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plant-flwrs · 4 years

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house unity // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: this story has taken me so long and i feel like i’ve poured my blood, sweat, and tears into it. i love it a lot and you can really tell what i was watching/ doing in each sections lol. for example, the dramatic ending is courtesy of the heart wrenching sylvia plath poems i was reading earlier today lol :’) also i made the reader a ravenclaw because im a ravenclaw and i felt like it hehe. n e way! hope you all like it and pls leave feedback if you have any! like, rb, follow <3

summary: Fred Weasley and you have a bit of a love hate relationship, however, on Fred’s behalf its more love than hate. Dating a Ravenclaw would be a great stride in house unity, wouldn’t it?

(disclaimer: when i describe the differences in the twins i mean the actors! especially since she who shall not be named did not give us much about their physical differences >:/ i found the info from fandom.com so it may be wrong, but i went with it. also, i made up a few things for this story, like the annual Christmas ball)

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You wished you could enjoy some things as easily as your peers could.

You didn’t like most sweets from Honeydukes, you didn’t care for Quidditch, but you especially hated the Weasley twin’s pranks.

In your first year, just weeks after arriving at Hogwarts, you had met Fred and George. You had been unable to answer the riddle to enter the Ravenclaw common room, so you decided to take a walk around the grounds.

You just turned the corner to the courtyard, when a hard snowball hit you square in the face. The sheer force of it made you stumble backyards, and you barely had time to wipe the snow off your face before another one hit you hard in the back. You were unable to keep your balance and tumbled forwards. Your hands braced your fall and scraped against the rough stone harshly. Your palms stained the snow red as they began to bleed. You barely had time to nurse them before another snowball, this time the size of a Quaffle, plummeted onto your head. It pushed you face-first into the snow, and you recovered quicker, not wanting to stay there for any longer. You whirled around, looking for anyone who could have seen who did that. You saw two boys with flaming red hair running away, and you followed them.

You caught them just before they entered the castle, all three of you winded. They were twins.

“Did you see who did that? Was it you?” you had pried, and both of them looked giddy.

“What’d you mean?” the shorter of the two answered immaturely.

The other looked down at your hands and robes, seeing blood still flowing from your palms, and your stained tights. He glanced at his brother, who was still laughing about it all and shoved his shoulder.

“You git,” he mumbled to his brother, “she’s bleeding,” he took your hands in his and tried to wipe some of the blood off, only for it to stain the sleeves of his sweater.

“Oh, gross!” the shorter one exclaimed, backing away from the two of you.

“How did you two do that?” you asked, pulling your hands away from the kinder one.

“Bewitched ‘em,” the short one said arrogantly before his brother could stop him.

“You bewitched them to attack me?” you felt tears stinging your eyes and hoped the taller one wouldn’t notice that too.

“Well, we didn’t mean ‘em to go after you,” the kind one said quickly, trying to rub the blood out of his shirt.

“Yeah, but it was still a laugh,” the shorter one said, nudging his brother’s shoulder good spiritedly.

“Shut up, Fred,” he mumbled, obviously annoyed, “we’re sorry about your hands, we didn’t mean for it to happen, honest.”

Fred watched you silently as you swallowed hard, only able to nod at them, accepting the boys’ apology. You turned on your heal and went to the infirmary, hoping Madam Pomfrey could mend your cuts. You had wiped your tears all the way there.

In your third year, you had been told there would be a Christmas ball. You had been stuffed in a large room with the Gryffindors, and you bumped shoulder to shoulder with a boy who had long dreadlocks.

Professor McGonagall and Flitwick stood in the center of the room, a large record player was next to them.

“As some of you may know, there is an annual Christmas Ball here at Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall explained, looking sharply at the Gryffindors.

“Professor McGonagall and I have a tradition,” Flitwick said, casting a glance at the Ravenclaws, “of holding a class on how to dance properly at these events.”

“Think of it as charity,” McGonagall said devilishly, “we wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourselves.”

Flitwick stifled a laugh and moved his wand to turn on the music. Loud, old-sounding music blared from the ancient device and you looked confused at your teachers.

“Everyone, pair up!”

An awkward haze fell over the room of third years. None of you knew how to talk to the opposite sex, let alone dance with them. You turned to look around you, accidentally making eye contact with the Gryffindor boy with dreads. His eyes widened when they saw yours, and his friends behind you noticed. You looked at his friends, only to see Fred and George Weasley. You rolled your eyes at the two, but their friend was jolted forwards.

He bumped into you, Fred having pushed him lightly on the back.

“Go on Lee!” Fred shouted, laughing loudly.

People were moving to the center of the room in pairs, and Lee looked at you nervously. He held his hand out to you.

“Want to dance?” He asked you shyly.

You took his hand with worry, nervous about the wicked grin the twins had. That grin always worried you.

You let Lee lead you out to the floor, falling in line with everyone else. You both watched McGonagall looking around for a partner for her to demonstrate with.

Fred’s obnoxious laugh cut through the room, and her eyes landed on him.

“Perfect! Mr. Weasley, come be my partner.”

He groaned and moved forwards, his brother laughing loudly. Beside you, Lee had a wide smile.

“Place your hand on my waist,” she said flatly.

“Your what?” he repeated, his eyes going wide.

“My waist, don’t be daft,” she replied, moving his hand to the right place.

It seemed everyone’s cheeks had gone red due to stifled laughter. Lee bumped into you as he doubled over, not trying to contain himself.

In your fifth year, you were made a prefect.

You were hesitant to accept the position, feeling a bit tied down by the prat status that came with the responsibility.

Wearing your slightly dusted badge, you had never polished it like you saw Percy doing every second of his life, you led a group of Ravenclaw first years up the stairs.

“Right this way,” you shouted over their heads, making sure no one got lost.

“Who had the sense to make you a prefect?” Fred taunted, coming up from behind you and flicking your ear.

You moved to swat his hand away, but he had already jumped back.

“Shove off, Fred,” you shot him a glare and turned back to the children, “the stairs can get a bit confusing, so watch your step!”

Fred watched you admirably, noticing the way your voice changed to a sweet sound when you spoke to anyone but him.

“Yeah, watch the stairs!” Fred shouted, pulling you by your elbow onto a new staircase.

The steps moved away from the first years, taking you and Fred to the opposite corridor you wanted to go down. You looked down and realized how close you were to the edge. Without thinking, you grabbed onto Fred’s robes, pulling him closer to you. He tilted forward and nearly lost his balance, which would have sent you both down. He flung his hand out and firmly held onto the railing, suspending the both of you over the edge for a moment before he pulled you back up. You were close to his chest, still holding onto him until the stairs stopped moving. You hadn’t meant to close your eyes, but when you finally opened them you saw your group of first-years looking at you from the other staircase, seeming absolutely terrified.

You leaped from Fred’s embrace, sending him stumbling back a bit. You marched up the stairs to loop back to the first years and heard Fred calling after you.

“Going so soon?” you heard his laugh echoing off the walls of the room.

For most of your life, your interactions with Fred Weasley were that simple. Maybe once a year you two would spit some insults at the other, and be on your way, not to speak to each other until next year.

However, when you walked into your Transfiguration class, late by a few minutes due to your prefect duties, you felt a punch in the gut when you saw flaming red hair.

The punch in the gut was increased tenfold when you saw that the only empty seat was next to the flaming red hair.

Breathing deeply and sending a fake smile his way, you sat uncomfortably next to Fred.

It would have been difficult to tell them apart, but your observant eye had always been able to. Besides a few odd growth spurts they were prone to, George usually came out the taller of the two. Fred also had a small scar on his left eyebrow.

“Oh hello, prefect,” Fred said lazily, drawing back in his chair and folding his hands behind his head.

The bottom of his shirt rose a little and you willed your eyes to not look at the toned bit of stomach that peeked through.

“Weasley,” you said, pulling your textbook out of your bag.

“Looking forward to your new prat duties?”

“More than I’m looking forward to sitting with you,” you pushed your hair behind your ear and out of your eyes, Fred stared at the side of your face.

“Always so charming,” he finally drawled, leaning forwards and tugging his sweater down.

Something about Fred always made you want the last word, the last laugh.

“Only for you, Fred.”

In professor McGonagall’s opinion, Fred Weasley had the littlest appreciation for time of all the students she had taught.

He wasted his time in the common room, in the Great Hall, and in the hallways.

Even during her Transfiguration class.

He was happy to spend his time with what he thought was shamelessly flirting with you, and McGonagall was happy to embarrass him while he did it.

“Mister Weasley?”

Fred turned to look at McGonagall’s severe face. Before he could say any excuse, insisting that you were talking too, she waved her wand at his desk. His book flew open to the right page, and a force that was not his own was pushing his head into the book. His hair fell in front of his face, and you could tell he was fighting against the spell McGonagall was using.

Fred seemed to be tamed by McGonagall after that and didn’t bother you for the rest of the class. On the way out, he held the door open for you. He called out to you in the hallway.

“Good luck with that weird rash, Y/n!” you felt your cheeks burn furiously as laughs sounded off in the hallway. You turned to see Fred watching you walk away, and lifted both of your middle fingers in the air to him.

“So classy!” he called back.

“Shove! OFF!” you yelled, shouting over the now deafening laughter in the hallway.

You were already dreading the upcoming months.

You were right to, for class with Fred did not get any easier.

You traded your thin tights for thicker ones and your light dress shirt for a heavy sweater. Your blue scarf was wrapped tightly around your neck, and you didn’t bother to pin your prefect badge on it these days.

“Miss, y/l/n, you must remember your badge,” McGonagall said as you came into class.

You looked down at your scarf, patting your robes until you felt the metal. Lifting up your scarf and showing the professor the badge underneath it, you gave her a reassuring smile.

She nodded approvingly and waved her hand, you moved to your seat.

Before you could put your things down, Fred was looking at you. You could hear the gears turning in his head, thinking of something presumably rude to say to you.

“Weasley,” you said first, hoping this would inspire him to stop looking at you.

He blinked at you, before smiling and turning back to his textbook.

“Today, we’re going to be learning a vanishing spell,” McGonagall started.

You had already turned to the page before she told it to you, you had read through the entire textbook over the summer.

You heard Fred scoff next to you, but ignored him.

Looking down at the directions in the book, you had remembered your successful attempt at making one of your father’s shoes disappear. He had been so proud of you, he didn’t care that he only had one brown Oxford instead of two.

“How did you do that?” Fred asked, watching as you easily made the rat in front of you vanish.

“Practice,” you said absently, turning your head to look back into the textbook.

Fred began to try the spell himself, his focus on the goblet he had taken from the great hall. He did the right wand movements, but his pronunciation was all wrong. You watched as the spell rebounded off the goblet and hit his tie, making the bottom half of it vanish. His hand flew to his chest, his mouth curved in a disbelieving grin when he didn’t feel the point of his tie.

“Well, bloody hell, that could have been much worse,” he gasped out, pushing his hair off his face and leaning back in his chair.

You couldn’t help the small nervous laugh that escaped your lips, but you were able to stifle it quickly. Fred had noticed your smile and glanced at you, happy to amuse you.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit, Fred regaining his composure after nearly vanishing himself. You pretended to read your book, but you had already read the page dozens of times. You wanted an excuse to not talk to Fred.

“Ever going to turn the page?” Fred asked from beside you, and you became very aware of his eyes on the side of your face.

“I’m absorbing the information,” you replied flatly, keeping your head in the book to hide your blush.

He laughed, sitting straight in his seat. He seemed to be attempting the spell again. You bit your lip as you watched him practice, wondering if you should correct him so he doesn’t hurt himself.

He had just begun to say the spell when you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Wait!” he glanced at you and your hand on his shoulder, smirking at you.

“Yes, darling?”

You rolled your eyes and felt the urge to gag. Your face crinkled in disgust and Fred smiled.

“Your pronunciation is wrong.”

“Well go on then,” he said, urging you to continue.

“Evanesco,” you said simply, but Fred’s eyes wrinkled in confusion.

“That’s what I’m saying,” he said, turning back to the goblet but lowering his wand, “Evenesco.”

He had replaced the ‘a’ with an ‘e’ sound, but he hadn’t heard it, you supposed.

“It’s ev-an-es-co,” you said slowly, placing your pronunciation on the ‘an’, “you’re saying ev-en-es-co.”

His eyebrows raised, finally understanding. He repeated it to you slowly, and you nodded your head when he said it right.

He smiled confidently, casting the spell on his goblet. The goblet turned foggy, and Fred could wave his hand through it like it was a ghost.

He sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“This is miserable,” he groaned.

You waved your wand and said the verbal part of the spell, finishing off the goblet. It completely disappeared and Fred let out another groan, rolling his head back in annoyance.

“You’re miserable,” he said to you teasingly.

You looked at him through your lashes, your brows furrowed, “Whatever, Fred,” your face grimaced in annoyance, “I’m just trying to help, your welcome, by the way.”

You pulled your bag onto your lap and began to pack up your books.

Fred let out a sigh like he was going to say something. You turned to him, but he merely shook his head.

“Forget it,” he said, seeming to be at a loss of words.

You stood from your seat the second McGonagall dismissed class, leaving Fred at your shared desk.

“She’s totally into me!”

“She hates your guts, mate,” George said, pulling his lips into a thin-lined sympathy smile.

Fred scoffed and shook his head, his long hair falling over his forehead.

“You don’t get it,” he pressed, determined to make George see.

“She looks like she wants to throw herself into the Forbidden Forest every time she sees you,” George replied, determined to stop his brother from future heartbreak.

“Whatever, just you watch,” Fred said, tossing his Quidditch broom from hand to hand and looking at the massive stands above them, empty for the practice, “in a few weeks she’ll be in one of those seats, cheering me on.”

“He’s lost it,” Harry mumbled to George as he walked past, baffled by Fred’s dazed look.

George nodded hastily, following Harry away from his lovesick brother.

Fred was not often detoured by anyone’s cautionary guidance, so the endless warnings from George slid off his ego like melted butter.

Fred had spent so much time in the last Quidditch match with his eyes glued to the Ravenclaw student section, looking for you, that he had barely hit any bludgers the entire game. Oliver had some tasteful words for him in the changing rooms, but it was no worse than his mother’s screaming.

You were not at the Quidditch match, you never were. You had always used the advantage of the empty castle to go to the kitchens. The elves were the only ones left there, and you liked talking with them. Some times Luna would join you.

It seemed you and Fred were going opposite directions while searching for each other at the same time.

No matter how many cookies Dobby shoved towards you and Luna, you could not get Fred out of your head.

You thought about his arms wrapped around you on the stairs, you thought about the way he could always make your cheeks burn, and you thought of the way his eyes poured into your face like it was the only thing he’d ever seen. You hated him. He was rude, arrogant, and annoying. He ran around your head constantly.

McGonagall had some choice words for Fred that night after the match. The sulking from the loss had been toned down, but the hushed sounds of Oliver’s feet pounding against the floor in his bedroom could be heard all the way from the common room.

“Where is Wood?” she burst through the portrait hole, still in her robes she wore to the match.

“He’s upstairs, why?” Harry replied, looking nervous.

“I need to have a word with him,” she cast a glance at Fred, “and his methods of training his beaters.”

Fred and George both shot from where they sat on the couch.

“What?” George yelled.

“Don’t take that tone with me, Mister Weasley,” she squinted at them, “whichever one of you was looking around at the Rave-” she stopped before she could finish her sentence as if she had an epiphany.

Her pursed lips twisted into an evil looking smile.

“You know, Mister Weasley,” she took a step towards the boys and spoke to them only, “dating a Ravenclaw would show great strides in house unity,” Fred’s eyes bulged out of his head and George was already turning pink with laughter, “perhaps then you could focus on Quidditch again.”

George was nearly purple due to lack of air, and Harry’s mouth was agape in shock as McGonagall whisked her robes and swiftly climbed back out of the portrait hole.

“What is she on about?” Harry asked George.

Fred flopped onto the couch and covered his face with his hands. His life was over. If McGonagall could catch onto something like that, couldn’t you? You hadn’t started to flirt back, and Fred was beginning to wonder if George was right about your feelings towards him.

Soon enough, George was spouting everything McGonagall had said before he could catch his breath. He told anyone in the common room how much you hated Fred, and how much he desperately fancied you. Fred figured there was no use to stop him, because once again, if McGonagall could catch on, couldn’t everyone else?

Sunday morning was always rough for you. You pulled your heavy quilt closer to your cold cheeks, hoping for the sun to go back down and the weekend to restart. It never did.

You slipped on a pair of jeans and a tight turtle neck. Still feeling the cold air of the castle seeping through, you pulled on a sweater over the turtle neck. You tugged on some wool socks and pulled the fabric of the shirt as high up your neck as it would go.

You and Luna had plans to go to Hagrid’s hut today, he had promised her some magical flower seeds he had found in his garden. You liked to spend time with Luna, she was an easing presence and you always knew how to talk to her, even if most people didn’t.

You clutched an old muggle novel to your chest, hoping to trap some of your body heat. The hallways were surprisingly crowded for a Sunday morning, and you glanced at your watch, seeing breakfast had just ended.

You noticed that a lot of students with red ties were looking at you oddly. They would see you and smile widely, as if you were a new friend to them. You kept your head down until you met Luna in front of the great hall.

“Did you hear the news?” she asked before she even greeted you.

“What?”

“I just saw Harry, he said McGonagall told Fred to ask you out.”

You laughed, expecting her to do so as well. She didn’t and her face stayed stoic. She began to walk outside.

You were locked into place for a second before you jumped into line with her.

“What?” you repeated.

“Harry told me-” she began, but you waved your hands, cutting her off.

“No, I heard you, but what do you mean? What did McGonagall say?”

Luna had to have finally gone loony.

“He told me that after they lost Quidditch yesterday, she came in looking for Fred, she said he was quite distracted during the match,” she said, looking dreamily at you, “and she said something about how dating a Ravenclaw would be great for house unity,” Luna finished, toying with the tote bag at her side.

“Why did Harry think the Ravenclaw had to be me?” you asked, thinking there was a huge misunderstanding.

“Oh, well,” she said like she had forgotten a large part of the story, “after George heard what McGonagall said, he lost it. Harry said he laughed so hard he cried,” Luna giggled to herself while imagining the sight, “and he told everyone in the common room that Fred fancied you.”

Your face turned bright red with anger and embarrassment. The entire Gryffindor house had been laughing all night because George said Fred fancied you.

You were about to burst into protests, insist that it’s not true, but a gaggle of second years wearing red ties all pointed at you, talking among themselves.

You stepped towards them, making sure your prefect badge was visible. You watched their eyes flash down to the blue pin, and back up at your face, eyes wide. They scurried off and you fell back into place with Luna.

“That was rude of them,” Luna said, looping her arm with yours.

“Yeah,” you said quietly under your breath, your mind cloudy with thoughts.

You and Luna walked quietly out to Hagrid’s. You glanced up and saw the last person you had wanted to see.

Fred and George stood at the point where the path diverged to the Quidditch pitch and Hagrid’s hut, throwing a little flame-like ball to each other, bouncing it off their arms, feet, and chests. A small group of some younger kids had huddled around them, ‘ooing’ and ‘awing’ at each pass.

Fred had a large smile on his face, and the sight of it made your stomach churn with nerves.

You ducked your head down, hoping you and Luna would pass without a problem. You would not.

“Hi Fred,” Luna lifted a hand to wave at him, and the small light fell onto the ground as Fred saw you, “hi George.”

George smiled evilly at the sight of his brother nervously looking anywhere but you.

“Fun looking game your playing,” Luna said, trying to stop to talk, but you dragged her along.

“See you later Luna, Y/n!” George called out to the two of you, the laughter obvious in his voice.

“Why didn’t you want to talk to them? You could have asked Fred about what Harry said,” Luna asked you soothingly, looking at you curiously.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, feeling very overwhelmed, “it’s weird. I don’t even know what happened but the thought of it is so weird,” you paused, trying to grasp the words, “I mean, Fred can’t like me. We detest each other, its fun.”

“Well, do you like him?” she had asked the one question you were avoiding.

Fred had always been a thorn in your side. Ever since you met him he was rude. He never apologized for anything, he laughed, poked, and prodded at you for his own amusement. Yet, whenever you saw his soft-looking hair, you swallowed hard. When he inched closer to you, even just to whisper something rude, you felt your chest tighten. He looked at you, and you could swear he actually cared about what you were saying. Maybe detest was a little strong, perhaps just annoyed.

Granted, he was a teenage boy, and you are a teenage girl, mixed messages are bound to be sent. You thought you had been clear with your messages to Fred, though. “Leave me alone,” nothing bitter, nothing kind, just the wish to be left alone. Of course, Fred did not read your message that way. The enticing message he got was more along the lines of: “I’m going to pretend I want you to leave me alone, but please, don’t. Chase me through the hallways, confess undying love for me, kiss me passionately”. Now, it is entirely possible that Fred’s interpretation was a little clouded by his own wants and wishes, but this did not stop him.

The talk of the castle, for at least the following school week, was you and Fred.

You had never been whispered about, pointed at, or thought of like this. Fred seemed to be enjoying it.

In class Monday, Fred pretended nothing had happened. He swung his arm over the back of your chair and waited for the look of disgust to flash across your face, which it did, and he chuckled to himself.

Soon enough, the whispers and pointing had subsided, and they were replaced by odd looks as if they were disbelieving of something.

Luna found you in the courtyard sitting under a tree and skipped over to you.

“You hadn’t told me Fred asked you out,” she wiggled her eyebrows, “officially.”

Once again, you laughed, but she did not. She sat in front of you, crossing her legs.

“Oh my-” you trailed off, lifting your head to look at Luna, “what’s happened now?”

“Hermione told me that Fred has been raving to everyone about how you’re dating.”

Your eyes were wild with disbelief. You couldn’t have even comprehended what was going on at this school these days.

“Well, no one’s told me that we’re dating,” you said, your voice riddled with annoyance.

In perfect timing, Fred, George, and Lee bounded from the school and out to the courtyard. They were laughing and shoving each other, looking to be having a great time.

You stood from the ground, dusting off your pants and walking over to the three with fury.

“Fred!” you called out to him, and he stopped and turned to you.

A look of fear flashed on his face, but he covered it with something else, was it admiration? Love?

You clenched your jaw and narrowed your eyes, stepping close to him. He tilted his head down to look at you, a small smile on his lips.

Around you, George, Lee, and Luna stood with their arms crossed, watching intently.

Your bodies were almost touching, and your finger stabbed into his chest.

“Who do you think you are?” you said in a hushed tone through gritted teeth.

Once again, Fred’s face fell for a moment, before he wrapped his arms around your waist in some sort of embrace. You squirmed from his touch and backed away from him.

“Who do you think you are?” you repeated, this time louder. George and Lee flinched from behind you.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” he asked sweetly.

Your face twisted with confusion, what is he on about?

“What?”

He continued, stepping closer to you.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked earnestly, moving to rub his hand on your arm.

He was trying to flip the script, make you feel crazy.

“Fred, you’ve lost it, really,” you replied, walking back to the tree to gather your books.

“Maybe when you’ve regained consciousness,” you walked back up to him, keeping your distance, “or the effects of whatever potion you took start to wear off, please try to explain what is going on.”

You walked away from them, leaving Fred with a wicked smile.

“Alright, see you later!” he called out to you.

You turned your head to look at him, your hair blew in front of your face but Fred could see your puzzled expression. His smirk grew wider and he turned to George, Lee, and Luna. They looked awfully concerned.

“Oh,” he placed his hands on his hips, “isn’t she great?”

You had gotten to Transfiguration early, your prefect duties switched for the week. You crossed your legs and placed a book on them, reading discretely while McGonagall was still in her office.

Just as she began to address the class, Fred strolled in, hands in his pockets. He slipped into the seat next to you and you bookmarked your page. You scooted your chair in and slipped the worn book into your bag, listening to McGonagall begin her lecture. Monday’s were often boring lecture days in Transfiguration.

You heard the screech of Fred’s chair on the floor, and in the corner of your eye saw him moving closer to you. He rested his elbow on the desk and placed his chin in his palm. He leaned close to you.

“Hello,” he whispered, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

You ignored him, dipping your quill into your ink in case McGonagall said something note-worthy.

“What’s ‘a matter,” he paused as if he was thinking of the most annoying thing to say to you, “darling?”

You audibly gagged, and his smile widened.

“What do you want?” you caved, asking him.

“Oh nothing,” he leaned back in his chair, still whispering to you, “just for you to be my girlfriend.”

You went rigid. Your face suddenly got very warm. You lost grip of your quill and it toppled over your ink, sending dark liquid across the desk and onto your white sleeve. You cursed loudly out of reflex and it caught McGonagall’s attention.

“Excuse me, Miss Y/l/n?”

Everyone turned to look at you and Fred in the back of the room, some people smirking. Fred stayed leaned back in his chair, watching you.

“I’m sorry Professor,” you stumbled out, wiping both the ink and your sleeve at the same time, making both things worse, “I just-”

Fred pulled his wand out from beside you and did a simple cleaning spell, you supposed. The ink receded back into its bottle and the stain on your sleeve disappeared. McGonagall watched him intently.

“Very resourceful Weasley, Miss Y/l/n, please don’t disrupt my class again,” she said curtly, returning to the lesson.

You heard a few snickers from your classmates, your face still a deep shade of red. You swallowed hard as you felt your heart beating in your ears.

Fred leaned forward again so his mouth was aligned with your ear.

“What do you say?” he whispered.

“What are you talking about Fred? Why are you doing all this?” you asked, straining to keep your desperate voice in a whisper.

“I’m only having some fun,” he replied as if he hadn’t been making your life a living hell for the past weeks.

You shot him a pleading look, and when he saw your flushed cheeks and watery eyes, his face softened.

“Hey,” he placed a hand on your knee, a knot formed in your throat and shivers went down your arms, “I didn’t mean to-” he trailed off and your jaw clenched. You returned your gaze to the front of the class.

“Listen, I’ve just been,” he paused, searching for the words, “I’ve been playing a sort of prank. On everyone but us.”

His tone was soft and playful as if he were letting you in on a secret. You supposed he was.

You raised your eyebrows, pressing him to continue.

“Well, George basically told everyone in our house that I fancy you, so I wanted to have some fun with it, switch it on them.”

You pressed your eyebrows together, still looking to the front of the room while Fred was inches away from your ear.

“I’ve told everyone we’re dating,” he said plainly, “house unity and all, as McGonagall said.”

“So that was true? What Harry told Luna?” you said before you could stop yourself, happy to finally get answers.

“Well, I don’t know exactly what Harry said, but I’m sure he didn’t leave anything out.”

“Why did George tell everyone that? That you,” you trailed off, feeling the words choking in your mouth, “that you fancy me?”

“Because I do,” he said quickly, and just as quickly moved on, “so what do you say? Want to be my girlfriend-” he paused, realizing what he had just said, “well, my girlfriend of sorts, not like my real girlfriend, because I’m sure you wouldn’t want to, and-” he stopped himself.

This time it was his turn for his cheeks to burn and his eyes to awkwardly avoid yours.

“Why do all this? Seems a lot for a joke that no one but us will laugh at,” you said, trying to ignore his confession.

“I’m willing to go to the ends of the Earth for a joke, my dear.”

Fred was dreadfully serious when saying that, and this became clear within hours.

Walking past the Dungeons and up the many stairs to your common room, you heard Fred call out to you.

“Wait up!” he was breaking away from a large group of Gryffindors, and all of them watched him with a keen eye,

“What, Fred?”

“Hey, that's not a very girlfriend-y tone,” he wrapped his arm easily around you.

You were sure it was meant to be sweet, but it felt a bit imprisoning.

“I never agreed to this,” you didn’t shake off his arm, but you felt inclined to. You were aware of the many eyes pouring into your back.

“I thought we had? Oh,” his arm left your shoulder, and you felt a little colder, “well then I suppose I could leave it all be, go back on my word, humiliate myself.”

His tone was a playful one, and you couldn’t help the bashful smile that reached your cheeks. You knew you had no obligation to Fred, but the whispers and gossip had seemed to subside during this new joke of his. You stopped at the landing, and the group of Gryffindors walked past you, staring at you both. Fred waved them off and nodded his head towards you, smiling.

“Why should I?” you clutched some textbooks to your chest, feeling grateful for the wall it put between you and Fred. He looked down at you, his hair falling into his forehead.

“Well,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets, inching closer to you, “as I said, I just think it could be a bit of fun.”

“Fun for you. What’s in it for me?”

“What? Besides utter fame and popularity from being associated with me?”

“Oh shove off, Fred,” you rolled your eyes at him, but once again could not help the smile that spread across your face.

“See? I’m growing on you already.”

“I’m still seeing no benefit for me.”

“Well, I do see where your coming from, but I’d like to raise another point,” he slipped a hand from his pants and waved it casually while talking, “I will indeed pretend like we are dating even if you don’t.”

“So essentially, you would just be flirting with me while I hurl insults at you?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

“Is that the image you want, Fred?” you teased.

You moved to lean against the wall behind you, and Fred trailed after you.

“Any image is a good one,” he winked dramatically at you.

You shrunk away from him and gagged, sending him into a fit of laughter.

“I hate it already.”

“So you’ll do it?” he asked.

You breathed in, looking at him seriously. His hazel eyes were dark in this light, his hair had gone a deeper red in the lack of warm weather and sunshine. He towered over you slightly, and you looked at him through your lashes.

Shrugging your shoulders, you agreed weakly.

Fred saw the error of his thinking almost immediately. Walking through the hallways with you, he felt his heart soar higher and higher each time you laughed. When you would loosen up, or walk a little closer to him. He was being awfully unfair to himself, making himself think that you had something, some sort of relationship. It was like dangling a treat in front of a dog and wanking it away right when the dog drooled.

He saw the flaming house, and still walked in, looking for a place to sleep.

“Why, hello,” Fred drawled, coming up from behind you in the hall.

You felt his hand snake around your waist, and he pulled you. Your feet twisted from under you and you twirled, turning to face him. Your hair had skewed into your face, and he watched your delicate hand reach up to brush it away.

You looked dazed as if you had a lot on your mind. He smiled down at you and you did your best to reciprocate it.

“Are you alright?” he asked, dropping his hand from your hip.

“Yeah, just-” you took a deep breath in, “just got a lot of homework, been a bit busy with my prefect stuff.”

This was not what was bothering you. You felt a lot of inner conflicts these days, an endless moody and angsty monologue sounding off in your head day and night. You felt odd. You felt odd for agreeing to Fred’s stupid plan. You felt odd for toying with him and yourself. You had disliked him just last month, and now you let him wrap his arm around your shoulder, let him hold your waist. You felt like a traitor to yourself, letting him win you over with a few charming looks. You felt even worse when you thought of Fred’s confession. He had said he fancied you, and the idea of pretending to date him didn’t alarm you for some reason. You hated the feeling of toying with his emotions or allowing him to live out some sort of fantasy. Everything about it made you feel awful.

You didn’t feel as awful, though, when Fred would call out a comment from across the dining hall that would make your cheeks burn and all the other girls swoon. You didn’t feel as awful when he would sit in silence with you by the black lake, keeping you company among the chilling wind. You didn’t feel as awful when he slipped little notes into your bag when you left Transfiguration.

You had enough, one too many genuine looks of admiration. You needed to tell Fred how you felt.

You caught him on his way back from Quidditch practice. He was trailing near the end of the group, huddled with George and Harry. He had some dirt on his forehead, and his cheeks were tinted pink. He smelled of grass and sweat.

You pulled your cardigan tighter around you, wishing you had brought your scarf. Your hair whipped in the wind around you, and you rocked on your feet.

You began walking to him, and when he saw you he smiled widely.

“Hey!” he called out, walking faster to meet you.

“Hi,” you said nervously.

“I’ll meet you guys back in the common room,” he told George and Harry, who glanced over their shoulders at the two of you.

It was dusk and he looked strikingly handsome. You felt like you were seeing him as a different person. He wasn’t the boy who bewitched snowballs to attack you, he wasn’t the boy who laughed at your scraped hands. He wasn’t the boy who shoved Lee at you, and he wasn’t the boy who awkwardly danced with McGonagall. He was the boy who held you in his arms, stopping you from falling over the stairs. He was the boy who looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, he was the boy who held you above anything else.

Your mouth was agape as you looked at him, he stood awkwardly waiting for you to say something. You looked at the ground, licking your lips and feeling them dry as soon as the cold air grazed them again.

“I wanted to talk to you,” you said quietly, hoping your voice would fade into the wind and carry you away.

“What’s up?” he looked down at you nervously.

“Fred, I-” he cut you off, placing a hand on your arm.

“You can’t do this anymore?” he looked deeply at you but you couldn’t meet his eyes.

You didn’t want to have this talk anymore, you felt content, suddenly, in pretending. You could both pretend to love each other until it wasn’t pretending. The lines would blur and soon, his kisses would come easily and his hands would have their place on you. You would touch his soft hair and know his eyes only looked at you. But you had already said the words, or rather, he did.

“I just,” you kicked the dirt beneath you, hoping he would finish your sentence again, he didn’t.

“I don’t think its fair,” you looked up at him finally and felt surprised to feel tears in your eyes, you blinked, forcing them to subside, “to either of us.”

You heard him gulp, and his eyes moved to look at the castle behind you. The candles had been lit and the stone glowed from the inside.

“I get it,” he said, removing his hand from your arm.

You looked down at where his hand had been and felt a tear drip down your cheek.

“Fred-”

He shook his head, pulling his mouth into a line. You stopped talking, feeling the words stuck in your heart.

You really wished you hadn’t said anything. You wished you could pretend again.

He walked past you, leaving you in the dusk. You hadn’t meant to, but a sob escaped your mouth. You heard his feet shuffle for a moment, and stop. He walked back to you.

He had finally been able to fall asleep among the fire, and it seemed you had come to join him at some point. He didn’t know when, but looking at you now, it seemed you had been burning for a while.

“What’s got you so torn up about this?” he said gently, stopping a few paces away from you, “Didn’t fall in love with me, did ya?”

A laugh fell from your lips at the same time another sob did. Your shoulders hunched over more, and Fred’s heart hurt him. He walked to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turned to face him, and you both moved at the same time. He pulled you close into his chest and your cheek pressed against him. He smelled, he was dirty, and he was tired, but he still held you tighter than you had ever been held before.

You pulled away from him after a while, coming to terms with yourself in the moment of affection. You wiped your tears from your face with your sleeve, taking a few deep breaths.

“I think,” you hiccuped, feeling it hard to speak, “I think that the pretending was too hard.”

Fred felt guilt wash over him. He felt guilty for himself, because you had said exactly what he was feeling. He couldn’t stand to pretend, to keep himself from gripping your hand, or from kissing you any chance he got. He wanted it all to be real, he wanted this wall between you to crumble into a genuine relationship. He felt guilty for making you feel this way. He felt guilty for pressuring you into this allusion of intimacy. He hadn’t stopped to consider if this would be negative for you, only insisting it would all work out for the best.

As he watched your uneven breathing and swollen nose and eyes, he knew this was not the best.

He breathed hard, forcing himself not to cry as he looked at you. George was supposed to be the sensitive one, but Fred had always been a sympathetic crier.

“Me too,” he replied, his voice sounding far, far away.

You looked at him, feeling terrified. The cold air was moving through you liked you were transparent. Tears kept flowing down your face, and no matter how fast you dried them, you only cried more. Your head felt miles away from your body, so you stepped closer to him, hoping to step closer to yourself too.

“I don’t think I want to pretend,” you croaked out.

He blinked at you, and you saw a single tear fall down his cheek. He didn’t move to brush it away, and it moved slowly. It left a clean mark on his dirt-stained face.

You took a step towards him, covering your hand with your sleeve. You cupped the back of his neck with one hand and brought your sleeved hand to his cheek. You wiped the tear and the dirt away, but your hand didn’t move. You peaked your fingers from your sleeve and they grazed his face. His eyes fluttered closed and your throat tightened as more tears poured from your eyes. Your vision was blurry as you traced his face, moving over his nose, eyebrows, and lips. You stopped to cup his cheek, and he leaned into your palm. You felt the wetness of more tears fall onto your hand, and you bit your lips, holding in a wretched noise.

“Fred?”

His eyes fluttered open, and you realized his hands had found their way onto your waist, he held you tightly.

“Do you want to pretend?” you asked him.

He moved his head from your cheek and kept his wet eyes locked with yours.

“I want you,” his voice was hoarse and sad, but that was all you needed to hear.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck and he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

The dusk had turned into the night, and you pulled away from Fred. You looked up at him and swallowed away the tears that remained. You began to walk past him and up to the castle. He followed you quickly.

You were scared. You had safety in pretending, knowing this was all something for fun. But as you looked at Fred now, you saw something deeper. You saw the threat of genuine love and connection, the threat of heartbreak.

Neither of you wanted to go without the other tonight, you had decided. You wordlessly followed him to his common room, and he slipped his hand into yours. You had both ducked into a prefect bathroom on the way there, looking at yourselves and covering your swollen eyes.

He said the password to a portrait of a large lady, and she looked suspiciously at you both.

“Are you two alright? You’ve just about missed curfew,” she said, her voice booming through the staircase.

“Yeah, we’re alright, just tired from practice, is all,” Fred reassured her, and the door swung open. He walked in first, and you followed.

You relished in the warmth of the spacious room, feeling drawn to the fireplace. You walked over to it and sat on a large couch. The room was relatively empty, a few kids hunched over books.

Fred sat next to you, still in his Quidditch robes. He grabbed your legs with his hand and guided them to rest on one of his legs, hanging over it. This angled your body to him, and he moved his arm to wrap around you.

“When did you realize?” he asked, his face lit by the fire.

“Just then, when you walked up to me after your practice.”

His chest moved with a chuckle and you moved your head to looked up at him.

“Well that's a little embarrassing for me,” he said, pushing a piece of your hair out of your face while you gazed up at him, “I've known since I met you.”

“Shut up, no you didn’t,” you said lightly, assuming he was trying to be some sort of romantic and inflating the truth.

“I did,” he said seriously, “I teased you for so long for a reason.”

“Because you’re an idiot?”

“Yes.”

You both laughed, pulling each other closer.

“And because I liked you.”

You rolled your eyes, sinking deeper into him. You felt yourself getting tired and you peered up at him. His eyes were half-closed and his face was drooping.

“Fred, you’re tired, why don’t you go to bed,” you began to move off of him, but he pulled you back.

“Only if you make me a deal,” he said mischievously.

“What?”

“I’ll go upstairs and take a quick shower, but only if you come with me,” he replied.

“I am not showering with you, pervert,” you smacked his arm and stood from the couch, blushing furiously.

He smiled and grabbed your hand, turning it to kiss your palm. You shivered at his touch.

“No, just come lay with me,” he looked up at you, suddenly serious, “I want to be with you tonight.”

Your heart sank to your stomach and you bit your lip. You couldn’t speak, so you nodded your head slowly.

Fred fished his wand from his robes and waved it towards the stairs, performing the counterspell for the stairs. You followed him up to his room, where he put his finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet. When he cracked open the door, it was dark and the curtains for the beds had been drawn. He crept over to a chest at the foot of his bed and looked at you before turning to its contents. He pulled out two large pajama pants, both plaid, and two heavy sweaters. He tossed one of each on his bed and took the others with him.

“Here, you can sleep in these,” he whispered to you, and it felt like you would blush forever.

He smiled softly at you before closing the curtains for you, leaving you to change.

“Oi, mate,” you heard someone’s annoyed and hoarse voice, “what took you so long? Practice ended an hour ago.”

“I was talking with Y/n,” you heard the bathroom door open, “I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow, I’m gonna shower. And don’t wake me up for breakfast tomorrow, I want to sleep in.”

You smiled to yourself, holding the soft sweater in your hands. It had a large ‘F’ on it, and you traced your fingers over it. You slid out of your jeans and folded them, placing them on the floor by the trunk. You slid on the pants he gave you and silently laughed as they easily ran past your feet and dragged on the floor. You folded them at the waist, and they were still too long. You had just slipped on the sweater when Fred slid open the curtain. He watched you fold your shirt and place it with your jeans. His eyes trailed from his sweater to the way his pants covered your feet. He smiled widely and drew you closer to him by grabbing your hips.

You looked up at him, your chests pressed together. He brought one hand up to your jaw, tilting it up to align with his face. His lips parted and so did yours, the air between you becoming a mixture of your breaths. His was minty, he must have just brushed his teeth.

His thumb grazed your bottom lip, and he finally closed the space between you. His neck craned down to you, but when you stood on your toes he was able to stand straight. You pressed as close to him as you could, and so did he. His lips were warm against your cold ones. He felt the many places that had been chapped and bitten, running his tongue over them slowly. You sighed and ran your chilled hands up his sweater, feeling him shiver beneath you. Your fingertips grazed the muscles on his back, tracing every line you could feel.

You pulled away first, sinking down to stand flat on your feet and rest your forehead on his chest.

“I’m so glad we didn’t pretend to do that,” Fred laughed out, pulling you close to him.

You smiled and hugged him, before moving to the other side of the small bed. You both slid under the covers silently, thinking that if either of you said something, things would suddenly be awkward.

The lack of bed only made him hold you tighter, and the two of you fell asleep relatively soon.

You were awoken by the sounds of laughter. The curtains were still drawn, and Fred’s arm was still wrapped around you. Your leg was resting on him as he laid on his back, hugging you close to him. Your head lifted from his chest as you squinted your eyes.

“No, he said he wanted to sleep in, mate,” you heard George say. The door opened and you heard footsteps walking towards it.

“You think they finally told each other?” Lee asked George, pulling on a wool hat.

“I hope so, bloody awful letting Fred think he tricked us,” George said before closing the door behind them.

You smiled and let your head sink back onto Fred. He stirred and pulled you closer to him. Through the fabric of his sweater, you swore you could hear the steady rhythm of his heart.

#fred weasley #fred #weasley #weasely family #fred weasley fanfiction #weasley twins #fred weasely fic #weasley fic #fred fic #fred weasley imagine #fred imagine #fred x y/n #fred x ravenclaw #harry potter #hogwarts #ravenclaw #fred weasley x reader

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talkfastromance4 · 4 years

Text

when i’m dreaming--calum hood oneshot

yeah so i’m going through something so this is very, very self-indulgent.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: drinking linked a little with coping, going through a depressive low, best friend!calum

feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

***

Calum notices something is wrong the minute she steps outside. He was about to take a drink of his white claw, but his eyes went to her nails when she pulled Crystal in for a hug. She typically paints them to match her mood and today they’re opalescent pink, barely noticeable but still there. In plain sight but still visible while she secretly wants to be invisible.

She smiles and cracks jokes with everyone she says hello to then when she steps in front of Calum, he sees the sadness in her eyes. They’ve been best friends for awhile now, they’ve shared secrets, stories of first loves and heartaches, their fears, their wildest dreams. But there was always something she kept hidden, tucked away in a box welded shut.

“Hey bud,” she sighs.

“Hey short stuff,” he grins playfully pulling her in for a hug. Her arms wrap around him and he makes sure to give her an extra tight squeeze.

“I’m not that short,” she grumbles in his chest.

“You’re shorter than me,” he reminds rubbing her shoulder with his thumb. Although her arms are loose around him he can feel the tension in her shoulders that she’s carrying.

“Stop hogging her! I haven’t seen her in weeks!” Ashton exclaims and Calum pulls away.

He knows it was too soon to break the hug but to keep up with her own façade he doubts anyone else sees, he does it.

“Hey, you’re the one who disappeared into the desert for all those weeks,” she jokes rising on her toes to loop her arms around Ashton’s neck.

He gives her a big bear hug that lifts her a few inches off the ground, Calum sees her nails digging into her arm as she squeezes him.

“Had to recenter myself, you should try it sometime,” Ashton teases right back. As if she was shocked, she removes herself from the hug then accepts a bottle of Mike’s from Luke.

“I can take something stronger than this, Hemmings,” she takes a large chug regardless.

“Yeah? Like tequila? I got some limes,” he jerks his thumb behind him towards the drink table.

“I said stronger not deadly. You know I can’t handle tequila,” she scrunches her nose.

Everyone else laughs but alarms are going off in Calum’s head.

“Yeah, the floor of my Tesla doesn’t like tequila either,” Michael chimes in with a tray of shots.

“I told you to pull over,” she shrugs lifting up a shot. She takes a whiff and nods in approval at his selected alcohol choice.

“I was going 75 on the freeway!”

“And that’s why I threw up. Ready?” she lifts her glass.

Calum meets her eyes as over the hands of their friends as Ashton gives an impromptu speech about friendship and long rides. He wasn’t really paying attention because when their eyes locked, he saw the panic, he saw the fear of whatever was going on in her head.

The next time he sees her is at the movies. Her eyes are darker along with her nails that are now a hunter’s green; camouflaged but still visible. While they’re waiting in line for snacks, he lifts her hand in his and runs his thumb over the color.

“This is a pretty color, I’ve never seen it on you before,” he says.

“Yeah, um…wanted to try something different,” she shrugs. “Do you want the blue icee?”

“Is that even a question?” he raises a brow, and she laughs.

Once they’re settled in the seats the previews start. Calum opens up the bags of sweet and sour treats while she opens the boxes of milk duds. The large bowl of popcorn (with extra butter) is settled between them, long red straws sticking out of their frozen drinks.

Throughout the whole movie, it’s an action romantic comedy, Calum keeps glancing at her. He watches her fingers disappear in the popcorn bowl, her hunter’s green nails appearing black in the dark theater. Calum’s seen enough movies to know this moment is foreshadowing the darkness she’s slipping into. He’s preparing himself for the fall but he’s not entirely sure she is.

Two weeks have gone by and he hasn’t seen her since the movie. Their schedules didn’t align so he decided to surprise her with takeout from her favorite Asian restaurant and chocolate cake from her favorite bakery.

When he opens the door, he hears Friends playing on her tv and he finds her horizontal on the couch. The hood of her sweatshirt is over her head, her arms wrapped around her torso, her black nails clutching the fabric.

Calum braces himself for what he’s walking into, sets the food on her counter and crouches in front of her. He pulls her hoodie back a little so he can see her face a bit better, her eyes are distant and staring off behind him.

“Hey,” he says softly then touches her hand. It’s very cold. “Y/N.”

Upon hearing her name does she finally look at him. Her eyes have filled and spilled with her tears in a matter of seconds. He links her fingers through his.

“Hi,” she mouths, her voice barely registering.

“Is this about…him?” he asks delicately.

About a year ago he chipped away at the welding on the box. He knows it involves a guy. He knows it’s about bad timing. He knows it’s about deep emotions.

She nods and the tears erupt more. She buries her face in her hands then adds another layer by hiding in the pillow.

“Nope, nope, hey,” he tugs on her arms. She’s pliant and allows him to drag her in a sitting position. He takes the place where her head was then brings her onto his lap. “I’ve got you, I’m right here.” He murmurs and pulls her hoodie down so he can rub at her hair.

She sobs loudly into his neck. Calum holds her as tight as he can, murmuring comforting words in her ear. Her sobs would subside, but he wouldn’t let go until she did. She’s very good at keeping her emotions at bay and even better at keeping people further away from her harbor. She doesn’t ask for help often, she doesn’t open up too much and when she does it’s always the footnoted version.

Three episodes of Friends later, her hold lessens, she gives a big sniff and peels herself away from Calum. He uses the sleeves of his shirt to wipe at her tears and nose.

“Have you eaten?” he asks, and she shakes her head. “I brought food. I’ll heat it up for you.”

She nods and falls back onto the couch. He rubs her knee then heads into the kitchen. When the food is prepared on plates he brings it to her and she takes it, scarfing down the first few bites heartily.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she finally speaks when her plate is empty.

“I know,” he nods looking over at her until she meets his brown eyes. “It’s okay.”

Calum ends up staying the night, his mind reeling from what the history is with this mystery guy. His thoughts get away from him as he stares at the ceiling above the couch. Was he some celebrity that kept her under the radar and broke her heart repeatedly? A Prince from some far-off country that got her hopes up and crushed them again and again?

He’s tossing and turning until he hears the shower turn on. Sad songs play over and over on her speakers, her voice singing along with the yearning words. Ghostin’ by Ariana and When the Party’s Over by Billie replay one after another.

She’s really hurting.

Calum bounds off the couch and opens the bathroom door.

“Y/N?” he makes sure his voice is a little louder than the music.

A sniff. “Yeah?” her voice is thick.

“Just want you to know I’m here,” he shuts the door and sits next to the shower.

His heart aches when he hears her crying again, the vocals echo and bounce off the tiles. Her sadness fills the room just as it’s filled in the hidden box of the guy who’s making her feel this way.

Four more repeats go by and the shower is finally shut off. Calum scrambles off the floor, sees her tug the towel from the door of the shower. Her shadow figure wraps it around herself and she opens the door. Her skin is red from the hot water, as are her eyes and cheeks from crying more tears. He grabs another towel and helps dry her hair while she stands there avoiding her reflection in the mirror.

“It’s been five years, why do I still feel like this?” she asks quietly.

“It hurts the most when it meant something.”

He left the bathroom after he dried and brushed her hair then waited for her in her bedroom. There’s pictures on her desk from high school. Her and some guy at prom. Her and the same guy a little bit older posing in a selfie on a couch, drunken smiles on their faces. Her and the same guy a little older again posed outside.

This must be from that box. She’s cracked it open and Calum is staring at some of the pieces that have broken her wholly.

“His name’s Henry,” she explains suddenly behind him.

Calum turns to her voice. The drastic change from the happy girl in the photos to the sad girl before him startles him. He remains silent to let her speak or to go into silence again. She moves onto her bed, sitting in the center and tucks her legs against her chest.

“We never dated. But we were always…together. Together in the physical sense for four years,” she continues. Calum joins her cautiously on the bed and listens. “Back and forth always. After every relationship we fell back into each other. He’s the longest relationship I’ve had, and it wasn’t even a real one.

“We cared about each other, and…I think he loved me. Time wasn’t on our side. It was too much or too little, I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Just when I think I’ve let go; I dream of him. Then he’s on my mind for days. And now this time…” she shakes her head and Calum pulls her against him. “I went on socials and I found out that he um…he’s a dad now. And I feel so stupid because that could have been me if we kept what we had. I feel stupid because a part of me wanted it to be me.”

Calum doesn’t fully understand the ins and outs of their relationship, but four years of physical affection and a rock to lean on, that’s a lot of history. He also doesn’t fully understand how this guy didn’t make it official with Y/N. She’s the perfect best friend with a big heart.

Calum wishes he knew her in school because he would have been the one to take her to prom. He would have been the one take her to movies and dinners and surprise her with flowers. He would have made it official rather than keep her guessing.

“I’m really going through it and I don’t know how to get out,” she whispers sadly.

“I think…” Calum heaves a big sigh and kisses her wet head. “I think you’re just cracking the surface of breaking free. I can tell he meant a lot to you and you meant a lot to him. Even if he never said it, you’ll always be a part of him just like he’ll be a part of you. Someone that important won’t just poof away.”

“But I want him to, it hurts.”

“I know it does, sweetheart. I’ll help you in any way I can, okay?”

“You’re so understanding and you’re so good, but I don’t want to cry over another guy when you’re here.”

“That’s what best friends do.”

She turns her head and gazes up at him. He notices the storm in her eyes aren’t as dark, her lips are chapped from the cracking of memories she spilled out.

“Calum, you’re more than my best friend.”

He hears a deeper truth in her statement, and it causes his breathing to quicken. The subtle yet very noticeable flick of her eyes to his lips causes him to react. He gives her a quick peck, but that smallest touch sent an enormous shock through his system.

They settle against her pillows, the kiss wasn’t awkward, but it filled them both with questions. Questions that will be answered at a different time because right now he wants to hear this most vulnerable part of her life. She takes his hand in hers first and plays with his fingers while she talks.

He makes comments and asks questions to try and understand a bit more. Calum kisses her head when her voice starts to shake. Hours go by and the sky starts to lighten, birds are awakening.

“Hey,” she says right as he’s about to fall asleep. They talked all night, but she quieted down about twenty minutes.

“Hm?” he opens his eyes.

“We match.”

He looks down at their intertwined fingers when she taps on his nail. His polish is chipped away from chewing on a hangnail then smiles at the black color. He lifts their hands and kisses their knuckles.

“I feel what you feel.”

“What exactly do you feel?”

“I felt you slipping. I can sense your emotions when no one else can, and I guess I painted my nails subconsciously because I didn’t want you to be alone in the dark,” he explains. She’s quiet for a moment and he thinks she really fell asleep this time.

“Thank you. I don’t think I’ll be this bad again.”

“If you are, I’ll be here. I’ll always be here.”

“Cal?”

“Hmm?” he sighs. It’s getting harder to keep his eyes open, but he doesn’t want her to stop talking. He doesn’t want her out of his arms.

“When I’m dreaming tonight it will be of you.”

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spine-buster · 4 years

Text

peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | two

A/N: Thank you guys for all the positive feedback on Part One! I’m so happy you guys are enjoying the series thus far.

CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.

* * * * *

Brock Boeser was intoxicated by the feel of Grace’s lips. It was all he could think about and all he could feel every time he was alone and closed his eyes. Well, that was a lie – that wasn’t all he felt. Sometimes he could feel the weight of Grace’s body on his lap, like when they would make out like teenagers on each other’s couches after hanging out or before hanging out or during hanging out – any time, really. Sometimes he could feel her long hair sprawled across his chest from when they lay in bed together. Sometimes he could hear her giggle or see her smile or hear her voice being the kindest, most polite and gentle person on planet Earth to everyone and anyone she’d meet.

For what it was worth, Grace Gillespie was intoxicated by the feel of Brock’s body. It was all she could think about every time she was alone, and she found herself dreaming about the next time she’d be able to feel it. His strong arms with his toned biceps; his abs, defined by a work schedule and sport that took up most of his time; his thick thighs…but what she loved most had to be his back. It was weird for her to say, but it was. It was the definition – she could see every muscle. She could trace every bump with her fingertips and make him shiver. The entirety, all of him, was just so…beautiful.

It was Grace who had inadvertently given it away, so to speak – them seeing each other – when she uploaded a story of herself at the Canucks season opener. The rumours started in no time. The story was screen-recorded and posted on every blog imaginable because Brock Boeser was, well, Brock Boeser. He was hot, and nice, and sweet, and every girl in Vancouver with even just a passing interest in hockey wanted to hook up with him. It was also compounded by the fact that in the 90s the Gillespie’s put in a bid to own the Canucks. Grace just tuned it all out. Brock Boeser Dating a Billionaire’s Daughter! Those who loved alliteration must have loved the headlines. In any case, there were more important things to worry about, and more important things to dedicate her time to.

Grace was at work when she got a call from Brock. That meant the team flight had landed and he was probably still at the airport or had just gotten into his apartment. She liked how her heart skipped a beat whenever he called. “D’you want to meet some of my friends?”

That question took her for a loop. “Who?”

“My friend Elias, but we call him Petey.”

“You mean Elias Pettersson?” she clarified.

“Yeah,” he giggled slightly. “He’s been fancying himself a chef lately. He lives with his best friend Svea. He wants us over for dinner.”

“Is he making Swedish food?”

“Don’t know. I’ll confirm with him. But is that a yes?”

“Well, if he’s cooking…”

***

“You told her what?”

“Petey—”

“Boes, I can’t fucking cook!” Elias exclaimed once it dawned on him what Brock had just done. “Why would you invite her here?!”

“I wasn’t thinking—”

“Clearly not!”

“What’s all the commotion?” Svea asked as she emerged from “her side” of the apartment, hearing the screaming between the two men. It wasn’t exactly new, to hear Brock and Elias screaming at each other, but it was usually over video games. This sounded like something different.

“Brock just invited his new girlfriend over to our place for dinner,” Elias huffed.

Svea furrowed her brows. “What’s wrong with that? We’ve been wanting to meet her for a long time, Elias.”

“Brock said I’d be cooking,” Elias deadpanned.

Svea turned to Brock with an emotionless look on her face. “Are you dumb?!” she exclaimed.

“Sveeeeeeaaaaaaaa,” Brock pleaded, his hands clasped together, about to get on his hands and knees in front of her.

“You need to fix this Svea. I can’t – I can’t – I can barely even boil an egg! What made you think I’d be able to cook a dinner to impress a girl I’m not even trying to impress?!” Elias demanded.

“Shut it, the both of you,” Svea said sternly, raising her hands slightly. “When is she coming here?”

“Saturday night, after our game against Toronto.”

She took a deep breath. “I’m going to make sausage stroganoff. You better bring me a good bottle of wine,” she glared at Brock, “and you better go to the Swedish bakery to get the good Swedish sausage,” she directed towards Elias.

Brock fell down to his knees. “Thank you Svea. Thank you thank you thank you.”

“Yeah yeah,” she waved them off. “Now if you’re going to play video games, keep your voices down. I’m studying.”

When he heard her shut the door to the den, Brock looked at Elias. “When are you gonna marry her?”

Elias huffed. “She’s my best friend, Brock.”

***

“So they’re best friends from Sweden,” Grace wanted to make sure she got everything right before she met Elias Pettersson and Svea Nilsson for the first time. “But you’re saying they’re in love with one another and don’t know it?”

“Exactly,” Brock nodded his head. “You’ll see it within, like, a minute of meeting them. They’re just…I don’t know, dumb.”

Grace giggled slightly as Brock pressed the number for Elias’s floor in the elevator. The doors shut and soon they were speeding up. “Does anyone else on your team know about us?”

“Some of the guys I’m closer with do,” Brock said. “Troy, Thatcher, Marky…they all know about you. Do your friends know about me?”

Grace snorted. “I told them about you after that first night at Starbucks.”

Brock laughed, leaning down to give her a quick kiss. “That eager, eh?”

“When you know, you know,” Grace said. “You know, don’t you?”

Brock nodded. “I know.”

That was the beauty of what they had going. They just fell in to everything. There was Starbucks, then there was exchanging of their numbers, then there were texts back and forth, and phone conversations, and the rush of everything else. It was quick but it was organic. Nothing was rushed. They were going at the pace they wanted to go. There wasn’t even a heart-to-heart sit down or discussion about “where they stand relationship-wise” or “Am I into this more than you?”. It was just…understood. They knew. They were exclusive. Neither was seeing anybody else. Neither wanted to see anybody else. It was what Grace knew a healthy relationship should blossom into. It was what Brock knew he wanted from another person.

Elias opened the door to the apartment, greeting Grace sweetly before walking them in to the kitchen and dining room, where the table had already been set – no doubt done by Svea, too. Grace noticed that Svea, the roommate, was the one cooking instead of Elias, and she was absolutely mortified. She made sure to make her way into the kitchen once Brock punched Elias in the gut about something.

“Hi I’m Svea,” Svea introduced herself sweetly as she was whisking a sauce in a deep saucepan. She had on an apron and everything. “It’s really nice to meet you. I’m sorry that I look like a mess right now.”

“I’m so sorry – Brock said Elias was cooking tonight because he fancied himself a chef – I didn’t want to put any pressure on you—”

“Oh no no no! Don’t worry!” Svea waved her off. “God, are you kidding? I wouldn’t want Elias to make you anything. He might give you food poisoning.”

Grace giggled. “So what’s on the menu tonight, anyway?”

“Sausage stronganoff,” Svea replied. “It’s a Swedish dish. Elias’s favourite, actually. I thought I should make you Swedish food. You’re not vegetarian, are you?”

“No,” Grace said, smiling from ear to ear. “Sounds delicious.”

***

“They’re definitely in love,” Grace said once she and Brock walked out of the front doors of Elias’s condo building. Brock turned towards her dramatically, his eyebrows raised, about to throw his arms up in the air. “It’s so obvious. So obvious.”

“I told you!” he exclaimed.

“Why aren’t they dating yet?” she asked.

“Beats the shit out of me,” Brock said, shaking his head. “But they’re meant to be together. It’ll happen eventually. I just don’t want to wait until I’m, like, forty to see it.”

Grace smiled, and there was a moment of silence between the two as they walked along the street. “Can I ask you a question? About things happening eventually?”

“Sure…”

“D’you want to meet my dad?”

The words hung in the air as Brock considered the magnitude of what Grace was asking him. “You want me to meet your dad?”

Grace nodded. “I think he’ll really like you,” she began. “And my dad always, always wants to meet my boyfriends.”

“So you’ve had loads of other boyfriends?” he quipped.

Grace went to punch him in the gut, much like Elias did just hours earlier, but Brock dodged her easily and ended up grabbing her hand instead. “Of course I’ll meet your dad,” he said, softer this time, as he stepped into her personal space and wrapped his other arm around her body. “I’d love to.”

“Listen, I know I don’t have to warn you about what you’re gonna see when you get into the house, but—”

“Shhhh…” Brock cooed, bringing a finger up to her lips before leaning down to kiss her. “When you want me there?”

“How does Sunday Night Football sound?”

***

Brock had never seen such a beautiful modern mansion so big in his life. He’d trekked up to North Vancouver, to the address Grace gave him, and came face to face with a mansion overlooking the water. It was stunning. Fit for a billionaire, Brock thought. He wondered if Grace grew up in this house or if it was new. It looked new. And judging by its style –a bungalow – it was fit for someone who needed access to everything they needed on the same floor. Someone living with Parkinson’s, of course.

He rang the doorbell. After about a minute, the door opened and an unfamiliar face greeted him. “You must be Brock?” the woman asked, the door still only half-open.

“Yes ma’am.”

She opened the door fully. “I’m Angeline. I’m one of Mr. Gillespie’s caregivers,” she informed him, stepping aside so he could step into the massive foyer. Brock could hear the TV on in the distance and the clinking of some dishes in a faraway kitchen. “You’ll also meet Dana and Michelle, Mr. Gillespie’s others. He’s been expecting you. He’s been very excited to meet you.”

Brock slipped off his shoes, making sure not to drop the bottle of wine he brought (for reasons unknown; it wasn’t like Hamish could drink – it was just that him mom taught him never to show up to someone’s house empty-handed). “Oh, really?” he asked.

Angeline nodded her head. “He hasn’t been quiet about it since Grace said it to him. Plus, he’s a big Canucks fan. Let me bring you to him.”

Brock followed Angeline through the house until they got to the family room. It was massive, like everything else in the house, with lots of space. When he walked in, he saw Grace and Hamish. Their backs were to him, so he was able to observe them before they saw him. Grace was sitting right beside him in his chair, holding his hand as they paid attention to the football game just about to start on the screen. Grace was making some comment about the teams. Brock could see Hamish turn his head slowly to look at his daughter and nod. Everything about the set-up – Grace, Hamish, their positions, what was on TV, everything – reminded him of he and his dad. Even the handholding. Brock didn’t think he even held his dad’s hand as much when he was a kid out in public than he had the last few months – few years, really. Duke was really into the handholding. Brock could never, would never deny him.

Brock was soon snapped out of his trance by the sound of footsteps. One of the other caregivers walked right past him holding a plate of puréed food, bringing it to Grace. It was only then that Brock noticed the TV dinner table beside her. “She likes to feed him whenever she’s here,” Angeline said, noticing Brock’s staring. “If you need any help you can always call. We will be somewhere in the house,” she said before walking away.

Brock took a deep breath and walked towards Grace and Hamish. Upon hearing his footsteps, Grace looked his way. The smile on her face widened ten times over when she saw it was him. “Hi Brock,” she said softly, getting up from her seat quickly to greet him. She kissed him quickly behind her father’s back (quite literally) before moving and settling back into her chair. “Dad, Brock is here to meet you.”

Brock stepped into Hamish’s line of vision. So that he wouldn’t have to strain his neck to look up, Brock bent down on his knees. “Hi Hamish,” he held out his hand for a handshake. Slowly, Hamish’s hand came up to shake it. “It’s very nice to meet you. Grace has told me so much about you.”

“It’s…nice to…meet you…too,” he said, his words coming out slowly but surely. “You…like football?”

Brock smiled. “I love football.”

“Minnesota?”

“Minnesota.”

A smile crept onto Hamish’s face. “Good.”

***

Hamish wanted ice cream, so Grace got up and went to the kitchen, leaving him with Brock as they watched the football game together. Minnesota was winning, which made her dad pretty happy. And despite everything, she could tell he liked Brock. She knew he would – everybody liked Brock, he was the sweetest – but it made her happy knowing that he liked him. There were some ex-boyfriends of hers that he didn’t like. Some ex-boyfriends he straight-up disapproved of. Hamish had strong opinions and vocalized them always, and the Parkinson’s didn’t stop that. He didn’t create a three-billion-dollar company by being quiet.

When she finished putting the ice cream in the bowl, she began to head back to the family room. Dana stopped her momentarily to tell her that her dad’s bed was ready, whenever he was tired and needed to change into his pajamas. Grace thanked her, and before she could even step foot into the family room, she heard Brock’s voice. “Back straight, Mr. Gillespie. And let me get the straw.”

She stopped in her tracks so neither could see her. She watched from the side as Brock took the glass of water her dad had been drinking with dinner and brought it up to his lips, steadying the straw so it faced him. “Take your time, Mr. Gillespie. It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Mr. Gillespie. I’m used to this. I’m not sure if Grace told you but my dad has Parkinson’s as well,” Brock said.

Hamish seemingly forgot about the water and straw. “He does?”

“Yes sir. And I help take care of him too, in the off-season. Just like Grace helps take care of you.”

Hamish brought a hand up slowly and placed it on Brock’s arm that was resting on the arm rest. “Does your father…ever speak…of his body…betraying him?”

Grace watched as Brock took a deep breath in. “All the time,” he nodded. “Ever since he got diagnosed.”

Hamish nodded slowly. “You and Grace…” he began, “taking care…of your parents. You’ll…you’ll look after one another.”

Brock nodded again, more assertively this time. “We will,” he said, bringing the water and straw closer to Hamish. He pursed his lips to start drinking, and Brock brought his other hand up to steady Hamish’s head and make sure it was as upright as possible. Hamish’s hand didn’t leave Brock’s forearm.

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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years

Text

Not So Dangerous Liaison - Sidney Crosby - Part 20

Word Count: 3,745

POV: Sid’s

Warngings: Language, Smut, NSFW but also kind of fluffy

Notes: It’s late, so no one will probably read this...haha But I’m putting it out there anyhow, because I need to hold myself accountable and I said I would post it after the Stars game. (Sidenote: I’m still upset about that loss) Anyhow, this is basically all smut. I was just in that kind of mood with Sid this week what can I say. As always love your feedback and Happy Reading!

Not So Dangerous Liaison Masterlist

Paris was everything you'd ever dreamed it would be and so much more now that you'd finally told (Y/N) that you loved her. Being there with her was like living out a fantasy vacation. The two of you spent the day soaking in the French culture. Holding hands as you went from exhibit to exhibit in the Louvre was everything, as (Y/N) shared your love of history. You weren't sure who was pulling who, into the next room to see each display. One of the most magical moments had to be when you were standing atop the Eiffel Tower, holding her in your arms and kissing her senseless. Though the one that stood out the most to you was standing inside Notre Dame Cathedral. Maybe it was the lighting at the moment, or the beautiful white summer sundress (Y/N) had on but you were overwhelmed with thoughts of her walking down the aisle towards you. Never in your life had you thought about marriage like you did right at that moment. You could picture her in this beautiful gown carrying a bouquet of roses as she stood amongst all your family and friends. Suddenly, you wanted to make this dream a reality, but you'd only declared your love for her a few short days ago. This was going from point A to Z in like sixty-second flat, but if there was one thing that you knew, it was how to work hard and see things come to fruition, and that started by making sure this was the best vacation that (Y/N) ever had.

The time in France had been jammed packed, for it seemed you two were always on the go. Though you did enjoy the long nights at the hotel where you spent making love to (Y/N) every and any chance you could get. She'd even been adventurous enough to have sex out on the balcony one night. It wasn't something that you'd normally do, but there was just something about this woman that had you wanting her anywhere and everywhere. Which neither one of you seemed to mind.

Thankfully, you'd booked a resort in the quiet town of Estepona, Spain, instead of Ibiza or Barcelona like you'd originally planned. The beaches were beautiful there and you enjoyed seeing (Y/N) just lounging on the chaise in her bikini. "Want to hit the water?" You asked her after closing the book you'd been reading for the last hour.

"Sure," she agreed and you both headed into the warm ocean. The waves caught you both up, as you frolicked in the sand and surf, both of you giggling. Every now and then a wave would crash along the shore almost knocking you both to the ground until you were finally able to drift beyond their breaking point. "This place is truly amazing Sid," (Y/N) told you as you swam closer to her, so you could loop your arms around her.

"You're amazing," you said nibbling on her ear which was only slightly salty from the water.

"Stop, you're making me blush."

"I like it when you do." Your hands roamed down her back to her ass, where you slid your fingers underneath her bikini bottoms before kissing her soundly on the lips.

"What are you doing?" She giggled as you attempted to pull those same bottoms to the side.

"I can't help it, you look so fucking sexy in this suit. I just have to…" you followed your words up by pressing a finger between her folds.

"Sid," she half moaned, half chided you. "Someone might see."

"Babe, look around. This beach is pretty private, for one thing, and for another, there are a couple women running around half nude." Europeans were much more liberal when it came to their sexuality then both Americans and Canadians, and you were one who wouldn't mind (Y/N) running around topless. Well, you might if you weren't by her side. "No one is going to pay any attention to us."

"But what if you're recognized or something?" You'd been lucky so far and only had a couple people come up to you in France and ask for autographs, hopefully, that streak would continue over the next week.

"No one even knows that I'm doing anything to you. Unless you decide to scream out my name. Which I'm not opposed to." (Y/N) shook her head at you, so to emphasize your point; you slid your finger deep inside her. She bit her lip to suppress the moan she so wanted to release. You continued to toy with her until she snuck her hand in your swim trunks and started to stroke your cock. "Oh, I see how it is."

"What? Two can play this game, Mr. Crosby." It was deliciously naughty to be doing this out in public with (Y/N).

"Mr. Crosby is it? I don't think that's what you called me last night." Her palm slid down your length then back up, twisting as she went and you had to grit your teeth together from the pleasurable sensations she was creating.

"Mmm, no I don't think it was." She pressed her cheek to yours, as she sucked on your earlobe. "Would you prefer Captain, or maybe Daddy, or…" She didn't finish that sentence as your thumb pressed down on her clit. Her head sank down to the crook of your neck and you thought she was going to bite you as she held back a groan. Your fingers worked faster and so did her hand, and soon she wasn't the only one stifling her moans. You were almost regretting this decision to have a little fun with her in the ocean, but then she was cuming and you were too and as your hips thrust into her hand you knew this would be one vacation memory neither of you would ever forget. "Fuck baby, that felt so good."

"More refreshing than the ocean?" She said with a little wink.

"Definitely," you kissed her then, pouring all the love you had for her into it. (Y/N) was truly one of a kind and you thanked your lucky stars, and the Fleury's, for bringing her into your life. She was exactly what you needed.

Over the next couple of days, you spent time at the beach as well as in Estepona. You took (Y/N) on a romantic carriage ride through the city streets one night, then ended up back at the hotel where you made love for hours. It was the following day that you noticed her stretching her neck more. "Babe, what's going on?"

"My neck's a little sore is all. I don't think it liked that one position you put me in last night," she said teasingly.

"Here let me massage it for you."

"Wait let me write this down because you never offer massages. It's always me giving them to you."

"That's because you're really good at them." You gave her a little wink then let your fingers rub her shoulder. "You're really knotted up."

"Yeah, but it'll work itself out eventually." She sighed contently as you worked on her muscles.

"We should get one of those couple's massages." You told her, thinking that it would be a nice way for both of you to relax. "I saw them mentioned in the brochure."

"You'd really be into that?" (Y/N) asked.

"I mean ya, if it means I get to lay next to you half-naked; I'm always in."

(Y/N) laughed before reminding you, "you know there's no 'happy ending' during these things. Well, that is unless it's different over here."

"The only happy ending I want is with your babe." You told her as you let your arms slide around her waist. "So what do you say? Should I book it?"

"I think you're trying to get out of giving me a massage once again, but I'm game. Make the call." You dropped a kiss to her neck before heading over and grabbing the phone. (Y/N) scooted into the bedroom to change into her swimsuit as the two of you had planned on going to the beach. After a call to the spa, they told you they would have everything set up in your room in an hour. You'd ask to have it there for privacy's sake and they were more than happy to accommodate you. "Babe, we've got an hour, then we've got to be back."

"Wow, you work fast," she said as she sauntered back into the living room area clad in a white bikini that had you rethinking going to the beach as well as getting those massages.

You grabbed at her waist and pulled her in close. "I'd rather work on you."

"Slow down there hot stuff. You are not getting me all….sexed up and then having someone else rubbing their hands all over me in an hour. Maybe after that hour."

"Sexed up?" You cocked your head in inquiry.

"You know what I mean." Her arms wrapped around your neck then. "You did it in the ocean the other day. We are PG until after these massages." She kissed you quickly, then slipped out of your arms before you knew what was happening. "Now are we going to the beach?" When you just stuck your lip out pouting, she added. "I'll let you put sunscreen on me."

It wasn't exactly what you were looking for but you'd take her up on it and see if you could sneak in a few kisses and feels here and there. "Deal." (Y/N) evaded all your attempts at seduction in your hour at the beach, which only had you frustrated and you hoped that you weren't sporting wood as you made your way back to your hotel room for your massage. It would be sort of awkward, but then again maybe that's what couple's massages were supposed to lead to. The room was draped in darkness as you made your way inside. Furniture had been cleared so that two tables could be set up. Rose petals were scattered all over the room with soft candlelight glowing and the relaxing sounds of the ocean playing in the background. It really was quite romantic and you found yourself pulling (Y/N) closer to your side as the masseurs introduced themselves. There was a female and a male, and you kind of wonder who would be doing who, for the guy was kind of muscular and handsome and you weren't sure you wanted him to be touching your girlfriend, especially the way he seemed to be eyeing her in her bikini.

After introductions were made, they then had you lay on top of the massage tables face up. Only a couple feet separated the distance between the two of you, so you reached out and grabbed (Y/N)'s hand, as the therapists began to work. Thankfully, the male masseur worked on you instead of (Y/N). You didn't realize what a jealous streak you had until the thought of some other guy touching her ran through your mind. "Feel free to talk to each other," the masseuse said as she kneaded (Y/N)'s shoulders.

It seemed kind of awkward to carry on an intimate conversation in front of strangers, so you stuck to just keeping things basic. "So this is nice, huh babe?" You threw in the word babe for the male therapist knowledge, letting him know that (Y/N) was indeed taken, not that he shouldn't know that given that this was a couple's thing.

"It really is. This whole vacation has been magical." She gave your hand a little squeeze. "I don't know how you want me to go back to real life after this."

"Well, we don't have to just yet. We still have a couple weeks in Cole Harbour, before heading back to Pittsburgh." You had your two days with the Stanley Cup coming up and while that would entail a little bit of work, as there was a parade planned as well as other things; there was also a big celebration that (Y/N) and your mom had been working on.

"That's true, though I'll be heading back before you."

This was news to you and had you almost rolling on your side so that you could face her. "What do you mean?"

"You know I have to be back on the twentieth to get things ready for training camp."

"Yeah, I'm going with you then." Had you forgotten to tell her that?

"Um…" she hesitated, weighing her words in front of the strangers currently massaging you. "You'll be mid training with Nate, so that's probably not going to work."

"I'll just train in Pittsburgh."

She turned her head completely so that she could look you in the eye. "We can discuss it later." The look on her face told you that there would be no arguing the point and you figured it was best to have this conversation when she was in a better mood. The two of you fell into a silence as what was supposed to be a romantic time to bring you both together now had this icy chill to it. The masseurs asked you to flip over and now you couldn't really even look at your girlfriend to gauge her mood. Instead, you started to work on a plan that would hopefully turn this time around. It was about fifteen minutes into your back rub that you sprung up from the table with an idea. You silenced the massage therapists with a finger, then wandered over by the phone grabbing the pen and paper and asking if it was possible for the two of them to leave you alone, but not let (Y/N) know. The masseur nodded his agreement a silent look passing between him and the masseuse working on (Y/N).

In a soft voice, (Y/N)'s massage therapist leaned down to her and said. "We're going to switch a moment. There's a knot that I just can't work out." (Y/N) hummed out her agreement, not moving and then the two quietly slipped out the door. You went to work, kneading the muscles of her back, hoping she wouldn't notice it was you. Years of getting massage work done on your body had taught you a thing or two, though you had to admit you loved when (Y/N) gave them to you more, hopefully, you giving her this one in return would win you some brownie points after your earlier discussion. You toiled over her upper body for quite some time before moving down to her legs. Folding the sheet up to reveal her lower half, you slathered more oil on your hands and let them glide up and down her calves working your way up her thighs. When her legs drifted slightly apart you couldn't help your hands as they traveled to her inner thighs. Each pass had you inching closer and closer to her core. All you would have to do is shift her bikini bottoms to the side, that or undo the strings, and she would be exposed to you. Instead, though, you moved your hands higher to ass, the sheet sneaking higher up.

By now you did have to wonder why she was letting some strange man touch her ass like this, but you still kept caress her globes, until temptation got the better of you, and you tugged at the strings. On your next pass of her bottom, you flopped the material down between her legs. This time letting your fingers slip between her folds. Fuck she was wet and now you didn't know if you were pissed that another man was turning her on or if your brain was just consumed with lust for this woman, but either way, you kept fondling her. You waited for her to tell you to stop, or more like the masseur to, but she didn't instead she just moaned. You couldn't help what fell from your lips. "Babe, why are you moaning?" Hopefully, it sounded like you were on the table next to her.

"Because I always do that when you touch me like that." She giggled then and you knew she'd found you out.

"How'd you know it was me?" Your fingers slipped out of her, as you were slightly stunned.

"I'd know your calloused hands anywhere Mr. Crosby." Damn, years of hockey had made your hands rough, and not nice and smooth like someone who basically bathed them in oil all day. She flipped over to her front. "But please continue, as I have to say it was quite an enjoyable massage. Do you promise a happy ending?"

"Oh baby, do I ever." You ran both hands up her legs, then moved so you were in the middle of the table, your fingers slipping down to her pussy. Taking your thumb and index finger you rubbed her outer lips together while your other hand caressed her breasts. This time when she moaned you took comfort in the knowledge that she knew it was you who was bringing her pleasure. It was easy to slip two fingers inside her with all the oil on your hands and all of the wetness on her cunt. You pumped them in and out her, your thumb flicking across her clit as you went. She spread herself wider for you, lifting one knee so you'd have more access to her. (Y/N) looked so beautiful laying there, glistening from the oils on her body and you told yourself then, that there was no way you were not going back to Pittsburgh when she did, for you didn't think you'd be able to stand being without her even for a few short weeks. Her cries brought you back to the present, and you slid your free hand to put a little pressure on her mons.

"Sid, please…" she begged and her hips started to rise which only had you adding more pressure. You worked her little nub furiously as your fingers thrust inside her. It didn't take long until you felt her pussy walls contract on your fingers, sucking them deeper inside her as she came. A rush of wetness followed and (Y/N) called out your name as the orgasm overtook her. God, she was beautiful, her body slightly flushed from climax and a sheen of both sweat and oil on it. If it was possible your cock became even harder at the sight. You watched as this euphoric transformation came across her face and took satisfaction in knowing that it was you that could make that happen to her. Her hand grabbed your wrist and hauled you close to her, so she could clamp her mouth on yours. The kiss was full of heat and desperate, turning you on even more. "Will this hold both of us?"

"I don't see why not, and if it doesn't, I'll pay for it." You stripped out of your swim trunks in record time before climbing over the top of (Y/N), and though you were confident in your reply to her; you still moved gingerly in case the massage table didn't hold up. Thankfully, it did as she wrapped her legs around your waist. The oil on both your bodies made it a challenge for her to keep the position but she did her best as your cock slid inside her slippery cunt. (Y/N) gasped at the feel of you. Buried to the hilt inside her, you almost came right there. It was like the first time that the two of you slept together and you loved that every time with (Y/N) felt new and exciting.

"Sid," she panted out, and you gazed down into her gorgeous eyes that were shining with love. "Please move…I need you." It was all she had to say, as your mouth came down on hers stealing both hers and your breath away before you slowly pumped in and out of her. She felt amazing as always, hips thrusting to meet yours as your tongues entwined. This was exactly where you saw this romantic massage leading. Well, maybe not on the actual table but this joining of your bodies and heart. (Y/N) had swept into your life and just made everything perfect and you wondered how you'd ever lived this long without her in it.

"I love you, so much (Y/N)." You felt the raw emotion in your voice and hoped she could hear it as well. They weren't just words you were saying to her, it was how you truly felt. You would do anything for this woman, give up anything as well, though she'd never ask that and you knew it. You needed her to know this but didn't know how to say it, so you let your body do the talking for you, thrusting deep inside her.

She arched her back in pleasure, though her eyes never left yours. "I love you too, Sid," and you felt it with every move of her body and gasp of her lips. You knew she felt the same way about you; needed you as much as you needed her. The first spasm of her walls milked you inside as you noticed her climax hit her. Her legs tightened around you, as they started to shake, and then she was there, pleasure cascading over her as the orgasm struck. You locked your lips with hers as she cried out and followed her down the path of climax, spilling your seed inside her.

There were endless kisses as you both came off the high and as much as you wanted to stay inside her forever; it wasn't the most comfortable position for the two of you on the small table. So dropping one last kiss to her lips, you slid out of the haven that was her pussy, lifting her up in your arms and carrying her to the bedroom. "What about returning all that?" She questioned referencing all the massage equipment in the living room.

"They'll be well compensated for waiting until tomorrow. I have other plans for us tonight." It was that way for the rest of your vacation. You couldn't get enough of (Y/N). The public displays of affection between the two of you were ridiculous, and if your teammates had seen it they would chirp you endlessly, but you didn't care. In fact, you had a feeling it would become something that happened regularly during the season, so you prepared yourself for the ribbing you would happily take.

#Not So Dangerous Liaison Series #sidney crosby #sidney crosby imagine #Sidney Crosby Imagines #Sidney Crosby Smut #Pittsburgh Penguins fanfiction #Pittsburgh Penguins imagine #Pittsburgh Penguins imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl smut #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey fanfiction #hockey smut

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prose-for-hire · 4 years

Text

Supernatural Activity

Pairing: Rupert Giles x reader

Request: omgggg „dont mess with the cat“ and its the baby monitor“ and giles, maybe? that would be amaaazing

Requested by: Anon

Warning: swearing.

c/n = cat’s name lol. I didn’t wanna assign a name you can do that! The cat is a boy though (sorry idk why I can change it if u want) 🖤🦇

You and Giles had moved in together. You had taken a while to find the perfect place, especially considering that you lived on top of a Hellmouth. A lot of properties were ridiculously good value because a surprising amount of suspicious deaths happened here. You had offered to move into the house he already lived in, but he insisted that you should have a house you could share that would be yours together.

You finally found one that was perfect, or what you had thought was perfect.

You had been relaxing one Autumn evening, in front of the fire that Giles had just got going. Your cat was relaxing on your lap as Giles slid into the seat beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You closed your eyes, inhaling his familiar scent that enveloped you with his hug.

You cosied up in front of the fire, wrapping your arms around his torso. You had more chance to relax around this time of year, Halloween was usually quiet and the younger people you usually helped out were busy going to parties and struggling with their social lives over the supernatural at the moment.

Giles had kissed the top of your head from the position you were in, now resting against his chest. You had been watching the television, or relaxing together with the tv on in the background. Except suddenly you heard this horrible noise. This crackling and popping. It was feedback. From some kind of device. A baby crying. Wailing for someone.

You squinted around, starting to get freaked out. Something wasn;t right. The room felt cold, despite your body curled up beside Giles with the roaring fire. You looked up at him and he didn’t appear phased. You sat up properly, looking around. Squinting.

“Giles…” You say slowly. Giles had stayed in the same position, looking towards the television feigning boredom but he appeared to be into whatever it was taht was on. You had to take the remote and mute the sound, “Giles can you hear that?”

“Oh, it’s just the baby monitor” Giles muttered after listening a moment, cleaning his glasses and smiling at you as if this were the natural conclusion. You squinted at him, looking around in confusion.

“Giles… we don’t have a baby” You say slowly. This made him jump into action. Of course - you didn’t have a baby! He panicked, walking towards the noise.

You, against your better judgement, went with Giles to look around the house to check where the noise was coming from. C/n weaved between both of your legs, coming too. But he stopped on the landing, hissing and running off in the opposite direction.

It got louder as you walked towards the spare room. You tensed, taking Giles’ sleeve and tugging him back. You were scared, you didn’t want him to get hurt. He nodded reassuringly, sliding his hand into yours and clasping it tight. The door opened slowly, it revealed... nothing.

There was no movement. No noise and definitely no baby.

You exchanged a look, silently agreeing to just leave that room alone from then on. You didn’t speak much for the rest of the evening, still hyperaware of any noises in the house. You went to sleep earlier than usual, clinging to Giles as you tried in vain to get some sleep.

You had managed some brief sleep, however you had a bad feeling which woke you up. Then came a strangled noise and a crash. You ran out of bed, with Giles close behind, in time to see your cat starting to float in mid-air while it thrashed against whatever it was. His tail was bushy and standing on end with his sharp teeth exposed whilst he hissed at the invisible force.

You reached and scooped your cat and pulled him into you, scowling around at the room.

“I’m fucking warning you!” You point at the ceiling as if the spirit were floating there, “Don’t mess with the cat!” You shouted, hugging the little fluff ball closer to your chest to make sure you were protecting him. You had seen movies like this - the pet was usually the first to go. Not on your watch.

“Y/n is it really necessary to use that language?”

“Oh I’m sorry did you want me to invite the poltergeist into the kitchen for a cup of tea!?”

“No, of course not. It just isn’t wise to… rile it up” He said gently, knowing how protective you were of the cat. You had expressed more than once that it felt like a little family, with you, the cat and Giles. Which he had adored when you had revealed this to him. He really did love you. He nodded once in understanding, pressing a kiss against the side of your head. You softened, melting into it a little, before snapping your eyes back open and shouting, “It’s Halloween tomorrow aren’t you meant to have the day off?!” scowling up at the ceiling again.

The movement seemed to disappear. So you eventually padded back to your shared bed, setting your cat at the end of the bed to ensure he was safe. You both slipped back into bed and huddled together as you tried to get some sleep. Your anger dissipating with every soft touch Giles gave you in the safety of your shared bed.

“We have to do something, sweetheart” You sigh, cuddling up to him. You weren’t fond of being haunted, it appeared.

“Let’s just, see what the spirit wants and see if we can, ah, assist. I will look up some books tomorrow” He muttered, stroking the back of your head softly. You nodded, well aware of his tendency to say a more polite version of what he really wanted to say.

“Can I bring c/n? please?” You whispered into his ear as you began to fall asleep nestled against his side.

The next morning was Halloween, a very busy day for you and Giles in the store you owned together. You usually enjoyed the day, but you were tired this morning and you snapped at Xander too many times so he threatened to walk.

This lead to you having to buy donuts to keep him sweet, which appeared to make him instantly your friend again. You explained yours and Giles’ predicament between the rush of customers and heard their suggestions which, although well-meaning, were entirely unhelpful. Your cat weaved between each customer, giving them a little entertainment whilst they waited in the long queues.

“Maybe you should get a priest?” Willow asked, using what appeared to be an entire roll of tape on a customers gift wrap. You were too busy reading a book on possession to supervise her properly so Anya snatched it from her and started to wrap it correctly.

“Yeah, you wanna go full-Exorcist. It is Halloween, G-man” Xander piped up and you let it slide with a mere eyeroll, seeing as you had snapped at him so much already today and Giles let him off with just a withering look.

You and Giles did a little more researching and decided the best way forwards was a ritual to reveal who you were dealing with and then one to cast out the spirit. You had everything lined up and you even colour coded the ritual into sections for him - you knew he loved it when you did that.

You decided you should probably do it as soon as possible. You presented your plan to the group after you finally closed up and the tired Scoobies listened. Their faces twisting into panic as they realised it sounded like a group event.

“Do we, uh, all have to be there?” Buffy asked, looking around and trying to silently come up with an excuse with the others. You caught this and winked at her.

“Well, we could use all of the help that we can get” Giles said solemnly, well aware of the horrified faces of the young people around him. He was about to launch into a long speech about duty.

“No. You can go to your Halloween party! Giles, there are some things that have to be dealt with alone, it’s our responsibility. We can do it just fine” You looped your arms around his neck and left a few soft kisses against his slightly parted mouth, in case he was still trying to protest. The Scoobies all took this as their cue to get up and run out of the door before Giles could change his mind. Dawn had taken your cat in the carrier, so that he was safe while you spent your Halloween dealing with whatever it was that had moved into your house (or maybe you had moved into its house?).

You made it home, wincing slightly as you saw the state of your kitchen. All of the cupboards were open. Cutlery was littering the floor. All of them had been paired with another, forming upside down crosses all over the floor. You smelt something and your eyes widened in horror. The gas was on. You ran over to turn it off and when you looked back around you saw that the teapot was cracked and in pieces in the centre of the wooden dining table. Clearly, the ghost wasn’t a fan of tea. Maybe it was a good job you didn’t offer it any.

You both cleared up, Giles staying quiet as you ranted through the tidying. You slammed the cutlery back in place. Crashing the cupboard doors closed. The teapot which you had really liked had to go straight into the bin.

When you finally finished, collapsing into the chairs in your living room. You felt exhausted. You weren’t sure if you had the energy to do this. You held onto the cross that Buffy had kindly gifted you and Giles earlier in the day.

A loud smash echoed through the house, making Giles jump and scatter your handwritten notes on the rituals you would have to perform all over the

You both rushed to pick them up before any poltergeist saw them and started to attack you before you could begin your plan. You then ran in to see what had happened, the noise having come from the kitchen. But this time, nothing was out of place. In fact, it was eerily clean. Spotless.

You decided you did have the energy. You wanted this entity gone. You couldn’t even relax in your home for a second anymore. This was further evident when you heard a loud scoff and a thud.

You rushed in, expecting to see Giles wrestling with a ghost, but instead you saw him glaring at the book case in the living room.

“For the love of all that is- will you please cease with the ridiculous organisation of my bookshelves! I cannot find a bloody thing!” He shouted at mid-air. It had been the one thing through all of this that had gotten a reaction.

“Now, now is that language really necessary, sweetie?” You giggle as he turned to face you, his temper still frayed.

“I cannot stand to live beside this-this-!” He looked around, as if he could have seen if the poltergeist was listening in, but obviously wasn’t able to see anything, “The books, y/n! the books!” He started to get worked up until your hand slid lightly up his chest, rubbing soothingly.

“I know, that’s why we’re doing a- doing what we’re doing- on Halloween night” You hinted, not wanting the entity to know what you planned. You kissed him on the cheek and nestled into him, hoping he could feel your love and comfort coursing through him like blood. He appeared to calm as he held you to him, but he was still frowning around him and towards the bookcase.

It was finally time. It was almost midnight and you started to paint the pentagram on one of the small, circular hardwood tables as Giles shook his head and muttered under his breath. He had given his blessing to use one of the tables he had brought with him into your home from England, but it didn’t mean he was pleased about it. You both set up, places crystals on each point of the pentagram. You also lit candles and brushing up pronunciation of Latin phrases before you began.

You nodded at each other, he closed the space between you to press a chaste kiss against your lips. For luck. Or courage. You both held hands and started reciting the words. Asking the spirit to reveal itself. Asking for its purpose. Things started to shake, books started to fly out of the shelves and litter the floor. Giles had to do everything in his power to stay focused.

The crystals flew at you both, scattering on the floor at your feet. You knew what this meant. It wanted you. It wanted to inhabit one of you. Possess you.

Giles didn’t even pause. He couldn’t have anything jeopardising his home. His love. He never wanted to be apart from you and so he started shouted that the spirit was being cast out. Cast from this home and back to where it came from. Nothing was happening except you were angering the demon. It had started to shriek. Blood curdling, squawks of terror that made you shiver.

The table was starting to shake, threatening to be thrown across the room and you panicked. Giles started to chant louder and you saw something from the corner of your eye. Giles was trying to contain the spirit within the confines of the pentagram at least - trying to cease the destruction of your shared home. A home that had held so much love and warmth being destroyed into nothing made him mad. He had memories in every room, he had told you of his love for you on the sofa that was now almost ripped in two.

You had seen a doll. You had picked it up from a fair, or a flea market. It was hideous. You don’t even remember why you bought it, it was oversized and had a blank stare that meant you had hidden it in a cupboard so you didn’t have to look at it. That now had been flung open with the contents littering the floor.

You panicked, having to move from the circle to grab the doll before placing it hurriedly into the centre of the pentagram. Giles said the final syllable and it happened. Everything suddenly went quiet. The room dull and empty. Littered with you entire lives surrounding you.

You had made it so the spirit passed into there. The doll. You winced as the doll started to shake and a horrible light filled the room. It was so bright it felt as if it was behind your eyes, inside your skull. A terrible scream felt as if it were exploding your eardrums before a cold silence fell again.

It was instinct. It had been dangerous, but you both agreed there would have been no other way. You stared around you at the mess and decided you needed to worry about the doll first.

You took the doll straight to the Magic Box and locked it up until you knew what to do with it.

You held hands as you stepped back over the threshold of your shared home, peering around corners and holding your breath before entering rooms. But it was okay. It was all back to normal.

Nothing was out of place. It was as if the activity had been something you had made up. Something of a shared dream. But you knew that wasn’t the case, and thought better than ever mentioning it out loud.

You turned and almost knocked Giles over in your haste to celebrate with the biggest hug. He quickly recovered and held you close. It was over, you both sighed as the first rays of the sunrise peaked from behind your blinds. Everything was going to be okay.

The details of this story were based on true events.

Y/n and Giles went on to save the world several times since the events of this fic. They assisted the Slayer at the final battle of Sunnydale and both survived.

The doll was sent to the care of Wolfram & Hart. The whereabouts of the doll is currently unknown.

#very obviously not a true story #a very Buffy Halloween #Giles #Rupert Giles #Rupert Giles x reader #Giles x reader #Rupert Giles imagine #Rupert Giles x you #Giles imagine #btvs #ats #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #btvs x reader #btvs x you #btvs imagine #Halloween fic #Halloween #Halloween request

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pynkhues · 4 years

Note

Love your analysis on Beth’s playing a role to control Dean—but now I’m curious about your thoughts on the ottoman haha

Oh my gosh, thank you for taking the bait and asking, haha. I’ve been thinking about the ottoman all week, because it felt like such a strange and very specific thing for the writers to bring up again in the context of Dean, Judith and Beth in 3.11 after Beth had made the joke about it to Rio in the bar back in 3.08. And hey! I get a lot of asks about writing and about critical creative theory, and how to develop both those skills, and I always give the advice to start by asking why.

So let’s ask why together, because let me tell you: if something in a story feels strange, and it’s specific, and especially if it’s repeated, it usually means the writers want you to notice. And if they want you to notice, that in turn means it’s either a) an important plot point (which, err, I don’t think the ottoman is, haha, unless somebody stashed some money in the thing), or b) it’s important symbolically (and sometimes both! The flashforwards on Breaking Bad in particular did that really well).

So yeah, I’ve been thinking a lot about the ottoman, and these two, seemingly flippant references to it, and ultimately it’s reminded me of a post I never actually wrote (classic Sophie, haha), about Beth and Judith in 2.09 and 3.02, and that kind of made a feedback loop in my head and - -

Look.

Basically I think it’s a symbolic rejection of Beth’s old life / Judith’s life; an important character beat for Beth, and an indicator that she’s more than what she was with Rio, and that she won’t ever be more than that with Dean, but that’s a lot. So.

Let’s break that down a bit.

Mommy Dearest

While motherhood is a central theme of this show, I am perpetually fascinated by the fact that the only mother to the main characters we really know is Dean’s mother, Judith, something that does actually feel like a deliberate choice.

After all, I could write a whole fresh essay about how it seems that Beth, Annie and Ruby each function as mothers themselves in ways that reflect a multigenerational trauma, and, ergo, a damaged mother in their own childhoods – we learnt in 2.08 after all that Beth and Annie’s mother was bedridden with depression, if nothing else, and Ruby’s mother was widowed when Ruby was just a young teenager (to say nothing of the trauma Ruby must’ve faced herself losing her father at that age) – but actually…that’s as much as we do know about them.

Dean though.

Well.

We actually know probably more about his family and his history than we do about any other character on the show. We know his parents were John and Judith. We know that his father created Boland Motors and that Dean inherited the business from him. We know that John cheated on Judith throughout his career, and that Judith briefly tried to go back to work herself as a shop girl before feeling forced back home.

We know that Judith sacrificed everything – her career, her autonomy, her body, her happiness – to give Dean the illusion of a perfect family. While Dean might not know all the details himself, he’s certainly picked some of the expectations of that up through his parents, because ultimately, he expects Beth to do the same. And she did! And still does, in many, many ways.

There are a lot of examples of this, but the biggest one, of course, is the arc across 2.07 through to 2.10, which culminates with Dean holding their children ransom at Judith’s house, blackballing Beth into caving, and then flat out not caring about her inner life at all in 2.10.

That entire arc hinges on a lot of things, but one of the most integral conversations within that is the one Beth and Judith have at Emma’s birthday party in 2.09.

A conversation that’s pretty sublimely paralleled in 3.02.

2.09 vs 3.02

Beth and Judith’s conversations at Emma’s birthday party in 2.09 and then in the Boland kitchen in 3.02 are in fact two scenes that are also in conversation with each other. They’re different, but they’re the same. They’re circling the same information, while offering new takes, bantering old jokes that pivot into new jabs. They’re great, and I know they’re nobody who watches this show’s favourite scenes, but I actually love both of them a lot, and I think they’re really important – not just for Beth as a character, but for the show’s themes overall.

The scene in 2.09 falls on the back of Dean having taken the kids, and Beth’s grief arc around that. She only gets the invite to Emma’s birthday party because Dean’s put her in a position where she has to ask for it, and within the first 20 seconds of Beth and Judith exchange while they’re cutting up Emma’s birthday cake, we get this absolute gem:

Beth: [Dean]’s a good dad.

Judith: So was John. Not much of a husband though.

Judith goes on to confirm that John cheated (with enough women she “stopped counting”), just like she now knows Dean did, but that’s not the point, and it’s not the thrust of the conversation.

The throughline is that men might cheat, and you can leave them, but as a mother, your responsibility is to them. You have to sacrifice your own needs to give them the best life you can.

In both Ruby and Annie’s cases, these are moral sacrifices to create financial gains for those children. Ruby’s in a loving marriage and needs to pay for her daughter’s medication, so that’s all literal with her. For Annie, it’s not quite as literal, but explores a parallel morality by way of her empathy – she feels no moral guilt about robberies, but she feels moral guilt by way of Marion and Nancy, in order to provide for her son.

Beth’s not like them.

She enjoys crime. She empathises with others, but isn’t a bleeding heart like Annie.

All of Beth’s sacrifices are felt personally.

She dims her own light, her own passions, her personality, her needs, her ambitions, to fuel the light of Dean’s, or for their children.

It’s a conversation she has again with Judith in 3.02.

Judith’s been helping out more since Beth went to work. It leads to a few confrontations across the episode, but the one between the two of them in the kitchen after dinner is pivotal. I could actually transcribe the whole conversation here, because it’s honestly awesome, revealing dialogue, but instead I’m going to break it down into three little blocks.

a) The first in that it tells us how much Dean diminishes and doesn’t think about his mother.

Beth apologises for the fight which Dean ignores, and Judith asks a simple question:

“Did Dean ever tell you that I worked?”

No, Beth replies, simply, effortlessly.

A telling thing for a couple who have been together for over 20 years.

b) It builds to Judith telling Beth about having Dean, and then –

Judith: Everyone’s fawning over this new baby boy, while I’m just…nothing. Empty. Flesh and hormones over ice.

Beth pours them both a drink.

Confides that she had post-partum depression too.

c) But that’s not what Judith is saying. Judith’s not empathising with Beth, she’s telling her to go home.

Beth: Your happiness was important too.

(beat)

Judith: How much does the card shop pay?

Beth: You shouldn’t have quit.

Judith: And you should be home for dinner if you don’t want the kids saying grace…what a lie, huh? That we can have it all.

This scene is sharp, and it’s designed as a narrative weapon against Beth, who is desperately trying to keep her family above water, and actually gives Beth the triple duty in terms of protective responsibilities.

She’s trying to provide for her children, of course, and trying to justify her own purpose outside of motherhood to her mother-in-law, while also concealing from Judith how much Dean has failed their family in every way.

Judith gave up everything for Dean, so what can Beth do except placate her?

The thing is, these two conversations have very, very different results.

In 2.09, Judith’s conversation with Beth was a key part of Beth ultimately quitting both crime and Rio, and trying to revert back to the woman she was – the woman Judith would always be.

3.02 had a very different outcome.

Beth didn’t quit.

She doubled down.

Not only that, it directly pivoted into a scene where Beth, Ruby and Annie were criming, fucked a part of it up, and Beth’s instant response is “What would Rio do?” trying him into that overall arc.

The Ottoman

Which brings us, finally, to the ottoman!

It’s an offhand joke in 3.08, right? Beth’s dressed up, and she and Rio are in one of their games of eternal bargaining after she robbed him and he replied by stealing literally everything she owned. She’s trying to earn it back, he says he has something for her, she jokes, “My ottoman?”

It’s not serious. She’s not serious, which already loads the term, but Rio’s response is equally light, equally dismantling.

No.

The thing he has for her is Boomer.

And sure, there’s a lot to unpack in that, but what’s important here is that Rio treated the ottoman as something as frivolous as Beth treated it. They were on the same page – in maybe one of the few moments they were all season.

He knew as well as she did that the ottoman wasn’t something she needed.

The scene in 3.11 is really different.

Beth’s literally dressed down, on the toilet, in the robe she wore when she broke up with Rio in 2.09. Dean barges in, tells her no one will give him money to buy the hot tub place, then instantly breaks into a diatribe about how his mother wants to give them his ottoman.

Beth: We don’t have a couch!

Dean: I told her that.

Beth: Good.

Dean: The ottoman will be here tomorrow.

[Beth sighs]

Dean: I know, I’m sorry.

[beat]

Dean: I just don’t want [Rio] involved again.

The scene serves the purpose of, once again, emasculating Dean – showing that he can’t get out from under his mother’s thumb in the same narrative beat that it tells us as an audience that Dean can’t wriggle out from beneath Rio’s either – at least not as long as he’s with Beth.

In turn, the ottoman as an object holds a lot of narrative weight.

It’s something Beth and Rio can joke about, and something that labours on Beth and Dean’s marriage.

On a deeper level, the ottoman is something that holds a purpose, yes, but needs other items to be complete.

On its own, an ottoman is a joke. With a couch, it’s a living room.

Beth wants the couch – she wants the career – she wants the functionality and purpose of it. She wants to build her home herself, not scrape around for leftovers, nor rely on superficial or frivolous function in the way that she did before she robbed Fine & Frugal.

Beth is a character bursting with purpose, utility, passion. She wants to build this new life, not accessorise it, and Rio knows it, and Dean can never offer it to her, and that matters to her, particularly as she tries to untangle her future from Judith’s.

What I’m getting at is that I think Beth made a very different decision in 3,02 than she did in 2.09. She decided she was going to do this. She was going to be less of an ornament in her own life, and it would take her away from her children but hopefully give her more function to provide for them, and notably for herself too, and I think the narrative symbol of the ottoman is that the domestic goddess / Judith image isn’t her anymore, at least not exclusively. It’s not what she needs, and Rio knows that, and can laugh with her as she makes a joke of it, while Dean knows it, but will never fully support or empower her in disentangling from it.

#gg 2.09 #gg 3.02 #gg 3.11 #beth x rio #beth x dean #beth boland #rio #dean boland #judith boland #welcome to my ama #audreydear

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reactingwithexo · 5 years

Text

Hold Me Close - Kyungsoo Smut

genre: smut, angst, fluff

warnings: well smut yes, mentions of depression

word-count: 1.8K

A/N: I don’t know how to feel about it but hey! I did it, I finally wrote a full smut I’ll cry, It’s been so long I’ve written for Kyungsoo so it’s only fair he gets this honor, also I miss him.

You just weren’t in the mood to go, you really weren’t. But everyone around you insisted and thought it was the best for you to show you were evolving in your struggles and getting “back to society”. You hated the way they implied you weren’t living a normal life lately because of the months you spent struggling with depression.

You still fucking lived a normal life, you had to go to work, you had to finish your studies, and you did all that while hurting badly inside until it was too much and you shut down everyone.

Truth is no one really took your struggles seriously and you had to fight them yourself.

That’s why you decided you’d go spend part of your vacation on the family house in the litoral, you had good summers there when you were a child, and as much as you knew that now you’d have to go through your cousins parading their perfect lives everywhere, you still gave it a chance, you had to work through your difficulties your inner voice said.

The beach party was already in full motion when you got there, part of yourself was already tired from being in such an unusual ambient for you but still you tried to keep a positive mindset, your cousin had already vanished to talk to someone from her cycle of friends and you briefly waved at them.

30 minutes later, with no successful social interactions as everyone seemed too high or engrossed into conversation to speak to you, you decided you could use a drink and went on a quest to find the kitchen.

Between trying not to crash into anyone’s drinks and have your clothes soaked and finding a hint of where the kitchen might be, you stumbled upon something on the ground and almost ran into someone.

“Shit! I’m sorry” you exclaimed at the stranger, “It’s fine” he immediately answered and after a few seconds continued “I see I’m not the only one who’s lost”

He had black hair and big eyes, overall he looked like a nice guy and was definitely dressed for the occasion “yeah, i’m trying to find the kitchen, need a drink”

“I can help you out with that” , he said and added immediately “if you don’t mind of course”.

“Hm sure, but I thought you were lost too?” You asked refering to his previous remark.

He shrugged his shoulders and said “Well, two brains think better than one, also I saw some people coming from that direction - he pointed at a group of people walking towards you - with full glasses on their hands”

“Oh! Very sharp observation” you said and he smiled at your remark while you both followed the direction he pointed out.

“So are you new here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in these” He asked.

“I’m just spending the holidays with my family, but I’m originally from somewhere else, guess you’re lucky enough to live here near this beautiful beach”

You didn’t know why you were already happy chatting with this stranger but maybe his features communicated safety to you.

“What no one tells you is that - he stops midsentence to give you a cup - the nearer you live from the beach, the less you go enjoy it”

“Hmm I suppose life gets shitty for everyone at some point” you say while you finally have your drink.

“Cheers to that” he says while you two ““have a toast”“ with your plastic cups.

“I’m Kyungsoo by the way”

“Y/n”

“Nice to meet you” after that some silence is restaured while you two drink from your respective cups and you felt his eyes on you.

“Well I think my friends are long gone now...maybe do you want to go see the beautiful beach with me?” he asks , trying to avoid your gaze in the last part of the sentence.

And that’s where it all started.

2 years later

When you stopped to think about how your life switched in that moment you realize how everything is so unpredicable.

Here you are, spending your third summer with your now boyfriend Kyungsoo before he moves with his family.

You didn’t wanna think about it too much on how everything will change again without having him around even though he assures you you’ll still be in touch.

One thing is to move to another city, the other is to move to a whole other continent. He didn’t really have a choice not to go but a part of you wish he defied his family and stayed here.

He helped you so much with healing, or how he likes to say it, you healed each other when no one else seemed to care anymore. And it was true.

So having to live without him now being close to you is really a test.

You helped him pack his things and was looking through the window while he arrived from buying some groceries with that smile on his face that you just adored.

“Hey” you went in to give him a peck.

“What are you so thoughtful about hm?” he asks while he pulled you closer by your waist.“Overthinking about the moving again?” you turned around in his hold and he kissed the side of your ear softly.

“I mean... I won’t lie” you answered while you played with the fabric of your shirt.

“We’ve had this conversation a million times y/n” he turned you around to face him again “i feel everything you feel as well” he took your hand and placed it above his heart, eyes on yours at all times “this is all yours ok? distance won’t change that”

“You promise?” you ask softly.

He smiled and answered “yes i promise”, he let go of your hand and leaned in closer to you. Before you got any time to think, he had his arms around you, his kiss tried to convey every word he has said to you, the intesity just rising from the way you kissed him back.

You felt a rush of need to give him your all like you wouldn’t have the chance to do it again, when he started playing with the hem of your shirt so you’d take it off the thoughts and insecurities that had surrounded you about your relationship were long gone from your thoughts.

After some clothing was gone he went on to explore your neck with soft kisses at first, the power only increasing while you clinged onto his body as soft moans escaped you.

He insisted on hearing those from you as he lowered his kisses to your chest, and you trembled upon his surrounding arms.

You felt him smile through his endless kisses and you couldn’t help but smile back even through your foggy brain that was filled with pleasure.

He swifted his attention to taking off your shorts as he kissed the whole path down with your underwear being thrown to the side, you showed your impatience with the fact that he was almost still fully dressed and he let out a chuckle at your plea.

“No rush, we have all night” , he mumbled while his lips brushed the skin of your thighs, his mouth spreading kisses all over it while you pleaded for him to get where you wanted him to.

He secured your hips on the bed with his arm and suddenly you were gone on the pleasure of his touches and kisses, your hand rushed to his hair in the middle of the mess between tongue, fingers and moans.

As your moans got louder, the need to have him inside you only heightned. He listened to your whimpers of “please” and he knew you needed something more, still he shushed you by bringing himself up eye to eye and he tapped your lips for you to suck on his finger while he added with an almost menacing tone “you’re cuming on my mouth first”.

The way he stared at you made you wanna loose yourself on those eyes, you couldn’t see yourself without having him near you often.

He chose to focus on his fingers inside you while he kept his stare on you, he kissed you on the lips and whispered countless sweet nothings.

When you released, you mouth followed with loud pleas of his name, he kissed you as he helped you ride your high on his fingers.

You two ended up enveloped on each other’s touches again while you managed to take his clothes off this time, he seemed to be less patient now as you felt his desperation rising along with yours. You went on to repay his earlier touches but he stopped you in the middle of his own moan “later, I need to be inside you first baby”

He seemed relieved when you just nodded, right afterwards he followed to give more attention to your breasts as he aligned himself with your entrance, only stopping to grab a condom, praises never failing to fall from his mouth, from the way your skin was soft, to the way your voice would drive him out of his mind.

He had no rush while first entering you, chosing to give you a deep kiss to heighten the contact between your bodies.

The kisses didn’t stop even ask his speed increased, the room filled with gasps, to the point you need to just close your eyes and enjoy the feeling of being there with him, he whispered between grunts for you to look at him as he enlaced his fingers with yours, he only hit deeper spots in you and your voice seemed to have left your body.

He must have felt you clenching around him because he seemed to have more difficulty in resisting falling into his own high after your upcoming second of the night.

Luckily you weren’t far off as he found your perfect spot and with ‘i love you’ promises on your ear, you didn’t resist much on having your second high, this time around his dick.

His high followed closely after as you kissed him through it, this time being you filling him with words of love and admiration. You both just stayed in the same position for a while until he showed you his adorable smile and you responded the same way.

You two went on to continue the night in an endless loop of loving each other and then getting a shower.

When you two were already as spent as possible cuddling in bed and too lazy to go into another shower, he told you “we’re gonna be fine” as he left a kiss on your forehead.

A/N: I went to do a minor change on the post and tumblr deleted the whole thing I almost passed out tbh, hope you guys liked it, I appreciate feedback!

#exo #exo smut #do kyungsoo #kyungsoo #kyungsoo smut #exo imagines #exo scenario #kpop smut #kpop #exok #requested #exo angst #exo fluff #exo one shot #exo scenarios #angst #smut #fluff

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alison-anonymous · 4 years

Text

flawsome bandits pt. 18 ♡ sonic

Flawsome Sleep Kicker

Part 18! I hope you all are doing well, my darlings! I would love to hear some feedback from you all on how you think the story is progressing! Don’t you worry, this story is not done yet, but we are getting close to the beginning of the end ;)

Warnings - fluff!

♡♡♡

“Ow…”

Y/n inhaled sharply as Sonic kicked her once again in the shin, igniting even more pain throughout her already sore legs.

“OW! Shit…” She breathed, pulling her legs up to her chest. She sighed. Of course, Sonic would never intentionally hurt her. He was fast asleep, she could tell by the snoring adorable sleep-mumbling. She could only hope he was kicking Robotnik’s ass in his dream. Unfortunately for her, thanks to his increased stress levels, the main thing he was kicking right now was her legs. And it wasn’t just those gentle, teasing kicks, oh no. These were the kind that he used when he got very determined to win during Wachowski soccer tournaments. It hurt like hell, she wasn’t going to lie. And she was beginning to develop some nasty bruises from the trauma too. But every time she tried a different sleeping position, his feet somehow found a way to kick them. She had tried multiple times to wake him up, but he was such a heavy sleeper that he could have slept through a hurricane and not even stirred.

Guess living with a stable roof over his head had made him let down his guard a little bit.

She loved Sonic with all her heart, but it was very well known that if there was one thing he was good at, it was fighting. And his kicks were no exception. Sighing, she turned onto her back and glanced over at her boyfriend as he slept. He looked so peaceful. The kicks had stopped now, thank goodness. Raising one of her arms, she gently stroked his jawline and smiled softly to herself. All of the years that they had spent together, he was her one constant. The one being that she would protect with her life. If it came down to it that they couldn’t handle the fight between Robotnik and them, she would do anything to stop him from hurting Sonic. Even if it meant-

“OW! Sonic!” She hissed, trying her best to bite back tears as his foot collided with her shin once again.

♡♡♡

The next morning, Y/n wasn’t in her best mood. Getting kicked in the shin all throughout the night will do that to you. But after she forced a couple cups of coffee down her throat, she was at least sociable and not entirely conflicted. Knuckles had been the one to recommend that they move their camp site since it was already known to Shadow and Robotnik and they were getting closer to becoming ready for battle by the day. Because of his warning, they all decided that it would be best to move a couple of miles east just in case.

While Spirit, Tails, and Knuckles drove ahead in the truck, Y/n and Sonic stretched their abilities. It had been a little while since they had practiced using their powers besides the spontaneous callings when Robotnik or Shadow or even Knuckles had shown up out of the blue for a little practice-sparring. Though Y/n hated to admit it, she was beginning to wonder if her abilities were growing a bit too far out of her control. Maybe some practice would be good for her; help her regain a bit of a grip on reality. She hadn’t heard the singing ever since they left for this trip, so that had to be at least a decent sign that things were going okay with her. Sonic, on the other hand, couldn’t have been better. He adored the idea of getting to spend some quality time with his lady by doing the one thing that they loved most: racing.

“I’ll give you three seconds for a head start,” Sonic offered as he stretched his quads, sending Y/n a wink. “Only for you, sweetheart!”

His offer warmed her heart as she felt her powers itching to get in some practice. She pulled one of her arms across her chest and hummed gently, staring towards the truck as Tails, Spirit, and Knuckles drove to their new spot. “Don’t you dare go easy on me, cutie,” She teased. “Or I’ll leave you in my dust.”

“You’re on!” Sonic’s emerald eyes turned blue with electric excitement of the chase, and in less than two seconds later, they were off, racing and flying through the grass. It didn’t take them long to pass by the truck, and they made sure to do plenty of loop-arounds so as to not lose their friends. The adrenaline pumped through their veins in sync, allowing them to let their energies mingle while they stretched their limbs. But while they zipped and zigzagged through the forest, Y/n’s emotions began to change.

The faster she went, the more she thought about the vision she had. The quicker her heartbeat, the more she began to fear going up against Robotnik and Shadow. The more rapidly she breathed, the more she began to feel like crying. Smoke clouded her lungs until she couldn’t breathe, Robotnik’s crazy laughter filled her ears, and Shadow’s claws sank into her shoulder blades as she held the poison in her hands.

No.

No, no, no, no, no!

In her fit of unravelling, Y/n didn’t notice the tree coming closer to her until she had rammed into it, causing her to fall backwards onto the ground with a plop. Her forehead throbbed as she panted, her eyes wide and heart racing. But nothing seemed real to her right now. She was too… scared. Why did she have to see that? Why did she have to listen to the voice every time it was called to her? Why? Sonic had been having such a fun time racing that he didn’t notice Y/n lying on the ground right away. But in that moment, her mind was swirling so fast that she couldn’t seem to drag herself back into the waking world. The universe of hypotheticals had consumed her whole as she felt the dampness of the dirt beneath her nuzzle against her fur, trying to pull her into its depths.

Could they really do it?

What made them think that they could? Facing Robotnik alone had been a hard enough challenge, regardless of how much boasting they liked to do. Even though Sonic didn’t like to think about it, they had almost died. Y/n had watched him die in her arms before she healed him with her powers. Then he finished the job with his emotion-fuel. But the thing about their abilities was that they didn’t last forever. When Sonic and Y/n had been ring-jumping in an attempt to get away from the crazy doctor, Y/n had already begun to grow tired when they were in the desert. Their powers couldn’t keep them going forever. That was the downside.

They were powerful, but on a time crunch.

Robotnik was powerful, too, and the worst part? Machines don’t have time limits. Robotnik could keep going for as long as he wanted too, and if Sonic or Y/n so much as took a break, it would push them back in their progress. Sure, now they had Spirit, Tails, and even Knuckles on their side. But they didn’t seem like they had been through many battles. Spirit was good with baseball bats, Tails was good at tech, and Knuckles was good with his fists, but against Shadow? A hedgehog that had every ability that Sonic did, but better? They didn’t stand a chance, did they? And if what Knuckles said was true and that they had been working on a Metal Sonic primed to take them out, then they were as good as dead.

What made them think they could do this?

What? Tears threatened to spill down Y/n’s cheeks as she bit down hard on her lip. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to fix this. A way to prevent the fight that would eventually happen from breaking out. A way to stop Robotnik from hurting her friends and even her family. A way to make sure that no one died and nothing was wrecked. She would have to be very careful about it though, there was no way that Sonic would go along with it if he found out. But she was willing to do anything to protect him, right?

Even… Even if it meant…

No. She wasn’t going to think too much about it now. Because if she thought about it too

much, then she might convince herself against it. It was indeed one of the craziest ideas she had ever come up with, but it was one that might just be crazy enough for Robotnik to accept. She’d have to try, and be very sneaky about it. Perhaps after they had all fallen asleep for the night. An immediate damper was placed upon her heart, but Y/n knew that if she were going to fix things then this was one of the only ways to make sure that no one got hurt.

Would he accept her proposal? I guess she’d have to find out herself.

♡♡♡

Later that night, Y/n had decided that she was going to try and sleep in the bed of the truck rather than next to Sonic. It wasn’t that she wanted to sleep away from him, as they had both become very used to sleeping next to each other, and he was a big source of comfort for her, but the kicking was something she needed a break from. Plus, if she was going to put her plan into action, it might help if she put some distance between her and him…

No matter how much it killed her…

She had to do this. For him. Because she loved Sonic with all her heart.

“N/n?” Sonic’s voice broke her out of her train of thought. She froze, her pillow clutched tightly to her chest. The look of confusion on his face broke her heart. “What are you doing?”

“Um, I…” She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Come on, Y/n, you can do this… “I’m going to sleep in the truck bed tonight… if that’s okay with you?”

Sonic’s eyes slowly began to lose their light, his ears drooping. Y/n squirmed, having to physically bite her tongue in order to prevent herself from taking it all back.

“Y-Yeah, of course that’s fine, but, umm, why?” He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, but the look of absolute heartbreak was prominent. He reminded Y/n of a scolded puppy and it made her want to smack herself for doing this to him. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” She blurted before she could stop herself, her e/c eyes widening. Y/n took a couple steps towards him, her need to comfort him stronger than she thought. “Of course you didn’t do anything wrong! It’s just… you’re a sleep-kicker. Or, at least, now you are. And I tend to be your punching bag, haha…” She tried to laugh to lighten the mood, but it came out more downhearted than anything. Sonic’s expression continued to drop, but there was a small flicker of relief that crossed over his face at her explanation.

“Oh? That’s all? I mean, I’m so sorry! I swear, I don’t mean to-”

“I know you don’t,” Y/n quickly interrupted. “I know, I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings…” It was the truth, and nothing but it. She felt disgusted with herself for not telling him about it sooner, but when Sonic gently wrapped his arm around her waist and smiled down warmly at her, she knew that she had nothing to be worried about.

“You know you can talk to me about anything!” It was a statement, not a question. “Come on, I promise that I won’t kick you tonight. We could try a different sleeping position?”

Even though the part of her brain that knew she was going to do something crazy was begging her to say no and to sleep in the bed, her overwhelming love for the electric blue hedgehog won by a landslide. Besides, even if she did try to sleep in the bed, she probably wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. Sonic’s body warmth and heartbeat had played a big part in lulling her into the dream realm, and ever since they had started sharing a “bed”, she had slept better than she ever had before. Even her old bed at home couldn’t compare to the feeling of sleeping next to someone who loves you as much as you love them.

Y/n gently nodded her head, and he led her back over to their makeshift mattress that they had been sleeping on. It was the one closest to the fire since Sonic got cold during the night, and Spirit and Knuckles had already retired for the night while Tails took first watch. As Y/n snuggled under the blankets, she felt Sonic’s arms wrap around her waist. Surprised, she glanced back over her shoulder only to be greeted with a pair of beautiful emerald orbs.

“Is this okay with you?” He asked softly. She nodded her head slowly, already feeling the butterflies begin to panic within her stomach.

He wants to cuddle! They screamed. I repeat! He wants to cuddle! Like an adorable little married couple!

Y/n couldn’t help but grin at her foolishness and turned around in his arms so she was facing him. Shifting until she found a comfortable spot, she rested her head on his chest, much like the way they had been the night they slept out on the couch together. It seemed to be the position that they both found the most comfortable, and before she knew it, she was drifting off to sleep.

♡♡♡

“We don’t have any alcohol?” Shadow whined, watching with tear-puffy eyes as Robotnik worked on his project. “Are you surreee?”

“Yes, Shadow,” Robotnik snarled, his grip on the wrench in his hand tightening significantly. “Why the hell do you even need alcohol anyway?”

“Because,” Shadow hiccuped like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Y/n doesn’t love me and I can’t kill her boyfriend no matter how hard I try.”

Robotnik froze, and slowly began to turn around to stare at his last minion. Of course he had known about this before, it was impossible for him to not have caught on with all of the whining and obsessions that Shadow had been demonstrating about the icy hedgehog. He had seen it as an incentive, motivation for Shadow to take out the hedgehogs. Robotnik knew full well that there was no way it would ever work out, but it’s not like he actually cared. That’s why he let Knuckles leave without so much as a fight; the echidna was an idiot anyway.

But this whole yandere thing had been getting quite… pathetic.

“THIS is what you need alcohol for? Not as a celebratory measure for when we finally take out those putrid beings and their little friends?” Robotnik put down the wrench after tightening some bolts and took out his paintbrush. Shadow pouted, his eyes filling with tears as he twirled his pistol around in his hand.

“I tried SO HARD, Boss! I tried to poison him, I tried to kidnap her, and I used every pick up line I can think of and nothing worked! What am I doing wrong? Should I be more forceful? I should probably be more forceful. Maybe next time I see her, I’ll seduce her with some lingerie and a flamethrower…” After that, Robotnik tuned him out in order to continue his work. He didn’t need to worry about Shadow’s love problems, he had other things to worry about.

Like the robot that he had finally just finished.

He carefully set down the paintbrush, hope beginning to fill his brain, and turned the switch on. Instantly, the robot began to let out a low humming noise before it finally began to wake up. He stepped back slightly, watching in awe as his creation began to awaken from the dead of spare parts.

“It’s alive!” Robotnik cackled maniacally as it sputtered, whirred, and careened. The red lights that made up its eyes slowly buzzed to life, and an evil smirk slowly made its way onto Robotnik’s lips. “I’m coming for you, hedgehogs.”

“...Do you think Y/n will love me more if I kill her boyfriend with a shotgun or a katana?”

♡ a.a.

#sonic #sonic x reader #sonic imagines #sonic the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic the hedgehog imagines #sonic the hedgehog m #sonic the hedgehog movie x reader #sonic the hedgehog movie imagines #sonic the hedgehog 2020 #sonic the hedgehog 2020 x reader #sonic the hedgehog 2020 imagines #flawsome bandits

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peonybane · 5 years

Text

Agape and Pragma: Chapter 8

Pairings: OT7 (BTS) x Reader

Word Count: 2.8 k

Genre: Hybrid AU, Fluff, Angst, Sci-Fi, Crack (?), Smut (eventually)

Chapter Specific Notes: Lots of angst, pining, suggestive material. Like. REALLY suggestive.

Terminology: A ‘queen’ is a female cat (didn’t know this and ended up researching this a few time to make sure). A ‘doe’ is a female rabbit. A ‘peahen’ is a female peafowl (peahen vs. peacock).

Summary: Your entire world had be torn asunder by just one lab test. Time heals all wounds, but does it really? What will it take to feel whole again?

Hybrid Types: Peacock Jin, Serval Yoongi, Golden Retriever Hoseok, Gray Wolf Namjoon, Scottish Fold House Cat Jimin, Great Dane Taehyung, and French Lop Eared Rabbit Jungkook

a/n: Thank you to my best friend and beta reader, @ropeseok for helping fix and refine this chapter. Things are really heating up! Please look forward to some, ahem, ‘fun’ time in Chapter 9!

<— Previous (Chapter 7)

As you made your way across the street, you heard your name being called by a familiar voice. Turning around, you spotted Jongin. He was dressed in a simple button up and comfortable, but nice, pants. You wore a sundress and a light sweater since cafes sometimes get cold. Seemed like both of you had the idea of casual, but not too casual for coffee. He joined you, his tail flicking happily and his ears at attention, their focus on you.

The smile on his face faltered as he got into arm’s reach. His nose crinkled as if he had smelled something unpleasant. You tilted your head. “Something wrong?”

“No. It’s nothing. Think I smell—“ He paused, reconsidering himself. “Actually, never mind. Probably nothing.”

He seemed to be hiding something, but you gambled not to push any further. “Anyways, let’s go inside.”

Nodding happily, you let him lead you into the cafe.

Once inside, you both made your way over to the line to order. Even in line, Jongin still wore that sour look on his face. “You sure everything is alright?”

His tail began flicking nervously and his ears swiveled about, giving away some sort of nerves. “Yeah, just… is that some new perfume? I think the smell is messing with my head. I can’t figure out why though.”

Your brow knit together. “No. It’s the same one I wore on the plane.”

Realization seemed to have dawned on him, his eyes growing large and just as he opened his mouth to reply, the cashier called for the next person in line. Once you both had ordered, Jongin insisted upon paying (“I’m a gentleman. Don’t hurt my pride like this.”) And you shyly let him, despite guilt gnawing away at you.

Waiting for your drinks, you exchanged more simple pleasantries, Jongin continued to act well, kinda squirrelly around you as he looked around the cafe, as if waiting for someone to jump out of the shadows to attack him. Once you both had your drinks, Jongin led you over to a table in the corner. Instead of sitting close you like you thought he would, he sat as far away from you as he politely could. You’d be lying if you said that it didn’t slightly hurt your feelings.

You slowly sipped on your drink as you thought about what to say next. It wasn’t nearly this… tense the last time you met him. In fact, the last time, it felt like you two were perfectly in sync, comfortable in each other’s presence. He called your name.

“Yes, Jongin?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“Yes. There is. I messed up. I should’ve noticed. I pressured you.”

Your voice rose an octave as he refused to meet your gaze. “No, you didn’t. I wanted to come here.”

“You’re too nice. But it’s almost cruel. Giving me some hope. Despite the fact that you’re already mated.”

“Mated?!”

Your voice was much louder than you had meant. But you couldn’t help it. That was last thing you had expected to come out of his mouth. A group of giggling teenage girls caught your attention and your face immediately flushed, knowing that they were giggling at your outburst. Jongin shot them a look and they immediately quieted down, whether it was out of intimidation or attraction (after all, that jawline could cut glass), you weren’t sure. Not that it mattered.

“Am I wrong? I didn’t smell it the last time we were together, but you’re covered in pheromones. It’s so strong…. I don’t know how I missed it the last time. It’s also so odd. It doesn’t smell like any one scent.”

You swallowed. “How… how many do you smell?”

He looked at you hurt. You didn’t deny his claims, you guessed he had secretly hoped you would. There was a venomous edge to his words. “What do you mean how many? I can’t really tell. But there’s at least a gross wet dog smell to you, a cat, some sort of rodent, and a bird.”

You did your best to remind yourself that he didn’t mean anything malicious by those words. After all, how was he to know just how deeply you felt for your roommates if you didn’t know either?

“Jo-Jongin? Can I ask you a question?”

He hesitated for a moment, his tail flicking, but hummed a confirmation as he nodded. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“What does it mean? For a Hybrid to be in love?”

He knit his brow together. “Depends, I guess. I mean, while we’re different from normal people, we’re not too different. But I guess our feelings are more… visceral. Primal. We do things without really realizing what we’re doing. Why?”

“My best friends think….” You hesitated in how you should answer. “They think, my roommates are… in love with me.”

Jongin stared you down with a hard look. “Do you love them?”

“Yes. They’re like family.”

“Don’t lie. Please.”

Sighing, you leaned back in your chair. “I don’t know. I think I do. But… how do you love seven people?”

Jongin was silent for a moment. “It’s not talked about a lot, but polyamory is a big part of the Hybrid culture, after all, very few of our species are monogamous. But it’s not something we necessarily talk about out in the open too much. Especially with normal people.”

“But you’re talking to me about it.”

“That’s because you’re apart of it, now.” He leaned towards you. “For Hybrids, attraction is like a positive feedback loop. If we like someone, no, love someone, we develop a specific pheromone just for that person. If that person loves us in return, they also emit a specific hormone, which, whether or not we’re conscious of it, will make our own hormones even stronger. It’s this endless cycle that feeds in on itself. The… scents,” he seemed to involuntarily wrinkled his nose at the word, “that I smell on you can’t be as potent as they are on you if you didn’t at least return some of their feelings.”

You swallowed. This was too much to stomach. As if sensing your nerves, Jongin sighed and said, “You love them. When you look at them, does your heart swell? Can you forgive them for everything, no matter how badly it may hurt you? Do you feel safe with them? When you’re touched, do you feel calm? Can you stand to be in complete silence around them and have no need to fill that silence? Do you want, any of them, to bend you over and just do what they want to you?”

At first, you couldn’t deny the sweet feelings he was describing to you. But your breath caught and something in your clenched at the mention of them doing with you what they will. Your throat went dry but there was no denying it, especially as the images of all seven of them doing something absolutely sinful to you flashed before your eyes.

Your voice trembled and was barely above a whisper. “…Yes.”

Jongin sighed, almost painfully as he let his head fall back. “Didn’t even have a chance, did I?”

Something tugged at your heartstrings. Guilt. “Yes, you did.”

He looked into your eyes, sadly. “No. You think that, now. But… you were always theirs. We may have worked out for a short while. But ultimately, you love them. And they love you.”

Hot tears that you couldn’t control started welling up in your eyes. Jongin smiled sadly and reached across the table, wiping at your tear with his thumb. “Don’t cry. It’s not worth it.”

“But I hurt you.”

“What’s there to be hurt about when it comes to mates? It’s not something that we can control. Sure, we can lie to ourselves that we can, but really, we can’t. I’ll just have to wait a little longer to find mine.”

He suddenly stood up, startling you. You followed his lead and stood up as well. Jongin gave you gentle, but sad smile before walking around the table to your side. You weren’t sure what was coming, but it certainly wasn’t the hug he gave you. Unsure of yourself, it took you a moment, but you eventually hugged him back.

Again, you found yourself tensing as he buried his face your neck, rubbing it against you. As he pulled away, he kissed your forehead and you looked at him with wide, almost fearful eyes. “What— What was that for?”

Jongin smirked, stuffing his one of his hands in his pocket and the other grabbed his coffee. “Just a little something to move things along. Maybe a little revenge. See ya around.”

You stood there gaping like a fish out of water as he gave you one last wave of goodbye before leaving the cafe.

^~^~^~^~^

“I’m home!”

The house was silent and you were reminded that your roommates were all out of the house, either at work (Jin was probably at the restaurant, Yoongi at his studio, Jungkook was probably with a client, and Namjoon was probably at the library) or out doing something else (You weren’t quite sure what Jimin, Taehyung, and Hoseok were up to, other than mentioning that they’d be out).

You sighed, dropping your bag off in it’s usual place. Since the guys were out, may you’d watch some of those horrible conspiracy theory tv shows and treat yourself to one of Yoongi’s top vintages or a carton of ice cream. You kicked off your shoes, leaving them at the door; you’d get them later. As you made your way to the kitchen, you draped your sweater over the back of one of the chairs in the dining area.

Entering the kitchen, you sighed heavily as you rubbed your neck. This whole ‘mates’ thing or whatever it was was really starting to take its toll on you. You opened the freezer. Now was the time to decide: vanilla or chocolate or mint ice cream for the conspiracy theory marathon. As you stared into the blinding light of the freezer, humming an unknown tune as you shook your bottom, making your decision, you didn’t notice the presence looming behind you.

Taking out your chosen flavor to defrost, you nearly drop the damn thing when you turned around, finding Jimin looming in the doorway, his tail flicking and face unreadable. You gasped, hand flying to your chest. “Dammit, Jimin! You scared the crap out of me.”

As you placed the carton of ice cream on the counter and closed the freezer, Jimin continued to stare at you, being strangely… quiet. Your brow knit together and for some reason… the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. “What— what’s wrong, Jimin?”

He remained silent. This silence sparked an unknown fury inside you. “Fine. If you’re not gonna talk then just go brood somewhere else, Batman.”

Just as you were about to push past him to go to your room to change, one moment you were marching towards the stairs, the next you found yourself pressed up against the wall, the impact slightly throwing the air out of you.

His face was pressed into your neck, he used his whole body to trap you against the wall. You brought your hands up to push him away, but he grabbed your wrists and slammed them against the wall. He was… bristling. Just like an actual cat as he growled. “Jimin! What the he— Ow!”

He bit you! Like actually bit you! It wasn’t hard enough to make you bleed, but dammit, it hurt!

Jimin growled against your neck, muttering something you couldn’t understand as you continued to struggle against him. He began licking the spot that he had bitten with his rough tongue, making you gasp… and a shiver run down your spine. “Why?”

Breathlessly you ask, “Why what?”

“Why are you covered in another damn cat’s scent? You reek of him!”

Jimin pulled away from your neck enough for you to see his eyes. They were constricted slightly in a diamond shape, something you didn’t know was possible for a Hybrid. This sparked a bit of fear in you. Why? Why was the animalistic side of him pushing against the thin veil of his humanity? You tried to respond, but all you could do was sputter. He grabbed you almost harshly, pulling you away from the wall and spinning you around, pinning you against the wall once again.

That was when you felt it. He was hard. Jimin groaned against your ear and something inside you, despite the slight fear that was quickly dissipating, clenched in need and desire. He leaned into your ear and whispered, "We were all set to stand by and watch you be happy with a normal person. But a Hybrid? If you wanted a Hybrid, any one of us was willing to step up."

You couldn’t help the needy whimper that left your lips as he ground himself against you. “J-Jongin… mmmm… is just a friend!”

Jimin let out a hiss and nipped at your neck, making you squeak. Your cheeks heated up. This shouldn’t have turned you on the way it was. “Don’t you dare say anyone else’s name. You’re mine! Jungkook’s! Hoseok’s! Yoongi’s! You’re all ours!”

Your pelvic floor clenched and the way Jimin stiffened behind you told you that he could smell just how turned on you are. “You want that? For us to make you ours? Mine and Yoongi’s queen? To be Jin’s peahen? Jungkook’s doe? A bitch in heat for the fucking canines?”

His words were making you light headed. It was so brusque. It was so dirty… and you liked it. It had been too long since anyone had spoken to you like this. And you didn’t want him to stop.

Reality came crashing down on you though at the sound of the door opening followed by Hoseok and Taehyung’s voices. You both froze for a moment until you realized that both of them were heading for the kitchen.

You panicked. Squeezing out from under Jimin, you ran. You ran past your dog Hybrid roommates as they called after you, but didn’t stop, even as you practically flew up the stairs.

Taehyung was hot on your heels as always, but you managed to get to your room and lock the door behind you before he could reach you. You heard him panting from the other side of the door. Another set of steps joined him. Hoseok called out your name. “Come on, let’s talk about it.”

“No, Hobi. I need to be alone. Not after what just happened. Not after what was said.”

Taehyung started to call your name, but you cut him short. “Please! Just… leave me alone. I can’t be around any of you. You mess with my head. And I don’t want to mess with yours.”

One of them let out the saddest whimper you had ever heard, but you ignored it, rushing to the bathroom attached to your room. You turned on the shower and stripped your clothes as quickly as you could. Once naked, you hopped into the still cold shower. Grabbing a sponge and your bottle of body wash, you prepared them as hot tears started finding their wait to your eyes.

You started scrubbing furiously at your body, wanting to get rid of the scents that were making them lose their sanity; even if you couldn’t smell them yourself. It wasn’t until your body was scrubbed almost raw and red did you stop.

Dropping the sponge, you sank against the wall of your shower until you were crouched in a fetal position. You bit the inside of your mouth to keep from crying out, lest one of your roommates forced their way in to rescue you.

Salty, hot tears ran down your face as you stared off into nothing, hoping that the water would wash away your confused feelings. But you could still feel him: the way Jimin’s body pressed up against yours, the way he growled, the way it all left you painfully aroused.

Even if you were just beginning to come to terms with your feelings for them, arousal was something else all together. And how could something so… dangerous turn you on like that? It felt… wrong. You had always been, well, vanilla in your sex life. But the implication of just being taken, of being tamed… that both aroused and terrified you. But you wanted it again. You wanted to be touched like that. You wanted to feel him against you again… you wanted them. All of them.

As always, reviews, comments, asks, and tags are always loved! ~Peony

Also, please note that I do NOT do tagging lists. Please see my FAQ for why.

Next (Chapter 9) —>

Agape and Pragma Masterlist

Masterlist

In the meantime, please check out my first smut, Frisky.

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numgul123 · 4 years

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21 Of The Greatest Love Tales From Actual Individuals

Love is actual and these love tales reinforce the magic of affection.

We surveyed our associates and located the perfect love tales on the market. Get pleasure from all these magical tales of true

love

1. “I knew I used to be in love the primary time I noticed him cry in entrance of me. We had been in an extended distance relationship, I used to be dropping him off on the airport after our first week collectively. We had spent quick instances collectively on both aspect of the nation, however this was the primary time we had spent a major time period collectively. It was raining outdoors and I seen his eyes effectively up as I pulled up close to the airport. We embraced and it took all the things I needed to let go. I knew leaving me was so onerous for him as a result of he hadn’t cried in years; he’s not the sort to be susceptible. I needed to verify we by no means needed to say goodbye like that once more. It’s been Four years and there’s now not a 5 hour aircraft trip separating us, each time I have a look at him I really feel simply as cherished as I did in that second.” — Melissa, 27

2. “I watched her maintain her little brother whereas he cried as a result of he was too little to know that their mother was coming again. She’d by no means appeared extra stunning, I felt in that second that she was the perfect particular person I’d ever know.” — Chris, 24

3. “I went to Philly and noticed a mural avenue artwork tour the place you journey on a practice line and all of the murals appear to be they had been written by somebody attempting to inform a practice passenger that they love them, it’s referred to as A Love Letter For You. Each single one felt prefer it was about him, like listening to a music on a loop. ” — Sharanya, 2

4. “We had been strolling my roommates canine and the solar was taking place, it was fall. She checked out me simply because the brightest ray hit her eyes, that are usually a really customary brown, however in that cut up second they had been the brightest gold, and I simply needed to inform her I used to be in love.” — Joseph, 24

5. “He held my hair again whereas I vomited all night time after blacking out at his celebration and making a idiot of myself. The subsequent morning, he had breakfast and ibuprofen on deck. If that aint love, then I don’t know what love is.” — Erin, 25

6. “I knew I cherished her when she was puking in a bin after we acquired house from consuming, she stored yelling “don’t look!” and I swear I simply needed to kiss her.” — Andrew, 22

7. “I heard her snicker within the eating corridor. It was obnoxious. I may hear it from outdoors, up the steps, within the foyer. I needed to discover the woman with that snicker, I swear to God I knew that I felt like if I may make her snicker, I’d have all the things I wanted.” — Cody, 27

8. “He learn a brief story out loud at school. I heard his accent and I used to be hooked, after which his writing moved me to tears, and I used to be so embarrassed and much more hooked.” — Heather, 28

9. “We met on-line and I used to be so nervous going to our date. After I sat down, the very first thing she mentioned to me was, ‘Oh, thank god, you’re not a dude.’ (Apparently guys use lesbian courting apps to fulfill ladies?) And I simply laughed so onerous at that. It actually broke the ice. I don’t know, I believe, wanting again after 2 years collectively, I should have recognized I cherished her then.” — Kim, 27

10. “I noticed him dancing on the bar, like rubbing his ass on one in all my associates. We had been all out collectively and he was laying it on thick to get my associates to love him. He appeared so silly.” — Jamie, 21

11. “We’d solely been seeing one another for 2 weeks when she acquired into a very unhealthy automobile accident. She was within the hospital for a complete weekend, she wakened and barely remembered who I used to be, so I gave her an envelope stuffed with all our texts and the receipts for the primary date we now have printed out. It got here again to her and I noticed I may by no means lose her.” — Luke, 29

12. “I knew I cherished him once I requested him for a cigarette outdoors of a bar and he took out a pack of Marlboro reds, my model.” — Kate, 25

13. “I used to be courting his greatest pal and we had been fairly sad, and I used to be going via my pal’s texts to see if she had been texting her ex once I noticed texts from him, saying that he was in love with me and couldn’t assist it. I do know it’s tousled as a result of I used to be together with his pal, however in that second I knew I used to be silly, head over heels, off my ass in love with him too.” — Christina, 31

14. “My boyfriend and I had been collectively about Three months once I realized I cherished him. It hit me out of nowhere, really. I actually wasn’t positive if him and I had been going to get to that time. One night time, we had been driving again to his condominium and we acquired off the freeway and there was this younger lady crying frantically on the aspect of the street and so he advised me to drag over and he jumped out of the automobile and helped this lady, who had apparently misplaced her cat. He acquired again within the automobile after that and I checked out him like he was a totally totally different particular person. Yeah, that was 5 years in the past. Nonetheless in love.” — Rose, 32

15. “She adopted me into the toilet on the bar simply to make out with me. How may I not fall in love together with her?” — Owen, 24

16. “He met my mother and father and I hadn’t come out but. He was indignant with me for not having come out and I believed the assembly would go horribly fallacious, however when my mother and father requested him how he knew me, he instantly answered by saying ‘I’m his girlfriend’s greatest pal!’ They cherished him. I got here out the following day.” — Sam, 27

17. “He fell on his ass in entrance of me and large group of individuals, it was snowing. I went to assist him up and he pulled me down with him and mentioned ‘it’s not so unhealthy down right here with a reasonably woman.’ So tacky, so excellent.” — Sarah, 23

18. “I do know that is the cheesiest factor ever and I by no means thought this type of stuff occurs till it occurred to me. I knew i cherished her the second I noticed her. It was immediate. I used to be utterly mesmerized by her. Then, she laughed at one thing her pal mentioned, and I used to be like, that is it for me. I must know this lady instantly. Fortunately, she fell in love with me, too.” — Kwesi, 29

19. “Wakened from a dream the place she didn’t exist, that was the entire dream. We’d solely been courting for a couple of weeks, however I had this dream the place I couldn’t discover her and I wakened sweating. I felt like I knew what love felt like, the sensation that you just couldn’t probably lose that particular person.” — Brendan, 23

20. “Once we kissed for the primary time and he or she was AWFUL however I needed to maintain kissing her anyway, I knew it was love.” — Kyle, 20

21. “I’ve been in love earlier than however I’m undecided if there was ever a particular second the place I simply ‘knew.’ I believe love kind of occurs slowly, then all of sudden. It’s just like the particular person is there, they’ve at all times been there, however you begin noticing little particulars about them – the way in which they snicker once they assume one thing is de facto humorous, how they give the impression of being within the morning once they’re drained and quiet, the small noises they make once they’re getting snug – all of this stuff they’ve been doing for years they don’t even understand they do anymore however are utterly distinctive to them and new to you. Every second of discovery will increase simply how endearing you discover them till it builds up and builds up after which you don't have any selection however to blurt out “I LOVE YOU!” when doing one thing completely mundane collectively like searching for glassware at Goal or standing in line at a live performance.” — Jeanne, 25

Be happy to share your real love tales within the feedback!

Bonus: 6 Heartwarming Love Tales About Misplaced Loves Lastly Reuniting

1. like being struck by lightning: “Reuniting with my misplaced love was like being struck by lightning. He and I had been in a severe relationship again in highschool 30 years in the past. My mom didn't approve of our relationship and sadly despatched me out of the realm to maintain me away from him….Then this previous October I obtained an e mail….We emailed forwards and backwards for a couple of weeks after which I spoke with him on the telephone and that’s when the dam broke! All of the feelings got here pouring down on me simply listening to his voice. In a really quick time it grew to become clear that we had very robust emotions for each other….Proper now we're going to be seeing one another month-to-month, and I might be promoting my property on the finish of the college 12 months to maneuver as much as his space. I really like him with all my coronary heart and soul and don’t care what faults he has. I might do something for him. It’s onerous for those who haven’t skilled this to know it. By no means in my wildest desires may I've imagined this to occur. It's a curler coaster of very intense emotions that don’t at all times make sense to me! And it’s so onerous to be other than him now! When my mom broke us up, she returned his class ring that he had given me to his mom. For Christmas, he discovered the category ring, and wrapped it up for me, I used to be very touched. I put on it round my neck on a gold chain now to remind me of him. I look to our future with a lot hope and optimism.”

2. I'm so pleased: “In 1998 I met the love of my life in Sudan. A beautiful Sudanese musician who introduced out the perfect in me day by day. His presence in my life was just like the solar shining in. When he carried out, he sang for me solely. I used to be working in Sudan on the time, we had been going to get married and have stunning youngsters and reside fortunately ever after. There was a battle happening, I used to be working with war-affected youngsters and the federal government kicked me out. I used to be devastated and cried for six months. Heartbroken for years. We didn't handle to fulfill up once more and we each married unhappily. Final week, after 14 years, we had been reunited for two days and the love is as robust as ever. I really feel so blessed. Too previous to have these youngsters now, however that is going to be the perfect 12 months ever as we're free to journey and see one another. My dream of gracefully rising previous with him is coming true in spite of everything….I'm so pleased.”

3. The emotions and feelings got here flooding again with a vengeance: “Met my misplaced love virtually 30 years in the past in highschool….In a nutshell we shared chemistry and a sexual rigidity that was palpable to these round us. We often kissed (typically passionately), however by no means crossed the road from associates to lovers. After three years of being associates, hanging out and serving to one another (right here and there) our friendship blossomed into one thing extra. We lastly shared a kiss that was simple. Sadly, parental disapproval was the trigger for me leaving my love. We drifted aside and our contact to one another grew to become much less and fewer. Nonetheless, I by no means forgot her though after 20 years I ‘thought’ the previous was the previous. We just lately reconnected and determined to fulfill one afternoon and get caught up on the intervening years, nothing extra. What occurred subsequent was so surprising. The emotions and feelings got here flooding again with a vengeance. It was as if our relationship had been positioned on maintain. We rekindled our relationship inside of 1 week. Our second-chance relationship has been essentially the most emotionally charged relationship of my life. The fears, feelings, grief, regrets, all the things—all the things got here again like a flood. Over the following few months we talked about all the things possible. We married in simply over 6 months. My soulmate, my love, and now—my spouse….Our rekindled relationship has been essentially the most unbelievable journey, that began virtually three a long time in the past and lasted via all these lonely years.”

4. I needed to combat again tears: “As a young person, I had the type of love that everybody desires of discovering. My most cherished reminiscence is an unbelievable feeling of oneness once we would maintain one another and shed tears of pleasure whereas being overwhelmed by love. At such instances, there was no want for phrases as a result of we simply knew. She had extra of an affect on my life than anybody else that I've recognized….After drawing me away from unhealthy influences once we acquired collectively, she began hanging out with the fallacious crowd 4 years later. Being younger, formidable, and silly, I broke up together with her so as to save myself from being drawn again within the fallacious path. I at all times had second ideas about that call and by no means stopped loving her. I used to be haunted by the reminiscence of her final phrases once we broke up, which had been ‘I really like you.’…I lastly determined that I needed to contact her about 30 years after we broke up, 25 years since I final noticed her, and 20 years since her final letter….I used to be thrilled that she was pleased to listen to from me and that she had been looking for me….Throughout the lengthy drive to our hometown, I needed to combat again tears each time I believed what it might be prefer to look into her eyes for the primary time in a long time…I instantly felt snug together with her, and we picked up proper the place left off a few years in the past. She stored her hair lengthy, and it felt so good to run a brush via it once more. Behaving like youngsters, we spent the primary night going parking and listening to our favourite songs….We by no means acquired to spend the night time collectively as youngsters. When it lastly occurred, I lay there beside her awake all night time pondering how fortunate I used to be to have her again.”

5. even a continent couldn’t separate us: “Three-year-old Anne moved together with her household to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, simply 4 homes down from my household; I used to be 5, and we two grew to become instant associates. I used to be Anne’s protector and hero….I hadn’t spoken to Anne in additional than 30 years, however I knew her sister lived in Denver so I gave her a name once I arrived. She advised me that Anne additionally lived on the town, and he or she advised that all of us get collectively. As quickly as Anne and I noticed one another, our hearts had been singing. All the pleasure and pleasure they we had skilled collectively as youngsters reworked itself right into a mature kind; we had been in love. We noticed one another as soon as extra earlier than I returned to Pennsylvania and Anne left for Europe to spend the Christmas vacation season together with her youngsters. However now even a continent couldn’t separate us. At the moment we live our lives collectively, once more with pleasure, enthusiasm, and pleasure!…And naturally now we now have our youngsters, too. What a miracle!”

6. Now we’ve misplaced all of our teenage inhibitions: “Eric and I met in 1950 and from the second we started courting I knew we had been made for one another. We had a lot enjoyable—Eric was at all times making me snicker…I by no means forgot about Eric. Each time I heard our music, ‘Jealous Coronary heart’, by Connie Francis, I recalled the primary time Eric kissed me….[Then one day] I used to be serving on the bar when a voice I’d not heard for practically 40 years requested me if there was any likelihood of a pint. I appeared up and there was Eric, the hair was greyer and the face a bit of extra wrinkled however aside from that he was simply as good-looking as ever….Our relationship is simply as passionate and bodily as earlier than, though now we’ve misplaced all of our teenage inhibitions.”

#selfimprovement selfimprovements SelfImprovementEveryday SelfImprovementsDaily selfimprovementcoach selfimprovementismydrug selfimprovementp

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