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trumpkinhotboy · 2 years ago

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Lean on me

Pairing: Twin Brother!Nick Nelson x Twin sister!Reader

Type: Request (thank you so much!!)

Genre: Angst that ends with a lot of fluff

Warnings: Sexual Assault situation. Although the details aren't of extreme nature, it can still be a hard thing to read for some people, so be careful <33

Rating: 13+ (because of SA)

Word count: ~ 4600

Requests: Open! For Heartstopper, twilight wolfpack, chronicles of narnia and harry potter

A/n: I was really inspired for this fic and it took me quite some time to write it. I hope you will enjoy protective brother nick nelson and the fluff with the Paris gang as much as I do. If you have any requests feel free to message me !!

A/n pt.2: Please don't come for me for my summary, I fucking hate writing those xoxo

*gif is not mine!!

Summary: The reader goes to a party without her twin brother, Nick. Through different circonstances, she ends up dancing with someone who might have not rightfully earned her trust. The situation quickly escalates to horrible heights. She will have no other choice, but to learn how to defend herself, and how to lean on the people who matters for her.

Your heart is racing, your eyes are burning, and silent tears stream down your face. You rest on the threshold of the door you've just exited from. You can't grasp and even begin to process what just happened. You look up, hearing your name being called from afar. It feels like you're in a different dimension. Everywhere you look, reality seems distorted by some filter. Finally, you focus on your mother's face. She's sitting in her little car, window down, waving at you. Automatically, your body starts walking toward the car, but mentally you are elsewhere. In a dark corridor up in this horrible mansion. Trapped.

Your heart beats in a thumping rhythm as you cross the threshold of the mansion. Music is blasting out at an alarmingly loud volume with the place already packed.

You try to calm your breathing and to remember you were invited and belong here as much as anybody else. The few people you cross paths with wave at you. You smile back, trying to look confident and relaxed. The image of collected cool.

Even though there's actually a weight dropping in your stomach.

You are, after all, Nick Nelson's twin sister. He has a certain 'popular kid' reputation that was mostly passed on to you by association. You are both known for being nice and popular kids. Although you definitely are more lowkey than your 'rugby king' brother. So, even if you aren't sure these people are your crowd, you couldn't refuse when you had been invited to some guy's end-of-exams party.

It wasn't rare for you to be invited to events like this. Although, it was one of the few times your brother didn't join you. Ever since he started dating Charlie and got closer with the Paris gang, you could see less and less of him at these kinds of gatherings. That's why tonight, instead of being here with you, drinking lukewarm punch and listening to questionable music as some alcoholized teens were being unleashed in a mansion worth ten times your house, he was hanging out at home with his friends. You would much rather be with them, but they were Nick's friends, and even though they were nice to you, you always felt like the annoying sister trying to tag along in her brother's friend group.

That's why even when 95% of you wanted to turn back around and escape that terrible party, you took a deep breath in and let yourself be swallowed by the crowd of people.

10:15pm. You had been here for an hour, and it did not get better. The cup of punch in your hands was sticky and smelled incredibly weird. No doubt because someone had dumped in a bunch of mixed liquors. Your friends were all hanging around. Either dancing or flirting with some questionable-behaving young men. You couldn't help but look at your phone about a thousand times in the last twenty minutes. You thought about calling your mother. You knew she'd come to fetch you, but then what? You'd go back home? Seeing Nick and all of his friends having a jolly old time while you had failed to have a good night on your own? No, thank you.

You loved Nick to death, but sometimes, seeing how liked he was proved to be incredibly difficult for you. You always felt like an impostor. He dared to be himself, and people liked him anyway. You weren't so sure you'd be met with the same welcome if you dared step away from the facade you had carefully built all these years.

Maybe that's why you accepted to dance with someone you didn't even know. You did see each other around a few times but never actually spoke. He seemed nice enough, so when he reached out a hand and offered you to dance, you drank a sip of your horrible drink and joined him on the crowded dancefloor without question.

He was entertaining and invented goofy dance moves to make you laugh, but all the while, something felt off. You felt like you were being watched. Sometimes, you'd see his gaze over you as if he was looking at someone else. Each time you'd try to look in that direction to see who he might be looking at, he'd find some clever way to focus your attention elsewhere. After a few songs, you were both out of breath, sweaty, and hoping for a break. You were about to invent a creative excuse to get away when he offered to get some water. You hesitated, trying to look around for a friend, but none were in sight.

"Come on, we'll get some water and air if you want to. I know a spot." His expression was kind and seemed genuine. That's why, again, you followed him even though some small part of you screamed that you shouldn't.

The feeling in your gut turned queasy as he led you through dark corridors. The once kind smile that graced his features seemed to turn smug as you headed deeper into the house. You finally reached a little room far away from the agitated crowd. He opened the door, inviting you inside. "Are you coming?"

Your feet were rooted to the ground, the feeling in your stomach spreading to your entire body. This felt wrong.

"Uhm, no. I think my mom will be here soon. I should go." You took a step backward, trying to put some distance between the two of you. Trying to calm the instinct that screamed at you to run.

"Oh, come on. Don't you want a glass of water?"

You only stared at him, not daring to respond, too scared to fall into this trap he layed in front of you. You knew water would not be involved if you entered that room, and he seemed to get that too, "We had fun, didn't we?" the change in his tone made shivers creep up your arms. Gone was his facade of the innocent boy. He now looked like a snake trying to lure in his prey.

"Yeah, but now it's time for me to go. Thanks."

He stepped towards you, making you fully back into the wall. "Please stay. It's my party, you know. The least you could do is stay a little longer with me."

You looked around, noticing his arms had crept on the wall on either side of you.

"Please get your arms off," you demanded. You tried to make your voice sound assured but failed to hide the quiver in it. He noticed it, and the glim of rotten confidence in his eyes shone brighter. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

He trailed one finger up your arm, your stomach tying in knots at the touch. "You know, I've seen you around a lot. You're Nick Nelson's sister. People talk about you. They say you're stuck up. You've never had a boyfriend or anything, am I right? I like girls like that, so nice, so pure."

You almost threw up on him, the allusions making you feel nauseous. You couldn't, and wouldn't, hide the disgust filling your eyes. You looked around, hoping to see someone turn up. Praying for someone to come, but it seemed you were out of luck as the corridor stayed empty.

His hand went up in your hair, and you held your breath. Terror like you had never felt before paralyzed your body. "The guys bet you wouldn't get with me, but I think we have potential together. Am I right? We could head in that little room together and see what happens."

You felt the hand on your waist slowly slide down your hip, tugging you closer.

"Get off of me!" you exploded as you pushed him back as hard as you could. He hit the door behind him quite hard, the doorknob digging in his back. You made a headstart to get away, but before you could get further, his hand grabbed your wrist, tightening his grip until he had you wincing in pain.

He gritted his teeth, ambers of rage dancing in his eyes. "Oh, come on, don't be like this. Stay here with me, and we'll have fun." He pulled you backward by the collar of your shirt, and you heard the fabric rip with a distinct sound. He pressed you tight on his chest. You could feel every part of him pushing hard against your back. He gripped your hips while his other hand fumbled with your chest. His foul mouth on your neck.

Refusing to give up, you gathered all the self-defense knowledge you had and stepped on his foot as hard as you could, hitting him with your elbow in the stomach at the same time. You put all your strength in the blow as if you were trying to pierce him through. You knew you cut the air from his body with the sound he made. His arms loosened up for a second, and this time, when you started running in the opposite direction, nothing stopped you.

Running as fast as you could, you looked back for a second. Unable to resist the reflex to confirm you weren't being followed. Whipping your head to the front, you couldn't dodge when someone suddenly exited a door on the side. You crushed into them with blunt strength, almost sending you two toppling down.

"Oi! Watch where you're going- Oh, Y/n. Are you okay?"

The voice sounded incredibly familiar, and your gaze focused for a second. Sai, one of Nick's good mates, was staring at you, worry digging down the corners of his mouth.

"Uhm, I- I'm sorry. I have to go." You couldn't stop and risk getting caught again, so you started running, leaving Sai looking at your disappearing form.

You fled outside, already texting your mother. You hid until you saw the familiar form of the family car. Sprinting towards it, you climbed in as fast as you could.

"Well, someone's in a hurry to come home." chuckled your mother as she headed towards the exit. "The party wasn't fun?"

Forehead resting on the cold window, you couldn't say a word. If you were honest, you could barely register what your mother said. All you could feel was his hands on you. His lips on your neck. The phantom sensations gave you the horrible feeling that he was still grabbing you. That you were still trapped up there.

Your mother's touch on your arm brought you back to reality. "Are you okay, darling?" Even the soft touch on your arm was enough to make you shudder. "Y/n, did something happen?"

Your gaze connected with hers for a split second, but you willed the fear in your eyes to disappear. To go back to a dissociated gaze. Allowing nothing to show.

"I don't want to talk about it now," you mumbled while covering the tear in your shirt with your hoodie. You needed to comprehend what had happened before you could say something. Even if you wanted to, the words were stuck in your throat.

Your mother stayed silent for the rest of the ride, although you could feel her gaze on you a few times. You felt like she'd say something until she faced the road again without adding a word.

When you finally pulled into the driveway, you made for the door. You wanted nothing else but to disappear into your room. Your escape was halted when your mom grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You winced at the pain it inflicted and the reminder it brought. The look in your eyes was one of undiluted terror.

Her face turned white as a ghost's. "Y/n, I will give you your space for now, but I want you to know and understand that we will discuss this."

Your house was filled with music and happy voices. You could hear through cotton-filled ears someone call your name but didn't stop. When you slipped into your room, you stood in the dark and looked at your wrist. The red mark on it was already turning to a soft purple. A whimper escaped your mouth as you sunk to the floor.

You cried and cried and cried. The adrenaline had left your body, and the walls you had built around you to survive had been torn down. With a hand on your mouth, you tried to maintain your sobs to a minimum volume.

What the actual fuck was all you could manage to think.

Catching a glance of yourself in the mirror hanging on your wall, a wave of disgust ravaged you. In the darkness, like glow-in-the-dark marks, you could see the print of his hands on you, the sloppy marks he left on your neck. You felt disgusting. You needed to wash this off now.

You headed for the bathroom, trying not to attract anyone's attention. You were about to grab the doorknob when the door opened on a surprised Tara.

"Oh my god, Y/n, you scared me! I didn't know you were here," she exclaimed with her usual cheerfulness.

You stayed silent, feeling like you had been caught red-handed. Shame crept on your cheeks.

In a second, she analyzed the state you were in. The tear on the collar of your shirt. Your puffy eyes, your red cheeks. "What happened to you? What happened to your shirt? Are you okay?"

Her sweet concern was all it took for you to tumble into tears again. She helped you back to your room, supporting and hugging you tight. You babbled incoherently about what had happened. You just needed these horrible words to be out of your system. You needed this unbearable reality out of your head, needed the constant litany of words to stop.

Tara listened to your whole story and managed to understand through your sobs. As you finished, out of breath, she convinced you to let her get Nick. You dreaded it at first, so scared to see his reaction, but the once-in-a-while seriousness in Tara's tone managed to persuade you.

You heard her going down the stairs and waited in silence. You held your breath. The house was utterly silent as if it was also holding its breath. Then, it erupted, and all you could hear was someone climbing up the stairs at an alarming pace. Your door opened on a whim, almost digging a hole in your wall with how strongly it went flying back.

Your twin brother was standing on your doorstep, his chest going up and down quickly. He didn't say anything. He just scanned you from head to toe before reaching out his arms. Engulfing you in a tight embrace, he rocked you back and forth.

"Tell me," was all he said, his tone hoarse and hard.

"I was anxious and bored, and this guy asked me to dance. We did, and then he offered to get some water and air. I followed him but felt this grip in my gut. Felt like something was off. He led me to a dark room. I refused to go in and said I had to go, but then he backed me into this wall. Saying stuff about what other people thought about me and about some bet he'd made with his friends. I- I tried escaping Nick, I really did, I promise. I kept my distance, I told him to go away, but he wouldn't. I pushed him and tried to make a run for it, but he grabbed my wrist and started touching me. I managed to defend myself and get away. I ran into someone. I think it was Sai. I stopped for a second but couldn't tell him anything, so I ran again and hid until Mum came to pick me up."

The silence in your room was deafening. His whole being was at a standstill. Nick wasn't known to be a violent person. Quite the opposite, but you felt like that was about to change.

"Show me where he hurt you."

You extended your wrist, the mark gone even darker than before.

"Anywhere else?" he reluctantly asked.

You couldn't, and wouldn't, show him where precisely but managed to wave your hand towards your neck and upper body. Shame once again invaded your cells. His eyes filled with despair and so much rage. He hugged you tight again. "I'm going to kill him."

You whipped your head up. The look in your brother's eyes was one you had never seen before. Immediately, guilt flooded your thoughts.

"Nick, you can't get involved in this. I'm so sorry I got into all this trouble. I don't want it to affect you at school. I shouldn't have followed him. This is my fault."

He looked at you incredulously. As if you had just said the dumbest thing he had ever heard.

"Y/n, you didn't get in trouble. Someone assaulted you. You are not at fault here. Do you understand? Because I really need you to." He tightened his grip on you, his cheek on the crown of your head. "I don't need you to pull some Charlie number on me."

"A Charlie number, uh?" you heard a familiar voice speak up.

Charlie's head peeked from your door. The face of comfort and reassurance. "Can I come in?" You nodded as he made his way to the bed. "Although I'm not sure what exactly he's referring to, I'm pretty sure he's right. You shouldn't feel guilty for something someone did to you, okay? Especially for something like this."

You saw the hint of pain flashing in his eyes and remembered he had experienced something similar.

He reached a hand you immediately grabbed. You had loved Charlie since that first day he came to your house to meet Nellie. There was something about him that always made you feel safe and comfortable. His presence here meant a lot to you. "You okay?"

You still weren't precisely grabbing the heaviness of what had happened. But the support you were shown helped you manage the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling. You nodded feebly.

"What do you want to do?" finally asked Nick. "Can we do anything for you right now?"

You confessed you did not want to be alone tonight. You dreaded being left with your thoughts, scared they would swallow you whole. "I just want to feel safe," you whispered.

The words were like a dagger to Nick and Charlie's hearts. They both felt so guilty about not being there to protect you. What happened tonight brought them back to the beginning of their relationship. When Charlie had been through the same thing you just did. It awakened so many unpleasant and painful memories in their hearts.

"Of course. We can stay with you all night," said Nick with a kind smile, and you knew he meant it.

He offered to watch a movie, knowing that was your thing when you needed comfort. He felt that nothing he could do would help you heal from the experience you just had, but he'd do anything in his power to make you feel better. Your eyes light up at the suggestion, and he couldn't help a loving smile from lighting up his face.

"The gang is still down there. If you want, I can ask them to leave?" suggested Charlie. "Even I can go home if you would rather be alone with your family. That'd be totally understandable."

If you were being honest, you would love for them to stay. The more, the merrier, and Nick's friends were such a cheerful and caring group. You knew they would be supportive. You hesitated, on the edge of saying yes.

Nick felt your hesitation and put a hand atop Charlie and yours. "We can ask everyone to leave if you want to, no problem. But if you feel comfortable and want them here, I know they'd love to."

You finally admitted you'd love for them to stay. Charlie went downstairs to fill them in. Leaving you in the room, still wrapped in your brother's arms. Both of you weren't ready to move just yet.

"If you want them to leave or need anything at any moment, I want you to come straight to me. Is that clear?" You nodded. "And while they set everything up, I have to tell Mum. She's worried sick, and rightfully so."

You nodded once again, knowing she deserved to know. Still, you couldn't help your stomach from twisting in knots at the thought of this thing spreading out.

Always so observant, Nick noticed how scared you looked. "Please, trust me, let me handle this. You don't have to worry about a thing. Just let me deal with it. You can lean on me." You mumbled an 'okay' as he kissed the top of your hair.

An invisible promise to protect you forever.

The gang all split up to help make you feel better. Elle, Tara, and Darcy helped you clean up. You didn't want to be alone. So when you looked anxious to step in the bathroom, they all suggested they'd sit down in there, waiting for you. They were incredibly caring and supportive. Acting like this wasn't out of the blue and odd. You knew Nick and Charlie had filled them in, but none dared to say a thing. Their respect for your privacy and light chatting were both things you were incredibly grateful for. In the meantime, Tao and Isaac prepared the living room for the movie. They went all out and built a fort of pillows and blankets with snacks, ready to welcome you when you were done.

As for Nick and Charlie, they were dealing with the situation. They told everything to your mum and contacted Sai to find out what he'd seen. He immediately admitted seeing you running away from a corridor, shirt torn up, with tears running down your face. He found the guy in question, still catching his breath, and pieced two and two together. He even got him to admit the whole thing. He questioned some guys and even confirmed the horrible rumor of the bet. It had taken everything, and encouragement from Charlie, for Nick to stay put and not rush back there to beat his ass. Even your 'anti-violence' mother kept her mouth shut while Nick uttered threats, each worse than the other. The next day would already be horrible enough for the guy without Nick having to get in trouble had reassured his boyfriend.

Forty-five minutes later, you were all covered in blankets, resting on pillows, cuddled up together. Nick and Charlie were sitting on either side of you. Your brother's arm reached around you and his boyfriend.

The rest of the gang was scattered around the floor and the couch, but you were still all touching. Forming an unbreakable chain of support and love.

You looked around and felt so grateful as you looked at the people present. Nick squeezed your hand with a kind smile, a quick check-up to confirm you were still okay. You cleared your throat, gathering everyone's attention. The movie softly played in the background while you started, "I wanted to thank you for this. You have all been incredible. Thank you for helping me, and I hope you can forgive me for interrupting your end-of-exams party."

"Hush with that. As if we'd ever be mad for something like this." intervened Elle. She put a comforting hand on your shin, her features so open and caring. You couldn't help but give her an answering smile.

"Did you really think we'd resent you for what happened tonight?" inquired Charlie. Once again, a light of understanding sparkled in his blue eyes.

"No, but it's just... This was your thing. Your party, and once again, I'm intruding in and forcing you guys to hang out with me."

"Forcing us?!" cut Tara. "Y/n, I don't think anyone here would feel forced to hang out with you. We like hanging out with you!"

Your eyes shone with surprise and something like relief. They all looked at each other incredulously. Not quite believing that you didn't know how much they liked you. "What?! Did you think we only thought of you as Nick's little sister?"

You turned your head towards a disbelieving Tao. Your shy silence was an answer in itself.

"You have great taste in movies. Plus, you have a lot of knowledge about the cinematic universe. I like hanging out with you because you're the only one in this group with decent expertise of the culture." He added enthusiastically. Pronouncing that last word with his usual mediocre impression of a Scottish accent, he extorted a laugh from your chest.

"And you like to dance, and for some reason, you get Darcy's poor sense of humor," added Tara with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. To which her girlfriend lightly tapped her leg in protest.

"And you're into art, and you're actually the only one in this group who can give me constructive criticism about my work." Your gaze dropped back to Elle, giving an accusatory look at the rest of the group.

"And you're the only one willing to have a book club with me. Don't think I can talk and have actual discussions with this lot about all the books I read," finished Isaac with a shy smile. He was the first in the gang, after Charlie, with whom you felt really close. You squeezed his hand as a silent thanks.

"We're trying to tell you how you mean so much more to us. You're Y/n Nelson. We like hanging out with you because you're a great person with great interests. Not because we have to. Not because you're Nick's sister." explained Charlie. He knew how it felt when you thought people didn't honestly like you. Or when you thought they'd be better off without you. He saw so much of himself inside of you. It made his heart tighten with sadness and love.

You stared at them all, a few tears burning in the corners of your eyes. You coughed, trying to hide the emotion flaring up in you.

"You are part of this group if you want to Y/n." Charlie nudged you with his shoulder as if he had read your thoughts. You lifted hopeful eyes towards him. You felt as if your heart might burst with joy.

"I-"

"I'm not giving you any choice." cut Darcy out of the blue."You are part of the gang. Nothing you can do about it." she declared. As always, her unexpected comment had everyone laughing. You looked at her triumphant face, euphoria spreading in your chest.

You looked at your brother, who was already beaming at you, pride and joy mixed in that sweet expression. The tears in your eyes welled up and, against the better of you, softly dropped on your cheeks.

"Are these tears of joy...?" asked Isaac, speaking for the whole group. You had been through a lot tonight, and they had hoped their intervention would have made you happy. But they questioned if it had been too much, too soon.

You let out a soft chuckle. "Yes."

In a team effort, the whole gang jumped on you. Engulfing your body in an embrace of warmth, love, and laughter, a lot of laughter.

"I'm so sorry for being such a..."

You stopped mid-sentence when you felt a pinch on your arm, only to hear Nick whisper, "From now on, you are also banned from saying the 's' word. So shut it and enjoy." The whole group, including yourself, erupted in laughter.

There would be a lot of hardships coming in the next few days, but knowing you had them all made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you'd be able to weather it.

#ilya writes #nick nelson #nick nelson x twin sister!reader #nick nelson x sibling!reader #nick nelson x reader #paris gang x reader #heartstopper #heartstopper fic #nick nelson fic #nick and charlie #alice oseman #kit connor #joe locke #charlie spring

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thewulf · 1 year ago

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Miss ma'am!! Idk how I'm just finding your blog but omggg you have the motherload of amazing FF's. THANK YOUUUU. It's hard to find sweet fluff and actual good angst. So thank you. please keep it up for forever.

Can i request a Paul Lahote x Swan Twin Sister Reader? I've had this in my head for forever but you can ignore it if you don't wanna do twilight. But i think you'd crush it!

Okay so reader is Bella's (fraternal) twin sissy. She moved to Forks with Bella and the whole first book happens WITHOUT her knowing what's going on. She's just as in the dark as Charlie is. However, after edward abandons her she gets to the bottom of it and is her sisters rock while she comes out of the depression hole she's in.

Okay so reader convinces Bella to go talk to Jacob after he too seemingly abandons the both of them (reader is good friends with Jake prior to the transformation instead of the Cullen's). Reader is too upset to confront him so she sits in the car. However, when reader notices Bella walking towards the Sam and his crew that's when she springs into action running behind her. She tries to stop Bella from slapping Paul but she does in her rage. However, instead of transforming reader calls out to Bella and locks eyes with him. Of course, reader is his imprint and it can be really sweet n fluffy after that. Like he falls the the ground, anger vanished and things just make sense to him. Obvi bella and reader are hella confused. Jake is super thankful bc he's obviously missed you.

Sorry this is so long but I think you'll crush it!!

First of all, thank you so much!!

Second of all, YASSSS you got it. My first twilight request!! I swear Twilight is what got me INTO reading. Sucked me in and I've never looked back. This series is what fanfics are made for hahah. You got it anon!!

(I also love really detailed requests, so no worries!)

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woncheolisms · 1 year ago

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was i meant to love you? (last part)

pairing: miya osamu x reader

summary: the kanji on your arm says miya atsumu’s name. but every fiber of your being is in love with his twin brother.

word count: 1501

warnings: swearing, some angst, happy ending

tags: @hadukada @utopiamiroh @angstylittleb1tch @sassycheesecake @i-have-no-life-charlie @tsukiran-blog @mommyourcall420 @ak-aaa-li @ti-mame @ellesalazar @seijaelee @hiraethwa

a/n: this is so late im so sorry writers block is a little bitch but omg this is the last part! I hope you all like it xx

previous part // series masterlist

The living room was hardly silent, between the sitcom playing on TV and Atsumu’s incredibly loud chewing, but it still felt like the air was thick and still around you. You were sure it was just you, and not Atsumu who felt this way. It likely had to do with your apprehension, trying to prepare yourself for the topic at hand. You remembered Osamu’s words, drawing confidence from his encouragement. You tried to revise in your head how to approach this, but your bravery was failing you.

How the hell were you supposed to tell your soulmate that you weren’t in love with him?

Osamu’s platonic soulmates theory didn’t sound all too convincing to you, but hearing that it came from Kita did give you some confidence. You were sure Kita would never put forth an idea that he didn’t consider to have merit. So maybe there was some weight to his words. You were still on the fence though. It all depended on what Atsumu had to say about it.

Speaking of, you watched Atsumu slurp down his ramen like it was his last meal on earth, and you could empathize with him. His routine was grueling. A lot went into being a pro athlete, much more than you could have anticipated. You almost felt bad for springing this on him after a tiring day when he was trying to wind down. But you didn’t exactly have any other opportunity for it.

You cleared your throat and shifted in place, turning so you were facing Atsumu instead of the TV. He turned to look at you, slurping up a noodle dangling from his mouth before licking his lips and giving you a look.

“I need to talk to you about something.” You fidgeted with your fingers, unable to look him in the eye. Atsumu seemed to freeze, leaning forward to place his bowl on the coffee table before facing you and giving you his full attention. Somehow that made it harder for you to get the words out. Your mouth opened and closed like a dumb goldfish. Several moments passed.

Atsumu’s hand landed on top of your own, halting the nervous movements of your fingers. You closed your eyes, feeling a sudden wave of shame wash over you.

“Just say it.” He spoke gently, as if understanding the turmoil going on in your head. You looked up at him, at the calming brown of his eyes and the soft curl of his mouth, and you felt yourself tear up.

“You don’t deserve this.” You breathed, shaking your head. “I can’t do this to you. I’m a horrible person.”

His lip ticked up in a little smile. “Ya gotta give me more than that, babe. I have no idea what yer talkin’ about.”

“I don’t-” You felt the words pour out of you like vomit. “I don’t think I love you. Not like I should. And it’s tearing me apart because I care for you so much and Osamu told me about this thing called platonic soulmates which sounds like bullshit, I know, but it explains the way I’m feeling! But sometimes I just feel like I’m a bad person and this is my way of justifying it-”

“Wait-”

“And I do love you. So much Tsumu, you’re my closest friend and you understand me so well but I don’t feel it romantically at all, which is so fucked up-”

“Hey!” You stopped short, staring at the man before you with teary eyes. You expected him to look horrified. Maybe confused. Definitely hurt. But all you saw was amusement.

“Ya gotta cool it.” He grinned, running a hand through your hair while the other squeezed yours comfortingly.

“S-sorry.” You choked out, sniffling a bit.

Atsumu sighed, staring down at your joined hands. The moment was silent except your wet sniffles, and the very low volume of the TV playing in the background. You watched as Atsumu smiled a bit.

“I’m relieved.” He spoke up, and you blinked at his words. “I always thought I was a fuckin’ asshole, ya know? ‘Cause yer so beautiful and a great person. But kissing ya was kinda painful.”

You gasped. “Hey!”

“Yer telling me the thought of layin’ a smooch on me didn’t make ya wanna barf?” Atsumu retaliated, and you fell silent, still sneering. He chuckled a bit, shaking his head.

“What did ya say it was called?”

“Platonic soulmates.”

Atsumu hummed. “Makes sense. Yer my best friend.”

You smiled at that, squeezing his hand. “And you’re mine.”

When he opened his arms, you fell into them, reveling in his embrace. Somehow, it felt ten times better than any time you had hugged him. You figured it had to do with the fact that your chronic guilt was not bothering you anymore. You buried your face in Atsumu’s neck.

“I love ya.”

“I love you, too.”

A bout of silence.

“But not like that.”

You let out a laugh. “I get it, Tsumu.”

“Just wanted ta make it clear.”

“Shut up.”

And he did. You smiled and settled into him, feeling lighter than you had in years.

……………………

When Osamu saw the look on Atsumu’s face, he immediately froze. He knew, in that instant, that you had talked to his brother. He just knew Atsumu too well to not know any change in his demeanor. And his demeanor had definitely changed. Except it wasn’t the change he was expecting.

Atsumu looked more relaxed. Happier, even? Maybe that was going too far. But then his twin was grinning up at him and settling into a stool in front of the counter, and Osamu could no longer ignore the spring in his step.

“What’s got ya so preppy?” He tested, trying not to build up his hope. Atsumu grinned.

“I just got answers ta some really old questions.” He replied, and Osamu raised an eyebrow.

“Wanna tell me what yer talkin’ about?”

And Atsumu did, sounding jovial, and with a light tone. Osamu stayed rock still as he spoke, unable to believe that Atsumu too had felt this way his whole life. He was almost shocked that he had missed such a huge part of his brother’s feelings, but it was overshadowed by the kindling of hope in his chest at the prospect that he could actually be with the girl he loved.

So when Atsumu had stopped talking, and Osamu had served him a plate of fresh Onigiri, he worked up the courage to drop another bomb on his twin. One that was arguably worse than the Platonic Soulmates one.

“Tsumu,” he began. “What do ya think about her datin’…. someone else?”

“Hm?” Atsumu looked up at his brother. “Why? She like someone?”

Osamu nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He finally let the words leave his mouth.

“M-me.”

Atsumu stopped eating then, eyes meeting Osamu’s. Osamu felt like he was holding his breath, heart racing.

“I like her too. Uh, it’s- I’ve liked her for a while. Didn’t do anythin’ for obvious reasons, ya know.”

Atsumu sighed, turning back to his plate. He bit into another rice ball.

“What is this? Kimchi mayo? It’s real good.”

Osamu blinked, trying to fight off his incredulity in favor of staring down his brother.

“Are ya for real?”

Atsumu rolled his eyes. “Samu, ‘m not really shocked. It’s pretty obvious ya got a thing for her. And I don’t have anything with her at all, so if ya wanna date, go ahead.”

Then he gave Osamu a lopsided grin, and Osamu felt like everything in the universe had just fallen into place.

“Ya better not break her heart though. She’s still my soulmate.”

Osamu’s smile was genuine. His relief was immense. He felt almost stupid with joy at that point. And he realized he gave Atsumu far less credit than his due. His brother had just stumped him completely, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

“I won’t.”

………………….

Your and Osamu’s first kiss wasn’t anything to write home about. It was at a train station, rushed and messy, so quick that you almost didn’t feel it. It was immediately followed by a feeling of regret, panic and guilt. Something you both wanted so bad, but couldn’t have. So forbidden that it broke your heart into pieces.

Your second kiss was the exact opposite in every single way. Everything that had broken your heart seemed to mend now. Heart and stomachs both full after the wonderful date you had just been on, when Osamu finally leaned down to press his lips on yours. It felt like every fiber of your body had been pulled taut and then released, and your hands felt shaky as you finally allowed them to run over his body. His own grip was worryingly tight, arms enveloping you completely, not that you minded. You reveled in the feeling of his mouth, hoping you never stopped kissing him. Hoping he never let you go.

The kiss did end. But he never let you go.

#miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #miya osamu fluff #miya osamu angst #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu angst #hq angst #hq fluff #miya atsumu x reader

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thesparkling-diamond27 · 4 months ago

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When Love Remains Masterlist

#heartstopper #nick nelson #nick nelson x reader #charlie spring #nick x charlie #elle argent #tao xu #issac henderson #imogen heaney #darcy olsson #tara jones #sahar zahid #reader x oc

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cuttergauthier · 2 years ago

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Hockey Fanfiction Masterlist Part TWO

You can find the Imagine/blurbs/Insta edits i've written for each player under their written below!

Quinton Byfield

→Imagine

→Blurb

→Insta Edits

Quinton Byfield x Female Hockey Player

Brock Boeser

→Imagine

→Blurb

→Insta Edits

Brock boeser x Spring time

Tyler Duke

→Imagine

→Blurb

Secret Relationship 0.5k

→Insta Edits

Tyler Duke x Female Fantilli Reader

Rutger Mcgroarty

→Imagine

Summer Time 2.4k

→Blurb

Take Care Of Me 0.3k

→Insta Edits

Rutger Mcgroarty x Naurato daughter

Rutger Mcgroarty x Sister's Best Friend

Hughes sister AU’s

→Imagine

→Blurb

→Insta Edits

Conner Smith x Hughes sister

Adam Fantilli

→Imagine

→Blurb

→Insta Edits

Adam Fantilli x Childhood best friend

Alex Turcotte

→Imagine

L.A. Living 0.7k

→Blurb

→Insta Edits

Kirby Dach

→Imagine

The Story Of Us 2.0k

→Blurb

→Insta Edits

Kirby Dach x Female Strome Reader

Gavin Brindley

→Imagine

→Blurb

→Insta Edits

Gavin Brindley x Casey Twin Sister

Arber Xhekaj

→Imagine

→Blurb

→Insta Edits

Arber Xhekaj x Female Dach Reader

Gabe Perrault

→Imagine

Treated Like A Princess 1.3k

→Blurb

→Insta Edits

Brock Faber

→Imagine

Let Me In 2.7k

→Blurb

Flowers & Breakfast 0.2k

→Insta Edits

Owen Lindmark

→Imagine

Shy Girl 1.0k

→Blurb

→Insta Edits

Nick Granowicz

→Imagine

Proposing 1.0k

→Blurb

Cheering Up 0.3k

→Insta Edits

Nick Granowicz x Msu Reader au

Jacob Truscott

→Imagine

Snowed In 0.6k

→Blurb

Sick 0.1k

→Insta Edits

Jacob Truscott x Blankenburg Sister

Jimmy Snuggerud

→Imagine

→Blurb

Protector 0.2k

→Insta Edits

Matt Boldy

→Imagine

→Blurb

Mr. & Mrs. Boldy 0.8k

→Insta Edits

Charlie Stramel

→Imagine

Stop hogging the blankets 2.0k

→Blurb

→Insta Edits

Will Smith

→Imagine

→Blurb

Tossing & Turning 0.2k

→Insta Edits

Mason Lohrei

→Imagine

→Blurb

2 a.m Cuddles 0.3k

→Insta Edits

Timo Meier

→Imagine

Family Snow Day 0.8k

→Blurb

→Insta Edits

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arachine · 2 years ago

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pairing: shy!inexperienced!charlie walker x fem!reader warnings: corruption, blow job, unprotected sex, loser charlie, whiny charlie + so sorry for clogging ethan’s tags but i am a whore for interaction! reblogs are highly appreciated >.< wc: 750

corruption with shy!inexperienced!charlie is something so special to me. just the sheer mental image of him trembling beneath your touch. head fogged with lust, palms all slick with perspiration because his hands have been nestled in the thick of your hair for the past half hour.

he’s very well past his limit, and you know this, but you disregard his—rather ill—attempts to swat you away. one more, you tell him. but one more is never really one more. it’s two more, then three more, then six more—and now he’s lost count. so instead of fighting, he relinquishes his body to you. lets you tease and touch, lick and suck, until his limbs melt into the plush of his stab themed duvet.

“oh, god,” he groans with a hand thrown over his mouth, “‘m gonna, ‘m gonna–shit–yeah, keep doing that.” immediately, you pull off of him with a wet pop, wiping away a dew droplet of spit from the side of your mouth.

“that feel good?” you query, smoothing a gentle palm up and down his shaft. there’s a hint of mischief in your voice–it’s teasing, but nonetheless, the question is genuine.

“yeah, ’s ni–“ charlie starts, but is promptly cut off when you lick a long stripe up his length. like a minx, you furrow your brows and feign confusion—as if you don’t know what you’re doing when you lick him like that—look at him like that. when you rub the smooth skin of your cheeks against it, and leave a trail of wet kisses along the side of it.

“huh? couldn’t hear you, baby,” you pout, rubbing a thumb up and over his weeping slit. the boy mumbles an expletive under his breath. sits up on his elbows and flashes you a look of disdain for making him repeat himself, though, you know it’s disingenuous.

“f-feels…good,” he manages to huff out, “really good.” you smile at his sincerity, and halt your ministrations altogether, rising from your haunches to stand above him. the loss of touch coaxes a noise from him, somewhere in between a whine and a whimper, and he almost slips from the bed trying to pull you back towards him.

“nuh uh,” you admonish, nudging his chest back with the tip of your foot. when he tries to move again, you push him all the way down against the bed, until your foot rests flat and firmly on the crest of his chest. this time, he seems to get it, ultimately accepting defeat. he retrieves back to his initial position, and plants his elbows deep into the cushion of his mattress.

charlie watches intuitively as you slowly retract your foot. his eyes dance across the expanse of your face, and although the room is dimly lit, he can still make out the devilish smirk gracing your features. one by one, you begin to discard articles of clothing, and it’s then that charlie’s starting to get the picture. oh, he thinks, it’s happening.

he feels like he should do something, like he should prepare, but he knows that any advance he makes will only result in another reprimanding. and, fuck, he can’t help but to squirm around because never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d be in this position—both figuratively and literally—which is, naked from the waist down, leaning back on his embarrassingly small twin sized bed, while the prettiest girl at woodsboro high strips down in front of him.

and not only did you suck him off, but you were going to take his virginity. at least he thinks you are. because now you’re inching closer to him, and straddling him, and—

“holy shit,” he drawls, involuntarily springing forward when you sink down on him. an intense flood of warmth surges to the pit of his belly like liquid lightning, and like the virgin he is, he almost lets a load out right then and there. pathetic, he thinks.

“not g-gonna last, not like this,” he spits through gritted teeth, “too warm, ’s t-too much, i c-can’t.” though, before he can finish, you interrupt him with a drag of your hips, and raise a single digit to his lips.

“shh, i know, i know. you’re doing so good,” the pad of your thumb swipes his cheek, “gonna take care of you, make you feel good,” you assure, “don’t you want me to help you?”

“y-yeah, shit, yeah,” charlie nods, throwing his head back against his sheets.

“then give me one more.”

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x reader smut #scream vi x reader #scream vi smut #scream smut #charlie walker x reader #charlie walker x reader smut #jack champion #rory culkin #:: — LEXI WRITES !

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sprinkler-ashes · 2 years ago

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gorgeous // aaron hotchner x reader

gorgeous

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

in which you’re jack hotchner’s teacher, and you are utterly enamored of his dad. loosely based off of taylor swift’s song “gorgeous.”

words: 2.4k

warnings: everyone thirsting over hotch lmao

a/n: thank you all soooo very much for 600+ notes on my last fic!!! here’s another small taylor-inspired fic. It’s short, sweet, and i left it open for a part 2 in case i want to write it – we’ll see. i really wanted to get more out for you guys, but spring semester started, i fell back into constant work, and now am getting over the flu, which totally sucks, but is giving me a slight break to write. thanks for reading <3

you make me so happy, it turns back to sad

there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have

you are so gorgeous it makes me so mad

On most days, you loved your job. You were a first grade teacher and truly loved all the kids you had as if they were your own.

However, on some days – you really despised your job.

Dealing with the parents was sometimes your least favorite part of your job. It was usually mind-boggling to you at how some of these people had the sweetest and smartest kids, but they, the parents themselves, could be absolutely awful. It wasn’t all of the parents. In fact, there were some you really liked, but there were definitely a couple bad ones.

As much as you didn’t like dealing with some of those bad parents during conferences, you weren’t a fan of days like today – a Saturday bake sale at nine in the morning to raise money for an end-of-the-year field trip coming up at the end of the school year in just a couple months. The PTA was over the bake sale, which meant you had to deal with some of the most insufferable women you had ever met on what was supposed to be a day off.

“I told you, Stef, she’s just with him so she can get that life insurance check when he finally kicks the bucket – you watch and see if I’m not right,” the woman next to you, Kelly, said. “Poor Charlie, I hope he gets away from her before she snatches every penny he’s got.”

You wanted to scream. You weren’t sure how you were going to deal with this for another – you checked your watch – two hours and thirty-eight minutes even though the bake sale was only supposed to be three hours long. How had it only been twenty-two minutes?

Kelly was the resident gossip while Stefanie, Stef, was her best friend and head of the PTA. Kelly’s son wasn’t in your class, but Stef’s twins were both in your class. Even though you didn’t even teach Kelly’s kid, you saw her often because she was always at every single school event.

“Stef, are you listening to me?” You heard Kelly ask.

“Did you know Mr. Hotchner is here?” Stef asked excitedly.

Your head perked up at hearing that. You pretended to fiddle with the homemade brownies wrapped up in front of you while you listened.

“That man is so beautiful. I just want him for myself,” Kelly replied. “I’m glad he made it today, so we have something nice to look at.”

You couldn’t disagree with Kelly there. Aaron Hotchner was the dad of one of the kids in your class, Jack, and a member of the PTA. He was the Unit Chief of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit and was often gone on cases. Jack’s mom had died a while ago, close to two years prior, and Jessica, Jack’s aunt, was usually the one who would drop him off and pick him up.

In fact, you had only met Jack’s dad a couple times – three, to be exact. The first time you met Jack and Aaron was at the school’s open house event right before school had started. The second time was the first parent-teacher conference of the year. The last time you had seen him was purely by luck in the grocery store one evening.

Kelly wasn’t wrong – Aaron Hotchner was insanely attractive and every woman in the PTA knew it. It honestly seemed like everyone knew it except for Aaron himself. You watched as he helped Jack give change back to a man who was buying a cookie at the booth he was at. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him give his son a high-five after the man had left.

Truthfully, you hated him. Not because he had ever done anything to you – actually, it was because he hadn’t done anything to you.

“Do you think he’ll ever remarry?” Kelly asked Stef. “If so, I hope it’s one of us.”

“You, me, and every woman here,” Stef said with a laugh. “Oh my goodness, Kelly, he’s coming over here. Fix your hair! It looks like a bird’s nest.”

You felt your pulse start to race as you glanced up to find that Stef was, indeed, right. Aaron was coming over, his eyes trained on you with his hands in his pockets. He was dressed casually in jeans and a crewneck sweatshirt. It was different from the usual suits you saw him in. Seeing him without a tie felt almost criminal.

“Good morning,” he told you, not paying attention to the other women near you, his eyes trained solely on you. “I’m sorry to bother you, but Jack wants to know if you’ll come join his booth for a moment. It won’t be long.”

You silently it wasn’t obvious that his gaze on you was affecting you the way that it was. His job was literally to profile people – you just hoped he wasn’t profiling you right now. “Yeah, I’d love to. Do you mind taking over this booth while I go over for a bit?”

“Go right ahead, honey,” Kelly told you. She lowered her voice, “I’d go anywhere with him, too.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m just going to see Jack’s poster.”

Kelly grinned. “Whatever you say.”

You shook your head, avoiding eye contact with Aaron and watching as both the women gave him a smile and little wave while you maneuvered from out behind the table you were standing at. “Lead the way.”

He gave you a small smile as he removed his hands from his pockets and led you over to the table him and Jack were assigned to. “I know you’re miserable, so I thought I’d help you escape.”

You were about to ask how he knew you’d rather have been doing anything else other than Stef and Kelly gossip, but you closed your mouth as soon as you opened it. “Really? You were profiling me? Here?”

That earned you a laugh out of him, which you now claimed as your favorite sound you’ve ever heard. “I don’t think it would’ve taken a profiler to see that you weren’t enjoying yourself.”

“Did you guys not get assigned with anyone else? It was supposed to be three to five people per table,” you mentioned as you two had finally reached the cookie booth that Aaron and Jack were over.

“We did, but they didn’t show,” Aaron replied to you, his hand lightly touching your lower back as he guided you behind the table where Jack was awaiting, causing you to elicit a sharp intake at the contact. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you said in your best attempt at a nonchalant tone. If he doubted you, he didn’t press further. “Do you want me to ask around and see if I can get someone to come work the cookie booth with you guys?”

Aaron shook his head. “We’re holding up fine. Right, Jack?”

“Miss Y/L/N!” Jack shouted coming towards you as he held out his poster board that was just about as big as he was and filled with hand-drawn pictures of cookies. “Look at my sign! Daddy let me stay up late to make it.”

You crouched down to his level. “It looks awesome, Jack!” you told him excitedly, gaining a smile of your own as you watched his spread wide. “You did a great job!”

“Thanks! Can you put it back in front of the table, please?” He asked you politely. You nodded and took the poster back from him and placed it back in its rightful spot in front. “Daddy, can I go talk to my friends? I’ll be really quick, I pinky-promise.”

“Yes, but don’t be too long. We have cookies to sell,” Aaron told him.

You both watched as Jack’s little legs carried him just right in front of the table you were at. He was only a couple feet away, but you noticed Aaron’s eyes watching him, making sure he got there safely and that the adults working that table saw him.

“He thinks the world of you. I think you’re his favorite person,” Aaron told you.

That made you grin. You weren’t supposed to have favorites as a teacher, especially with kids as young as the ones you taught, but Jack was definitely one of your favorites. He was a sweet kid and was even reading on a fourth grade level. He caused no trouble and was a friend to everyone.

“He’s a great kid. I think the world of him also,” you said, your eyes locking with Aaron’s. Your breath hitched. How was someone this gorgeous? “But I actually think you’re his favorite person. He tells everyone about you and what you do. You’re his hero.”

Aaron grinned, and it was a sight you hadn’t seen before. You’d gotten smiles from him before, but never anything this big. You refrained from quite literally melting onto the floor. To be honest, you weren’t sure how you were going to last another minute standing here with him. He was so attractive you could barely even look at him.

If you said you didn’t have a teeny, tiny crush on Jack’s dad, you would be lying, but he was off-limits. For one, you were his son’s teacher. You’d really convinced yourself that there was no way he would want someone like you. There was nothing wrong with you, but you two were supposed to have a strictly professional relationship.

“Have you tried one of the cookies?” Aaron asked you, motioning to the cookies that laid on the table in front of the two of you.

“I haven’t,” you replied. “Did you bake all of these?”

“I had some help,” he sheepishly admitted. “Penelope, one of my co-workers, she helped me. As soon as we got back from a case last night, she came over. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to bake this many cookies by myself.”

“You made all of these last night? And after a case?” you asked incredulously. The entire table was covered in cookies of various different flavors. You were seriously impressed.

“Yeah, but it was no big deal,” he brushed it off. “I didn’t want to miss the bake sale. Plus, like I said, I didn’t do all of it.”

Was there anything this man couldn’t do?

You laughed. “I’m sure you’re probably wishing that you did miss the bake sale.” You gestured around the school parking lot that was set up. “I can count on one hand the number of things we’ve sold. I told Stef that a chilly February bake sale wasn’t a good idea, but she doesn’t really listen.”

“No, I’m glad I’m here. I really wanted to be here,” he said, looking directly at you.

This man knew how to take your breath away without even touching you or really even saying anything. You really understand now why all the PTA moms spent so much time gossiping about him.

“We’re glad you could make it,” you said breathlessly, offering a smile. “Really, Mr. Hotchner, I know how busy you are, so all of us are thrilled that you could find the time to help out.”

“Call me Aaron.”

This man was genuinely going to drive you crazy. You were an adult, so why did talking to Aaron Hotchner almost make you drop to the ground?

Before you could say anything else, Jack was back. “Did we get any more customers?”

“Not yet, buddy.”

Jack frowned. “Ah, man. But the cookies are so good!” He turned to you. “Miss Y/L/N, why is no one buying anything?”

“I’m not sure, Jack. Hopefully, we’ll get some more customers later.”

“I hope so,” he said sadly. “I really want to go on the field trip.”

You once again crouched down to his height – something you did often when talking to any of the kids. “We’re working really hard to make the field trip happen, so don’t give up hope, okay?”

Before Jack could reply, you noticed people coming towards your table, so you motioned for Jack to look. “Look! There’s some customers coming. You ready?”

Jack nodded excitedly as he turned around and eagerly started to await the arrival of the people nearing. You smiled at his excitement and took a step back, letting him take control, but you were going to keep watch to make sure he was doing everything correctly.

“I can see why Jack likes you so much.”

You smiled. The greatest compliments you could receive was from parents telling you their kids – the kids you spent more time with than your own family — liked you. Some days were tough, and it would feel like you weren’t in the right profession, but that feeling would go away any time a parent was able to confirm that their child really enjoyed you teaching them.

“Thank you, Mr. Hotchner, but I should probably get back to helping out Stef and Kelly,” you told him as you looked around to see more people filing in. “It seems we’re starting to get a little busy.”

“Yeah, of course, sorry to keep you busy. Jack just wanted you to come over.”

Jack turned around. “Yeah, I did. Daddy wasn’t happy that we didn’t get to work a table with you. He called Miss Stef a-”

Aaron’s eyes went for a split second before he said, “Jack, turn back around and sell your cookies.”

Jack did as he was told and Aaron awkwardly ran a hand through his hair as you replayed what Jack said back in your head. Aaron wanted to talk to you. He wanted to work with you today. It could’ve meant anything, but you were currently feeling like a kid on Christmas morning.

Aaron cleared his throat. “I guess Jack wasn’t the only one that wanted to talk to you.”

You suppressed a grin, gaining the courage to look Aaron in the eyes. “And I guess Jack wasn’t the only one I came over here for.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner one shot #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner

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efyra · 4 years ago

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Bubble Bath • Fred Weasley

pairing: dad!fred weasley x mom!reader

summary: after an exhausting day at work, fred comes back home to his wonderful family.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: fluff (?); mentions of sex.

author’s note: i had a dream about having kids with fred and this idea came into my mind - so i just had to write it?

like always, i’m sorry for any grammar mistake 🥺

reblogs are always welcome

you can check my other works here

The first time Fred Weasley thought "bloody hell, this must be the happiest day of my life" - which he could remember - was in a summer of 1985 when Bill and Charlie taught him and George how to play Exploding Snap. The second was when he started his studies at Hogwarts in September 1989. The third was the following year when he and George were accepted into the Gryffindor’s Quidditch team as beaters. The fourth time was on a winter's afternoon in 1993 when he had his first kiss. The fifth was when the dream of opening a joke shop with his twin had become even closer to reality after Harry gave them the Triwizard Tournament prize. The sixth was in a 1995 night when he lost his virginity. The seventh time was the day Weasley's Wizard Wheezes opened at Diagon Alley in 1996. The eighth was in May 1998 with the defeat of Lord Voldemort. The ninth was when he met you on a spring morning in 2001. The tenth time was when you agreed to go on a date with him a few days later. And since then, Fred Weasley had lost the count.

But he remembered the most special days.

The day you kissed. The first night you spent together. The lunch his mother prepared at the Burrow so that you could be introduced to the Weasley family. When you finally said "I love you" to each other. That afternoon you agreed to have a picnic, but you didn't check if it would rain and came home soaked. The next morning that Fred woke up sick and you made him some soup. The time you two couldn't sleep then you stayed up all night talking while drinking hot chocolate. When Fred asked you to marry him on the first day of a new year. That summer day in 2004 when you and Fred said "I do" and made a vow to love each other for all eternity. The dinner where you revealed that you were pregnant with your first child together. The day Maeve Weasley was born and your world had changed completely. And since then, Fred Weasley went to sleep every day thinking, "bloody hell, this must be the happiest day of my life."

He was enchanted with every little moment.

Fred was thrilled the moment he hold Maeve for the first time and nested her in his arms; he pressed a delicate kiss on her forehead, feeling that newborn baby smell and watching her sleep peacefully, finally realizing that she was his baby - his baby to care for, to protect, to love; his daughter.

He remembered the first time Maeve opened a toothless smile, that she babbled something in the baby’s language, when she ate solid food when she was six-months-old and ended up with banana puree - made by mommy - all over her face, the way she clapped her hands when she heard Hermione singing muggle’s nursery rhymes, when she took her first steps two weeks after her one-year birthday. Fred was not ashamed to admit that he cried when Maeve first called him "Daddy", that he got emotional every time she lay on his chest and fell asleep there as if it was the most comfortable place in the world, of how he couldn't stop smiling silly while watching her dance "head, shoulders, knees and toes". Since Maeve was born, Fred Weasley thought he couldn't be happier.

But you got pregnant again; and in 2008, Alexander Weasley was born - better known as "lil’ Alex".

And Fred was, once again, in heaven.

Just like happened with Maeve, he was enchanted by his son from the moment he heard that little weeping for the first time; he couldn't help but be amazed to see that the e/c color of your irises were reflected in Alex's eyes, that his nose was very similar to his father's and that he had much more hair than his sister when she was born - and once again, he had fallen in love with that newborn baby smell.

Fred's heart melted completely when he saw the scene of you in bed holding Alex in your arms while Maeve was sitting next to you, her neck stretching so she could see her little brother more closely; he opened a broad smile with that vision, the vision of his family - his to care for, to protect, to love, his family.

That day, Fred sat next to you on the bed, taking Maeve on his lap and placing his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his body; he remembered the way you looked at him with a tender smile decorating your face and said: "you and I make beautiful babies," but before he could answer, Maeve exclaimed: "but Alex looks like smashed potato!”. Fred used his free hand to tickle his daughter briefly, who let out an angelic laugh and squirmed in his arms, saying: "not the tickle monster, Daddy!", he laughed once again, kissing Maeve's fluffy cheek; his heart seemed to barely fit inside his chest of how much love he felt at that moment. Then, your head rested on his shoulder, Fred turned his head to give you a long kiss on the temple; you, in turn, lifted your face towards your husband, sealing your lips in a very short but passionate kiss - passion for the beautiful family you built together, for the life full of joys that awaited you and without forgetting, of course, the overwhelming passion you still felt for each other.

It wasn't always easy.

Despite the joys that fatherhood brought in your lives, conciliating raising your children with your jobs and the marital relationship was something that sometimes you failed at. Sometimes you fought for silly reasons, other times for more serious issues, but you never forgot that in the first place you loved each other.

The worst fight you and Fred had was when the two of you were facing difficulties at work, and without even noticing it, you started to take your frustrations out on each other; you both spent a whole day not talking - just talking about your children - but in the late afternoon, when you and the redhead were distracted with work matters while Maeve and Alex were playing in the middle of the living room, your daughter shouted cheerfully: "Mom, Dad, look! Alex likes when I dance!", the two of you immediately dropped the papers you were reading and watched the scene before your eyes: Maeve - with 3 years-old - was making extravagant ballet moves and Alex - who had just completed 8 months - was sitting on the fuzzy carpet, applauding his sister with a smile of few teeth decorating his face. At that moment, your eyes met with Fred's, and as if you were having a mental conversation, you two agreed: "No work in this world was more important than this: Maeve dancing ballet while Alex applauded". When the children slept, you had a long talk and made up in the best possible way: in bed.

And you were fine. Better than just fine; you and Fred were happy with the life you built together. And even if some days weren't so good, the redhead would still sleep thinking that he had lived the happiest day of his life because it was one more day by your side while raising your children together, because it was one more day with his family.

Today, Fred felt exhausted; he and George stayed until later at the shop because they needed to make an inventory of their products, and even though they had several employees so they didn't need to overload themselves with work, that task was something they didn't trust anyone else to do but each other.

As soon as he arrived at his home through Floo Network, Fred was surprised that there was nobody in the living room and that no three-years-old girl jumped on his arms saying: "Daddy, Daddy, you're home!", but he heard laughter coming from the upper floor. He took off his shoes and socks, leaving them in the corner, and went upstairs; Fred followed that familiar sound and stopped in front of the bathroom suite you two shared, which was with the door ajar.

For a moment, he allowed himself to watch the scene: inside of a huge white ceramic bathtub, were his wonderful children and sitting on a stool right next to it while holding Alex - who had already completed one year old - with both hands, you were wearing only a simple t-shirt and cotton shorts, your hair was in a tight bun on the top of your head; you were laughing while looking at Maeve, who was pretending to be a fish and imitating Dory's line in "Finding Nemo" when was speaking whale - you two really thanked Hermione for all the childish entertainment she introduced to you over the years -; the little girl was talking to Alex - who was supposed to be the whale.

"Ah, so you’re there" Fred said with a broad smile on his face; Maeve exclaimed an excited "daddy", splashing drops of water on all directions when she jumped. "I thought I was abandoned" he joked, walking towards the bathtub, and squatting close to where you were. "Hi, baby."

"Hi, love" you answered, smiling sweetly and leaning slightly towards your husband so you can greet him with a peck on the lips.

Fred also greeted his children, saying tenderly: "Hi, little princess. Hi, little prince"; you two chatted distractedly while watching your children play in the bathtub - Maeve still pretended to be a fish and Alex played with a rubber duck.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"Normal" you shrugged. "Nothing new, which is a relief."

"That's good. And how are our little angels?"

"They've had dinner, played a lot and now they're taking a bath to go to bed. Did you have dinner?"

"Yes, I ate something at the shop with George." Fred placed a hand on your knee, squeezing it gently. "I'm sorry for staying..."

"Don't apologize" you interrupted him. Your husband had never helped you to take care of the children; he had never helped you because that was his job too - he wasn’t “helping” you; he was taking care of his kids. Fred never expected compliments or medals for putting his children on bed, for giving them food, for waking up in the middle of the night when they were crying or for changing diapers; he knew that those were his responsibilities as much as they were yours. "I know" you sent him a reassuring smile. Days like this when you and Fred didn't do those things together were very rare - after all, you were partners for life.

"Thank you" your husband smiled.

"And what about your day? Could you finish the inventory?" you asked.

He let out a tired sigh, watching Alex chewing on the rubber duck. "Well... yes, but not everything. I still need..."

"Daddy!" Maeve demanded his attention, interrupting him. "Look what I can do!" she said before immersing her head in the water for a short second before pulling it up again, her hair sticking to her cheeks as she wiped the water off her face. "See?" she opened her eyes and looked at her father, waiting for his answer.

The redhead didn't take long to react, quickly applauding enthusiastically. "Wow, princess! You truly are a little fish! Did you see her, Mommy?" he looked at you.

"I did, Daddy!" you smiled. "Our little Maeve already is a big girl!"

Fred got rid of his jacket and tie, rolled up his sleeves to his elbow and sat on the bathroom floor, standing next to the bathtub as he listened intently to his daughter tell him about her fun day with Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur; Maeve said that Uncle Harry and Ginny showed up for a visit, so she played with her cousins all afternoon - she was asleep when you arrived at the Burrow right after work, but Alex was very agitated.

You both took the opportunity that the little girl was very distracted and started to give your children a bath; you were soaping Alex's body while Fred washed Maeve's hair. He took the handheld shower and used it to rinse the shampoo, being careful to not let the foam fall in her eyes or ear. So, you two changed; now, you washed Maeve's body while Fred poured the baby shampoo on Alex's hair. Your husband stayed on his knees, leaning over the bathtub to hold his son firmly with one arm while using the other to give him a bath; the one-year-old was still very focused on chewing the rubber duck.

Fred laughed. "You really like this toy, don't you, big boy?" he said to his son, who looked at his direction with his big e/c eyes. "This lil' duck is tasty, isn't it?" he said in a higher pitch and musical tone. Alex pushed the rubber toy away from his mouth just to laugh at his father, bouncing in his arms. "Yeah, you like it," the redhead smiled. "Maybe you can tell Grandpa Arthur what is the function of these rubber ducks, huh?"

You were washing Maeve's armpits when you heard the sound of your son laughing; you looked at that direction and a broad smile appeared on your face as you watched Fred talking to Alex about his toy. Then, your daughter also laughed.

"Mommy!" she said between laughs. "You're tickling me!"

"I'm sorry, honey," you said with a smile, pulling the little girl close so you could give her a kiss on the cheek.

Minutes later, the children were properly dressed in their pajamas and Fred went to take a bath. And the scene he found when he returned to his room was even more adorable than the one in the bathroom: you were with your back against the headboard and, on each arm, you nested Maeve and Alex while singing them a lullaby as they were drinking hot milk from their bottle.

His daughter was the one who saw him leaning against the door, she demanded that he come to bed with you, and as soon as Fred did, Maeve left her position to lay her head on her father's chest - now you and Fred were lying on the edge of the bed and your children in the middle of you two.

"Daddy, can you tell us a story?" the little girl asked.

"I don't know, honey," he said. "Mommy was singing."

"But the song's over, isn't it, Mommy?" your daughter looked at you.

"Yes, dear" you nodded, opening a little smile.

"Will you, Daddy? Please?" Maeve made a pout. "Alex also wants you to tell us a story," she looked at her little brother, who was almost asleep on his mother's arms. "Yes, Daddy, tell us a story," she said in a soft tone - as if it was the little boy talking - "see? He wants it too!"

You both laughed at your daughter's little trick. "Well, Daddy, it seems they want you to tell us a story," you shrugged, still with a smile on your face.

"How can I deny a request from the three loves of my life, huh?" Fred smiled, squeezing Maeve in his arms and giving her a kiss on the forehead.

You listened carefully as your husband told the story of two fire-haired brothers who fought against a terrible one-eyed monster and managed to obtain a precious magical item: a map that led them to various adventures around the world. And when the two brothers discovered how to get to the Candy Land, you and Fred noticed that your children were already deeply asleep in your arms.

You both shared a look and a smile. A passionate look at the love that existed in your family. A proud smile for the life you had together.

"I love you" your husband whispered at you.

"I love you too" you whispered back.

And before Fred fell asleep, he thought, "bloody hell, this must be the happiest day of my life."

taglist: @eunoia-kth

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #dad!fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley x you #harry potter #harry potter smut #harry potter imagine #weasley imagine #weasley smut #fanfic #reader-insert #mom!reader

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bubblyani · 4 years ago

Text

Vent

(Michael Demiurgos x Reader)

A Michael Demiurgos One Shot (character solely based on TV Series)

Summary: Struggling with an issue at work, you come to LUX to vent to your friend, Lucifer. But instead, you knowingly end up venting to his twin brother, Michael. And to your surprise, it brings out unexpected results for both of you.

Rating: 18+

Warning: Alcohol use and Sexual Themes.

Word Count: 9k +

Author’s Note: My first ever Michael fic. Finally came around to writing one. Do not know if i will ever write more for him, but i am glad i did this one. Adding my usual Lucifer Taglist just in case. If you’re not a Michael fan, feel free to ignore this. But to all you thirsty Michael fans, Enjoy!

“Honey, you know I love a good cocktail. But maybe going out tonight might not be the best solution for this”

The concerned tone of Linda Martin’s voice, was challenging to pick up through the repetitive and loud music played at club LUX. Pressing the phone against your ear, you scrunched up your nose as she continued to speak from the other end of the line:

“I’m just about to lock up. But I can stay at the office a little while longer…if you wanna drop by and talk”

“Linda! HELLO! ” You exclaimed, “You have a child? Charlie! And Amenadiel, a literal angel waiting for you. Please…go home! It’s okay.” You made your assurance.

“But-”

“Honestly, I’m fine.” You stressed, moving to the right to let a stranger pass through, “And who knows?” You grinned, “Maybe a cocktail and a little chat with Lucifer might be what I need right now, you know? Maybe I can vent to him” Shrugging, you added out loud.

“Uh! Not sure if Lucifer is the right guy to give you any form of sane advice” Linda replied with doubt, “Honey, what you almost did today was-”

“True! true, I know” Frantic nodding was you could do, “But I’m already here now. And Linda! It’s been months since I saw Luci after his whole…trip thing….so…no one can stop me I guess, heh” you chuckled, eyes scanning the club from top of the stairs. You felt amused. For it certainly seemed as if you were a desperate teenager, seeking permission from her mother. Linda’s sighs echoed on the phone:

“Alright then”

With a twinkle in your eye and a spring in your step, you went down the stairs embracing the atmosphere of LUX. You dipped yourself into the pool of rhythm and ecstasy and visual pleasure the premise provided. Bobbing your head, you were impatient to make your way towards the bar. When a figure sitting there, got you excited:

“Luc-” You paused, with furrowed eyebrows. This did not seem right. That broad back seemed familiar, yet the fashion choices did not. In no universe would the one you guessed, would wear a brown jacket of that material. Tweed as you could tell. Chuckling, you were aware of your mistake. You hailed the good looking Bartender, whilst taking a seat further away from the figure.

“On the house” The Bartender intruded you with pleasantry, placing a glass before you. Vodka, neat.

“Oh-Thank you” you blurted with a smile,“It’s just what I wanted. But-” you said, raising your eyebrows, “…how did yo-”

“Cause it’s been your favorite, Darling” a familiar voice boomed your ears from the distance, “…unchanged ever since you set foot onto this place. Well done in being consistent!”

Turning back, you found Lucifer Morningstar strut his stuff with confidence towards you with a smile. Excitement. It bubbled in you.

“Lucifer!!” You clutched your chest, “Oh my-”

“Don’t you dare say ‘god’ next ” he groaned before pulling you into a hug.

“I wasn’t-I wasn’t” you chuckled in his arms, “Oh! Luci! You have NO idea how happy I am to see you face to face again” you exclaimed, pulling back to cup his face. With his sudden trip back to Hell, you were certain you would never seem him again.Until now. Or until you received a text from him a few days back announcing his triumphant return.

“And I you…” Lucifer replied, with a warm tone so affectionate.

“I mean, I’m glad you texted me but…oh buddy! Are you back for good?” You inquired with earnest.

“That’s an answer I can’t give you promptly, unfortunately” he answered, “But I’m here for now”

“In that case, I hope you can make time for me tonight, for a nice chat” you suggested, patting him on both shoulders. For in truth, the need to vent to Lucifer did not seem trivial to you as you said to Linda. It seemed essential. Behind your calm exterior was a woman in panic. You needed your friend.

“Oh! Don’t worry! I DID indeed make time” Lucifer replied, which made you smile.

“Really? that’s great. Cause I-”

“Cause actually, I’m having a little problem with the Detective. And I will only feel better if you hear me out on this”

You froze for a split second, “Oh? Yeah! Sure sure”. With lips forming a tight smile, you kept nodding, “Lay it on me, buddy. Wha-?”

Confusion was all you could spew when your friend pulled you out of your seat, grabbed your glass and started walking. All the while his gaze laid upon that mysterious figure on the other side of the bar. That figure with the broad back finally raised its head.

“Oh! don’t worry, brother. Your life doesn’t interest me anymore” the man cried out.

“Brother?” You blurted, sharpening your focus at him, only to widen your eyes, “Wait!” Blinking several times to process how that man looked identical to Lucifer, only to have an american accent instead, “That’s-He looks-Wait What?”

Lucifer sighed, “It’s my great displeasure to inform you, that’s Michael, my twin brother” he answered, through gritted teeth.

“M-Michael?” With wide eyes still, you looked back at your friend, “The actual Archangel?”

“Yes”

“You mean to tell me, that HE IS the one, who supposedly posed as you and tried to sabotage your life in LA, while you were away in Hell?”

“Wait…” Lucifer paused, looking back at you, “How on EARTH did you-?”

“Amenadiel told me” you answered, shy, “What? I got close with him and Linda ever since I started to babysit Charlie. Let’s just say your brother has gotten quite chatty, and I do like it” you added a chuckle, only to stop seeing Lucifer’s upset face.

“Well, I would have preferred to tell you all that myself” he uttered, him and you being the only stationary figures on the exciting dance floor. Noting his disappointment, you averted your eyes, “I’m sorry…I didn’t bombard you with question texts cause I heard you were busy with some celestial matters”

Lucifer’s eyes widened, “So does that mean…you never met Michael before, right?

You shook your head, “Nope, I was out of town for most of the time. Family stuff” you continued, “And I must admit, I didn’t feel the same when I stepped into the church then”

Lucifer never intended to reveal to you his true identity. However, one fateful day he had no other option. Granted, you took it well. Yet, looking back you could not help but laugh by the mere memory of it.

“Did you remember my face when you finally told me? Right inside a church too. Like-”

“Darling, Can we-?”

You paused, noticing Lucifer’s uneasy and impatient look, “Sorry, you wanted to talk, right?”

“Yes. Please! please…”

And there you were, sitting on an available VIP couch with him as he began to explain. Since his return from Hell, he and Chloe Decker were in dire attempts to naturally enter into the state of being a couple as they were supposed to be. Yet, challenges of many degrees seemed to get in the way. Including a trivial misunderstanding, leading her to believe he has not taken the role of Boyfriend into heart. How could she not? Especially when the women tend to follow him around no matter what he does. From your knowledge, you were certain Chloe was no petty woman. She was smart and rational. Yet when in love, rationality tends to fly out of the window with some emotion. So You could certainly empathize with her, yet also knew about the truth.

“…and it just hurts so much, because I’ve never cared for anyone like I do with her”

“Lucifer, I hear you” you began, with your hand being gentle on his shoulder, “But you gotta be a bit more empathetic here.” You added, crossing your legs, “You’re not just any other guy she’s dating. So her concerns are valid. I know-” nodding to his protest, “I know you’re loyal. To the extreme, in fact. And I also know you can’t help the effect your powers have on humans. You can't help when women and men come at you like magnets. Like the one who’s coming over right now” you chuckled, indicating to an older woman coming from afar. The one who sulked the moment her eyes caught you with him, “Heh! She looks so bummed-Anyways, what I was saying is, all you gotta do…” you said, looking back at him, “…is talk to her about it. Reassure her. That’s it”

With his gaze on yours, Lucifer kept nodding, “You know, the doctor…she told me the same thing” as he snapped his fingers, to which you nodded in return:

“See? You guys have something really special. I can even put in a good word with Chloe, if you want-”

“Oh darling…” Grabbing you by the shoulders, pure relief came from his voice, “…that would be so wonderful. Thank you!” He cried, before giving a chaste kiss on your cheek.

“Of course buddy” you laughed. Yet you were aware how the bubbling of nervousness only increased as time passed, “And so um…” you struggled, “…about-”

“Ah! Perfect timing!” Lucifer cried out, drawing out his phone, “A new case. Sorry darling, but duty calls”

Patting you on the shoulder, Lucifer stood up, “You’re the best, you enjoy while I’m away now! Plenty of fish here!”

“That’s not the point, I-” A heavy sigh left your lips, as you watched him wink and walk away. All before you could even blink. If it were any other night, you would have chuckled it away. Yet tonight, you were certain you were ditched. You were certain you felt used and disposed of. You were ashamed.With your now empty glass, you returned to the bar, where the bartender refilled it without question.

“Just let me pay this time, please” You insisted, taking the purse out. Except he shook his head:

“Sorry Ma’am! Lucifer said he’d cover it”

“Then take this as a tip, please” you implored, till the bartender sighed and took your money. Now finally alone with your drink, you felt each sip to be alcoholic reminder of regret. This was indeed an embarrassment. And there was Linda, actually ready and willing to listen to you. Why did you even refuse that? Taking a deep breath of resolve, you called up an Uber. Maybe there was still time to drop by at Linda’s place for a short chat, all the while you help them with little Charlie.

“The way Lucifer sticks around with charitable humans, I don’t know how he does it.”

That voice, that lighter yet sinister tone, all with that American accent. You would be lying if the hair of the back of your neck did not stand. You guessed who it was. Yet, you had to mask your surprise as you turned right with a cool, unaffected expression:

“Why?” You inquired, “…because he’s the devil as everyone claims him to be? As you so clearly wanted? Hello Michael! Nice to meet you by the way”

Raising your glass in irony, you flashed a tight smile at Lucifer’s twin brother. To which he showed no acknowledgment, but merely pausing.

“Cause he never belonged in the Silver City. Not with his attitude then. Or the one now” he said, taking a seat next to you. As he did, as the bartender offered him a drink, you could not help but observe. He certainly was the complete opposite to Lucifer. Even his posture and his noticeable right arm. But when your eyes caught the sight of his face, they widened:

“Whoa, your brother did a huge number on you there, huh?” You remarked, pointing at the huge scar that went across his face. He scoffed:

“Not surprising of Lucifer. He IS the rebel of the family, after all” he added with a salty attitude. You snickered, which seemingly made him frustrated, “So you believe him, then?” He inquired you.

“Well…” you paused, “given the fact he did that to you, his own brother…” you added, pointing at his face, “I’m guessing what YOU did to him wasn't exactly…brotherly either” you continued, “And…given the fact I know him longer than I know you, I think its pretty obvious whom I believe…”. You leaning closer to, urged him to lean in as well, “This may be hard to hear for you, but our lives definitely changed for the better ever since Lucifer came into it” you stated, sitting straight up again, “He may not be empathetic at all times, but he tries. He REALLY…tries” as you took a sip, “Even though he IS a selfish prick sometimes” whilst muttering to yourself.

“Is that why you’re drinking here alone, instead with him right now?”

That hurt. You froze, “Like I said, he tries” looking ahead, you sipped your drink, “And why are you even here?” You snapped at him, “Aren’t we LOW enough of humans for you to even associate?”

Your query did not seem ludicrous. Not with the look he gave you. For he did not look at you, he looked down on you. As if you were a weakling about to mess it all up. Just the way Amenadiel described him to be.

Yet Michael did not answer, only he just looked at you with amusement, which frustrated you in return, “What?”

“You’re afraid”

“Afrai-What? No! For one thing, I’m angry. I’M REALLY ANGRY! I-” Clearing your throat, you flashed a nervous smile at the people around you. For your loud response had attracted many. Embarrassment had swallowed you whole.

“That’s definitely what everyone can see” Michael said, “But actually…” leaning against the table, he looked right at you, “…you are afraid, aren’t you? I can sense it” confidence was rife in his voice as eyes made deep contact.

“Oh! What do you-?”

And all the sudden, the EDM had disappeared, filling yours with a ringing sound that echoed throughout. Similar to Lucifer’s mojo. An invisible force liberating you from denial or secrecy at all costs, leaving your thoughts out in the open, leaving room just for honesty.

“I-I am…” you blurted. To which he smiled:

“Good, and?”

“I’m afraid that…” you struggled, “ that I’m not…good enough”

Blinking deep, your senses returned, “Shit!” You covered your mouth, "What the HELL did you just do?” Until you gasped, “That’s YOUR mojo, isn’t it?”

He smiled even more, “Well, You’re a clever one”

“Ugh! That’s just sick. YOU’RE SICK! ” Remarking with disgust, you looked back at your drink. The feeling of being used, you could empathize deeper. However, in all honesty, he was right. You were afraid. And Michael’s victorious chuckles in the background did not help.

“Well…no wonder you’re friends with Lucifer” he added, pointing at you, “It takes an UNWORTHY one to know another”  That was when you had it. “Oh! HOHO!” Hitting both your hands on the table, you scoffed out loud, “Like YOU don’t know how I feel, Mr. High-and-Mighty!” You snapped at the now-surprised Michael “Like in all your existence, you NEVER felt what it was like to be compared?” inquiring, you shot a look at the shocked bartender with passion, “Sir, do you mind if I take these for a minute?”

“Uh! Sure!?”

“Thanks!” With a polite smile, you grabbed a small bowl of olives, a glass of ice cubes and a bowl of spicy cashews.

“Okay, let me paint you a picture, Michael” you began, fueled by the alcohol, “Imagine you’re these Olives, and you’ve been working together with Icy here for a while” you added, pointing at the ice cubes glass, “And since recent, you started to care for Icy. You feel like there’s potential between the two of you. But THEN! these Cashews come in unannounced” As you pulled the cashews bowl between the olives and ice. You took a deep breath, “Cashew is cool, Cashew is a breath of fresh air, something different. And Icy? Icy seems curious. Perhaps even interested” you scoffed, “And that’s driving you, Olive…crazy. Then you start to wonder if Cashew is better than you. You wonder whether Icy actually appreciates Cashew’s smooth, milky texture more than your meaty, salty- Oh! these are not sexual euphemisms I swear! I-”

You paused, confused. Merely upon Michael’s expression. Merely upon his silence. It felt strange to you. For it it were Lucifer listening, a million jokes and teases would have been intruding your venting. Yet here, with Michael, you merely had nothing but, space. To vent. For he simply listened with intent. And seriousness.

“And? then?” He inquired.

“Uh…” surprised, you struggled to return to your passionate state “And…because Olive-you are going mad and sour with jealousy, you’re wondering: What could you do…to make yourself feel better? How about… a rumor?” You said.

To which Michael’s eyes widened.

“How about a horrible rumor about Cashew?” You continued, “So horrible that Icy will never approach Cashew ever again” with a sad chuckle, you looked at him, “Now don’t tell me you don’t know what thats like…” you said, finally stuffing some olives into your mouth. It was sour, yet you were too hungry.

“So…did you do it?” Michael inquired, “Spread the rumor?” A quite excitement filled his voice with harmonies.

To which you shook your head.

“No, cause I know how HORRIBLE all this is” you replied with exhaustion, gulping down the rest of the drink, “Cause I know what a HORRIBLE MONSTER I am to feel all this. I don’t even know Cashew well, but I’m just in so much…CONTEMPT …towards her. That’s the word.” you added, picking up a cashew and looking at it with intent. Apart from the music playing in the background, there was silence from your listener. A few seconds passed. Still silent.

“I don’t judge you” until he finally spoke again. Which urged your eyebrows to rise.

Your phone began to vibrate on the table with a message. But you did not care.

“Now that I’m surprised to hear” you replied, looking at him, “What’s the matter? Am I not a worthless human at an even lower low now?” You inquired, mocking his earlier, smug tone. Michael took the cashew nut from your hand:

“Cause there’s nothing wrong on the way you feel” he said, letting the nut disintegrate in between his palm. He did not smile, just watched you with, empathy, “It’s…excruciating. To feel invisible. To feel unwanted. To feel -”

“Worthless!” “Worthless!”

Both muttering in syncopation, with eyes resting on one another was coincidental, yet right. Disbelief coursed through you for a few seconds until the phone vibrated once more, forcing you to look. It was the Uber driver, waiting for you outside.

“Well, Michael,” You began, “I bid you goodnight” you added, whilst getting up, “And…Thank you”

With a warm smile, you left him surprised before getting out of LUX.

A sense of regret came over you as you got into the cab, a sense of emptiness in your stomach. Would staying a bit longer have made feel better? But why? Was it Michael? You shook your head and shuddered by the ludicrous nature. The man may have looked familiar, but what the extent of your familiarity with him. Linda’s call brought you back to your senses:

“Am I too late ? Or did Lucifer put some crazy scheme in your head? What is it? a revenge prank?”

You chuckled, “Don’t worry! I didn’t talk to him about it. Honestly? he was too busy thinking about himself than listen to me” you added, sighing.

“Ahh…of course he did.”

“But I did manage to vent to someone…” you said, “Get this! It’s Michael”

“Wait! Our brother Michael?”

Amenadiel’s voice was heard. Possibly because of Loud Speaker mode.

“Hey Amenadiel” you greeted, “Uh huh! You’re right. And as expected, I didn’t get the best advice from HIM either”

“So, what now? How do you feel?” Linda asked, with Charlie crying in the background.

“Actually, I feel better. Lighter”

“Good. Maybe it’s the alcohol”

“Hmmm maybe…”

The phone call went on till you reached home, but you could not help but wonder, was it really the alcohol? Or was it Michael simply listening to you? and what he said. But how on earth an angel like him could relate to you? And instead of getting into your head and amplifying your fear, how was he responsible for your shoulders to feel lighter, and your breathing much clearer? So clear that you knew you could sleep in peace tonight.

And you certainly did.

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

The next day at work, you were in a state of self reflection. After venting to Michael the night before, you seemed to have a different perspective of everything. Also, you could not fathom on how you had the audacity to compare the coworker you had supposed feelings for, to a glass of ice cubes. And the woman you were clearly jealous of, to a bowl of cashews. You sniggered by the thought of it. But those sniggers disappeared the moment your eyes caught the sight of them together. The manner in which Cashew grew closer to Icy, caused your blood to boil. The manner in which she used her feminine charm to cross the borders to the land between professional and non, urged your fists to tighten. And Icy? Of course he played along. His smiling face and dilated pupils was proof of interest.

 “Wassup, buddy!” Not to mention his platonic greeting towards you as he passed you by.

This definitely was not teen angst. Yet, this jealousy made you feel this was. Worrying over such trivial matters. You could not take it. Icy brought you nothing but joy ever since you began your employment there. And now he had brought joy to someone else, steering him away from you. He barely spent any time with you. It felt as if the world had come to a standstill. Your fist remained clenched throughout the day. For you were fighting with your inner demons. Fighting off the desire to say it. That rumor. The most awful rumor you could ever conjure. The rumor you knew people would believe in an instant. For you were never the gossipy type. You had the advantage. So why not?

But no! The image of Linda came to your mind. Her look of disapproval. Her potential look of disappointment. She was your shield and sword against those demons. Even Michael’s words echoed in your mind.

“Cause there’s nothing wrong on the way you feel. It’s…excruciating. To feel invisible. To feel unwanted. To feel …worthless!”

This impulse to hurt. It was never the real you. Simply the version who felt invisible and unwanted. You were filled with clarity by the end of the day, yet you were exhausted. Emotionally. The damage left in your mentality was heavy. You needed a drink. With the utmost passion. And you needed to do so at LUX. Why? You just needed to.

Still in your office shirt untucked, over the tight skirt and jacket, you knew you looked exhausted in the midst of the beautiful people at LUX. So exhausted that even the slow flashing lights caused slight dizziness. But you managed to steer towards the bar.

The sight of that familiar hunched, broad back donning the brown, tweed jacket, brought you sighs of relief. Was that happiness?

“Did you ever leave LUX last night? Or is this your new place of residence?” You inquired with tease, causing Michael to jump as you took a seat next to him.

“Ha-ha! Very funny” he replied, acknowledging your presence, “And I should ask YOU the same. You come here every night after work?”

"No, just wanted to meet Lucifer, that’s all” you said, stretching yourself on your stool. Liar.

"Well, he’s not here” his brother replied.

Good. “Oh, that’s too bad” you uttered, “But erm…since I’m here, Oh! What the hell! The usual please!…Thanks” you smiled at the bartender. Whilst you held your drink, You felt Michael’s gaze on you. “What?” You turned to him.

“You’re not worried? about my brother being mad?” He inquired, “Seeing you fraternizing with the enemy?” Surprise was instilled in you, as he was nothing but suspicious.

“Look…” you began, “I may be a human, but no one owns me, okay? And you may act like you’re his enemy but, you’re STILL his brother”, mouthing your thanks to the bartender for your drink, you turned your focus back,“Besides, it’s not like you guys can’t share me, right? Not that anyone of you cares.” Chuckling, you continued “And we’re JUST talking…no one’s getting hurt from that. BUT…” you paused, pointing your index finger at him, “…if you think you can get me to talk about Lucifer and spill anything important about him, anything that would benefit your so called mission? then you might as well give up and leave…or fly away or…whatever”

Your monologue left him silent. Yet he did not leave. Which left you confused, looking away as you started sipping on your vodka. Which even left you to question: why then was he even at Lux?

“So…” instead, Michael cleared his throat, “How was work today, Olive?”

You froze. Definitely the most surprising question from him.

“’s alright.” You muttered low, looking ahead still.

“And Icy and Cashew? They didn’t give you a hard time today?”

Pleasant disbelief came over you, “You…remembered those names” you inquired looking at him, “Wait!” Except that smile faded, “What’s going on? Is- this is a trick right? You’re trying to get me to trust you or whatever” you cried out, pointing at him accusingly, “Heh! Nice try, Michael” you snapped.

“No! I’m serious” he protested, “I mean, What’s so great about…Cashew that you feel threatened by her?” Ignoring you, he kept on with his curiosity. As you studied his face, you realized. Mockery did not exist in his tone. Not at that moment. Genuine interest, that was the only occupant. And in truth, a part of you was dying to unveil.

“Well, for starters…” you began.

And thus, the flood gates opened. With liberty, you elaborated. More on the man you adored, and the woman you envied. And the more you elaborated on them, the more you realized how average they all were. How they were simply were greater versions in your mind than in reality. They were on a pedestal. But what fascinated you the most was the listener. Instead joking mindlessly or being distracted like Lucifer, Michael in truth listened to you. He listened with intent. As if his life depended on it. He reminded you of a hardworking student. Which was strange, yet adorable at the same time. A breath of fresh air. The manner in which his face mirrored your anger and frustration, it frightened you. For he was relating to you to the core.

“…Even today when I saw them talking, and when I saw him giving her all the attention I would have LOVED to have gotten, I felt so…powerless. Ugh!” You groaned, shaking your head. To which Michael sighed:

“It’s the same way I felt when everyone in the Silver City was raving about how well Lucifer was doing here on earth and of his…growth” he scoffed. You could not help but chuckle a bit.

“Sorry but, he IS growing” you replied, making him grunt with disgust, “BUT at the same time, as much as I hate to say it, I get it now. How you feel…” your chuckle died, turning to him with a sombre expression. One that he was caught with surprise, and had returned back to you within seconds. An expression of understanding.

A wave of emotion came over you. So much that you longed to reach out and offer a hug. And you almost did, pushing oneself off the stool to stand.

“MICHAEL!”

You both jumped, when Lucifer bellowed from the top of the stairs from afar. Most occupants froze by his booming tone to catch a glimpse, resuming back to their indulgences soon after.

“What are you still doing here?” Morningstar demanded, descending down the stairs, “And talking to MY friend out of all people? What? You infiltrating other people in my life now?”

“That’s definitely NOT what he was doing, Lucifer. We were NOT talking about you, if that’s what you were wondering” you began in a serious tone, “In fact he was just being a good Samaritan” you added when Lucifer finally stood before you.

“What? Michael? Good?” He snarled, shooting his brother a look of disgust, “Ugh! Get out of my sight” he said through gritted teeth. A heavy pang was felt in your heart. But Michael did not flinch. He merely smiled with smug.

“Gladly,” he stood up, “I don’t enjoy looking at YOU anyways, brother”

The pang in your heart grew stronger. Finally you managed to notice the toxicity of self hate. But this was not the time for self reflection. Backing in to the crowd, Michael disappeared. Shaking your head, you sighed.

“Well, now that vermin is out of our midst-Wait! Where are YOU going?” Lucifer cried out, seeing you grab your things.

“Home” you replied, sliding off your stool with anger, “You know what Michael wanted to ask to me about? My life…and the problem I was having in it” you kept going, “I tried to tell YOU my problem last night, I really tried. But you were just too selfish to make it all about you, and then leave me all alone here” you cried out, to which he appeared surprised, “But Michael? He was the ONLY one who actually stuck around to listen to me vent. And no! It was no ploy to get BACK at you” you added, pointing at him, “I could tell He actually cared and he actually related. That's ALL what happened” as your voice turned soft, “Lucifer, I needed you” you pressed your lips, “I needed my friend. I even missed a chat with Linda just to come see you” you felt your nose itch and turn sour, “I’m not saying you have to skip a case for me. But at least, have the heart to check back with me or-” you chuckled, shaking your head, “What am I doing? Who am I talking to?” With another sad chuckle, you stood straight "Sorry for storming out. Bye!”

“D-Darling!”

Lucifer cried out watching you walk away. Sniffing, you quickly made your way out of the premises. There it was, that heaviness once again.

If only Michael was around.

Your eyes widened by the thought, as you were laying on your bed later that evening. Why on earth would you even imagine that? With a heavy heart and a tired mind, you drifted off to sleep faster that ever before.

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

The next day, Icy and Cashew were in each other’s arms at work. And you could not give a flying fuck.

Yes. To your surprise, not a single bone in your body shook with jealousy. All the sudden, they did not seem to matter much. As if you could just chuckle and brush them off of your life. And those shoulders, they were tense no more. Seeing Icy, you were nothing but unfazed. Icy’s turtle neck top caught your eye, making you smile for a bit. Michael wears a top just as similar. Your eyes widened again. Why would you smile at that? And why would you think of him all the sudden?

Your Why’s were not answered, instead the Arch Angel came to thought too often even during your lunch time. Even as you munched on your sandwich. About the most random facts, to be exact. You thought of his hair. Messier than Lucifer’s. Your stomach jumped by the thought. Messy hair, you found it attractive. Was that why you found Michael attractive? Could that possibly be your type? Don’t you dare, you thought. But was it? His genuine curiosity and concern towards during the past two nights had managed to send you to confusion. Was this really attraction? Or were you just bored? But if then, why on earth was your heart filled with concern for him last night? Your stomach began to flutter, while your breathing lost its consistent slow pace. With your head and heart filled with many questions, only one place had all the answers.

LUX.

Walking down the stairs, you found yourself fixing your hair more than usual. All whilst imagining being looked at up and down. By who? You knew exactly. Just afraid to admit it to yourself. With your heart beating fast as the EDM, you began to straighten your shoulders. All the sudden, a hand rested on your forearm:

“Darling…”

Your excitement left unannounced, for your guess was wrong. “Lucifer” you breathed, giving a small smile.

“Can we talk?” He inquired. Upon your agreement, there you both were, sitting together on the couch once again. Silence ruled for the initial few minutes as you watched him pour himself a drink. As you watched him gulp the shot down.

“What’s wrong Luci? I’m starting to get worried now”

“I’m sorry” “No, take your time with the shot.I-”

“No, I’m sorry about before”

He stressed, looking at you, “You were right. I was…selfish. I was too blind to see how you needed me that night.” He added, taking your hand with both of his, “You have always been such a great friend who had never let me down. You were always there for me… and the detective. And what I did was-”

“Lucifer, it’s alright. I forgive you”

You replied. With a sad smile, he pulled you in for an embrace. You could never be mad at him for too long. Patting him in the back, you pinched his cheeks with tease, inviting laughter out of both. All was well.

“And, looks like you have some company” you began, pulling back and motioning towards Chloe Decker standing a few feet away. She smiled, waving at the two of you.

“I appreciate you talking to me, buddy” you said, before you watched them reunite and move to the dance floor together. Their happiness together was rewarding to watch. Their companionship brought you warmth. A warmth that reminded you of a someone. You missed that someone. And it was clear the need could only increase.

Your eyes spotted the bartender, posing the query to which he shook his head in reply. You rushed to the washroom area. Nothing there. As you walked, a particular room caught your eye. An office room of sorts. Halfway open. Your heart rate sped up, as you ran inside it. Could it be?

But no, nothing. No one.

You sighed. Taking your time, you took a good look around. Seemed to be one of the finance related rooms at LUX. The accounts office? Possibly. Painted in the similar color scheme as the club, without the flashing lights. Only replaced with cupboards in the back, with a table and comfortable chair. Will you never see him again? As you turned away, yo could not help but wonder. Staring at the beautiful painting that hung, you were urged to clasp your hands together in prayer.

And in pure desperation, you prayed for him. Full of devotion.

Your racing heart felt more evident when the sound of huge wings flapping reached your ears. Spinning around, you gasped.

It was him.

Sitting on the big chair with his legs crossed, he was quite surprised to see you.

“You called?” He inquired, “For-For me?”

You could not help but chuckle, “….and it worked” you said, all the while you crossed yourself with the left hand: father, son and the holy spirit, “…and you actually came. Wow” exclaiming soft, you realized he still was surprised: “Why did you call me?”

You paused, “I-I just wanted to check on you…after last night” you explained, slowly tugging the fingers of your left hand with your right, “I-” taking a deep breath, you continued, “I’m sorry you had to leave like that cause of me” with a sad tone. But to which Michael scoffed:

“Please. You make it sound like there was something important for me to leave -” he paused, seeing your sad face unchanged, “I-I didn’t mean it like that. I-I’m sorry”

But to which you shook your head, “No, you’re right. Compared to all that you know and are, I’m JUST a grain of sand. Smaller even.” You chuckled, taking a few steps forward, “I just-I wanted to thank you” a soft smile came over you, “You…listening to me vent, it made me feel a whole lot better.”

You did not expect him to look down and nod in a shy demeanor. Yet he did, and it was quite adorable.

“And I’m sorry, for saying it’s sick. About your power, your …mojo.” You added, “It may not have been what you wanted or chosen. Or maybe it was. But…” Pausing, you gulped “…that’s what makes you…you, and I should respect that. Regardless if you were a human or an angel”

Looking back up at you, his eyebrows were raised with surprise once again. As if he could not believe someone actually said that to him. To him. To Michael.

“Isn’t it possible…that you might feel this sympathy towards me…because I remind you of Lucifer?” He inquired with suspicion.

“Are you kidding me? You’re SO different” you scoffed, walking towards him, “Sure, anyone might say the looks are the same, but still I see so much of a difference”finally standing close to him, as you leaned against the table, “The AURA is different. The empathy is different” you smiled, “And that makes you even LOOK more different. You ARE your own” taking a deep breath, you continued, “And you actually…GET me. At least you managed to the last few days” you added with a shy chuckle.

Aside from a shy chuckle, you felt your cheeks heat up. Many times you have spoken to Lucifer of many a things. Yet, never did you feel this way before his presence. Yet, with Michael, you were certain you would combust any second. And the fact he actually chuckled back shy, brought you so much bravery to continue:

“That night when your brother ditched me, I never felt more alone in the this world, until I started talking to you” you gulped, “It was like at that moment, you were the ONLY one who knew. And it set me free” taking another deep breath, “I thought you’d fuel my jealousy. But instead, you inadvertently took me out of it. Michael, do you realize you did something great there” you chuckled, before reaching out to take his ailing right hand. A part of you worried he might slap it away, yet he did not. Thus you held it in a gentle manner, all the while his gaze was on yours.

You continued, “I needed Lucifer, I needed my friend that night. But he chose not to be there. But…YOU did. You didn’t choose to be there. But you chose to stay. Whatever your intensions were, it didn’t matter. You were there. And I’m grateful” you breathed.

Gentle were your movements as You tried to put his hand back on the arm of the chair, but gasped when you realized his hand did not let yours go. Michael cleared his throat.

“I have to admit…” he said, gulping to your surprise, “I didn’t feel alone when I was with you either” as he gave your hand a small squeeze. Small it may have been, yet it sent you tremors so big to your body and your heart.

“You ask people what they fear of, right?” You inquired. To which he smiled smug:

“Bingo”

“Well…” you chuckled, “It’s such a pity you can’t ask me what I desire…”

Groaning, disgust stained his face, “What? Like my dear brother Luci-”

“But that’s okay” you intruded, “So…Go ahead. Do it” you said, leaning a little forward, “Ask me. Do what you do”  With his hand still on yours, he leaned forward as well. Eyes growing dark, he was in his element:

“What ARE you so afraid of?”

His query, it echoed in your ears, coursing through your body entirely. Awakening every cell of your body, his query summoned them to reveal the truth in you. Your pulse raced a competitive race when you finally answered:

“I’m afraid to die…” you began, “…without…being with you”

His mouth parted, especially when you pushed yourself closer to him, “…without being with you at least once…” you whispered, feeling both your breaths syncopating, “For just one…moment”

Your eyes were tortured by his lips that were a mere few centimeters away. Body combusting even further, the water to calm your fire or the fuel to increase it was right there before you. Would he refuse? Possible. Yet, you knew regret would follow you like a shadow all your life if you did not do this now. Pushing yourself forward, you placed your arms on his forearms as your shivering lips made contact with his, forming a gentle kiss.

A gentle kiss, to which he responded.

This kiss, it felt like home. By home, it was being so understood. It was feeling relief. And at the same time, it was being the place for inhibition and no judgements. It was liberation. That was kissing Michael felt like. Applying more pressure with your lips, you kissed him more as you pulled him to her by his turtle neck. Words did not exist, yet your lips begged him to not hold anything back. For you could understand.

Yet he pulled away in an instant.

Embarrassment came over you. Were you being judged?

No, only disbelief was painted on his face. And without a second to spare, he swooped in back, to kiss you with an equal amount of pressure. As if to respond. His lips told you he liked what he tasted. For it was the taste he could relate to. For you both shared a bitterness, something borne out of jealousy. You were both victims of it. And it showed. Yet, it was the empathy you could both share as well. Not to mention the pleasure from the kiss, the softness of the lips.

Pushing him back to his chair, You straddled him. Your tight skirt may have ridden up high , almost all of your thighs were exposed. Yet it did not matter to you. For you and him, were busy conversing, busy venting with these kisses.

Kisses that perfectly described the suffering and the frustration felt through inadequacy and insecurity. The anger that urged them to throw away all logic. These kisses were nothing ordinary.

Hands grew busy. With yours on his hair, his right remained around your waist while his left grabbed your left breast over your silk top. Gasping, your pulled away to look at him.

“I’ve seen others do it” Michael explained, “Other humans” he seemed a little shy.

To which you chuckled, “… and…uh do you like it?”

You inquired as you guided his hand, at the opening through the unbuttoned area. Your body tingled by his touch on your bare skin above your chest, “cause I do...very much” you moaned into his lips. He shuddered.

“Do you like it, Michael?”

“Yes-” He breathed, all before kissing you again. This time his kisses were filled with more gusto. Which you welcomed.

His gusto urged you to unbutton your silk shirt, peel it off to dispose. Even crossing the border to unhook the bra, relieving yourself from it soon after. Your bare torso, finally soaked itself in the hot atmosphere, while your lower body remained clothed. Your tight skirt, stockings and heels. Straddling an Arch Angel half dressed, never what you had imagined.

The moment both his hands rested on your bare back, you were attacked with chills. Chills so strong, your shudders broke the kiss, urging him to gaze upon your face. Gaze unmoved, you took his hands, offering him permission by placing both over your exposed bosom. He may not be the devil, yet he was a tease. For like a blind man, his hands moved around them, with detail and slow pace. As if to note and remember every inch. His touches were not sloppy. They were careful. He watched you wince and face contort even by a millimeter as he touched you. And when his hands brushed against the two erect buds that were your nipples, your sounds grew louder. Loud enough for you to press your nose against his. Unlike before, he was not looking down on you. Instead he seemed marveled. Even so, when his eyes moved towards where his hands were, to gasp and envy at what he was missing.

With a deep breath, he simply held on to you. With a deep breath, he pressed his face against your chest, inhaling you and your skin with passion. The manner in which his nose caressed your two buds, sent tremors down below. His lips felt lonely, speaking out his rights finally, as they kissed the highest peaks, proceeding to latch on to them, one at a time. Moans were justified when his tongue began to lick, when his mouth began to suckle with pressure. Was this instinct? Was this based on his observation? Your curiosity was interrupted when his teeth sank on below your left breast, forming a bite. Causing you to hiss. Looking at his mark with pride, his eyes caught yours:

“I don’t want to share you with my brother” he growled.

“And you don’t have to” you assured, taking his tweed jacket off, “…I never wanted him that way. Not like this” breathless reply formed as you felt his noticeable erection over his pants, “Oh!-” you paused, as he gasped, “-Do you want me to stop?”

“No don’t-ah!”

Unbuckling his pants, you were not dainty when his manhood finally sprung out of captivity. Shuddering, you marveled at his growth. So perfect. So certain of it’s need for you. So erect. Reaching out, your touch was delicate. And you were aware of how damp you were in many a places. While your lips took his own, your hands began to stroke his growth, inciting moans from pleasure.

“Fuck…you’re perfect, Michael…” you breathed between kisses. The region between your thighs warned you with an overdose of moisture. Slowly moving closer to him, your lips pulled away, “You know how this goes. We can stop if you want-”

“Never!”

His thunderous reply, was more than enough for you to gather courage. Did not take long for you to lift yourself up, shift your dampened panties aside to take him on. Enough for his generous growth to be engulfed by your opening. Sinking down, it was a perfect fit. Another intimate step taken as you both began to vent to one another in an entirely different level. Your body spoke with passion as your lips did. And so did his. The rhythm was syncopated, for the empathy was shared. Relatable yet passionate. His hands held on to your buttocks while yours dug under his turtle neck top, feeling his bare stomach and chest.

“Oh Father” Michael cried, throwing his head back.

“Ah! Michael” you moaned. Looking back at you, he held you tighter:

“I wanna-I wanna be in this moment… for Eons”

“Ah! Michael!”

His eyes grew darker, "You’re mine! Only mine!” He growled. To which you nodded: “Ah! Michael!”

“Why-?” frustrated, he inquired, “Why aren’t you saying anything?What-”

He paused when you grabbed his face, “I didn’t say anything. Cause YOU… are all I can think of right now, Michael” you panted, kissing him once again with passion. Which he did not mind. With bodies united as well as the lips, you both vented so loud, anyone could have heard. Yet, who would bother at a nightclub?

“I can think of only you” you breathed, as you moved faster, “Nothing else. No one else-Ah!” you cried out, feeling the finishing point appearing sooner than expected. Until you finally did, as you felt fireworks within you. The view was enriched when Michael joined the finish line, causing you to lift yourself up while he had his release. His cries of pleasure ,his winces made it all worthwhile. With a deep exhale, you straddled him once again, holding him tight.

“Wow…” Michael exclaimed, all sweaty, “…that was-wow” As much as you felt the same, a heavy feeling came over you. A wave of realization.

“I'm sorry” You panted, averting your eyes. His smile left in an instant.

“What? Why?” Impatience was heavy in his voice. In response, you offered a passionate kiss. A kiss to relive your union one more time. Your frail heart had fallen victim once again. Pulling away, you cupped his face:

“I’m sorry…” you began, “If I ever end up falling in love with you”

But to your surprise. He appeared content. Especially when he cupped your face in return:

“Then i’m sorry too…” he said, “…if I ever do the same”

——————————————————

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valentineforlemonandcherry · 3 years ago

Text

Ash & Skylight Part 2

This is currently planned to be a mid-length story between You/Reader, Charlie Weasley, and Oliver Wood.

Summary: All you’ve ever wanted in life was to know where exactly you could plant your feet in the ground and grow into yourself. Clearly, you never meant to fall for a certain ginger-haired, freckly, dragon-chaser called Charlie Weasley. Even moreso, you certainly never meant to invite in a particular overly-competitive, Quidditch fanatic named Oliver Wood into your life. And yet, perhaps there is something to be found in the skies, after all; perhaps there is a bit of promise in risking it all in the wide, blue world above.

[Multi-Post Story] [Charlie Weasley x Reader] [Oliver Wood x Reader] [Warning: Story Contains Explicit Smut.] [Warning: Rough Sex.] [Warning: Nonconsent.] [Warning: Unclear Relationship Boundaries.] [Warning: Emotional Distress.] [Warning: If you don’t like sad endings, this one may not be for you.]

❂ Click Here for Ash & Skylight Home Page (All Chapter Links) ❂

*Please do not repost or copy my work without my permission. Thank You!

“Can’t you cut us some slack?”

“No, Fred.” You crossed your arms over your chest stoutly. “I have to draw the line somewhere.”

“But listen,” Fred wheedled, “we’ve got a brilliant prank planned.”

“I don’t want to know - ”

“C’mon, all the Slytherins in itchy knickers. It’ll be just beautiful.”

You sighed. “Fred, please.”

“Just close your eyes, and it’ll all go away. We’ll go away,” George told you earnestly.

“George, you’re talking to your prefect. I can’t just close my eyes and let you go.”

“Oh no, you’re starting to sound like Percy,” George said. He pretended to shake his head solemnly at you, but a grin was spreading across his face. “Don’t stoop down to his level, please.”

“I’m not stooping to any level. You guys are the ones that are causing all this ruckus.”

Just then, Charlie came around the corner.

“Ah, if it isn’t our prefect’s favorite Weasley!” Fred said excitedly, springing into action.

“Fred? George? What’re you two - ?”

“Excellent timing!” Ignoring his questions, Fred grabbed Charlie and pulled him over, until Charlie was standing in front of you, wearing a rather bemused look on his face.

“Distract her for us,” Fred whispered into Charlie’s ear.

Before you could say another word, the twins were gone, disappearing into the next hallway.

“Hey!” you called after them. You started to run past Charlie, but he caught you by the waist and held you back.

“Oh, come on, let them have a bit of fun. It’s not going to kill anybody,” Charlie said to you.

You looked up at Charlie. “Let go. I’ve got to go catch them.”

Charlie lifted his eyebrow at you. “Do you really like chasing after them that much?”

“What?” you said in disbelief. “You think I actually like chasing them down?”

“Well, if you don’t, then why are you so adamant about going after them? Why do you take this so seriously?”

At Charlie’s question, you suddenly found yourself deflating. Because it’s the only thing I can be good at, you thought miserably. I’m not like you, Charlie. I don’t know what I want to be. I don’t know if I’m good at anything worthwhile. The least I can do is meet the expectations of the duties given to me…

You sighed, suddenly sinking in your own self-doubt. Why am I only good at following orders? Why don’t I have any ambitions or ideas of my own? Even Fred and George know what they want to be, even if it’s just being a pair of jokesters.

“Hey.” Charlie’s voice tugged you back to reality.

“Um, sorry.” You shook your head and stepped away from Charlie. “You’re right. I should just let them go tonight.”

Charlie watched you for a moment. You didn’t seem to realize that you were hugging yourself a little. Something’s bothering her, he realized. He sighed. He wasn’t sure what he had said exactly to put you in such a depressed state of mind, but it bothered him.

Charlie reached out and pulled you to him, embracing you.

“What are you doing?” you asked him curiously, looking up at him. He’s never hugged me before out in the open like this.

“Well,” Charlie murmured, “I did tell Fred and George that I’d distract you somehow…”

* * * * * * * * * *

That was how, on Friday night, you found yourself in Charlie Weasley’s bed.

You were sitting on top of him, with your thighs spread wide open. You were leaning back, with your hands resting on his thighs. Your back was arched, giving Charlie a lovely view of your sweet little tummy and your breasts, still somewhat cupped in your lacy bra.

Your shirt had already been cast off, along with your skirt, and they were lying haphazardly on the floor, besides Charlie’s shirt, pants, and boxers. But you still had your socks on, which Charlie loved, because he thought you had such sexy legs. And your bra was half-on and half-off, as Charlie had been a bit too impatient to take it off of you, but one of the straps had slipped off of your shoulders, and Charlie could see your pretty, puffy nipple poking out of one of the cups.

Appreciating the view very much, Charlie watched your breasts bouncing in their lacy cups, in time to the rhythm with which you lifted your beautiful, curvy hips before sitting back down on his cock, over and over again.

Good girl, milking my cock for all you’re worth, Charlie praised you in his head. He ran his hands adoringly up and down your thighs, encouraging you to bounce higher and faster on his cock.

Your head fell back and you panted loudly as you worked yourself to please yourself, and to please Charlie. Feeling his strong thighs beneath your hands and his warm hands coaxing you to keep fucking yourself on his cock like this, you kept going, even though your legs and arms were shivering with the effort of bouncing yourself on top of Charlie. Besides that, your tummy was becoming all tight, and – and –

“Cum for me. Let go,” Charlie growled, now taking your thighs in his hands and pushing you down, all the way, on his stiff cock.

“Hah…! Ah… Ah, ah, ah!” you gasped out.

Soft tears blurred your vision. Your head fell back, arms extended, as you arched your back all the way to take in the tension pushing into your little tummy – and then exploding, blossoming out, in soft spirals of golden and pink constellations flurrying inside of your soft, wet pussy…

And when you finally came for him, Charlie suddenly took charge. A strong wave of needing to be with you, to reward you, to taste you, crashed into Charlie intensely. He grabbed your hips and tossed you backwards on the bed. Then, wrenching your thighs apart, he buried his head between yours thighs, hungrily sucking at your tight, throbbing cunt.

“Ah! C-Charlie!” you gasped.

Charlie pushed his tongue against your wet pussyhole and shook his head back and forth, all the while moaning right into your pussy.

“Ah! Nngh…!” Your thighs collapsed, and wrapping your legs around Charlie’s shoulders, so that your ankles crossed over his back and your feet conjoined into a pretty “X” against his back. At the same time, you fell back on the mattress.

“F-Fuck! Charlie, ah!” you moaned loudly.

Charlie bit lightly on your clit, sending a jolt deep into your trembling core.

Blindly feeling around for something to grab onto, you managed to find Charlie’s pillow. Dragging it to your mouth, you bit down hard on the corner of his pillow to muffle your moans, which you were unable to hold back, but which you were also painfully aware were likely ringing through the walls of the dormitory.

Charlie’s groan, too, was quite muffled, but only because he was all caught up in your legs and had his mouth pressed to your sweet, now creamy, little pussy. If someone were to walk in right now, all they would see of Charlie was his broad, muscular back, his strong, wide hands holding your thighs open just enough to let him eat you out all sloppy and hungrily, and his short ginger hair, peeking out from between your straining, trembling thighs.

“Mmm, mmm, mmpfh!” you half-moaned and half-gasped your way through yet another orgasm. His mouth, oh… always makes me a – a- ah… a mess, you thought, with your thoughts shuddering as uncontrollably as your soft little shape was. Your hips shivered all over the bed, even with Charlie holding you down on his bed.

Just then, Charlie abruptly sat up, breaking your hold on him easily, despite how desperately you had wrapped your legs around him. Without a moment’s hesitation, he positioned himself between your legs again, and he pushed his cock back into your orgasming pussy.

“Mm!” you squeaked out, not knowing how to quite register the sensation of Charlie’s broad, thick cock spreading out your pulsing, tightening pussy walls after having just cum for him twice. But he – he must know… you wondered blearily. “C-Charlie…”

“What is it, love?” he whispered to you.

“I’m all – all tight and wet. I don’t think I can – ah…” Your eyes rolled back for a moment as Charlie held your thighs open and thrust into you in short, fast, and hard strokes a few times.

“Don’t think you can what?” Charlie asked you, his voice rising into an intense, low growl as he pumped his cock into the tightest, wettest pussy he’d ever been in – and that was the truth. Yes, Charlie slept with other girls. You both knew that you weren’t exclusive. Neither of you had ever felt the need to talk about it, or to solidify your relationship into anything more formal or serious.

And yes, because of that, there was a slight awkwardness between the two of you. Because, even though it had never been said aloud, Charlie realized that you didn’t sleep with other boys, and that, in fact, you had only ever made love with him. Charlie wasn’t sure what to do with this information. He never, ever wanted to hurt you, but at the same time, he had no intention of claiming you, and letting you claim him. He had his whole life to live, he felt, and he simply had no desire to be with anyone long-term. Add to that the fact that he was two years above you, and would be graduating at the end of this year, while you still have a couple of years at Hogwarts, and that in those two years Charlie would be off in the remotest places in the world to chase dragons, it was impracticable to start anything with you. But when Charlie had you like this, had you in a moment where you finally lowered your tightly kept inhibitions, he was about two steps away from falling in love with you.

“I can’t… Mmm! Charlie, p-please, can’t t-take anymore,” you whimpered out pitifully.

“Yes, you can, babe, you can take me,” Charlie told you ferverntly. Oh God, her little pussy’s clenching all over me, and she’s so warm inside right now. Feels so good, so fucking good to take her like this.

“Ah! B-But…! Oh…” You moaned lowly, before finally whispering, “Y-Yes.”

“Yes what?” Charlie pushed you, wanting to hear you say it, needing your confirmation.

“You know…” you whispered, blushing.

“I don’t care,” he said brusquely. “Tell me. Tell me you’re my good girl. Tell me I can fuck this little pussy however I want. Tell me I can make you mine.”

You nodded to all of this, your little head going, yes, yes, yes – for it was exactly what you wanted, with him, with Charlie Weasley.

“Yeah?” Charlie breathed out softly, seeing you nod.

“Yes,” you whimpered softly. “F-Feels so good. Because it’s you.”

You paused and bit down on your lower lip, knowing even when you were all fucked-out that you shouldn’t have said that last bit.

Now, Charlie wasn’t even looking at you. Still, he praised you for your confession. “Good girl, yes, good fucking girl, taking me so well,” he growled. And this time his growl had a deep thrum of tenderness throughout it, betraying his genuine care for you.

Thank goodness, you thought, thank goodness he doesn’t find me repulsive for liking him so much. But even though you were saying ‘thank goodness’ in your head, in truth, your feelings were more complicated than that. There was a soft, but deep hurt rising within your heart.

What was interesting, however, was that Charlie didn’t seem entirely indifferent to your confession. No, he had definitely become tender with you after you let that short confession slip out, even if he didn’t respond directly to it. Only, with Charlie Weasley, his intensity always melded with his tenderness, so that the more he felt for you, the harder he took you, until his hips were very much pushing yours into his bed, pounding away into your perfect little cunt.

“Mm, mm, mmm!” you moaned out again, trembling all over in soft little shivers taking over your entire body. Oh God, he’s fucking me so hard. So, this is what happens when he gets to take control. Nngh! Ah, ah, ah! I c-can’t focus on anything except to t-take his cock. Uhn, he fucks me so good. S-so good!

A short burst of air left Charlie as a harsh gasp as he managed to fuck his entire length into your tight hole, over and over again, until your already wet and creamy cum turned bright pink, split open and fucked raw by Charlie’s thick cock pounding into you and claiming your cunt as his for the night.

In your mind, you kept bleating out wantingly, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie… so that the effect of his taking you like this was not only physical, but emotional. In fact, you didn’t seem to be aware of it, but you were hugging onto his pillow for dear life now, almost sobbing. So, when Charlie looked down at you, he saw you with your arms crossed so tightly against his pillow, while your long legs were split apart as far as they would go, giving him permission to push his cock into you as deep as he possibly could.

Charlie groaned heavily. You were so beautiful, and so very cute to him. Just to think that he was fucking your little pussy like this… God. He was so close to cumming now. He just needed your pussy to give his cock that last tight squeeze. And if you were a good girl, a really good girl, you’d do that for him, Charlie knew. Reaching down, he slapped your little pussy with his hand.

A single exclamation point took up the entire space of your mind. You went so very still, and then…

Oh… You melted entirely. Your whole body gave up and went limp, and a stream of sweet white cream left your cunt, thicker and sweeter than you’d ever given before.

Charlie moaned hotly as he felt his cock enveloped by the warmth of your beautiful cream. Yes, that’s it. That’s exactly what I wanted. What a good little girl. She reacts just the way I dream of. Yeah, she’s perfect, all sweet and shivering for me. And so tight, so very tight. I want to cum in her so bad. But I can’t. Shit, I can’t help it – I’m gonna – Fuck, pull out, pull out! He barely pulled out in time. With a heavy groan, he messily came all over your tummy. After an intense moment, Charlie looked down to see his cock absolutely covered in your cream. Charlie moaned. So hot, to see her tight little body covered in my cum. He reached down and pumped his cock in his hand a few times, making sure he was cumming all over you.

You shut your eyes tightly and gasped in surprise as you felt his warm cum spurt all over your body, even up to your breasts. But you couldn’t properly respond or even say anything. You were too busy panting and whimpering and trying to stop yourself from shivering. It was hard to find your way back to your own consciousness, after a man had fucked you the way Charlie Weasley did – tenderly, deeply, and roughly.

Charlie, who had finally finished cumming, dropped forward onto the bed, leaning over you. He grabbed his pillow, ripped it away from you, and chucked it over the side of the bed. He wanted to kiss you, damn it, and that stupid pillow was in the way.

You barely managed to blink against the sudden light flooding your vision, when everything was blocked out again, because Charlie had grabbed your face and was kissing you hard, sinking his lips against yours hard enough to push your head back into his mattress.

“Love,” he whispered, his mouth pushing against yours, as if to steal all of your pants for himself, “you’re amazing.”

You barely managed to whimper out a mangled version of his name, “Char – lie,” before he caught your lips in another kiss, and he kept you unable to say anything other than his name for the rest of the night, or at least, until you fell asleep in his arms.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next morning, you both had to get up early. Charlie had his Quidditch match, and you had to conduct your morning prefect shift. However, when you asked Charlie, “Shouldn’t you get up now?”, he replied sleepily, “Five more minutes.”

So, you got up first. Charlie watched you from his bed, admiring your frame in the dim morning light, until you were fully dressed.

“Bye,” he murmured gruffly, still half-buried under the covers and missing your warmth besides him already.

“Good luck at the match,” you replied, waving to him. Then, you stepped out of him room and slipped down the staircase, back to your prefect’s dormitory.

However, when you entered your room, you found a note slipped under your door. You bent over and picked it up. Holding it up to catch the sunlight, you read, “Seems like you’re out, but if you see this note, please tell the couple in the Gryffindor’s boys’ dormitory to shut up. It’s the seventh-year floor, room to the left.”

Even though you were completely alone in your room, you blushed furiously when you realized exactly what this note was referencing. Guess the pillow didn’t muffle much, you thought, embarrassed, as you straightened out your prefect’s robe before heading back outside.

* * * * * * * * * *

Later that morning, you shuffled out with the rest of the crowd to the Quidditch match, though in your normal robes. Your friends, including Charlotte, a fellow fifth-year Gryffindor and your roommate, Corina, a fifth-year Hufflepuff who sat next to you in Charms, and Alexander, also a fifth-year Gryffindor who had been your friend since you’d been paired together in Herbology in second year, were all dressed in Gryffindor colors. It was partly because today’s game was against Slytherin, and competitive spirits were at an all-time high, so that both teams were decked out in their House colors more than usual.

“I don’t understand how you can be a prefect and not care to wear our House colors,” Alexander said to you. “I mean, even Corina is wearing red and gold, for Merlin’s sake, and she’s a Hufflepuff.”

Corina flashed you a happy smile. Behind her, you could see the Gryffindor team coming out from the locker rooms and heading towards the players’ entrance of the pitch. Your eyes immediately flashed to Weasleys’ ginger hair (and to the Gryffindor Seeker, in particular, of course), but Oliver, who was leading the group to the pitch, caught your eye, too. His expression was quite serious, almost grim, while in the background, Fred and George were trying to balance their Beaters’ bats on their noses. You allowed yourself a brief smile before you turned away and followed your friends down to the pitch.

* * * * * * * * * *

The Quidditch game was going very well for Gryffindor until – crunch. A collective groan, followed by an eruption of curses, sounded out as Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Captain, who had gone out of his way to literally fling a bat at Oliver. Oliver had been quick enough to turn his head away, but the bat ricocheted off of the goal post behind him and hit him in the back.

Oliver, having taken a hit from a solid wooden bat square between his shoulders, blanked out. He slipped from his broom. You gasped, and your hands flew to your mouth in surprise.

Fortunately, Fred and George Weasley managed to get to Oliver before he could completely fall off his broom, and they helped Oliver down. Unfortunately, that maneuver left the goal posts open, and Slytherin managed to score three times in the time it took for the Weasleys to get Oliver down safely to Madam Hooch and Madam Pomfrey on the ground below.

From then on, the game was brutal. Gryffindor was obviously awarded a penalty shot, which Angelina Johnson put away neatly. But without a Keeper, it was impossible to keep Slytherin from scoring again – and again – and again.

Eventually, Charlie managed to catch the Snitch with a spectacular backflip that tricked the Slytherin Seeker. However, Gryffindor still lost by ten points.

All of your Gryffindor friends were groaning and moaning about Flint’s foul play, but you found yourself unexpectedly worried about Oliver. Because you’d caught him peering out at the game. Apparently, he had woken up just before the game ended. You’d seen Madam Pomfrey fussing over him, trying to hold him back, but Oliver insisted on going out towards the stands to watch the rest of the game. Unfortunately, Oliver had truly chosen the worst moment to watch the game – Charlie caught the Snitch, but Slytherin scored at the same time, easily throwing the Quaffle through the unguarded hoops – and Slytherin won by ten points.

You frowned as you watched Oliver stare up at the golden hoops with a despondent look on his face. It’s just a Quidditch game, you thought to yourself. But at the same time, you couldn’t help thinking back to when you had seen Oliver for the very first time – just the two of you, out on the Hogwarts grounds when everybody else was asleep, and you had come across Oliver staring up at those Quidditch hoops so very hopefully, as if he could see his very destiny inscribed across those golden circles.

Now, to see Oliver looking up at those hoops with his head tilted back in exactly the same way, but then to catch how his shoulders slumped forward dejectedly, made you feel rather sympathetic towards him.

As the team trudged off to the showers, Oliver went with them. He seemed to be grimacing as he carried his broom on his shoulder. You slowly gnawed on your lower lip worriedly, for you realized, Oliver was hurt less than a week ago. Today, he was injured again, and he woke up to a loss against Slytherin. Is he going to be okay?

* * * * * * * * * *

You were right to worry, for you had barely made it back up to the Gryffindor common room, when Fred and George burst in. They scanned the room together once, looking rather like a duo of ginger-feathered flamingos, when they spotted you just about to step up to your room.

“Oi!” Fred leapt over to you with amazing dexterity. “Respond to your call to action, soldier!”

“Huh?” You looked up at Fred, startled, as he clasped your wrist in his hand.

George, who was right behind Fred, explained to you, “Oliver’s still in the shower. We think he’s trying to drown himself.”

Worry sprung up in your heart, but you were quite confused as to why they were telling you this. “And…?”

“None of us can talk him out,” George told you, noting the puzzlement on your face.

“Or drag him out,” Fred remarked cheerfully.

“And?” you repeated, as you slowly slid your wrist out of Fred’s grasp.

“Oh, c’mon,” Fred said, a bit impatiently. “Go in there and do your bit.”

You stared at Fred, rather alarmed. “Excuse me? Do my bit?”

“Yeah, you’re the only one who can ever drag Oliver out of his Quidditch fanaticism,” George told you. “You’re the only one who can shout him down back to his senses. He doesn’t so much as budge no matter how much the rest of us yell at him or try to drag him out.”

“It’s only because I’m a prefect,” you said resolutely. “Go ask Percy to drag Oliver out.”

“We’ve tried, but Percy’s not strong enough,” Fred said, smirking.

At this, George nodded. “Hurts to speak ill of our own brother, but it’s true.”

You were marble-still for a moment. Then, with a loud groan, you threw up your hands in resignation.

* * * * * * * * * *

You stepped into the misty shower room of the Quidditch changing rooms.

“Wood? Oliver Wood!”

You paused, waiting for Oliver to respond. But all you could hear was the sound of running water.

“Wood!” you called out, louder this time.

Another pause.

Oh Godric, I really don’t want to go into the shower stalls myself. Who knows what I might see?

“Oliver Benjamin Wood, you respond to me right now!” you yelled with all of your might.

There was another beat of silence.

But then, the faucet finally turned off. Drip, drip, drip.

“Wood…?” you called out, more concerned now.

“I’m here.” A moment later, a shape emerged from the mist. It was in fact Oliver, with a towel wrapped firmly around his waist.

“When did you learn my middle name?” he asked you curiously.

“Hm? Oh, I don’t know. I think I heard Fred and George yelling it at one point,” you replied, relieved that Oliver was now out of the showers.

As the mist cleared out from the showers, you suddenly found yourself a bit cold. You lifted your hands and rubbed them against the sides of your arms to try to keep yourself warm.

Oliver stepped closer to you. He frowned as he noticed, “Are you cold?”

You stared at his naked torso, with water droplets still streaking down his chest, and said in disbelief, “You’re asking me?”

“Yeah, well, I run warm.”

“Wood,” you said, trying desperately to inject a bit of reason into this situation, “What are you doing still down here? Your team is worried about you. You should come up.”

“I was just thinking about the game,” Oliver replied. He blinked rather owlishly at you.

“Okay, well, you can do that back in the castle, y’know,” you told him, a bit peevishly. “Come on. Let’s go back.”

But Oliver began to step back towards the showers. Fearing that he intended to stay here even longer, you jumped forward and grabbed his shoulder. “Wood, no! If you stay here any longer, you’re not going to turn into a great Quidditch Captain. You’re going to turn into a prune!”

“I’m fine,” Oliver said dismissively.

However, at that moment, you began to realize something. You hesitated, and your grasp on Oliver’s shoulder tightened. “Wood… I mean, Oliver, look at me.” You made Oliver turn around. Then, you lifted your hand and felt his forehead, brushing aside his wet hair to do so.

“What are you doing?” Oliver asked, furrowing his brow as he looked at you.

“You’re not just running warm, Oliver. You’re – You’re feverish.”

“Hm?”

“You’re burning up,” you told him, suddenly concerned. “Oliver, okay, c’mon, can you please get dressed? I need to take you to the Hospital Wing.”

“All right, all right. Calm down. I’ll get dressed.” Oliver disappeared around the corner. But he didn’t come out for the next ten minutes.

You called for him again, but this time, there was no response. Finally, you peeked around the corner. Oliver was fully dressed, but he was slumped over on the bench.

“Oh my God! Oliver!” You rushed over to him, falling onto your knees besides the bench. You shook Oliver awake. “Oliver, please,” you begged. “Wake up…”

You pushed Oliver up so that he was sitting upright on the bench.

Felling your hands fumble over his shoulders, Oliver cracked one eye open. “I reckon I’m not feeling so good.”

“You think!?” you said incredulously. “Come on. Help me get you up! I’m going to take you to the hospital wing.”

Oliver nodded, a bit delirious, as he mumbled, “Yeah, maybe Madam Pomfrey was right when she said I wasn’t fully healed…” With that, his eyes closed again. He fell forward, and his forehead pushed gently against yours.

“Oliver!” you yelled.

Oliver blinked again. “Hm?”

“Oh no, you’re really not well,” you said worriedly. You hastily hoisted Oliver up as best as you could, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and your arm around his waist, and you used all of your strength to get him up and out the door.

The cold night air seemed to wake Oliver up a little, however, as he came to. “What are you doing with me? Where’re you taking me?” he mumbled out.

Then, a moment later, you felt Oliver bury his face against the top of your head and he murmured, “Are we going to the Quidditch pitch? That’s where I first saw you, you know.”

“Oliver,” you said, panting with the effort of keeping his far larger frame steady with your much smaller one, “can you please focus?”

“Focus? I am focused. But you… you’re always so… angry at me,” Oliver murmured. He leaned further into you, and his cheek, quite hot now, rested on the top of your head. “So small, yet so angry. How come…?”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE AN ENDLESS PAIN IN THE BLOOMING ARSE, OLIVER BENJAMIN WOOD!” you bellowed, no longer able to take the utter frustration of the situation.

At your outburst, Professor McGonagall, who was on duty, came racing out of the castle. “What on earth - ?”

“Professor, please! Wood’s not well!” you shouted.

Professor McGonagall nodded. She waved her wand sharply, and a stretcher appeared. She helped you heave Oliver onto the stretcher.

But Oliver was oddly loath to let you go. He insisted on dragging you down onto the stretcher with him. Finally, you shoved him away rather forcefully, and McGonagall was able to magick the stretcher to follow her up into the castle and up the stairs to the hospital wing.

However, just before McGonagall disappeared from sight, she called to you, “And five points from Gryffindor for vile language! You watch yourself now, lest you get your prefect status revoked!”

You sighed in exasperation and slumped against the hallway, exhausted from a strange evening indeed.

* * * * * * * * * *

“We should send Oliver a get-well card.”

“D’you think it’d be all right to ask him out on a date in a get-well card?”

“Well, why not? What other chance will we get?”

You snorted to yourself as the two girls sitting in the seats in front of you discussed whether or not it was appropriate to write Oliver a love letter disguised as a “get-well” card.

However, later hat very same evening, Fred and George approached you in the common room, holding what you recognized as a Quidditch team “get-well” card for Oliver.

“Want to sign it?” Fred pushed the card towards you, while on your other side, George flourished his quill ostentatiously in the air at you.

“Why should I sign it?” you asked.

“‘Cause the poor guy’s sick,” George said, with the air of explaining “one plus on equals two” to a toddler.

You sighed. “I get that, but no, I don’t want to sign the Quidditch team’s card for Oliver when I’m not on the team.”

“Oh, so you’ll be writing one of your own, then?”

You scrutinized Fred’s face, wondering why on earth he thought you would write Oliver a card.

“Blimey, are you this cold with all your friends?” Fred asked you, uncomfortably rubbing his neck and trying to avoid your intense gaze.

“Oliver’s not my friend,” you replied reflexively.

However, at this, Fred and George exchanged rather awkward looks.

“What?” you said, catching on quickly.

“Erm, nothing.” Fred jerked his head at George.

Almost at once, George remarked lightly, “Well, then, we’ll be off.”

“Wait!” you said sternly. You snatched George’s quill out of his hand, forcing him to stay. “What’s going on?”

Fred wouldn’t look at you. But George sighed and he spoke in as quiet a voice as you’d ever heard him use. “I know Wood’s given you a lot of grief, but you should give the guy a break. He’s not doing all that to upset you, you know. He just really wants to be good at something. Can you understand that?”

George held your gaze for a moment. For some inexplicable reason, you suddenly felt ashamed of yourself. Looking down, you silently handed George back his quill.

The twins took off, and you found yourself letting out a soft breath, wondering what was going on that made you feel ashamed before George, that made you feel ashamed… about how you’d been acting towards Oliver.

You sat back down at your seat and tried to focus on your homework, only you couldn’t quite seem to get that awkward conversation with George and Fred out of your head.

“I know Wood’s given you a lot of grief, but you should give the guy a break. He’s not doing all that to upset you, you know. He just really wants to be good at something. Can you understand that?”

Of course I can understand that. That’s been my dilemma all my life, you thought rather savagely. Even in the magical world, I’m no good at anything. There’s nothing I’m fit to be. Yeah, I’m a prefect, but what does that mean me – a good rule-follower? It doesn’t lead anywhere. So, of course I understand Oliver wanting to be good at Quidditch…

You groaned softly. Giving up on homework, you buried your head in your arms on top of your book. Maybe I’ve been too harsh with Oliver, you finally admitted to yourself. It’s not his fault he knows what his dream is. Maybe it’s time for me to stop being so angry at him for having what I want but can’t have – ambition, and conviction in that ambition.

* * * * * * * * * *

That evening, you made your way all the way up to the hospital wing, carrying a small bag of “get-well” chocolates. Curse the house elfs for only being able to stamp “get-well” on the chocolates. Of course, you knew you were being petty. You were fully aware that you should be grateful that the house elves had listened to your ridiculous request at all, and that they had managed to magically engrave the words “get well” onto a bunch of chocolates. But you just felt downright stupid, holding a bag of chocolates for Oliver Wood, of all people.

Needless to say, you found yourself hesitating just outside the door. What am I doing right now? I’m not close to Oliver. Besides, I reckon the whole team’s in there. He doesn’t need me.

You started to turn away when suddenly, the door opened behind you.

“Oh, were you on your way in?”

You turned around to see Charlie, Fred, and George. Charlie had stopped to hold the door open for you.

“Oh, no,” you said hastily. “I wasn’t going to go in.”

“But you aren’t on your way out, are you?” George asked. “I didn’t see you come in.”

“Well, that, that’s not exactly… any of your business,” you replied lamely.

Just then, Fred’s gaze, ever sharp, fell onto the small bag of chocolates were you holding. “What’s this?” he asked, snatching it away from you.

“Hey, give that back!”

“Oho, ‘get well’ chocolates? These aren’t for Oliver, are they?” Fred asked gleefully.

Charlie raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Meanwhile, George said, in an irritatingly smug voice, “Ah, no wonder you didn’t want to sign our card. You wanted it to be more personal, didn’t you?”

“George, shut up,” you growled, “Fred, give me back those chocolates back right now.”

“Fine, fine,” Fred said, throwing them back to you lightly.

Catching the accursed chocolates, you shoved them into your cloak pocket and stormed away. You felt determined not to give the Weasley twins any more time to tease you, and even more than that, you were determined not to feel humiliated for even a second longer before Charlie.

* * * * * * * * * *

Well, perhaps I should have stayed and bargained with the Weasley twins to keep their mouth shut, you thought to yourself wryly. For only a few days later, Oliver Wood had once again tracked you down after class (this time with a heavily bandaged chest and back, with the ends of the bandages wrapped around his shoulders peeking out of the collar of his school button-up). Now, he was saying to you, “So, Fred and George told me that you visited me in the hospital wing.”

“No,” you said firmly, lifting your head a bit defiantly at him. “I did not.”

“Oh.” Oliver’s brow furrowed in confusion. “So, they were lying?”

“Yes, they were… Well, erm, no, not exactly,” you admitted, deflating a little.

Oliver stared at you, nonplussed. His expression said, Care to explain yourself? He shifted a little, hoisting his Quidditch bag higher on his shoulder, because he was going straight to practice afterwards.

In your head, you were wondering if it was all right for him to practice so soon. You almost blurted out, “Aren’t you hurt? Should you be up already?” but you caught yourself at the last minute, realizing that it wasn’t any of your business (even if you were the one who had lugged him all the way up to the castle).

“All right, fine.”

“Fine… What?” Oliver said, asking for clarification.

You bit down on your lower lip, not wanting to tell the truth. Finally, in a rush, you confessed, “Maybe I went up there to see you, but it was a silly thought, and I didn’t actually enter the hospital wing. I only made it to the front doors, then I realized how stupid I was being, and I started to turn around and leave. That was when Fred and George came out, and Fred grabbed the chocolates out of my hand, and he figured out that they were for you, and that’s why they know. But I didn’t go to see you, and really, they should’ve kept their mouth shut and – and – What?”

You suddenly cut off, because Oliver was looking at you most peculiarly. He was watching you speak with an intense, focused look, that you’d only ever seen when he was playing Quidditch or leading his team to a Quidditch game.

“You actually came up to visit me? And with chocolates? I thought Fred was joking.”

“What? No, I just told you, I- I did…” You hesitated, feeling unexpectedly vulnerable all of a sudden.

“But why? I thought you hated me. I thought you said I wasn’t even a good Quidditch Captain.”

“I did say that, but…” You faltered for a moment, before you confessed, in a small voice, “Oliver, I didn’t mean it. I was just annoyed with you because it was so early in the morning and all. But I think you’re great.”

“A great Quidditch Captain?”

“Yeah.”

It took you a beat to realize that Oliver had asked for a rather strange clarification.

“And… would you play for my team?” Oliver asked you, still regarding you with rather intense eyes.

“Um…” You shifted uncomfortably. Then, letting out a short breath, you said, “Fine. Yes. Yes, I would.”

“But you don’t even wear Gryffindor colors at the matches.” The words left Oliver’s mouth faster than either of you realized.

“Well, Oliver, I never signed up to be the team mascot - ” you began to retort defensively. But then, you paused. You looked up at Oliver, now matching his scrutinizing expression with one of your own, as you wondered, “How in Merlin’s name did you know that?”

Oliver shrugged, but it was painfully awkward. “Well, I think I… I tend to notice things about you, sometimes.” His gaze dropped to your feet. “I don’t know why, exactly.”

Neither of you knew what to say anymore.

By now, both of you were doing everything you could not to look at each other. Finally, staring up at the ceiling, you murmured, “Fine. I’ll wear Gryffindor colors at the next match.”

“Well… No.”

Oliver’s short rejection made you blink up at him in puzzlement. “No?”

“You said you’d play for my team. So.” Oliver fumbled a bit with his bag before he managed to pull out one of his Keeper jerseys. “You wear that.” He tossed it at you.

You sputtered incomprehensibly as you caught the jersey with your face instead of your hands.

“Merlin. I guess I can see why you didn’t try out for the Beater position, after all,” Oliver said suddenly, genuinely surprised by your lack of reflex.

You ripped the jersey off your face. “Excuse me! You throw like an ape!”

Oliver’s eyes twinkled brightly. Still, he had a rather steely glint in his eyes as he warned you, “I’d better see you wearing that next match.”

Then, he said shortly, “I have to go, or I’ll be late for practice. I can’t keep my team waiting.”

With that, he was gone.

You stood there for a long moment, wondering what on earth was happening. But no matter how much you thought about it, you weren’t sure about anything, except for this: You thought you now had a glimpse of what Oliver was like when he was in his role as Quidditch Captain – with that serious gaze of his – and you all at once understood why all of the girls on the Quidditch team were absolutely mad for Oliver Wood, a guy who, until today, had seemed to you but a grown-up, fitter, yet still terribly awkward version of the little smidgen of annoyance you’d encountered way back when you were both only first-years.

#fanfic #fanfiction #Harry Potter smut #Harry Potter imagine #Charlie weasley #Charlie Weasley smut #Charlie Weasley x reader #Oliver wood #Oliver Wood x reader

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bunnysnuff · 9 months ago

Text

Chapter 4.

Pairing: Charlie spring x F!twin!Reader (siblings), Charlie spring x nick Nelson, nick Nelson x F!reader.

Trigger warnings: PLEASE READ!! Self-Harm, bullying, toxic relationships, jealousy and competition (siblings), & body image issues.

Masterlist:

—

Summary: Dear Charlie, we shared the same womb; I love you. I’m sorry.

The hum of the bus engine filled the space between Charlie and his sister as they sat side by side, staring out the window as the town blurred past. The early morning sunlight spilled in through the windows, casting soft shadows on the worn fabric of the seats. It was one of those mornings where neither of them felt like talking much, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. At least, not yet.

Charlie shifted beside her, breaking the quiet. “You ever think about... what you actually want in a relationship?” His voice was soft, hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure if he should even be asking.

She glanced at him, slightly surprised. Charlie didn’t usually bring up things like this, not since everything that had happened with his ex. He’d never mentioned him by name, but she knew. She knew how badly he had hurt Charlie, how toxic that relationship had been. How it had nearly destroyed him.

“I guess,” she replied, careful to keep her tone neutral, though her heart twinged a little. This was dangerous territory.

Charlie bit his lip, eyes still focused on the passing scenery. “I just... I don’t know. I thought I knew what I wanted back then. I thought if someone paid attention to me, if they acted like I was special, that it was enough. But... it wasn’t.” He let out a small, bitter laugh. “It was the opposite, actually. Being with him just made me feel worse about myself.”

She knew exactly who he was talking about. Ben Hope. He never said his name anymore, as if erasing him from memory might somehow erase the damage he’d done. But the scars were there, lingering beneath the surface. She could see it in the way Charlie flinched sometimes when people got too close, or in the rare moments when he looked at himself in the mirror for too long, his expression darkening. It was a wound that hadn’t fully healed.

“I get it,” she murmured, even though she wasn’t sure if she truly did. But she wanted to. Charlie’s pain was something she had watched from the sidelines, unable to stop it, unable to protect him from the hurt that had spiraled into something much worse.

There had been days when she would find him in his room, quiet, too quiet, and she’d know something was wrong. The razor-thin scars on his wrists, the way he avoided meals, the nights she’d stay awake because she was terrified of what he might do when he was alone. Charlie had been spiraling for a long time, and she had felt powerless to save him.

Charlie shifted again, running a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable with where his thoughts had taken him. “I think now, I just want someone who actually makes me feel good about myself, you know? Someone who... I don’t know, makes me feel safe. Someone kind.”

She swallowed, her throat tight. “Yeah. Someone who listens to you. Who makes you feel seen.”

Charlie nodded, his gaze distant. “And maybe... someone who’s funny? Like, someone who can make me laugh, even when things feel heavy. I never had that before. I want someone who’s... I don’t know, someone you can just be with. No pretending.”

She felt her stomach tighten because the person Charlie was describing wasn’t just some vague idea of what he wanted. It was Nick. She recognized every trait, every subtle hint. And she couldn’t deny that those were the same things she wanted, too.

Her mind drifted back to Nick—his easy laugh, the way he looked at her like she mattered, the way his kindness seemed to radiate from him. How he made her feel calm, and seen, and important, without ever trying too hard.

“Yeah, someone who’s thoughtful,” she added, hoping Charlie didn’t notice how her voice wavered. “Someone who... I don’t know, just does little things that make you feel like they actually care. Like when they remember something small about you, something you didn’t even think they’d notice.”

She didn’t need to say it, but she was describing Nick, too. His little gestures, his quiet attentiveness. The way he made everything feel lighter, less complicated, just by being there.

Charlie looked over at her then, his brow furrowed. Maybe he recognized it, too. The unspoken tension between them, the way they both seemed to be tiptoeing around the same thing, the same person.

The bus jolted slightly as it hit a bump, but neither of them said anything for a while. The silence was heavier now, weighted with thoughts neither of them wanted to voice.

She leaned back in her seat, staring at the ceiling of the bus, and her mind wandered back to the darker days—those days when Charlie had been at his lowest, struggling under the weight of his own self-hatred. The bullying had been relentless, the whispers about him being gay, the cruel looks and snickers when he walked down the halls. She’d wanted to protect him, to shield him from all of it, but she couldn’t. Not really.

And then there had been the nights when she’d hear him crying through the thin walls of their house, when he thought no one could hear him. She would sit outside his door, trying to will him to open it, to let her in. But he never did.

The worst had been the self-harm. The first time she saw the scars on his wrists, the breath had been knocked out of her, like the world had tilted on its axis. She didn’t know what to say, how to make him stop, how to tell him that he was worth more than whatever he thought of himself. It was like he was slipping away, and she was powerless to pull him back.

She would catch him skipping meals, staring blankly at his food, the grip of bulimia tightening around him until he was disappearing right in front of her. She remembered the fights, the pleading, the helplessness as she watched her brother sink deeper into his pain.

And now, here they were. The worst of it had passed, but the cracks were still there. Sometimes she worried that they would never be the same, that the shadow of those dark days would always linger between them.

“I’m sorry,” Charlie said suddenly, his voice soft.

She blinked, turning to him. “For what?”

“For everything. For the way I pulled away from you when I was... going through all that. I didn’t mean to. I just... I didn’t know how to handle it.”

She swallowed hard, her chest tightening. “You don’t have to apologize, Charlie. You were going through hell. I just... I wish I could’ve done more. I wish I could’ve stopped you from hurting.”

He gave her a small, sad smile. “You did more than you think. You stayed. That was enough.”

The bus slowed as they approached the school, and she glanced out the window, her heart heavy. She didn’t know how to fix what was happening between them now, this quiet competition over Nick that neither of them wanted to admit. But as they sat there, side by side, she knew one thing: no matter what happened, she would stay. Just like she always had.

—

As the school day dragged on, she found herself sitting with her tray of food, absently picking at it while her thoughts remained stuck on that morning’s conversation with Charlie. Things between them had been heavy lately, a quiet tension settling in that neither of them seemed willing to break. And she couldn’t stop thinking about Nick—how both she and Charlie had been describing him on the bus without saying it out loud.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost didn’t hear Tara calling her name.

“Hey, earth to you!” Tara waved her hand in front of her face, snapping her back to the cafeteria. “Where were you just now?”

She smiled sheepishly, shaking her head. “Sorry, just... spaced out.”

Tara smiled warmly and sat down next to her. “No worries. Actually, I wanted to ask you something.” She paused, her voice lowering slightly. “Harry’s throwing a big party for his birthday this weekend, and I was wondering if you’d want to come as my plus one? I mean, I know you’re not super close with him, but it’ll be fun. You should come!”

Her heart skipped a beat. A party? With Harry’s crowd? The same crowd that included Nick... and Charlie. She opened her mouth to respond, but then something clicked.

“Wait... Nick’s going, isn’t he?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Yeah, pretty much everyone’s going. Oh!” Tara’s eyes widened slightly, as if she’d just remembered something. “Nick’s actually bringing Charlie. They’re kind of a thing now, right? I saw them together the other day, and it seemed pretty obvious.”

Her stomach dropped. Nick was bringing Charlie. The words hit her like a punch, though Tara said them so casually, like it was common knowledge, like it didn’t change everything.

She forced a smile, but it felt like it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, they’re... they’re close.”

Tara gave her a knowing look, clearly unaware of the internal turmoil she was now drowning in. “You should still come! We’ll have fun, and it’ll be a good distraction. You know how Harry’s parties are.”

She nodded, though her mind was somewhere else entirely. She couldn’t stop thinking about how Nick had invited Charlie. He hadn’t even thought to ask her. Maybe she wasn’t even on his radar.

“I’ll think about it,” she replied, her voice hollow.

Tara smiled brightly and gave her a quick hug before rushing off to meet Darcy, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

The truth settled in, sinking like a stone in her chest. Nick had chosen Charlie. Maybe he didn’t know about her feelings, maybe it wasn’t personal, but it still hurt like hell.

—

Later that evening, the familiar clatter of dishes filled the kitchen as the family sat down for dinner. The scent of roast chicken and vegetables wafted through the air, but she wasn’t really paying attention to the food in front of her. Her mind was still caught in an endless loop of Tara’s words—Nick’s bringing Charlie.

Across the table, Charlie sat quietly, poking at his plate. He didn’t seem his usual self either. They hadn’t spoken much since the bus ride earlier that morning, and now, with their parents chatting away and Ollie rambling on about something from school, the silence between them felt even heavier.

“Charlie, sweetie, are you okay?” their mom asked, looking at him with concern as she passed the salad bowl. “You’ve hardly touched your dinner.”

Charlie glanced up quickly, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just... not super hungry.”

Tori, sitting at the far end of the table, raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She had always been the quiet observer, noticing things without saying much. Her sharp eyes flicked between the twins, clearly sensing the tension, though she remained silent.

Ollie, oblivious as ever, was in the middle of a story about his day at school, his small hands gesturing wildly as he talked. “And then we played soccer at lunch, and I almost scored, but Jamie tripped me! He said it was an accident, but I don’t believe him.”

Their dad chuckled. “Well, maybe next time you’ll get him back, huh? Just don’t let it ruin your day.”

Ollie beamed and kept going, but she was barely listening. She kept sneaking glances at Charlie, wondering if he knew—if he had any idea about how she felt, how much this hurt. She wondered if he was hurting, too, or if he was just excited to be going to Harry’s party with Nick. Maybe it was easier for him, now that Nick had chosen him.

The thought twisted painfully in her chest. She couldn’t be angry with Charlie, not really. He didn’t know how she felt. They hadn’t spoken about Nick, not directly. But the competition between them was there, unspoken but impossible to ignore. It felt like they were both tiptoeing around the same fragile thing, hoping it wouldn’t shatter.

Their mom’s voice broke through her thoughts. “You’ve been quiet too,” she said, her gaze now on her. “Everything okay with you?”

She nodded quickly, plastering on a smile that felt just as fake as Charlie’s. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just tired, I guess.”

Tori finally spoke up, her voice calm and measured as she glanced between the two of them. “You both seem tired. Anything happen at school today?”

She felt Charlie stiffen next to her, and for a moment, they both shared a glance. A silent understanding passed between them—neither of them wanted to talk about it. Not here. Not now.

“Nah, same old stuff,” Charlie muttered, quickly turning back to his plate.

She gave a slight shrug, echoing his sentiment. “Yeah, nothing new.”

Their mom didn’t push, though the concerned furrow in her brow remained. Instead, she turned her attention back to Ollie, who was still enthusiastically recounting his day.

For a few minutes, the table was filled with the sounds of clinking silverware and Ollie’s animated voice, but she couldn’t shake the heaviness in the pit of her stomach. She kept thinking about the party. What would it be like seeing Charlie and Nick there together, knowing that Nick had chosen him, even if unintentionally? She wondered if Charlie would be as uncomfortable as she would, or if this was just her own heartbreak to deal with.

As dinner wound down, their dad started talking about work, and she caught Tori’s eyes flicking back toward her and Charlie again. It was like Tori could sense everything. She always had been the most perceptive out of all of them.

After a few more minutes of quiet, she pushed her plate away, her appetite long gone. “I think I’m gonna go upstairs,” she said, trying to sound casual as she stood up.

Charlie looked up at her, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. He just nodded, and a moment later, he stood up too.

“We’ll help clear the table,” he added, his voice sounding distant. Their parents didn’t argue, though their mom gave them both a lingering look of concern.

Together, they grabbed the dishes in silence, moving around the table as the rest of the family continued chatting. It wasn’t until they were alone in the kitchen, with the sound of running water and the clink of plates being loaded into the dishwasher, that the tension finally bubbled to the surface.

“I heard Nick’s bringing you to Harry’s party,” she said, her voice quieter than she’d intended.

Charlie froze for a second, his hand hovering over a plate before he continued loading it. He didn’t look at her when he replied. “Yeah. He... asked me earlier this week. I didn’t know you were going.”

She swallowed hard. “I wasn’t going to, but Tara invited me. As her plus one.”

There was a long pause, the only sound being the gentle slosh of water as Charlie rinsed off the dishes. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “Are you... okay with that?”

She didn’t know how to answer that. Was she okay? Not really. But could she tell him that? Could she tell him how much it hurt, how every day it felt like they were both silently fighting for Nick’s attention, even though neither of them would admit it?

“I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know what I feel right now.”

Charlie finally looked at her, and in his eyes, she saw the same pain, the same confusion she was feeling. Maybe he wasn’t as okay as she thought. Maybe this was hurting him too.

But neither of them said anything more. Because deep down, they both knew that whatever was happening between them—this quiet, unspoken rivalry over Nick—it wasn’t something that could be fixed with words. Not yet.

—

Diary entry 4.

Dear Charlie,

I don’t even know where to begin. Tonight was supposed to be a normal dinner, but it felt anything but. There’s a heaviness hanging in the air, and I can’t shake this feeling that we’re on the brink of something bad.

When you talked about wanting someone who makes you feel good, I felt like I was drowning. I wanted to scream out that I want you to be happy too, but it’s so much more complicated than that. I felt this gut-wrenching pain in my chest because I can’t stop thinking about Nick. It’s like he’s become this unwitting wedge between us, and I hate it.

You don’t know this, but every time I see you together, it feels like I’m losing you little by little. I wish I could be happy for you, but the truth is I’m scared. I’m scared that you’ll choose him over me, that you’ll forget about our bond, our connection. I keep pretending that everything is fine, that I’m okay with you being with him, but inside, it’s like a storm is raging.

It’s not just jealousy; it’s a fear of losing the one person I’ve always relied on. You’ve fought through so much with Ben, and I’ve watched you struggle to find happiness again. I thought I was being supportive, but it’s becoming harder to pretend I’m not hurt. Watching you with Nick feels like watching someone take away the last piece of my heart.

The party is coming up, and I can’t stop thinking about how hard it’s going to be. I’ll have to stand there and smile while you two flirt and laugh, pretending I’m not dying inside. I hate this feeling, and I hate that I’m turning something that should be joyful into a source of pain.

I wish we could talk about this openly, but I don’t want to add to your burdens. You’ve been through so much already, and I don’t want to make things worse. But the longer I hold this in, the more it eats away at me. I’m terrified of what’s happening between us, and I don’t know how to fix it.

I hope you can feel that I’m still here for you, even if it’s getting harder to breathe under the weight of all this. I want to be the supportive sister you deserve, but I’m not sure how to reconcile my feelings with my love for you.

Please, let’s find a way to talk about this soon. I need you to know I love you, no matter how messy things get. I just hope we can find a way back to each other before it’s too late.

Yours always,

[Your Name]

#heartstopper imagines #heartstopper x reader #heartstopper season 2 #nick nelson #charlie spring x reader #nick nelson x reader #charlie spring #nick nelson imagines #Charlie spring imagines #charlie spring x sister!reader #bunnysnuff writes✨

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harrysweasleys · 4 years ago

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let me show you my world // h.p

summary: A Harry x muggle!reader where he takes her to the wizarding world for the first time please?

warnings: mentions of food, very very slight ptsd if you’re really looking

word count: 2.5k

a/n: short and sweet! i hope you all enjoy, it’s been a while since i’ve written for harry!

[i do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other platform]

Today was the big day.

After what felt like weeks of waiting, today would fall the day where Harry promised you he’d take you to see his side of the world — the side that he had hid from you for the first few months of your relationship.

Until, of course, you stumbled in on him using the “lumos” charm one night in the dark kitchen while he thought you were asleep. It was a nearly unbearably long night of explanations and questions, but once you came to grasp with the idea that your boyfriend could perform spells and magic, you were awestruck.

For months you pestered him about showing you more, showing you the magic of his world and the thrill that came with it. You’d never be able to perform a spell, that was for sure, but you wanted to dip your toes in the life that was being a wizard. Maybe you could relate to Harry a little more.

He loved to talk about his time at Hogwarts and all the fascinating creatures and wild spells that he had learned about, but it wasn’t something you understood. Sure, you’d nod along and stare at him with wide eyes as he encountered his memories with a faint smile, but you only wished you could experience a smidge of it.

So, finally, he agreed to introduce you to his life by inviting you as his plus one to Ron’s birthday, which was conveniently being held at the Burrow — where Harry had really fallen in love with magic the first time — and you were over the moon.

“Remember, if something comes flying at your head, duck,” he said, your hand in his as he pressed a light kiss to your skin, clearly a little nervous.

You stepped closer to him and put your hands on either side of his face, “Harry, this isn’t going to scare me off. Don’t worry. If anything, I’m going to be even more interested in you. Which will only go badly for you, really. I won’t be able to leave you alone.”

He gave you a little smile and nodded his head, eyes piercing yours. He had dressed up with a nice shirt, a tie, and had even wrapped up a little gift for Ron, which was sitting in a bag by the front door. You weren’t sure what it was, but by his laughter as he had wrapped it, you figured it was an inside joke.

You had met Ron before, of course you had. The two were practically inseparable, both in and out of school. But you had never met Ron’s family, nor had you seen what his lifestyle was like. You could only imagine that with a family full of witches and wizards, you were in for a wild ride.

Now, Harry had told you countless times about what apparation entailed, but nothing could prepare you for the feeling that it put your body through. As he gripped your hand, you felt your weight vanish. It felt like you were being sucked into a vacuum, your body being warped through the material of reality.

Only when your feet hit solid ground did you feel your balance get restored.

You gripped Harry’s arm as he let out a chuckle, “Warn me next time.” Your breathing was heavy and your voice came out weak, but you were alive and in one piece. Your first taste of magic hadn’t gone too wonderfully.

“Sorry,” he shot you a quick smile, sliding his hand into your clammy one before walking up to the house. Harry had a certain sparkle in his eye tonight, and it wasn’t due to the sunset. He was excited, you could tell. His hand swung with yours as the two of you approached your destination.

What Harry called the Burrow was unlike anything you had ever seen. It looked like multiple homes stacked on top of one another, being held together by wooden boards and nails. Smoke came out of the chimney, and the smell of fire reached your nostrils. Light glowed from the many, many windows on all the floors of the house — were there seven floors? Eight? Ten?

“This is… wow,” you let out an impressed sigh, eyes scanning the entire building. It looked like it was held together by magic, and knowing Harry’s world, it definitely was.

“That was my reaction too,” his eyes followed yours before he gave your hand a squeeze and began leading you up to the front door, “Ron has quite a few siblings, so it might get confusing, but you’ll get the hang of it.”

You nodded, still a little speechless. If this was what the outside looked like, you couldn’t imagine what was awaiting you on the inside.

Harry brought his hand up and knocked on the door, cutting you short of your thoughts. As excited as you were to see what it was like inside a true magical household, you couldn’t bring yourself past the nerves.

Though, you didn’t have much time to dwell on that before the door was swung open and a tall ginger man with scars across his face stood on the other side.

“Bill,” Harry grinned, letting go of your hand before the two of them shared a hug.

The man had the same hair colour as Ron — no surprise there — but he was much leaner and taller. You had also heard about the werewolf incident, so it didn’t come as much of a shock to see the deep, aged wounds across the pale skin of his face.

“This is Y/N,” Harry turned to face you as the two of them pulled apart from their greeting.

The man named Bill nodded and gave you a comforting smile, “We’ve heard a lot about you. Come on in.”

Harry stepped in first and you followed closely behind, Bill closing the door behind you. The smell of cake filled your senses and you felt a smile begin to form on your lips.

By the front door, you could see into the kitchen. Spatulas and spoons moved about in the air, untouched by human hands. In the sink, dishes were being cleaned by themselves and soap bubbles floated up and popped near the ceiling. A little broom moved across the floor, collecting dust and crumbs in a pile by the kitchen garbage, sweeping in an elegant and quick manner that no human would be able to do themselves.

Your cheeks began to hurt due to your smile, and you brought yourself to turn away and look into the living room. By the crackling fireplace, a pair of knitting needles worked by themselves to knit a thick, woolen pair of socks. Books and magazines moved around and placed themselves on shelves, and you spotted a dark grey owl perched by the window.

“It’s something, isn’t it?” Harry placed one of his hands on your lower back and grounded you to reality. Or, whatever dream world this really was.

You nodded, still speechless. You couldn’t believe the kind of stuff magic could do, that all of this was real. Sure, spells and stuff were a given, but you never considered that people could run their houses like this. That with a flick of a wrist, things would go back to their rightful place and chores would do themselves. It only made you a little jealous that you couldn’t do these things yourself.

“Yeah,” you said, slightly in awe, before removing your jacket and placing it next to Harry’s by the door.

He linked his hand with yours once again and followed Bill into the house, into what you figured was the dining room. Windows were open and a fresh spring breeze rolled through the room, almost making the room feel even more surreal.

Your eyes landed on the people sitting around the table, two faces which you recognized already. Ron and Hermione sat at the end, both smiling and waving at you. The rest, however, you didn’t know.

“Guys, this is Y/N,” Harry said after going around and greeting everyone, “Y/N, let’s make rounds. You’ve got Bill and his wife Fleur, then we’ve got Charlie, Percy and his fiancée Penelope, Fred and his girlfriend Angelina, and his twin brother George, Ginny, and then Ron’s parents, Mr and Mrs Weasley.”

You nodded, but you hadn’t really been listening. You’d forget all the names anyways. You were more focused on the small floating candles, and the fact that there was another owl perched on the back of one of the chairs. It gave a little hoot and began to doze off.

“Hi,” you finally spoke up, turning to face Mrs Weasley, “Thank you for inviting us.”

“Of course, dear!” she grinned, waving her hand in dismissal, “Everyone is always invited here.”

“It’s true,” Mr Weasley spoke up from next to her, his eyes bright and a cheerful smile on his face, “You’re a muggle, yes?”

You felt your eyes widen a bit as you answered, “Oh, uh, yeah. No magic here.” An awkward chuckle escaped your lips and you began to fiddle with your fingers.

Harry placed a hand on your arm before Mr Weasley could ask you any more questions, and guided you to the two open chairs next to Ron, both of you taking your seats. You could feel eyes following you but you decided to brush it off. Harry had warned you about Mr Weasley’s fascination with muggles, so you couldn’t really be surprised.

From next to you, Ron and Harry began to chat as if they had spent no time apart, and from the other side of you, a thin blonde woman placed her hand over yours.

“I’m Fleur,” she smiled a dazzling smile, her sleek hair shining under the candlelight, “Is this your first time seeing this kind of environment?”

You nodded, “It is, actually,” you turned away and glanced at the owl once more before turning your attention back to the woman, “I haven’t actually seen much apart from the basic spells Harry uses around the house.”

“It is fun, isn’t it?” she pulled her wand out of the purse that was hanging on her chair, twirled it in between her fingers, and then placed it on the table top, “Not something you get used to, even if you’ve been surrounded by magic your whole life!”

A twinge of jealousy surged through you at the thought that you never got to experience this as a kid, and that you’d never really get to experience this as an adult either. That the only taste of magic you’d get would be through Harry, that you’d never feel the feeling of it running through your veins.

“I bet,” you responded with a smile, eyeing the room, “I’m sure it’s incredible.”

You lost yourself in your own thoughts, looking around the room at the way Ron’s family interacted with the things around them. The twins, who you couldn’t tell apart just yet, were making a little firework buzz around the table. The other brother which you were sure was named Percy was scowling at them, clearly hiding a smile as the firework sparkled next to his ear.

Harry’s hand found its way to your thigh and he gave a slight squeeze, “It’s a lot, I know.”

It was pretty overwhelming, and you had trouble wrapping your head around it all, but your heart felt full. You could feel the tingle of thrill in your veins as you thought of all the things one could do with magic. Harry had done some basic things around the house — made flowers grow, put the dishes away, helped organize a few things. But you knew he had often used his magic in self defence, and now that he had defeated that evil, he didn’t always want to use it. It served as a reminder of what he had done in the past.

“It’s something,” you grinned, turning to face him, “Thanks for letting me see this.”

He shot you a wink, sending your heart into a flurry, and brought you into his conversation with Ron and Hermione.

——

The evening had been a blast. Ron’s brothers had put on a show of fire and spark for his birthday, and Mrs Weasley had made a massive multi-layered cake that was large enough to feed dozens of people. Harry had brought you on a small tour of the house, with the Weasleys’ permission of course, and pointed out all the fun little enchanted trinkets that hid in plain sight.

As the night drew darker and people began to leave, Harry had suggested you two do the same.

You agreed, following him to the front door to grab your coats before bidding a good night to the family. Ron and Harry shared a hug as Hermione embraced you, and shortly after, you two were back in your apartment.

Apparating had been a little less dizzying the second time around now that you knew what to expect. You let out a small chuckle at Harry’s tousled hair before he raised his hand to pat it down, giving you a small glare in the process.

“Thank you for that,” you muttered after you had both tossed your jackets by the front door, pulling him into a hug. He was warm, and he smelled the same, but after everything you had witnessed tonight, you now saw him in a somewhat different light. You understood his world a little more now, and in an odd way, you felt so much more connected to his past.

He wrapped his arm around you and rested his head against your shoulder, placing a light kiss on the spot where your neck and shoulder met, “It feels good, showing you all of that. There’s a lot more to see, of course there is, but I feel better. I was pretty nervous about tonight, honestly.”

You grinned, placing a kiss against his cheek as you pulled away from the hug, “A lot more to see, yeah? Does this mean we’re going on a magical adventure where you give me a detailed tour of the wizarding landmarks?”

He rolled his eyes and let out a chuckle, his hands not leaving your waist. His shoulders were slouched and his body felt relaxed under your hands, causing a bubble of joy to burst in your chest. Harry had always been casual and chilled, but you knew he was always afraid of showing you this side of his life. And now that he had, clear relief was written all over him.

“If that’s what you want,” he grinned, stepping a little bit closer to you, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, “Diagon Alley is next, then.”

taglist

@grierpilots @hxfflxpxffs @mikumana @msmimimerton @pit-and-the-pen @diary-of-an-onliner @theweirdsideofstuff @thoseofgreatambition @theweasleysredhair @haphazardhufflepuff @awritingtree @thisismysketchbook @valwritesx @vogueweasley @hufflrpuffforfred @phuvioqhile @marvelettesassemble @shadowsinger11 @breadqueen95 @hahee154hq @inglourious-imagines @amourtentiaa @pxroxide-prinxcesss @spacexcowgirl @lumos-barnes @gcdricreads @bolaurel

#harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter reader insert

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amphxtrite · 5 years ago

Text

ginny weasley x fem!reader

Royalty Au

Warnings: spelling/grammar mistakes

Summary: the reader has to choose someone to marry from the Weasley family and she falls for the only girl.

enjoy <3

___________________________________

y/n l/n Princess of Felicitatem, next in line for the throne, treasure of the Kingdom of Prosperity.

Yawning as you sit yourself up in your lush 4-poster bed, you stretch your arms out and throw back your covers, swinging your legs off the edge of your mattress and sighing at the feeling of your feet meeting the cool marble of the floor beneath you.

“Good morning Princess.” you hear a voice call out to you from the doorway. “Good morning Melina, beautiful day isn’t it?” you answer back, gazing out your large window into the beautiful garden. “Yes it is indeed Princess, I’m here to fetch you for breakfast.” Melina steps into the room and closes the door behind her. You murmur a quick mhm before scooching over to face her.

Melina was like the older sister you never had, you two were very comfortable around each other, but she still liked to stick to formalities when she was unsure if anyone was around. “Mellie there’s no need for that Princess stuff around me, you know that!” you grin. “I know, but I thought I saw Sebastian coming around here, and you know how much of a blabbermouth he is.” She sighs, flopping down onto your bed. You shrug, standing fully up and heading to the bathroom, you begin to run a brush through your hair as Mellie informs you on the castle’s gossip. “So I heard the head chef and one of the chambermaids were caught snogging in a broom closet,” She giggles. “And, Alex says the gardener is pregnant, Oh, and we got a cute new stable boy.” She rattles on, you can feel her blush from here. You smile. Beginning to brush your teeth, Mellie comes into the bathroom and begins to braid her hair, “It’s parcel day too, I think I saw a whole stack with your name on them.” She looks over at you. You rinse out your mouth before answering.

“Oh yeah, the Potter’s kingdom is trying to sign a deal with my parents, and they think spoiling me will convince them.” you answer nonchalantly.

“Do you think it’ll work?” Mellie asks curiously. “Oh, Mother was going to sign it anyways, she's just a bit busy right now.” You snicker, “The fabric in their kingdom is to die for though and they send the most beautiful dresses, so I’m not complaining.” you turn and head towards your closet. “You want to borrow anything today?” you call out to the blonde trailing behind you. “Do you have that ribbon I like?” She asks as you walk to a drawer and pull out the baby blue silk hair ribbon and toss it over to her. “You can keep it, you know, since you like it so much.” You smile at her. She squeals and hugs you tightly, thanking you over and over again, you simply smile and hug her back. She helps you put on a casual white dress and you walk down to the dining room talking about the kingdom’s news, you separate once you arrive at your destination, waving goodbye as you open the large doors.

“Ah, y/n there you are!” Your father calls out to you as you step into the large room. “Good morning father.” You answer “Good morning mother” you greet your mother beside him at the head of the table. Your father stands and walks over to you, “We have guests today darling,” He says motioning to a large family of red-heads, you immediately recognize them as the Weasley’s from the Western Kingdom. You curtsey to them, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” You greet. “Oh thank you darling.” A short woman with a kind face answers, she must be Mrs. Weasley. “You have a very kind daughter Charles.” Mr. Weasley compliments, you smile. You scan your eyes down the row of ginger children seven in total, skimming over each one of them, your eyes stop at the only girl there, the youngest one too you presumed. She sends you a small smile and you find yourself staring. She was so beautiful, long light ginger hair, ocean blue eyes and pretty pink lips. You grin back as you walk with your father to the head of the table taking a seat on the other right side of your him, directly in front of Mr. Weasley, The adults continue talking and you find your mind wandering, your eyes goes back to the girl you had made eye-contact with just a few moments ago, she’s picking at her eggs, you smile but catch yourself in the act, you shake your head slightly, you’ve never felt this way about a girl before, what was going on? Despite these thoughts there was a part of your brain saying to just go with it. You’re brought out of your thoughts by your father’s voice.

“You’re probably wondering why the Weasleys are here?” Your father asks, reading your mind. You nod. “Well dear, we’ve decided to join our kingdoms and would like to have you and one of their children marry to unite us when you’re crowned queen.” He explains. You freeze. “So you’re arranging my marriage?” You ask, fear lacing your tone. “Well not exactly,” Your father tries to reason with you. “The Weasley’s have six boys in their family and 5 for you to choose from, aside from Bill the oldest who is already married, who you choose is your choice though of course.” You nod nervously, thinking back to the girl at the other side of the table. You glance in her direction and she’s looking back at you blushing. You feel a surge of happiness and turn back to your father. “Any… of the Weasley’s father?” You smile at him. “Of course darling, you have my word.” He nods to you unknowingly, your mother looks between you and the girl and back at you again, you raise one of your brows at her and she smiles, nodding. You feel a rush of excitement, quickly eating your oatmeal and drinking your tea before you stand hoping to greet the girl. “y/n why don’t you give the kids a tour around the castle?” Your father suggests, “to get to know them better.” He continues a grin on his face. “Um- of course! If you would kindly follow me?” you call out to the seven gingers, they all stand and walk towards the doors with you introducing themselves one by one. There was Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron and the beautiful girl that caught your eye's name was Ginny, what a gorgeous name. For the rest of the morning and afternoon you run around the castle, showing them every room and every crevasse you thought was important, but in the end most of your time was spent in the garden, playing football with the family, you grew tired after a couple games and decided to sit under your favourite cherry blossom tree to watch.

The Weasley’s were such kind people and you knew any of them would make a perfect partner, but only one of them had left you speechless. Ginny was absolutely perfect, she was so kind, strong and mature compared to most of her brothers, and on top of that, so very beautiful. You watch with heart-eyes as she runs around in her long dress throwing and catching a ball around with her brothers, you watch her eyes light up, her smile grow, and her hair sway and you knew she was the one you wanted to choose. You were conflicted though, you’ve never felt this way about a woman before, but with Ginny it just felt so natural, she made you laugh, blush and hang onto her every word, she was everything you could ever ask for and more, but you knew there was a problem, what if she didn’t feel that way about you? What if she found you disgusting for having these feelings for her? What if your father didn’t allow it… He did say sons after all. You could feel someone's gaze on you and you see Ginny standing with her twin brothers Fred and George, you smiled and waved at them, wondering what they’re talking about.

“Really?!” Fred says to his sister, his eyes wide in shock. Ginny rolls her eyes, “raise your voice a bit Fred I don’t think she heard you.” She whispers to her brother sarcastically. “But, you’re serious?… You like y/n?” George whispers back, Ginny glances back to you a pink dust on her cheeks and a smile spreading on her face, “Yes, she’s absolutely marvelous!” She answers George. “Look Gin, I’m happy for you, really, but what are mum and dad going to say?” Fred questions, slightly concerned. “Well, I haven’t really thought that far yet, but I’m sure they’d be fine with it!” Ginny answers looking back to you again, she sees your eyes raise to hers and she can almost see your future together in your eyes, baking in the kitchen together, running through your castle hand in hand, and kissing you under the moonlight, the thought made her blush. “I’m going to tell her!” Ginny confidently starts to walk over, George grabs her by the arm. “Gin wait a second, how can you tell she feels the same?” George asks worriedly, not wanting his sisters heart broken. Ginny only grins, turning back to look at your rosy cheeks, she says dreamily, “I just know,” before releasing her arm and walking over.

You see Ginny walking towards you and you start to panic. Did your hair look okay? Was there food on your face? Did your breath smell okay? Were there any stains on your dress? Ginny sits down next to you and as you look into her stunning eyes all your insecurities wash away. “You’re beautiful you know.” She says finally, grinning happily as she watches your face go bright pink again. “Thank you Ginny.” You respond meekly, feeling small under her intense gaze. “Really y/n, you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.” She says tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You sat there stunned, wishing you could stay in this moment forever, Ginny staring into your eyes, her hand running through your hair, sitting under the pink cherry blossom tree, basking in the warm spring sunlight.

“I want to choose you.” you utter unconsciously, staring lovingly at the girl in front of you. Ginny freezes, did she just hear you correctly? Her jaw drops. You snap out of your daze, taking her silence as rejection and stand up quickly. “I-I’m so sorry, I’ll just go.” You say stuttering, rushing off, tears in your eyes. You must’ve read the signs wrong, oh how stupid you were for thinking she felt the same way…

Behind you Ginny shakes off her shock and stands up, following you and calling your name, you don’t stop and continue running until you reach a hidden alcove, your favourite one you had decorated with flowers, plants and pillows. You turn and drop into the alcove, hugging your knees to your chest. You hear Ginny calling for you again, you don’t answer, you hear her footsteps getting closer, you pray she doesn’t find you, but alas, luck wasn’t on your side. “Y/n! There you are!” She calls out. Great, you think to yourself, looking up at her with tears running down your face. Ginny steps into the alcove and wipes the tears from your eyes with her thumbs a small smile on her face, you turn away and hide your face from her embarrassed. She kneels in front of you and removes your hands from your face, holding them in her own. She takes a deep breath. “I want you to choose me too.” she says in a happy voice. “y/n, I’d love to be with you!” she breathes out with a smile on her face. “I know we’ve only just met today, but I feel something between us I don’t want to let go of, we can go slowly if you want. I'm in no rush. I just want to be with you.” She opens her mouth to speak again, but you shush her with a kiss, feeling her lips against yours was heavenly, your mouths moved in sync and you could feel her nibbling on your lips. You didn’t want it to stop, but you need to say something to her. You pull away reluctantly, and look deep into her eyes. “Then I choose you, Ginny Weasley, to be my queen, my love and my light, to stay by my side forever, do you accept?” You ask with a renewed feeling of confidence, “Yes, y/n I do.” She replies without hesitation, pulling you to her again and joining your lips together again, your hands on her soft cheeks and hers grasping the fabric of your dress. You would worry about any issues later on. Right now it was just you and your love sitting together in the hidden alcove.

#ginny weasley #harry potter imagine #fem x fem #ginny x reader #ginny weasley x reader #royalty au #weasley family

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sirius-archive · 7 years ago

Text

Chaos Theory Pt. 2

Pairing: Cedric x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, alcoholism and drug usage (mentioned), low key violence?

Word Count: 4644

A/N: okie dokie chapter two here we go! first, i want to thank everyone who has commented/reblogged/messaged me about Chaos Theory and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know via my inbox. To all my friends in AO3 town, thank you also for your support. Another note: I will be away over the next two weeks so I won’t be able to post the next chapter of Chaos Theory until then. However, when I do get back, I’ll post the next two chapters.

Chapter Two:

There is something pleasantly sweet about Cedric Diggory’s smile.

It’s gentle and unassuming; a perfect display of pearly-white teeth framed by soft, kissable lips. Sometimes, it reaches his eyes and gives off a warm radiance that you could bask in for an eternity. Sometimes, it tickles the corners of his lips in a subtle display of sincerity. But it always, always, has an effect on you that you can’t exactly describe.

You’re not sure if it’s because you’re drunk on adrenaline from the Quidditch World Cup or you’re just being sentimental, but you feel as though you’ve drowned a cauldron of amortentia and the potion bubbles frantically inside your stomach whenever Cedric so much as glances your way.

Your eyes can’t help but drift over to him like you’re a compass and he’s true north. At the moment, he’s laughing and chatting animatedly with the rest of your friends, but there are secret moments shared between the two of you where your gazes clash and linger with a sense of longing. You can’t help but wonder if it will always be like this; stealing glances at each other from across the room but neither of you taking the first step.

You hope that one day, you’ll be brave enough to break the pattern.

You decide to try and distract yourself by trying to soak up the moment. Most of the Weasley clan bar Mr. Weasley are gathered around a large fire and joined by Fred and George’s friend, Lee Jordan. The host, Cedric, sits between Bill Weasley and Harry, who looks a little tense around the shoulders. You’re about to get up and join them but your brother, Luke, playfully jabs you with his elbow and nods in the direction of your gaze.

“Like something you see over there?” His voice is teasing and condescending and the knowing smirk that goes with it jolts the itch on the inside of your wrist to life. You resist the temptation to scratch it, instead choosing to narrow your eyes on your brother.

“No. I was simply…observing the campfire.”

“Were you now?”

“Yes.”

Luke shakes his head, amused by your obvious attempt at a lie, “You’re lying.”

The irritation begs to be scratch, practically pleading for you to peel the skin back and plunge your nails into the flesh.

“No I’m not.”

Luke sighs in mock disappointment, “You truly are a terrible liar. I thought I taught you better…”

You work your jaw, “Might I remind you that you crashed our party because all of your friends are drunk and high, and you didn’t want to spend the night alone?”

Luke shrugs, his grin lopsided, “What can I say? They’re all lightweights...amateurs. And don’t change the subject.”

He wags a finger at you in the same way a scolding parent might, and you bat it away with a sigh. You roll your eyes at him and throw your arms up in surrender. Luke pumps a fist into the air and grins triumphantly.

“Why are you serpents always so perceptive?” You grumble, scowling at your brother.

“It’s a curse,” he chortles and shrugs, “Besides, that’s what future lawyers like me do; we perceive things and stick our noses where they don’t belong.”

You give a very loud snort, “That’s presuming you’re actually smarter than you look.”

Luke clutches his chest in mock offence, “That’s a low blow, even for you.”

You shrug through nonchalance, though you can feel Cedric’s eyes on you again and you have to fight every single cell in your mortal body not to look or you might as well turn into a pillar of salt.

“He’s looking at you right now, y’know,” Luke playfully nudges your shoulder with his own, “What are you going to say to him?”

“I...” you pause, realizing you’re at a loss for words, “...I don’t know–? I mean, what can I say, really. He’s him and I’m me and we both have responsibilities...especially since this is his last year and–”

“–wait, what are you talking about?” Luke interjects, brows knitted together in confusion.

You give him a quizzical look “It’s Cedric’s last year...”

Luke studies you for a long time, a familiar expression filling out his features. It’s the same look he wears when he’s piecing a puzzle together, or if he’s deciding whether something is genuine. You can almost see the wheels and cogs hissing and turning in his head, like you’ve peeled back his scalp and peered into his skull, watching the electrical currents scuttle along the network of synapses in his brain.

“Who–who did you think I was talking about?” You ask, slowly, in a voice filled with caution. Luke’s lips quirk into a smile, flashing a row of pearly-white teeth.

“Well–”

“-Luke, buddy, where’ve you been?” A slurred voice booms through the air, it’s owner emerging from the shadows shortly after. Caleb Jin stumbles into view, a crooked smile spread across his lips, “We’ve been looking everywhere for bro...”

He stops, realizing that Luke isn’t alone. For the first time since he’s arrived, he’s noticed you and your friends, and he gives a teasing, sarcastic salute.

“Ah, finally nice to meet the pretty one,” he winks and tries to smirk. It’s as appealing as a limp piece of celery. “Now all I have to do is meet the other three and I’ve met the whole set…”

“He must be pretty wasted if he’s referring to Hermione, Ron, Harry and I like we’re collectable chocolate frog cards,” you note, watching as Caleb begins to unbuckle his belt.

Luke winces, “Yeah…though I’m 66.6% sure he’s being serious.”

“What?” you bleat and Luke shakes his head.

“I’d...better make sure he gets back to his tent safely...” he murmurs, rising from his seat, “I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

You nod at your older brother and watch as he waves goodnight to everyone and saunters up to Jacob, slinging an arm across Caleb’s shoulders to support him.

“Bye, pretty one,” Caleb waves at you hopefully. You wave back and hear him cheering in the distance.

“I think I’ll go to bed,” you announce as you turn back to your friends, “Thanks for tonight…”

“Already?” Harry asks, somewhat disappointed in your decision to leave, “It’s barely ten o’clock.”

“Still, I better go. We’ve got a long trip tomorrow.”

“I think I’ll come, too,” says Hermione, climbing to her feet and walking toward you.

“Oh, come off it, Hermione, you’re probably going to go and read or do nerdy stuff like study,” Fred flaps a hand at her dismissively.

“And what’s wrong with that?” she snaps, hands planted on her hips.

“We should take you back to bed as well, Gin,” Bill interrupts, rising from his spot in the grass. Ginny folds her arms across her chest indignantly.

“But I’m not tired!” she moans, and Bill narrows his eyes on her.

“It’s late, Ginny. We’ve all got to get up early to make it back home in time for breakfast.”

Ginny turns to Charlie, pleading him with an imploring look. Charlie grimaces, as though he’s fighting the urge to concede to her wishes, “Bill’s right, Gin.”

“I thought you were supposed to be the fun brother,” Ginny grumbles as she stands, pushing her hair off her glowering face.

“Hey!” Fred and George exclaim in unison and Ginny waves a hand at them.

“I’ll walk you guys back,” Cedric springs to his feet.

“No need,” you blurt, your hurried response embarrassingly shrill.

“Oh, but I insist.” Cedric smiles, and the way it curls transfigures your spine into a strand of spaghetti. Your mouth flaps open to protest, but Hermione interjects before you can say anything more.

“That would be nice,” she smiles graciously, but the way it pinches the corners of her lips suggests that she’s scheming. You narrow your eyes on her suspiciously, and she shrugs innocently. Ginny stomps over to you and Hermione and Cedric leads you away from the campfire.

“It’s been a really lovely night,” Hermione smiles as the three of you stroll toward the Weasleys’ tent.

“It has,” Cedric agrees with another gracious smile (Curse him), “The game was thrilling and the company…” He glances shyly at you, “…well, I don’t think I would have enjoyed it very much without you.”

You notice Hermione and Ginny exchange a look and by the way Hermione’s shoulders tremble, you suspect they’re stifling giggles.

“Well I’m certainly glad I came,” you say, fighting back the warmth in your cheeks.

Cedric’s eyes linger on you for a moment, dancing between your eyes and your lips, “As am I.”

Does he want to–?

“Well it’s certainly made me realize why the boys love Quidditch so much,” Hermione admits, and you can hear a faint teasing tone in her voice, “It’s all rather thrilling, isn’t it?”

“Thrilling indeed,” Cedric remarks, “Never thought the Weasley Twins would predict the outcome of the game.”

“They’re smarter than they look,” you joke, “Though I think they learned their lesson.”

Cedric raises a brow, “And that is?”

“Never make deals with the devil.”

“Or someone just as trustworthy as they are,” Hermione adds, “Which is not trustworthy at all.”

A gentle laugh trickles from Cedric’s lips and curls in the air, “I suppose they had that coming.”

The conversation soon steers toward the upcoming year. You and Ginny exchanged a pained look, but before you can change the subject, Hermione has launched into a lecture about what she’s anticipating the most.

As she rambles, Cedric’s hand grazes against yours, long fingers reaching out tentatively to tickle the skin of your hand. Your heart floats in your chest as though someone had untied the arteries and veins attached to it and set it free. You imagine it drifting around like a helium balloon after it’s string have been snipped; lighter than air, ascending into the milky white clouds of heaven.

Eventually, you arrive at the tent. Ginny bids Cedric a curt ‘goodnight’ before marching into the tent. Hermione turns to you wearing a smile of her own.

“Well, Good night,” she smirks suggestively, her eyes flicking toward you and Cedric before she disappears into the tent. You and Cedric loiter in the awkward silence, wondering who will break it first.

“I really did mean it when I said that I was happy you came,” Cedric finally says, smiling, and you realize with a delighted thrill that it was more than just a compliment. It was genuine.

You chew your bottom lip, biting down on a goofy grin, “And I had no reason to doubt you.”

Cedric studies you for a long moment like he’s trying to draw the edges of your face on the canvas in his mind. His tongue darts out to slide across the cushion of his bottom lip and you wonder if he knows how handsome he is when he does that or if he can hear the blood rushing through your veins at the sight of it.

“You know, it’s nice to see you smiling again,” he finally says.

A wave of embarrassment drenches you in an uncomfortable warmth that burns beneath your cheeks as you recall the last time you saw Cedric. You remember the heat of the day; the air hot and sticky and sweetly perfumed with the scent of salt and butterbeer. Imaginary tears ghost over the rosy-pink skin of your cheeks and stain your lips with salt. Your hand moves to wipe tears that aren’t there.

“Yes I–I never did thank you for…what you said. So…thank you.” You stumble for words, your cheeks practically aching from all the bashful smiles.

“No need to thank me,” he smiles, “I’m just glad that you’re doing better.”

More awkward silence, filled only with the distant, drunken cheers of the Irish wafting over the campsite like a bad smell. You and Cedric shift awkwardly in the moment, eyes darting everywhere in a shy dance of will I? should I? before you shatter the moment with a quick nod.

“I should probably start writing my article,” you blurt, tucking a stray ribbon of hair behind your ear.

“Already?” Cedric asks, brows raised, “Talk about commitment…”

“What can I say?” you shrug, smiling, “Sleep when you’re dead, right?”

“I wish my teammates were as passionate about Quidditch as you are about writing,” Cedric says, eyes roving over you in awe. “Well, I guess this is goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

You turn quickly and move to retreat into your tent but your feet stop in their tracks, hesitating outside the folds. And, before you realise what you’re doing before you can even talk yourself out of it, you’re spinning on your heel and turning toward Cedric, reaching up and planting a tender kiss on his cheek. It’s decidedly chaste since it doesn’t seem appropriate to snog Cedric yet, but the warmth of his smooth skin against your lips is rather intoxicating, and there is a moment where you want to move a few inches over to kiss his lips but you don’t.

It leaves more of an impression than you expected, and you watch as a bright pink hue stains the exact spot where your lips had made contact with his cheek, the colour blossoming like wildflowers in the spring. It’s an adorable boyish look, and you admire for the millionth time how handsome he is, even in the low light. Even when bashful and unprepared and surprised.

Cedric beams, and it looks like he’s swallowed the sun. “Well, er – see you in the morning?”

You nod, biting your lip as Cedric begins to walk backwards as though he can’t peel his eyes away from you, his expression fixed as though he’s in a trance. He stumbles unceremoniously into a tent and issues out a string of mumbled apologies, making you giggle.

Yeah, you think, your fingers moving to brush across your lips, the warmth of his cheek still ghosting over them, excitement bubbling up inside of you and bursting like a balloon filled with liquid sunlight, See you in the morning.

***

You’re not sure when you fell asleep exactly. Between working on your article for the school newsletter and the almost dreamlike night you had experienced with Cedric, it was a wonder you even slept at all. But your sleep is broken by two trembling hands shaking you awake, and you emerge from the cloudy greyness of sleep to find Hermione’s face looming over you.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“We have to get Mr Weasley,” Hermione whispers, her voice low, “We have to get out of here!”

“Why?” you ask, but then a scream pierces the air like the high-pitched shriek of shattering glass, and the heavy thrum of what sounds like a crowd of people tripping over themselves fills your ears.

Hermione gestures toward the tent’s folds, “Have a look for yourself.”

Yanking your nightgown off the bedpost, you wrap it around your pyjamas and poke your head out of the tent, your eyes widening in horror.

The campsite has been thrust into a world of pandemonium. Screams of terror cloud the air like a fog as stampede witches and wizards clamber past, retreating into the surrounding forest for safety. A large crowd of hooded wizards chases them into the wood, laughing and hooting as various bursts of light streak through the air like bullets. The air is thick and heavy with smoke and dust, rubble smouldering and tents burning.

Perhaps the worst part of it all is the four figures twisting and turning mid-air as though suspended by imaginary strings. The hooded wizards are puppeteering them into grotesque positions. Two of the figures are children.

Somehow, you don’t think you’re going to see Cedric in the morning.

You clamp a hand over your mouth as you watch the scene unfold.

“How cruel do you have to be to prey on children,” Ginny mutters darkly, gripping her wand tightly, “We have to help them.”

“No,” you snip, grasping Ginny’s wrist and yanking her back, “Us three against a crowd of wizards? Ginny, we’ll die. We have to be strategic about this…”

You release your grasp on Ginny and she turns to Hermione, whose brows are furrowed in thought. “(Y/N)’s right. The proper authorities will be here soon. They’re trained to do this sort of stuff.”

Fire rages in the dark depths of her chocolate-brown eyes and she forces out a sharp huff as though she were breathing plumes of smoke, “Well we can’t just let them torture those muggles!”

“There’s nothing else we can do,” Hermione says, composedly, “If we try to help them, we will all die.”

Ginny’s mouth twists into a thin frown like she wants to argue the point but doesn’t. Instead, she concedes with a curt nod of her head. Guilt twinges in your chest.

“For what it’s worth, you really are a force to be reckoned with,” you remark, giving her a half-hearted smile. Ginny beams proudly, “Just…remember to choose your battles wisely.”

Ginny perks up at that, straightening her spine and squaring her shoulders. Hermione glances at you furtively, a warm smile tugging the corners of her lips. The touching scene is interrupted by Mr Weasley as he bursts through the tent’s entrance, eyes wide and voice tainted with an unnerving tone of panic.

“Good, you’re up,” He notes, eyes darting between the three of you, “We need to leave. Now.”

The three of you follow Mr Weasley out of the tent and spot Ron and Harry standing close by, both of them just as horrified as you are. You rush up to Harry, and a warm feeling of relief sinks into your skin.

“Bil, Charlie. Take them into the forest and wait for me there. I’m going to see what I can do to help.”

Bill and Charlie nod as Mr Weasley hurries off. They lead the group of you toward the forest, and as you reach the fringe of the woods, you and the others turn back to watch the scene. A group of Ministry members have their wands drawn out and directed at the group, attempt to diffuse the situation with words, though it doesn’t seem like they’re achieving much at all.

You bite your lip, eyes scanning the crowds for Luke, praying to every known god that he is safe. You don’t think you could lose him, too.

“We should keep moving...” Ron murmurs to you and you nod. Hermione gently pats your shoulder, massaging into the tense muscles.

“He’s going to be okay,” she whispers, as though she had read your thoughts, “I saw one of his mates earlier. He’s probably with them...”

“Yeah, you’re right. He’ll be fine. He can take care of himself,” you say, trying to convince yourself that it’s true. Hermione takes your hand and leads you into the Forrest.

The four of you walk in a tense silence, listening to the worried murmurs and distant screams filling the air around you. The shadows of the night cloud around you like ravenous demons as you walk further into the woods, but you keep your hand in Hermione’s as she leads you deeper and deeper.

Your thoughts sprint through the events of the night, anxiety churning inside of you and awakening the itch on your wrist. What if Luke got hurt in all the commotion? Where is Cedric? Is Mr Weasley going to be okay?

Hermione squeezes your hand, as though she can read your thoughts. Behind you, Ron yelps in pain. You stop abruptly, Harry very nearly crashing into you.

“Ah, shit.” He mumbles and you squint at the forest floor, only just making out Ron’s lanky figure.

“What happened?” Hermione asks, anxiously, blinking through the darkness, “Where are you? Oh, this is stupid, Lumos.”

A narrow beam of light pours from the tip of her wand, lighting up the winding path. Ron lies, sprawled, on the floor, dry leaves and dirt sprinkled in his hair. You swallow the urge to laugh and help him to his feet.

“I tripped on a tree root,” Ron mutters, angrily. He dusts the dirt from his knees and Hermione picks the twigs from his hair.

“Well, with feet that size I suppose it’d be hard not to,” an oily voice drawls from behind you and rage surges through your veins like rivers of lava.

Draco Malfoy leans against a tree, his demeanour visibly taunting. He’s calm and composed, radiating the same, ugly energy that usually reeks off of him. You narrow your eyes on him and speak without thinking.

“Well you know what they say about wizards with big feet,” you glance at his feet and raise a brow, “And yours look kind of small.”

Ron snorts.

Draco’s nostrils flare.

In all honesty, you have no idea how big Draco’s feet are, but you’re satisfied with the look of offence and disdain that crosses Draco’s face.

“What’s that?” Draco cups his ear, “I can’t hear you from all the way down there.”

Ron steps forward protectively, “Fuck off, Malfoy.”

“Language, Weasley,” Malfoy drawls, his pale eyes glittering maliciously, “Or do you have to eat slugs again for you to finally learn your lesson?”

“What do you want?” Harry snarls.

“I’m just trying to find a good seat,” Malfoy shrugs, lazily, “Though you’ll probably want to hide the mudblood.”

“Shut your mouth, Malfoy!” Ron shouts, “Or I’ll have to do it for you.”

“That is the second time you’ve threatened to do so today,” Malfoy sneers, “Yet here I am.”

“Oh this is so pathetic,” Hermione snaps, “Let’s go.”

“The only thing that is pathetic here is you, Granger,” Draco spits, eyes narrowing like a snake eying its prey, “If you ask me, you should be out there with the muggles they’re torturing.”

“Oh, shut up,” Harry snaps, “You’re only saying that because you feel threatened by her superiority.”

A cold, metallic laugh splits through the air, lacking amusement and warmth, “Please Potter, who are you trying to impress with these two charity cases? Your parents? Because we all know how that’s going to work out.”

“Alright, this has gone far enough,” Hermione says, composedly, “Let’s go.”

“What’s going on here?” says a familiar voice, and relief fills you up like sea water.

Luke steps into the light of Hermione’s wand, and you launch yourself into his arms. He returns the hug, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, breathing into your hair. You hold him close, clinging onto him like you might crumble. He’s okay. Everything will be okay.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you murmur, eyes wet with unshed tears, “I can’t lose you, too.”

“You wouldn’t know what to do without me,” Luke teases, untangling himself from your embrace. His smile is loose but genuine.

Draco straightens, his casual demeanour shifting immediately. He’s nothing but talk, especially when a teacher or someone with authority arrives. And Luke is that person right now; a Slytherin prefect with an impeccable reputation.

“Draco,” Luke regards him with a simple nod, “I’ll see you at school.”

Draco nods wordlessly. As Luke and your friends move to walk deeper into the woods, you turn to Draco and stare at him curiously.

“What made you so cold and dead on the inside, Draco?” you ask, and Draco’s face falls. For once, he can’t come back with a retort, and you leave him staring into the darkness, completely speechless.

***

The walk home from the Quidditch World Cup somehow feels longer than the journey there.

You all walk in silence, too tired to even string a proper sentence together. You sluggishly trail down the road, exhaustion slowing you down as though it had hooked a rope around your waist and was yanking you back. You rub your eyes, stomach growling, limbs heavy as your mind sprints through the events of the long, chaotic night.

Through all of it, the Dark Mark still haunts your thoughts like it’s still looming over you like some sort of cruel god of pandemonium. The return of the Death Eaters has everyone on edge, as though their all denying a simple yet terrifying truth.

Fortunately, you had caught up with Cedric before you left. He promised to send an owl as soon as he arrived home. You would have liked to chat with him for longer if it weren’t for Fred and George, who tried to lure him into buying one of their ‘experimental candies.’

Harry gravitates toward you, his expression unreadable, “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you sigh through the lie, “Just tired. You?”

“Yeah,” Harry shrugs, “So…how did you meet Cedric…?”

The sound of his name jolts through you, and you suddenly feel more awake. “Oh, well, we met last year and we just…clicked.”

“Clicked, huh?” Harry echoes, though his voice has a slight edge to it, “That’s…good.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. Nice of him to walk you back to the tent, too.”

Your brows knit together as you study Harry’s expression, “Where are you going with this?”

“Nowhere,” Harry snaps, his voice cracking sharply like a whip, “I’m just saying it was nice of him to walk you back…”

“Well, he didn’t just walk me back.”

“I know–”

“¬–and why bring this up after the night we’ve just had?”

“Because–”

“–Because what?”

“You’re not giving me a chance to answer!”

“Well if you’d just hurry up and spit it out–”

“Would you two shut it? We’re nearly there!” Ginny interrupts, pointing into the distance. Ron and Hermione stare at you like they’re cataloguing your every move. They tear their eyes away and exchange a glance.

If you were less tired, you would have questioned them. Instead, you ignore them and turn back to Harry. He isn’t paying attention anymore, his mouth twisted into a frown as he glares at the Burrow. You can tell by his expression that he doesn’t want to talk anymore, and you cross your arms, deciding it’s better not to.

Picking up your pace, you catch up with Fred and George and the three of you chat lightly as you slowly approach the Burrow. It’s faint, but you think you hear a grumbled protest from behind you, and you glance over your shoulder to find Ron, Hermione and Harry arguing quietly amongst themselves.

What are they up to?

Your thoughts are interrupted by a relieved Mrs Weasley, who rushes up to the group of you and throws herself into Mr Weasley’s arms.

“Oh thank goodness you’re alright,” she mutters, squeezing him tight. A copy of this morning’s Daily Prophet falls from her grasp, slightly screwed from where she had been gripping it. You pick it up and flatten it out while Mrs Weasley pulls her children into a bear hug.

SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP the headline reads in large, bold letters. An image of the Dark Mark floats beside it, and a twinge of fear plucks the centre of your chest as the memory of last night flashes in front of your eyes. Shudders rattle your spine.

“This isn’t good…” you murmur.

“Well, obviously,” Harry grumbles from behind you, his tone dripping with sardonic venom, and you jump, slightly startled. He stands behind you, reading over your shoulder, and he’s close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath fanning across the nape of your neck. A different type of chill shoots through you like electricity.

“Lets – er – go in and have breakfast…” Ron suggests, glancing uneasily at Hermione. Harry grits his jaw and shakes his head, snatching the Daily Prophet out of your grip. He marches inside with Ron on his heel, but Hermione lingers behind.

“What has gotten into him?” you snip, and Hermione gives you a strange look, as though she knows more than what she’s letting on.

“We’re all just a little bit tired and hungry,” she sighs, patting a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “But don’t worry about it for now. Come on, let’s have something to eat.”

Don’t worry about it for now, you mentally repeat as you follow her inside, that’s easier said than done.

***

Chapter three will be released soon.

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