odd, finding one of his nightshirts still in their closet, washed and neatly folded - before they flop on the bed.

At least, Ernesto and Héctor flop down on it. Imelda is decidedly more dignified, and leans down between them. Héctor pulls her close, and immediately holds out the other arm for Ernesto with a grin. Part of him is still wondering if he’s dreaming this, really, but when he slides closer, leaning against Imelda’s body with Héctor’s arm around him, again he knows he will not awaken alone after all. He smiles.

“Your arms are freakishly long,” he mutters, very romantically, causing Héctor to snort.

“Oh, thanks, amigo,” he mutters, but his hand keeps resting on Ernesto’s side. “Don’t hear you complain when I give the best hugs ever given.”

“That’s debatable, who decided it is you to give--”

“I said--” Imelda cuts him off, then yawns. Loudly, and without bothering to put up a hand against her mouth. “Sleep,” she mumbled, settling her head back down, forehead against Héctor’s chest and one hand resting on Ernesto’s forearm around her waist. It’s not clear whether it’s an order or just a declaration of what she’s about to do, but they do take it as an order.

They are, after all, exhausted. There will be time to marvel over getting all of this back in the morning; for now, Ernesto leans down his head, closes his eyes, and sleeps basking in their warmth.

***

They get to sleep a grand total of two hours and a half before they awaken to a chorus of wailing, barking, yapping and yowling. It’s hard to tell what started first - Ernesto apparently would put money on the wailing, though Imelda is ready to counter-bet a chihuahua yapped first - but the fact stays, someone needs to go put an end to it before half the condo is at the door with murderous intentions.

Thankfully, Héctor is out of bed almost immediately. He’s still sleepy and misses the door the first time, hitting the wall before stumbling out with a murmured ‘I’m fine’ to go make sure no horrid monster has attacked Coco in her crib. In his haste he leaves the door open, and two chihuahuas as well as the cat rush in, with the small dogs yapping and trying without success to jump up on the bed.

The other two as well as Dante clearly decided to stay behind and watch Héctor’s baby-soothing operation. Imelda stifles a yawn, bringing a hand up to her mouth. “Those dogs are not allowed on the bed,” she says the instant Ernesto moves to pick them up, just as Pepita jumps to settle down next to her head.

Ernesto scowls. “That’s favoritism,” he points out, and a little monster yaps as though to agree. One of them whines, clearly trying to move her into relenting. Imelda remains entirely unmoved.

“Pepita is clean,” she replies, reaching over to scratch Pepita behind the ears. Her green eyes, fixed on Ernesto, narrow. Hard to tell whether it is in pleasure for the ear scratch or in displeasure for the man back on her owners’ bed, but if it’s the latter, she will have to get used to it.

Ernesto makes a face. “I can’t imagine it’s hygienic.”

“She grooms herself for hours on end--”

“With her it tongue, that’s not cleaning a thing--”

“Well, it’s more than dogs do. I have only ever seen them use their dogs only ever use their tongues to lick--”

“They’re clean! I bathe them every week!“

Imelda blinks. In the next room over, Coco’s wails are quieting down. “... You do?”

“With a very expensive dog shampoo, too. I advertised it on my Instagram account - I mean, their Instagram account. Didn’t you see?”

Ah. That. “I think I unfollowed both when we-- broke things off,” Imelda admits, causing Ernesto to frown. “It stung,” she adds quickly. “Seeing you.”

“Ah.” He clears his throat. “Well, I-- I haven’t been posting a lot, so you haven’t missed much. Should get back to it. I think the dogs have more followers than I do at this point.”

“Well, they are cute. I suppose,” Imelda concedes. Pepita jumps off the bed, clearly satisfied with her dose of scritches, and is followed outside by both chihuahuas. Imelda props herself up on her elbow. “You should try with shirtless photos,”she adds. It’s mostly meant as a joke, but Ernesto is clearly considering it.

“I already posted plenty. And a couple where I was only wearing a--”

“I mean, more shirtless photos,” Imelda rectifies, very much aware of what photos he is referring to. Unlike Héctor, whose social media accounts are bereft of any sign of life aside for the occasional photo of a guitar, a music sheet, or Imelda going over his latest work, Ernesto is very much active and not precisely trying to disguise the fact his sexuality is ‘yes’.

“I guess I could take a trip to the beach for a few more shots, after we’re back from Santa Cecilia...” he muses, and Imelda is about to ask if they’re meant to join him for that trip to the beach when Héctor walks back in, a triumphant grin on his face and phone in hand.

“She’s sleeping! Look!” he whisper-exclaims, and gets right back in bed between them before he proceeds to show them thirty identical photos of Coco sleeping. “Isn’t she the most beautiful little girl?”

“She is,” Imelda agrees with a small grin, leaning her chin on Héctor’s shoulder. “Not that I’m biased or anything.”

Ernesto scoffs. “You absolutely are.”

“Not everyone is your mamá, Ernesto,” Héctor snickers, elbowing him. “Telling everyone within earshot how handsome you were going to be once you shed your baby fat.”

“Well she was right, I did turn out-- what! She never said that, pendejo!” He huffs, giving Héctor’s shoulder a shove that almost sends him flying off the bed. He laughs it off, flopping back down.

“She did too, Ernestito! Heard with my own ears!”

“Mph. Your stupid elephant ears.”

Héctor’s expression turns coy. “Ah, what can I say, it’s my cross to bear. Much like a dick a couple of inches longer than yours…”

“It’s not, Héctor!”

“Is too! We checked with Imelda’s measuring tape, remember?”

“... You did what with my measuring tape now?”

“We had a disagreement to settle, mi amor.”

“And we found it’s-- maybe an inch longer! At most! And mine is thicker, too!”

“Oh no, it was longer than that. Need me to refresh your memory?”

“We can arrange that, if you let me catch another couple of hours of sleep,” Imelda mutters, causing the squabble to die down. There is some grumbling, a few more shoves, but soon enough they’re all settled to sleep again, basking in the warmth and enjoying blissful silence.

For another fifty minutes.

***

“Oh my God!”

“Gah!”

“Wha--??”

Héctor barely catches himself before he falls off the bed, flailing his arms and only narrowly missing Imelda’s face. He reaches to turn on the bedside lamp, and sits up to look over to the other side of the bed where Ernesto is sitting upright, hair tousled, a horrified expression on his face as though he just awakened from the worst nightmare a human mind can conceive.

“Ernesto? What is it?” Imelda is asking, concern plain in her voice. She puts a hand on Ernesto’s forearm and he looks back at them, eyes wide and skin ashen.

“Oh my God, ” he repeats. “My mother has seen my Instagram.”

Ah, Héctor thinks.

“Ah,” he says, mind already wandering to some photos that are probably not meant for the eyes of one’s own mother.

“Oh,” Imelda repeats, clearly thinking the same.

They succeed in staying serious for almost five seconds before Héctor cracks, and Imelda is quick to follow.

“Pffft…”

“Heh…”

“She has been looking up my account for ages-- she even mentioned it, I had forgotten-- what if my father-- stop laughing!” his voice comes out a whine, and it’s what entirely undoes them. “This is serious! Stop laughing! I’ll have to look her in the eye when we go back for Coco’s christening! I-- uuugh!” Ernesto lets himself drop back on the pillow with a groan, covering his face with an arm. “I hate you both.”

“No, you do not.” Héctor grins down at him and, while Ernesto scoffs, he fails to say otherwise.

“If she brings it up, I will dig myself a grave and crawl in it.”

Imelda snickers, leaning across his chest. “If they’re that terrible I don’t think she’ll want to bring them up.”

He pulls his arm off his eyes, frowning a little. “Not that I’m naked in those photos, I’m not an idiot, but I--” he trails off with a sudden intake of breath when Imelda’s hand slips beneath his nightshirt, across his chest. Héctor sits back a moment, watching them - Imelda’s tousled hair and the strap of the nightgown falling off her shoulder, the way Ernesto arches a little at her touch.

It’s not the most alluring sight he’s ever laid his eyes on, but it comes pretty close - and it hits him suddenly, the realization that they have this again. It leaves a lump in his throat and a dumb smile spreading on his face while he watches Imelda lean in and kiss Ernesto’s lips. When they break apart, Ernesto’s breathing is quicker and his eyes wide.

Imelda grins, and tugs at his nightshirt. “Since we clearly are getting no more sleep this morning, would you mind getting this out of the way and let me take your mind off your mother going through embarrassing Instagram photos?”

Ernesto is sitting up and pulling the shirt up over his head before she’s even done speaking, but he doesn’t get to take it off - not before Héctor moves suddenly to pull them both in his arms, and squeeze tight.

“Agh!”

“What the--”

“Really?”

“And here I was trying to be seductive,” Imelda mutters, face pressed against Héctor’s chest.

“It was a very good effort,” Ernesto informs her, head still tangled in the shirt.

“Thanks.”

“Unfortunately, you married an idiot.”

“Oh, like you didn’t stick to the idiot long before I got him to put a ring on it.”

“What can I say, I felt bad for him.”

“... You guys realize I can hear you, right?”

“No doubt you can, with those ears,” Ernesto mutters, voice still muffled by the shirt wrapped around his head. “Can you let me go now?”

“Do I have to?”

“If you want us to get anything done before Coco needs breakfast, yes,” Imelda says against his chest. “Now, if you’d let go and fetch the lube and condoms…” she adds, and Héctor is off them and across the room so fast he almost topples on the floor.

With most of his blood flow already getting redirected in his nether regions, Ernesto’s power of thought may not be at his highest. However, as he gets the shirt off his head and throws it off the side of the bed, he does pause a moment to think. Or try to. Something is definitely different.

“Condoms? Not on the pill anymore?”

“Not yet. It already failed, anyway, and I really am not ready for another little miracle. At least if the condom breaks we’ll notice right away.” She reaches up to brush back his hair, and leans against him. She is warm against his bare chest, her lips so close to Ernesto’s own. Her nails rake lightly down the back of his neck, and he swallows. “But it shouldn’t happen, if you know how to put one on properly.”

He makes a face. “Well, of course I know how to put on a--” Ernesto begins, and then trails off. The amount of blood going straight to his cock is making it very hard to think about anything else, but he’s not yet so far gone he can’t catch the meaning of her words. He stares at Imelda, mouth hanging open.

There are...few things they did not at least experiment with throughout the relationship, but at no point did Ernesto get to be in her. Not with his cock, anyway. It simply never happened, Ernesto would think, but he knows deep down that was not it. It was a line Imelda did not want to cross, the one that marked the difference between her husband and the annoying-- acquaintance -- friend turned unlikely lover. Something Héctor could have while he could not. Until now.

He should try and play it cool, of course. Get cocky and say he’s glad she changed her mind there, she has no idea what she has missed out on. Instead, he sputters.

“What-- are you-- sure?”

Imelda’s expression turns coy, a finger running down his chest. “Well, if you’re afraid to disappoint…”

What!

“What!” Ernesto huffs, crossing his arms. “For your information, I never disappoint.”

“Sofía told me otherwise.”

“Sofía should mind her own-- wait a moment, since when are the two of you on gossiping terms?” he asks, just a hint of panic making it to his voice as he tries to run the numbers on the amount of ammunition Sofía may have to use against him. Unaware of his worry, or maybe all too aware of it and hiding it very well, Imelda shrugs.

“She ordered a pair of shoes and we got talking.”

Talking about what, Ernesto wants to ask, but before he can open his mouth Héctor is back on the bed and kissing his shoulder, causing him to trail off and his breath to catch a moment.

“Here,” Héctor smiles against his skin, pressing a condom in his hand. “Put it to good use, we have no others left until we restock.”

Despite the rising heat, his own quickening breath and the by now unbearable friction of underwear on his erection, Ernesto raises an eyebrow. “That busy, even with the baby?”

“Not really. It’s that Dante found the box.”

“Ah.”

“Yes, ah. The vet judged me the entire time. Not that he said anything, but--”

“... Surely we can have this conversation another time?” Imelda intervenes, tapping her fingers against Ernesto’s chest in a motion that is… a little more annoyed than seductive now. Héctor blushes a little, and gives a sheepish grin.

“Heh. Right,” he says, and without warning he suddenly pushes Ernesto forward, causing him to fall over on top of Imelda. He barely catches himself, hands braced against the mattress, and almost protests - but then he looks down to see Imelda leaning on her back beneath him, head between his arms and hair spread across the pillow. Her skin is flushed, and ah, the way she looks at him. If one could bottle that look to sell it, they’d make billions.

“I can’t help but feel I’m terribly overdressed for the occasion,” she tells him, and starts unbuttoning her nightgown. She barely makes it to half the buttons before Ernesto’s mouth comes down on hers, hard. She melts into the kiss in a way he cannot recall her ever doing before, fingers tangling in his hair and Christ - Christ - it is almost worth the long months without them, waking up in his own bed.

Ah, it’s good to be home.

“Ah--” Imelda sighs and throws back her head while Ernesto’s mouth trails down her throat, to her breasts. He only stops with a startled gasp against her nipple when a pair of familiar hands pull off his boxers, and a very familiar finger begins to probe as him, slick with lube.

“Oh, don’t mind me back here,” Héctor calls out, and Ernesto can almost feel the grin in his voice when he slides the finger in, slowly but without hesitation, getting another gasp out of Ernesto he barely muffles against Imelda’s skin. “Want me to put on the condom for you while I’m at it? You look busy,” he adds. His other hand closes on Ernesto’s cock in a soft squeeze, and he almost cries out.

“Christ-- don’t do that!” he pants, suddenly terrified he’s going to just come like that, before anything can happen. Héctor chuckles, but does pull back the hand. The other hand pushes in another finger, sending more shivers up his back. God, he’s shaking - this is bliss, never enough and yet too much, how can he possibly hold himself together?

“That horny?” Héctor asks lightly, as though conversing over a glass of wine. Ernesto snarls.

“I’m about to fuck your wife, what do you think?”

“Ah, good point.”

Beneath him Imelda, who somehow managed to unbutton the rest of her nightgown and shrug it off, laughs and forces his head back by the hair to kiss his mouth. He doesn’t resist - how can he resist? - and only lets out a noise of surrender. The finger within him retreats and Héctor is leaning across his back, putting the condom on him with surprisingly delicate fingers. His own cock presses against Ernesto’s thigh, hard and hot and already slick with lube. When he pulls back, Ernesto lets out a whine.

“Don’t bother with fingers,” he groans. “I can take it-- por favor--”

A kiss on the back of his neck, just as Imelda’s mouth presses on his throat. She has a leg on either side of Ernesto, and his cock brushes against the warm skin on the inside of her thigh. It is only a soft brush, but it’s almost unbearable on heated flesh. He lets out a shuddering breath, and glances down to meet her eyes.

Are you sure?, he asks without words, and Imelda responds just as wordlessly, pulling his mouth down on hers and arching beneath him. Whatever shred of self-control Ernesto had left is annihilated and he kisses her back, frantic, before pushing his hips forward purely out of instinct and oh--

He slides in so easily and for a long, blissful moment, Ernesto forgets how to breathe or move or think. There is only that tight heat, Imelda’s scent in his nostrils and her breath against the side of his neck as she clenches around him - the soft moan filling his ears and the nails sinking in the skin of his shoulders.

And then Héctor is bearing down on him, mouth on the back of his neck and weight across his back, pushing into him unbearably slowly and all too fast at once. Everything is too much. Nothing is enough. He wants and needs and yearns and yet it’s everything he could possibly ask for, and more.

As much as he enjoyed the strap-on and Héctor’s ass, this might just be the best variation of Ernesto sandwich he’s ever had.

“Pepita got your tongue?” Héctor chuckles against his ear, settling deep into him, resting his chin on his shoulder and glancing over at Imelda. “You good?” he breathes. Imelda lifts her head to kiss his lips. Her skin is flushed, eyes half-lidded.

“Oh, yes,” she says, and kisses Ernesto’s neck again. “You are thicker, I’ll give you that,” she whispers, perfectly audible to Héctor, whose chuckling protests are not very believable. Her hand cups Ernesto’s cheek, her fingers calloused from working leather. “Don’t worry about a thing,” she murmurs, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone. “We’ll take good care of you.”

“Christ--” Ernesto pants, and manages to lift himself up on his elbows just enough to get some weight off her, and rest his forehead on hers. He’s so acutely aware of everything - the smoothness of her skin and Héctor’s chest hair against his back, her hand cupping his cheek and his chin on his shoulder, the heat around his cock and the cock in him. “I don’t know-- how long I can last,” he manages to admit.

“Ah, don’t worry about that, amigo,” Héctor speaks, and tilts his hips, sending a jolt of pleasure up Ernesto’s spine and tearing a gasp out of him. “Wouldn’t be the first time. And we can do this whenever we wish…”

He says something else after that, or Imelda does, but none of their words makes it to Ernesto’s brain. They start moving in tandem, in him and around him and on him and beneath, and it is all that Ernesto can think of or feel. It is all he wants to feel right now.

The moans that leave him are louder than advisable, with Coco sleeping just a couple of rooms over, but Imelda is quick to muffle any noise he makes with a kiss. Good move, that.

None of them is in the right state of mind to go soothe a cranky baby, after all.

***

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#pixar coco #hector rivera #ernesto de la cruz #imelda rivera #coco #mind the gap

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