#i see them pitch or pale but flushed could be nice too

[boiledcaprisun]

have I ever asked you about aradia X kanaya...

i have not gotten any asks about them so no! but i do think they could be quite cute.

[mysicklove]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍

DAY 27: OVERSTIMULATION + EDGING

With: Megumi Fushiguro and Yuuji Itadori

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: sub! Megumi x dom! gn! reader x sub! Yuuji, sadistic/crazy?/meanish reader, weird amounts of cum...like a strangely alot of cum involved, frottage - mlm (ik ik i have another day for this only but i just had to include it), handjobs, bondage, megumi in subspace, megumi goes a little insane? reader checks up on him tho, orgasm denial, orgasm control,

A/N: this is alot. like kinda hardcore. if this is ur first fic of mine or ur first dom! reader fic....try a less agressive fic LOL

Neither of them understood how they got into this situation. The two of them were friends. Never in their lives did they think that they would see each other in positions like these. Megumi was never supposed to see Yuuji’s half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks, and Yuuji was never supposed to see Megumi’s high pitched moans, and twitching body. It was lewd. All of it was so lewd, and it seemed to turn the boys on even more.

But of course, this wasnt the first time you've done this. It was a routine by now, but even so, the boys seemed to flush in embarrassment when the two of them knock on your apartment door together. But it may be the slight humiliation that has them crawling back each week.

The two of them sit on either side of you, trapping you in between their muscular bodies. But you weren’t afraid – In fact, even with your cornered position, you were by far in the most control. The way you and the boys like it.

Your hands move up and down in a repetitive stroking motion on both of their cocks. Fushiguro’s is longer but on the thinner side, pretty with a pinkish tip that contrasts the pale skin nicely. Itadoris was girthier, bigger in general, and an impressive sight overall. You even caught Megumi staring wide-eyed the second his best friend pulled down his pants. But even so, Yuuji appeared sheepish, almost embarrassed at his size. It was quite cute, frankly.

But now, they lay content against you. Megumi is on the stiffer side, still embarrassed at the whole situation, but his soft moans show that he is enjoying it. Yuuji, on the other hand, rests his head on your shoulder, occasionally kissing the flesh to show how pleased he is. 

“I’ve got a fun idea,” You hum, not stopping your movements on their cocks. It’s a slow pace, but not slow enough where they feel frustrated. A good motion to keep the boys from whining too much. Although, you do plan to change that.

Megumi hums, his eyes falling shut with a shaky sigh. Yuuji blinks up at you, curious. “Yeah? What is it?”

You turn to him with a smile, and accidentally stop your movements. Megumi, ever the little princess, whines out immediately in complaint. Yuuji chuckles into your shoulder at the noise, and you roll your own eyes. “Yeah. Yeah. I know. I know,” You say, hands moving again before he could bark out a real complaint.

“Well,” You hum and then scan the room. “Need a coin or something small,” You murmur, eyes furrowing to search your place for the object. Yuuji, ever the one to please, doesn’t hesitate to pull away from your touch and go searching through his bag stark naked.

Megumi blinks at him and then leans on you, his messy hair tickling your chin. “He is like a dog.”

“It’s cute.”

“Yeah. Can you?” He mumbles into your neck. You smile, knowing exactly what he wants, and thumb at his cock’s head. His eyes slightly roll back, and he groans into your skin. “J-Just like that.”

Yuuji is back in less than a minute, slotting himself in the space next to you, and slightly grinding himself on your knee for a little extra stimulation. He hands you the coin, and you smile at him, kissing his cheek in reward. He beams at you, and you can’t help but smile back. 

You pull your hand away from Megumi again, and he basically growls into your shoulder. “So dramatic,” You tease as the boy pouts, grumbling and looking away. “Alright. I'm going to put this coin in one of my hands behind my back, and you guys have to guess which one has it.”

“What’s this for?” The dark-haired one demands.

“You will still touch us, right?” The pink-haired one pleads.

You chuckle at them both. “It’s a secret. And yes, don’t worry, sweetheart.”

They were both intrigued by your actions but obviously wanted whatever game this is to go by quickly so that you'll begin to jerk them off again. 

“Whoever guesses correctly gets to cum tonight, and the other does not.”

The boys eyes snap to one another. Neither of them wants the latter. Their kinship was put to a hold. In this moment, all either of them wanted was to have a shattering orgasm.

You place your hands behind your back and move the coin into a hand that they dont see. Then your place two fists in front of them. “Alright who is guessing first?”

You should have known that the two of them werent willing to be polite to one another. “That one!” Both of the boys exclaim, pointing to the fist farthest from each of them. At least they chose different hands, you note, trying to hold back a grin. 

The two of them vibrate with nerves, leaning forward and almost pushing at one another. You hold your hands out and wait for a moment, building up more tension. Megumi barks a complaint about how long you are taking, so you roll your eyes and flip your hand open, exposing the coin to the boys.

Yuuji seems to deflate, eyes widening, and then collapsing his head onto your shoulder with a broken whine. Megumi on the other hand tries not to show his excitement, but the widening grin on his face, and the way his fists clench in victory conveys otherwise. 

You spare him a feline grin, and he immediately knows that something is amiss. Yuuji wasnt the one to get put through much harsh treatment, considering the boy was always the sweetest to you. Pampered, the two of them were, even if Megumi was a little bit more temperamental. It was rare for them to get punished. You had your rules to follow, and they did (even if Megumi complained once or twice) without hesitation. So there was never a need to be mean to them.

But of course, you never did need a reason, did you?

Yuuji stares. As if in a trance, the dark eyes never leave the sight in front of him. He is completely infatuated by it, desires it, really. 

Two quick strokes, focusing primarily on the head, snaps Yuuji out of his trance in an instant. His back straightens, and his eyes widen as he doubles over on himself, nails digging into his thigh. He lets out a shaky, “Heh-Ah!” and his whole body shivers. He was teetering on the edge, just one more stroke and he was bound to come crumbling down. He wanted nothing more than to do so. Your hands pull away, and Yuuji's mouth goes dry, but he doesnt complain. His eyes flicker to it again.

“No. No. No more. No more! I can't do it anymore!” The dark haired man screeches, shaking his head from side to side and biting on his lip. Cum glides down the pink tip, and it begins to coat his balls a murky shade of white. It's sticky, and it makes him feel gross, but his stomach and thighs were no better. It was everywhere, or at least Megumi feels so.

His eyes are tied behind his back. A cruel precaution that Yuuji didn't have. But that is simply because Yuuji was less likely to touch himself than Megumi was to touch you. His wrists are bound together in pretty red soft rope. Your favorite of course. He hates it.

Megumi's legs kick out, and tears stain his face. You frown at him, using your free hand to remove the lip from his teeth. “You're gonna hurt yourself,” You mumble, pouting slightly, and forcing his mouth open. He sniffles, shaking his head, but lets you.

“Y-You're hurting me!” He yelps, leaning his body toward you to convey how upset he feels. 

You bark a laugh, shaking your head. “Well that's dramatic. To cum and cum on repeat sounds so appealing…” Your eyes flicker to the pink haired boy. “To Yuuji at least, yeah?”

Megumi notices for the first time tonight Yuuji's stare. It wasn't on his face though, it was focused solely on his now white coated cock. He is panting, chest raising and falling with each deep breath. A drop of precum falls onto the towel beneath him, but he doesn't spare it a glance. His dark eyes never leave Megumi’s cock. Envy is what he feels. How badly did he wish his own dick was stained that color.

Megumi tries to shut his legs in embarrassment, but your hand was currently resting on the base of it, so he fails to. You use one hand to force them apart so that Yuuji can see, and then you give Megumi three warning strokes. His body arches and a broken cry is let out from the overstimulation. He has already cum three times now in this short span of time.

You hover near his ear, gazing at Yuuji in amusement. “Look ‘gumi. He’s enthralled by it. All he wants to do is cum, and here you are complaining about it!” You purr, kissing his cheek and then pulling away.

Yuuji finally speaks up, probably seeing that you kissed the other from his peripheral vision. He glances up at you, and his shoulders slump. “Please.”

A puddle of precum has formed beneath him, but it was nothing compared to the liquid that coats Megumi's pale skin. Your hands begin to pick up the slow pace again, and the boy begins to hiss out. He squirms in your hold, and gets close enough to you for his teeth to latch onto your shoulder. You chuckle at him, but bare him no mind. “What are you pleading about, Yuuji darling?”

He opens his mouth, glances at Megumi who is trying desperately to tear out of the restraints, and then closes it again. His friend's cries go straight to his cock, that was borderline turning purple at this point. He shakes his head, and puppy dog eyes bore into yours. “Please. It hurts.”

You reach over to him, and Yuuji knows better than to get his hopes up. In fact he knows exactly what is happening, so he squeezes his eyes shut and braces himself. One slow pump, and then two, and Yuuji is just grazing his high. He can almost taste it, but you pull away before he can fully experience it. His fingers tense up, and he forcefully raises them to his head to cover his eyes. He was bound to touch himself if he kept them there. Yuuji clenches his teeth and groans, while his cock twitches a couple times, and another glob drops.

“F-Fuck me,” He cries after a moment, resisting the urge to bury his fingers into his skin to hopefully ease the tortuous feeling. 

Your hand makes a particularly loud squelching noise, and Yuuji's eyes are back onto your hand and Megumi's cock. He stares at it with need wanting nothing more to be covered in his own cum. To cum as many times as he wishes. It was driving him insane.

Megumi seems to be curling into you. His head somehow found his way into your neck, and he sobs into it, searching for some sort of comfort. He is hiccuping by now, and a bountiful of different fluids coat his face, let out without his control. “So mean. Mean. Mean. Mean,” The boy chants, and you hum at him, petting his hair.

“I know. But you are so pretty like this, you know I can't help it,” You murmur, one hand continuing to stroke him off, while the other tries to comfort him.

“Noooooo,” He whines in return, and you kiss his temple, mumbling into his ear about how wrong he is. 

You hear Yuuji call your name and you spare him a glance. Tears were finally cascading down his pretty tan face, and your eyes light up. “What's wrong, Yuuji?”

He comes tumbling forward, his forehead resting on the bed before you. He cries into it, and grips onto the sheets just inches from Megumi's knee. “I-It hurts. I'm going insane. Please. Please, I'll do anything. Please let me cum, I am begging you,” He warbles, close to tearing the sheets apart. 

You sigh and look away from the two. “Well you two are no fun,” You complain, ignoring the way Megumi whines into your neck. Yuuji doesn't move from his bowing position. “Yuuji, you want to cum?”

“I-I'll do anything! I promise!” He proclaims into the sheet.

You smile at the back of his head. “Good! You can rut against Megumi's cock then, since you've been eyeing it all night.”

You pull your hand away from the cum coated cock, and wipe the remains on Megumi's thighs. He remains quiet, trying to catch his breath.

Yuuji raises his head from his bowed position, his cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink. He glances at his friend's trembling body and gulps. “That will…I–F-Fushiguro?”

Green eyes flicker to you first, and it doesn't take much thought to realize that he seemed to slip into the subspace. The eyes are hazy, and little thought seems to be behind them. “You…Want me to?”

You rub at his cheek. “I do. You'll make Yuuji feel good. And I bet you'll have fun too!” You coax, already helping him out of his place in your lap. He struggles to stay up, body nearly collapsing from exertion. Yuuji catches him before he falls back, and you grin at the pink haired boy with a nod.

The hands still remain tied behind his back, and he holds himself up on his knees. Yuuji is in a similar kneeling position, stabilizing the other by holding onto his shoulder. His eyes flicker back to Megumi's cock, completely naturally lubricated, and then he shakes his head to snap out of his thoughts. “I-It wont take me long, okay Fushiguro? J-Just need...Need a little stimulation…Please?”

“Yeah, I know. Just be gentle, please. I’m s-sensitive,” He mumbles in return, strangely not caring about his tear and drool face. Even his stained cock didn't bother him.

Yuuji nods his head, and gulps, turning to you for confirmation. You nod at him, and in return, he brings Megumi's body closer to his. Their stomachs touch, and the pink haired man places his head in the others neck. He brings one hand to Megumi's ass, and pushes it forward, forcing the two of their cocks to touch.

Its so wet, so lubricated, and must be so easy to glide against. Yuujis eyes roll back, and Megumi lets out a broken cry. He starts his rutting, and everything seems to go blank. It's wet, and the two of their cocks make a lewd sort of noise that drives him insane. “Oh fuck, Fushiguro,” Yuuji whimpers, and Megumi in return cries out. 

He forces Megumis body closer to his, and the man yelps. “Gentle Itadori, p-please!” But the other doesnt listen, and continues to grind their cocks together at a rapid pace, loving the feeling of the sticky lubrication. More tears come tumbling out of the dark haired man, and you watch in silence, completely intrigued by the whole thing. 

You watch Yuuji grab some cum from Megumis thighs, and place it onto their cocks. He moans out, and your eyes widen in delight. “Yuuji,” You purr, and the man glances over at you, shivering under your gaze. “If you get him to cum again, could you imagine how much extra lubricant you will have?”

Yuujis eyes widen at the prospect, and he begins to respond, but is cut off. Megumi begins to laugh, and the noise startles the both of you. The laugh is more like a yelp, a sort of mix of a cry and a giggle. You glance over to him, and his face is broken out into a grin. The tears dont stop flowing from his eyes, and his whole body is twitching rapidly under Yuuji's hold. A strange sight. 

“Megumi,” You question, forcing Yuujis hips away from the other to give him space just in case something was wrong. “You alright, love?”

He shakes his head back and forth rapidly and you raise your eyebrows.  “N-Nothings gonna come out!” He giggles with a hiccup, and Yuuji's eyes widen in surprise. “Gonna shoot blanks!”

You gulp, and a shiver runs down your spine. You feel Yuujis gaze on you, but you don't look away from Megumi. “I-I wanna see it,” You whisper, pupils dilating at the prospect. You let go of Yuujis hips, and nod at him to continue.

“I-I dont think I can last that long,” The pink haired one mumbles out, and you brush him off.

“You will, do you understand?”

He whimpers, but nods, and then brings Megumi back closer to him. But to both of their surprises, you wrap your hand around their cocks. Yuuji whines, and Megumi borderlines yelps. You don't say anything as your hand rises and falls. “N-No, no, no. I can't last. Please. Please.”

Megumi's fit of giggles ends quickly, and he's back to crying. Yuuji’s teeth dig into his neck, and the dark haired man's back arches and he hisses out. “Yes you can,” You encourage, “You just gotta wait for Megumi to cum.”

Yuujis arms come wrapped around the other, and he begins to grind himself onto the other. “F-Fushiguro, you have to cum. Please cum. Please please cum!” He pleads, hoping that his movement will help spur the other on.

Megumi shakes his head back and forth, and he continues to sob. “I-I'm close. Its too much, oh fuck!” Your hand focuses on the tip, and you watch Megumi's hands try to break out of the restraints again.

Yuujis nails drag down the others' backs and by now, he's crying. “It hurts. I need it. Please. I can't hold it. Please Fushiguro let me cum!”

A broken cry is let out, and Megumi hits his climax. The second Yuuji sees Megumi's eyes roll back, he comes tumbling after him. Unlike the stoic boy proclaimed earlier, two globs of cum leak out of his pink cock. But, to be honest, you're not too disappointed, because the sight of them cumming together was truly a pretty sight. Yuuji shoots his load all over Megumi's stomach.

Yuuji clings onto the other like Megumi was some sort of lifeline, and if Megumi didn't have his hands binded, you are sure he would do the same. Tears stain the tan boy's shoulder, and he continues to hiccup through it all. Yuuji, on the other hand, is loud. He moans out, high in pitch and cracked.

And when the two come down from their high they peel away from each other, completely spent. Yuuji finds himself resting his head on your shoulder, with a content smile, and Megumi is sprawled across your lap, currently getting untied and cleaned up. And eventually, once the two of them are cleaned up, and receive proper after care (involving tons and tons of praise for megumi, and physical affection for Yuuji), the two of them pass out, curled up next to one another.

But everything after that night was strange. Whenever you ask them to guess what the hand of the coin is, the boys seem to scamper away from you, completely terrified of the outcome. It was a pity, truly, especially since you plan to have them switch positions next time. Luckily you didn't need a coin game to decide their fates.

PREV POST | MASTERLIST | NEXT POST

[kryannoy]

you're always tied up. you like it?

DAY 2 | OCTOBER 8 | EDGING + OVERSTIMULATION

genre: nsfw, smut characters: sub!chifuyu x dom!reader summary: tying him up, edging then overstimming him warning: bondage, edging, overstimulation, cockstepping, nipple play

You kind of have a wild assumption that your boyfriend, Chifuyu, is probably into bondage. Considering he keeps getting into trouble and ended up tied up, it makes your dirty thoughts run wild with all the imagination. You wonder how he'll react. Will he like it, get aroused? Or is all your assumptions were merely just imagination?

Therefore, you proposed the idea to him and as expected, your dear pure Chifuyu gets flustered quickly. Questioning you if someone took over your body, he soon realizes you were serious about this. Of course, being the best partner he wants to be, he hesitantly obliged to your shenanigans. He wouldn't admit that he was actually looking forward to this.

Once Chifuyu is already tied up nicely on a chair—his slim body wrapped with bright red ropes, contrasting his pale skin—his chest was already heaving and his pretty cock is standing tall and proud. You can tell he's just as aroused. The smirk you pulled on your lips makes him softly whine under the duct tape, wondering the things you're going to do to him.

You get down to your knees in between his spread legs and start by running your fingers over his neck down to his chest, fiddling with his sensitive nipples. He flinched with whimpers coming out of his mouth. Rolling around with your thumb and index finger on each of his nipples, pinching and pulling them. All of it already makes his head spin. You lean in and begin to suck one of it off. His muffled screams sound so desperate and needy, his cock just keeps getting bigger and redder while he thrashed helplessly in his seat. If you keep doing this, he's gonna nut early.

You move away entirely, finally letting him a catch some breath. His face is flushed now, it's adorable. You stand up and before he could look at you to anticipate your next move, he feels a hard pressure on his aching cock. You were stepping his vulnerable spot. Chifuyu lets out a huge cry even under the tape he was still loud.

You keep adding more pressure and he struggles even more, his head tilted back. He wasn't sure if he was feeling pain or pleasure but all he knows he wanted more. He needed more. His muffled moans are so loud you were glad you put on tape to avoid getting complaints from neighbors. His swollen cock starts to twitch, you weren't gonna let him cum yet, oh no, not just yet. Your grin grows wider seeing him enjoying this so much. You kiss his exposed neck, letting him rest a little. His head straightens to look at you, giving you the best puppy eyes to let him cum. The desperation is clear on his face. Furrowed eyebrows, teary cross-eyed, red cheeks. It makes you coo at him.

It works on you a little so you take off the duct tape carefully. It was wet and he was drooling.

"Please . . ." he begs.

"Please what?"

"Please make me cum. I can't hold it anymore!"

"Aww," you kiss his lips despite him still have saliva running down. And that was it for Chifuyu, he starts begging like he's never been touched by you. He's drunk off of your love, you can almost see the hearts in his eyes.

"Please, baby! Make me cum! I wanna cum! Touch me, touch me please! Touch me. I need you."

You indulge him, moving your hand down to where he wants it the most. You only grasped it and he's letting out a loud and high pitched moan. His back arching off the chair so deliciously, his hips bucking eagerly for more, and he begs and begs for more.

You don't know what's gotten into him now but he is so drunk and desperate.

Your hand pumps faster and he wasn't far from his orgasm. White liquid spurts out thick from his red cock, finally getting the relief that he needs. You were getting wet too from the show he put on.

Just a second ago, he wanted more, right? He wanted to cum and you'll make him cum as many times as you want.

Your hand did not stop pumping, determine to get a second one out of him.

"N-No! No!"

"No? Didn't you want to cum?"

"I can't! I won't—Ah!" he cut himself off with his moan, head tilting back from the overwhelming pleasure. Then, he starts laughing yet it sounded like crying too. "Stop . . . Stop!"

"That's not the safe word, baby." But you know he won't say it. He was enjoying this way too much.

This is going to be a long and messy night.

[phantasmiafxndom]

Since it's your specialty... Could you please write another shark merman hc, but for Leona, Idia and Trey with a rather mean reader that likes to fuck them into the mattress with a little disregard for their limits?

My specialty? What, xeno and mean horny things? XD

Also, here's the first version of this!

. . .

Leona

Normally, it's hard to get Leona worked up about much of anything— of course, even he's not too good at keeping his cool when your twin dicks are pressed up against his hole.

"Would you hurry up and do it?" he hisses, tail swishing.

"Of course, your highness," you reply sarcastically, then shove in quite a bit faster than could be considered nice.

A shocked yelp is forced out of Leona's throat, followed by a half-pained keen when you don't stop there. You force his hips up and fuck into him hard and fast, leaving him twitching helplessly underneath you while his body struggles to catch up.

Two dicks are a lot, even for someone with his ego. The stretch has to ache— and it doesn't help when you find just the right angle to brutally scrape over his prostate on every thrust.

Like that, the proud lion is mewling in no time, eyes rolling back as you manhandle his shuddering body right where you want it.

You don't need to touch his dick. Despite all insistence to the contrary, Leona is plenty capable of coming untouched... when he's truly overwhelmed by pleasure, that is.

The only nice thing to do is get him there.

Idia

When your dicks slide into him, Idia whines like he's dying.

He's plenty stretched, so you know he's not in any real pain— and yet, just one short, easy thrust has him clawing at the sheets and whimpering yet again, high-pitched and frantic.

"Would you quit whining?" you sigh. "I know I'm not hurting you, so stop being such a little bitch."

"This isn't fai—" Idia starts to complain again, but you cut him off with a much rougher snap of your hips. Judging from the muffled howl that earns, it hit his prostate dead-on... perhaps a little too hard, now that you hear starting to hyperventilate.

Well, there's one way to get Idia to stop freaking out, and that's to fuck him past the point of coherent thought. And you can do that. You fully intend to do that.

You grab one pale, scrawny thigh and hook it over your shoulder, then with the better angle, start pounding him properly.

Idia squeals. His whole body locks up and tries to curl in on itself, and when you just force his legs apart and fuck him harder, he goes from high-pitched noises of distress to moaning like a whore while his hard cock bounces against his stomach.

That's better. Much less whining.

Trey

By now, Trey knows better than to complain. He knows you'll fuck him brainless and sobbing eventually, no matter what.

"C-Come on, be a little more gentle, please?"

Asking nicely gets him much farther than being difficult, but you still don't feel like having mercy. Shoving your dicks another inch deeper into his helplessly clenching hole draws a miserable groan out of him... but his cock still twitches with interest.

"Maybe. We'll see how I feel once I'm all the way in." With a fittingly shark-like grin, you haul Trey's hips up and force your dicks the rest of the way into him in one sharp, quick slide.

Trey muffles a near-scream into the sheets— and yet, you don't miss the come that drools weakly out of his flushed dick.

He's learning to like this, one way or another.

"Don't you want to stop thinking?" you ask with a few short, quick twitches of your hips. Trey jolts with oversensitivity every time, groaning weakly, but he doesn't protest. "Come on, baby, I'll fuck you real stupid— until nothing matters at all."

His response, whatever it would have been, is cut off when you start fucking him for real. Now, all that's left is his mindless, drooling face and all-too-honest body's pleas for more.

[softsnzstuff]

All in the Family

Enjoy this little something about Eddie and Steve visiting Steve’s extended family. (College AU, 1.9k)

*****

Eddie tugged at the collar of his flannel for the fifth time in as many minutes. Steve had noticed Eddie nervously doing this as well as looking at himself in the side view mirror and finally spoke up.

“You know they’ll like you whether your collar is perfect or not.” He teased.

Eddie scoffed, adjusting the collar nonetheless. The two were on the road, making a four hour drive across state lines to spent a few days with Steve’s Aunt and Uncle. The college senior had never met any of Steve’s family before, so this was kind of a big deal for him.

“I’ll be damned if I don’t look perfect for your family, Steven.”

Steve took his eyes off the road for a second to smile at Eddie. He leaned over quickly to give Eddie a peck on the cheek.

“You look handsome as hhh always… HAESSH! E’TCHiew!”

“Bless you! Allergies getting to you?” Eddie asked.

Steve bit his lip. He’d been feeling a little off since last night, but he was so looking forward to this trip. His parents - mainly his dad - were assholes. More than that, they were absent. All the time. His Aunt, Caroline, was the younger sister of his mother and he’d always been fond of her. She and his Uncle Jerry had always welcomed him into their home with open arms whether his parents were there or not. So, there he sat, driving the car and lying through his teeth.

“Yeah. Allergies…must be.”

---

When they finally pulled up in the driveway, Eddie took it all in. It was a sizable suburban home, with walkway lights, a monthly themed doormat, and a welcoming air to it.

“Wow.” He muttered to himself as he got out of the car.

Steve got out as well, walking to the trunk to grab their bags. Eddie shouldered his and started slowly walking towards the front door.

The younger man slung his own bag over his shoulder before locking the car. A loud sneeze snuck up on him as he pitched down towards the ground before catching up to his partner.

“Bless you again.” Eddie offered a smile as they approached the door.

Steve rang the doorbell, standing closest as the door swung open. Much to his surprise, his aunt was in a baggy sweater, looking a little worse for wear.

“Steve! So good to see you!” She exclaimed, pulling him into a hug, “And you must be Eddie! We’ve heard so much about you.”

Steve flushed bright red at that statement, Eddie extending a hand for a handshake. “Nice to meet you! Thank you for letting us stay with you for a few days.”

“Anytime, Eddie, really. You must forgive Jerry for not being out to greet you - we’ve both been feeling rather sick the last day or two…Anyways your bedroom will be this first one to the right! It’s got an en suite for you and fresh towels are on the bed.”

Steve set down his bag in the doorway of the guest room before turning to his aunt, “I’m sorry to hear that. Are you guys okay?”

“We’ll be fine, Steve, thank you. Go ahead and make yourselves comfortable. Dinners in the oven.”

With that, the boys retreated to the guest room to shower before dinner.

---

Eddie awoke the next morning to Steve jostling him slightly. He slowly blinked away the sleep, taking in his partner’s appearance. It was still slightly dark out, but he could see Steve’s pale face. He had a hand against his nose.

“Steve? Are you okay?”

“M’sick Eds.” He sneezed wetly as if to prove his point.

Eddie, still half asleep, furrowed his brow and ran a hand through Steve’s hair. He didn’t like the too-warm feeling his hand was met with. Sick, definitely.

“Aw Stevie, what happened? No way you caught that from them overnight.”

“I uh… I’ve been feeling sick for about two days now.” He admitted, burying himself back under the blankets.

Eddie sat up, pulling it down just enough to meet Steve’s eyes. “Tell me what hurts. What can I do?”

Steve closed his eyes as if he were trying to take account of his own body. “Throat hurts. Head hurts. Nose is itchy. Kinda stuffy.”

Eddie frowned. “Does your aunt have any medicine?”

“Don’t think so… they’re kind of into that natural stuff.”

Eddie chuckled slightly and stood up pulling on jeans and a hoodie. “Where are your car keys babe? I’m gonna go pick you up some stuff.”

“You don’t have to do that Eddie!”

“Yes I do. I don’t want you to be miserable while we visit.”

“I think it’s too late for that.” Steve grumbled to himself.

Eddie slipped on his Reeboks and grabbed the keys, moving quietly out of the guest room. What he wasn’t expecting was to run into Aunt Caroline in the kitchen on the way out.

She appeared to be steeping some tea and some coughing could be heard from the other side of the house. She was bundled up in a bathrobe and looked worse than before.

“Oh hello Eddie! Did Jerry wake you with his coughing? I’m sorry!”

“Oh no no no, I was already up. Steve’s sick too. I’m actually gonna pop out to the store, do you need anything?”

She didn’t want to bother Eddie but seemed to ponder in her head. “Would you mind… getting us something with electrolytes? If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Of course! Go on back to bed, I’ll be back in maybe an hour.”

Eddie had to admit he had no idea where he was going once he got in the car, but luckily for him, he had a GPS in his phone. He plugged in the nearest grocery store and drive over.

His hand basket quickly filled up with the soft tissues Steve liked, daytime and nighttime cold medicine, and gatorades. While he was there, he grabbed some chicken broth, rotisserie chicken, carrots, potatoes and tofu.

After paying, he stopped at the Starbucks next door to grab an iced latte and muffin for himself, and a hot tea for Steve. With that, he made his way back to the house with his haul.

---

Steve must have fallen asleep again after Eddie left because when he woke up again, he could faintly smell something delicious through the congestion.

He got up and pulled on a jacket of his own before making his way out towards the kitchen. he was shocked to see Eddie at the stove with his hair tied up in a bun. He was stirring a big pot.

Steve came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist, nuzzling his damp nose into the crook of Eddie’s neck.

“Hey sick boy, how ya feeling?” Eddie asked over his shoulder.

“Nggh. Like garbage. H’RRUSHEW!” He ducked away from the pot, spraying a Steve down Eddie’s back.

“Thank you so much for that Steven.” Eddie tensed up.

“Fuck I’b sorry snfsnff s’duck up on m’be.”

“They all sneak up on you babe.” Eddie turned around to face his boyfriend. “Why don’t you go lay down. Soups almost ready. I’ll bring you some. Medicines in our bathroom by the way. With the tissues you like.”

Steve sighed in relief. “What would I do without you?”

“You’d die.” Eddie joked, kissing Steve on the nose and making him sneeze again, “Now go back to bed.”

Steve sulked back off to the guest bedroom while Eddie finished up the soup. He ladled some into a bowl to bring to Steve while he sipped on his iced latte. He’d have to heat up Steve’s tea too.

Eddie put a lid over the pot and turned the stove off, writing a note on some scratch paper from his backpack.

Caroline and Jerry,

Made some of my Uncle’s homemade cure-all soup. Please help yourself and feel better.

Eddie x

After that was taken care of, he brought the soup and tea in to Steve in the guest room.

---

After two full days of hanging around at the house because everyone was sick, Eddie was starting to get antsy. He turned off the Netflix documentary he was watching and turned over on the bed to face Steve.

The older man traced a finger along Steve’s chest, making his way up to his jawline before leaning forward and kissing him on the lips.

“Eddie what are you doi’g??” Steve asked.

“Trying to kiss you dummy, stop talking.”

“N’do Eddie you’re gonna get sick too.”

“Steve baby, I’ve been around you and your family all week. I’ve already been exposed. Kiss me I’m bored.” Eddie grinned, slowly trying to tug Steve’s shirt off.

Steve huffed a congested sigh, rubbing at his nose before sitting up a little to kiss Eddie back.

---

It’s been a long week with Steve’s family. Everyone started feeling better on the last day, which was great, but overall they didn’t get much time to explore like they had planned.

The boys were packing up, hoping to hit the road early. Aunt Caroline and Uncle Jerry were stood in the main entrance waiting to say goodbye.

“Thank you so much for visiting Steve. And Eddie, you’ve been so lovely. I don’t know how you managed to avoid that cold!”

Eddie smiled sweetly as Steve put a hand on his back, “I’m gonna take these bags to the car. You almost ready?”

“Yeah, just gonna use the bathroom first.” Eddie smiled and nodded at Steve’s aunt and uncle before disappearing into the en suite one last time.

Thank god Steve was bringing bags to the car - his nose was absolutely buzzing. What he didn’t tell Steve was that he’d woken up in the middle of the night with the scratchiest throat and the runniest nose.

He grabbed a fistful of tissues and pressed them to his face inside the bathroom.

“H’rrSCH! M’PTschiew! iiXTchu! snlorff”

A knock on the bathroom door startled him and made him cough slightly.

“Eddie?”

The door opened slowly and Steve peeked in, seeing his boyfriend perched on the closed toilet seat with a face full of tissues.

“Oh babe…” he walked over and pressed a hand to Eddie’s forehead, “you got sick after all…”

Eddie binned the tissues and nodded. “H’EKSHuhew! Guhhh…”

He gave a wet sniffle, not moving his arm from his face. Steve scrambled for some toilet paper, handing it to Eddie and turning away to give him some privacy. Eddie have a crackling nose blow and cleaned himself up as best he could, coughing softly.

“I’m so sorry Eddie. I’ll drive the whole way back. You can just sleep. How are you feeling?”

Eddie just groaned and shook his head in response, standing slowly to wash his hands before they hit the road.

They said goodbye to Steve’s aunt and uncle one more time as they pulled out of the driveway. Once they were out of sight, Steve pulled over so he could drape an extra jacket over Eddie and hand him the box of tissues from the backseat.

Eddie plucked a few tissues and shoved them in his nose, leaning against the window and shutting his eyes. It was going to be a long drive back to Hawkins.

[muffindaddystyles]

LOST IN ITALY.

Where Harry's cute assistant gets lost in city of Italy and the thought of loosing her drives him bullocks.

Flatulent gust of breezy wind kept wiggling through Harry’s coffee lovelocks, sunshine bounces against his soft skin and his pink heart-shaped mouth stays puckered as he takes in the beauty of his surroundings with his cheek smashed over his wrist – which’s resting atop the rooftop of yacht and his head perks up puppy like when tufty giggles maroons in his ears.

He gazes his cute assistant from under his ray bans and skims back a timid smile when her face beams with glee, her cotton puffy sleeved sundress blows away from the breeze giving glimpses of her plump thighs and Harry sucks in a breath snapping his eyes away.

“Harry look s’beautiful!” She squeals taking another picture of landscape with her grandpa's vintage Yoshika camera and Harry just rumbles his lips, shrugs and slumps back, a lazy mumble of “mehhh” elicits past his lips.

She’s just so endearing, and cute and fucking adorable it’s hard for Harry to keep from not babying her.

When he first went to sets of My Policemen he considered her rather unprofessional, as everyone kept on finding her but it seemed like she vanished into thin air, turned out when Harry took a break in his cubby she was lighting up saffron and black scented candles, “Oh! Thought you’d like comin' back to nice smelling room —-- holy fudge .... by the way, me Y/N your new assistant for the meantime.” His all grumpiness defused into bunch of reverence for her.

She'd always beat him to bringing in brekkie and smoothies for him and her fellows, sometimes giving him the velvet muffins before he goes back home --- Harry became such a drooly lovey puppy for her that he decided to keep it stern from then.

He’s trying. He’s prolly gonna fail.

Y/N isn’t very immune to water trips and she was well aware that a sickness is coming – but so soon? She didn’t know that!

So, when she chokes onto nothing and then gags driving Harry into fritz. Harry tries to keep his balls in place and not panic because that’d just spill his secret and expose him.

He quickly facades himself under stoniness, “Christ! Y/N if you die on me —-,” Though, grabs her elbow lightly and walks her to the edge of the deck.

Y/n smacks his hand away. Glares him and grunts pushing her hair away aggressively, “Don’t tell me what to do I’ll die wherever the hell I want!” His pupils resembling to that of clashing waves of sea blows away comically as she huffs and pushes past him.

“Better die and ghost you for life.” She gags into her elbow again and he rushes to grab her hand, when she pulls away with a tut he rolls his eyes brings his glasses to the bridge of his nose and looks at her from under the brown sunnies, “Jeez just holdin' a hand, not gonna slip a ring, ‘s that what yer afraid of.”

“Just admit you’re desperate to hold my hand.” She smirks up at him and he cackles, then dims into nervous chuckles because oh fuck he’s getting caught red handed.

“No.” He mutters.

How much she resists not to pout and turn all fussy over his denial she ends up doing so and it’s his turn to smirk cheekily at her.

“Are you mad? You look mad.” He wiggles his finger at her and she grumbles folding her arms infront of her bosom and cranes her head to side, “I’m not mad.”

“Yer pretty face’s all screwed up, like you’re mad.” He nibbles at her and she glowers him --- sighing at last, the wisp of her hair falling in her eyes, her lips plush and glossy from sick.

“I’m perturbed, not mad.”

Then there’s an overrated pause of silence and heartbeats before Harry pokes her knee.

“You still look mad.” His face splits into a wide cheeky grin – showing his bunny teeth and she stands up hastily wobbling a little.

“’M’not mad! But I’ll be soon Harry Styles!!!!” She goes for smacking him at chest but he jerks back and sneaks his way out squealing annoyingly, “Mommy come save me from this feisty sea-creature.”

“You mean a mermaid?” She giggles.

“No. Frogfish.” He deadpans.

“I’m not talking to you ever again!” She cries out and turns away from him but he barks out a laugh --- riling her up is the most entertaining thing and seeing her make cute fussy faces another.

“’Kay, sorry! Wouldn’t do it again.” He toddles behind her and glides his forearm against her clavicles bringing her to his front, “Says this everytime!” She squirms pushing him away but he’s ten times stronger than her and even if she’s ... she’d want to spend some more time like this.

“Wouldn’t call ye' frogfish —-.. from now on.” She nods. Humming in agreement and he turns her, holding her from shoulders and looks down at her with glinting eyes and wide toothy mouth.

“How ‘bout blobfish? They look more funny.”

“I’m gonna kill you, Harry Styles!”

..

They were given a loft infront of the shore 10 minutes drive away from the shooting place and after fighting over who'll occupy the bed, bickering and pillow fighting over it and almost making it creaky loose bench Y/N went back to living room telling him that he snores so much, “Sorry but ‘m too sensitive to piggy snorey noises – better sleep outside.” He was fuming and gritty mess, flailing his limbs like a baby because he was “the hair on his directors head” away from sharing the bed with her.

“Whateva! your loss. Don’t come t'me beggin’ to pop your backbones.” He told her in high pitched mimickness and flumped under cool sheets.

His one hour nap turned into two then three. In the meantime, Y/N made a sandwich from the fresh veggies piled in the fridge, sipped onto her matcha drink sitting beside the window and enjoyed he view, even went through her socials.

Realized that she’s missing him around her terribly even if it’s just jokes and giggles and shit, whatever, so she took her camera and went outside to take pictures of shore and the purple sky battling with hue of clouds.

She got so charmed with Italy's beauty that she kept on walking and taking pictures, only to realize when the bustle of crowd dropped into tranquil quietness and she found herself into some unknown street.

She’s fucked.

She’s lost.

She has got nothing,

Not even her phone.

She contemplates to knock on the house doors and ask for locations but she’s petrified of the idea and tries to find some shop, so she could call someone and ask them to pick her up.

Dumb. Dumb. Dumbest decision, she has ever taken in her life.

When she sees no passer by, none tourists no-one in sight and the daylight defusing and darkness laughing and taunting her tears springs in her eyes --- bubbling at the corners and weeping down furiously.

Her heartbeats drops dead when she sees a group of men approaching towards her. She runs away hiding into the dark tunnel and clamps her mouth shut from crying out loud when they walk away -- they weren’t about to do anything to her – it was just her feared instincts.

“Harry ......” She whisper-cries into her wrist, her legs weak and trembly making her tumble down into dusty stoned pavement, her back getting scratched from the bricked wall of tunnel.

..

Harry woke up to pin-drop silence. Void of the sun that was once glimmering through the window, “Y/N.” He grogs out, knuckling the sleepiness away and trudged out finding the room empty.

It startles him. Waking him up properly now. A sweat flushes down his spine when he couldn’t even find her in the washroom and at the door-steps.

He dials her number and finds it at the coffee table, gruff cruses breathes out from his mouth at that.

FuckFuckFuckFuck.

His heart feels like someone’s squeezing it mercilessly in their grip when he goes outside, but couldn’t spot her and he finds it difficult to breathe, chest heaving as he snaps his head in every direction to look for the face he’s oh so in love with.

Where are you, Y/N?

Maybe, she’s angry with me? Did I hurt her in any way? Oh, fuck. I’m such a bitch.

Now, she’s angry with me and hiding in some corner cursing me out.

I have to bring her back.

So, he calls anyone in connection with Y/N in hopes that she’s with anyone of them and when there were, “no mate --- maybe check in the washroom...” and “last time she texted, said she’s going out to take pictures.”

Harry’s face pales at that. Sick to his stomach. His fists tighten by his sides to keep his calm the world around him spins for a moment and he stables himself with the nearby railing.

Bad thoughts spirals in his mind, how much he avoids them it frightens him like his worst enemy.

What if she’s hurt? It hurts him in heart even to think that.

Got into an accident and they took her?

Fuck.

What if some mafia has kidnapped her.

Obviously, Italy is famous for mafias ..... No!No!No! Harry shut up, shut up, shut uppppp!!

He screams internally to pause everything and think rationally.

He searches for her everywhere. In every street. His feet hurting until now and he chokes onto a sob, not even wanting to think of getting police involved and still not able to have her back.

He shouts for her name. Halting past anyone looking like her, that mini dress she flaunted infront of him with a gorgeous smile –-- asked him how it looked on her and he wasn’t very interested to give a response.

If he could take all of it back and praised her like his life depended on it, only if he’d told her how much he loves her, her making sure he’s comfortable in his cubby, her bringing cold milk drinks for him, dividing her oreos with him.

His hands shakes by his side, his lip twitching constantly and his legs trembles pathetically with each step he takes.

He stops. Narrows his eyes to squint through the darkness and he feels like someone blew oxygen back in his lungs, his knees weakening at the sight of some girl sitting on the bench, her shoulders slump and her head downwards as she clutches the edge of bench, rocking on it with quite sniffles.

He prays that it’s her.

Upon, hearing the footsteps Y/N looks up and those sweet eyes are enough for him to recognize her in between many people.

“Harry?” Her voice feeble and scared.

“Oh baby .....” He mumbles. Rushing towards her, stumbling back a bit when she flies in his arms and latches to him like the missing piece of her body.

His palms curves into her ribs, her face smashed into the crook of her neck – her tears wetting his skin instantly and his cheek squished atop her sweaty hair, he hugs her for dear life making her legs dangle in the air, she sobs nuzzling deeper into his throat and he caresses her shoulders to soothe her cries down. Kisses the side of her temple with tender affection and sighs in relief.

“Shhh. Shh baby, ‘s okay. I’ve found y’now ..... ‘m here sweetheart ‘s alright.” He doesn’t stop splodging soft pecks to her forehead – scared that if he’ll she’ll get lost from his arms again.

Her hiccups painful not letting her take a breather and Harry puts her down on her feet gently, taking her face in his clammy hands and hooks his thumb into her hair gazing into her glassy eyes intensely, “Hey look at me lovie’ just .. focus on me alright?” She nods at his plea grabbing his wrists and follows his breathing pattern.

He glances back at the bench and goes to grab her camera but she cries out fisting the hem of his corduroy shirt in her tiny hands, “No!” could barely choke out from her dry throat and he turns his attention back down onto her, strokes the rosy apple of her cheeks and pets her head.

“Not leavin’ yer side baby .. was bout to get your camera fo’ you. Could come with me if you don’t like stayin' away.” He assures her softly and trots towards the bench with his arms still around her as she keeps on hiding her face into his bicep.

They walk down the street like that, she has calmed down letting a sniffle slip here and there --- this kind of scenario has never happened to her before – she has never been outside of her home city before too.

He feels her tummy screech for food so asks her, chin butted atop her head, “You’re hungry, petal. Let’s get pizza.” She doesn’t feel like eating though. When she shakes her head – squeezing him more. He takes her from shoulders looking down at her with gentleness and brushes a strand of hair behind.

“Just a tad, darlin'. I know a delicious take away round the corner ... could eat it sittin' by shore.” He offers her with a smile and punches the air happily, whistling when she agrees.

When she giggles softly, defrosting back from numbness Harry spins them a little overly gleeful.

“Got me sweet girl back.” He exclaims ducking down to kiss her cheek and now when she’s less wobblish, her lungs fills with bunches of butterflies.

Blush splatters on her features. As Harry aligns his tanned arm with her delicate one and locks their fingers together lulling it backs and forth between them lovingly.

He keeps her tucked under his chin and snuggled in his arms all the time, even while waiting in the line for the take away.

“Ow!” Squeaks, “Ow. Ow.” Jumps on his tippy toes upon balancing the hot pizza on his palm.

Grins like a mad man when succeeds in making her laugh, takes her hand and helps her climb down slippery stones.

Goosebumps arises on her skin from shyness when he coils his strong arm around her to pick her up, with pizza in his other hand and giggles breathily in her ear upon hearing her squeals.

She sits in between his knees. Leans against his chest and inhales his woodsy vanilla scent, nibbles onto the crust while hearing his heartbeat.

“You scared the living hell out of me, lovie’ ... thought —-... thought I’d never be able to have you back again ... proper vanished.” He croaks out. Runs his nose up and down the sweet curve of her neck.

“Made me realise ... that I don’t want to be away from you, ever.” Y/n's breath hitches at that and she turns in his embrace. Looks at him with surprised doe eyes and coos when his eyes gloss over with wetness, that he’s forcing to keep at waterline.

“I really like you, Y/N.”

“You do?” She gasps.

He bobs his head giddily, “Can you picture it? You and I together?” He murmurs mellow street light dancing between them.

“’Us'? I like the sound of that....” She smiles searching for his hand and he grasps it eagerly like he was yearning for it.

“Kay then, when could I take you on a date?” He grins. Dimples mauving deep and pretty.

“This isn’t a date?”

“We’re in Italy. The sky's so romantic and I’ve got you, seems like a date to me....” She peppers kisses to each rosy gap of his knuckles and his inside bursts like they never did before.

“Kay then. It’s memorable too, you got lost on our first day –--”

“Harryyyy....” She whines nudging him in belly with her elbow. “’Kay we could change that.” He laughs. Showering her in kisses and her laughs whirls loudly into quite air, trying to squirm away from his tickles.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

A Compulsive Gambler?!

Yumeko Jabami x She/Her Reader

A/N: Could you imagine Yumeko dating someone and they have no idea she’s, ya know, a gambling freak? I bet she would have a hard time pulling back like, she’d still gamble with her SO but in a sneaky, more subdued way. Something like, ‘if you can guess what number I’m thinking of you can pick what we eat for dinner’, or something like that. Seems innocent enough but she just can’t help herself into turning some interactions into gambles. Anyway, hope y’all enjoy! Word Count: 5,170

For perhaps the first time since Mary met Yumeko, the girl was a nervous wreck. The usually carefree gambling addict was pacing around the near empty classroom while she twisted the ring on her thumb around and around again with no sign of stopping. Finally, Mary had had enough. If Suzui wasn’t going to be useful and ask what the hell was going on, she would do it herself.

“What the hell is your problem? Are you going through withdrawals or something?” Mary asked with an annoyed huff.

“Oh Mary-san!” Yumeko practically moaned, the back of her hand raised to her forehead with over dramatic flair, “I don’t know what to do!”

“About what?” Mary asked, accompanied with an annoyed eye roll.

“My girlfriend is coming to visit tomorrow and she’s going to be staying with me over the weekend!” Yumeko blushed cupping her hands over her face at the mere thought of it all. It just made Mary more annoyed.

“And? Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

“You have a girlfriend?” Ryota blinked, the poor boy seemed to always be falling behind.

“Yes, we’ve been together since our last year of middle school. We went to the same high school too until I transferred,” Yumeko gushed while she hugged herself, twisting and swaying slightly on her feet, “I love her so much! It’s been hard to be away from her all this time!”

Ryota scratched his cheek. “Then... why do you seem so uneasy?”

“Well that’s easy!” Yumeko cheered, a dazzling smile over her lips. A moment passed by and Yumeko appeared to pale considerably and a nervous sweat dotted her face, her body trembled and yet, the smile stayed in place. Mary and Ryota side eyed each other before staring back at Yumeko, waiting.

“She doesn’t know about my severe gambling addiction!” Yumeko finally disclosed.

“What?!” Mary and Ryota spoke in unison.

“Yes, it’s hard to believe isn’t it?” Yumeko sighed. “I’ve kept it hidden from her all this time because I feared what she would think of me if she found out. That, and I wouldn’t want her to get hurt from tagging along. I love that girl dearly and I can’t risk losing her.”

“How are you going to keep your secret, Yumeko?” Ryota’s worry for his friend was plain on his face.

“That’s where I’m hoping you two will come in!” Yumeko grasped a hand of Mary’s and Ryota’s in both of hers, a pleading pout on her face. “Help me keep her occupied and away from any mention of gambling!”

“Are you an idiot?” Mary scoffed, not waiting for an answer. “This school is all about gambling! Not to mention we’re in the midst of this insane election. You’d be better off just having her wait off of school grounds rather than parading her around for all your enemies to see.”

“Please Mary-san, it’s only for one day!” Yumeko cooed. She tried to wrap the blonde up in her arms, but Mary stood and held her away at arm’s length.

“I’m not gonna go out of my way for this fool’s errand. I’ve got to go meet with Ririka now. Figure it out yourself, but if you want my advice you should just come clean.” Mary said, giving Yumeko one last shove as she made her way out of the classroom.

“Oh yes, do you think Ririka-san would help? Maybe we could get Itsuki in on it as well!”

“You’re on your own!” Mary called from the hallway, making Yumeko whine.

“I’ll help you Yumeko.” Ryota predictably volunteered.

“Thank you, Ryota!” Yumeko bounced giddily, “Hopefully everything will run smoothly tomorrow if we play our cards right!”

***

“(Y/n)!” Yumeko jumped the girl as soon as she saw her approach the gates of the prestigious academy and showered her face with dozens of little kisses that made her girlfriend laugh and try to wiggle away from the continuous onslaught.

“Yumeko! I take it you missed me too then?” (Y/n) smiled, catching Yumeko’s face in her hands so she could land a few kisses of her own.

“Of course! You know it was one of the hardest decisions of my life to transfer here. I need to make up for lost time!” Yumeko grinned in return. She was about to steal another kiss when someone cleared their throat behind her.

“Oh, right!” Yumeko recalled, pulling (Y/n) to her side until they were near flush together. “Ryota, this is (L/n) (Y/n). (Y/n), this is Suzui Ryota, one of my friends!”

“Nice to meet you.” Ryota said. He was no stranger to feeling out of place, but after that intimate display he had never felt more awkward.

“Nice to meet you too, Suzui-san. I hope Yumeko hasn’t caused you too much trouble.” (Y/n) joked.

Thoughts of millions of yen in debt, gambling for nails, house pets, guns in a seedy basement, among other things, flashed almost violently in Ryota’s mind but he managed to keep a somewhat pleasant expression as he answered.

“Not at all! Yumeko’s a model student,” he lied.

“Oh god, I thought you’d be in the classroom by now. So much for a quiet morning.”

“Mary-san! Good morning!” Yumeko pivoted, still holding (Y/n) close, “Come meet my (Y/n)!”

“Hi. Saotome Mary. It’s a pleasure. Excuse us a second.” (Y/n) blinked and Mary was halfway through the courtyard before she noticed Yumeko being dragged along with her.

“Are you stupid?” Mary whispered harshly with no preamble once she found a secluded spot in the trees.

“Mary-san, what are we doing?” Yumeko asked, tilting her head like an inquisitive puppy would.

“How about what are you doing?” Mary hissed back. “The whole school must know you’re dating at this point!”

“Well that’s good isn’t it?”

“It’s the exact opposite of good! Do you have any idea how many people are gonna try to use her against you now? Use your head a little!”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to help me, Mary-san.” Yumeko giggled, “but you really do care about my happiness, don’t you?”

“Shut up!” Mary blushed, pushing Yumeko away before she could hug her. “I just don’t want some innocent girl to get caught up in this crazy school. Just be more discreet from now on. She already sticks out like a sore thumb without the Hyakkaou uniform.”

“I’ll do my best Mary-san!” Yumeko clapped. “It’ll be hard though since she’s just so kissable.”

“I didn’t ask.”

When they got back to the gate, they only saw Suzui looking around desperately while sweating bullets. When he finally saw Mary and Yumeko walking towards him, he ran up to them, breathing heavily.

“Ryota? Where did (Y/n) go?” Yumeko smiled.

“Iki... Ikishima’s girls took her! Tried to.. stop them but—“ Ryota panted and wheezed, stopping the retelling of his account once Yumeko rose her hand to his lips, directing him to silence.

“See? What did I tell you?” Mary groused. “And Ikishima of all people...” Mary shut her mouth tightly upon seeing the look on Yumeko’s face. The pure disgust and hatred that rolled off of her made Mary’s skin crawl.

“Ryota, Mary,” Yumeko eerily called, “it’s time for me to get my (Y/n) back from her visit to the trash heap. You’ll accompany me won’t you?”

It went without saying that Mary and Ryota followed after their friend. Whether out of fear or support, it could have gone either way. Even Mary thought it wise not to berate the usually carefree girl with ‘I told you so’s’ in this state.

They hurried to the bowels of the school and pushed through the beautification committee members. The members didn’t retaliate, one look at Yumeko’s face was enough to make them part their ranks like Moses and the sea. Yumeko approached the big metal door and knocked three times, loud metal echoes rung out over the hum of generators and fluorescent lights.

A wild laugh sounded upon the knocks. An eager cry of, ‘she’s here!’ could clearly be heard from inside as quick steps over linoleum could be heard tapping in rapid succession towards the door before it was wrenched open with a heinous squeak from its hinges that nearly matched pitch with Midari’s own delighted squeal upon being face to face with Yumeko.

“Yu-me-ko!” Midari sang, “so glad you could join us!”

Yumeko breezed past Midari without so much as a glance and went straight for (Y/n) who was tied to a chair in the middle of the room like some crime movie.

“Oh my (Y/n), are you alright?” Yumeko cooed, freeing (Y/n) from the gag and turning her face in her hands to look her over.

“I think so,” (Y/n) shivered, “just what kind of school do you go to where people are kidnapped at gunpoint?!”

The thought of Ikishima pressing that dirty gun against (Y/n)’s head made Yumeko want to curb stomp Ikishima’s head into a fine paste, but the deranged girl would have just loved that, wouldn’t she? Instead she worked on untying the ropes from (Y/n)’s middle, comforting her girlfriend along the way.

“It’s alright my love! The beautification committee is just really serious about following the dress code. They won’t bother you anymore.”

“Yumeko,” Midari moaned from behind her, “I brought her her so you would gah—!”

Mary slapped the girl hard over the back of her head and gave her a warning look. Midari shut up more out of the delight of being hit more than anything else.

“...’Gah’?” (Y/n) flicked her eyes over everyone in the room, trying to get some kind of explanation for what the hell was going on.

“‘Gah?’” Yumeko repeated right back with a smile. “Whatever does that mean, my dear?”

“I don’t know, the girl with the eye patch said it.” (Y/n) replied, finally loose from her bindings, she rubbed her hands over her arms where the scratchy rope had dug in.

“Oh sweetheart, you must be seeing things. I see no such girl here.” Yumeko said, causing a whimper to fall from Midari’s lips. “Let’s get to my class now, shall we?”

“Anywhere is better than here.” (Y/n) sighed, choosing not to question Yumeko about the girl who had taken her. She clearly didn’t like her and after being dragged here against her will, (Y/n) couldn’t say she enjoyed the crazed girl’s company either.

“That’s my girl,” Yumeko cooed, pulling (Y/n) tightly against her side. They walked past Midari as she blubbered and crawled over the floor towards Yumeko only to have the metal door slammed in her face.

“Come on, we’re already late!” Mary griped. “Some of us have scholarships to keep!”

“I just can’t wait to be sitting in a classroom with my (Y/n) again,” Yumeko sighed dreamily, “it will be just like old times!”

“Yeah.” (Y/n) smiled though she was still coming to terms with being held at gunpoint for wearing the wrong uniform. Yumeko hadn’t even seemed to be phased by it. Like it was something that was part of the school policy. We’re all rich people schools like this? Whatever, (Y/n) wasn’t going to let this one setback, no matter how momentarily terrifying, ruin her weekend with Yumeko.

Before they could make it to their classroom, the were jumped by another second year student with literal stars in her eyes as she grabbed Yumeko’s hands.

“Yumeko, I’m so glad I caught you!” She cheered.

“Oh hello Yumemi, what are you doing outside our classroom?” Yumeko asked.

“Waiting for you! It’s been so long since the Dreaming Creaming Sisters have performed and I need you to pretty please join me for a concert!” Yumemi sparkled.

“Dream—“ (Y/n) tried to muffle her inelegant snort with her hand but the action immediately drew in Yumemi’s attention, the idol’s face darkened slightly.

“Oh? What’s so funny stranger?” Yumemi asked with faux sweetness.

“I, um, sorry. It’s just uh, a unique group name you’ve got there.” (Y/n) answered sheepishly.

“Well, I’d like to see you come up with a better rhyme for dreaming!”

“Scheming, beaming, redeeming... meme-ing.” (Y/n) listed the first words that came to her head, making Yumemi’s smile tighten further with every suggestion.

“Who’s your friend, Yumeko?” The idol asked, fake interest rolling off her tongue.

“This is my girlfriend (Y/n)!” Yumeko said with pride. “Isn’t she just so cute and smart?”

‘Smart ass maybe.’ Yumemi thought to herself.

“Anyway, I’m sorry but I can’t perform with you right now. I’ve got class and I don’t want to leave (Y/n) alone.” Yumeko explained, hugging the girl for emphasis.

“I didn’t know you were part of an idol group now, Yumeko.” (Y/n) said as Yumeko guided her towards the doorway.

“It’s just a side hobby really.”

Before they could enter Yumemi pulled (Y/n) out of Yumeko’s hold, hugging her from behind, her starry eyes dancing with mischief.

“You’ve never seen Yumeko preform then, have you (Y/n)-san?” Yumemi asked, still hugging the other girl close as she weaved her trap.

“Yumeko has sang to me before, so I know she can sing very well.” (Y/n) admitted bashfully. “I’ve never seen her act as a full blown idol before though.”

“Isn’t that something you’d like to see? We could have it all set up in a matter of minutes, wouldn’t that be great?” Yumemi coaxed.

“I wouldn’t want Yumeko to do something she doesn’t want to do. Besides, her class is starting soon.” (Y/n) said.

“I didn’t hear a no.” Yumemi sing-songed while (Y/n)’s face buzzed with heat.

“If you’d like to see then I don’t really mind, (Y/n).” Yumeko grinned, pulling her away from Yumemi, “I like the idea of singing directly to you in a sea of people. They’ll all know exactly how much you mean to me.”

“Yumeko..” (Y/n) hid her face in the giggling gambling addict’s chest.

“Oh for the love of— are we going to class or not?” Mary yelled impatiently.

“I’m afraid I have a concert to prepare for Mary-san. Will you come watch with (Y/n)?” Yumeko asked.

“Fine whatever.” Mary bristled.

They all made to leave when Mary halted Ryota with a hand to his chest.

“Wh- what?” He asked, jumpily.

“You are going to stay here and take notes. They better be good ones too.” Mary threatened.

“But—“

“Notes, Suzui.” Mary commanded. The poor boy gave a resigned nod and with drooping shoulders he sulked into the classroom.

***

While Yumeko and Yumemi prepared backstage, Mary and (Y/n) found their seats and made light conversation as more bodies filed into the seats around them. Despite dating Yumeko, Mary found that (Y/n) seemed to have a good head on her shoulders.

“Saotome-san, what is that boy taking bets for?” (Y/n) asked.

“It’s just some weird niche idol thing Yumemite does. Don’t worry about it.” Mary dismissed, though inside she was worried this would become a bigger gamble that she couldn’t possibly cover up.

“This rich people school is so weird.” (Y/n) commented offhandedly.

“Tell me about it.” Mary agreed.

The house lights dimmed and the stage was set aglow. Upbeat music began to play and the crowd around them cheered as Yumeko and Yumemi entered the stage.

They sang their opening song and (Y/n) watched with delight, her heart beating faster every time Yumeko would meet her eyes throw a flirtatious wink or smile her way. (Y/n) would wave the red glow stick she was given in return.

“Now it’s time for the event you’ve all been waiting for!” Yumemi yelled over the crowd, causing them to cheer again. “The rematch of the century!”

“Rematch? What is she talking about Saotome-san?” (Y/n) asked.

“Ah, there just seeing who can do best in various idol based competitions.” Mary responded, truly hoping that that would be it, but Yumemite wasn’t done talking just yet.

“Before you all got here, one lucky seat was chosen for the spotlight! Let’s see who it is, shall we?”

Yumemi swept her hand across the packed auditorium and one light after the other blinked across the sea of bodies while the audience cheered. A bright light shone on (Y/n) and she blinked at the sudden brightness, surprised when the light didn’t immediately flicker back off.

“And there we have it! Our visiting guest from another school, how lucky you are!” Yumemi said with mock surprise as if she hadn’t had the thing rigged from the get go.

“You’ve won the opportunity to go on a date with one of us, the Dreaming Creaming Sisters! How will it be determined who you go out with? Well, it all depends on which one of us wins this gamb—“

“Game!” Yumeko hurriedly interjected, a faint gleam of sweat streaked down her cheek.

“Well, yes, I suppose ‘game’ is also accurate.” Yumemi cocked her head at the strange outburst. Yumemi didn’t really care what Yumeko called the gamble, she just had to win it. What better way to get back at the girl than to steal her girlfriend away for a night.

“The rules to this game are simple Yumeko-chan! There will be three rounds: perfect pitch, name the tune, and choreography memory match. Win two out of three, and you’ll get to go out with our lucky chair holder! Lose, and you’ll be paying for mine and (Y/n)’s night out. I’ll warn you, I’m not cheap!” Yumemi said with a showy laugh.

“But, I’m already dating Yumeko,” (Y/n) frowned, “I can’t go on a date with someone else!”

“Just hope Yumeko wins then.” Mary sighed. At least Yumemi’s way of gambling wasn’t too obvious. Her gambles were big and grand, but to an outsider they weren’t immediately discernible as anything but stage entertainment.

“Let’s make this quick, Yumemi-chan!” Yumeko smiled, hoping she could keep her desire to up the stakes in check.

Yumeko won perfect pitch, matching nearly every note with perfect accuracy. Yumemi won name the tune as many of the songs were conveniently of a western selection. Last was the choreography memory game and (Y/n) was nervous.

(Y/n) knew that Yumeko had a splendid memory, but the girl also detested demanding physical excursions such as this. She was probably already tired from dancing at the start of the show. To (Y/n), it was not looking to good for her girlfriend.

But to (Y/n)’s surprise, Yumeko followed the impromptu routine like a champ. Yumeko refused to let Yumemi outdo her, all for the sake of keeping (Y/n) close.

“She’s going to be so sore after this.” (Y/n) marveled. “You know I used to have to threaten her to make her go to gym class?”

“You could actually make her go to gym class?” Mary rose a brow, impressed. She hadn��t seen Yumeko attend gym class since the first week of her transferring. While Mary was still a house pet, she took great pleasure in watching Yumeko suffer through that class period.

Minutes went by and the two girls each adorned a a sleek sheen of sweat as they continued to dance, matching each other step for step. The fans were going wild at the display, waiting to see how would win the dance battle of a lifetime.

Then it happened in a flash. Yumemi, in her desire to get back at Yumeko for their last gamble against Natari Kawaru, tried to add a very complex step in her next turn and fell to the stage which led to her loss.

“Jabami Yumeko wins!” The MC announced.

Saori appeared from behind stage to help Yumemi back to her feet. Though pissed and embarrassed, Yumemi hid her feelings well and congratulated Yumeko on her win.

They closed off the concert with one final song and then the event was over.

“Have a nice dinner on me!” Yumemi sparkled, shaking (Y/n)’s hand after the show before walking back to her dressing room with Saori in tow. The poor manager was sure to get an earful from the idol once they were away from polite company.

Yumeko practically collapsed in (Y/n)’s arms.

“(Y/n), I’m so tired! Carry me!” Yumeko whined.

“After all that hard work you did? Happily.” (Y/n) hoisted Yumeko onto her back and the sweaty girl squeaked joyfully, wrapping her arms around (Y/n)’s neck.

The trio talked about the show as they walked (or in Yumeko’s case, carried) through the halls, slowly making their way back to the classroom for the next class period. Mary paused in her next comment as loud, purposeful steps were quickly catching up to them.

“Jabami Yumeko!” A voice filled with contempt called from behind them.

“Oh, Sayaka! How good to see you!” Yumeko smiled, sliding off of (Y/n)’s back to try to greet the secretary with a hug.

Sayaka dodged the attempt on her life, zapping her taser in warning as she glared at the demon before her. (Y/n) wondered if all the students were allowed to carry such dangerous items at school.

“You are in violation of school rules!” Sayaka sternly informed. “You did not fill out the proper paperwork to bring an outsider into Hyakkaou.”

“Really Yumeko,” Mary scoffed, “those are like, the easiest papers to fill out.”

“I’m sorry Sayaka, it must have slipped my mind.” Yumeko apologized.

“Your apologies mean nothing to me. Escort the girl out now.” Sayaka clipped.

“All I want is to spend time with my girlfriend. Surely you could make an exception just this once, Sayaka, friend?” Yumeko pleaded.

“Don’t refer to me as your friend,” Sayaka’s jaw clenched, “better yet, don’t refer to me ever.” Then Sayaka’s expression switched from hostile to something akin to a hopeful curiousness. “Did you say girlfriend? Like dating... monogamously perhaps? As in, you aren’t looking to be dating someone else right now? You want to spend more time with her than anyone else?”

“Yes!” Yumeko nodded, smiling obliviously.

Sayaka turned her attention to (Y/n), walking up to the other girl and grasping (Y/n)’s hands tightly in hers.

“Never break up with her,” Sayaka said, the closeness of her face scaring (Y/n) slightly, “please.”

“I um, wasn’t planning on it.” (Y/n) stuttered in reply.

“My, what do we have going on here?” A silky voice called from behind the group. Sayaka gasped and removed her hands from (Y/n) as if they had burned her.

“President! Vice president! What are you doing here?” The secretary asked.

“I’ve been hearing rumors of Yumeko stirring up my aquarium with a new fish.” Kirari’s lips curled in an interested smile as she eyed the unfamiliar girl. “This must be the one, hm?”

“This is (L/n) (Y/n), my girlfriend. She’s visiting me over the long weekend and I wanted to show her around the school to maximize our time together. Unfortunately I didn’t fill out the proper forms, you’ll allow it won’t you president? Please?” Yumeko explained with a cute pout that made Sayaka livid.

“Of course.” Kirari easily complied, tapping a blue nail against her smiling, equally blue lips. “She’ll just have to gamble with me first.”

Oh no. She said it.

“Gamble?” (Y/n) looked at the president questioningly while Yumeko and Mary hosted a silent eye battle between themselves to figure out how to deescalate the situation.

“Yes, dating Yumeko, I can imagine you must be amazing at it to catch her eye,” Kirari produced a pack of cards from her blazer, “any preferences?”

“I’m not much of a gambler, neither is Yumeko. I’m not quite sure I understand.” (Y/n) answered.

“Not much of a gambler, Yumeko?” Kirari’s lips rose into a highly amused smile.

“What she means to say is that I’ve dabbled in some friendly school gambles while I’ve been here. It’s kind of a tradition at this school, (Y/n). All in good fun.” Yumeko laughed.

“Yes, try telling that to the house pets.” Kirari mused.

“Could you just, shut up for like, five minutes?” Mary seethed, turning to the masked girl standing silently at Kirari’s left, “I thought I told you to keep your sister occupied today so this exact thing wouldn’t happen.”

Ririka shyly removed her mask, looking contrite. “I tried but she wanted to know what Igarashi-san was doing.”

“Could someone please explain to me what is going on here?” (Y/n) asked holding her hands out expectantly as she looked over each face in the little group they had formed in the middle of the hall.

“How about this,” Kirari circled the girl, “you beat me in a gamble and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“And if I lose?” (Y/n) questioned.

“No penalty. This is highly entertaining for me as it stands. I just want to know if I can see what Yumeko sees in you.”

“Then I guess I don’t see the harm in it.”

“Excellent. Let’s take this party to the student council room shall we?”

Yumeko nervously twirled her ring as she watched (Y/n) sit across from the president. Kirari had all sorts of gambling dirt of her, as much as she loved (Y/n), she hoped the girl would lose this one.

“Blackjack?” Kirari asked as she shuffled the deck.

“I don’t know how to play that actually.” (Y/n) said.

“That’s fine. Texas Hold ‘Em?”

“No, sorry.”

“How about gin rummy?”

“Haven’t heard of it.”

“Thirty-one?”

“Nope.”

“Ten card no peek baseball?”

“Is that a real thing?”

“What card game do you know?” Kirari tried instead.

“...Go Fish?” (Y/n) replied.

“A woman after my own heart.” Kirari said, causing Sayaka to pout severely.

Kirari dealt the cards, spreading the remaining deck face down between them and the game was set. The pairs flowed evenly for the first couple minutes until (Y/n) had to go fish and Kirari obtained a small lead on her. (Y/n) just as quickly turned the tides a few turns later with a good guessing streak that landed her five more pairs.

The casual luck and easy going attitude (Y/n) presented while gambling with the president made Yumeko even more attracted to her girlfriend by the second, but still she hoped Kirari would turn it back around somehow.

It appeared luck wasn’t on Yumeko’s side however, as (Y/n) won the game with three more pairs then Kirari. The president smiled, mildly impressed by the outsider’s victory.

“Well then, what questions do you have for me?” She asked, shifting in her seat to cross her legs the other way.

“So this is some crazy gambling school, right?” (Y/n) asked with no preamble, not pulling any punches.

“Crazy would be subjective, but gambling is as important in this school as breathing. I’ve made sure of that.” Kirari answered.

“And Yumeko gambles.” (Y/n) said, mostly looking for acknowledgement that clarified the validity of the statement.

“Yes, one of the best in the school.” Kirari praised.

“It’s not dangerous though, right? She hasn’t done anything too drastic?”

Yumeko bowed her head, twisting her ring with a bit more force. A blush coated her skin as her heartbeat pounded in her chest. This was like a gamble in itself and oh, how intense it felt!

“Mm, hard to say.” Kirari shrugged, “I feel as though our definitions of these terms may differ.”

(Y/n) turned to face Yumeko who looked every bit the part of a scolded puppy. She didn’t need to ask any more questions. Not for Kirari to answer anyway.

“Yumeko, just what have you been up to?” (Y/n) asked, covering Yumeko’s hands to cease their twisting.

“(Y/n), I’ve been hiding something from you.” She sniffled, “I’ve been hiding it from you for a long time!”

“What is it?” (Y/n) asked gently, patting the girl’s silky hair.

“I’m, I’m a compulsive gambler!”

“Really?” (Y/n) was stunned.

“Yes, it’s true. I’ve had so many gambles I know you wouldn’t approve of.” Yumeko blinked her tears away as she allowed the truth to be out in the open. “I’ve gambled myself into millions worth of debt just so I could gamble even more, I’ve bet my finger nails, I’ve played Russian Roulette, I’ve bet my free will against become a pop idol and never being able to date again... I’m sorry you had to find it all out like this.”

“Yumeko...” (Y/n) was speechless, she didn’t know what to make of all this. Her sweet, adorable girlfriend had an intense gambling addiction that made her put herself in harm’s way on the daily?

“Please don’t break up, please don’t break up, please don’t...” Sayaka mumbled quietly to herself, rolling something that looked suspiciously like prayer beads in her hands. All the poor secretary wanted was for the snake to have a keeper that would pull her attention away from her president, was that so much to ask for?

(Y/n) sighed through her nose and pinched Yumeko’s arm harshly.

“Ow!” Yumeko whined.

“That’s for keeping secrets.” (Y/n) huffed, pinching Yumeko’s other arm, “that’s for putting yourself in dangerous situations. And this,”

Yumeko closed her eyes, waiting for another stinging pinch. Instead, she received a sweet kiss on her cheek.

“This is an apology for making you feel like you had to hide from me. I love you.”

“I love you too!” Yumeko sniffled, knocking her head into (Y/n)’s chest as she hugged her tightly.

“This doesn’t mean you’re getting a free pass anymore though, no more life changing gambles!”

“...how about three a week.” Yumeko asked shyly.

“Once a month max. You’ll kill me, my heart won’t be able to take the stress.”

“This day has been exhausting.” Mary groaned. “I thought I wasn’t going to let myself be dragged into this idiotic mess.”

“You’re a true friend, Mary-san!” Yumeko clapped.

“Ugh,” Mary ignored her, “come on Ririka, we’re running late for our next election gamble.

Ririka hurried over to the blonde and they exited the room together. (Y/n) and Yumeko followed after giving a cheery goodbye to the amused president and her disgruntled secretary.

“Lessons are over for the day,” Yumeko grinned, hugging (Y/n)’a arm as they walked towards the front gates of the school. “I bet you’re hungry, we didn’t even have time for lunch.”

“Food sounds awesome right now. Any suggestions?”

“I know a few places that might be good. We can go over them while we get ready in my apartment.”

“Sounds great.”

“Don’t let money discourage your final decision. Remember that Yumemi has graciously agreed to pay for our date tonight!”

“Oh yes, how could I forget my almost date with a pop star. How are your legs feeling by the way?”

“They’re so sore (Y/n)! Every step hurts!” Yumeko whined.

“Alright,” (Y/n) bent forward, “up, up.”

“Yay!” Yumeko cheered hopping onto (Y/n)’s back.

Yumeko refused to get off of (Y/n)’s back until they got home... which made taking the bus a little awkward.

~~~

Bonus Scene

Ryota sat stalk still in his desk, watching the hours tick by in the darkened classroom only lit by the soft light from the street lamps outside. He looked down at his notebook, filled with notes, two identical hand written copies for Mary and Yumeko. He looked back at the door, waiting for it to slide open.

“Yumeko, Mary-san,” Ryota weakly called, “please come back soon, I’m so hungry.”

[chudleycanonficfest]

Five Lies

Day 6, Story #2 is by @be11atrixthestrange

Author/Artist: be11atrixthestrange Pairing: Ron/Hermione Prompt: 5+1 Rating: M Trigger Warning(s) (if any): mentions of character death

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Five Lies Five times Ron lied to Hermione, and one time he told the truth

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

-Year Four - The Common Room

Ron was thankful the common room was empty, because he needed a moment alone. He plopped down into an armchair by the fire, and breathed a heavy sigh. His throat felt tight, and his eyes stung with unshed tears. He didn't need a mirror to tell him that his face was as red as a beet; he could feel it.

Earlier in the Great Hall, Fleur had asked him to pass the bread, and he just stared at her. Like an idiot.

George's voice still echoed in his ear. "Ronniekins, aren't you going to say something?"

And then Fred had to make it worse. "He can't! He's too busy drooling."

It seemed that everyone followed suit and laughed at him, even Fleur, whose cheeks glowed pink, her expression full of amusement and pity.

Why did Fred and George always embarrass him? They also lost their cool around Fleur — it wasn't just Ron. None of the Weasley boys knew how to act around a Veela. Ron just wished he could control it better.

"Ron? Are you okay?"

Ron froze at the sound of Hermione's voice. He hadn't heard her come in. She took a seat in the armchair across from him, but he avoided her gaze, choosing to shake his head instead.

"They were just joking around, you know," she said. Her tone was sympathetic, and he realized that he didn't care that she almost caught him crying. She would never tell anyone.

"I wish they wouldn't," he said, the words escaping through gritted teeth.

"I know. It's not fair."

Ron could feel her intent gaze, and looked up to meet her eyes. He always liked her eyes. They were big and brown, but the specific shade changed all the time. In the firelight, they almost looked hazel. "Why do they always make fun of me?

Hermione shrugged. "They probably just think you fancy her."

Ron raised his eyebrows at her. "Who, Fleur?"

"Yes, Fleur. Who else?"

He did not fancy Fleur. He didn't even know her.

It was just her stupid Veela power that made him act like an idiot.

"Well, I don't fancy her. I don't fancy anyone." The phrase took a defensive tone, slipping from his lips without a second thought. As soon as he said it, he realized that it didn't even sound true.

"You really don't fancy anyone?" Something unrecognizable crossed her face. Surprise, maybe. Maybe Hermione really did think he fancied Fleur.

He looked her in the eye and wanted more than anything to tell her the truth, but it didn't feel like an option. The thought of telling Hermione that he did, in fact, fancy someone made him a thousand times more nervous than Fleur asking him to pass the bread.

"Really. I don't fancy anyone."

Hermione's eyes narrowed, almost as if she didn't believe him. "I'm going to go to bed," she said, before turning away and shuffling off toward the girls' dormitory.

Ron watched her walk away, confusion etched across his face. It felt like a premature end to their conversation. Maybe she knew he was lying?

He shook his head. It probably wasn't about him. It was possible she wasn't feeling well — she had been looking a little pale, anyway. With a shrug, Ron rose to his feet and started toward his own dormitory, hoping Hermione would feel better in the morning.

-Year Five- The Corridor

Ron never thought he'd look forward to Prefect rounds. He had assumed they'd be nothing but a chore, cutting into his valued free time, preventing him from getting down to the Quidditch pitch to practice. He thought he'd fall behind on homework by dedicating a certain number of hours each week to his duties, but it wasn't an issue at all.

As it turned out, he didn't mind the extra work. Patrolling the corridors at night was a nice reprieve from the stress of schoolwork, and it gave him a much-needed break from dealing with Harry's constant brooding.

It didn't hurt that he got to do it with Hermione. In fact, that's probably what made it most enjoyable. They hadn't spent much time together, just the two of them, in a long while. Not since Hogsmeade visits during their third year, and it was nice.

Ron noticed things about Hermione when they were alone, things he'd never have paid attention to otherwise. Like the way she ran her fingers along the wall when they turned a corner, like she was drawing a line in sand, or how she constantly tucked her hair behind her ears only for it to pop back out again.

He learned that she licked her lips right before she spoke, and that's how Ron knew she was about to interrupt him mid-conversation. It was infuriating when she did that, but he never wanted it to stop.

"What's left to check?" she asked, startling him.

"Oh, erm, just the seventh floor, I think," he said.

"Okay, let's go. Maybe we can finish rounds early."

She turned the corner, and Ron followed behind, watching her skip down the hall. Hermione seemed to like Prefect rounds too; he could tell by the bounce in her step. Everything about her seemed to be relaxed; her stride, her smile, and her overall demeanor. Her shirt hung loosely on her frame, as she'd released its top button, and her socks were pushed down to her ankles, as if even her clothes knew it was the end of the day.

He shouldn't be thinking about her clothes. That was dangerous territory.

Ron cleared his throat. "Yeah, that would be fun. Could always use more free time."

"Or, you could use the extra time to get ahead on McGonagall's essay," she teased, smiling back at him. His neck felt hot.

"Only if you help me."

"Of course," she said. "Homework is more fun when we do it together."

"I agree."

Ron was beside her now, and he stole another glance in her direction. Her face was flushed; it was warm on the higher floors, and her skin glowed from a light sheen of sweat. How had he never noticed that she had a few scattered freckles on her nose?

"Why do you keep doing that?" she asked. Her eyes were on him now, and he felt the warmth in his neck spreading.

"Doing what?" he asked, his tone defensive.

"You're staring at me!"

"I"m no—"

"Yes, you keep doing it," she argued. Although her cheeks were rosy and her eyes narrowed, she wore a faint smirk and didn't seem to be angry. She was just teasing him.

He kind of liked it.

"Well, if you must know, you have something on your cheek," he lied.

"I do?" asked Hermione as she wiped her face with her sleeve. "Did I get it?"

"No, let me try."

Hermione paused and took a step closer to him. He reached a hand up to her face to cup it and brushed a thumb across her cheek, trying to ignore the tidal wave that crashed in his stomach at the contact. Her skin was so soft.

He couldn't let his hand linger on her face without attracting suspicion, so with great effort, he let it drop to his side.

"Is it gone?"

"Um. Yeah."

She pressed a hand to her cheek. "What was it?"

Nothing. "Not sure," he said.

"Hmm," shrugged Hermione. "Well, thank you!" She turned to skip back down the hallway, a few strides in front of Ron.

"No problem," muttered Ron.

He could still feel a tingle on his thumb, the memory of her soft skin still fresh on his mind. He watched her run ahead of him, trying not to think too hard about the way her hair bounced or her skirt fluttered with each stride, because it was maddening.

He groaned. As maddening as it was, he hoped that would never stop. That way, he could keep it on the list of reasons to look forward to Prefect rounds.

-Year Six- The Courtyard

Finally, Ron was alone on a bench in the courtyard, having just convinced Lavender to let him be so he could "study". In reality, he just needed some space.

He liked her enough, but being with Lavender wasn't what he had imagined having a girlfriend to be like. It was nothing like being friends with a girl, at least from his limited experience. All Lavender wanted to do was snog, and Ron missed having someone to talk to, tease, and argue with.

Truth was, he missed Hermione. But unfortunately, she wanted nothing to do with him. She made that perfectly clear in the form of a flock of canaries, and he still had the scabs to remind him.

Ron closed his eyes and was enjoying the silence when the most unexpected voice pulled him back to the present.

"Hey."

His eyes snapped open to see Hermione standing there, right in front of him. Think of the devil. 

"Hey." His response just spilled out of his mouth, and it didn't take on the angry tone he had intended. He sounded almost excited to see her.

Thankfully, she didn't seem to notice, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. "Ron, can I talk to you?"

Ron cleared his throat and asked in his most stoic tone, "Promise not to attack me again?"

"I promise."

"Then go on," he said, crossing his arms across his chest so Hermione could get a full view of his scars.

"I'm— I'm sorry about that." She motioned to his arms, and her eyes watered with tears.

"I know you are."

She averted her eyes and licked her lips before continuing. "I was jealous, and it wasn't fair. I hope you can forgive me someday."

She continued to stare intently toward the ground as her cheeks brightened, and Ron resisted a smile.

"You were jealous?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her. He kept his face neutral, but he couldn't lie — it was a nice thing to hear. He just wished he heard it sooner.

Hermione nodded and finally met his gaze. "I was."

Her eyes were strikingly dark and deep, a fact he'd always appreciated, but had forgotten over the last few weeks. He could stare at them for hours, but he willed himself not to fall under their spell. "Why didn't you talk to me instead of turning birds on me?"

Everything would have been so much easier.

"That's why I'm talking to you now."

"Well, it's too bloody late. I'm with Lavender," he said, unsure who he was trying to convince.

"I know it's too late. I just wanted you to know."

It seemed like an eternity that they stood there in silence, neither wanting to continue the conversation nor feeling like it was over.

Hermione was the first to break the silence. "Are you happy with her?"

And how the hell was he supposed to answer that?

Ron was thrilled Lavender wanted to be with him. She wanted to kiss him, hold his hand in public, and call him her boyfriend. What wasn't to love? He should be happy with her, she was almost everything he had ever wanted.

That, and he'd be an ungrateful arse if he said no. "Yeah. I am."

She nodded solemnly, and Ron swore he could see her eyes glisten with tears. "Then I'll try to be happy for you too," she said, her voice cracking.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. It wouldn't have mattered anyway because Hermione had already turned her back to him and was walking away. He watched until she turned the corner, trying to convince himself that he had told her the truth.

-Year Seven- The Tent

Rain pounded against the canvas tent, and the way the sound echoed through the air made the space feel hollow and empty. Ron could feel the weight of the locket around his neck, its chain digging into his skin. It felt almost like icy fingers clutching his throat, threatening to squeeze should he try to ignore it. He didn't think he could ignore it, even if he tried. The cold metal against his skin paired with its threatening voice inside his head almost commanded more attention than the slowly healing wound on his shoulder.

Ron was lying on his cot, covered in blankets that seemed to do nothing to keep him warm. He could hear Hermione flipping through a book across the room in her own bed, probably just as cold as he was.

"How's your shoulder?" she asked. To Ron, her voice sounded full of both pity and impatience, as if her real question was why he hadn't healed yet. What was taking him so long?

She doesn't actually care about your shoulder.

"It's fine," he snapped back.

He could feel the tension in the pause that followed, and even though he wasn't looking at her, he could imagine her jaw clenching, her cheeks reddening, and her eyes rolling.

"You don't need anything?" she eventually asked, her tone stiff and controlled.

Listen to her. She thinks you're pathetic. Needy. It disgusts her.

Instead of answering, Ron just shook his head. He knew she was watching him because he could feel her big brown eyes boring into him.

"Okay then."

He heard her book close, then the sound of her sliding out of bed. Ron turned to look just as she bent down to rummage through her bag. She faced her back to him, and Ron could make out the shape of her bum through her sweatpants. It sent a pang of longing through his entire body, and the locket wasted no time latching on to the opportunity to harass him further.

Go ahead and look, but don't kid yourself; you'll never touch.

He averted his eyes when she stood up.

"What are you doing, then?" she asked, now clutching a different stack of books under her arm.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" she chirped. Her voice wavered as she lost control of keeping it neutral. "You know we have horcruxes to find."

She narrowed her eyes, and her cheeks ignited with red. Her hair seemed to expand and swarm her head. It wasn't just anger that did that to her. She looked electric whenever her passion was kindled, whether due to anger, schoolwork, elf-rights, or him.

He could rile her up, and Merlin, did he enjoy doing it. He was always up for helping her unleash that stored up tension through an argument. Often he wondered how else he could help her find that release. A few ideas came to mind.

Never going to happen.

"Are you seriously angry at me?" he asked, his tone sharp and scathing.

"You know what? Yeah, I am," she launched back.

"Well, sorry I'm injured, Hermione," he laughed, now sitting up in bed. "Let's not forget that you're the one who got me splinched."

"And let's not forget that I'm doing everything I can to help you heal."

She thinks you're a burden. A waste of her time.

"Okay, then stop complaining about me not doing anything when you know I can't."

Hermione crossed her arms and took a step closer. Ron willed himself to keep his eyes on her face, even though her shirt was too big, so the sleeves fell off her shoulder, and there was a patch of exposed skin above her waistband, reminding Ron of how soft her skin was. It had been so long since he touched her.

"Then stop staring at me like that," she said. "I can't tell if you're mad at me or if you want me to do something for you, and honestly, I'm kind of sick of cooking you dinner and not even hearing a thank you."

Don't you dare give her the satisfaction of apologizing.

"Seriously, what do you want from me?" she continued.

What a loaded question. Ron wanted everything from her — her time, her attention, and her body. When she removed his shirt to check his wound, he wanted her to remove his trousers too. He wanted her to crawl in bed with him and let him take her clothes off, piece by piece. He wanted to be strong enough to hold himself up so she could slide underneath him and wrap her legs around his hips. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, shag her, and then hold her afterward, fall asleep together, and wake up entangled with her.

Too bad she doesn't want you back.

"I don't want anything from you."

She softened her stare and took a step back. Maybe he was reading too much into her expression, but Ron could have sworn he saw a flash of disappointment on her face, as if she hoped there would be something he wanted from her.

You're imagining that. 

"Good," she said, unknowingly confirming the locket's taunt, before turning away and leaving him there, in his bed, cold and alone.

-Year Seven- Shell Cottage

Although Ron might have looked peaceful and serene sitting so still, his mind was anything but calm. He closed his eyes and leaned against the back of the armchair, trying his best to fall asleep, but he was far from tired. His back ached, and he longed to get up and move, but it wasn't worth leaving Hermione's side.

It felt like he had been waiting days for her to wake up, and in that time, he had imagined the worst.

For one, he feared that she might not wake up at all, ever, and the empty hole that her screams had carved within him would be there for the rest of his life, like a scar across his heart.

Two, that she might wake up but never be the same, just like Neville's parents. Maybe she wouldn't remember him. Maybe she would, but she wouldn't understand when he told her he loved her.

And three, that she'd awake with clarity, forever haunted by the memory of what happened to her. Maybe she'd associate her trauma with the magical world, or with Ron himself, and she'd leave it all behind. He'd support her, of course, and he'd be thrilled she was okay, but he wouldn't be okay. He wasn't okay.

So he sat there, looking peaceful but panicking internally. He had no idea what to expect when and if Hermione woke up.

He was utterly shocked when she spoke to him.

"Hi, Ron," her voice snapped his eyes open. She was watching him, even smiling at him. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming.

She chuckled when he pinched himself.

"Oh, thank Merlin you're awake," he said when his pinch did nothing.

"Did you sleep here?"

"Yeah. I hope that's okay," he said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"Have you left my side?" she asked, her eyes wide, questioning yet knowing.

He shook his head no, and his cheeks grew hot.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He smiled at her, and she smiled back. There was something so innocent about the interaction; it felt like they were just kids nervously admitting a crush. Her hand was lying on the edge of the bed, inches from his, and he didn't hesitate to reach for it and intertwine their fingers. She squeezed his hand back, although weakly, and he ran his thumb across her skin. Even bloodied and scarred, her skin was as soft as he remembered.

"I'm so glad you're okay," he said.

"Me too."

"Are you in pain?"

She nodded. "A little."

"I can have Fleur bring up some pain potion."

"Yeah, but not yet."

"In a bit, then."

They shared a look, an acknowledgement that they were alone, and pain potion could wait. Neither felt the need to give it words, they were awful with words, the king and queen of miscommunication, but there was nothing to misinterpret in a simple look.

"Can I hug you? Gently, of course."

Hermione nodded, and Ron inched forward on his chair to wrap his arms around her. Her head nestled into his shoulder, and he buried his face in her hair.

"How's Harry?" she asked, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

"He's fine," Ron answered. "Worried about you, of course."

She nodded. "And you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you okay?"

Ron sighed and pulled her closer. Was he okay? He had a few cuts and bruises, but that was nothing compared to his emotional toll. He helplessly listened to Bellatrix torture the woman he loved, hadn't slept since they arrived at Shell Cottage, and had spent days fearing she'd be gone. In those days, he learned exactly how much was at stake. He could still lose her.

He wasn't okay.

"Yes, I'm okay," he muttered, hoping that it would be true soon enough.

-After The Battle-

The Treehouse

Ron didn't mind the quiet of the treehouse; it was much better than the silence of the Burrow. At least the treehouse was supposed to be that way. He was leaning over the edge, forearms on a wooden beam, and through the leaves, he could make out the tall, lopsided house he called home. Before now, the Burrow always looked like it was bursting at the seams, about to collapse from the energy inside. His mum would say it was magic that held it together, not carpentry, but now it didn't matter. It seemed empty, and the magic was gone.

The treehouse was where Ron would always come when he needed to be alone. With six siblings, there was always someone yelling, laughing or crying. But not with five. Even though there were so many people back in the house, it was still too quiet. No one knew what to say, so they said nothing. Fred wouldn't have wanted that.

"Hi."

Ron startled at the voice. He had been too lost in his thoughts to hear anyone approaching but instantly relaxed when Hermione stepped up beside him, shoulder to shoulder. He smiled; in the days following Fred's death, Hermione was the only one who could elicit that reaction from him.

"I brought you something," she said.

He looked down at her hand to see that she was holding a plate of food — Mum's shepherd's pie, treacle tart, and pumpkin juice.

"Thank you, Hermione," he said as she handed him the plate. "I didn't want to go inside and talk to people."

"I know."

Ron turned away from the edge and slid to a seat, resting the plate on his lap. Hermione settled in beside him. "How'd you know where I was?"

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I had a hunch."

Ron thought back to the last time they had been in the treehouse together — the previous summer before Harry arrived. He didn't even remember the first time he brought her here, but through all those summers, the treehouse became a place where they could just be. They could do whatever they wanted here, yet not once had she rested her head on his shoulder.

He looped his free arm around her, encouraging her to lean in, and pressed a kiss to her hair. He had always wanted to do that, and it was so strange to be able to now. If the circumstances were better, he'd like to do so much more.

"Will you stay?" he asked.

"As long as you need me to."

The longer they sat there in comfortable silence, leaning against one another and eating from the same plate, the more he wished they could just stay there forever. It was the perfect place to hide from his grief.

Maybe he shouldn't be hiding from grief, but the pain of Fred's loss only accentuated what he felt for Hermione. It was about time he had something to be happy about, even if that happiness was confined within the walls of the treehouse. After all, he had a feeling that the reality of Fred's death would hit him like a ton of bricks as soon as he left.

So maybe he'd just stay.

"What's on your mind?" asked Hermione.

She was on his mind but based on her smirk, she knew that. He must have been staring at her. That had been happening a lot lately.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Of course."

He'd never told her how he felt, but he was in the treehouse, where everything was perfect, and nothing could go wrong. Now was as good a time as any.

"I'm thinking about how much I love you."

She met his gaze and he watched those warm brown eyes grow wide. "Really?"

"Yes," he said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You don't have to say it back, I know it's soon—"

"I love you too," she interrupted, leaning her head against his hand. "Always have."

Even though a world of mourning awaited Ron outside of the treehouse, he couldn't help but smile. Hermione could do that for him; she was just like the magic that once held his house together.

"Brilliant," he said as he leaned in for a kiss, one that she happily returned.

He loved that they could do this now.

It was an odd feeling, being so genuinely elated and grief-stricken at the same time, but he simply couldn't feel any other way; it was the truth. And at this point, if anyone deserved the truth, it was Hermione.

[ticklishfiend]

Of o were to give you a lee Deku fic, I’d say something where Todoroki is obsessed with giving Deku raspberries especially on his tummy. He’s super ticklish there and Todoroki thinks it’s the cutest thing ever. 💖💖

A/N : okay while i was writing this i got carried away and wrote lee!todoroki instead bc i completely forgot that i LITERALLY ASKED FOR LEE!DEKU PROMPTS...i’m an idiot and i sincerely apologize LMAOO i hope you enjoy it anyways but i WILL be writing a lee!deku in the very near future so don’t you worry lol

So Comfortable (My Hero Academia)

Lee!Todoroki / Ler!Midoriya

Summary : Todoroki and Midoriya are cuddling in bed when Midoriya decides he wants to feel Todoroki’s heartbeat under his hoodie. When he realizes his boyfriend is a little sensitive, he can’t help but take advantage of it.

Word Count :  1905

REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!! MWAH <33

... 

Todoroki breathed in the comforting scent of green apple shampoo, his nose nuzzling into the mess of curls snuggled underneath him. The boy with the power to control fire had never felt a cozier warmth in his life, the back lying against his chest substituting as the best blanket in the entire world. One of his hands held onto Midoryia’s front protectively, while the other was laced with the green-haired boy’s own scarred and calloused fingers, though to Todoroki, nothing had ever felt softer.

Everything felt so right. So perfect. So comfortable. The bi-colored boy hadn’t known real comfort in so long, and somehow this shorter, timid kid he had only met a little over a year ago now had brought more comfort into his life than he had ever truly known. He felt safe close to him, which to most people wouldn’t mean that much. But to Todoroki, closeness meant everything. He wasn’t going to let just anybody be this close to him, and he wasn’t going to be this close to just anyone. Midoriya had managed to wiggle his way into Todoroki’s comfort zone, and the previously-thought cold-hearted boy hoped he never, ever made his way out.

Todoroki felt the mess of hair under his nose move, tickling his face slightly, and he looked down to be greeted by Midoriya looking right back up at him with a small, relaxed smile.

“Hey,” Midoriya spoke gently, his thumb caressing the top of Todoroki’s hand.

“Hello,” Todoroki smiled a little awkwardly, but Midoriya knew he was sincere either way. Midoriya shuffled a bit under Todoroki’s protective hold, repositioning himself on top of the boy’s body completely, but this time with his stomach down on the other’s so he could look right up at him.

“You’re nice to look at,” Midoriya smiled dopily, his head tilted slightly. Todoroki chuckled, not being able to help the small blush on his cheek from the most endearing compliment. He looked at his partner with the utmost fondness in his eyes, bringing his hand up to stroke a thumb over his cheek.

“Right back at you,” Todoroki’s words were laced with a smile, Midoriya humming in response. The green haired boy leaned down to nuzzle his face into Todoroki’s warm chest, his cheeks smushing against the firmness of his muscles created by years of training.

“I can feel your heartbeat,” Midoriya’s words were muffled by the fabric of Todoroki’s hoodie. He brought his face down lower towards the boy’s stomach, Todoroki gasping slightly when he felt Midoriya’s hands creep underneath the fabric and onto his sides, worming their way upwards towards his chest. “Wanna feel it with my hands.”

His hoodie was now pushed up towards his lower ribs, pale tummy on display as both of Midoriya’s hands rested over the spot on Todoroki’s chest that concealed his heart, which at this point was beating harder than it had the whole afternoon. Midoriya smiled down at his belly, nuzzling his face into it’s pale, taut expanse. Todoroki let out another small gasp at the strange feeling, his hands moving up to gently tangle into the mess of green hair.

“Midoriya, what are you doing..?” Todoroki’s words were soft from fluster, his eyes a little wide at the odd display of affection. He couldn’t help the small tinge of smile on the corners of his lips, however, as the boy’s nose felt just ticklish enough to ignite that nervous flame in the pit of his stomach.

“You’re just so cuteee,” Mirodiya cooed into his belly, bringing his hands down to hold firmly onto Todoroki’s sides to make it easier for him to continue his playful nuzzling. The dual-haired boy choked on a small giggle, squeezing a little harder on the boy’s hair. He could feel Midoriya’s lips smile against his tummy, a blush creeping up from Todoroki’s neck to paint over his cheeks and ears. “Does this tickle?”

Todoroki let out a huff of air, embarrassed and oh, oh so flustered. “Um, a-a little, yes,” he mumbled out in a stutter, his partner chuckling in response.

“That’s adorable,” Mirdoriya hummed, kissing right above the boy’s belly button with an intensely gentle softness that made Todoroki feel like he could combust at any given second. The freckled boy didn’t just stop at his one kiss however, oh no. He started peppering them with that same softness all over the boy’s tummy, and Todoroki was helpless to the small and obviously flustered titters that escaped from the softest parts of himself he didn’t even know he had before meeting the boy.

“Ah- M-Midoriyahaha-” Todoroki breathed out the smallest of giggles, which only pressed his partner on further, his gentle lips now journeying over towards his left side, the ticklish feeling making Todoroki choke out a real giggle this time. “It tihihickles!”

“You’re so ticklish, it’s too precious,” Midoriya smiled brightly against the boy’s skin before lifting his head up to gaze at his face. Todoroki’s cheeks were painted with the most delightful blush, a dopey smile taking over his features,making Midoriya genuinely feel like the single luckiest person on the planet to be able to see such a stoic boy from this perspective. 

“Have you ever had a raspberry, Shoto?” Izuku asked with a tilt of the head and a mischievous smirk. Todoroki blinked.

“Like...like the fruit?” Shoto asked, his brows a little furrowed in confusion, Midoriya just chuckling at his response. “I don’t understand, why are you laughing?”

“You’re just cute,” Izuku said, enjoying the blush and pout Shoto gave him. “I’m not talking about the fruit, Sho. Here, I’ll just show you.”

With that Midoriya leaned back down towards his partner’s tummy, drawing in a rather large breath, expanding his lungs as much as he could, before pressing his lips back down on the soft skin of Shoto’s belly and-

“PPPBBBTTTHHH~!” Midoriya blew hard onto his tummy, his partner letting out the loudest surprised squeal he had ever heard before cackling as Izuku continued placing smaller raspberries all over the expanse of Shoto’s sensitive tummy.

“GAHAHAHA! IZUHUHUKUHUHU! NAHAHA! WHAHAT IHIHIS THIHIS?!” Todoroki screamed, kicking his legs out behind Midoriya as the mischievous boy began kneading at his oh so sensitive sides, throwing Shoto into an entirely new wave of cackles as he now gripped tightly onto the boys shoulders (though he wasn’t pushing him away, much to Midoriya’s amusement).

“Raspberries, silly! Do they tickle?~” Izuku asked, blowing more ticklish raspberries all over his sensitive tummy and sides, even travelling just far enough upwards to blow one right on his bottom ribs, making the writhing boy underneath him jerk hard with a scream.

“YEHEHES! IT TIHIHICKLES!” Shoto cackled, squeezing his eyes shut tight. His body instinctively tried curling in on itself, folding forward until his own nose was nuzzling unintentionally into Izuku’s messy curls. “PLEHEHEHEASE!”

Midoriya chuckled. “Please what, Sho?”

“I DOHOHON’T KNOHOHOW!” Shoto shook his head frantically through his laughs as Izuku moved his hands downward to squeeze and knead into the boy’s hips. Shoto bucked at the sensation, throwing his head back against the pillow in mirth, digging his heels into the bedsheets behind Izuku.

“Aw, you don’t know? Does that mean you like it? You don’t want me to stop?~” Izuku teased, before inhaling sharply and blowing another torturous raspberry into Todoroki’s tummy, making the boy scream out another fit of high-pitched cackles.

“NAHAHAHA! NO TEHEHEASES! YOU’RE SO MEHEHEAN!” Todoroki babbled around his laughs, his giggles becoming more frantic. Midoriya thought it might be time to give the boy a breather, slowing his tickles down to just his nails tracing teasing little shapes into Shoto’s sides and on the bottoms of his ribs. Todoroki absolutely melted into a puddle of breathy giggles, his grip on Izuku’s shoulders still just as tight. Izuku rested his cheek onto Shoto’s tummy, looking up at his partner’s ever-flushing face with the utmost love in his eyes. 

Todoroki finally calmed down enough to open his eyes and look down at his partner, who was still lightly tickling at his sides enough to keep him on a giggly edge.

“Sohoho that’s a raspbeheherry?” Todoroki asked, his face suddenly scrunching up in a clenched smile, his eyes squeezing shut as Izuku found a particularly sensitive spot right on the backs of Shoto’s lower ribs. Todoroki arched his back a bit, frantic breathy giggles escaping his throat as Izuku’s fingers stayed on that one torturous spot. He teasingly traced shapes into the area, smiling as he realized just how sensitive the boy under him truly was. “Izuhuhukuhu! Nohohot thehehere, ihihit-”

“-Tickles?” Midoriya asked, Shoto just nodding his head through his snickers and titters. Izuku just chuckled, moving his fingers back down a little to tickle at a less sensitive area and calm his partner down a little. “So sensitive. I could do this all day.”

“I don’t thihink I could survihihive,” Todoroki snickered before finally bringing his hands down to stop his partner’s torturous and wiggly ones at his sides. Izuku pouted a little as he was forced to stop tickling until Shoto laced their fingers together and looked the boy in his eyes. “Kiss me? Please?”

Izuku just smiled, his heart overflowing before melting through his ribs. He nodded, bringing his face up to meet Shoto’s lips in the middle. He dissolved into the kiss, feeling as if he was melting into Shoto’s face with how jelly-like he felt. He unlaced his fingers with Shoto’s to cup at the dual-haired boy’s cheeks, his thumb caressing at the scar he thought brought out Todoroki's eyes. 

Once their interlocked lips parted, they both looked into each other’s hazed over eyes. Midoriya brought his face down to gently nuzzle into Todoroki’s neck, leaving tiny kisses wherever his lips could reach. Todoroki’s shoulders instinctively tried bunching up at the ticklish sensation, his giggle fit coming back, this time much softer and much breathier. 

“Really? Ticklish here too?” Izuku smiled into his neck, leaving peppered kisses again on purpose this time just to hear the boy giggle. He felt him nod, and he knew they boy had to be blushing.

“Cahahan’t help ihihit,” he giggled, scrunching up so much his cheek smushed into Izuku’s head. Then he felt Midoriya draw in another big breath, and before he had the chance to do anything about it, Izuku blew another fat raspberry, this time into the boy’s sensitive neck.

Todoroki screeched, shoving his heels into the bedsheets and grabbing at the boy’s shirt for anything to brace himself with. “GYAHAHA! QUHUHIT! YOU’VE MAHAHADE YOUR POHOHOHINT! I’M TICKLIHIHIHISH!”

Izuku pulled himself out of Shoto’s neck with a wide grin, kissing Todoroki’s nose before laying his head back down onto the boy’s chest, nuzzling into the fabric of his shirt. “M’sleepy…”

Shoto chuckled with a shake of his head. “Oh yeah, I’m sure you’re just so wiped out from nearly killing me just moments ago,” He snickered before placing a kiss on top of the boy’s head. Izuku giggled with a nod.

“You know it,” Izuku yawned, and before Shoto knew it, the boy was snoring on top of him. Todoroki just smiled down at the boy, thumb caressing over his freckled cheek. 

“I love you,” Todoroki whispered to the sleeping boy he knew couldn’t hear him, gently laying the blanket beside him over him and his partner’s sleeping frame.

Todoroki was finally truly comfortable, and he only had one person to thank.

...

A/N : thanks for all the support i’ve been getting recently! sorry this is kinda short, i’ve been having a lot of migraines recently so i haven’t felt like writing much, but i’ll be getting to more of those prompts soon! hope you enjoyed! much love <33

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Hello i would kill for some awkward Connor attempting to comfort Chris during training please and thank you

Follow-up to this piece from yesterday

CW: Pet whump, implied whump of a minor, bruising, some dehumanizing language, BBU, facility whump, creepy comfort, The Moral Standards of Monsters, some implied conditioning due to ableism (blink-and-you’ll-miss-it)

“Hey, Manning.”

Connor looks up from his lunch - he’s at his desk in his training room, a sandwich, bag of chips, and bottle of his iced coffee set out in front of him while he finishes up paperwork from the last trainee’s fitness reports - and sighs. Fucking Luke goddamn Petrus. “Yeah?”

For a second, his stomach flips. Linda swore up and down that the complaint would be anonymous, and Connor isn’t the only person in the hallway who has brought up the screaming being… irritating… but still.

Luke is Director Renford’s favorite in a big way, her loyal henchman, and he can make a handler’s life a living hell if he wants to.

Luke leans against the open doorway, giving him a bright smile. Above the expression, though, Luke’s blue eyes stay cold as ice. Like the Director, Connor thinks sometimes. Two fucking peas in a pod, and Connor’s always a little bit on the outside.

Lately, though, he’s been feeling kind of grateful he’s on the outskirts. The Director’s approval is something everyone works for, but having her focus on you too long and too thoroughly sounds as terrifying as her anger.

“I just got called up to a meeting with Renford.”

Renford. Like they’re buddies. Like he’s equals with her. Connor keeps his mouth shut, but he wonders how the Director would react if she knew he calls her Renford when she’s not right in front of him. “Good for you. I don’t see why that should affect my lunch break.”

“The meeting could last a few hours. I know you’ve got the afternoon off from trainee work. Would you mind keeping an eye on one of mine? He’s just out of a week in solitary, so he’s needy as fuck.”

Connor perks up a little at that. Needy trainee and unscheduled afternoon sounds like just the pick-me-up he needs today. “He need any training work?”

“Nah. Do whatever you want with him.” Luke gives Connor a wink. “He’s got some top notch fucking flexibility. Just saying. You can twist him into pretzels. Tell him he’s being good and he’ll do it all himself. Kid’s eager as fuck now that we’re past the halfway point.”

Kid?

Connor swears internally but keeps his expression carefully the same. “What do you mean, kid, Luke? Wait a sec-”

“I’ll bring him in, hold on!” Luke’s already gone from the doorway.

Connor has a sinking feeling of realization that Luke didn’t just randomly decide to leave a trainee with him. He must’ve figured out who put the fucking complaint in. And he knows that Connor hates the screaming, if he knows that.

Which means…

Luke reappears, and sure enough, the little redheaded trainee who is the cause of all the wailing and sobbing is right beside him.

No weights hanging from his hands this time, but there are deep red marks around his wrists and bruises at his upper arms just below his sleeves that suggest he’s done plenty of training work this morning, whatever Luke says.

Jesus, this kid is eerily beautiful. Pale skin, flushed in the aftermath of tears, with a smattering of freckles all over like constellations of stars. His hair’s that rare shining strawberry blond, with eyebrows pale enough to make him seem faintly inhuman. Connor wonders exactly which piece of shit with a thing for teenagers put the order in.

He wants to make sure he doesn’t vote for the guy.

Not that Connor Manning votes.

But maybe he’ll start, and then start purposefully voting for someone else. That's probably way more effort than he'll ever put in to anything that isn't work or Socks, but it feels kind of nice to think about it.

The trainee keeps his eyes carefully down on the floor. Connor notes he’s not even wearing the shock collar any longer - just your average band of black leather, buckled at the side, no padlock. Not only not being shocked, or not needing it, but already far enough along not to try and remove his own collar.

“Luke. I’ve told you how I feel about the underagers-”

“Yeah, and I’ve told you that you can judge me when you're an angel, numbnuts. You’re not better than me. You just have different victims.”

“Oh, the Director would have a shit-fit hearing you call the trainees victims.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m the only one who really grasps exactly what it is we do here, Manning. I just also happen to enjoy it. Do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life, right?"

“Go fuck yourself, Petrus. I enjoy my job just fine.” Why is he defensive about this? Connor doesn’t quite understand the surge of irritation within him. Why does he give a fuck what Luke goddamn Petrus has to say about anything, anyway?

“Yeah, for now you do. We’ll see how it goes. I’ve been at this gig for a long time, I see the ones who flame out, and you’re one of them. Anyway, I’ve got to go meet with Renford, I’ll be back by three. If you get tired of him, just put him on the mat and I’ll pick him up when I’m done.”

“Yeah, okay.” Connor frowns, pushing himself to his feet. “I do like my job, Petrus.”

“For now. Bet I’ll be the only person here totally unsurprised when you quit one day.”

“I’m not going to quit.”

“I’ll bet you a thousand damn dollars you do, and I’ll raise the bet to fifteen hundred that it’s over your fucking conscience making a reappearance.”

“Don’t have one."

Luke just sighs, and gives Connor a patronizing little smirk before he turns and leaves. The trainee looks over his shoulder to watch Luke go, pleading with his eyes but not saying a word. The door shuts, and Connor and the trainee are alone.

Connor clears his throat, picking up the sandwich but finding he doesn’t really want it any longer. “What’s your number, trainee?”

The boy’s eyes snap back to him, briefly, before they drop to the floor. Connor notes with vague professional detachment that they’re red-rimmed. He’s been crying again, but then, when isn’t this fucking trainee crying?

When he’s screaming instead, Connor’s thoughts answer him.

God, he wishes these trainees didn’t get to him so much. He can’t talk to anyone about it, either, word will get out Connor Manning has regrets. Questioning the company is a good way to find yourself on the wrong end of a shock collar.

“223499, sir,” The boy says. His voice is low and soft, and each number and word is deliberately placed, as if he’s carefully pacing himself as he speaks. “Designation… Romantic-”

“Yeah, I knew that already. That’s all Luke does.” Connor leans his chin on his hand, looking the kid over. There’s solid muscle in that kid, he thinks, legacy of whatever life he lived before. It’s wasting away under the carefully calibrated malnourishment they’re all subjected to, but the memory of strength is in there, still. An easy, unconscious grace that didn’t have to be taught. “You’ve already done training work today?”

Those green eyes flash up at him again, nervous. Frightened. The boy shifts from foot to foot, then goes still. His fingers twitch before he pauses that, too. Connor watches it all with a kind of slightly repulsed interest. “Yes, sir. But… Handler Petrus said that… that if you want, you can-... can test me-”

“I don’t want,” Connor says heavily, cutting him off with a gesture. The boy’s mouth snaps shut instantly. “Not in the mood.”

There’s an expression of genuine confusion - when is a handler not in the mood? - that flits across the boy’s face. It’s a look of such comedic bafflement that Connor ends up laughing, shaking his head. He doesn’t even put his sexy, dark laugh on, but just snort-laughs naturally, before he walks over to the kid, watching him pull into himself, shoulders hunched.

“Relax, kid. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The kid’s nose wrinkles. It’s adorable. “But… all you do… is hurt us.”

Luke’s fucking technique, Connor thinks. Luke’s trainees don’t forget anything he’s taught them, to be sure, but they never quite learn how to act like they’re in love with it, either. Connor can turn out a trainee who genuinely thinks he’s in love. Luke turns out trainees who hate everything they can’t stop themselves from doing.

Some perspectives are into that, he supposes. Connor thinks he’d rather have the act.

“Yeah, well, I’m not going to do that today. Come on,” Connor says, and his voice gentles a little. “I’ve got plenty to keep myself busy with. Why don’t you lay down on the mat and get some sleep while I work?” He puts a hand on the boy’s shoulder, feeling him trembling slightly through the thin cloth of his white trainee t-shirt. The boy moves when he’s nudged, carefully stepping across the room, tense as a wire about to snap.

“Are you-... are you going to, to, to, to, um-” The boy flinches back from an expected punishment when he stammers. "Silence is, is better than stammering, try again, silence is better than-... try again." The kid mutters to himself, takes a deep breath, tries again. "Are you... going to... give me a pill?"

Connor pulls his hand back, frowning. Now it’s his turn to look confused.

What the fuck is even going on with this kid?

“Nah. I don't even keep them in my training room. No worries, kid.” He pitches his voice low, soothing, reassuring. “The only thing I intend to do is finish up some papers, go take a smoke break outside, and then come back and get set up for my next rounds at seven before I head out. This is a real break. Okay? I’m not even interested in whatever it is Handler Petrus is doing with you. I just want to do my job.”

The kid looks at him. He’s almost always seen him drugged out of his gourd, barely able to focus on anything not right in front of his face. Right now, though, there’s a sense that the boy is considering his words, actually able to think about them. “Yes, sir. I can-... I, I can lay down?” 

 “Yeah, go for it.” Connor waves his hand again, moving back to his desk.

“Thank you, sir.” The kid’s gratitude is pathetic. Connor has to give Luke that, he does know how to make a trainee say thank you for just about anything. Connor’s method takes more work to get to that than Luke’s.

But Connor doesn’t have to drug his trainees to do it. And he doesn’t work with kids.

Shit. Maybe I am going to wind up with a conscience. Handlers get fired over that.

Or worse.

After a pause, watching him go, the kid kneels down, then lays down on his stomach, making as much contact with the heated mat as he can. There’s a soft exhale, something almost like contentment. Connor watches those tensed, probably painful muscles slowly relax. His bare feet start to rub against each other, back and forth, back and forth.

There’s a blanket nearby, and the boy hesitantly grabs at it, pulls it over himself. Breathes out, eyes fluttering shut as warmth surrounds him utterly for what’s probably the first time in a while. Or at least warmth that doesn’t come with certain conditions.

Connor’s eyes trace the line of the boy’s jaw - there’s a bruise there, too, like a thumb pressed too hard into delicate skin. Coppery eyelashes lay flat, long enough to just brush his cheek. His hair falls over his forehead and eyes.

It’s like looking at a fucking painting.

“Jesus, you’re pretty as hell, aren’t you?”

The boy’s eyebrows furrow, briefly, but he doesn’t open his eyes or pull back from the mat. He curls up tighter under the blanket, disappearing up to his chin.

Connor turns back to his work, filling out a questionnaire. He’s still working at it when he hears, just barely, the boy’s soft reply to his question.

“I, I, I wish I wasn’t.”

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

[siriusmydeer]

ron weasley smut alphabet

ron weasley x fem!reader

warnings: um this is all smut

a/n: i started at 4:45pm let’s see how long it takes. *update: it is now 10:20pm, my god*

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

he takes a bath with you, with small kisses. then after when you’re done he gets snacks for the both of you. you lay your head on his chest as he praises you.

“up, up darling.” he coerces you from your laying position on his four poster bed. “m’gonna make you feel all nice and clean, yeah?”

the you most you could give him was a small nod, all fucked out from previous rounds, hours prior. your body covered in splotches of red and purple. your hair all messy and your whole body flushed with a sheer layer of sweat.

he dips both of your bodies into the bath, cleaning up your body. “you’re so good f’me, dove.”

he continued to praise you as he dryed you off with a towel and dressed you in a pair of his navy boxer shorts and his freshly clean cotton-quidditch jersey.

he layed you on the clean sheets that had changed themselves due to his manipulation of magic. he rummaged around his trunk trying to find your favourite snacks and one of your favourite muggle films to put on.

“last i went to hogsmeade ‘ve got your favourites.” he mumbled grabbing the snacks sprawling them out at the foot of the bed crawling over to your worn figure and immediately curling your body into his side.

his hand found the root of your hair massaging his way down your hair playing with your tresses. “i love you, my darling.”

“so so good, all f’me.” he praised.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

UR MF BOOTY. ron is an ass man if u try and tell me differently bitch i’ll take u outside and tell u a lil SUM. yes ron appreciates your whole body, i mean molly raised him with a LIL respect but the thought of him just laying his head on your bum while your watching a movie and he’s just caressing it just makes his heart go 💞

“ronald, you know the point of watching a movie together is too actually view the movie together. not just smoosh your face into your girlfriends arse.” you said with faux-anger lacing your tone.

you were laying on your stomach in the room of requirement, the room giving you the ability to invision anything you like; a king sized bed with a plush white comforter and a massive tv fit to showcase any movie of your desire.

ron had some other priorities consisting of stripping off your sleep shorts and laying his cheek on your bum tracing the small stretch marks that glittered your sides. he thought you were utterly perfect and just appreciating and kissing your body was one immaculate way of showing it.

“m’simply just appreciating my beautiful girlfriend.” he teased, squeezing your bum. his eyebrows then furrowing. “and stop calling me ronald! merlin woman, you know how to drive a guy mad!”

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

whewwww the thiught of him cumming inside of your fertile velvet walls, the THOUGHT OF IT makes him hard. that man loves his creampies🙄

“m’gonna cum y/n.” he groaned, his calloused hands squeezing at your hips. your trembling fingers gripped at the sheets below you, arching your back more for him.

“s-sir, cum inside me, please.” you pleaded to the red head, moaning as he prodded at your cervix.

at your word, he let go; the ropes of his seed exploding inside of you, his vision starry and his body quivering. you whimpered at the feeling of him pull out of you; clenching around nothing and feeling desperate for his warmth again.

you felt his two dominant fingers push back inside of your clenching cunt, he spoke to you as he arched your back till your stomach hit the plush of the mattress.

“gotta keep you full of m’babies, understand?”

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

oh my god breeding kink, THE THOUGHT OF YOU FERTILE AND POSSIBLY GETTING PREGNANT IS LITERALLY HIS BIGGEST KINK LIKE ITS SO HOT TO HiM.

your back was arched against the plaid comforter covering the mattress below you, you moaned into the air coarse of tension and arousal as you let your release wash over your body.

the feeling of calmness and euphoria settled into your nerves as your orgasam came to an end, your boyfriend close behind.

soon enough you felt your rons cum shoot inside of your empty-feeling cunt, just waiting for him to breed you. he waited a moment before shoving his fingers inside of your stuffed pussy.

you whined at the feeling of overstimulation as his fingers got comfortable inside your clenching pussy. “aw baby y’gonna cry? better take my fingers like a good girl or m’gonna spank you.” he obeyed you as your trembling arm made its way to his arm, feeling pins and needles mixed with slight pleasure on your clit.

“you’re my cumdump, yeah? gotta make sure all m’babies stay in there. none go to waste.”

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

i feel like you taught him everything. i mean who else has he dated either it was lavender or nobody. so i feel like the both of you learned together and yk he got good FAST 💯

you were seated atop of his slack-clad thighs, slightly squirminn and circling your lace covered cunt over his clothed cock. you moved your lips towards his jugular, his adam’s apple bobbing at the feeling of your smooth lips dancing over the column of his neck.

“y/n.” he stated in hesitation, encasing his pale hands between your cheeks and bringing your face towards his.

“m’not sure.” he mumbled, deaf to your ears.

“what?” your tone lingered in the air confused at what he murmured, you lovingly carded your fingers into his bright red hair pulling at the strands.

you wanted him to feel comfortable in whatever he had to confess, so you waited patiently until he cleared his throat; a light crimson coating his cheeks as he diverted his eyes while he spoke to you.

“m’not sure- ‘ve never- never... y’know?” he said embarassed, his hands dropping from your face and into his lap. he looked in the direction of his lap as-well until your forefinger snuck under his freckled chin diverting his gaze into yours.

“no need to be embarrassed, love. we can- we can learn together?” you proposed to him, both of you quite inexperienced when it came to sexual instances.

“you’re sure?” he wanted to double check with you, before continuing both of your acts.

“positive.”

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

definitely riding or doggy. riding because he just adores watching you bounce on his cock AND he can grab your tits AND he can see your face AND he can watch your squirm; it’s like an all in one. and doggy bc he can push your face into the mattress and just watch your back arch perfectly. when he’s feeling particularly rough, he can just grip the root of your hair and pull to his hearts desire while smacking your ass. i’m mumbling now.

you were stat atop of the red heads cock as you feveroushly bounced close to your release, his hands darting towards your tits in a firm grip feeling your nipples harden in his palms.

his one hand drifting to your waist to encourage grinding movements while the other gripped the column of your throat feeling your smooth adam’s apple bob beneath his palm.

“you look angelic on top of me, angel.” he praised, following a groan as his cock twitched inside of you.

“daddy- please, can i cum? please let me cum.” you pleaded, almost out of breath from all of the movements you had been continuously making seated on top of him.

“go on darling— cum.” he started, taking a moment to groan as his own orgasam quickly approached him too. your body almost going limp, relying on his two hands gripping the sides of your waist to continue the grinding movements as his own seed shot inside your velvet walls. your moan high pitched as his low-groan in sync.

your body slipped off of his cock, and resting on top of his freckled pectorals attempting to catch your breath.

“my sweet girl, always so good f’me.”

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

i feel like he has his moments where he accidentally tickles you, or he might crack a joke or maybe an accidental head butt. other than that i feel like he’d be completely serious almost like he’s a diff person in bed.

he was moving at an unfathomable pace, his chuck buried into your cunt. the side of his face sunken into the column of your neck feeling his groans vibrate against your soft skin.

“fuck.” he groaned into you, as your arched your back into his clenched torso feeling his muscles rub against your bare skin. you released a moan in pleasure as his cock prodded at the beginning of your cervix.

his pace started to falter as he slurred into the shell of your ear, “want you to make a mess all over me, —my cumslut.”

he groaned again, as you released yourself all over his cock and throughly coating it.

you were drenched, this got him to his orgasam faster. “my messy little slut.”

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

question of the day: does the carpet match the drapes. i think yes. i think he’s shaven but not cleanly shaven like he doesn’t fully shave there’s still SOME hair there.

manz could not give less of a fuck if you just shave or if u havent shaven for a literal month he would fuck/go down on you at ANY time.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

at first i think he struggled because he didn’t really know how to make it special but his way of showing intimacy during the do is prasing you with small kisses and just very slow and passionate. 

“beautiful, angel.” he murmured into the skin of your arched torso, moving his lips up as he continued with his praise and wet kisses.

“you’re so ethereal, my y/n. so beautifully layed out for me like this.” this time, he whispered into the skin of your breast bone suckling then leaving a small mark, before pressing a small kiss to it and moving up to to your throat.

“all to myself, my darling girl.” pressing small kisses under the shell of your ear.

“glowing like an angel.” this time the mumble of praise was against the skin of your inner thigh, sending a vibration into your skin.

“all mine. forever ‘n ever.”

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

either he does it to much or literally not at all. because he would much prefer your hands or mouth to his, he just feels like you know his body so much better.

“fuck— y/n.” he stuttered out with a groan. the sight of you on your knees for him, your hand wrapped around the girth of his cock and the other keeping yourself steady by holding his clenched thigh made his thoughts run wild.

“you’re so s-sexy— on your knees for me. just like that, fuck.” he moaned, head falling back jaw going slack in pleasure.

“knowing my weak spots so well.” he continued, precum leaking from his tip and his cock begging for a release.

you sped your pace, his prick spurting out his cum all over the hard would floor of his dormitory.

“ahh- fuck.” he groaned finishing his high.

“knowing my weak spots so utterly well, my darling. you deserve a reward, yeah?”

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

two words: size. kink.

that man has a literal FETISH at the fact he could throw you around at his will.

“would you look at that, dear?” his voice hoarse, and his eyes diverting to the bottom of your belly.

an imprint of his cock moving in and out of your pussy. his pupils blew with lust barely seeing his blue iris, grabbing both of your cheeks in his large hand moving your gaze to where he was erratically moving in and out of you.

he snatched your palm pressing it to yourself so you could feel him moving in and out of your cervix.

your back arched into him, a moan vibrations into his chest feeling so much full and so much smaller than his large body due to training from quidditch.

“it’s like ‘ve claimed you. all to myself.”

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

ronald billius weasley is a voyer at heart. so his favourite location would be the gryffindor common room couch right by the fire.

“shh— y’know i love your noises but if someone gets down here we’re going to be caught. understand?” his hand craining over your mouth and looking into your swirling irises making sure you understood.

both of his rings looped over your fingers as his fingers thrusted in and out of you. you bit your lip a slight vermillion covering the bottom of your lip and a metallic taste on the tip of your tongue as you tried to hold back your moans.

your eyes proceeding to roll back to your head and your own head falling back in his grasp as he brought you closer to your orgasam and still attempting to be quiet in the depths of the night, on the ruby couch.

the fire being the only light source, his hands easily finding their way to your cunt and hitting your g-spot with his fingers.

“ron— fuck!” your voice muffled by his hand still covering your mouth.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

when u touch him a specific way. ron isn’t an idiot and he can decipher when you’re innocently touching him and when your touching him that’s gonna lead to something else.

in the middle of the great hall, dinner time. ron normally would’ve been stuffing his face in delight; instead your hand was steadily gripping his upper thigh as he attempted to eat to distract his mind from the hard on growing from your touch.

“y/n.” he lowly growled in your direction. “yes?”you turned in his direction, seeing his crimson face. you bat your eyelashes at him feigning innocence.

he moved his face closer to yours, touching the shell of your ear with his slightly chapped lips.

“you better prepare that pretty pussy of yours to not walk for a month after i’m done with you, brat.”

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

during sex i feel like he wouldn’t want anyone else to see you, like you’re for his eyes only. like your his prized possession that he has all to himself and he definitely doesn’t wanna share, so i feel like he wouldn’t be into threesomes or anything.

“c’mon ickle ronniekins, you know they always say ‘sharing is caring.’ and i’m personally offended.” fred teased his little brother on his sex life with girlfriend after finding out ron had lost his virginity and wasn’t their “ickle ronniekins anymore”.

“oi, sharing is caring i mean if fred can then so can i.” george added, both the twins were simply just trying to rile ron up and get on his nerves.

they had no interest in having sex with his girlfriend but today they were feeling particularly annoying and wanted to see how far they could push him till he had a tantrum.

“but she did pick me and not you two sod’s, right?” ron quipped.

“so i don’t believe she’s particularly interested in any other person besides me, and i don’t share.”

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

ron would literally eat pussy everyday if he wanted to, and HE DOES. literally hours he could spend under your skirt it’s like HEAVEN TO HIM.

“sir! so sore, m’so sore.” you whimpered as he continued to swipe his tongue through your glistenening folds and around your cunt.

this has been your third time of the night cumming on his tongue, and he wouldn’t stop until you atleast did four.

your ankles were locked behind his head, both of his hands squeezing at the sides of your thighs; his rings and kneading of the flesh guaranteed to leave marks.

“m’gonna cum— please can i—“ you stuttered out trying to have atleast one coherent thought.

“go on angel, wanna feel you on my tongue.”

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

ron is fast but ron is passionate, i feel like if it was rough and fast it would just feel too rushed and he doesn’t want that so he has a fast pace but it’s also really passionate in the way he’s lovin u up.

“bunny— make me feel so good.” he crooned into your ear, feeling his breath on your neck.

he was thrusting in and out of you, well on your way to your third orgasam of the night. after switching positions and paces this one finally felt perfect.

one hand wrapped around your lower back and his other forearm knealt by the side of your face. your legs were locked around his lower back and your hands interlocked around his neck, previously scratching down his back feeling the muscles clench as your nails ran down; he was guaranteed to be teased when changing into his quidditch uniform tommorow.

his pace was fast moving quickly, but prasing your every move and showering your body in kisses.

he never deferred from making you feel any less than loved, even when being degraded or punished you knew he would shower you in praise and food. loving you in your most vulnerable state.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

i don’t think he really likes them? he doesn’t really hav enough time to do what he wants with you. like i don’t think he would want a quick fuck in a class room bc he was horny, he would just take you to his dorm for the rest of the day.

“so, so aroused you couldn’t even wait till after dinner.” you pouted at his standing figure, while you were seated on the bed spreading your legs for his use.

“and i’m the desperate slut, daddy? don’t you think that’s a bit hypocritical.” you whined at him, batting your eyelashes.

“bunny, you better watch your tone.” his slacks falling to the ground, “i’ll take you over my knee right now.”

“you gonna spank me?” whimpering, trying to push him limits.

“if you keep acting like a little brat, i will.” he said while approaching your spread body.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

as long as your comfortable with it, i feel like he would be okay with it. i mean it is your pleasure that matters most to him at the end of the day.

“and you’re sure?” he confirmed, holding the silk blindfold in between his trembling fingers. He was nervous about trying something where you couldn’t see what he was doing.

you nodded to him, looking into his blue irises full of certainty. “hundred percent. if something happens i’ll call safeword.” you assured him grabbing his hand bringing it towards your face.

“and that is?”

“red.”

“good, good.” he murmured the last word tying it around your eyes, ridding you of sight. you settled on your back against the plaid comforter hugging the mattress.

“ready?”

“ready.” you stated, feeling the cool sensation of ice glide against your stomach.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

ATLEAST FOUR. he plays quidditch. he’s sexy. he’s ron. HE can last ATLEAST four rounds.

“daddy— no more, s-so sore.” you begged as he hovered over you, his finger tips dancing on your clit. you hissed, at the feeling of pins and needles over your over sensitive cunt.

“but weren’t you begging earlier? you wanted to be a little brat and just wanted to be full? what happen to that messy girl?” he taunted, looking down at your sqriming body.

you whined as he continued to draw figure eights on your clit, already stimulating you to the point of another orgasam.

“mhm, daddy, fuck!” you whimpered, moans bubbling from your throat as you felt a burning sensation starting to tremble in your stomach

“daddy!”

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

i feel like when he is punishing you he would use a vibrator on you but tie you up and edge and overstimulate you till you learned your lesson. other than that i don’t think so because he likes teasing you himself rather than using something else.

the vibrations of a small device pressing directly on your small, overstimulated puffy, bundle of nerves and pushed out two orgasams of you already.

“daddy! no more— please! m’sorry, m’so so sorry!” you whined as your legs subconsciously shook and quivered in the grasp of the ropes around your body.

he turned up the speed, increasing your whimpers. “but, you my brat, were a bad girl. who gave you permission to flirt with harry like that?” he said completely turning off the device and waiting a few seconds before turning it up to maximum speed.

you jumped up at the reoccurring vibrations. “nobody, nobody! i jus’ wanted your attention, daddy! only you.” you slurred, your face burying into the mattress and your legs fought against your restraints.

“well all you had to do was ask, dove. now this is what happens when you’re bad.” he smirked at your figure turned away from him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

every opportunity he has, he teases. he likes to give and take away your pleasure any time he wants just because he can. and he loves seeing you squirm for him.

he had edged you five times, you were a brat, like always but you thought he atleast would’ve given into your whining and begs by now.

“sir! please, ‘ve been a good girl. i swear it!” you said frantically as your legs squirmed due to his manipulation.

“but good girls aren’t brats, are they?” he questioned to you, you looked at him on your forearms and your quivering legs in his grasp.

“but m’sorry, please sir!”

he thought for a moment, should he give in? but seeing you so vulnerable made him want to edge you longer just to see you beg for his touch.

“hmm, baby. no” he slurred through a hoarse tone, continuing to deny your orgasams.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

it’s mainly grunts and moans, with a bit of praise mixed with degrations.

“ahh fuck— angel.” he grunted, steadying a pace into your pussy. “my good little girl, letting me use her cunt.”

“aren’t you my pretty little cumdump?” his hand grasping the column of your throat making you look at him.

you nodded at him gasping as we squeezing and continued thrusting into him.

“daddy!” you gasped as he bumped your cervix with his cock that was begging for release.

he moaned at the name, continuing his praise mixed with degrations. “my messy little cumslut— isn’t what you are?” his tone firm as he grasped your cheek in his one hand making your lips in a pout.

“yes, daddy.”

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

he would take polaroids of you during sex.

“my pretty little pussy.” he murmured snapping a polaroid of his cum leaking out of you.

“such a messy girl.” he said while fanning out the picture and looking at your limp, worn-out and flush body.

“ron, make sure you put it with the other ones- fuck!” you breathed out to him until you felt his fingers dig into the the walls of your pussy.

“gotta make sure it all stays in there, dove.”

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

i’d give him like 7-8 hard? BUT HES THICK

your lips were hollowed around his girth, sucking and licking his tip in your mouth.

he moaned at the feeling of your glossy lips around his prick sucking to the base cock.

“fuck— angel. m’gonna—“ he slurred out in euphoria trying to manage a coherent sentence when all he could think about how beautiful you looked with your lips hollowed around his cock and tears mixed with mascara running down the apples of your cheeks.

you fastened your pace around his cock, his tip bumping against your reflex causing a small gag to erupt from your throat. you payed no mind to it continuing to breath from your nose until he shot his seed pouring down your throat.

“fuck me, y/n.”

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

i feel like it all depends on you? like he’s a horny teenage boy but nothing really gets him going like you do tbh. like if you ever did something sexy or something that could be innocent but has his mind running wild then yes but other than that it’s all on your sex drive.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

i feel like after the both of you are finished eating he kisses the top of your head and the both of you fall asleep together in eachothers arms.

“my beautiful angel. always doing so well f’me.” he murmured against your hair, gripping the remote with one hand switching off the movie as your eyelids began to slowly droop down. your eyelashes dusting against the apples of your cheeks; you were so fucked out, so vulnerable, so beautiful.

he pushed the rest of the snacks onto the floor, trying to be quiet and not disturb your peace. knowing that he, or rather you would pick up off the floor.

he settled himself on the pillows stroking your hair, his own eyes dropping down as his one hand rubbed your back and the other massaging the root of your hair.

“i love you, my sweets.” he whispered before falling asleep.

taglist: @mushroomfleur @famdomhideout

[harrysweasleys]

show and tell // g.w

summary: the four times george shows you he loves you before he says it for the first time.

warnings: injury, blood, broken bones, sickness, mentions of nudity and food

word count: 5k

a/n: this was so much fun to write!! i hope you all enjoy :) x

———————————————————————

one

It was mid-march and the spring sunshine felt as if it were everlasting. From the moment you woke up, to the late evening, the golden rays illuminated the fields around the Burrow and brought a sense of warmth and comfort. As if you were away from the rest of the world, practically untouched by civilization.

It was the epitome of peaceful.

Even in the peak of the afternoon, while Molly and Arthur bustled about the house, and while the gaggle of Weasley children decided to take advantage of the weather and challenge one another to a playful Quidditch game.

You weren’t really sure why they chose to call it playful, per say. They were all awfully competitive. Last week, Ginny was knocked off of her broom and into the pond. Luckily, she sustained no injuries, but it was still a rather intense sight. About a month back, Bill had decided to join, and had to use his wand to repair a black eye.

Safe to say, as you sat on a small lounge chair and watched over, that you were nervous. Your eyes felt as if they were locked on George’s every move. That if you looked away, he’d end up toppling to the ground in a mess of long limbs and ginger hair.

“You sure you don’t want to join?” Ginny called down to you, hovering a few feet away on her rather mangled broom that she most likely used in childhood before she got her much nicer one for the Gryffindor team.

You shook your head, squinting as you looked up, “I’ll pass. I’m much better as a spectator.”

She shrugged, her braid flipping over her shoulder as she took off back towards the make-shift pitch.

The game went as it always did — the same teams, the same keepers, the same chasers and beaters, and of course, Harry and Ginny as rival seekers. Nothing was really new there.

George looked rather at ease on his broom. It was a sight you loved to see. You knew that work stressed him out, that he was always trying to improve every aspect of his business and it was one of the things that swirled in his mind constantly. But seeing him here, in what appeared to be his element, brought a smile to your face.

Unfortunately, that smile was wiped off rather quickly when he collided with Ginny not even five minutes into the match. She ended up collecting her wits and balance, staying up in the air. George, however, did not.

Luckily for him, he was only a few feet off the ground. But the sickening crunch that he made when he landed flat on his face was the furthest thing from “lucky” that you could think of.

You shot up off of your chair in a panicked heartbeat, rushing over to where his body lay limp on the ground. You could feel your body grow warm in worry.

“George!” you crouched next to him and placed one of your hands on his forearm, “Georgie, are you okay?”

He let out a groan, rolling over onto his back. A stream of blood rushed down from his nose, which already looked off coloured and crooked. Broken, no doubt.

“Is it bad?” he asked, his eyes squinted shut.

You winced, trying to avoid looking at the damage on his face, “I’m really not the person to ask.”

He began to sit up, groaning a bit as he did so, and slowly opened his eyes. He brought one of his hands — one that was already covered in a mixture of dirt and sweat — and brought it to his face, wiping it across his mouth and chin.

As he pulled it away and spotted the crimson liquid on his fingertips, he let out a mutter of a curse.

“I’m bowing out of the match,” he called up to his siblings, all hovering nearby to see if he was alright, before pointing at his face, “I’m gonna go clean this up.”

His hair was matted down to his head from sweat, as well as his clothes practically clinging to his body, but you wasted no time in grabbing on to him to hoist him up. You weren’t overly familiar with injuries, since you were in no means a Healer, but you’d be damned if you didn’t try to help.

“Let’s get you to the washroom,” you held his arm, leading him into the house and guiding him since his head was tilted back, pinching his nose to prevent any more bleeding.

On the way into the tiny washroom, you grabbed your wand that was sitting on the dining room table. Hermione had taught you the spell for repairing a broken nose, and though you’ve never performed it before, you had to give it a shot.

“I should be alright,” he muttered with his hand still pinched on his nose, his other free hand rummaging across the cluttered countertop to try and find the tissues.

You gently whacked his hand away, “Stop. Let me help.”

You began guiding him over to the edge of the countertop, bringing him closer until yourself pinned right between his body and the sink. So, you gave him a little shove, hopped up onto the cold tile, and brought him close. His body stood between your legs, your feet immediately wrapping around his torso so that he could stand still and close, enough so that you could try your best to fix the damage from his fall.

“If I wasn’t bleeding, I’d rather enjoy this position,” you could hear the handsome smirk in his voice, even as you grabbed a handful of tissues and placed them under the running water of the sink.

“Oh, shove it,” you chuckled, taking one of the wet tissues and turning to face him. He was still pinching his nose, but he was now facing you.

You began to dab at his chin, glad that the blood hadn’t had time to dry so it was rather easy to wipe off. He didn’t wince, but then again, you imagined a majority of the pain was probably in his nose. George had a high tolerance for pain, which was something that was probably built up after years of testing products on himself. Especially those damn nosebleed nougats.

“Oh, wait, I’m an idiot,” you scoffed, pressing the tissue to his face with one hand as you reached for your wand with the other, “Let me fix your nose first.”

His eyes widened at the sight of the wand in your hand, and he shuffled back a few inches, “Merlin, are you sure? You’ve never fixed a nose before.”

You tossed the used tissue into the bin before grabbing another one, this time holding it right against his nostrils, “Just let me do this. It’s one spell, how hard can it be?”

The hesitation flashed through his eyes before he slowly nodded his head, “Fine, fine, I trust you.”

Through the nervous beating of your heart, you managed to smile. Those three words caused all of your unease to drift away, your focus landing solely on the one word you had to mutter.

He took a step back, this time in confidence.

Instead of making the poor man wait in pain while you went over the consequences in your head, you lifted your wand and spoke, “Episkey.”

The crunch was quiet, but George’s eyes shot open and he bit down on his lower lip, a muffled shout of pain getting stuck in his throat as one of his hands grabbed your thigh, giving it a squeeze that was bound to leave a bruise.

“Oh, Merlin, are you okay?” you asked, tossing your wand aside and placing your hands on either side of his face. His cheeks were awfully warm despite how pale they had just become, and you felt the tenseness of his muscles as he stepped back between your open legs. His grip on your thigh didn’t lighten up, and you felt a surge of guilt bubble up into your belly.

“Georgie?” you asked more softly this time, one of your hands running through his sticky hair, “Did I make it worse?”

He shook his head, not exactly speaking, but giving you the answer you needed, “‘s fine.”

You gave a small pout, taking your hands away from him to avoid causing overstimulation. Though, as soon as your hands left his skin, he put his own hands on yours and guided them back up into his hair.

You gave him a puzzled look as you began to run your fingers along his scalp again, but he quickly answered your silent question, “Feels nice.”

His smirk returned to his lips and you rolled your eyes, immediately realizing you fell into his trap, “Oh, you little git. You’re fine, aren’t you?”

His laughter echoed in the small bathroom and managed to ease all of the worry and panic that was swarming through your mind, “No, it does hurt, but it’s not that bad. I do really like you playing nurse though, love. I should fall off my broom more often, yeah?”

You tossed a tissue at him, your own laughter bubbling in your chest, “Don’t you dare think about it, Weasley.”

“C’mon, love,” he grinned, bringing his face closer to yours, only to have you push him away.

“We are cleaning up the mess that is your face before you kiss me,” you smirked, holding up another tissue. He rolled his eyes and let out a groan, but he let you continue dabbing at his skin until he was all cleaned up. His nose was left with some light bruising, but you barely even focused on that after his little painful performance he decided to put on.

It really was never a dull moment.

———————————————————————

two

George’s birthday came around way too quickly for your liking. You remembered New Years Eve as clearly as if it were yesterday, and now here you were, on April the first, knocking loudly at his door at nearly eight thirty in the morning.

It was still early in the day — you guys would be headed to the burrow for dinner with his family in the late afternoon — but you decided to pay him a little surprise and pop by his flat with a few gifts and sweets in the morning before being whisked away. You always enjoyed the private moments between the two of you, and this was no different.

His face appeared in the doorway mere seconds later, his hair sticking up in countless spots, and his baggy jammies hanging loosely around his body. His cheeks were flushed pink at the sight of you standing there; a bag of gifts in one hand and a plate with a tiny cupcake in the other, one little candle on the top with a flame that you had enchanted not to burn out until he made his wish.

“Happy birthday!” you grinned, flashing him your best smile despite the urge to laugh at his disheveled appearance. He seemed to have just gotten out of bed. You had spent the night with George before, usually if he had the next day off and the two of you could laze around in the morning, and there was one conclusion you could make from it.

George was not a morning person.

However, through his sleepy state, he shot you a bright smile, “Look at you, coming by to be my gift.”

You rolled your eyes as he moved aside, letting you walk into his flat, “I’m not the gift. But I do come bearing some.” You placed the bag on the floor and stuck out the plate, handing him the cupcake. His smile never faded as he took it from you, holding it in one hand and the other went to his chin, pretending to ponder.

“What are you doing?” you asked, eyes scanning over his furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. He looked deep in thought.

“Gotta make a wish, right?” he replied, “Though, you’re all I could ever wish for and you’re right here.”

You felt an eruption of fluttering in your chest at his sweet words — he really was quite the flirt — but you brushed it aside and removed your coat, placing it on the hook behind you before turning back to him, “Make your wish, you idiot.”

He smirked, shooting you a cheeky wink before he closed his eyes and blew on the candle, the little flame dying down quickly.

“See?” you chuckled, now removing your shoes so you could properly enter the flat, “Was that so hard?”

He stuck out his tongue, one of his fingers dipping into the icing of the cupcake. You were too busy focusing on carrying the bag of gifts, however, that you hadn’t noticed his icing covered finger reaching in your direction. So, as you turned back to face him, it smeared across your cheek.

“That’s what you get for being mean on my birthday,” he raised an eyebrow, proceeding to walk over to the couch in the living room, your own footsteps following closely behind him. The icing was sticky against your skin, but you were too busy trying to get even to even bother wiping it off.

You finally caught up to him, grabbing the cupcake out of his grasp and holding it away from him, scooping up some of the icing and smearing it across his lips. 

He looked quite amused, nodding his head slowly as he started licking his lips, “Nice try, love.”

“Oi, just shut up and sit down,” you scoffed, grabbing a tissue from the end table and wiping the icing off of your face, tossing the tissue in the bin before reaching over and grabbing a box out of the bag, “Now. Let me spoil you, yeah?”

You sat next to him on the couch and placed the box in his lap.

He leaned over and pressed his lips against your cheek, placing a delicate kiss before pulling away, “You already spoil me enough just being with me.”

You shook your head and let out a laugh, motioning your head in the direction of the box once again, before he finally proceeded to open it.

It didn’t take long for him to go through his gifts. Five boxes later, and he now had a few new things for around the house. Not that he needed appliances, really. He was a wizard. But he had mentioned to you a few times that he was starting to attempt doing a few things the “muggle way.”

“This is all brilliant,” he grinned, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into his side, “Thank you, love.”

You leaned up and pressed a light kiss on his jawline, not missing the way his body shivered at your touch. It brought you a sense of pride, honestly, the fact that you were able to have this affect on him.

“However, there is one more gift to open,” he said, sitting up from his spot on the couch so quickly it nearly knocked you backwards.

“There is?” you asked, peering around the flat to see if there was another parcel. Maybe Fred had stopped by to give his twin a gift before the party at the Burrow.

“Sit right here,” he held up one finger before bolting into the bedroom, disappearing from view for a few moments. Maybe his parents had dropped something off?

He came back into the living room, a box in his hands with big letters on the side that read Y/N. You furrowed your eyebrows as he placed it in your lap, a pleased grin on his face.

“What the bloody hell is this?” you asked, not even masking your confusion, “It’s your birthday, in case you’ve forgotten.”

He nodded, the smirk still on his lips, “Why, yes, I haven’t forgotten. But I figured for my birthday, what I want to do is spoil my girl.”

You shook your head, letting your head fall back onto the couch cushion — the couch that had once belonged to his brother Bill before he moved in with Fleur — and let out a laugh, “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Just open it,” he placed a kiss on your temple, your heart in your chest feeling like it was about to burst.

You let out a breathy laugh and began to unwrap the box, opening it up to reveal a lumpy knitted sweater, the first letter of your name written out in the centre of it. It was perfect. Homely, and clearly made with love. You knew Molly knitted these for her children every year, but you didn’t expect to get one so soon, let alone ever.

“Oh, George. Your mum made me one?” you asked, voice filled with awe as you picked up the jumper, holding it against your chest as if you were hugging it. This honestly meant more to you than you could express.

“No,” he grinned, one of his hands rubbing the back of his neck, “I actually made that. Mum taught me a few years back and I never thought it would come in handy, but here we are.”

Your eyes widened at his words, heart so full that you could barely find the words to reply. If you weren’t so shocked, you might find yourself word-vomiting a bunch of lovey dovey nonsense. But you couldn’t. You honestly couldn’t speak.

“You’re part of the family now,” he broke the silence, one of his hands finding its way into your hair and giving a small twirl, “I want you to know that.”

You felt an itchiness in the back of your throat and you knew your emotions would get the best of you, so instead of speaking up, you decided to toss your arms around his neck and hold him as close as possible, the new jumper squeezed between the two of you as if it were holding you together. Which, in a way, it was.

George really was amazing, and there was no doubt that you were starting to fall for him. But this gesture, this gift, was beyond that.

It showed you that maybe, possibly, he was the one.

———————————————————————

three

Two days after George’s birthday, which had been a long and tiring evening at the Burrow celebrating another year of Fred and George, you found yourself feeling a little under the weather.

It was most likely not from Molly’s meal assortment, but possibly from standing outside in the chilly weather to watch the fun little firework display the twins had decided to put on for themselves. Plus, you were pretty sure Charlie had shown up with a cold as well.

You had woken up with a sore throat and a stuffy nose, your head unfortunately feeling quite congested as well. As if a throbbing migraine was bubbling just below the surface.

To simply put it, you were most likely coming down with said cold.

You had woken up in a rush, immediately reaching for the tissue box to clear your sinuses, but in the process of doing so, happened to wake up the ever-so-sleepy George next to you.

His arm retracted from around your waist and he rubbed his eyes with his hand, squinting to look over at you, “Are you okay?”

His voice was heavily laced with sleep and you felt bad for waking him up, but the gross feeling of sickness was a little too overbearing for you to really worry about disrupting his sleep schedule.

“Sorry, Georgie,” you replied, holding a tissue to your nose, “I think I stood a little too close to Charlie and he passed his germs onto me.”

George’s head fell back onto his pillow, “Git.” You let out a small laugh as he shoved the blanket off of his body and onto yours, all the warmth that his body produced now gone as he got out of bed. A whine left your throat and you reached out, trying to grab his hand and pull him back down.

He tossed on a shirt and turned to face you, “Be back in a second, love. Just gotta do something.”

A pout made its way onto your lips as he left the room, his disheveled morning hair disappearing through the bedroom door. You didn’t necessarily want to pass your possible sickness onto him — you’d only end up feeling guilty and responsible — but you already missed the comfort that he brought when he laid next to you. Even though he had been gone for a total of ten seconds.

You could hear noises as he rummaged through the kitchen, but you didn’t bring yourself to get out of bed. The throbbing in your head would make it hard for you to even have proper balance. You didn’t want to make it worse.

It didn’t take long for George to return, a small tray in his hands and a smile on his lips. You sat up properly, trying to get a peek as to what he had with him.

“For you, my princess,” he gave you a quick wink, placing the tray next to you on the bed.

Your heart swelled. He had brought you breakfast. A plate filled with fruits and a cup of tea sat nearly on the tray, smelling and looking more delicious than ever. Maybe it was because of the thought and love he put into it, but you honestly couldn’t wait to dive in.

“You made me breakfast?” you asked softly, looking up at him as you moved the tray onto your lap.

“I did,” he slid back under the blankets next to you, one of his hands finding yours and giving it a light squeeze, “The tea will help soothe your throat and the vitamins in the fruits will help you feel better.”

The smile on your face was so wide, you swore it reaches your ears, “Georgie, this is so sweet.”

“Well, what can I say? I’m the best.”

You gave him a poke in the shoulder, laughing at his cockiness, “That you are. That you are.”

———————————————————————

four

Unfortunately, George had caught your cold. And he loved to complain about it. Every second he could possibly find to bring it up, he would. Not to blame you, of course, but to milk it as much as possible so that you could take care of him. 

Not that you could do much, really, since you were still nursing your own annoying sickness. But you did try to help as much as you could. You’d made a soup, he’d make the tea. It was a compromise that helped the both of you.

However, one afternoon, when the two of you started to feel better, George had decided to take matters into his own hands and bring a little life back to the flat. 

“Dance with me,” he spoke out of the blue, coming up to you on the couch where you were currently quite content reading away.

“What?” you placed your bookmark in your page, placing the book onto the cushion next to you, “Now?”

He nodded, picking his wand up off of the end table and pointing it in the direction of the little radio by the window. An old tune — one that sounded a lot like the song that played at the Yule Ball, funnily enough — started playing throughout the room.

You shook your head, a small laugh leaving your lips as you placed your hand in his, “Since when are you a dancer, George Weasley?”

“For you, always,” he smirked, leading you to the open area of the room, one of his hands immediately finding your lower back. You felt your chest grow fluttery at his touch, every previous thought leaving your body as you melted into him.

Your hand linked in his, the other one resting against his shoulder. His eyes found yours and he gave you a genuine smile. Nothing cocky or teasing. Just a real, fond smile. 

“What’s this for, then?” you found your voice, the two of you moving in slow circles around the small space.

It wasn’t much, and neither of you were good at it, but it was romantic. You hadn’t even noticed that George had used his wand to light a few candles, the light of the flames dancing against the walls. 

“What?” he asked with a slight upturn of his chin, “Can’t a bloke just dance with his girl?”

You ignored the feeling of your heart swelling and gave him a grin, “Yes, actually. I think he can.”

The music was soft, but it was enough to really set the mood. As if you were a princess dancing with her prince, the world disappearing around the both of you and leaving you alone to dance under the moonlight. Or, really, the two of you alone in a small London flat. But a girl can dream, right?

George’s chest was warm as you pressed your forehead against it, revelling in this feeling of privacy and intimacy. You felt untouchable. 

“You’re really special, you know that?” his voice was soft, mouth close to your ear as he mumbled the words. 

You pulled away just enough to look up at him. There was something in his eyes — love, pride, admiration, or something similar — and you really did feel like you were all he could see. Like he had eyes only for you. 

“Could say the same about you,” your voice matched his in softness, eyes darting back and forth between his eyes and his lips. 

He beat you to the action, though, as he tilted his head down and closed the space between the two of you, warm lips pressed softly against yours. A million different feelings bubbled in the pit of your belly and you swore you would crack under the heavy blissful peace that soared through you. 

You loved him. 

There was no way you could deny it. 

Especially as the two of you stood there; lips moulded together as if they were meant to be, your bodies pressed against one another, and an unspoken mutual feeling of adoration passing between you two. 

You really did love him. And you hoped he loved you back. 

———————————————————————

one

The water of the bath was awfully warm. Perfect to contrast the gloomy grey skies and heavy raindrops that came down loudly against the window. For nearly mid-April, the weather was still awfully dreary. 

George’s fingers traced up and down your arms, causing goosebumps to rise in their wake despite the warmth of the bath water. It was warm enough to cause light steam to build on the mirror, and for the two glasses on the edge of the tub to build condensation, but not warm enough to deter your body’s natural reaction to George. 

Your head was resting against his chest, one of his hands against your skin and the other in your wet hair — which much to your dismay, was let down from the ponytail in which it was previously in. George’s orders, of course. 

“You smell nice,” he mumbled, his head leaned back against the tub, his own hair sticking up in spikes after he dipped his head under water, “So do I, actually.”

“It’s the soap, you goon,” you giggled, “That’s what soap does.”

“Goon?” he lifted his head, causing you to turn around and face him, your own body still resting against his, the feeling of his bare skin against yours causing a warmth to spread in your chest. 

“You’re a cute goon, though,” you winked, lifting one of your hands to flatten down his hair, “So it’s fine.”

He nodded, “Right. You’re lucky I love you.”

Not only did it feel like time stood still, but it felt like the both of you did too. The water went silent at the lack of movement, and the eye contact between the both of you felt so prolonged that neither of you could blink. 

Did he just say what you thought he said?

You knew, undoubtedly, that you had fallen head over feels for the ginger boy in front of you. He was the perfect partner in every sense of the word, really. He was caring, he was gentle, he was exciting, and he loved you. 

“You love me?” your voice felt as if it were bound to crack. You didn’t want to move or sit up, too afraid to disturb the moment. To break the connection that had been built with those three words. 

It was as if he himself wasn’t sure he had said them, but by the light smile that graced his gorgeous freckled face, you could tell he meant it. 

“Yeah, I do,” he nodded, “I dunno why it took me so bloody long to say it. But yes, I love you.”

A weight felt like it had been lifted off of your shoulders at the confession, a wave of powerful emotions threatening to smother you in replacement. 

“I love you too,” you didn’t even hesitate to say the words as you were so utterly sure of them. 

The tips of his ears turned a light shade of pink as his smile grew, lopsided and genuine, “That’s good, then.”

It was nearly impossible to hide your pure thrill, arms finding their way around his neck in an instant. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his right back around you, holding your body against his as if he were too bloody pleased to let go. 

“I love you,” he said again, so softly you barely even registered. If you were an inch further away, you might not have even heard it. 

You placed a light kiss on the underside of his jaw, once again relishing in the pride that blossomed at his involuntary shiver, “I love you too, Georgie.”

And Godric, did you ever. 

———

[love-and-monsters]

Polyam Alien Merfolk

GN reader X M mer-alien X F mer-alien, 6,743 words

Crashed on an alien planet and taken in by a couple, this story was uh, pretty self-indulgent for me. Not sure if anyone else is going to like it but I liked writing it.

CW: mentions of being in a cult and descriptions of family death and cult behavior.

“Is it like, alive?”

The voice was soft, coming from just over your head. Something sharp prodded your side. You groaned.

A second voice came from closer to your feet. “Sounds like it’s alive.” This voice was rougher, raspier, though also higher pitched than the first voice.

“Is it hurt, then? We can’t move it if its hurt.” The sharp thing poked your side again. “What if it’s really badly injured?”

Dimly, you were aware of sunlight against your face. Most of your body was covered with your skintight flight suit, but your face was exposed, and, from the feel of it, entirely covered in sand. Actually, given the grittiness in your mouth, most of your insides were coated in sand as well. The hard rock of nausea in your gut told you that you had probably swallowed a decent amount of sand too. Your lungs felt like they’d been aggressively sandblasted. Every breath stung like needles.

“Then there’s nothing we can do and it’ll die,” the second voice said. “It doesn’t look injured. I think. I mean, I don’t know alien anatomy, but everything looks right, doesn’t it? No blood. Nothing’s sticking out weirdly.”

“Internal injuries!” the first voice insisted. “What do we do? A doctor’s not going to know what to do about this.”

The nausea that had been churning in the bottom of your stomach abruptly kicked up a notch. Apparently, your body had decided you were awake enough to retch. Automatically, you twisted onto your side, abdominal muscles heaving, and a gush of fluid poured out of your mouth.

For the next minute or so, you were thoroughly occupied by vomiting. The nasty tang of saltwater mixed with bile filled your mouth and your injured lungs screamed for air every time you heaved. Finally, you were only dry-heaving and coughing into the sand. Somewhere nearby, you could hear the soft rush of waves against shore.

Groaning, you slumped onto your back once more. Sand shifted and crunched as you moved. Your head was clear enough to start putting the pieces together, though. You remembered… a space battle. Your little fighter had been hit. It had fallen.

“Hey.” The first voice was speaking again. You turned your head toward it. “Are you feeling better now?”

The speaker was covered in mottled scales, a dark green-blue near its back and a pale whitish color on its belly. From the waist up, it was humanoid, with a fairly human-looking face, large, fan-like fins along the back of its head and trailing down its back, and finned hands. From the waist down, it had the long, slender and finned body of some kind of sea snake. All of its fins had ruffled, fancy-looking edges and they were flushed a striking shade of red. Next to him was a slightly larger creature of the same species. This one had smaller, much duller fins and a slightly chunkier, rounded frame.

You tried to respond, but all that came out of your throat was a groaning hiss. The first speaker cocked their head at you. “Can you not speak? Could you not do that before or were you hurt?”

“Maybe that’s how it speaks,” the second speaker said.

“No! I’ve seen videos of them before, they speak like we do.” The second speaker rolled their eyes. The first speaker ignored them. “Hey. Hey! You okay? Blink twice for yes!”

You stared at the first speaker. They tilted their head back at you. “No? Not okay?” How were you even supposed to answer that question? You didn’t feel particularly hurt so much as pretty uncomfortable, but you didn’t feel totally put together either. After another moment of consideration, you made eye contact with the first speaker and carefully blinked twice.

“It’s okay!” they cried in utter delight. “Look, see?”

“Then we can move it somewhere. Get the interstellars involved. Go for the head, I’ll get the legs.”

“Why do you get the legs?” the first speaker whined. The second speaker ignored them and seized you by your ankles, hefting your legs up onto their shoulder. The first speaker, grumbling quietly, heaved your top half up.

Despite looking like sea creatures, they navigated the sandy dunes with a surprising level of ease. Within a few minutes, you were being set down on the wooden floor of a tiny, one-room building. The floor was flat underneath you, but you could see a slope leading into the ocean. The home was partially open, allowing for a smooth integration between water and land.

“Can you sit up?” The first speaker carefully lay you against the wall so you were in a seated position. “Naerie, can we get some water?”

The second speaker, Naerie, appeared holding a small, wooden cup. She passed it over to the first speaker, who held it to your mouth. “Here. Drink,” they said.

You sipped slowly. It wasn’t as pure as the water you were used to on your ship- it had a strange, slightly plant-like taste to it. Still, it was water and relatively clean, and it helped focus your mind and soothe your throat.

You leaned away from the water glass and cleared your throat. It was still sore, but it was functional. “Where am I?”

“It speaks,” Naerie said. Their voice was mildly surprised.

“Yeah. It does,” you said. “I… remember crashing here.”

“We saw that,” the first speaker said. “Well, we saw you fall into the ocean and dragged you to shore. I think your suit absorbed most of the impact?”

“They’re designed for kinetic redistribution.” The first speaker nodded, though their expression was entirely devoid of understanding. “Um. That means they’re designed to spread impact shock away from my body. I’m probably bruised, but I shouldn’t have broken anything.”

“I’ve never seen a human before,” the first speaker said. They lifted one of your hands, toying with your fingers curiously. They seemed fascinated by your lack of fins. “Not in person, anyway.”

“Yes. You’re quite a… reclusive species.” Naerie’s lip curled. A sliver of ice-cold worry dropped into the pit of your stomach. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“It-” An abrupt rush of memories cut your voice off. You remembered running, barely able to feel your limbs through the numbness of fear. You remembered navigating a tiny fighter ship with numb fingers. You remembered flying and flying, not toward anything, but just away, away, away. And then watching the slow failure of your ship’s systems, feeling the ice cold of space leech into your cabin, the thinness of the air. The certainty that you were going to die, cold and alone in space and that somehow, that was entirely better than being where you had been.

“Oh, hey. Shh, shh.” Scaled arms wrapped around you, tugging you against a warm chest. The first speaker was hugging you, nuzzling their face against your head. “It’s okay! You’re safe now.”

“I’m alone,” you said, voice choked. Tears spilled down your cheeks. “I swear. I’m alone. No one’s with me. I didn’t mean to come here. I’ll leave.”

“You don’t have to leave! It’s okay!” The first speaker tugged you into their chest and glared at the other. “Naerie! Be nice! It’s okay, shh, shh.” They rocked back and forth, pressing your head to their chest. “You’re okay. You’re safe now.”

“If you’re alone, then I suppose it’s fine,” Naerie said. They seemed unsettled by your sudden tears. “All right. Terraso, let them lie back. We should get a good look at them, make sure they’re not hurt.”

You ended up wearing only the thin undersuit of your flight suit while Naerie probed at you delicately. In the end, it was determined that you were likely badly bruised, but not seriously injured. As Naerie prodded at your body, Terraso prodded at your mind by conversing cheerily. Names and pronouns were formally exchanged, and you learned that your rescuers were a couple, and lived on their own on the outskirts of a large city.

“I don’t suppose you have anywhere to go,” Naerie said, glancing you over. “You lost everything with your ship, didn’t you?”

You nodded. Technically, the only thing you had lost was a second set of clothes, but they didn’t need to know that. “I know how to live on my own.” Not really true, but you were pretty sure you could figure something out. “I can-”

“Absolutely not!” Terraso reared up on his long, serpentine lower half. “If you don’t have anywhere to stay, you should stay with us.” He turned, looking pleadingly at Naerie. “We can’t just kick her out.”

Naerie, despite her cool nature, didn’t seem keen on kicking you out either. Her brow puckered as she looked you up and down. “No, I suppose not,” she said. “You look as though you’re one missed meal away from starvation.”

You laughed. “It’s fine. I’ve missed plenty of meals before.”

Terraso and Naerie stared at you. Apparently that statement wasn’t as reassuring as you’d expected it to be. “You’re staying,” Naerie said. “Tomorrow, we can go into the city and see if we can get you set up with a life preserver pass. It’ll at least let you stay for a couple of months.”

“Life preserver pass?” you repeated.

“It’s like an emergency citizenship card. For people who end up planetside on accident, and are having trouble getting back home. If you get a citizen to stick up for you, you can get a life preserver pass until you figure out how to go home again,” Terraso said.

“That’s the simplified version. There’s a little more to it than that. Terms and conditions and all that. But you don’t need to know that to fill out the paperwork,” Naerie said.

Terraso rolled his eyes and leaned close to speak in a stage whisper. “Don’t mind her. She works for interplanetary governmental communications. Lots of paperwork.”

You nodded. “What do you do?”

“Oh. Mind the house, mostly.” Terraso rolled onto his back, swishing his tail idly.

You stared. “Mind the house?”

“You know. Cook, clean, make sure everything’s all nice for Naerie when she comes home,” Terraso said.

You mulled that over. “You don’t have a job?”

Terraso shrugged. “I mean, I keep everything in the household running. That’s kind of a job. When we have kids someday, I’ll take care of them.” He gave Naerie an eager look. She smiled back at him. “Didn’t they have house spouses where you came from?”

“Everyone worked,” you said. “Both my parents. All my siblings. If you had time to relax, you had too much time on your hands.”

Naerie and Terraso exchanged a look. “Where did you say you were from again?” Naerie asked. Her voice was soft, like she was talking to something easily spooked. You bristled at the implication.

“I’m from the Unity Formation,” you said. Naerie looked at Tarraso. He shrugged.

“Okay. Well. You’ve been through a lot. Why don’t you let Terraso take care of you for a while? I’ll start getting things set up for going into the city and getting you a life preserver pass.” They exchanged a couple more significant looks as Naerie slipped into the water at the other side of the house. It seemed strange, but you were too exhausted to care. You slumped back against the wall.

“You want anything to eat?” Terraso asked. There was a forced, cheery note in his voice. “You really are skinny. It’d probably be good for you to eat.”

It was clear he was trying to distract you, but you were hungry enough to allow it. “Sure.” Terraso grinned and started rummaging through cabinets, chattering cheerily all the while. His voice rose and fell like a wave. After a little bit, you didn’t even hear the individual words anymore. Just the soothing sound of his voice.

The next morning, Nearie provided you with some clothes. They were toga-like, made more for her legless species than yours, but you accepted them regardless. They covered everything important, anyway. Terraso fussed over you until you had eaten nearly two large helpings of breakfast. Feeling uncomfortably full, you left with your companions for the city.

The city was built much in the same way as their house- partially submerged, with other members of the alien species slipping in and out of water with ease. However, you noticed a few other land-walkers, like you, walking easily through the part of the city that was on land.

Naerie noticed you looking. “This city’s one of the more progressive ones. It’s the only interstellar spaceport, so we get a lot of other species here. Not many humans, though.”

You shook your head. “That’s okay.” A hulking, bladed creature strode by. You tried not to stare. There were more species here than you’d ever seen in your entire life. Gawking at them would probably not make a good first impression. Naerie saved you by slithering up to the front door of a tall, stately building and gesturing you inside.

It was several hours of bureaucratic wrangling before you could leave the building again, this time with a subdermal implant marking your status as a temporary citizen. You toyed at the small bump on your skin. It was designed for easy removal, but you couldn’t stop prodding at it, barely holding in the urge to rip it back out. The feeling of something like that under your skin again was unsettling.

The next stop was the shopping district. There were a few small, out-of-the-way shops that catered to bipeds, and you left laden with new clothes. The variety was amazing- you had never seen so many different kinds of fabric in your life, or so many rich, vibrant colors. It was almost overwhelming.

“Is this all right?” you asked as the three of you left the shop. “It must have been expensive. I can try to pay you back-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Naerie said, waving her hand in your direction. “Temporary citizens get a small stipend to fund their lives here until they can get stabilized or off planet.”

“Oh.” You looked down at the clothes. “And you’re okay with me staying with you? I don’t want to be a bother. I-”

“I think it’s exciting!” Terraso cut in. “I’ve never really interacted with a human before.”

Naerie smiled warmly at him. “Terraso’s always been fascinated with aliens. And, regardless, we’re not the sort of people who throw those in need out on the street.” She gave a disdainful sniff, displaying her opinion of those sort of people.

The city glittered with glass spires as you headed out of the shopping district and into an area that smelled mouthwatering. “Want to get some lunch?” Terraso asked. His body bumped lightly against yours as he spoke. He had a habit of doing that, freely letting a hand rest on your side to pressing his shoulder against yours. You nearly jumped every time he touched you. The casual nature of it was surprising.

“I’m not hungry,” you said. “I had a lot for breakfast.” Not to mention that lunch was more of a holiday treat than something you ate every day.

“That was quite a few hours ago,” Naerie said. “You don’t eat much, do you?”

“I’m used to having only two meals a day,” you said, an edge of defensiveness creeping into your voice. Terraso and Naerie exchanged looks again.

In the end, Terraso convinced you to try some sort of fried plant that was apparently the city’s specialty. It was far richer and oilier than anything you’d ever eaten before, and you had to nibble it slowly. Terraso chattered amiably about the city- apparently he was something of an architect nerd and could list off a few interesting facts about most buildings, even the ones that didn’t look particularly impressive.

By the time you had returned home, you were exhausted, and your stomach was in revolt over the fried food. You spent most of the night hunched over their toilet while Naerie and Terraso alternately checked on you.

“I’m really sorry! I didn’t think it would make you sick,” Terraso said, tucking a blanket over your shoulders. You retched once more, bringing up thin bile. “I’ve seen humans eat that stuff before, so I just thought…”

“Maybe I’m allergic to it,” you suggested. Terraso made a chirruping noise of surprise.

“You weren’t gene treated for allergies as a kid?” he asked.

“Was I what?”

“Gene treated? You know, they do the histamine test and then they correct mast cells and…” He stared at your confused expression. “It’s standard medical procedure. Nobody gets sick or dies from allergies anymore.”

You shook your head. “We didn’t have it, I guess. I might not be allergic, anyway. I’ve never had anything like that before. Mostly, we had nutri-slurry.”

Terraso fussed with the edges of the blanket, twisting it between his hands as he tucked it around you again. “Did you grow up on a station in deep space?”

“Er.” You paused. “I grew up on a station.”

“You’re supposed to have one year planetside for every four years on the station. And more to eat than nutri-slurries.” Terraso’s tone was less scolding and more concerned. He gave you a look with his big, soft eyes. “Are you feeling any better? Less sick?”

“I’m okay,” you said. “You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”

“Mm. I don’t believe you,” Terraso said. “You seem like one of those people who won’t admit to being sick even when you’re a fin’s thickness from death.”

“Being sick isn’t an excuse for missed work,” you mumbled. The memorized phrase jumped to your lips before you had time to even think about it. Terraso’s expression flickered for a moment before smoothing back to kindness.

“You don’t have any work to do right now, so why don’t you just rest?” Terraso curled his tail beneath him and smoothed the blanket between your shoulders. “Get some sleep. I’ll stay here.”

You were too weary to protest. Instead, you snuggled further under the blanket and closed your eyes. Even the twisting of your stomach wasn’t enough to keep you from the warm embrace of sleep.

Gradually, you settled into a sort of routine with your rescuers. You woke in the morning, ate breakfast, and Naerie would go to work. Then Terraso and you would take care of any household chores that needed doing. Given that there were two of you, it took much less time than usual, and Terraso would usually spend the rest of the day teaching you about the local culture. It was overwhelming at times, the level of variety that was present. So different from your home, it made your head spin.

As you got bolder with your questions, you noticed Naerie and Terraso exchanging looks more often. You just started calling it the Look in your head- you would say something about your home and they would give each other the Look. The Look usually meant the next few minutes would be full of awkward tension, while Naerie and Terraso circumnavigated the topic.

The first few times the Look occurred, it was strange. After that it quickly made its way to annoying, then straight up frustrating.

When they exchanged the Look after you spoke about the oddness of the local week-long festival, you put your foot down.

“If you think I haven’t noticed the two of you sneaking glances at each other every time I mention something from my home, you’re wrong,” you said. Terraso froze like a kid sneaking extra slurry. Naerie, on the other hand, seemed entirely unaffected. She put her utensils down and steepled her fingers, as best she could with webbed digits.

“We weren’t intending to keep anything from you,” she said. “But… ugh, I’m not going to dance around the reef anymore. Where exactly did you come from? You crashed here looking half starved, you usually refuse to discuss your old life, except cryptic, concerning details, and everything seems to suggest you crashed here on accident while running away from something. So. What were you running from?”

“I’m not a criminal,” you said. It came out far more defensive than you intended. Terraso sucked in a breath through his teeth and tried to play intermediary.

“We don’t think you’re a criminal! We don’t! That wasn’t what we were suggesting. We’re concerned, though,” he said, his voice softening. “We want to know that you’re safe. You don’t talk about your life before you came here. We’re just worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” Your voice was sharp, automatic. Defensiveness bristled all over you, like quills. “There is no reason to be concerned. I am still able to complete my duties.” Terraso blinked and he and Naerie exchanged the Look. “And stop doing that!”

“We didn’t mean to upset you. We’re only trying to look out for you.”

“I have been doing fine,” you said. “Please. Leave it.” Your voice shivered at the end. You swallowed. A shiver of fear rippled down your spine and dug into the pit of your stomach.

Terraso lifted his hands and spread his fins. “Hey,” he said, his voice lowering. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. You’re all right.” He moved slowly toward you until he was within touching distance. Despite being close enough to hold you, he just extended his hands, like he was waiting for you to make the first move. “Breathe. Just breathe. You’re safe. I swear you’re safe here. Just wait for a moment until you come back to us. Okay?”

The soothing rise and fall of his tone relaxed something in the back of your brain. Your chest loosened and the trembling fear in your gut eased. Tentatively, you reached out and touched his hand. His fingers closed around yours, loose enough that you could pull away if you wanted to.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Naerie said. She was speaking in the same soothing register as Terraso, though she was somewhat less practiced at it. “I’m just worried. I want to know that you’re okay.”

Her voice was unbearably tender on the last word. Terraso’s thumb traced along the back of your knuckles. The combination of two, tiny, kind actions made something in you, something that had barely been holding steady all this time, crack.

Sobs shuddered through your chest. Terraso made a quiet cooing noise and you slumped blindly, fumblingly, into him. Naerie slipped around him to rest a gentle hand on your back. For several moments, they held you up as you cried.

Somehow, you weren’t entirely sure how, you ended up on the floor, cradled between Naerie and Terraso. One of Terraso’s cheeks rested on your head. Naerie was rubbing your back up and down in slow, loose circles. “Feeling better?” Terraso asked quietly.

“I think so,” you said. Despite the tension releasing in your chest, you couldn’t get your fingers to relax on Terraso’s arm. He didn’t mention it. “I- I know you’re worried.”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Naerie said. “I shouldn’t have pushed it.”

“No. I know I should talk about it. It’s… not happy, though.” You took in a deep breath. Terraso nuzzled you comfortingly. “It’s… I spent most of my life on the Unification Centralized space station. My parents joined when I was two. It was supposed to be this… utopia, I guess. A self-sustaining space station. But it wasn’t that. Once you were on the station, you couldn’t leave, and you had to work for the greater good. They said that all the time. You needed to work for the greater good. If you weren’t working, if you got sick, it meant you weren’t strong enough, that there was something wrong with you. And that was life. You worked and you tried to keep on the good side of the leadership, and if you didn’t you were in trouble.”

Naerie was looking at you with a combination of worry and horror. You glanced toward her face, but you couldn’t maintain eye contact. “I… left. My little sister- she was born after my parents joined. She got sick. Really sick. They said that she was being… I don’t know, punished for something.” Tears stung at your eyes, but your emotions had become manageable enough to repress them. “She died. Because we weren’t allowed to get help for her. And I didn’t know where to go after that but I knew I couldn’t stay there.”

“So, you left,” Terraso said. “That must have been terrifying.”

“It wasn’t, really,” you said. “I mean, it was. But it all seemed really far away. I didn’t want to die, but I guess I figured that staying there was a death sentence anyway, so it didn’t matter. I just… I had to leave. I had to.”

There was silence for a few minutes. Terraso rested his head on your shoulder. Naerie’s arm lay across your shoulders. Their touch felt stabilizing, grounding, like it was what was pulling you to the planet, not the gravity.

“I’m sorry,” Naerie said. “I’m sorry that happened to you. And I’m sorry about your sister.”

“Thank you.” Your voice grated in your throat. You cleared it a few times.

“How did you come here?” Terraso asked. “Did you just pick a planet to go to at random?”

You snorted. “I didn’t even get that far. I just tried to go in a different direction from the space station as fast as I could. I used one of the little space hoppers, the ones that are only supposed to be used for short travels. They don’t have onboard navigation systems.”

“That was reckless,” Naerie said. “You could have died. You almost did die.”

You shrugged. “I know. Like I said, I wasn’t really all that focused on surviving. I just wanted to get away.”

Terraso hugged you. His tail swung up, loosely wrapping around your waist. Naerie petted your head absently, though her gaze was distant.

“Please focus on surviving now,” Terraso said. His voice came out soft enough that it was almost a murmur. “It’s… scary to hear you talk like that. Like you don’t care if you live or die.”

You brushed your hand along his head, prompting his fins to stand to attention. “It’s okay. I’m feeling better now. It’s easier, with you two here. Like I have something to live for.”

Naerie smiled at you. Her eyes softened, glittering with emotion in a way you’d only seen when she looked at Terraso. Something in your chest tightened and loosened in the same moment.

“I have a suggestion,” Naerie said. “You have never experienced anything like the festival before, have you?” You shook your head. Naerie smiled. “Well. Why don’t we go out? It will be a good experience for you to have fun.”

Terraso perked up, lifting his head off your shoulders. “Yes! We haven’t been to one of the festivals in so long and it’s so much better with someone who hasn’t been before! You’ll love it.” He straightened up, tail coiling and uncurling with enthusiasm. “Only if you want to go, of course,” he added, looking at you with uncertainty.

“I’ve never been to one before,” you said, “so I won’t know what it is you’re supposed to do…”

Terraso grabbed your hands, squeezing them in his. “You’re not supposed to do anything except have fun! It’ll be good, I promise! And if you’re not having a good time, we can just go home.”

“It’s true. There’s no reason we can’t come back if you aren’t enjoying yourself,” Naerie said. “I think you’d enjoy it. And I think I’d enjoy seeing you have fun.”

“Okay, okay. If you both are so excited, then we’ll go. I just need a minute to get ready-”

“Meet us outside in ten,” Naerie said. She slipped underwater with Terraso, presumably so they could both get ready themselves.

Ten minutes later, Naerie met you outside. She flicked her fins casually in the faint sunlight that filtered through the clouds. “Terraso will be along in a moment. He likes to dress up.”

“Dress up?” The concept of getting into fancy dress to go places was still a bit of a foreign concept to you. Everyone had worn the same uniform in your old home.

“He likes the festivals,” Naerie said. “You’ll see.”

Almost as soon as she’d finished speaking, Terraso emerged from the sea, squirming in excitement. His fins seemed a brighter shade of red than usual, though you weren’t sure if he was slightly flushed or if it was an effect of the bright gold piercings he’d applied. A few of them even had red, fluttering cloths attached to them, giving the impression that he had more fins than he did.

“Are we ready to go?” he asked. Naerie smiled, linking one of her arms through his. The way her eyes roved over his body almost made you blush.

“We were waiting on you.” She reached out and, to your surprise, linked her other arm through yours. You tried not to look too surprised. As strange as it was, you didn’t want to do anything that might make her let go.

The city was enveloped in brilliant lights when you arrived. Aliens and natives alike were out in the streets, laughing and talking and shouting amongst themselves. The air smelled of a hundred different things, all delicious. Stalls were set up all over the streets, most of them with various pieces of art or food or souvenirs for sale. A few of them seemed to be offering some sort of lessons in art or dance or other such things. It was almost immediately overwhelming. Not negatively overwhelming, but it took you a moment to process everything.

“You should decide what we do first,” Terraso said. He looked at you with bright, eager eyes. “See anything you like?”

“Er,” you said. There were a lot of things that looked interesting, but you couldn’t sort out what a lot of them were, much less what you would enjoy.

“Terraso,” Naerie said. “Why don’t you pick first? We’ve been here before, after all, so we should be guides.”

In the end, Terraso dragged you over to some sort of simple game that consisted of tossing small balls into several different containers. You tried a couple of times, but the game was a lot more difficult than it looked. After quite a few tries, Terraso managed to score enough points to receive a stuffed toy resembling one of the many eel-like creatures that lived in their oceans.

“Here!” He thrust it into your arms, smiling triumphantly. You blinked down at it, a little confused.

“I don’t need this?” you said. “You don’t even have stuffed animals in your house. Why were you so intent on winning it? I don’t even think it’s particularly well made.”

“That’s not the point!” Terraso said, still grinning broadly. “The point is winning! Especially winning something for someone else!”

“He loves those games,” Naerie said, leaning over to speak quietly in your ear. “He’ll spend all our money on those things if we let him.”

You looked down at the stuffed toy in your arms. It looked pretty wonky, honestly. “Why? You could probably buy one of these for pretty cheap. Why spend so much money to win it? There’s no point.”

Naerie smiled slightly, eyes glittering. “Of course there’s a point. It’s to have fun.”

Naerie ended up drawing you over to some art booths. There were some live demonstrations, even things like glass blowing. You were fascinated by the careful motions, the way the demonstrator was able to twist blazingly hot glass into delicate shapes. Apparently taking into account how fascinated you were, Naerie practically shoved you into the arena the instant the demonstrator asked for a volunteer.

The demonstrator was kind and gentle as he helped you through the moves. In the end, you had a small replica of an undersea plant. Apparently you had a knack for shaping glass and the demonstrator insisted that you have another lesson when you came to pick up the piece from him.

“Perhaps there’s an apprenticeship there for you,” Naerie said as you rejoined her and Terraso.

“An apprenticeship?” you repeated. It hadn’t been something you were considering.

“Just a suggestion,” Naerie said. “You seemed to enjoy it and he seemed like a good teacher. I was only thinking- you’ve been here for a while. Perhaps it’s time to start… setting down roots?”

Her voice was delicate, gentle, but you could feel the intensity behind both her and Terraso’s gazes. It was true- you’d been living with them for a while, but you hadn’t really made any preparations to fend for yourself. You’d just been sort of floating.

“It’s something to think about,” Naerie said, putting a soft hand on your arm. “You don’t need to think about it right now.”

Your stomach picked that moment to interrupt. Terraso burst into high-pitched giggles. You glared. “Maybe we should get something to eat,” he said. “Something that’s not too hard on your stomach.” You pulled a face. They’d never forgotten your incident after the fried food and, in all fairness, you couldn’t either. Your stomach had adjusted to some of the heavier fare, but you were still prodded to nausea by anything with too much grease.

Naerie ended up picking some kind of grilled plant matter skewered on a thin wooden stick. Terraso practically crawled over her back as she took the sticks from the vendor. “Here, here, take it,” she said, passing him the stick. He bit into it delightedly, tail wriggling. She offered you one as well and you bit into it tentatively.

The fruit was sweet and salty in equal measure, with just a bit of bitterness from the char. You practically ripped into it, eating it with a ravenous fervor. Within a minute, it was gone.

Naerie laughed. “We’ll have to get you some more of those,” she said. She held out her own stick. “Here. You can have a bit of mine, too.”

You paused. Naerie had already taken a few bites out of it, and she was holding it out to you like she was just expecting you to take a bite while she was holding it. Somehow, that idea came across as almost unbearably intimate. A flush started to creep up your face. Still, Naerie was looking at you with expectance. Maybe you were overreacting? And even if you weren’t… you wanted to. Slowly, you leaned forward and took a delicate bite of the sweet fruit.

Naerie smiled. “Good?” Her voice had taken on a melodic tone, one that made your blushing even worse. You nodded slowly.

“Good,” you said. Terraso smiled and winked at you over Naerie’s shoulder. You looked down at the ground, flustered. “Er. We should, er. Keep going, right?”

The rest of the night was spent wandering the festival, attending the booths and activities. There was more to experience than you’d ever seen before- rides and shows and games all in a riot of colors. At some point, Naerie had pressed alcohol into your hands and you’d started drinking. Terraso was in a similar drunken state, giggling and flopping around, his slithering unsteady.

When the three of you made it back home, all of you were tipsy, bordering on drunk. Naerie was the most sober, but that wasn’t necessarily saying much. She managed to get both you and Terraso in the door before she slumped against a wall, giggling faintly.

Terraso was wrapped around you like a scaly rope, tightening his grip every time you tried to wriggle free. His head was pressed into the side of your neck, fins tickling lightly against your skin.

“Tired,” he mumbled. “Go to bed.”

“You can go to bed, if you want, but you gotta let go!” you said.

“No!” Terraso nuzzled further into your neck. “I want to sleep with yooouuu.”

“I can’t sleep underwater. I’ll drown,” you reminded him.

“Then I’ll sleep up here,” he declared. He lifted his head from your neck and, with some effort, focused his attention on Naerie. “Come on! Come sleep with us!” He made grabby hands at her, then started giggling. “Ooh. Sleep together. Ha ha. We shooouuuld.”

The double entendre made your cheeks grow warm. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” you said, trying to gently pry him off of you. That only made him cling tighter.

“But Naerie said she wouldn’t miiind,” Terraso said. He tilted his head, hanging off of you so he was looking at Naerie upside down. “Right? You said you wouldn’t miiiiiiind, Naerie.” He looped his arms tighter around your neck. “You’re so nice and pretty.” He hiccupped. “And- and- I love yooouuu.” His face was almost completely buried in your neck, muffling his voice. “I love you and Naerie and I wanna be with both of you! Naerie agrees!”

You looked up at Naerie. She was staring at you with wide eyes. It was hard to tell with her species, but you were pretty sure she was blushing. “He’s very drunk,” she said apologetically. “He tends to be, er. Very open when he has too much.” She held her hands out. “Here, I can take him and make sure he gets to bed okay.”

“Noooo!” Terraso wailed. He wrapped around you as tightly as he could. “Not goin’ anywhere!”

Perhaps you also had gotten a little tipsy, because you were feeling unusually bold. “I don’t mind,” you said. “If he wants to stay with me, that’s fine. He can sleep in my bed tonight.”

“Yay!” Terraso mumbled from his position against your shoulder. Naerie seemed conflicted, but she helped you and Terraso into bed. Despite how awkward it made things, Terraso was very insistent on not letting go of you at all.

“What he was talking about before,” you said as Naerie helped you into bed. “That stuff he said, about…”

“About the sleeping with you?” Naerie asked. She sounded unusually unsteady. “Yes. It was. I’m sure he wouldn’t have said anything if the drink hadn’t rendered him completely senseless.” Despite her words, her tone was affectionate. “We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t,” you said hurriedly. Terraso moaned and somehow managed to snuggle closer to you. “I like you. Both of you. You’re the first people who’ve ever been really nice to me. And you’re both so sweet and Terraso’s funny and you’re so caring- I don’t think I could ever find anyone better.”

“I was hesitant to approach you about it,” Naerie said in a slow, uncertain voice. “I didn’t want to make you feel pressured to be in a relationship with us because we’re the ones helping you. But we… have discussed it. Polyamorous relationships are fairly common among our species. We’ve been interested.”

“I’ve never had any kind of relationship before,” you said. “Not a romantic one, anyway. So I’ll be a little new to this. If you’re still okay with going through with this?”

Naerie smiled and leaned closer to you. One of her hands lingers on your face. “I think I would be interested in teaching you. And I’m certain you couldn’t drag Terraso away with wild therians.”

“It’s true,” Terraso mumbled into your shoulder.

Something in your stomach fluttered. “If- if you’re sure, then.”

Naerie smiled. “I could not be more sure,” she said. She leaned in, then paused, your faces less than an inch apart. You realized she was waiting for you to make the next move. It took you a moment to steel your confidence, then you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers.

The kiss was clumsy and uncertain, but it managed to be good nonetheless. When you broke apart again, you were giggling giddily.

“Perhaps you need practice,” Naerie said, a faint smile playing with her mouth.

“I’ll help,” Terraso declared. He pressed a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth. Naerie laughed, easing him off of you and into bed. His tail wrapped around your leg insistently, though, and there was no way you would be able to pry it off.

“I suppose we’re staying up here tonight,” Naerie said. Terraso nuzzled into your side with a happy sigh. Naerie smiled. “He’s happy, at least.”

“I’m happy too,” you said. Naerie looked up at you, eyes soft with affection.

“Yes. I am too.”

[wlwloverwrites]

Switch

Pairing: Bottom!Wanda Maximoff x Top!Reader

Warnings: bondage, riding crop use, pussy slapping, nipple clamps, fingering, begging, porn without plot, orgasm control, smut (18+)

Summary: You switch roles for once, but Wanda has a hard time listening.

Main Masterlist

DO NOT STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS ON ANY OTHER PLATFORMS. NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO DO SO

“Don’t get too comfortable, Y/N.” Wanda hisses as the thick, black leather digs into her soft wrists. Beads of salty sweat began to gather on her flushed forehead.

“That’s mistress to you, pet.” You growl out letting the small, black riding crop twirl between your fingers.

Your eyes drink up the exotic image in front of you, the strongest avenger, girlfriend of three years, tied to your bed. Her delicate wrists laced to the king-sized bed. Her ankles are tied the same way leaving her body exposed.

Legs spread open giving you the perfect view of Wanda’s wet, throbbing pussy. Blood orange hair sprawled out on the soft white pillow while her breasts rise with each breathe. Metal clamps attached to her sensitive, pink nipples. Whenever you felt like teasing you’d tug the thin chain, causing Wanda to sigh deeply but her poker face remained. She refused to give you any type of reaction. You had to admit you were pretty impressed, but you were determined to break her.

“Y/N.” she groans out - almost annoyed. Wanda’s glowing eyes meet yours, challenging you, but you weren’t having it.

“Mistress.” you corrected coldly staring into her glowing red eyes.

“Never gonna happ-”

Smack!

The cold leather lands harshly on the inside of Wanda’s milky thigh. Smirking when her words get cut off and a pink mark appears.

“Did you seriously just- you’re unbelievable.” she scoffs, her eyes looking around the room, avoiding your stare.

“I can keep going, pet. I know how much your pussy likes it.” Trailing the crop along her thighs, teasingly brushing the smooth leather on her pubic bone. Your eyes glued to her pale skin, mouth watering at the sight of her wet pussy.

You wanted nothing more then to drop to your knees and lick her up. You wanted her to tell you how she wanted you. You wanted her to praise you, but you were having too much fun to end the power here.

“Do you think this pretty pussy likes to get slapped?” you ask with fake curiosity, a small pout on your lips.

Wanda visibly shivers at your words, tiny goosebumps rise on her skin which cause you to raise your eyebrows. You hadn’t expected her to react, let alone shiver. Wanda’s eyes are sudden focused on the white ceiling avoiding eye contact making an evil smile appeared on your face.

“Oh pet,” you moan out, brush the riding crop against her throbbing core. The stiff leather traces her pussy, never giving wanda the satisfaction of touching her clit.

“You want me to slap this pretty pussy until you’re all swollen?” your voice is taunting and rude, nothing like the sweet girlfriend Wanda knew she was. The girlfriend always begged for her strap, cried for her fingers and thrived to be her good girl. No, this was a new Y/N, that no one had seen before. 

“I know you want it pet, I see how soaked you are.”

Your pussy throbs when you hear the smallest whine escape Wanda’s lips. 

Oh this was gonna be fun. 

Smirking to yourself when you watch Wanda squirm under your gaze, the crop brushed against her soaked folds. The heartbeat between her legs was only beating stronger with your stretched out movements. 

“Fuck.” 

Your thighs clench together when you hear her curse. her eyes are shutting, bottom lip stuck between her teeth. You almost gave in, but you stood your ground wanting to see how to well you could control the game. 

“Beg for me, Pet,” you demand landing another strike on the inside of Wanda’s thigh, this time aiming closer to her throbbing core. The red mark appears almost immediately. 

“Please,” Wanda begs. 

“Please what?” you ask, raising your eyebrows as you lightly tap the inside of her other thigh with the glistening leather. 

“Please! Mistress! Please!”  

“Since you asked so nicely,” you taunt before bringing the crop down to her pussy. Wanda’s body reacts as soon as the stiff leather connects to her wet pussy. A loud moan fills the lightly-dim room, shaky thighs threaten to close when you bringing the crop just above her clit. 

“You want more, pretty pet?” 

“Yes please, Mistress.” 

Lightly tapping the crop on her pussy, each tap makes her jump. Occasionally landing a hard smack on her thighs. Her whole body was reacting to the leather’s soft but firm touches, her wetness almost dripping onto the sheets beneath her. The inside of her thighs had red marks that you seemed fit to kiss once you were done. You’d make sure to be gentle against her clit. 

“Oh fuck, I’m going to come,” Wanda cried out when you landed the crop even harder on her swollen, pink pussy. You didn’t know she’d be this sensitive or like this so much. This was new territory and Wanda was obviously loving every second. 

“Don’t you dare,” you hiss, tugging on the cold chain on her chest, the clamps holding on for their life on her sensitive nipples, making her cry out in pain.

She loves the pain. She loves the stinging on her milky thighs and soaked folds. She loves the marks forming on her wrists and ankles as she continues to struggle against their hold.

“A pretty girl like you has to beg.” For just a split second you think she may disobey, that she’ll come from just your voice and the pain she loved so much. You watch as her eyes rolling to the back of her head, wrists struggling against the bonds. But she breaks, she cries out, begging until there tears in her eyes.

“Please, Mistress. Let me come. I’ll be good, just let- I’ll be a good girl.” 

“Do you deserve to come?,” you ask raising your eyebrows know damn well she’s struggling with forming words due you trailing the wet leather against her pussy.

When you receive no answer you tug the chain again. Her eyes open wide, red irises stare into your soul, your lustful eyes stare into her before softening. A silent ‘You okay?’ Wanda is quick to nod before she begs for your fingers, “Yes, Mistress. I’m being good. So good. I need your fingers.”

You hum softly to yourself before letting your fingers slide through her pretty pink, soaked folds. Spreading her lips apart, your mouth watering at the sinful sight of her dripping pussy. 

“Please.” 

“You’re so wet, pet. Such a little slut for pain.” you growl, completely ignoring her begs. Two fingers slide into her tight pussy, her moans becoming sufficiently louder almost immediately. Thrusting your fingers inside her at an even pace, testing Wanda’s patience. 

“Faster.” 

“What was that, pet? Did you just demand something from me?” 

“I’m sorry, Mistress. Please, go faster. I’m being so good.” Her begs are so pretty, high pitched whines make you want to give in to her, make her come until she’s floating and giggly, but you knew you couldn’t give in that easily. “I’m gonna come.”

“No.” You watch as her eyes widened when you slip your fingers out and shove them inside her mouth. You’re smart to shut her before she can complain. Cause you knew she’d curse you out. Never had you denied Wanda to come, given you were never in control. But you wanted to try it out. 

Of course you’d pay for it later. 

Give me Feedback

[vnderoos]

how did it end up like this? ✷ george weasley

(gif is not mine, credit to the owner) warnings / language, underage drinking word count / 13.1k

masterlist in bio ↴

THE ATMOSPHERE OF THE GREAT HALL that morning was nothing short of pleasant as Y/N walked through the large doors, her eyes flickering over the smiling faces of the other students. Part of her was happy that something as simple as a quidditch match was enough to get the whole school excited, but the other part of her thought the day couldn't move on any faster. She just wanted to watch Gryffindor hand Ravenclaw their asses on a shiny, silver platter, and there was no doubt in her mind that she'd get to witness it later.

In fact, she was sporting her red and gold sweater to prove it. It wasn't any old quidditch sweater, though. It was one that Molly Weasley had made for her last summer when she broke her arm after Ginny and the boys tried to teach her how to play, deciding she looked better rooting for them on the sidelines instead. She remembered how Molly had been hesitant to present it to her—like a sweater made from the woman's own hands wasn't all she had wanted after seeing the ones she'd made for Fred and George. I thought you could wear it when you cheer on our boys, she'd said, knowing how close the girl was with her twin sons, and Y/N would never forget the beaming smile on her face when she nearly cried at the sight of it. She had worn that sweater with unbeatable pride ever since.

When Y/N approached the Gryffindor table, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the twins were all wearing their team sweaters and she couldn't help but grin as she slipped onto the bench beside George. "Lovely day so far, isn't it?" she hummed as she sidled up to the boy, her thigh and shoulder pressing into his own, and despite the flip of her stomach and the fluttering of her heart, she blamed it on wanting to be closer to the group as a whole. A few of their eyes flitted to her as she settled in and soft greetings filtered from their mouths at her presence.

George was, by far, the happiest to see her. A dreamy smile spread across his lips as he looked at her, his little heart pattering when her first instinct was to invade his personal space. He didn't mind in the slightest, of course, and to prove it, he slipped his arm behind her and grabbed her hand. "I reckon it'll get better after the match," he replied, totally oblivious, in true Weasley fashion, to the way her cheeks flushed as she intertwined her fingers with his. The gesture was so normal for them that he barely thought anything of it and none of their friends seemed to question it, either.

Fred, who might've looked like his twin save for the shape of his nose and a couple of scars in random places, seemed a lot more invested in the game. "Yeah," he agreed confidently, crossing his arms on the tabletop. "'M sure the Ravenclaws'll soil themselves after we whip 'em on the pitch," he added, a crooked smile settled on his lips and Y/N couldn't help but laugh. "And someone's going to catch the snitch for us tonight, too, eh, Harry?" The older twin jutted his chin out towards the boy, whose dark eyebrows lifted slightly at his name.

Harry's green eyes darted between Y/N and Fred, before he nodded his head. "Oh, yeah, yeah," he said, his expression flickering from surprised to something more certain—more confident. "Cho is a great seeker, but I'm afraid I'm a bit better," he joked, a smile playing on his lips and Ginny scoffed from beside him, throwing a lock of her bright red hair over her shoulder.

"Bit cocky this morning, are we?" Ginny asked teasingly and Y/N could see the way that Harry's pale cheeks prickled with pink. Fred let out a loud laugh. She glanced over at George who fought a small chuckle and she couldn't help but do the same when she realized they had the same thought. She tilted her head down to hide her amusement as George's thumb brushed over the back of her hand, wondering how two people could be so oblivious.

Ron, on the other hand, didn't seem quite as enthused at their exchange as everybody else. "Don't think anyone asked your input," he muttered, his mouth filled with half of his biscuit, and a couple of crumbs fell from his lips as he spoke. Y/N's eyebrows lifted as they fell on the tabletop and she opened her mouth to make a quip about it, but the moment passed and Hermione took it upon herself to swat Ron in the arm. "Ow, what was that—"

In the middle of his moaning, Hermione cut him off with a sharp look. "She's your sister. Be nice, Ronald," she instructed in a motherly tone, before letting her eyes settle on his mouth. It was dusted in pieces of his biscuit and she shook her head at him in disappointment, but annoyance soon took over. "And where are your manners?" she chided.

"Yeah, Ronald. You're lucky mum's not her to wack you with the dishrag, but from the looks of it, you might get a book to the head instead," Ginny piped up again, referring to the dog-earred novel that sat next to Hermione's plate of food, and the group erupted into laughter. Y/N threw her head against George's shoulder, laughing into him, and she could feel the rumble of his chest as he let out his own chortles.

Even Hermione was giggling, but Ron got so flustered, even his ears turned pink. "Oh, shut it, Ginevra," he whined, after swallowing his foot for once. "I hope you fall off your broom during the game," he told her and Ginny hadn't been too far off, because Hermione picked up her book and gave him a good smack in the shoulder. His head whipped to the girl beside him and he gave her an offended look, lifting his hand to rub his shoulder, before he looked at Y/N. "The abuse I get from this one. George is lucky that you're so passive," he muttered and she nearly felt her heart stop in her chest.

The breath felt like it'd gotten sucked right out of her lungs and her eyes widened. She looked over at George when she couldn't find the words to speak for herself and she found his cheeks nearly as red as Ron's had been before. "What's that supposed to mean, Ronnykins?" he asked, making a halfhearted attempt at a silly nickname to keep the mood light and it only partially worked.

Either way, it had bought Y/N enough time to get over her initial shock of the question. "George and I are friends, of course, he's lucky," she hummed. "But you and 'Mione are what, exactly?" she asked, taking pleasure in the way that she directed the spotlight to him instead, and Ron seemed to sink into himself. Y/N and George laughed after that, but he couldn't help but let her words bobble around in his head.

Friends.

—

Sometimes, it was a little scary how good Fred Weasley was at predicting the outcome of quidditch games. It was like the game ran in his blood, and considering how he and George played on the field, maybe it did. He was the sole reason why a Gryffindor win never came as a surprise to Y/N, and this one was no different. When Harry had disappeared beneath the bleachers with Cho Chang, in a race for the snitch, the crowd had fallen silent, waiting with bated breath.

She knew it was impossible, but she liked to think that every time Harry's fingers wrapped around that winged ball, she could feel it in her very soul. When he'd flown out from underneath one of the Ravenclaw stands waving his fist in the air and flashes of gold streaked through his glove, she wasn't the least bit surprised. In fact, she called it instinct.

With Gryffindor already in the lead and the snitch in Harry's fingers, the win was official. Y/N could feel it radiating through her body, chills spreading through her limbs, and through the rest of their house, triumphant uproar filling her ears as soon as the game was called to a close.

Merlin, she loved quidditch. Especially that part, where the whole school would watch in suspense, and then when the snitch was caught, it would be absolute chaos.

As a cheer ripped itself from Y/N's own lungs, loud enough to make her throat raw, and her eyes surveyed the team on their victory lap, looking for her favorite troublemaker, she figured that maybe she just liked the chaos. She stood up on her seat when she spotted his flash of red hair beside his brother, identifying him by the hook in his nose, and she knew he'd seen her when he lifted his hand in a wave. She grinned back at him, flailing her arm in the air, and when he and Fred made their way to her side of the pitch, they shouted her name in passing. She just laughed and shook her head as they flew by.

Y/N took it upon herself to meet the team down on the bottom of the pitch after they'd landed and everyone else had dispersed, heading back to their common rooms to either wallow in the loss or, in Gryffindor's case, relish in that fantastic win.

Harry was the first one she saw when she stepped onto the grassy field, his dark hair matted to his sweaty forehead and his green eyes glittering with the satisfaction of securing the win, and she let out a squeak when they locked eyes. So worked up with pride for her house and her beautifully athletic friends, she couldn't keep herself from skipping up to him excitedly. "Harry," she said firmly, clapping him on the shoulders while he looked at her with a smile. "You, my friend," she paused, pointing a finger at his chest, "are bloody brilliant," she said, lifting that same hand to tweak his nose and he laughed.

Ron, who was standing only a couple of feet away, made his way over, a small laugh spilling from his lips, and Ginny wasn't far behind. "You know, if you weren't so clumsy, I bet you'd make a great captain, Y/N/N," the redhead teased and her eyes darted over to him. His fingers were wrapped around the handle of his broom and he was so sweaty, his robes were clinging to his skin.

Y/N broke out into a smile at the keeper. "Yeah, well, I think we all remember what happened over summer," she said and Ginny chuckled from the side. "See?" She jutted her thumb over towards the girl and locked their elbows together.

Ginny looked over at her with a small shrug. "S'okay. I think we'd all crash and burn if we didn't have you cheering us on every match, anyways," she said, earning nods of agreement from the boys and Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Oh, whatever." She patted Ginny's hand with her own, before she took a look around. "Anyone seen the boys?" she asked, her eyes flitting back to the three and Harry nodded towards them. Fred and George were off to the side a couple of feet, talking with Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson. Fred's broom was propped against his side and his hands were stretched out in front of him, a smile wide on his face as he spun up one of his stories. Y/N let out a huff of amusement. "Well, I'm gonna go congratulate them on the win, but you guys did amazing," she said, sliding her arm out of Ginny's and letting her eyes bounce off of all of them. "See you later." And with that, and a couple of quiet goodbyes, she was off towards the twins.

Y/N could see Angelina smile and nod at her as she ran excitedly towards the group and George spun around to meet her eyes. His red hair was damp with sweat, tucked behind his ears to keep it from falling into his eyes, and his skin glistened with the glow of a good game. She adored post-match George, he was prettier than usual. "Hello, darling," he hummed, making her heart melt in her chest, and he held his arms out to her. "Come to gush over us, have you?" he teased, but she hardly even registered it as she threw her arms around his shoulders. George wasn't even fazed by the impact—as this was something she did after every match, win or lose—and he lifted her up off of the ground, giving her waist a good squeeze before he set her back on her feet.

"Oh, I absolutely did," she said, pulling out of his arms so she could look at the other three, but he managed to keep an arm around her waist. "You all did so good, I'm so proud," she hummed. "You two and Alicia were marvelous. I mean, those last few scores were beautiful," she said, making the girls all bashful. "And Fred—" she started, but George couldn't help but look down at Y/N as she praised them all, warmth spreading through his chest at the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about the game, her words fading out for him.

Y/N was no different than she usually was after they'd won, but he often forgot how endearing she was when she rambled on about something she was passionate about. George curled his fingers slightly and brushed the tips along her side softly, watching her curiously as she went through their plays. Part of him hated that they were so close, because it made the frequent urges to kiss her to much harder to ignore. She was with him all the time and it was all he thought about anymore, even though he knew that just one peck might ruin everything. He was so certain that she thought of him as nothing more than a best friend that he kept it to himself.

Well, himself and Fred.

It was so bad sometimes that Fred would have to smack him to draw him back to reality.

George's train of thought came to a screeching halt when Y/N turned towards him. She always saved him for last, which he didn't mind. In fact, it made him feel more special, because she'd focus all her attention on him, then, and he'd get to walk her back to the common room. "And George—bloody hell—when you saved Alicia from that bludger, I nearly lost my voice. That was so badass," she said.

He could feel his stomach swirling with joy and his cheeks heating up at her words, and he caught Fred wiggling his eyebrows from over Y/N's head. That git, he thought to himself, but he kept his smile for her. "You think?" he asked and she nodded her head quickly. "Well, since we've all got something to celebrate, then," he paused, looking at Fred and the girls with a mischievous grin, "I propose we break out a bit of the Ogden's," he suggested.

Y/N looked up at him with a gaze that made his insides turn to mush. "I would be thoroughly disappointed if you didn't," she hummed, glancing between him and his brother.

Fred laughed, running a hand through his sweaty hair. "Well, that settles it," he said.

—

Hermione watched Y/N throw yet another sweater on her bed, as if she hadn't already emptied her entire trunk onto her mattress, and she let out a sigh. She was already dressed, but Y/N seemed to be having a hard time picking out her own outfit. "Why don't you just wear that green sweater? Not very suiting for a Gryffindor win, but you know George loves you in anything," she stated, walking over to the girl's bed and lifting up a forest green, cable-knitted sweater.

Y/N shot her an incredulous look, still leaning halfway into her trunk, and her lips parted slightly. "What in Godric's name would George have to do with my outfit?" she asked, even though they both knew good and well that she wanted to look nice for the younger twin. It was too bad that she had a hard time admitting it to herself, let alone her friends. Maybe it was because she usually felt like a lost cause with him. She was so far up friendship's ass with George, she really didn't see any hope of climbing out.

"Fine," Hermione sighed, folding the sweater neatly and setting it back on the bed with the rest of Y/N's bunched up clothing. "You're probably going to get hot with the fire and that alcohol in your system, so," she paused, letting her eyes dart from one piece of clothing to another, until she picked out the perfect outfit, "how about you try this on? If you don't like it, we can default to the sweater," she suggested, holding up a pair of ripped, boyfriend jeans and a dark red tank top with lacy detailing. "You could wear it with your sneakers, too, so you're still comfortable," she added.

Y/N got up off of her knees and took in the outfit. She'd always been to self-conscious to throw it on without a shirt underneath or a cardigan, but what was better than wearing it in the comforts of her own common room, where everyone was about to get too plastered to care, anyways? She took the clothes from Hermione, running her fingers over the fabric and she glanced up at the girl. She knew she would probably regret the words that were about to come out of her mouth, but it wasn't like her feelings were ever that much a secret to anyone. "You reckon he'll like it?" she asked hesitantly.

A warm smile spread across Hermione's lips, feeling a bit honored that Y/N had trusted her with somewhat of a confession, and she nodded. "You'll look beautiful, Y/N/N. I'll wait for you on the stairs while you change, then, and we can walk in together, okay?" she asked and Y/N nodded.

Hermione turned to leave, but Y/N stopped her before she could, giving her wrist a gentle squeeze. "Thank you," she said. "I don't know what I'd do without you sometimes," she mumbled and the girl smiled.

"I know," she teased, walking out of the room with a wink and leaving Y/N to get dressed.

The second Hermione left her to her own devices, she cast a quick spell to tidy up her mess of clothes and drop them back in her trunk. After that was settled, she shimmied out of her game-day outfit and pulled on the one Hermione had chosen for her instead. She felt a lot more self-conscious than usual, after she'd been wearing a sweater all day, but she got over it quickly when she glanced in the mirror. She'd done her hair and makeup before she'd looked for an outfit, so she wouldn't have had to worry about it, and looking at herself, now, she knew she'd made a good choice.

A half-smile settled on her lips as she studied herself in the mirror, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, and she turned, looking over her shoulder to check how her backside looked in her jeans. The jeans were snug in all the right places and she couldn't help but hope that her favorite twin might notice, as well. "Oh, yes," she hummed to herself with satisfaction, before she walked over to her nightstand. She slipped a couple of gold rings onto her fingers and popped in a pair of hoops.

Once she was all finished, she made her way out of the room, only to find Hermione waiting on the top step, just like she'd said she'd be. "Bloody hell," Hermione muttered when Y/N made herself known, her lips parting slightly as she took in her outfit.

Y/N's eyebrows lifted at Hermione's reaction and she felt the sudden urge to fold in on herself. She glanced down at herself and brushed her hands over her exposed stomach. "How do I look?" she asked, a sheepish smile spreading across her face.

"Stupid," Hermione hummed and Y/N's eyes widened, "because you ever even worried. You look gorgeous," she complimented and the girl felt her cheeks flush. "C'mon, let's go show you off," she said, grabbing her hand and starting down the stairs.

Y/N could feel her heart hammering in her chest, sudden nervousness prickling underneath her skin, and she almost wanted to turn and hightail it back up that staircase, but she didn't. She let Hermione lead her into the common room, where all the other Gryffindors were already dispersed throughout, talking with their friends or on their way to making new ones. She felt her nerves dissolve when her eyes met George's across the room. He looked like he'd showered since the game, as the dirt and the sweat were long gone, leaving his hair all shiny and fluffy. She had to fight the urge to go over and thread her fingers through it when he smiled at her. She was about to tell Hermione she'd catch up with her later, before the girl pulled her hand away.

She looked at Y/N with bright eyes, glancing at Ron, Harry, and Ginny, who were immersed in conversation by the designated snack table. "I know you probably want to talk to George, but I still wondered if you'd be mad if I went with Ron and Harry?" she asked and Y/N was almost relieved that she'd beat her to the chase.

She shook her head quickly and gestured over to them. "No, not at all, 'Mione," she said, urging her over there. "I'm sure we'll merge with you guys sooner or later, so I'm not worried. Go get him," she finished with a wink, not missing the way that Hermione's cheeks flared. Her mutual feelings with Ron were anything but subtle, so she liked to tease the girl about it with every chance she got, but she knew they'd never act on it until they admitted it to themselves.

Once Hermione mumbled a goodbye and walked away, Y/N's eyes snapped back to George, who'd started making his way over to her as soon as Hermione left. She felt herself smile and she moved to meet him halfway, taking in his outfit as she did. He was wearing a sweater that his mom made for him, a navy one with the letter 'G' stitched in gold on the front, and a pair of jeans. It was simple, but something about it made her heart skip a beat when the distance had been closed between them.

George's free hand, the other occupied by a drink, came to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer to him by the small of her back, and he let out a loud wolf whistle. "Well, don't you look absolutely stunning tonight, darling," he complimented, making a show of brushing her hair out of her face to see her earrings and holding one of her hands up to check out her rings. Usually, he'd be more embarrassed about being so forward, but with the familiar buzz of firewhisky already tingling in his fingers, he didn't really care.

Especially not as Y/N's cheeks turned about as red as her top, and she leaned forward. She wrapped her arms around his torso and buried her face in his sweater, laughing softly in slight embarrassment. "Thank you, Georgie," she said, looking up at him once she felt her cheeks lighten up, and he smiled down at her. "You don't look too shabby yourself," she complimented, plucking at his sweater as she pulled away, and she watched a crooked smile curve onto his lips.

"What d'you mean, Y/N/N?" George hummed teasingly, patting his own cheek. "I always look devilishly handsome," he added and she rolled her eyes up at him. He took it as a win when she didn't explicitly deny it. He set one hand on her bicep and let it trail down to her wrist softly, while he emptied the contents of his cup into his mouth with the other. "Anyways, I'm gonna go refill. Did you want me to grab you a drink?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Sure, I'll wait for you over there," she hummed, pointing to the wall on the other side of the room where George had come from before. Angelina and some of the other chasers were gathered in front of it, as beautiful as ever, and Y/N figured she might say hello.

George nodded at her request. "Be right back," he told her, giving her hand a squeeze, before he slipped away. She found herself missing their close proximity as soon as he left, taking the warmth of his body with him, and she half-wondered if she should just follow him to the drink table. She didn't want to give anyone any ideas about them, though, so she stuck with her original plan and made her way over to the fireplace, where Katie, Alicia, and Angelina were all huddled together.

Alicia was the first to notice her, a bright smile stretching across her pretty, pink mouth, and she tucked a tuft of her chocolate hair behind her ear. "Well, well, well," she hummed, her brown eyes scanning the length of Y/N's body, and she stepped towards her with her hand on her hip. "Somebody looks hot," she drew on with a grin, reaching out to welcome her with a side hug.

Y/N could feel her face get warm again at the comment, as she wasn't used to such attention, and she returned the side hug. "Says you," she retaliated, taking in the black tube top and red, leather skirt that Alicia sported herself. She took in the girl's dark eye makeup and glossy lips, and if she wasn't so into George, she might've had some questions for herself. "You're a total smoke show," she said and the brunette laughed. She pulled away from Alicia and her eyes landed on Katie, in her maroon jumpsuit, and Angelina, with her sparkly, gold, minidress. "Good Godric, you all are," she corrected herself, a beaming smile gracing her face when she took in how pretty her friends were.

"Thank you, Your Hotness," Alicia slurred, her cheeks a little pink from the Ogden's and it finally clicked why she seemed so forward. Y/N laughed and crossed her arms over her chest. "I was disappointed that I didn't get to see you after the game, but I heard ol' George whisked you away," she teased, waggling her eyebrows and eliciting yet another giggle from the girl.

Angelina threw her arm over Y/N's shoulder and leaned into her, while Katie did the same to Alicia. She braced herself against her shoulder, tipping her drink to her lips before speaking. "Yeah, speaking of your little boytoy," Angelina hummed, making Katie almost snort. "Honestly, I don't understand how he's more than three feet away from you, right now, you look so good," she said.

Y/N couldn't help from glancing over her shoulder at that, looking at the refreshment table for George, but she couldn't seem to find him, so she turned back. "Well, he was supposed to be getting me a drink, but I feel like he's taking a bit long," she said, her heart sinking slightly. Sometimes she liked or when they poked fun at her about her relationship with George, because if people noticed, maybe that meant he felt something for her, too. Times like now, though, where she felt like it was impossible for him to look at her as anything other than a sister, not so much. "Plus, it's not really like that between George and I, you know? We're good friends is all," she added, ignoring the way it almost hurt her to admit it.

None of the girls seemed to buy into that, though. Especially not Katie. "Not like that, my arse, Y/N/N," she said. "Friends don't look at each other the way you two do. I mean, the both of you are so clueless, it hurts," she continued, putting her hand over her heart and letting her head lull back as she let out an exaggerated groan.

Alicia nodded, seconding Katie's words. "Honestly. Plus, friends aren't all over each other the way you two are, either," she said. "I mean, I think it might kill him to go a day without holding your hand, or brushing your hair behind your ear, or touching you," she explained and Y/N felt queasy all of the sudden.

They were right. Normal friends didn't look at each other or touch each other in the ways that Y/N and George did, but they weren't just normal friends. They were best friends. George was her moon and stars at this point and she would never, ever hesitate to give him the world if he'd asked it of her, but what happened between them—every glance, every touch, every word—was strictly platonic.

Right?

Y/N didn't have time to respond before a familiar voice piped up from behind her. "Hey, ladies," Fred, she found when she looked over her shoulder, sing-songed as he made his way over to them. His eyes were focused mainly on Angelina, a soft smirk playing on his lips as he drank her in, before he let his eyes flicker between them all. "Mind if I steal our lovely little Y/N away for a bit? I've got matters to discuss with her," he said, winking at Angelina when they locked eyes again, and he watched the girl remove her arm from around Y/N.

"Just bring her back in one piece. We know you've got a habit for blowing things up," Angelina teased.

She nudged Y/N in Fred's direction and he donned a look of mock offense. "I'd never hurt a hair on her pretty head," he said, before letting a grin stretch out onto his lips. Y/N rolled her eyes at his theatrics and stepped closer to him, nodding at him in a silent way of saying she was ready. "Bye, Angie." He flicked his eyebrows at her in farewell, waiting for her to give him a flirty wave off, before he followed Y/N.

She stopped when they were out of the girls' earshots and she rested her back against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked over at Fred. "Am I in trouble, Freddie?" she asked in a teasing tone.

Fred looked down as her words pulled a quiet chuckle from his mouth. He placed his forearm on the wall above their heads as he settled in next her, leaning against it so he could just face her instead of leaning his back on the wall like she was. "Well, dear Y/N, that depends on how you look at it," he told her and she raised her eyebrows in question. He leaned forward as if to be more secretive. "I'm sure you'd be happy to know Georgie's not taken his eyes off of you since you walked in," he explained in a whisper, and she felt her cheeks turn pink.

Fred pulled away as she blushed, laughing to himself. She lifted one of her hands to her cheek, feeling how warm it was beneath her fingertips. "Shut up, you git. That was mean," she tried to hiss, but a laugh ultimately bubbled out of her lips.

He shrugged his shoulders and took a drink from his cup, his signature smirk still lingering on his face. "I wasn't teasing you that time, but whether you believe me or not is up to you. I wanted to talk to you about something else, anyways," he said, moving on from the topic of his brother. He took his hand off the wall and he shifted his weight, something near to nerves settling in his stomach. "Look, I'm sure you've picked up on how I feel about Angelina, yeah?" he asked.

"No." Y/N pretended to look surprised, letting her jaw drop as she let out a dramatic gasp. She got her bit of fun out of the way before Fred shot her a look and she cut it out. "I have," she admitted, on a more serious note, with a small shrug.

He nodded once. "Well, I wanted to make a move tonight and I think you should be the one to help me."

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows at that, tucking her hands into her back pockets. "And how do you want me to do that?" She asked and Fred's face lit up as he explained his plan. "Well, you'll have to get me a drink or two first."

"That, I can manage," he hummed, already holding the rest of his out for her.

—

George had just finished pouring himself and Y/N new cups of firewhisky when a group of other Gryffindors rushed to the table for the same reason. Feeling almost lucky that he'd finished when he did, he lifted their cups up off of the tabletop and maneuvered himself around them. His eyes trailed along the wall where she said she'd be at, making sure he could pick her out in the crowd, and his heart nearly fluttered out of his chest when he did.

Y/N was standing in front of the fireplace and she looked enchanting, even with Angelina Johnson hanging off of her shoulder. Her hair fell in pin straight sheets over her bare shoulders and the fire behind her created an outline of golden light behind her. If George had been any drunker, he might've mistaken her for an angel, honestly. He watched her mouth break out into a smile, a laugh that he couldn't hear from so far away bubbling from her lips, and he was about to make his way over to her, when Lee Jordan stepped in front of him.

"Georgie, my man," Lee said, beaming as he held up two shot glasses filled with a clear liquid. "Let's knock back a quick one," he suggested, holding one of them out to the redhead.

George was almost disappointed by his offer, letting out a sigh. He'd only talked to Y/N for a minute or two before he'd left her earlier, and right now, he was more focused on getting back to her than getting sloshed. "Lee, I'm sorry, but I was just about to—" he cut himself off when his eyes flickered back to Y/N and she wasn't there anymore. His eyebrows furrowed quickly, wondering where she'd gone so quickly, before his eyes wandered further down the wall and his stomach dropped. Her back was leaned against the wall while Fred, his own brother, stood next to her with his hand propped over their heads. He was whispering something in her ear, and George just knew he wouldn't like it when he saw how pink her cheeks got. Hot jealousy bubbled up inside of his chest and his eyes flickered back to Lee. "You know what, yeah. Let's do it," he hummed, repositioning the cups so he was holding them by the rims in one hand.

"That's what I'm talking about," Lee grinned and he held up one of the shot glasses, which George took more than eagerly, now. "On three?" he questioned and George nodded. "Right. One. Two," he counted, but in the place of 'three', he and George threw back their shots and swallowed them.

The liquid was bitter as it trailed down George's throat, but he knew the taste of vodka well enough to not ask Lee what it was. He'd had it so many times, he'd hardly flinched, either. "Here, Lee. Thanks," he hummed, passing the boy his glass back, and Lee nodded. George was about to excuse himself and walk over to Fred and Y/N. What he'd say, he wasn't really sure, but he didn't get the chance to think about it before his thoughts were interrupted.

"Alright, alright," a familiar, feminine voice shouted at the top of their lungs, quieting the entire common room in a matter of seconds. His eyes flickered to the center of the room where his very own Y/N stood on top of a table, with a drink he hadn't seen her with before and her hands held up in the air. He wanted to be angry at her, for talking with his brother over him, but she wasn't with him, now, so maybe he'd just chalk it up to bad timing on his end. She looked really beautiful, though, with her cheeks flushed because all the attention had shifted to her and her hair tied back in a low pony tail, something she'd probably done when he took his shot. "Who's up for some spin the bottle?" she yelled, before the common room erupted into roars.

George laughed to himself and he started towards her.

Things were about to get interesting.

-

At this point in the evening, the Gryffindor common room and everyone in it had been divided into two groups: those who were going to play spin the bottle, and those who wanted to keep partying on their own. Y/N, George, and all of their friends—with a couple of others sprinkled into the mix—had gathered on the half of the room intent on participating, all sat on the carpet in a tight circle. Everyone's knees were brushing against each other, all their cheeks flushed pink from the firewhisky, and excited smiles sat on all of their faces. "I'm going to assume that everyone knows how to play," Fred said as he placed an empty bottle of Ogden's Old in the center of the circle, having taken it upon himself to lead the pack after Y/N pretended the entire thing was her idea. Why he couldn't have just suggested it himself was beyond her.

George—who sat on the opposite side of the circle from Y/N, much to his dismay—chuckled and he leaned back onto the palms of his hands. "I'm sure if they don't, they'll pick it up quick," he hummed, and murmurs of agreement spread around the circle. The rules of the game were simple, really. Someone would the chain and spin the bottle, share a kiss with whoever it landed on, and then, the person they kissed would spin the bottle and the cycle would continue. As he waited for Fred to reclaim his spot in the circle, he knew exactly who he wanted his bottle to land on, but he wouldn't admit it for anything. "Who's first, then?" he asked, his eyes flitting around everyone, and his eyes locked with Y/N's for a moment. His heart melted when she flushed him that kind smile of hers and he managed one back.

Y/N couldn't help but be slightly disappointed that George had never returned with her drink earlier, as that meant her time with him had been cut short. She'd been hoping Fred's game might've changed that, but when she'd ended up sitting across from him, her hopes had dwindled. They still weren't too high, because the odds of her spin landing on him were about one in thirteen.

"I think Y/N/N should be the first to go, since this was her idea," Fred chimed from her left. He was lucky that Dean and Neville were positioned between the two of them or she probably would've punched him on the leg. Since she couldn't reach him from where she was sitting, she settled for a glare instead. He only smiled all-but-innocently in return. She had an inkling that this wasn't just about him and Angelina, after all.

Seamus, who was seated on her right, nodded. "It only seems fair, yeah?" he seconded. If only Y/N had known him better, because she wanted to punch him, too.

When the rest of the Gryffindors came to the same decision, Y/N sighed, deciding to give in. "Fine, if you all insist," she said and she reached up to tuck her framing strands of hair behind her ears. She leaned forward and reached into the middle of the circle, trying her hardest not to just stare straight up at George like she was dying to do, and she gave the bottle a good whirl. The second she did, her heart felt like it might jump out of her chest, but when she straightened up again, she tried to keep her cool. Part of her wanted for the bottle to land on George, so she could get the thought of kissing him out of her head, finally, but the other part of her prayed it didn't.

Who knew what a kiss could do to a friendship like theirs?

The group fell silent when the bottle started to slow down and Y/N knew that she wasn't the only one holding her breath. It wasn't until the neck passed George and land on Harry, who sat a few people down from him, did she feel like she could breathe again. Relief washed over her at the fact that whatever she had with George was preserved for a little bit longer, and also because she wouldn't have to kiss anyone too eager.

Harry was the happy medium: cute, respectful, and uncomplicated.

A couple of their friends oohed at the outcome and Y/N couldn't help but grin at the green-eyed boy. "Fancy a peck, Potter?" she asked, ignoring the feeling of George's eyes on her, and she watched as Harry nodded. The corners of his mouth were pulled up in an amused smile and he pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Y/N stood up and made her way over to him, before leaning down. She placed her hands on either sides of the Chosen One's face. She quirked her eyebrows up as if to ask if he was ready and he nodded once in response. With that, she pressed a small kiss to his lips. It was short, sweet, and she laughed softly when it was over. "We good?" she questioned, pulling her hands away.

Harry laughed. "We're brilliant," he hummed, before Y/N returned to her spot. He was next to spin the bottle. George hardly even registered it when Harry kissed Alicia next, as he still felt nauseous from watching Y/N kiss someone else. He knew that it was just a silly game amongst friends and that he really had no say in who she kissed or didn't kiss, but it didn't change the fact that it bothered him a little. Y/N, on the other hand, couldn't help but smile when Alicia spun next and wound up kissing Neville. The look on his round face after she'd sat back down beside Ron was just adorable. She swore that girl had left him with stars in his eyes. It was even more precious when Neville's turn landed him a kiss with Hermione.

It was less cute, though, when Hermione spin the bottle and it stopped right on George. The smile that Y/N had been sporting seemed to fall right off of her face, dropping to her feet, along with her stomach. Hermione glanced over at her and smiled awkwardly, knitting her eyebrows together in a way that showed her guilt, but Y/N waved it off. It was just a game. Even so, Y/N wouldn't deny the relief she felt when Hermione chose to kiss him on the cheek, instead.

When it was George's turn to step up, all eyes were on him, including Y/N's. Her mouth felt dry as she watched him from across the circle, his long fingers grabbing the empty bottle, and she swallowed thickly when his eyes flickered to hers. His lips quirked up in a half-smile and he winked at her as he twirled the bottle. She watched in anticipation as it circled around, choosing its next victim, and she was already preparing herself to watch George kiss someone like Alicia when the bottle stopped on the last person she expected.

Her.

Y/N's eyes widened, locked on that glass bottle, and the entire circle either laughed, cheered, or wolf-whistled. No fucking way, she thought to herself as her eyes snapped up to meet George's, which were blown just as wide. This was exactly the kind of opportunity that she'd been waiting for for years, now, but she felt sick to her stomach about it. She had it tangled in her thoughts that this singular moment would make or break them. She took a deep breath as George stood up, reminding herself that it was just a game, but either way, she knew she couldn't have her first kiss with him sitting down. She stood up, too, making her way to the center of the circle and meeting him halfway, her cheeks hot under the feeling of all eyes on her. She wished she'd had more to drink.

Something about George seemed off when she stepped in front of him. He wasn't passed around the school or anything, but she was aware enough to know he'd kissed girls before, but he seemed different, now. He didn't seem to know where to put his hands like he usually did and he swallowed thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did. "We don't have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable," he said to her, his eyes searching her own for anything that could give him an out.

It wasn't like he didn't want to kiss Y/N, because Merlin, did he, but after mulling it over in his head for months on end, he didn't want to throw their first one away in a drunken state. He'd always pictured it special, maybe on a day when he finally got the courage to take her to Hogsmeade. He'd take her to a bookstore, because he knew how much she liked to read, and he'd tell her how beautiful she looked when she could take her eyes off the shelves, and when she got all flustered, he'd lean in and kiss her softly. He'd had it all planned out. He'd been mistaken earlier, he figured, when he'd thought that he wanted his turn to be with Y/N, because now that it was, he was regretting joining this game entirely.

Y/N looked up at him with those big eyes that made his insides bubble and she furrowed her eyebrows up at him. "It doesn't make me uncomfortable," she promised, and to prove it, she reached out and placed her hands on either side of his neck, letting her thumbs rest on his cheeks. He resisted the urge to lean into her touch. "So, you ready to kiss me, Weasley?" she questioned, her words betraying her thoughts, and she flashed him a grin.

All of her hopefulness that, maybe, the kiss wouldn't ruin everything, broke away when George hesitated, shaking his head softly. Her smile faltered and her chest clenched. "Not really," he confessed, pouring salt in the wound.

Ouch. She forced a small laugh, ignoring the way a feeling of hurt splintered through her body. and she tilted her head up at him. "It's just a game, right? It doesn't have to mean anything," she said, hoping to coax him into something quick, because it'd be much more embarrassing if he refused to kiss her in front of all of their friends, who were so adamant on the fact that they were in love with each other. It was pretty far-fetched and awfully one-sided, apparently.

Unbeknownst to her, George was screaming at himself inside his head. He knew it was just a game, he knew it didn't have to mean anything, but bloody hell, he wanted it to. He wanted it to mean something. Y/N wasn't the kind of girl you could just kiss and forget about it. If he kissed her he'd be thinking about it until his hair turned gray. "No, Y/N/N, it doesn't feel right," he whispered, hoping she would pick up on the emotion in his voice, but he knew he'd been asking too much when he saw the look that flashed across her face. He felt awful.

So did she, but for entirely different reasons. "Why?" she whispered, tears pricking in the back of her eyes, but she swallowed the knot in her throat, because how she knew how embarrassing it would be if she cried and he didn't kiss her. "Is it just me?" she asked, her mind suddenly racing. "Is there something wrong with me, I—"

She started in on a ramble and George didn't like where it was headed, because it wasn't her. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her, it was just him. It was all in his head. He shook his head at her quickly to cut her off. "No, no, I just—" He sighed. "I don't want it like this," he confessed, a bit louder than he intended to and Y/N's eyes widened.

"What?"

George would've given anything to just stop the game at that point. He was digging a hole for himself that was gonna be real hard to climb out of. "No, I just meant—" Fucking hell. "I—"

He couldn't even finish. Y/N's hands were starting to pull themselves off of his face slightly, her fingertips the only parts of her touching him, now. Honestly, she thought she might be sick. "George, what does that mean?" she asked, not sure if he'd confirmed what everyone had been saying about them all along or if it was just freakishly bad wording.

Too bad he didn't help much with figuring it out. Instead, George shook his head at her. "It doesn't mean anything," he said. "Let's just get on with it."

Before she had a chance to say anything else, George slipped his hand over her cheek, sliding his fingertips into her hair, and he crashed his lips onto hers. When she felt the warmth of his mouth, she almost felt the world stop turning on its axis, and her hands travelled down to his chest, balling up around the fabric of his sweater as she kissed him back. Y/N's heart was soaring as George tilted her head, finding it easier to kiss her at an angle so their noses weren't brushing together. George kissed her with all the passion he could muster up, his stomach flipping as he did, because if this was going to be the first and last time he kissed her, he needed it to be good. He needed to leave her mind reeling.

A couple more seconds passed, before he forced himself to pull away. It took everything in her to keep from pulling him back in for another; their kiss had lasted the longest, anyways. She managed a small smile up at him, which he struggled to return, before they both walked back to their spots on opposite sides of the circle.

Y/N could hardly breathe as she replayed the kiss over in her head again, choosing to pass her next turn to Ginny, because the girl hadn't gone yet and she didn't think she could stomach another kiss with anyone, especially not after the one she'd just had with George. Her heart was still hammering in her ears and she felt like she was floating, still feeling the ghost of his hands in her hair, and even though she'd denied it for so long, she couldn't anymore. She was absolutely in love with that boy.

But when his earlier words settled in, she snapped out of her trance.

It doesn't mean anything.

Had he meant the kiss?

George wasn't doing much better on his side of the circle. In fact, he almost faked an illness to get out of the next round, knowing he'd be absolutely crushed if he had to watch her kiss someone else after that. The relief he'd felt when she passed it off to Ginny was insane. He didn't know where his relationship with Y/N would go from there, though. It was clear to him now that he was head over heels for her—he always had been, really—but the fact that he still couldn't get her off of his mind after a kiss just set it all in stone. He glanced up at her from across the group, his heart stuttering in his chest when he found her already looking. She flashed him that pretty smile and he panicked, averting her gaze, and he almost wanted to smack himself.

Merlin, he didn't know how he was ever gonna face her again when all he could think about was her lips.

—

When Y/N woke up the next morning, she didn't know what she expected the day would bring, but it certainly wasn't Fred sitting in the seat beside hers in Transfiguration. She had walked into the room, ready to smile at George and start talking about their mornings like they usually did, but she felt a bit nervous when she saw that he'd switched places with his brother instead. George was on the other side of the classroom, partnered with Lee Jordan for the day. He watched her as she came in, but before she could even wave, he looked away.

She furrowed her eyebrows, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach, as she walked up to her desk, earning a close-mouthed smile from Fred as she sat her bags down. "Morning. How's the head?" he asked, tapping his index finger to the side of his head and she let out a huff of amusement.

Y/N took her seat next to him and she rested her elbow on the tabletop. "Fine, I didn't drink enough for a hangover," she told him and he nodded once, flicking his quill and watching it circle around his ink pot mindlessly. "Not that complaining, but how come you're not in your normal seat today?" she asked, glancing over at George. He was already looking at her from across the room, his lips set in a slight frown, and she tried to smile at him, but his eyes flickered to his paper before she got the chance. What was with him this morning?

Fred swallowed. "Not sure," he said, though she got the feeling that he was holding back on her. "He said he and Lee were talking last night and it felt like they haven't seen each other in a bit. Wanted to trade for the day," he elaborated and she nodded.

For her sake, she hoped that what he was saying was true, but as they progressed through the day and George had switched his seat in all of the classes they had together, her hopes were dwindling. It was weird not having him there to make her laugh when the lectures got too serious, but Fred was a close second for the time being. He was just as skilled in the art of comedic relief, but he was a lot less dedicated to his assignments than George was. He would nudge Y/N with his knee and ask her for the answer so often, she finally just angled her parchment towards him.

It wasn't to say that she hadn't enjoyed her time with the oldest twin, but by the end of the day, she was more than ready to be back with George the next morning.

It was just her luck, though, that she wound up with Fred the next day, too.

And the next.

And the entire next week, actually.

It wasn't until Y/N was sitting in the library with Hermione and Ginny that she decided that she'd had enough of it. "I just don't understand what his deal is. Like we kissed, I was there, but there's no need for him to keep tiptoeing around me, you know?" she ranted, tearing her eyes away from her open textbook and leaning back in her chair. "I mean, he barely looked at me after it happened and he's barely looked at me since, and I feel weird. It just doesn't feel right to not be next to him all the time," she continued, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear and letting out a sigh. "Anyways, what was the question again?" she asked, after taking in Hermione's amused smile and Ginny's look of disgust.

"It was just about the Summoning Charm, but I think we need to wait on it," Hermione answered through a small laugh. "I thought you said you didn't mind the time away from him," she hummed, dipping her quill back into her ink pot.

Y/N let out a sigh and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, I didn't, when I thought it was for a day," she explained, her mind trailing back to that first moment of truth in Transfiguration. "He wanted to spend time with Lee and I knew it would've been selfish to act like I was his only friend, so I was fine with it, but now, he's not treating me like I'm his friend at all," she continued, emotion churning in her stomach at the fact that she hadn't spoken to him in a week and a half. Every time she tried, he just walked away before she got to him or made up an excuse to leave. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't the least bit hurt by it.

"No offense, but what made you think you'd just go back to being friends after that night?" Ginny asked, sticking a ribbon in her textbook to mark the page and flipping it shut. The girl leaned forward, resting her chin in the palm of her hand.

Her eyes widened at the question. "I mean, it was a only a kiss."

Ginny shot her a look. "You're a right liar," she singsonged, a smirk playing on her lips, and she glanced at Hermione, who wore a similar smile. "I think you forget we were there, too. Witnessed the whole thing, actually," she said, scrunching her nose up a bit as she did, and Hermione let out a laugh. "I was a bit worried you'd rip his jumper off in front of us, if I'm being honest," she teased.

Y/N felt her face go hot and her jaw dropped. "I would not have ripped his—"

She was cut off when Ginny shot up in her seat. "Look at your face!" she whisper-yelled, in order to keep Madam Pince's attention off of them, and she pointed her finger. Her cheeks only darkened at that. "You're mad if you think your kiss was friendly. It was the most heated one in that whole game." Maybe there was a bit of truth to her words, because as she recalled, the kisses following were nothing but light-hearted pecks.

"She's got a point," Hermione joined in. "You've been in love with each other for years. I just know you poured months worth of feelings into that kiss," she said.

Y/N could feel her heart fluttering inside of her chest as they spoke and she replayed her kiss with George inside of her head. The way she'd grabbed onto his sweater and pulled him closer to her, the way his hands had been tangled in her hair, the way her toes had curled, and the way her stomach had done summersaults made so much more sense now. He'd kissed her with so much emotion, so much passion, and she'd kissed him back with equal need, just wanting him to know how much she loved him without saying the words, but maybe that's why it was bothering her so much to be apart from him now.

Because he hadn't picked up on it.

"Well, you've seen him," she said. "He's kissed girls before, so what makes me any different? Plus, he's a passionate person, maybe that's all it was," she protested, the feeling that she'd fucked everything up still swimming in her bloodstream.

The girls shot her a look. "You're different because he cares about you," Hermione said, her tone softer now. Y/N looked down at her words, her head spinning slightly as she wondered whether or not it was true, and the young witch placed a hand on top of hers. "You don't see the way he looks at you when you're not paying attention, or how he talks about you when you're not around. He's so taken with you," she explained.

Y/N wanted nothing more than to believe her, but she'd wanted this—wanted him—for so long that it seemed too good to be true. She looked up from her hand, ready to rebut her words, but Ginny stepped in before she could. "If only you could see him on holiday when you're at your parents'. Absolutely hopeless, that one," she explained, but she couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. "'Y/N loves this', 'Y/N would like that', and 'I wish Y/N was here'. Oh, and I can't forget my favorite: 'Where's the owl, I've got to write to Y/N', while he's barreling over Ron and Percy in the kitchen. It's quite funny," she explained.

Y/N's heart pattered quickly and she felt a little breathless as Ginny talked about how George was at home. "He does all that?" she asked quietly, chills spreading through her body.

Ginny nodded. "Mum can't wait until you two get together. She's dying to have another girl in the family," she explained, and Y/N couldn't help but smile. She was starting to think that even though George had always felt so far out of her reach...

Maybe he wasn't.

—

George and his possible feelings for her had stayed on Y/N's mind through the rest of her study session with the girls, and as she'd sat in the dining hall that night for dinner, she still hadn't been able to get him out of her head. She'd picked at her food with her golden fork absentmindedly, rolling a potato back and forth across her plate, and she'd barely eaten anything by the time everyone was heading back to their common rooms.

"I was thinking we'd get Snape again," Fred said as he walked with her back to the Gryffindor tower, talking to her about who he planned to slime next. She loved the guy, really, but she'd spent almost all of her time with him in the last week and a half. She'd sat with him in all of their classes, hung out with him during their free period, and he'd even taken to eating all three meals of the day with her. She knew that he was just trying to help, to take her mind off of his brother for the time being, but with the whole identical twin thing, it really just made her miss George even more.

Fred was great, but he wasn't the same. Fred wouldn't hug her so tight that all of her doubts would dissolve in thin air, or keep a protective arm around her at all times, or kiss her forehead. He wouldn't sneak into her dorm for a late night chat on her mattress, or talk about what his future would be like with her, or make her feel special like George did.

In fact, she was quite sure that Fred didn't even know her favorite color.

Y/N could still hear Fred talking, rambling on about his strategy to set up his bucket in a place where Snape walked through frequently, but she was hardly listening. She was too busy wrapped up in her thoughts, wondering why George had just completely shut her out. In the beginning, he would at least send her a longing glance or two, but now she got nothing.

It just didn't make sense, especially not after what Ginny had told her earlier.

"Does George love me?" she asked all of the sudden, the words leaving her lips before she truly had the chance to process them, and she cut Fred off mid sentence.

He nearly tripped over his own two feet, before he looked over at her and laughed softly. "Does George, my idiot brother, love you, the girl he spends all his bloody time with?" he asked, making pointing gestures with his hands and furrowing his eyebrows slightly. She nodded at him, pressing her lips into a thin line. "Are you blind? 'Course he loves you," he assured her like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and it could've been, honestly. He was a bit surprised that she'd even asked at all, but then again, he forgot how clueless she was on her own.

Y/N let out a sigh at Fred's answer, because it wasn't worded the way she'd wanted it to be, not that she knew what that was, but it just didn't satisfy her. "No," she groaned, running a frustrated hand through her hair as they walked. "I mean, is he in love with me?" she asked, looking over at him with pleading eyes.

Fred shot her a look, before he nodded once. "Yeah," he hummed with no hesitation and she felt her heart rate pick up. "I know what you meant," he elaborated, and she blinked at him, forcing her gaze to where they were walking again

"Really?" she asked quietly, almost breathlessly, and Fred nodded again. "Ginny wasn't lying?"

"Guess not," the redhead hummed, scratching the back of his neck. "I mean, everyone knows. We've known you two were mad for each other for a while now. I've got bets on when you're getting together," he confessed, a teasing tone laced in his voice, and her eyes widened. Had she really had him this whole time? She wanted to hang her head against the wall for being so oblivious. If she had known sooner, she might've done something about it.

It might've been too late, now, though.

She'd gone and muddied everything up.

Y/N swallowed thickly. "If that's true, why's he been ignoring me lately?" she asked.

Fred looked over at her with tender eyes and a small smile. He'd been expecting her to ask that for a while now, but it was about time. "Look," he started as they started up the stairs in the corridor. "George isn't so strong and courageous like me, you know," he started, not seriously, but it still made her roll her eyes. "He's nervous and soft-hearted, which I'm sure you've picked up on." She definitely had. He was definitely a gentler force than Fred, like a soft rain to his brother's thunderstorm. "He gets his feelings hurt easier, he overthinks things, and he's so very oblivious, love. Sometimes you just need to tell him what's on your mind straight up," he said as he led her up to the portrait of the Fat Lady. He muttered the password to her and she swung open for them. "This is one of those times."

She wasn't really sure what Fred had meant by all of that. All she'd done was kiss George in the midst of a stupid, teenage game, she didn't understand how she might've hurt his feelings or made him feel like she didn't want to be around him, because that was all she wanted. All the time, too. She nodded her head, regardless, and followed the boy through the portrait hole. "So, what am I supposed to do?" she asked as they walked further into the common room. She was about to get her answer from Fred when someone slammed a book shut. Her eyes flickered to the couch in front of the fireplace where George seemed to have been studying.

George had been there all night, waiting for her to come back from dinner. He'd decided that morning that he was sick of wallowing in his thoughts about what had happened all those days ago and he missed talking to her, missed being with her. It'd been painful for him to watch her spend all of her time with his brother instead of him, like it should've been, especially when they'd looked so cozy together at the party, but as he watched them walk in together, her cheeks just as pink as they had been that night, irrational anger spread through his body.

He'd closed his textbook loudly and stood up, no longer in the mood to speak to her, or Fred, for that matter.

Y/N's eyebrows furrowed and her lips parted as George stormed past in a fit of anger, her protests lost on her tongue, and she swiveled back towards Fred. She'd never seen George like that, and she wanted to call after him, but she couldn't find the words so quickly, and she didn't want to just abandon Fred, but—

He cut her thoughts short with a nod towards the portrait hole as George disappeared through it. "Go. Tell him how you feel," he encouraged her, sending a sudden wave of confidence through her body. It spread through her nerves and left goosebumps in its wake, and she nodded.

Y/N flashed Fred a small smile, before she took off after George.

—

Y/N wasn't quite sure how George had gotten so far in such little time—she'd chalk it up to his long legs, maybe—but when she found him, he was pacing back and forth in an empty corridor a few floors beneath the tower, carding his fingers through his red hair as he immersed himself in his thoughts. He hardly even noticed she was there until she stepped a bit closer to him. "What the hell is your problem, George Weasley?" she started, the confidence that had been building up when she'd come after him having turned into pent-up annoyance.

His eyes shot up from the floor and he rolled his eyes when he registered that it was her. "You know what?" he asked breathlessly, more to himself than her, and he let out a bitter laugh. "You're my bloody problem, Y/N," he snapped and it was like a lash from a whip.

She flinched at his words, feeling the sting despite the distance between them, and all of that fire she'd had a moment ago dissipated. In all of the time that she'd known him, he had never spoken to her like that, even when he was angry at her, he'd never called her the problem. He'd never jabbed at her like that. Her eyebrows furrowed and her chest clenched as she looked at him, his face contorted in exasperation. "I'm your problem?" she asked, her surprise masking the hurt. "I don't even know what I did to you," she continued, acutely aware of how hard her heart was racing and how knotted up her stomach felt.

George wasn't doing much better. He was quick to shove the sleeves of his uniform up to his elbows in frustration, bringing his hands to his tie and loosening it up, because he felt so warm all of the sudden. He knew he was being stupid and overreacting at something that probably wasn't even happening, but he'd planted this seed in his own head at the party and he couldn't get it out. He'd made a mistake switching seats with Fred that day, because seeing his twin make her laugh like he did stung. It was like he'd provided her with his own bloody replacement. He hated it.

It wasn't her fault that Fred inevitably became everyone's favorite after some measure of time, but he figured that for Y/N, maybe it'd been the couple of years she'd favored George. "I haven't stopped thinking about it, Y/N, okay?" he blurted, running his hands up his face and through his hair, and he could see the look of blatant confusion on her face. She was about to open her mouth and ask him what he meant, but he beat her to it. "The kiss," he explained, "because I felt something and I thought you did, too, but then, I'd see you with Fred and I wouldn't know what to tell myself," he confessed and it made her head spin.

Y/N's eyes widened at his words and she practically gaped at him. "Wait, Fred?" she asked, almost wondering if she'd heard him right, because she hadn't even realized that Fred was a factor in this. George nodded once and she sputtered out a laugh in disbelief. "Hold on, what makes you think Fred—"

"You've been ignoring me for him for days!"

Oh, he did not.

She reeled back in disbelief, steadying herself against the side of the corridor. "Me?" she repeated, pointing to her chest. "Don't you dare try to put this on me when it was your idea to swap places with him in the first place! You've been avoiding me, you idiot," she yelled, her voice echoing through the hallway, and she would've been surprised that Filch hadn't dragged them away if she wasn't so worked up.

"How is it all my fault when you've barely reached out?" George retaliated, taking a few steps closer to her, and she wanted to pull her hair out.

"I'm not going to waste my time chasing after someone who can't stand to be near me," she explained, "And I didn't know how you expected me to fix this between us, okay?" she said, her voice cracking over the question and she sighed. She tilted her chin up so she could blink back tears, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. "I'm sorry, George," she added, all the anger in her voice having fallen away. She didn't want to fight with him anymore, she just wanted things to go back to normal, and if that meant taking the blame for the entire situation, then so be it.

George felt his heart sink at that, his eyebrows knitting together. "Wait, so you do want to be with Fred?" he asked, the volume having lowered in his voice. She shot him a look of disgust, quickly shutting down his theory about his brother. "For what, then? Kissing me? I don't understand," he continued, his stomach twisting as he spoke, because he hoped it wasn't that, either.

Y/N pushed herself off of the wall slightly, reaching out to take one of his hands in hers. Her heart took flight inside of her chest at the feeling, as it was the first time she'd touched him in what felt like forever. "What? No, I'll never be sorry for kissing you, it's just," she paused, glancing down at the space between his shoes and hers, "Ginny told me you loved me and I just— I was going to try George, I swear, but then you freaked and ran out and—" she cut herself off, pulling her hand back from his and shoving it into her hair. "I should've tried harder, I guess, and maybe—"

George hardly heard anything after he'd heard that Ginny ratted him out. With wide eyes, he couldn't help but ask, "She told you?" His throat moved as he swallowed thickly. "Godric, I'm gonna—"

"No, it's a good thing," she said quickly, pulling her hand out of her hair and holding it out in front of her almost defensively. "I'm just sorry for being so bloody clueless and too worried that you wouldn't feel the same way I did to not tell you," she confessed, and George pinched his arm behind his back to make sure he wasn't dreaming (he wasn't). "And if you're still worried about Fred, I don't care about him, okay?" she blurted, before she realized how it sounded, and her eyes widened. She covered her mouth briefly. "Okay, I do, but not like I care about you, I mean, Fred isn't even an option. Merlin, nobody else is even an option, because it's you, George. I..." she trailed off, staring up at him in search of any sign that she shouldn't say it, that she shouldn't tell him, but all she found was a look of anticipation, and she couldn't help but smile. "I love you," she whispered, tears prickling in the spaces behind her eyes, and she reached out to grab the hem of his sweater.

George didn't say anything immediately, or even for the next minute. He just took a step forward and looked at her, his mouth opening and closing like a fish until he figured out what he wanted to say. "So, that's it, then?" he hummed after a while and she nodded. "You love me?" She nodded again and he smiled slightly, his heart feeling like it might explode. "I reckon I still need you to prove it," he whispered, taking another step closer to her and forcing her to take one backwards, her shoulders pressing against the wall.

She couldn't help but shake her head up at him as he slid one of his arms around her waist, her hands reaching up to cup his cheeks. His skin was warm in her palms and he leaned into her touch, his eyelids fluttering shut, and she brushed her thumbs over a spray of freckles. "I really do love you, Georgie," she whispered and his breath hitched in his throat. With that, Y/N pulled him down to press a kiss against his mouth and this kiss was less eager than the last. There was no question that this wouldn't be their final kiss together, so there was no rush.

George's lips were soft and his kiss was slow, and sweet, drawing her in with every peck. He leaned her back against the wall softly, tilting his head as his mouth slanted over her own, and he braced his arm on the wall above her. After he let her slide her fingers into his hair and thread them through it for a bit, he pulled away gently, his brown eyes staring into her own, and he smiled.

"I love you, too, darling."

↴

author's note / this was a long one, but i think it was worth it. tag list in the comments! :)

[honoredbastard]

such pretty tears, baby boy ♡

“does this get you off?”          “MGH! y/n please-”     “ah ah ah-”   

✻ ˒ ໍ CHARACTERS ♡ bonten!mikey, bonten!rindou haitani and sadist gn!reader. all above the age of 20. they’re all timeskipped.

✻ ˒ ໍ CONTENT/KINKS ♡ NSFW, EDGING, TYING, OVERSTIMULATION, Y/N BEING A soft SADIST-(?) MASOCHISTS, BOTTOM, BOYS, GIVE NO REICIVE. drug/addiction mention(s). MENTIONS OF PET PLAY.

✻ ˒ ໍ A/N ♡ Y’ALL SADISTIC GN!READER HAS ME BY THE NECK-. i don’t know how to write rindou nor smut well FORGIVE ME GODS OF SMUT- it’s just a little drabble thingy ma jig that really couldn’t be kept in my drafts for too long- manga spoilers? draken will be next time? also toy/gear mentions.

::  ִֶָ MANJIRO “MIKEY” SANO 𓂅

sex with mikey was usually nice, lazy, and quiet. on other days he’d devour your body like a starving man, but in reality he was a little on the frustrated side. sexually. at times he’d be away for business purposes as he’d tell you and leave sanzu or rindou to be your bodyguard. as for rindou you appreciated his company, he didn’t talk to you much but the times you’d cook for him ( he loves your cooking, bad or not this man will devour it in full. so will ran, ran is just all smiles and eating. burnt food? doesn’t bother him. ) and/or just a small conversation was enough for you to smile. although sanzu was a different story, the top trusted bonten members and mikey all shared a loft, including you. so it didn’t take a lot of time to understand sanzu’s.... addiction.

it didn’t bother you much but whenever you came out of your shared room with mikey, he’d stare. just stare at you calmly, sword or gun in hand. sometimes he mistook you for his s/o, other times he was too high to think straight and was sprawled out on the couch. half of his body melting into the floor. you wondered how he could do that comfortably. 

but that didn’t matter anymore, mikey was arriving home soon and you snuck around to grab some things around the house. a rope (thank you high sanzu for complying and ordering one), a ball gag, a small paddle that shouldn’t hurt too much, and a blindfold. all things you ordered off the internet after studying in secret for weeks.

when you were alone, lonely, and sexually frustrated you stumbled across bdsm and kinks. of course mikey had kinks and interests that he’d expressed to you which you happily indulged in them. ( his spanks hurt, but they make mikey’s hips thrusting against you afterwards 10x better. ) at the time you just believed you were a maso with a bratty side and mikey had to many kinks to list that left you both in undying pleasure.

all until you were alone all over again, sanzu drunk and on whatever drug he smoked or popped this time. you were free to do as you want. a little on the dangerous side when your boredom stretched for hours on end when sanzu was sober enough to recognize your sneaking presence. at times he’d play along and sneak up behind you ( he’s too good at this when he has his sanity tbh ) and whisper in your ear “what are we hunting this time?” “OH FUCK!!” you’d scream and on reflex threw a fist at the man, who’s arms blocked his face and your fist. “sanzu!” you groaned, heart thumping against your chest like a race horse.

“i’m sorry.” you voice strained, scared that you fucked up this last time with sanzu and he was tired of it. “it’s fine, it’s fine. i’m the one who scared you. sooo... whatcha sneakin’ about for?” he grinned, leaning closer to your face. his eyes felt like he could see your lies before you’d come up with one, so you just told the truth.... parts of it at least. “i didn’t want to wake you and i got ordered stuff that i wanted to use online and i was gonna go get it!” 

sanzu’s face that was inches apart from yours leaned away, he smiled politely before trotting back to the couch. “all good, just wanted to make sure boss’ partner wasn’t meetin’ other gang members. y’know?” his body practically melted into the couch, eyes flicking between you and the t.v before getting comfortable. “you know i would never, sanzu!” you grinned, he shrugged, eyes already half-lidded. 

yup, he was about as stable as a dizzy ram for a few minutes there. you sighed and marched your way to outside where two small boxes were stacked above a bigger box. those were all toys- anal beads, a small paddle, dildos. you name it, you ordered it. you could already fantasize it- mikey under your touch, tied to a chair with every. single. part of him.... exposed. your body felt a shock through it, biting your lip to remain calm but it was hard for your ideas to settle.

you could already feel a knot building in your stomach that you had to get out badly. mikey would be a couple hours right? when you arrived to your shared space with mikey, you put the boxes in the closet and searched for something of his. something that smelled of him, that made you tingle in all the right places. you found a familiar black shirt so you took it, plopped onto the bed and held it in one hand while the other went to town on yourself. you began losing your mind from the pleasure as you started edging yourself - falling into a fantasy of your own.

mikey body was wearing ropes like clothes, you were staring him down with a smug smirk. eyes slow and attentive, it made mikey twitch when he watched. toes curled when you licked your lips, biting down on your cheek to stop you from devouring him right there. no no no, you had to have your fun. you inched closer to him, eyes never leaving his.

the man unable to speak was bontens number one, his life was right there for you to hold in your palms. you were aware of this, but you treated him like he was another civilian. he, of course, allowed you to. your hands brushed his untouched cock that was dripping with precum, “excited already?” you asked, licking the pent up contents.

mikey, who was gagged, nodded quickly before your warm tongue dragged itself from his base to his already flushed tip. playing with the slit for your own amusement while he tried to buck his hips to no avail. you were aware he’d try to get himself into your mouth, lure you into his trap where he has his way with you and not the other way around.

“ah-ah-ah.” you shook a finger at him, a teasing yet playful tone, your hand wrapped itself around his veiny shaft, slowly but surely raising the speed with each bite you placed on his pale thighs. he twitched and squirmed as he neared his release till you slowed down at the peak moment. you could hear his frustration through his muffled pants and whimpers. your fingers rubbed back and forth across his slit before placing a thumb there.

you looked up at mikey who’s cheeks were redder than a tomato, you kept looking while your mouth neared his inner thighs. you placed hickeys, ran a nail from the inside his hip down his thigh which made him squirm more. his skin flinched at the odd feeling, then you did it with his cock.

that sent him into an odd feeling of pleasure that made his toes curled, breath hitch, and eyes squeeze shut. raising yourself from the ground, you sat onto his lap with open legs for taunting him. “should i remove that ballgag? hmm?” you questioned, blowing into his ear before biting at the lobe. “so sanzu can hear your pleasure as i play with you to my heart content?” you licked behind his ear, his head jerked back slightly - free rain to kiss up and down his neck.

 “i’m not letting you cum till you cry for me.. slut.” you clicked in his ear, he shivered at your dominance over him. 

I’M GOING TO HELL FOR THIS ONE EVEN IF IT’S SHITTY LMFAO-

::  ִֶָ RINDOU HAITANI 𓂅

sex with rindou was about a mix of everything. it was like those ‘god making me’ tiktoks you’d stumble upon every-so often from your pure boredom. at times you were allowed to go to bonten meetings and overs you weren’t. ( rindou is keen on protecting you from the heavy shit he sees too often. especially if those meetings are fucked up. ) so when you weren’t either someone who was already informed like koko or ran which rindou trusted more than anyone to watch over you, to be your bodyguard. 

the problem was, rindou didn’t touch you in the places that craved being touched. your bottom half was aching to feel his hands again, to become red, fading into purple and blues. aching afterwards but getting the best aftercare, you were treated like royalty after you let rindou have his way with you. you even missed his breeding kink that would never end and left you in a shaking mess.

yet although all the offers and signals you threw at him, he brushed you off. now this was getting on your nerves. very much on your nerves. so you set up a plan: overstim and edge your boyfriend beyond compare. you’d give him the best aftercare for a price. you were going to have your way with him, of course you’ll ask for consent and walk him through what you’d do to him. but after that the power exchange was all yours.

you’d both mutually set up on a safe word and if either of you couldn’t speak properly you set up a safe signal. rindou was invested in bdsm and you too, became invested into it. which may have flipped your sadist switch. the idea was to tie rin up or to a chair. you had plenty of gear ( both pet and non pet play ) and way too many restraining gear. which excited you of all the things you could do.

although you knew one thing for sure. you were going to play with his cock till it ached and tears were burning into his cheeks while you tried your way at humiliating him. he’d done this to you many times, restrained you, made your nipples harder than him. it was everything.

when you peered out of your room you saw ran sitting at the dinner table concentrating at something. “should i pester him?” you questioned aloud in a hushed voice, “hm? oh is that you, y/n?” “yes?!” you felt like you got caught, your voice was high pitched and confused which made ran laugh. “at ease, come on over here.” following his orders like a dog, you stumbled your way over to ran awkwardly.

you stared at the cards in awe, “are you playing by yourself?” “actually yes i am! would you like to play with me?” “sure!” you sat time with a smile, yyou seemed focused but your mind was somewhere else. far far away from the ground, it all played out with rindou’s loud moans and occassional grunts as your hand slid down his length. eyes flicking to him than the thing you were working so well for - applying your mouth soon after. though rindou failed your plans for his edging, you still went to town as he filled your mouth, riding his orgasim while you kept going. the pleasure becoming painful but it felt oh-so.... good.

                thanks for reading! <3 it was horrible but fun to write 10/10.                 rindou’s part sucked everything that i had worked on was                 deleted and i’m still pissed so it’s not great, thank you!