#I just layed on the sofa all day monday =[

[plushri]

I made a new study plan weeks ago and I haven't been able to do it even once so can we all please manifest a good health high spoon low pain day for me please <3

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 3

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts

Johnny has a good day.

Tw: ableism; implied sexual assault

#

That night you dream about fucking the two neighbors in 5C.

It’s good sex, too. You can tell by the sweat slicking your skin and the ache in your thighs. You are naked on the big one’s lap, his huge hands on your hips while he bounces you on his cock. Behind you, the shorter one loops his one arm around your waist and grinds his cock against your bare arse. 

“Did Jesus send ye?” his voice rasps against the sensitive side of your neck. You tilt your head to give him more room to suck and kiss and bite. Then, as his hand slips down to tease where you need a soft touch the most: “Are you gonna finish me off?” 

The one beneath you cums, a flood of warmth deep within your aching cunt. His groans have you teetering on the edge of your cut of the pleasure. You lean down to kiss him, but before your mouths can meet, hands grip your hips and lift you free—his cock slides out with a wet rush of fluids, leaving you feeling cracked open and empty.  

Your boyfriend passes you on to his friends who are waiting for their turn with you, and then it is no longer a dream, but a memory. 

#

Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are for physical therapy. Tuesdays and Thursdays are for cognitive rehabilitation. Both of these are paid for by the British government and accomplished in the ‘comfort’ of Johnny’s own home. Like that’s supposed to help; he’s going to have to sweat (literally) and bleed (probably figuratively), but as long as it’s on his own carpet, that’s quite all right. Johnny isn’t sure which he hates more, the physical or cognitive rehab. Both hurt, just in different places; one hurts the stump of his arm, the muscles of his shoulders and neck, his fake knee. The other hurts his pride, leaves him tired and second guessing his broken mind. 

The other scares him. It’s one thing to lose his arm—one terrible, traumatizing thing. But the idea that he’s going (or gone) simple is too much to take.

The cognitive rehabilitation therapist’s name is Anna. She wears horn-rimmed glasses and sloppy buns that Johnny fantasizes about gripping in his fist and throttling her with during their less productive sessions. 

By sessions, he means they play games together. Simon sits on the sofa in the living room pretending not to watch. He thinks he’s so fucking clever, turning his pages even, but Johnny knows. Simon’s gaze is a tangible thing, as physical as a touch, like a finger running up the back of his neck. There’s no hiding from it. You don’t get a name like Ghost without raising the hairs on some people’s arms with just your eyes. 

“It’s your turn, Johnny.” 

“I fuckin’ know it. Sorry—sorry.” 

Anna puts up a hand to stall his sorries. She is younger than he is; shouldn’t she be older? Wouldn’t that make this less painful? “Take your time.” 

It’s a simple matching game. There are less than a dozen tiles left on the board, and Johnny has seen most of them two or three times by now. He keeps forgetting their placements, even though he is burdened with the memory of having chosen them. 

His shaking fingers reach for a tile…a red car. Sweat breaks out on his brow. He’s seen this fucking Red Car no less than six times. His fingers hover over the board, moving from one tile to the next. Here? Or here? If he sees the Rose again, he’ll lose his head; he knows it. He can feel his blood pressure rising like the mercury in a thermometer, up up and away, blackness eating at the edge of his vision.  

Finally, with absolutely no idea where the other red car is, he picks a tile at random. 

Red Car. 

Johnny shouts out in triumph, holding up the tile for Simon to see. Even Anna—eternally unimpressed Anna—gives him a smile, infected by his joy. 

“Good job—now do it again.” 

Groaning, he picks up another tile. 

Rose. 

#

“Come lay down with me,” he says to Ghost after taking two of the green, oval pills that are the only things which take the edge off his pain. They make him so fucking tired, though—perhaps that’s their secret; if they can’t take the pain away, they’ll at least help him sleep through it. 

“Alright,” says Simon, putting his book down. He doesn’t bother marking his place; they both know he wasn’t reading it.  

The two of them slip into the bedroom. It isn’t much: a bed against the southern wall, the doors leading out onto the balcony—blinds pulled shut to keep out any hopeful rays of sunshine, a desk piled high with medical bills that the government will front. 

Johnny is pretty good about getting his shirt off with just one arm. He reaches up and back, gripping the collar, and tugs it off over his head in a smooth, fluid motion. He’s thinner after his three-month stint first in the hospital and then in inpatient rehabilitation, but he still looks good. 

He hates the stump where his arm used to be, but today he doesn’t even care. It’s a good day, a purely tolerable day. He presses himself against Simon and kisses him, the first true-kiss he can remember giving him since the accident, though his memory is not what it used to be. Simon’s hands—large and warm and strong—settle on his waist pulling him closer. It’s desperate and messy, too much teeth and tongue, neither of them quite settling into the old easy dance they used to be capable of; likely because they aren’t the same people anymore. 

“Fuck, I want you,” Johnny pants against Simon’s feral mouth.

“You can’t,” Simon grits out, dragging Johnny’s hardened cock against his own. 

“Like hell I can’t!” Though…already his knee throbs, a deep ache punctuated by glass-like shards of sharpness when he bends it. He could take it—but it would hurt. But fuck, what doesn’t hurt these days? “I need you, Ghost.” 

Simon grips him by the hair which has grown out too long and badly needs trimmed. He tugs back til Johnny’s neck pops uncomfortably. “You’ll take what I give you,” Simon says, sounding on the verge of madness, at least as desperate as Johnny feels. 

“‘n what? I can’t beg for more?” 

“Oh, you can beg,” says Simon darkly. 

He pins Johnny against the sliding doors of the balcony, rustling the blinds around his body. Knees bent to bring them to just the right height, he fists both their cocks in one large hand, his face buried in Johnny’s neck, muffling groans against his skin.

“Yes,” Johnny gasps, his nails digging into Simon’s back. “Yes, jus’ like that—fuck! Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t—“

Simon keeps jerking off his spent cock well after Johnny cums, even after he begins whining and pulling back, shoulders thudding against the glass doors behind him. Ghost makes Johnny fuck his fist through the sensitivity until he cums too, both their seed slickening his hand and turning the sound of his handjob filthy-wet. 

“Thank you,” Johnny sighs, blissed out. He doesn’t feel any pain, not in his stump or his knee or his head or anywhere. Maybe it’s the pills, but maybe it’s Ghost. Maybe it’s the relief of knowing they haven’t fucked up their relationship beyond all repair, that they’re still capable of loving one another like this. “I needed that. 

Simon feeds two fingers soaked in cum past Johnny’s full lips, relishing the way his hot mouth sucks the digits clean. He admits: “So did I.” 

He cleans them both up and they curl up on the bed together for Johnny’s afternoon nap—the doctors say all the sleep he needs is good for his brain. 

Simon doesn’t intend to fall asleep. But he does. 

And when he wakes, Johnny is not there beside him. 

#

You’re just thinking how cold it is out on the balcony, wondering if it is worth it to risk going back inside for a sweater, when the balcony doors from 5C open and out steps the man you almost hit with your car. He looks likely to be cold as well, wearing only a t-shirt and loose pants, his feet bare against the concrete. 

A cigarette is tucked in the corner of his mouth, unlit. He gapes at you, and it falls to the balcony floor. Glancing behind himself into the darkness of his apartment, he shuts the door with careful tenderness before bending down with a wince to pick up his cigarette. 

 The sleeve of his missing arm dangles innocuously. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone out here.” 

“Sorry,” you say on instinct. It’s ingrained in you; a lifetime’s worth of apologies. “I can go in and give you some privacy.” 

“World’s big enough for two,” Johnny says coolly. There are chairs out here, but he doesn’t sit. Instead he leans against the doors with his good side and pretends to look out. It’s a lovely view of the parking lot. You do the same, except you can see the spot from here where you almost hit him with your car, and it makes your stomach turn. Speaking of: “Sorry about all that in the parking lot. My temper got the best o’ me.” 

“I’m the one who should be sorry,” you admit. “I was distracted. I can’t say it enough, I’m so—so sorry.” 

“Water under the bridge,” he says. He holds out the only hand he has left. “Johnny MacTavish.” 

You hold out your own left hand, shaking via air from the distance between your balconies. When you give him your name, he mutters it under his breath two, three, four times. 

“I’m going to forget that,” he warns you at length with a sad little laugh, fiddling with the unlit cigarette still in his hand. “It’s not you, it’s me.” 

“It’s alright,” you forgive. “It’s pretty forgettable.” 

Johnny frowns, putting the cigarette back in his mouth and working his hand into his pocket. His accent is so sweet to listen to, syrupy and dropping the consonants off of his words as he assures you: “Didn’t say that, did I, lass? Don’t get twisted.” 

Mollified and embarrassed in equal measure at his simple admonishment, you duck your head. 

“Got a broken brain,” he says in explanation, reaching up to tap the cigarette against the scars at his temple. “Forgot one of my own sisters’ names on the phone last week and she wept like a bairn. In my defense, I have several of them.” 

“I forget people’s names and I don’t have a head injury,” you say. 

Johnny snorts softly, the sound carried away by the wind.

He withdraws a lighter, one of the cheap disposable ones you can buy beside the registers at gas stations. His hand shakes as he tries to spin the sparkwheel once, twice, thrice, but no dice. Johnny takes a deep, slow breath, like a little boy trying not to lose his temper. He tries again, the familiar noise of steel rasping on steel, but no spark. 

You wait, patiently, eyes turned out toward the parking lot as he begins muttering curses beneath his breath. Anxiety itches beneath your skin. His building anger is a tangible thing in the air like heat thrown off by a lit flame or the smell of burnt rubber, tires squealing in the parking lot as you slam on the breaks. A man’s anger is familiar to you. It predicts pain. Your skin flashes hot and then cold, and you are just about to make a polite escape inside when: 

“Can you catch?” he asks, sending your gaze swerving to him from the parking lot.

“Can I—? Fuck!” you throw your hands up just in time, scrambling for the lighter even though he only tosses it underhanded like an easy pitch for a tee-baller. It slips from one of your sweaty hands to the other like a slapstick comedy routine, but it doesn’t clatter to the concrete nor does it fall off the balcony altogether. Holding it in your hand, you light it easily to make sure it works, missing the hungry, bitter expression that comes over his face when you do. “How? I can’t reach you from here.” 

“We can meet in the middle.” 

You can’t. Even with him outstretching from his side of the balcony and you from your own, there is a good half a meter of distance between you both. You can’t help but remember the other man’s words—I just want one fucking cigarette without worrying about him taking a swan dive off the balcony. 

“Be careful,” you admonish when Johnny slips a little, his ribs digging into the iron-wrought railing. He doesn’t have good balance, you realize. Does losing an arm fuck something like that up? The answer you don’t know: it fucks up everything. Taking a deep breath, you glance over the rail and take note of how high you are from the ground. High enough for a healthy splat should you fall…

“Forget it,” he says morosely, his brows low. He is the picture of dejection, a kicked dog. “Doctors say ‘m not supposed to smoke anymore anyway.” 

“Don’t they say that to everyone? Just—hang on.” Tucking the lighter into your pocket, you throw one leg over the railing. 

“What are yeh—you-uuu fucking nutter,” he laughs as you test the stability of the railing. It doesn’t shift or creak at all under your weight. Heart in your throat, you lift your other leg over, feet lodged in the narrow space between the railing and the concrete floor. Gripping the rail with a tight fist, you let your weight lean into the space between your balconies, reaching into your pocket to remove the lighter and flick it to life. 

Johnny looks like he could laugh or cry or both, stretching out his shaking arm so you can light the cigarette and then quickly bringing it to his mouth to suck it to life. 

“Yer crazy,” he says breathlessly, words tinted with smoke as he watches you scramble back over the railing and to safety. 

The sliding doors open. For a moment, you mistake the sound for being closer than it is—for being your boyfriend finally noticing how long you’ve been gone and coming to find you. He’s going to find you out here with Johnny and the same arguments will be born all over again—arguments about your disloyalty.

But it’s Johnny’s doors which slide open. The taller man comes out, the circles under his eyes standing out darkly  against his pale skin in the late afternoon light. At the sight of Johnny, an expression of raw, poignant relief comes over his face. 

Johnny drops the cigarette over the ledge of the balcony, face sheepish. 

“Was just meeting our bonnie neighbor,” says Johnny, slipping his arm around the other man’s waist. If there was any doubt left of what they were to each other, it disappears: seeing them together, you can see the magnetism that draws them together. They act like plants which turn toward the sunlight, except they are the sunlight. The bitterness inside you rises up in the back of your throat. “Grateful to be doing it without a car in between us. This is Simon.” 

“Nice to meet you,” says Simon. 

“You too,” you offer, like perfect strangers. 

You don’t find the lighter still in the pocket of your pants until later, when it is past midnight as you are collecting your clothes from the floor, aching between your legs and raw-eyed from crying. You flick the sparkwheel, watching the flame come alive. Glancing behind you, you make sure your boyfriend is fast asleep before creeping to your dresser drawers, opening the one with your socks, and shoving the lighter towards the back as far as you can. 

[reenthinks]

[2:06]

It had been one of your more stressful days. Work seemed to keep piling up with no end in sight. You grew increasingly frustrated with every new document on your desk, shoulders slumping more and more as the day went by. Finally, it was 5:00. Quickly tidying up your space as best you could, you made your way home.

Mingyu had an off that day. He slept in (he kissed you goodbye ofc). Woke up around 12:30; had a nice cup of tea with some butter toast. He spent the rest of his day doing little chores around the house. Dusting, mopping, vacuuming (he even went out and restocked on milk, butter and eggs). Now, he was sitting on the couch watching some TV, a freshly baked lasagna sitting on the countertop behind him.

He perks up, hearing the muffled sound of keys jingling outside, the dull click of the door unlocking and the muted thump of your bag landing on the floor. He watches as you trudge in, dropping the keys in the bowl. Your fatigue is evident in your posture.

“Hey, baby. Long day?”

You wordlessly walk to where he’s sitting on the sofa and plop down in his lap, your head tucked snugly in the crook of his neck.

“That bad, huh?” He mumbles, fingers finding their way to your shoulders to try to relieve some of the tension. You hum into his neck as he finds a particularly tense knot. “You hungry? I made your favorite.”

You sigh. “Can’t move.”

“Not a problem, sweetheart.”

Next thing you know, his hands are securing themselves under your thighs and he’s off the sofa, walking towards the island.

He sets you down on one of the stools and pulls out two plates and forks for the both of you. You watch drowsily as he plates some lasagna and pushes it towards you before getting some for himself. You buffer a little before reaching for the fork.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Very very slowly, you tell him about your day and all the deadlines you have to meet which you’re falling behind on and how the workload just keeps increasing with no end in sight. It just seemed to get so monotonous to the point you think you’d actually go insane. Mingyu was your breath of fresh air, but even he could only do so much. You needed a break. The bags under your eyes only got darker and your posture, worse. You were being overworked. Any more of that and it would become a serious health concern. Not that it wasn’t already. Mingyu never failed to remind you of it either, making sure you were taking all your necessary vitamins and eating healthy.

“Y/n, if you don’t ask your boss for a week off tomorrow, I will barge in there myself and do what I have to do to get you one.”

You smile at him. “Tomorrow‘s Saturday, baby.”

He flusters a little. “Whatever, on Monday, you know what I mean.”

He was adorable. You could watch him yap about health and food and exercise and proper rest forever. Leaning over, you lay a hand on the side of his face. He stutters his words a little before going silent, looking at you with those puppy eyes of his, the picture of innocence. You feel your heart swell up with this feeling of immeasurable love and affection. You don’t really know what to do with it. So, you do what you’ve always done in such a situation. You kiss him. Slow and sweet. A little aggressive but that was your M.O at this point.

“I love you.” You manage between kisses.

“I love you more.” Mingyu returns.

Pulling his lip between your teeth as you break apart, you smile at him. “I love you most.”

“I love you 3000.” He laughs, obnoxiously, as though he’s won a really important argument.

“Whatever, most is still most.” You argue back, already feeling some of the tension from earlier leave your body.”

He chuckles a little, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Okay, okay, whatever you say. Now, finish eating and then how about a shower?”

“Only if you join me.” You wink at him.

He gasps, a hand over his mouth. “Y/n! That is most inappropriate.”

“Fine then, I’ll just take it alone.”

“No, that’s not what I mea-“

“Nope, one time offer. You passed on it.” You tut.

He pulls out those puppy eyes of his. “One last chance.”

“Okay, fine. But no funny business, mister. I’m tired.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You laugh, taking a forkful of the lasagna. “This is amazing, by the way”

“Yeah? Good, I’m glad you like it.”

“You’re an amazing wife.” You shoot him a finger heart.

He chuckles. “Yeah, well you better watch and learn cuz that’ll be your title someday.”

[lynzishell]

The Past 🩵 Asher

By Saturday night, I’d started doing that thing where I obsessively check my phone every five minutes to see if I’d somehow missed a call or text from Atlas. I hate when I get like that, it always makes me feel a bit pathetic. So, today, I decided I needed a distraction and drove out to the Bay to visit my family, but mostly to visit Jasper, let’s be honest.

I ended up spending the entire day on the beach, running with him, playing fetch and sitting on the lounger drawing pictures of red maple leaves while he chased birds. All the while, trying to ignore my gut telling me something is wrong.

I would have stayed all night, slept in my old bed with my dog at my feet, but trying to commute to the city on a Monday morning is miserable, so I came home.

Now, I’m lying on the sofa, my legs stretched across Lex’s lap as we watch a movie. Some sci-fi her friend recommended about a bunch of kids and aliens or something. I’d probably enjoy it, but I can’t get myself to pay attention.

I finally had to turn my phone on Do Not Disturb because I got tired of the disappointment that came over me after every notification. Now at least my phone would stay dark and silent unless it was Atlas, my parents, or my sister calling. Even still, I can’t stop glancing at it as it sits on the coffee table mocking me. A pit growing in my stomach with each passing hour.

I barely register Lex’s voice as she comments on something that just happened in the movie. When I don’t respond she nudges me, “Hey, are you watching?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh really? Then, what just happened?”

I sigh and look up at her, chewing at my lip and feeling a bit guilty that I’m unable to answer.

She pauses the movie, a look of concern crossing her face as she asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I look away, really not wanting to admit to my pining, but also tired of suffering in silence. “Atlas said he’d call, but he never did, and I’m being emo about it.” I roll my eyes so she knows that I know exactly how ridiculous I’m being.

“Aww, babe, scoot over.” She squeezes herself between me and the back of the couch so that she’s laying with me, her head on my shoulder, and her arm wrapped around me. I can always count on Lex for a good cuddle when I need it. “I'm sure he just got busy or something. You know how it is.”

“You’re probably right. I’m being silly.”

“Nah, you just like him, that’s all.”

“I really do. I don’t know though; I have a bad feeling.”

“What do you mean?”

“He just seemed, I don’t know, agitated when we said goodbye. Like he’d been spooked or something, but I can’t imagine why.”

“What did you do to the poor boy?” She claws her fingers at my side where she knows I’m ticklish.

“Ah! Nothing,” I half shout and half laugh as I yank her hand away, “Stop!”

“Sorry,” she giggles, not an ounce of remorse in her voice as she boops my nose before bringing her hand to rest on my chest, “I’m sure everything’s fine,” she reassures me, “You’ll feel better when you see him at work in the morning.”

I give her a squeeze, appreciating her for trying to comfort me instead of giving me shit. I’m not sure I’d’ve done the same for her if our roles were reversed, and I silently vow to be a better friend. “I love you, y’know.”

“I know. I love you too,” she reaches over and moves my phone out of sight so I can’t stare at it anymore, “Can we watch the movie now?”

“Yeah, go ahead and play it.”

Prev // Next

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | wolfstar x reader

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 6.1 K Warnings: none Prompt: The day after the race has you feeling sore, and after taking a potion to mitigate the pain, you ened up blabering a lot of your thoughts out in the world. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

ANOUNCMENT:

In a couple of weeks I'll make a Q&A to cellebrate Gilded Constellations reaching 100,000 words. And I'd love for all of you to be a part of it. So send in your questions, they can be anything you want, things like: How did you get the idea? Where does inspo come from? writing tips (I mean I don’t know much but anyway), character design, fancast, fav characters, things about me, about my plot notebook, literally anything you want, ask away (just state: For Q&A event or something) &lt;3

Chapter 12: You really got me. 

October 4th, 1976 - Monday

On Monday you woke up early but you were sore. The fall from the broom had finally taken its toll on your body, and you pretty much dragged yourself to the bathroom to get changed for flying, or maybe to go to the infirmary first, you weren’t sure which one was going to be more relevant by the time you managed to walk down the stairs. 

You somehow changed your clothes and quietly walked downstairs. James and Sirius hadn’t come down yet, so you let yourself fall on the couch awkwardly. Looking at the faint stars you had placed on the ceiling a couple of weeks ago. 

“Morning (Y/N),” Said James from the stairs when he spotted you “Didn’t expect you to be here today.” 

You frowned at his words “What? Why wouldn’t I be?” 

He looked at you with raised eyebrows “Your broom?” 

You gasped at that. He was right, you didn’t have a broom. “It… It went completely past me, shit.” 

He smiled and sat on the sofa next to yours “Sirius said he’s gonna skip today, I thought I’d be flying alone.”  

“Is he feeling sore?” 

“He was complaining so much this morning I didn’t expect you to even come to class.” 

You laughed “I mean, I do feel like I’ve been hit by a truck but, flying always makes me feel better.”

“Why don’t you borrow his broom? I’m sure he’ll say yes.” James said, it was an excellent idea. 

“Do you think the rest’ll mind if I…” you stated, motioning upstairs with your finger. 

James shook his head “Nah, go ahead. Peter sleeps like a log, you won’t wake him even if you bang on the door, and Sirius and Remus are already awake.” 

You nodded, and walked upstairs, towards the boys’ room. Once in front of the thick wooden door you knocked on it softly “Come in,” you heard Sirius’ muffled voice, probably by a pillow. And so you carefully opened the door. 

“Morning,” you said when you saw Sirius laying on his bed, head still buried on his pillow. 

He turned his head around casually “Oh, morning love.” He said once he noticed it was you “What are you doing here? you should be in bed. Aren’t you in pain too?” 

Sirius Black was really chatty in the mornings. You nodded in response, “I wanted to fly still.” 

He arched an eyebrow “Can’t miss one day of practice?” 

You shook your head “The wind always makes me feel good.” 

He nodded “Why are you here then? Couldn’t bear to go without me?” He teased.

“You wish,” you replied with a smile “I came to borrow your–“ 

You started, but then their bathroom door opened wide and Remus stepped out. With his pants loosely hanging over his waist, and both of his arms holding the towel he was using to dry his hair, shirtless. And holy mother of Jesus, Remus Lupin was hiding real muscles under all those sweaters. You could see the gush he’d gotten the day you’d found him on the hospital, and he hadn’t been lying, he really did heal fast. He turned his back, you stared for a second as his muscles flexed. Minho wished he had that back, the girls have no clue or they’d be lusting over the sexy pirate here instead, you thought. But after the initial shock you realised he had many more scars there than over his face, you wondered how the hell he’d gotten so many cuts and made a mental note to ask him one day, when you were closer.  

When he turned again and saw you’d been there he looked like a deer trapped in the headlights. “Ugh– sorry.” You said and turned around quickly, facing the door “didn’t mean to– I was just here to borrow Sirius’ broom.” 

“It’s ok,” you heard Remus’ calm voice from behind you. He was in fact not ok, but he figured I’d be weird if a boy panicked over someone seeing his chest, so he played it cool. “I’m not naked or anything.” 

“Right!” You said turning back around, he was already buttoning his own shirt, “I’m ugh– happy you’re better,” you said, passing your hand over your chest so he knew what you were talking about, “I thought I’d take longer to heal.” 

“Moony heals fast,” said Sirius, finding a quick excuse for his friend. 

“And madam Pomfrey’s an amazing mediwitch,” Remus added. 

You nodded, “I’m actually going to see her before flying,” you told them “Hope she can get me some pain killer potion or something.” 

“You’re sore too?” Remus asked with concern. 

You nodded “Like I was thrown off my broom at incredibly high speeds and rolled on the ground several times, yeah…” You said ironically. 

“I think you meant: saved by an incredibly handsome wizard from being hit by a tree.” Sirius corrected, you chuckled “Moony’s got some though, right?” 

“Do you?” You asked, looking at the taller boy, who was now fumbling with his tie. He nodded absentmindedly as he struggled to get the knot right, he was still nervous about his scars. You smiled and pulled your wand out, pointing at his neck “Ligatura Cravatia,” you mumbled, his tie suddenly escaped from his fingers and tied itself neatly.

He looked at you surprised, “Thanks!” 

You nodded “I could not tie a tie for the life of me,” you mentioned casually “had to learn an easier way.”  

Remus nodded and leaned in to open a drawer from his side table, it was filled with potions and infusions, and he took out a small vial, of which there seemed to be many, and handed it over to you. “Take half of that now and half of it when you feel sore again,” he explained. 

You nodded, thanking him as you took it from his hands, Sirius spoke “You made me take the whole thing. It tastes awful!” 

“Yeah Sirius, you’re almost as big as me, (Y/N) is tiny. I’d be too much for her.” You frowned at that.

 Tiny?, you thought, It wasn’t your fault Remus was so freakishly tall. Average, at least.

“Hm…” Sirius responded unconvinced and then looked at you “It’s under the bed.” 

“What is?” You asked confused.

“My broom?” He said with a frown “maybe you really just came to see me,” he said with a charming smile. 

You laughed at his teasing “Wouldn’t you like that?” You told him before leaning down to grab his broom from under the bed. You spotted some cassette tapes on a small box there too and smiled. Of course Sirius would keep his music like that. When you finally stood up you smiled at him “Thanks Puppy, you’re the best!” You said as you stepped out of their room. 

“You owe me one!” He shouted as you closed the door, to anyone it may seem he meant for the favour, but you knew what he actually meant with that, which only made you smile to yourself. Once you were back downstairs you were already in a better mood than that of which you had woken up with. 

James had fallen asleep on the couch, so you nudged him awake and the two of you walked towards the courtyard. As you walked through the halls you pulled out the little vial and drank half of the liquid, as Remus had advised. You winced, Sirius wasn’t being overly dramatic, it truly tasted awful, bitter and it lingered, almost like earwax. 

“Oh, is that Moony’s get-better-soon potion?” James asked casually, taking it from your hands.

You nodded “He gave it to me, to help with the soreness.” 

James nodded and gave it back “Be careful where you put it, one time it broke over his clothes and he had to throw them away, no spell would remove the foul smell from it.” You nodded, placing it where you thought it’d be better off “What are you going to do about your broom?”

“I actually sent a letter home last night, I asked them to send me my old Viper, and I sent the Dark Nimbus bits to the factory, asking them if there was a way to fix it.” 

“That was actually a great solution, I was gonna offer you my Phoenix Blaze but your Viper probably has more stability, and you’ll need it, especially since you’re our star keeper.” 

You laughed “We haven’t even played an actual match and yet you call me that.” 

“I know talent when I see it.” 

You nudged him lightly with your elbow and the two of you laughed. James was just so likeable, even if he was a little arrogant, he was noble and kind, and you were so happy you’d made him your friend. The two of you reached the courtyard soon after and then you were in the air. James didn’t want to push you too much so instead of having you do standard exercises he decided to let you pretty much do whatever you wanted. 

And you just flew, doing some twirls and circles in the air, but nothing too crazy. You loved the feeling of the air hitting your face, and the wind blowing all around you. Today was particularly windy, so you decided to fly even higher than you had before and allowed yourself to bask on the sun above the clouds. Once James realised how far up you were, he quickly caught up with you. “You alright?” He asked. 

You opened your eyes and turned to him, nodding “Just enjoying the day.” You told him “It’s a beautiful day…” 

You looked so at peace, almost too at peace. And then he remembered the effect the potion had once had on Remus, the time he took it on an empty stomach, it dumbed him out until he fell asleep in the middle of his favourite class, you didn’t look far from that, so he urged you to come down “I think we should probably go back down,” he said. 

You shook your head “But it’s so nice here, James.” 

“We’re definitely coming back down,” he said then, and flew closer to you, grabbing your arm and dragging you behind him towards the floor. Once close to the courtyard he let you land by yourself, and you checked your wrist watch.

“It’s still early.” 

“Yeah, we need to get you some food,” he told you, and the two of you walked towards the Great Hall. Only a couple of people were there so early. You sat down on the spot closest to the door and placed both of your elbows on the table, leaning your chin against your hands, and stared absentmindedly to the food. James grabbed some oatmeal and served it on a plate, dropping strawberries and other blueberries on them. Then he placed the plate in front of you. “Eat up,” he said. 

You looked at the food he’d placed and nodded, grabbing a spoonful and slowly bringing it all the way to your mouth “Thanks James,” you mumbled once you swallowed “you even added the fruit I like.” 

James nodded, as he served himself some eggs “Remus was telling me the other day that you almost always exclusively grab strawberries and blueberries.” 

“Mhm,” you agreed. “Remus is very observant, and strong.” 

James frowned “He’s what?” 

“Like really strong, under all those layers he wears, I didn’t know, but today I found out…” you said casually, only later realizing what you’d said “What the fuck did I just say?” 

James just laughed and decided to tease you for it “Merlin (Y/N)! Don’t thirst over my friends when I’m around.”

“I… I wasn’t– I didn’t… What the flipping hell did he make me drink?” You asked, placing your hands over your dizzy head and leaning in on the table. 

“It’s because you haven’t eaten.” He told you “You’d be surprised what he said that one time,” James said, recalling how a couple of years ago Remus had gone on and on about the colour of Sirius’ eyes. 

You looked at him, took a deep breath and started to gobble up your food, which just caused your friend to laugh even further as he casually plopped some bacon into his mouth. 

Remus and Peter arrived a couple of minutes later, and you buried your head in your second serving of oatmeal when you spotted the taller boy. Remus sat in front of you and Peter by his side. 

“You didn’t warn her to eat it before taking it,” James told Remus reproachfully. 

“Fuck,” he whispered in response. 

“You’re fucking lucky she was flying with me and not by herself.” He said again, James was surprisingly stern about it, and it wasn’t because you were his star keeper or his cyrano, but he’d genuinely grown fond of you, and he already considered you a friend, as much as he considered Mary or Marlene friends, maybe more, since you were a lot closer, and if James Potter was something, it was fiercely protective of his friends.  

Remus swallowed, James was right, he’d put you in danger. And all because he was so nervous about being shirtless and the fact that you’d seen all his scars “I’m sorry,” he said and placed a hand over your arm “You feeling alright?” 

You looked at him for a second, gaze lingering on his hands before  nodding and going back to your meal as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. James couldn’t help the diverted smile that slowly appeared on his face. 

Remus noticed, of course he noticed, “Oh… she started talking…” He acknowledged, finally taking his hand from your arm. 

James just laughed, remembering the confidence that you’d used to call his friend strong and took another bite of his bacon  “at least she didn’t talk about Sirius.” 

Remus looked at him mortified, but you didn’t notice, you were too busy looking at Lily and Beth who had just walked in “They have such stunning hair,” you said casually as you saw the different shades of red the girls had, but straightened up after, and sighing with a little frown, gobbling your food again “How much longer?” You complained. 

“I mean you’re not wrong,” James agreed, looking at Lily with heart-eyes “Remus was like that for a couple of hours…” 

“Hours?!” 

“I can take her to the common room,” Peter offered “We’ll tell Flitwick she’s still feeling bad about the fall, like Sirius, and he absolutely loves her anyway, pretty sure it won’t affect her grades.” 

“But class!” You said looking up from your food. 

“Sirius can take care of her,” Remus added, “it was his idea to give her the draught anyway.” 

“Sirius? No way! The things I’d say to Sirius in this state!” You complained, already thinking of how his hair was so bouncy and soft when it brushed over your face. “He’d have material to tease me for the rest of my life, and my afterlife.” 

James snorted at your words, coughing it out and cleaning his face with a handkerchief he had on his robe’s pockets. Perhaps it would actually be good to take you to the common room with Sirius, maybe you’d finally be able to admit your feelings for each other, he thought. Little did he know you’d done it the previous day “It’s a good idea.”

You shook your head distressed, but he was already helping you stand up. Peter had already run to the other side of the table. 

“Can you deal with her?” Remus asked him, “I can take her if not.” 

You looked at Remus and remembered all the things you could’ve said and stood straighter “I can deal with myself,” you said and motioned for Peter to come beside you.

Minutes later, you were walking through the halls alongside Peter “What did you say before we arrived?” He asked you casually. 

You sighed “Something along the lines of Remus is fucking ripped under all those sweaters.”

He laughed at your answer, you didn’t even mention Remus’ scars, which made him smile, since he knew how self-conscious his friend was about them. 

“Do we have to go to the common room?” You asked him “Or maybe you can leave me there but not tell Sirius about it.” 

Peter shook his head as an answer “What bothers you so much about being left with Sirius? Thought you guys were friendlier after he saved you.” 

“I’ve got nothing against Sirius. On the contrary, I actually really like him. That’s the problem, who knows what I might say when he’s in front of my face.” 

Peter laughed again “I’m sure he won’t put it against you, after all, you already talked about Remus’ abs and Lily’s hair, It’s just the medicine.” 

“Peter, you know Sirius.” 

He sighed at that and then shrugged “We’ll obliviate him if he gets too annoying.”

You looked at Peter with shock and laughed when you saw the little smile playing on his face. He was joking, who knew he had such a dark humour hidden in all his soft boy persona? To be fair, Peter had always been extremely nice to you and everyone you knew, he also had many friends from all around the school, perhaps more than James and Sirius, since they really liked hanging out with one another. “You’re still planning a prank?” You asked. 

“We’ve got something on the back burner,” he told you “but we’re not gonna do it yet, since James got detention after the race.” 

You nodded at that, by then you were just outside of the common room, he whispered the password to the portrait and the two of you walked inside. You let yourself fall on the couch as he went to get Sirius.You buried your head under a pillow, maybe if you were asleep, you wouldn’t be able to run your mouth and say embarrassing things about Sirius’ soft lips or his strong jawline.

A couple of minutes later they both came walking down the stairs, Sirius was the first one to speak “Peter says no one told you to eat before drinking the draught.” He said as he approached you. You made a muffled sound from underneath the pillow in response.

“Well then, take care of her, yeah?” Peter said before waving goodbye to his friend, “See you later (Y/N)!”

“Bye Peter, thanks for bringing me here!” You said, voice still muffled by the pillow you refused to remove from your face. If you did not see Sirius maybe you wouldn’t remember how pretty he was. 

As Peter left, Sirius walked closer to you, raising an eyebrow when he spotted you still hiding under the pillow still “The light bothering you love?” He asked politely, “We could go up to my room, it’s darker when we close the blinds.” 

“Mm-mm,” you denied, refusing to even open your mouth in case you let something slip. 

Sirius, being oblivious to why you were being so hell bent in hiding your pretty face under a pillow, sat down on the floor to level his head to yours as much as possible, a soft groan left his lips as he hit the floor. You winced when you figured how close he was. He leaned his arm on the couch, next to where yours was and started to absentmindedly play with the hem of your sweater, “Are you upset about something? Did something bad happen?” He asked gently. 

You finally removed the pillow from your face with a frown and shook your head fervently. 

He raised his eyebrows at your reaction. You opened your mouth to speak and closed it again shortly after, frowning at your lack of conviction. That made him narrow his gaze, and a teasing smile drew from his face, “Oh you were saying stuff, weren’t you?”

Your eyes widened in surprise, he was quick to catch on. 

“Did you talk about my pretty eyes like Moony did?” You shook your head in response, “Oh, then… Did you talk about someone else instead? Should I be jealous about it?” You gave him a reproachful look and he laughed, such a melodious laugh, you thought, almost slapping yourself when you were about to open your big mouth and go running all your thoughts to Sirius. 

“So what? You won’t open your mouth in case you say something silly?” You nodded. He laughed again, had his laugh always been so pretty? “But I’ll get bored if you say nothing!” He pouted “How was your morning flight? Made you feel better?” You nodded with a smile, finally sitting back on the couch, grabbing his arm and pulling him up to sit beside you, he complied, and the two of you sat on the couch together, shoulders brushing against the other. Sirius let his head fall, and slid down a little “You’re really not gonna talk?” He asked, turning his head towards you. 

You took a deep breath “Whatever I say may be used against me, so no.” you replied. 

“What if I promise I won’t use it against you? Even if you start talking about something silly like how pretty you think Moony’s left hand is.” 

You laughed at that, Sirius wasn’t wrong there either, Moony’s hands were very strong and dextrous, you recalled a particular day, in potions, when he’d gotten bored as you carefully measured some of the ingredients on the only balance that the table had, and he’d started twirling his wand around with remarkable ease. 

“Oh no, you’re thinking about Moony’s hands now, aren’t you?”He asked when he saw your thoughtful expression. 

“I wasn’t!” You said, a little too fast.

Sirius shook his head, diverted and placed his left hand over yours, “Think of mine instead,” he said casually, as if he didn’t realise he was making your heart beat faster.

Now you smiled “Jealous, are we?” You asked as you started to play with his hand, brushing your fingers over the soft skin of his palm. Sirius’ hands felt much softer than you imagined Remus’ would. He had long, slender fingers, and he didn’t even have the callouses that you get for quidditch, he probably used expensive potions when he lived back at the Blacks. His rings were cold in comparison to his warm skin, it was nice, awfully nice.

“Of Moony?! He isn’t your type.” He responded confidently. 

“How would you even know my type?” 

Sirius smiled at the question as If he was just waiting for you to ask it, he leaned in, so close his beautiful hair brushed against your shoulders, and then he whispered “That’s easy love, it’s because I AM your type.” Then, he placed a soft kiss on the side of your cheek.

You pushed him back playfully and smiled when you saw his shit-eating grin “You keep believing that, all right Puppy?” You said as you pinched one of his cheeks, not that there was much to pinch, the boy had the facial structure of a woodland elf. 

“Hm…” he said as he pushed your hand off his face and intertwined his fingers on yours “That makes it two.” 

You laughed “You’ll keep count?”

“Obviously, gotta make sure my girl pays her debts.” 

My girl, you thought, you were indeed Sirius’ girl now. 

“We’ve got time now, perhaps we can reset the debt?” You asked with a suggestive smile, but Sirius simply shook his head.

“You’re high on painkillers.” 

You pouted, “I’d want to kiss you even if I wasn’t?” you said reproachfully.

Sirius, saw that as an opening, and leaned closer to you “Would you? Tell me about it.” 

“I wanted to kiss you when we didn’t see each other for years, and then when I was back and saw you, all grown up, I wanted to kiss you again, and then yesterday when we actually kissed, I wished we could’ve continued on forever.” Sirius smiled brightly, at least it wasn’t only he who felt that way. But when you saw his reaction you clasped your hand over your mouth “What the fuck did I just say?!” 

Sirius shrugged “The truth.” 

You shook your head “No-no! That was the potion,” you argued.  

Sirius shook his head with a smile “I don’t think so.” 

“Sirius!” 

“You’re madly in love with me, just accept it,” he said cockily.

You grabbed the pillow from earlier and groaned into it in frustration as you leaned over your lap. All you had to do was keep your big mouth shut, but you didn’t, and now Sirius would be able to tease you for the rest of your life. 

Sirius smiled and placed a hand over your shoulder, leaning in a little before he spoke “If it makes you feel better, I feel the exact same way.” 

You stood straight in an instant, disbelief all over your face as you searched for Sirius’ eyes, trying to find an ounce of doubt, of a joke, but… there wasn’t any “But the potion didn’t–“

“No, I had an apple before Moony threw it down my throat,” he said, and shrugged “I just wanted you to know, you’re not the only one who feels that way.” 

You smiled and leaned in towards him, hiding your blush over his shoulder, so many emotions piled up inside you didn’t even know what to do with them. All you knew was that you liked Sirius so much it bothered you. Why was he so damn adorable? How could he be so pretty and manly at the same time? Fucking Sirius Black, he had you, and he had you bad.  

As you leaned into Sirius, savouring his scent, which you could only describe as a mix of leather, firewood and musk, you suddenly started feeling very sleepy. A yawn escaped from your lips, and Sirius looked at you knowingly “Are we already at the point in which you fall asleep? But we were having such a pleasant conversation.” 

“Shut up Puppy!” you said softly.

Sirius smiled, leaning back so you could both get more comfortable “That’s three.” 

Mary, who had gotten out of charms earlier after Tom accidentally burned the sleeve of her robe, was the first person to enter the common room, finding you and Sirius cuddling into each other, both asleep. She smiled, and after casting a silencing charm around the two, so you wouldn’t be awoken, ran upstairs to grab Marlene’s Polaroid. Once she was back down she took a couple of pictures of the two, and a selfie, with her in the middle. After she stood back, snickering at the pictures as she went back upstairs to finally change her burned robes.  Priorities, she thought as she left the camera over Marlene’s bed and went to change. She then wrote a note, kindly asking the laundry elves to repair her robe for her, and placed it over her now neatly bent robe. 

She walked downstairs a little later, and after considering whether to wake you or not for a minute, she decided against it. After all, you both looked quite comfortable, and the nasty fall the two of you had the previous day wasn’t something you could just shrug off easily. Sometimes sleep really was the best medicine. 

A few hours later, when it was finally meal time, and you and Sirius had still not shown up in any class, Remus decided he’d go get you some food at the kitchens. The elves were as kind as ever with him, and once he had enough food for the three wrapped up, he walked up towards the common room. On the way there he bumped into Nina, who smiled at him brightly and waved before approaching him “You’re not going to the Great Hall?” She asked. 

Remus shook his head in response “I’m taking some food up for Sirius and (Y/N), they were feeling a little tattered after the fall.” 

Nina’s expression turned into one of concern “Is she all right?” 

Remus nodded, “She took some painkillers in the morning, she should be feeling a lot better by now. She may even make it to her next class,” he said, “Although, she may not actually want to, since we have Herbology…”

Nina laughed, after spending so much time with you on the rest of the study club, she was more than aware of your quarrel with Herbology, not because you didn’t like plants, but in your own words, because they didn’t like you. “Here, give her this for me, will you?” She asked, pulling a chocolate frog from her pocket and handing it over to Remus. “I told her about them a couple of weeks ago, and she said they seemed interesting, I was going to give it to her after the race.” 

Remus raised one of his eyebrows, he wasn’t sure when you and Nina had gotten so chummy with each other “Sure thing,” he replied and took the Chocolate Frog from her hand and placed it in his robe pocket. 

Nina waved goodbye to him but stopped him by grabbing his arm just before he managed to get too far. “I was forgetting, tell her we will have a book club reunion in the Ravenclaw tower by the end of the month. We’re talking about the romance novel I lent to her recently.” 

“Which romance novel?” Remus asked. 

Nina raised her eyebrows as she heard the question, and then seemed to think about it for a second before responding “It’s not apt for boy’s eyes,” she said with a little smile before waving goodbye to Remus rapidly “Anyway, thanks Remus, see you around.” 

Remus looked at Nina leave with a puzzled expression, he shrugged and continued on his way to meet you and Sirius. Once he was in front of the portrait, he whispered the password and she let him inside.  When he walked in he spotted both you and Sirius, still asleep, basically cuddling each other. He stared at the two for a minute, he found the scene endearing, but he couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy float over his heart. He wasn’t sure if he wanted what the two of you had, if he wanted one of you, or if he’d rather be part of it, but he decided to push those thoughts to the back of his head, after all, it was probably Moony the one that was causing all those weird mood swings. 

“Morning sleepy heads,” he said as he got close enough for the two of you to hear him. Sirius was the first one to wake up, lazily opening one of his eyes and smiling when he saw his friend. 

“Hey Moony, lovely to see your ugly face first thing,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. 

“Haha,” Remus said as he sat on the armchair on the left side. “Good thing I don’t measure my worth on your opinion Pads.”

“What are you talking about? Moony’s got a pretty face,” you mumbled still half asleep. 

Sirius’s eyes widened at your words and Remus laughed in return, “Maybe you just need to improve your taste,” Remus said as he leaned forward and placed the food on the table in front of you, “Brought you two some food.” 

That finally woke you up, your stomach already rumbling at the lack of sustenance. You stood up, feeling a lot better than earlier, head clearer, you no longer felt the urge to tell Sirius how pretty he was, which was fantastic. When you saw the food you smiled “Gosh, thank you Rem, you’re such a sweetheart!” 

“See? That’s how you should greet your friends,” Remus said motioning towards you “You should ask her to teach you some manners.” 

Sirius sighed, and then smiled “Thank you, oh beautiful lord Moony for bringing food over to us!”

Both you and Remus laughed at his silliness. You slid off the sofa and onto the rug and pulled out some of the food Remus had brought, he’d somehow gotten the elves to make him roast beef sandwiches. “Roast beef? That’s brilliant!” You said as you gave your first bite, moaning as the flavour sipped in through your tastebuds. 

Remus also slid from the armchair and grabbed for one of the sandwiches. Sirius was the last one to follow suit. Once he gave a bite, he leaned back, “Didn’t even realise how hungry I was,” he said. “Thanks Moony.” 

Remus hummed in response and then remembered the errand Nina had asked for him, so he pulled out the chocolate frog and handed it over to you. 

“What? No chocolate frog for me?” Sirius complained playfully. 

“No because you’re a twat,” Remus said calmly, Sirius looked at him taken aback. “Besides the chocolate frog’s not from me, it’s from Nina.”

“Who’s Nina?” Sirius asked as he took another bite from his sandwich.

“Member of (Y/N)’s fan club.”

“Nina isn’t a member of my fan club!” You said after you swallowed the bite you were chewing “I mean… I don’t have a fan club!” 

Sirius was the one to laugh now “Yeah sure, tell that to all the people wearing pins with your head on it and holding banners yesterday.” 

Remus nodded “At some point, I even considered the fact that you somehow became more popular than James.” 

You shook your head “You boys, it’s all in your head. I’m not popular, just the shiny new thing everyone’s talking about because I transferred recently.” 

Sirius took a bite from some dried jerky before pointing at you with it “It’s like you don’t want to admit you’re popular.”

“‘Cause I’m not.” 

“But you tick all the boxes,” Sirius retorted “Attentive, nice, talented at something most people are passionate about at school.�� 

“Not to mention you’re helping younger students at the study club. And you’re pretty,” Remus said casually. Sirius nodded, in agreement. 

“Well… I–“ you started. 

“Just accept it, darling,” Sirius said, placing an arm over your shoulder. “We’ll be the school’s celebrity couple once word gets out.” 

“Word?” Remus asked with a frown. 

“We’re dating.” Sirius stated “Right love?” 

“I mean… we snogged yesterday, I didn’t know you were so eager to make it official.” 

Remus laughed at that, Merlin, was it fun to see Sirius put in his place by you. “Congratulations?” 

“Well thank you Moony!” Sirius said with a smile. The three of you continued to hang out until you finished your meal. When you were done you decided you were not going to skip more classes and walked alongside the two boys to the Herbology greenhouses.  

On your way, you stopped to take a look at the forest, “The night I came with Lily, to harvest the stuff for potions, I swear I heard howls coming from the forbidden forest.” Sirius and Remus gave a look at each other as if only now realising what Moony was so hell-bent on achieving that night. You didn’t notice, since you were leaning on one of the nearby arches, your back facing them. You breathed in the fresh air “Sometimes I miss being able to walk through the forest, I wish it wasn’t forbidden.” 

Sirius walked in closer to you and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you back on the way, “It’s forbidden for a reason, monsters roam there.” He said. 

You laughed “As if you ever cared about dangerous.” 

“Pads is right,” Remus continued “The forest… It’s not something you should mess with.” 

“So you’re telling me, you’ve NEVER EVER gone into the forest?” You asked in disbelief. 

“We have,” Remus acknowledged, “That’s why we know it’s no place for you.” 

“Because I’m a girl?!” You asked, clenching your jaw as you did. 

“Because you’re a human.” Sirius punctuated. 

You frowned at that, you were so used to being looked down on by boys that you assumed Sirius and Remus were doing the same thing. But they were not, in fact, they had never even tried to. They both thought you were as capable as any man, heck, maybe even more capable than most men. They would never look down on you like some boys back in your old school, the same boys that hadn’t let you in the quidditch team for years because you were a girl, it had taken a teacher’s intervention for you to finally be allowed to join in. James, on the other hand, hadn’t even thought twice before asking you to the tryouts. Hogwarts was different. Your friends were different. 

You sighed “If only I was something else,” you said, a knowing smile growing on your face as you did. Neither of the boys quite understood what you meant, but that was fine. They did not need to know every single detail about you, at least not yet. Especially Sirius, he did not need more material to tease you.

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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[laurfilijames]

On Sundays

Pairing: Pete Dunham x reader

Words: +500

Warnings: Pure fluff.

Summary: Cuddles on the settee with Pete watching football leads to an unexpected nap and is undoubtedly the best way to spend a Sunday.

A/N: Rather than working on any of my other WIPs, I decided to go ahead and write something no one wants or asked for to try to get me out of this little rut. Once again, I'm indulging in sleep intimacy with my favourite man. (I also know it's not Sunday. Whatever.) No tags because it's just silly and I'm sorry I have nothing else ready that was promised.

---

You didn’t think you were even tired, but the longer you laid on the sofa with Pete watching the match, the more your eyes felt heavy and sleep threatened to set in.

The whole combination was bliss and the perfect recipe for lulling you into a dream; laying on top of Pete, your head resting comfortably on his chest, his hands languidly rubbing up and down your back beneath your jumper that kept lifting up with each pass, the sounds of his breaths and strong heartbeat pulling you in and keeping your focus even when he shouted out a complaint at the referee or one of the players.

You swore you would be productive today, knowing how quickly a Sunday turned into Monday and the rush of the week would make you regret not better preparing yourself, but when Pete requested you watch the match with him and have “a quick snuggle”, there was no way you could say no.

Your cup of tea was left half-drank on the coffee table beside Pete’s can of Foster’s, the warmth it provided nothing compared to his body heat, making you melt into him more and more with each second that ticked by.

Just a couple more minutes, you had thought to yourself, thinking of all the things that still needed your attention that suddenly weren’t anywhere near as important as cuddling up to your hooligan.

Each jolt of his body and low rumble of his voice through his torso only aided in you opting to spend the rest of your day lazily, and with one last glance at the telly to check how much time was left in the match, you smiled that it wasn’t even half-time yet.

You took a deep inhale as you allowed your eyes to close, breathing in his scent of woodsy body wash and the warmth of his bare skin, your fingers idly tracing the outlines of the West Ham crest on the right side of his chest.

It took a moment for your eyes to adjust when you opened them, the flat darker than when you had fallen asleep as the day was absorbed into night, the fluorescent glow from the t.v. harsh in the otherwise dark room.

Pete was asleep below you, his soft snores and slow, deep breaths indicating how soundly he was sleeping, and as much as you didn't want to have to move from this blissful resting spot on the settee, you knew bed was the best option at this point.

With his legs still securely wrapped around yours, you remained in place, settling your chin on his sternum to better look at his peaceful face, and carefully moved your hand up to trace over his alluring lips. Unable to help yourself, you reached forward to bring your mouth to his, kissing his sleepy lips only once before he began to stir.

A groggy moan sounded from him, but he managed to return your kiss, his hands readjusting on your back to hold you closer to him and smooth down over your bum and back up again, and as his kisses grew more eager, you knew you wouldn’t be leaving this spot anytime soon.

---

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Breakfast in Margate (Alfie Solomons x Reader)

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Modern AU

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3.2K

Warnings: A grumpy Papa Solomons (yes, that is a warning) and a whole lot of tooth-rotting domestic fluff

Summary:

Mornings aren’t always easy. For example, it’s terribly difficult to not be caught making breakfast for your fiancé, a workaholic who always takes the task upon himself.

However, what makes it harder today is the fact he loathes food made with recipes found online. Fortunately for you, though, Alfie isn’t the only one who’s good at playing games when he wants to push his own agenda.

Especially those that concern a sweet reward.

Author’s note: I've kept Alfie's adherence to his Jewish heritage quite loose. Nevertheless, I hope that the aspects I did incorporate in this work have been done so properly. If not, let me know and please don't hesitate to educate me (in a polite and respectful manner) because I love learning about different cultures and religions.

Tag List: @potter-solomons @zablife @wandawiccan60 @dreamlandcreations @liliac-dreamer @buttercupsandboys @vir-tual @rose-like-the-phoenix @hoodeddreams13 @mollybegger-blog @solomons-finest-rum @hecatemoon87 @babaohhhriley

TH Masterlist

Mornings like this are rare, these quiet moments unbroken by the usual ruckus in the kitchen. Now, it’s solely my bare feet on the wooden floor and the waves crashing onto the shore. No clanging of metal, no muttered curses in Yiddish or Russian, nor the scent of freshly brewed coffee. 

In the living room, Cyril lays in front of the hearth. The first rays of sunshine fall over him like a warm natural blanket, highlighting the ginger undertone in his fur. One of the many features he shares with his owner. 

As soon as I pass by, he lifts his head, tilts it in wonder, and lets out a low bark. After all, it’s Alfie who’s more often than not the first one to wander around the house at the crack of dawn. That is, if he’s slept at all. However, recently he’s started properly adhering to the Shabbat. Although, as much as he allows himself to because if Alfie Solomons is one thing, it’s mighty stubborn. Moreover, he’s an incurable workaholic. As hard as he works at The Old Rum House Bakery to let the business flourish and maintain his position as the fearsome Mad Baker of Camden, just as much effort does he put into our relationship. In fact, it’s not only towards Cyril and I his attention goes, but also to the house.

Our home.

Alfie has become a lot more domestic since we started dating, shortly after meeting one another on a train to London. Disregarding his tendency to walk around naked, he cooks and cleans, assuring me time and again I don’t have to help. When we go out for our weekly grocery trip, no matter how tired he is, he carries the bags to the car so that I don’t have to. Neither do I have to put away what we got, more often than not shipped off to the luxurious red sofa in the living room with a cup of coffee or tea to pair with whatever he’s baked at night. 

Nevertheless, regardless of the otherwise very loose relationship with his heritage, Ollie and I are glad he’s at least taking a day off in the week to rest up. The bakery has recently started taking its toll thanks to an influx in customers, which means extra stock as well as staff is needed. In turn, this means more part-timers to train and more admin work. In other words, everyone has to pick up the pace to meet the current demand. Such is the power of marketing, especially on social media. Alfie is loath to admit it, but Ollie and I can tell he’s secretly grateful we managed to convince him to let us handle the bakery’s socials.

We don’t get cinnamon buns on Monday anymore, though.

I stop in my tracks, turn to Cyril, and put a finger to my lips. “I know, love, but Papa is still sleeping. It’s finally Mama’s turn to make breakfast again.”

Seldom do I get the chance to experiment in the kitchen, let alone try a recipe I’ve found online. Or worse, via Youtube or Instagram. Now, that’s usually enough to make Alfie bristle. Nevertheless, mention the word ‘viral’ and a scowl will twist his lips.

Sometimes I wonder whether or not Alfie and Cyril are the same person because he lowers his head onto his paws and lets out a deep sigh that sounds like sarcastic resignation.

Thanks for the faith, buddy.

“It’s gonna be okay. No fire in the pan this time, I promise. How about we go stretch our legs after brekkie, hm? That sound good?”

Cyril huffs in agreement and closes his eyes, back to enjoying his luxurious pillow. 

We bought it for him when we went antique shop hopping in London last week. Although, perhaps it’s better to say I bought it after convincing my grumpy companion we should occasionally pamper our adopted four-legged child and I couldn’t fix his old pillow anymore. Of course I could, but I was more than done with constantly needing to fix the seams and re-stuff the thing.

Borough Market has become a regular stop on our weekly grocery trip, mostly because I used the splendidly efficient strategy of batting my lashes and pouting. Artisan goods and fresh produce can be luxuries, something to only occasionally splurge on. After all, why spend a fortune when there is a cheaper alternative that’s just as good? 

Nonetheless, Alfie developed a taste for supporting local businesses soon after our first visit. To some he has proposed contracts, offering them a position as a supplier to his bakery. Granted their goods are kosher, of course.

Yesterday, we got some wonderful fresh bright yellow bananas, eggs from a local farm, and oat flour from a mill a little ways away from London. Alfie thought little of it when I plonked them triumphantly in our grocery bag, having occupied himself with the fresh stock one of the florists was setting out. I glance at the colourful bouquet of wildflowers on the table and for a moment I’m back to him holding out to me, face full of the warm tenderness that stands in stark contrast to the stern and unpredictable persona he portrays when I’m not there. 

Right then and there, he wasn’t The Mad Baker of Camden, the fearsome King who rules the borough.

He was a sweet and caring gentleman.

Simply Alfie Solomons.

Nevertheless, in spite of these small moments of tenderness, he can still be awfully grumpy.

Especially if he hasn’t had his coffee.

“Mornin’, dove.” Two big warm hands glide over my hips towards my lower stomach. Those very same palms pull me flush against a naked chest grown soft with neglected muscle, slightly clammy with the remainder of last night’s late summer heat. Alfie presses his lips to the side of my neck and hums, tightening the embrace as he does so. The sonorous trill in his voice sends a shiver down my spine and rekindles a familiar heat. Nonetheless, the way he leans on me betrays he isn’t entirely awake yet. The slight slur in his words serve to confirm the lingering drowsiness, sounding like they’ve been pulled out of bed only moments before too. “That shirt looks good on you.”

“I’m glad you think so because you’re not getting it back any time soon.” I briefly stop mixing the batter to scratch his beard. He closes his eyes and leans into the touch as a content sigh escapes him. “You slept in.”

“Still woke up to an empty spot, though. If you want me to sleep more, yeah, which you know I find a terrible waste of time, I’ll need my wife to ‘old.”

I pat his hands to placate him. The thin gold band inlaid with a modest diamond around my ring finger matches his. I had thought Alfie would pick something elaborate for himself, but instead he chose a simple thick gold ring and got it engraved. It says: Ani l’dodi, v’dodi li; I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine. “Don’t get hasty. We aren’t married yet.”

“Let’s just go to the courthouse today.’’ He slips his hands beneath the fabric of the shirt I stole from him, letting them rest on my stomach after a brief caress. It’s a gesture he often makes nowadays. ‘‘Sign the paper, right, and be done with it so the desk eaters are ‘appy. We can always celebrate it later. Throw a party as big as the whole of bloody Camden, like a proper coronation ceremony to celebrate our union.”

“Tempting as it is, I’ll have to refuse. Besides, it's Shabbat today and you need to take a break. I promise I can wait a little while longer to officially become Mrs Solomons.”

“You ‘ave been from the start, Y/N. I don’t need a ring to call you my wife. ‘Sides, you well know ‘ow I am. Which reminds me, breakfast is my job, innit?” A wary tone creeps into his voice as he leans away to check what’s in the mixing bowl. “Is that edible?”

“It will be,” I say, continuing to mix the ingredients until they’re well combined.

“I’m not eatin’ that goo. Looks fucking awful, that stuff.”

“It’s healthy goo! Uses the bananas, eggs, and flour we got yesterday.”

Nose scrunched, Alfie peers at me. “Oh, so yesterday was all a little scam to get me to eat whatever this is?”

“You aren’t the only one who can lie. Although, it’s not really a lie, is it? More like a half-truth.’’ I shrug. ‘‘I simply never told you my plan. Would ruin the surprise.”

“Which is?”

“Baked oats that taste like cake. They just haven’t been baked yet.”

“Where’d you get the recipe?”

“YouTube…”

He groans, wide awake now that the conversation has taken a turn towards a point of absolute irritation. “Fucking ‘ell, dove, ‘ow many times ‘aven’t I told you not every recipe on social media-’’

“Don’t judge before you’ve tried it.” I put the spatula down, turn around in his embrace and steal a kiss off of his lips. “Said so yourself, didn’t you?”

“Don’t use my words against me.”

“Oh, I will. If only to keep things fair. Have a little faith in me. It’ll be fine.”

I hope.

A warning finger raised and pointed at me, he leans in until our faces are mere inches apart. “Fine. But I’m gonna make us coffee, right, so we’ll at least ‘ave something to get us fucking started.”

I can’t suppress a chuckle at the grumpy gesture. “Sure.”

The threat turns into tenderness when he cups my cheek. His palm has grown rough with the hours spent at the bakery, proof of his hard work. Tenderly, he presses his lips to mine. “Ikh hab dir lib.”

“I know.” To show I accept his usual indirect apology for his bad mood and avoid coming across as being cross with me, I run my fingers along his jaw. “I love you too.”

Resting his forehead against mine, he nudges my nose with his. “Mhm.”

“Why don’t you take Cyril for a brief walk, eh? The oats have to bake for twenty-five minutes anyway.”

“We can take ‘im on a walk later together. I’ll go set the table.”

“First put on a pair of knickers.”

“No.”

“You know the rules, Alfie. No buns on the chairs during summer.”

“I ain’t sweating.”

“Not yet.”

“Maybe you’re the one who isn’t.”

I cock an eyebrow, fighting the smug smirk threatening to break out. “That so?”

“Yeah,” he drawls, “first we’ll ‘ave coffee, right, ‘cause otherwise neither of us functions. Now, ‘ow about after we’ve started the day proper I’ll fuck you like last night, hm?”

Until I black out. 

The prospect of it mixes with memories of last night. Sea blue eyes, usually so steady and full of hidden temperaments, barely able to refrain from going cross-eyed. The fight with the stutter in his hips, gradually growing closer to the edge of pleasure but also exhaustion. Big hands reminiscent of wolf paws gripping the headboard for support while I was already lost in a satisfied delirium. The absent-minded glance to the bruises on my thighs adds to the steadily growing heat between my legs, perversely longing for more.

For him.

Nevertheless, the haze clears in an instant with a single sharp thought. I take a step back, crossing my arms as I search his expression for confirmation. However, as usually is the case, Alfie keeps his true motifs to himself. And this time, behind a mask he tends to put on when he wants something from me in particular. “So you can make breakfast. That’s what you’re getting at, aren’t you?”

“No,” he purrs, stealing a kiss as soon as he has bridged the distance between us, “not at all, dove. I just want my wife. I wanna make love to you.” We softly start to sway, slowly making our way out of the kitchen. “Let me make love to you.”

We come to a halt on the threshold. “Later. After you put on a pair of knickers and we’ve eaten.”

He blinks, the cheeky smile grown stiff. I can feel his muscles tense, unconsciously causing him to grip me a bit tighter than before. “But-’’

“Knickers, Alfie.”

“One round.”

“Alfred Solomons Jr, knickers. Right now.”

The use of his full name provokes a menacing snarl, the kind which is usually preserved for those who cross him. “Those oats better be fucking worth it, yeah, ‘cause otherwise you’re payin’ for lunch.”

I trace his cock, the skin hot and hardening beneath my fingertips with every sharp intake of breath. Perhaps this game won’t go on for as long as it usually does before he loses control. “Somehow I don’t think I will.”

He roughly grips my face, the thrill of every low-voiced word against my lips travelling throughout my body. “I ought to do somethin’ ‘bout that attitude of yours. Big fucks small, Y/N, always.”

Game over.

Except for the one card I have left to play.

“I know,” I wrap my hand around him, barely able to grip him properly, “but first some knickers. Please, Papa?”

“Clever bird, ain’t ya?” He growls into the kiss when I lightly squeeze him and let go. “Maybe I should carry out my own personal form of stigmata later. Add to those pretty bruises.”

Like snow in the spring sun, his attitude melts and changes. Alfie gently nudges my cheek and makes for the bedroom. A few moments later, he returns and starts setting the table while I pour the batter in the ramekins and plop them in the oven.

Despite the promise to make coffee, I reach for the cupboard to grab a mug. After all, old habits die hard.

Nevertheless, I find myself cut off by a hand that gently lowers mine, away from the handle.

“I said I’ll make us coffee,” Alfie grumbles. “Let Papa Solomons do ‘is job, yeah. Go sit in the livin’ room. I’ll be there shortly.”

I nod at the baking aftermath in the sink. “I got some washing up to do.”

“Nah, that can wait. Coffee and, ‘opefully, food first.” He places his hands on my shoulders and kindly coerces me out of the kitchen. “Go on.”

I let him guide me, feigning defiance by pouting. Yet, the act quickly falls apart with a lighthearted giggle. I suppose I still have a lot to learn from him concerning the art of masks. “Alright.”

Soon after he joins me on the porch, where I’ve settled down with Cyril to enjoy the salt air. The beach across the street is still empty, devoid of the plethora of towels. The breeze is silent, not yet filled with the chatter of tourists and locals alike.

These hours are ours.

This is our Margate.

“'Ere you go, love.” Alfie hands me a steaming mug of cappuccino with an extra shot of espresso, the milk soft and foamy, before he sits down next to me. I rest my head on his shoulder and close my eyes as I take a sip. “Nice, innit?”

“Mhm.”

Thus we sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the view and each other’s company. Cyril has started to doze off, although he tries in vain to keep his eyes open. One glance to the side tells of Alfie fighting the same battle. Occasionally he pulls a face or lifts his hand to stifle a yawn. It’s strangely funny to watch him continue to take a sip afterwards, a small gesture of hope. Surely he should be readily awake before his cup is empty.

Because sleeping isn’t an option.

He’s tired of the nightmares.

The faint sound of the oven going off disturbs the domestic bliss.

Alfie groans as struggles to get up, glad to have my arm to use as support while he pulls himself to his feet. I say nothing, knowing full well how his sciatica influences his mood.

And it’s already rotten enough in the morning.

As Alfie washes his hands, I get the baked oats out of the oven and place them on the plates. Meanwhile, Alfie warms up a few slices of babka and the challah bread we made together yesterday. “Just so we ‘ave somethin’.”

He sits down while I wash my hands. From the corner of my eye, I see him poke the oats with his fork. “It’s kosher?”

“It is,” I say, drying my hands before I sit down across from him. “Shall I go first?”

“Very funny.” He scoops a bit of the oats onto his fork and puts it in his mouth. His brows knit together, contemplating the taste.

“And? Do you like it?” 

Remaining silent and gaze fixed on the ramekin, he pokes his oats again. 

I swallow hard, my excitement crushed under the stones of dread. A nagging voice in the back of my head feeds into the fear of his judgement. Funny how one connects their self worth to food. Then again, it was that which started our relationship. A cup of coffee, a slice of babka, and a slice of plant-based carrot cake. Back then, though, my stomach didn’t quiver this badly nor did my ribs feel like they were caged in a very tight-strung corset. “You don’t.”

“Dove,” he begins, but doesn’t continue. 

Not until after he’s had another bite. “It’s good.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being serious or simply trying to appease me.”

“I’m serious.”

“You are?”

“I am,’’ he says, raising his voice ever so slightly in spite of the effort to keep it even. Alfie finally meets my gaze and I can tell he’s being sincere regardless of the way he accusingly waves his fork at me. ‘‘But I still don’t like 'ow you got this off of the internet. ‘Ow many times ‘aven’t I told you, hm? You should know better by now.”

I chuckle as I at last taste the baked oats myself. They’re chocolatey with a subtle banana undertone, which is warmed by the cinnamon. “I gotta find new recipes somehow.”

“There are cookbooks.”

“Too limited and they take up too much space.” While nibbling on a piece of challah bread, I take a sip of coffee. “Can I make this more often?”

“It does taste like cake,” he reluctantly admits, spooning up another bite. “Yes, you can.”

“Why do you make it sound like there’s a condition?”

“You can make these oats, yeah, if I get to serve you something sweet in return.”

Something not to be had in the kitchen.

‘‘Deal,’’ I lean in, biting my lip as I play my final card, ‘‘Papa.’’

Alfie clenches his fork upon hearing his favourite nickname, the title he is secretly proud of. A dark haze clouds his eyes, the gloss in them highlighted by the morning sun. The smirk on his lips has evened out, his jaw tightened with the effort to practise self-restraint. 

Game over.

I won.

And the prize is something sweet with lots of cream.

[burntsaltsblog]

tw: nsfw, mdni

Chapter Seven

Two weeks later

Sex, food, and sleep. That was all Butcher and I participated in. Rarely did we leave the bed, except for a daily shower, which Butcher insisted we take together. Though I was never one to complain, especially when he held me firm against the shower wall with my legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked me hard and fast.

"Good girl. Such a good girl for me," he'd praise as I lost control in his arms, gushing all over his length the second he told me to. In the past, I had been vehemently against taking directions from anyone. But, as soon as Butcher looked at me with his deep, hazel eyes, asking me if I wanted "Daddy to take care of me," I was putty in his hands, yearning to obey his every command.

Every night, we'd hear from MM, Hughie, Frenchie, and Kimiko, stating that they were ok and out of harms way. MM and Hughie had crossed the border into Ontario unscathed, except for Hughie's tragic fall, which I still found hilarious, and Frenchie and Kimiko had driven to New Jersey. Apparently, Kimiko had discovered the reality show, The Real Housewives of New Jersey and had begged Frenchie to take her to the state where it all takes place.

Butcher and I assured the rest of the group that we were safe as well, living as Ed's only guests in his small inn. And since we were his only tenants, Ed had taken the opportunity to show off his baking skills, making us anything from chocolate scones to apple tarts. According to Ed, he had learned it all from his late wife, Edna, and found comfort in recreating her original recipes.

Butcher wasn't one to coo over sweet stories from Ed's fifty-year marriage, but the baked treats kept him satisfied and uncharacteristically docile compared to his usual irritated personality.

"How much longer do we have to lay low?" I inquired on a Monday night during our third week at the inn. "I'm getting restless; I want to go see the town and walk around."

"Oi, Have I not been keepin’ ya’ busy?" Butcher asked, mildly insulted as he tore his eyes from the small TV in Ed's quaint living room on the first floor. We were watching reruns of old noir films, cuddled up on a pink settee.

My cheeks heated as I nestled further into his side, leaning my head on his shoulder. "No, you've done an excellent job at that...but I'm feeling a bit like a vampire. I miss the sun," I whined.

"Dontcha worry, Ella, you'll see the sun again." Butcher rubbed his hand up and down my arm, keeping me warm as a New Hampshire blizzard blew outside.

"Ella? Who in the hell is Ella? Fuck, I knew you had a side piece.”

"I'm talkin’ about the bird from that vampire show you and Kimiko watch all the bloody time," he replied.

I rolled my eyes as I breathed out a laugh. "You mean Elena? And the show is called The Vampire Diaries, for your information."

"Eh, Ella sounds better," Butcher shrugged.

I turned to him, a bemused look on my face. "Oh, really? Do you wish my name was Ella? No wonder you rarely call me by my name. You don't even like it."

"Come now, love. I see what you're doin’, tryin’ to get me all riled up. Well, it ain't gonna work unless ya’ want a very long trip over my knee."

I couldn't stop the way my legs rubbed together, seeking friction after hearing Butcher's threat. He'd already had me twice that day. But what can I say? I suppose Butcher was right, and I was insatiable.

"Sorry, Daddy," I said, pawing at his chest as I stared at him doe-eyed.

"That's it," he grumbled, standing from the small sofa and dragging me with him. "You asked for it, doll. Good luck sittin’ tomorrow."

I giggled in anticipation as we began to exit the living room, but Ed appeared in the doorway, halting us in our tracks.

"Oh, I was worried you folks had retired for the night. I just finished this fresh batch of brownies, and I simply could not wait for you to try them," Ed beamed, holding a tray chock full of chocolate squares with steam rising from them to prove they had just left the oven.

"Uh, sure. Of course. Sounds lovely, Ed. You're so generous, always offering us your wonderful sweets," I said kindly as Butcher and I retraced our steps back to the settee. Butcher discretely slipped a pillow into his lap to hide the tent forming in his pants.

"One for you, Mr. Butcher, and one for you, Mrs. Butcher," Ed said, extending the tray in front of us so we could each select a brownie. I still wasn't used to being called Mrs. Butcher, and I made sure to turn my head so Butcher wouldn't see how flustered I got.

"I'll tell ya’, Ed. If you keep feedin’ us like this, the misses and I will have to wrap up the honeymoon. I'm afraid she'll divorce me if I go up another size in me trousers." Butcher joked before stuffing half of the chocolate treat into his mouth.

Ed tittered," Speaking of the honeymoon, you all never told me about the wedding. Or how you met, for that matter. I'm sure it's a beautiful story."

I looked at Butcher to take the lead. We hadn't planned out a story ahead of time, so I was waiting to see what improvisation he had up his sleeve.

"Well, gov, where should we start?" Butcher asked, having already finished his dessert when I hadn't even taken a bite of mine yet.

Ed thought for a moment before his face brightened. "The engagement! Oh, tell me about the engagement. How did you propose, Mr. Butcher?"

I stayed watching Butcher as he brushed excess brownie crumbs from his lap and began to speak.

"Well, my girl here loves to see those Broadway shows. So, on the night of our second anniversary, we drove into the city to see her favorite one. What was the name of the play again, love?"

Realizing it was my turn to take the reigns, I sat up straighter, looking at Ed. "Phantom of the Opera. I always thought the show was so romantic, and Billy here definitely took advantage of that."

"That's for sure," Butcher chuckled, placing a hand on my thigh and rubbing it affectionately. "After the show, I took her to The Plaza for drinks. Then, I led her to one of their balconies, where I had hundreds of red roses set up. It was there on that balcony, under the moonlight, that I got down on me knee and asked her to be my wife."

"I didn't even give him a chance to finish the question before I was screaming, 'Yes! Yes!' over and over again," I laughed. "There was no need to think it through. I knew he was the one the moment I met him."

"Isn't that just precious," Ed declared, looking between the both of us with a wide smile. "I know two soulmates when I see them, and there's no doubt that you both were fated to be together."

"I certainly think so," I mumbled as Butcher and my eyes met. We gazed at each other as thick tension bloomed between us. If it weren't for Ed's constant feedback, I would've forgotten he was in the room with us.

A faint ding from the kitchen broke the bubble around Butcher and me, and he casually cleared his throat as I focused on eating my dessert.

"Oh, that's the oven timer!" Ed exclaimed, jumping up from his lazy-boy recliner. "That means my second batch of brownies is done."

"As it so happens," Butcher stood, stretching his arms. "Me and the misses outta turn in for the night."

"Of course, of course. You folks have a lovely evening, and like always, don't hesitate to come find me if you need anything at all."

Butcher and I nodded our thanks and watched Ed scurry from the room on a mission to rescue his brownies from burning in the oven.

"He's adorable," I commented as Butcher followed me up the short flight of stairs to the second floor. "I'm going to feel bad when we leave. He's going to be all alone."

"Dontcha worry, doll. He'll have other guests," Butcher assured me, holding our bedroom door open as I waltzed past him over the threshold.

I hummed faintly, thinking of poor, soon-to-be lonely Ed as I stripped off my clothes and readied myself for bed. A quiet settled over the both of us as I rummaged through Butcher's drawer in the dresser, looking for a shirt of his to steal.

When I turned towards the bed, donned in a dark blue Hawaiian shirt decorated with tall palm trees, I caught the man himself, standing on the other side of the bed, lost in thought.

"Everything alright?" I asked, pulling the covers on the bed back in order to dive under them.

"Yeah, darlin’. S’all good," he mumbled as he unbuttoned his shirt, letting it drape over the back of the desk chair.

"You sure?" I pressed as gently as I could. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I mean, if this relationship is going to work, we need to be able to communicate comfortably with each other. So, if there's something on your mind," I painted on a small smile of encouragement. "I'm all ears."

Butcher regarded me for a moment before turning around, and I surveyed the tension cascading down his back.

Concerned, I abandoned the bedding and circled the bed, coming to stand in front of Butcher.

"Don't hide from me," I whispered, "Please, Billy."

Butcher wrapped his arms around my back to pull me close, and I leaned into his chest and pressed a kiss over his heart, wanting to stop it from beating so erratically. He sighed at the affection and rested his cheek against the top of my head.

He didn't speak, so I took his lead and remained silent as well. If this was the comfort Butcher needed at the moment, then damnit I wasn't moving from this spot until my legs gave out.

Eventually, my eyes drifted close as I relaxed in Butcher's hold. I had come very close to falling asleep standing up when he finally spoke. I didn't know how long we had been standing there in each other's arms, but I disregarded that thought as I focused on Butcher's words, which were barely loud enough for me to hear.

"I stopped wearing me ring around my neck.”

He didn't continue after that, and I wondered if he was waiting for me to acknowledge his statement.

"Oh," I mumbled, my mouth muffled by his chest.

I didn't want to hinder the rest of his confession if there was anything left of it, that is, so I all but held my breath. It was like walking on eggshells, but even the toughest of men sometimes needed to be handled delicately.

"I took it off the night we got here after ya’ fell asleep. Didn’t think it was right to ask ya’ to be my girl when I was wearin’ it."

"Oh," I said again, feeling terribly lost for words.

"I don't-" Butcher hesitated. "I don't even know why I was wearin’ it. For safekeepin’, I suppose. But what was I keepin’ it safe for?"

"Do you ever wonder?" I asked cautiously, pulling back from Butcher's hold to look up at him. "If she'll come back? The police never found a body. Maybe, subconsciously or something, you were holding onto it in case she ever returned."

"She ain’t comin’ back, petal," Butcher whispered, stroking my cheek. "But it's ok. I've moved on. That's why I got rid of the bloody scrap of metal. How can I focus on the future if I'm still holdin’ onto the past?"

I nodded, contemplating what Butcher said as I bit the inside of my cheek. I wanted to ask if, in the extraordinary event that Becca came back from the presumed dead, Butcher would put his ring back on. They were married for eight years, almost a decade, for goodness sake. Why would he throw all that away for someone like me, who he's been in a relationship with for two goddamn weeks?

But I didn't want to beat a dead horse, and I had a feeling that that's I would be doing should I voice my concern. Butcher cared for me too much to admit that he'd leave me for his reincarnated wife.

"But speakin’ of movin’ on," Butcher stated, pulling me from my rambling thoughts. "I want ya’ to be the one I move on with."

"What do you mean?" I cocked my head. Isn't that what was already happening since he'd asked me to be in an established relationship?

"Well, I guess all that talk down there with Ed tonight got me thinkin’ about things. About us. About our future."

"Our future?"

"Yeah."

"What would a future for us look like?" I ran a hand down his bare chest.

"Well, after we kill every evil supe cunt that's ever walked this bleedin’ earth, I thought we could get married."

Butcher peered at me intently to gauge my reaction as he broke the barrier on the subject of marriage.

I rolled my lips together as my eyes nervously found his. "You're not like proposing now, are you? Because I've got to say, you really set the bar high with that bullshit proposal story you told Ed down there."

Butcher chuckled, "No, darlin’, m’not proposin’. What kind of a wanker proposes without a ring? All I'm sayin’ is that after all this shite is over, I want us to be together. Long haul and all that."

The side of my mouth curved up as I listened to Butcher describe his dreams.

"We could buy a nice fuck off house in the country somewhere, you know? So we can finally get some peace, and you can go outside and see the sun whenever ya’ like,” Butcher continued.

"And, if you're up for it, we could start a family."

I had to work hard at swallowing the lump in my throat as Butcher's hand came to rest on my lower stomach, both of us imagining what a little bump would look like there—proof of our devotion to each other.

"Billy," I croaked as my eyes burned with unshed tears.

"Ya’ don't gotta say anythin’ right now, love. I don't wantcha to feel pressured into-"

"No," I interrupted. "No, I want that, Billy. I want all of it. Everything you said. I want to marry you and build a home with you."

I placed my hand over Butcher's, which was still on my belly. "I want to have a baby with you."

I lost control of my tears, and they fell freely over my cheeks. I saw Butcher's eyes fill with his own emotion, and he swiped my tears away before bringing me in for a kiss.

"I love you," he whispered against my lips, and I inhaled sharply, pressing my mouth harder against his.

The kiss was heated, filled with emotions and confessions that we were finally letting free.

I drew back as I traced my fingers over every beautiful line on Butcher's face. "I love you too. So much."

"Fuck, I don't deserve ya’," Butcher shook his head, now swallowing a lump that was in his own throat. Unable to say anything, he brought his mouth back down to mine, wanting to express his feelings physically if he couldn't do it audibly.

"Want you," I plead as Butcher's mouth traveled down my neck, sucking and nipping to mark me as his. "Need you."

"I'm gonna ruin you," Butcher promised, voice like gravel. "I'm gonna fuckin’ ruin ya’ for every other fucking man."

I had no problem with that, and I jumped, wrapping my legs around his middle, groaning when both his hands groped my ass, kneading the soft flesh.

Butcher threw me down on the bed before unzipping his dark jeans. I followed his lead and unbuttoned my shirt, tossing the clump of fabric to the end of the bed, totally forgotten.

"Take them off," Butcher instructed, pointing a finger toward my white lace panties.

"Yes, Daddy," I obeyed, pushing my hips up to easily slide the underwear over my thighs and down my legs, never breaking eye contact with Butcher the entire time.

"Look attcha, followin’ Daddy's orders," Butcher uttered possesively, leaning over my frame, causing me to lay down on the bed so he could tower over me. "But s’not because you're a good girl, is it? No, it's because you're a needy little whore who's so desperate for Daddy's cock that you'd do absolutely anythin’. That's the truth, ain’t it, doll?"

I gripped the sheets as I felt my core clench around nothing, desperate to be filled to the brim.

"I think I asked ya’ a question, sweetheart," Butcher said, running his hand down my neck before wrapping his long fingers around my throat, physically stating his dominance over me.

"Yes, Daddy, it's the truth," I mewled, beginning to pant as if I were a bitch in heat, preening to be fucked.

"And what truth is that?" Butcher pressed, applying pressure to my neck, cutting off the blood flow to my brain. My head grew fuzzy, and a dopy smile covered my face as I gave Butcher the answer he was waiting for.

"I'm a needy little whore who's desperate for your cock, Daddy."

"Fuckin’ look at ya’.” Butcher observed my body. "I bet you'd let me do anythin’ to you, huh? Just Daddy's little toy who he can fuck however he wants."

I wrapped my legs around Butcher's waist and ground up into the hard-on he was sporting through his boxers.

"Did I say you could do that, princess?" Butcher reached around to smack the side of my thigh. The lasting sting caused me to moan, pressing harder against his covered shaft and relishing in the friction against my throbbing clit.

"Can't wait," I whined, blinking up at him helplessly. I was beyond the point of being embarrassed at how pathetic I looked.

"God, you really are a slut. I can feel ya’ makin’ a mess all over me fuckin’ boxers. Eh, drop your legs," Butcher slapped my leg again and I reluctantly let them fall against the mattress, but that didn't stop my hips from lifting off of the bed to find something to hump like a desperate pup.

Butcher slipped his boxers off and threw them somewhere behind him, not caring where they ended up, and wrapped a hand around his length, veins bulging and weighty balls hanging below.

"Show me your pretty cunt, sweetheart," Butcher said, and he barely got his request out before I spread my legs for me, pushing my sopping pussy up toward his face.

Butcher dragged his red tip that was already leaking pre-cum through my folds, and a broken sob left my mouth. "Please don't tease me."

Butcher repeated the same action until real tears began dripping down my face. "I'm serious, Butcher. Please, I can't fucking take it."

Butcher glared at me before grabbing my hips harshly and slamming his cock into my cunt. I gasped at the sudden intrusion and braced my hands on his shoulders to steady myself.

"That's not my fuckin’ name, doll," Butcher whispered darkly in my ear as he began to fuck me harshly.

"I'm sorry, Daddy, I'm sorry," I all but yelled as I hung on tight as Butcher rammed into me unrelentingly.

I reached down to circle my clit, and as a result, squeezed Butcher's length, letting him know that I was going to finish sooner than expected.

"Fuck, you're already close? My girl is more pathetic than I thought," Butcher chuckled.

I could barely process the shame from getting off on being so degraded due to Butcher slapping my hand away so he could work my clit himself.

"Are you gonna come, sweet girl? Cuz I'm gonna come too. And ya’ know what?" Butcher leaned his head down to whisper in my ear again. "I'm not gonna pull out."

My head slammed back against the pillow as my eyes screwed shut.

"I'm gonna come so fuckin’ deep in this cunt that you'll never question who ya’ belong to. You are mine. My girl. My wife. The mother of my children-"

Butcher's hips stuttered, and I felt hot ropes of his cum coat my walls.

My mouth opened wide in a silent scream as I pulsed around his cock, my slick streaming onto the bed sheets as I came, almost violently.

My body was covered in pins and needles as Butcher took deep breaths while coaching me on how to do the same.

"Breath for my, sweetheart," Butcher encouraged, rubbing a hand over my stomach.

"That's it," he said in approval when I took a full breath, filling my lungs with much-needed oxygen. "Good girl. Doin’ such a good job for me."

Butcher waited a couple of minutes before pulling his softening length out. Then, he climbed off the bed and pulled his boxers back on.

"Stay right there, doll. I'll be back in a jiffy." Butcher kissed me on the forehead, and I mumbled unintentionally in response.

He walked into the bathroom, and I heard the sink begin to run.

I didn't have to wait long before Butcher returned with a damp washcloth in hand. He knelt at the foot of the bed and pulled my legs apart, all sexual intentions gone, only the idea of aftercare on his mind.

The warm cloth against my skin was healing, and I felt a fatigue take over my body.

"I'm sleepy," I mumbled.

"Good. That means I wore ya’ out," Butcher teased, standing to take the used washcloth back into the bathroom.

I sat up and retrieved Butcher's shirt, slipping it back over my tired body, yawning as I did so.

When Butcher appeared again, he ducked under the sheets. I didn't hesitate to nestle up to his side, and I made a soft sound of contentment when he pulled me onto his chest.

My ear rested over his heart, and I smiled when I felt it beat slow and steady, unlike how it raced earlier. I was happy to know Butcher was at ease and void of his previous anxiety. And if I had something to do with that, well, I guess that would explain the butterflies tumbling in my stomach.

Butcher ran a hand through my hair, twirling the strands and lightly scratching my scalp as he attempted to lull me into a soothing slumber.

I was almost asleep when a bang rang out downstairs, and as a complete parallel to our first morning here, Butcher and I shot up in bed, gazing at each other, alarmed.

₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊

tag list: @weallhaveadestiny @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere @mandossillyriduur @bluemerakis @karlurbanism

comment to be added to the tag list!🖤

abandoned masterlist

[212-apricity]

mastermind, part ten

(guys i just realised i’ve had this thing marinating in my drafts for like a day i swear i posted it omg i’m so sorry anyways💀💀💀)

i go back to school on monday im literally gonna cry i cant do this any more like💀💀

anyways i just kind of wanted to say that bc its literally depressing me now but heres part ten of mastermind😍🙌🙌

i hope you guys enjoy it and i kinda hate the ending but i have too man things ti revise for in school so…

anyways love you guys😘😘😘

warnings: kinda gruesome in the beginning (like a tiny bit) and hurt/comfort but i think thats it!!

masterlist

theodore nott masterlist

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His hands are frantic inside the sheets, trying to find your body. The damp hair falling into his eyes makes it difficult to see and his labored breathing isn’t helping either.

He sits up after feeling the cold side of the bed and shoves his hair back. His nightmares have only gotten worse the closer to Voldemort you get, memories from his father, leaving you, from the manor and fears of losing you plagued his mind every day. You were normally the only one to drag him from this kind of torture, keeping him close to your chest and speaking soothing phrases into his hair as your fingertips traced their own tattoos on his skin. But ever since he left that night he hasn’t felt that warmth and any progress you two had made in helping him get better was quickly washed away. Sometimes he’d be so distracted from the horrors he’d still think you were there; however even when his eyes adjust to the moonlit room you’re still nowhere to be seen, the spot on the bed empty and cold.

He throws off the blankets and grabs his wand on the desk next to the bed, frantic. He shakes the thoughts from his head. This was exactly like his nightmare, he’d awoken to discover you missing from his bed, only to find your bloody body laying on another bed.

He doesn’t even bother calling for help, his focus is on finding you, and quick.

The tent is eerily quiet tonight…or was it early morning? He couldn’t tell. He has a death grip on his wand, clenching so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He goes down the stairs, the cool air of the house causing the hair on his neck to stand and his fear grow. He tries to calm down, assume with a clean mind how and where to find you, but the nightmare was too vibrant, everytime he’d closed his eyes to try to take a chilled breath all he noticed turned into your lifeless eyes.

He can hear the crackling of the fire in the living room when he reaches the lowest of the steps, the warm light drawing him closer.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding while he sees you curled up on the massive sofa under a warm blanket with a book in your hands. You look up on the sound, alarmed, but your eyes quickly soften once they see Theo.

He watches your eyes go from adoring to confused when you notice the wand in his hand, pointing straight at you. 

Something’s wrong. You can immediately tell by his stance, rigid and stiff, not like he always is when hes just woken up, all soft and cuddly. His hair is a mess and from where you’re sitting across the room you can see his chest heaving.

“Theo?” your stomach drops. What’s going on? Was someone hurt? You quickly throw the blanket off, ready to rush over to him when his shoulders drop with relief. He tosses the wand to the armchair next to him as he stalks forward quickly.

You walk toward him as he comes in contact with you, holding you tightly, engulfing you into him as he kisses the top of your head and buries his head in your neck. You can feel his heart racing a million miles an hour as he breathes in deep, trying to calm down before his breathing got worse.

You tuck him into yourself, dropping the book you were reading to the floor beside you as your hand immediately finds his back, beginning your path, soothing circles into the firm muscle, the other carding through his wet and tangled hair. He pulls away for a second, eyes erratically scanning over you like they’re checking for wounds. And maybe they are, maybe he just needs to know that you are unharmed and in one piece, unlike whatever he had witnessed in his sleep.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You murmur when his heart rate has slowed down. His grip on you is still tight, clinging to you. If there was something wrong with Harry, Hermione or Ron or an attack on your tent he would’ve said already. You hadn’t completely forgiven Theo for that night but your heart still pangs with guilt for not being there for him when he tore himself from the nightmare, that while he was in pain, you were sitting here reading comfortably.

He shakes his head. Maybe not now, but tomorrow, when it’s not as fresh he’ll let you know what transpired in his terror, what shook him to his very core.

“It burns,” he says, pointing to his mark. You move your hands from their place on his back and trace the skin around the mark, providing relief that courses through his body.

For now though, on the comfortable sofa in the sitting room, he nestled closer to you, letting your hands soothe him back into a peaceful slumber.

For the first time in months, Theodore Nott had finally found comfort being back in your arms.

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The next day, Hermione and Ron had made milkshakes, chocolate and strawberry. They had also made a massive mess in the kitchen with their incessant arguments.

These were the only times you’d get to enjoy some times with your friends, you’d discover.

You sat on the kitchen counter next to Theo as he made burgers and fries for the two of you, the other three had left after finishing their milkshakes to talk to Mr. Lovegood.

“No add extra cheese on mine, it’ll taste good.” You added from your place up high, sipping the shake as Theo nods and says,

“Yes ma’am,”

Before walking over to the fridge to get extra cheese slices out to put in your burger.

“Do you think things would’ve been different if we hadn’t had this whole war?” You speak up, inturrepting the music in the background.

“In what sense?” Theo asks, plating the food.

“Like…do you think we would’ve still like…” you stall trying to find the polite words as Theo raises his eyebrows, looking confused.

“Hooked up, there I said it.” You say rolling your eyes at his laughter over your choice of words.

“Oh my gosh baby,” He says between laughs as you eventually join in, “Yes! Of course we would’ve. What, do you think it took a war for me to come back to you? I would’ve come anyway, there’s no way I’m letting you go like that. Wouldn’t have left anyways. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you but you’re it for me Y/n. You’re it.”

His watercolour eyes stare deeply into yours as he comes closer, the food and laughter long forgotten as you engulf him in a hug as he apologies again for leaving. His apologies are unending, as are your kisses on his neck in final acceptance.

After what feels like hours, you two finally break away from the hold as Theo brings the plates to the living room where you’ve already set up a movie and picked a place on the sofa.

You both lay next on opposite sides of the sofa, watching the movie as you eat, legs tangled together in comfort as you warm up your body with his.

“Can I have a taste of your burger?” You ask after a few minutes.

He nods and leans over and helps you take a bite of his food, he watches as your eyes light up and you smile at him sheepishly. He rolls his eyes with a grin before trading your plate with his.

“Thanks Teddy, yours tastes a million times better!” You give him a kiss on the cheek as he trades the plates and return to your movie, completely missing the adoration in Theo’s eyes at the nickname.

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It’s a few hours after and you are now comfortably napping in Theo’s arms as the movie plays in the background.

Harry, Hermione and Ron had returned ages ago but thought it’d be best to give you two some time alone.

As always, your comfort is cut short when you hear Hermione’s shrill scream, awaking you with a jolt, doing the same to Theo as he instinctively tightens his grip around you.

“What’s going on?” He asks as Ron runs in, the two of you quickly standing and grabbing your wands, “They’re back. The Snatchers are back, run!” Ron shouts as the three of you run out to help Hermione.

But she’s long gone. As is Harry.

“Ron! Theo!” You shout in panic, turning to your left to find Ron gone as well, only deepening your fear.

You shoot spells at the Snatchers until you hear, “Crucio!” from your right.

Everything’s moving too quickly and you barley have any time to react before something, or rather someone pushes you to the ground.

As you get up off the autumn leaves, wand ready to shoot at anyone in sight you see all the Snatchers disapparating. You shift your eyes down to the ground to see who had saved you from the unforgivable curse.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips as you quickly stumble to his place on the grounds, shaking and thrashing around in pain, trying to console it best he could as he claws his mark in agony and soft, painful whimpers escape his pink lips.

“No no no no no, Theo what have you done?” You whisper, straddling him and holding his face in your hands to try lessen the pain as tears escape your eyes.

“Shh, it's okay, it's okay Theo, they’re gone now, you’ll be fine.” You try comfort him, bringing his head into your chest, remembering that providing comfort is the only way to ease the cruciatus curse.

His breathing calms down after a while as you try and shield him from the cold air fluttering around you as you both cry into each others arms. Theo pulls away, staring into your eyes with his ever-captivating ones and says determinedly, “I’m not losing you. Not like this, not now, not ever. Never again, you hear me? I’ve already lost you once and I’ll be damned if I ever let you get hurt or lose you again. God baby, I just got you back I can’t let go of you now.”

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part ten done! lmk what you think and maybe repost if you want to it really helps🤡🫶🏽🫶🏽

taglist: @timmytime17 @cherry-hoe @jetblackpayne @ash-tarte @coolestgirlhere @ama1a2 @kezibear @randomgurl2326

[spicyclover]

Just get out!

Summary: You are ninth months pregnant, and it’s only a matter of days before you give birth to your first child with Max. Let’s just say you are done being pregnant.

Friends references :)

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

PS: Max and Kelly aren’t a couple because it won’t make sense otherwise ;)

PSS: Sorry for the short parts; I had to go to the hospital today :( Everything is fine, though. No worries!

You left for your fifth ride of the day. This baby’s due date has been out for three days, and he still hasn’t shown the tip of his nose. Obviously, you are very frustrated and pregnant, and you are hot, extremely hot. At the same time, it takes forty degrees these days in Monaco. 

The doctor told you to take some walks to help start the contractions, but nothing worked. That damn baby won’t come out. He wants to stay in his cocoon.

You eat spicy food, pickles. You dance, you walk, and you make a jumping ball. You tried everything to get him out.

So, when you come back sweating after this walk under the oppressive heat of the Monegasque sun, you only want to lay down on your couch, air-conditioned, with a good cold drink. Except for that unpleasant surprise, a bunch of pilots and their girlfriends are seated on the sofa.

You come to them, and you make yourself heard.

“That’s right, still no baby! Come on, people! Please make some room!” You tell them by making big gestures so that they squeeze. 

“Uh, sweetie, maybe you’d be more comfortable here?” Says Max when he gets up from his chair to give you the room.

You sight loudly. 

“You. Like you haven’t done enough.”

“Look, I-I know how miserable you are. I wish there was something I could do. I mean, I wish I were a seashore.”

You look at him, confused and frustrated at the same time. You didn’t really know how to react yet. 

“Because with seahorses, it’s the male who carries the babies. And then also, I’d be far away in the sea.” He ends up shaving when you don’t want to hear that. Smiles are formed on the faces of Daniel, Lando and Charles, but they disappear immediately when they see the black look you give them.

You look at the others sitting on the couch.  They crash into the back of the sofa, and you swoon into the place they made. You sigh.

“I have never been so uncomfortable in my entire life!”

“Oh, I know. I’ve been there. I remember toward the end...” 

“Oh, Kelly, that’s a great story. Can you say it to me when you’re getting me some iced tea?” You interrupt her by pointing at the kitchen. She took a few seconds before reacting, but she got up to get it for you.

You dance several times to find the best possible position, but nothing to do. Everything is uncomfortable.

“Oh God, get out! Get out! Get out! Ge out! Get out!” You scream at your huge belly. 

“Let’s.” Daniel pointed towards the door, and all the guests got up simultaneously to leave. 

You look at them surprised but don’t add anything because you feel a trickle of water running down your legs.

[enhahooninurwindow]

The Twists and Turns Love Holds

Pairing: Sunghoon x gn!reader 🍓MASTERLIST

Genre: fluff, angst

Wc: 663

Warnings: eng isn’t my first lang so I might have made a few mistake although I try not to, not proofread, feel free to correct me 🍓

Monday, 18 March, 2024

You lay in bed scrolling on ur phone with a slight headache. Feeling the pain increase, u get off of ur phone and glance at the clock only to notice it’s 2 in the morning. You and Sunghoon had a fight it this was probably the third day you’ve gone without talking to each other.

It all started on a fine day, warm coffee, 9 in the morning on a cozy Saturday. You sat on the sofa with Sunghoon, against his arm for warmth. You both were watching a new series with breakfast and coffee. Everything was fine until his phone vibrates with a notification and you slightly lift ur head to see. ‘Choi Eunkyung, hey hoon!’ “Weird” you thought. Laying back on his arm you start losing ur focus on the series and start overthinking, what if she’s prettier, what if he likes her?? You were going nuts and decided to go to the washroom to calm down. And if u thought Sunghoon hadn’t noticed u getting all worked up, u were wrong. Just as he was abt to ask u if u were okay, you got put and rushed to the washroom. The next day, feeling useless and unworthy of Sunghoon's love when he had someone else, you texted ur old high school friend, Kim Junghe. You talked for a while and left ur phone open on the bed intentionally for Sunghoon to see. It was not just that girl bothering you, Sunghoon had changed, he gpbecame quite, showed no interest in what you talked abt, he just seemed so unhappy with you. But then again you didn’t know if you were just overthinking. That evening, the house was loud, you both were shouting. Not wanting to listen anymore you break down and lock ur self up in ur shared room. He came, said sorry but ntg worked in ur head since  it was the first time he had ever raised his voice at you, you didn’t understand why tho. (end of flashback)

You walk up to the kitchen noticing Sunghoon laying on the couch eyes wide open. You get ur self a cup of water and plop down on the chair next to the counter placing ur cup on the table. You were overthinking again but this time around, Sunghoon got up, got himself a can of beer and sat down next to u. “Isn’t this the third can today?” u ask concerned. He nods his head with a soft ‘mhm’ as a response. Looking back at ur cup, you ask him “did you really love me?” The atmosphere got heavy, the air darkened around you two. “I had 33 pages all abt u in my diary, ur cafe order, ur moms birthday too. I had ur ring size too.” You notice him start to tear up. “I had dreams abt our family y/n, those were my happiest nights…” his voice was unstable, eyes red with sorrow. You couldn’t help but pull him into a hug. He rested his face on ur shoulder as you rubbed his back, running ur fingers thru his hair. He slowly raised his head to face you, eyes meeting urs, “Park Eunkyung is the latest staff of ur favorite shop, I had asked them for ur dream purse in a cute, gift like wrapping for our two year anniversary. I’m sorry, sorry for raising my voice at u, I’ll block her if u want.” Your heart sank seeing him cry, “Hoon, I love you so much but seeing another girl you’ve never mentioned made me go nuts I’m sorry. Sorry for texting someone else, sorry for being mad at you, sorry for shouting at u without even knowing what was wrong.”

You cuddled and placed butterfly kisses all over his face just to see him flustered and smiling with his fangs out. He cupped your face and said “Ur my whole world y/n” the sincerity in his voice was evident “I love you too hoon”.

[avengersfantasies]

Intimacy

Summary: You and Steve begin a full week of spending time together.

taglist: @kandis-mom @missvelvetsstuff @mavrellover91 @natashasilverfox

You were beyond excited to say the least. Today was the day. It was the first day in the entire week that you got to spend with the love of your life – Steve Rogers – Captain America himself. How he’d come to fall in love with such a normal person was something you’d never understand, but you weren’t going to question it. He had put in for this week off well over a month ago, and the two of you were determined to make the most of it. You and Steve had been together for six months, and you both decided that it would be best to take things slow. That meant that this was going to be the first time he’d spent the night with you. It also meant that it’d be the first time for some other things as well. A whole week with just the two of you was something you never thought you’d get to have because of how busy he is, but here it was. It was Sunday…the last day of him working until his week off. You knew he’d be tired when he got to your apartment, so you planned for some fun things to do together that wouldn’t require much energy. Monday through Saturday could be filled with all the excitement and workouts either of you wanted. You were just finishing setting up the Monopoly game when you heard a knock at the door. Excitedly, you ran to it and opened it up to see Steve standing on the other side with his duffle bag.

            “Yay!” you squealed – causing the super soldier to chuckle and pick you up. He closed and locked the door to the apartment and carried you inside – plopping you down onto the sofa.

            “Hey beautiful,” he smiled and kissed you deeply – dropping his bag next to the sofa and pulling you into his lap. You giggled against his lips – he tasted like the sweetest honey that had ever graced your tongue – his breath minty with a tinge of beer. You let out a soft moan and licked the taste of him off your lips. “Love that sound comin’ from you.” His voice was soft yet husky – quiet and intimate. You blushed hard. Pretty much anything that came from this man’s mouth had the ability to light your core on fire.

“Do you want a beer?” you asked – getting up from his lap and heading to the kitchen.

“Love one.”

You grabbed two beers and headed back over to the couch where you saw him playing with the Monopoly money. You handed him a beer. “Here, babe.” He smiled and took it – sipping it and letting out a content sigh. You giggled and sat back down next to him. “Good?”

“Oh yes,” he smiled – his blue eyes looking over at you. You took a sip of your beer and let out a similar sigh – laying in between his legs and with your back against his chest. He grabbed the remote. “What’re we watching?”

“You choose,” you shrugged. “As long as I’m with you, I don’t care what’s on.” You smiled up at him.

He smiled softly and kissed your nose – his hand absentmindedly rubbing your arm as the two of you watched the show. At this moment, even though you wanted to make love with the soldier for the first time, the intimate feeling of being held in his arms – the feeling of being safe – offered you a type of pleasure and happiness you only thought could be achieved through sex.

[gallivantingheart]

who?: secretary!seokmin x CEO!(f)reader

word count: 1186

genre/s: CEO!au

warnings: medium-sized angst, pining, allusion to makeouts, mc is emotionally flip-floppy

synopsis: you're really into your secretary, work romance complications be damned.

a/n: sup. it's been a while? no further comment...

Your hand slithers beneath his loose hoodie to greedily feel the burn of his abdomen. But as if he’s been electrocuted, he jolts and you feel the scrape of his teeth as he rises from the haze. Seokmin clears his throat and withdraws from you on the sofa, somehow flushed all the way to the tips of his ears, shoulders rounded high. His hoodie strings are a little wonky from you pulling on them. Your breath is laboured and you can taste him so vividly on your tongue, sweet and something soft as if you could taste clouds.

“Ma’am, we should stop.” He murmurs, voice a little scratchy.

Instantly it feels as if a bucket of ice cold water has been dumped on you and the thundering of your heart stutters for a different reason. You tuck yourself together, tugging your shirt back down appropriately and running your fingers through your hair to settle it. If you were alone, you could ruminate on the memory of his large palms braced against your skin or the sweet Sprite taste on his mouth.

“I’m sorry. Mostly. It’s just - you’re really attractive you know.” You mumble, any version of confidence drained from you. “Sometimes, it’s all I can think about.”

He ducks his head as well. “I’m really flattered you think so. I, well…you’re my boss. I don’t want this to impact our business together. In fact, let’s just leave this like this and we can continue to be valued colleagues to each other. Friends who got distracted, gave into mistaken temptation. And on Monday it will be a new day, hmm? Yeah, and-“

You balled your fists up and squeeze your eyes shut. “No!”

You look up at him, turning to face him. You reach out to press your palms against his knees and he jolts.

“No. I know, I know it looks messy and you’re questioning it because I’m your boss. God, I’m the CEO of Pledis Company - I’m The Boss! But I’m really into you. There might be a lot to worry about, but right now I just want to lay bare my feelings. You’re so easy to have affection for I don't know why I didn’t sooner.”

He sits, slack jawed, hard to achieve with Seokmin. He’s always had such a way with words to see him without a single syllable is a feat in itself. But you take that as an opening and barrel on with whatever word vomit comes to mind.

“You’re so kind and capable and willing to help. And really, sometimes if my head wasn’t screwed on I feel like I’d forget it, but you never would. You keep me sane. God, I used to get so jealous when the marketing girls would chat with you in the lunch room until I realised that was just who you are. Seokmin - ah, even your name is lovely. You don’t have to feel obliged to feel the same or say anything like it because of my position. In fact, if you don’t feel the same, I would prefer you let it rip and tell me right now. But if you think there is anything in your heart for me more than friendship or a business relationship, please also tell me. Please don’t leave me in the dark.”

As you spoke, you could feel the wall of tension building between you, thicker by the moment and more impenetrable. But as much as it may have been a burden, you weren't going to hide yourself anymore. Especially after that kiss! Heaving a breath, you lift your head to look him in the eye. His mouth has closed now, thankfully. But other than that, your eyes scour his face, trying to find meaning or understanding.

“Ma’am, I didn’t realise…you felt this strongly.” He replies quietly.

You roll your eyes. “Seokmin, we’ve just made out on my sofa. Please, call me by my name - no formalities required.”

Again, he blooms red. “Right.”

With hesitation, your heart sinks and you withdraw yourself. Your posture and demeanor take your words back for you - chicken. “Don’t think about it too hard. I’ve said a lot. Seokmin, go home.”

You stand up and round the sofa, grabbing his keys from the dining table and his phone off the floor - so maybe you were a little rough when trying to manoeuvre him down over you a few minutes ago. Even his jacket hung up neatly on a coat hook by your door. You gather it all together and stand by the shoe rack to encourage him to leave.

He stands too, but it all feels like an afterthought, his mind and body not moving at the same time. In fact, he stops by the bench of your kitchen, arm braced against it. You bite your tongue to rush him along some more. Seokmin’s dark eyes settle on a vase of flowers at your hall table.

“I got those for you.” He says softly.

You turn and stare at them too. You can’t help but smile a little, fondness filling your chest. “Yes, you did. They’re the first thing I see when I get home.”

The vase would be priceless to most, an antique, but it’s the frail florals perched within that you treasure.

“I didn’t put my name on the card.” He adds. “They were for the Source Corp. merger.”

You shrug. “I still knew it was you. Only you know all of my favourite flowers - even the ones I forget I like. Like the freesias. They always remind me of my mum.”

“I don’t want to hide how I feel either. But I’m not…”

You smile. “Not as deep in? I understand. I can love you more than you like me and still be happy with that. I’ll take whatever I can get.”

He takes his things from your grasp, sweeping his bomber jacket around his wide shoulders. He frowns at you, of course he’s concerned.

“I don’t like the way that sounds, ma’am - uh, y/n. I don’t want you to be hung up on me or wait.”

As much as you knew it was a little unhealthy the way you pined after him, you couldn’t help it. And you weren’t going to stifle your feelings when they were already at the stage they were, it would only hurt you more. So you smile and roll your eyes, opening the door for him with a mute beep of the lock. You reach up and smudge off the faint sheen of your tinted balm from the edge of his mouth with your thumb like someone who loved another fondly and lightly kissed his smooth cheek instead.

“Good night, Seokmin. I will see you bright and early tomorrow at the office for our 9am Sales meeting.” You say flippantly.

He looks a little lost and listless as he steps outside and hums agreement, hands jammed in his pockets and turning to stare at you from the hallway. You shrug and simply shut it, only letting your expression crumple at the lacquered wood when you hear the soft double beep of the lock.

[chelseachilly]

king of my heart - pt 5

i’ll be there if you’re the toast of the town, babe or if you strike out and you’re crawling home

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: now officially dating, you can’t help but miss your boyfriend while he’s away on international duty warnings: none for this chapter :) word count: 3.1k

a/n: thank you all for your lovely responses to this fic! just as a bit of an fyi, i’m not exactly following the game schedule for the euro qualifiers bc i just cba honestly haha <3

see my masterlist for previous chapters

-

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charlottewright I spy a certain someone 😉❄️

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-

Dating Ben Chilwell turns out to be even better than you imagined.

You’re happier than you’ve ever been when you’re with him, whether it’s a Monday evening cuddling on his sofa watching Succession or a Saturday at Stamford Bridge watching him dominate on the pitch.

The only drawback is that it’s difficult for you to squeeze in this time together between his intense training schedule and you entering a busy time of year at work.

You despise it when he has an away game and you’re forced to spend the night apart, as you’ve grown accustomed to sleeping next to him. Even when he’s exhausted from training or you have to work late, you usually end up making your way to the other’s place and crashing there.

So when the season ends and Ben has to leave for international break, you can’t help but dread the separation.

You’re incredibly happy for him, knowing how much it means to be called up for the national team once again, but you hate the fact that he’s going to be gone for weeks.

“I wish you could come with me,” Ben whines as you lay in bed together.

He has to leave soon to go to the England training camp, where he’ll be for the next week before flying to Italy and then Malta for the qualifiers. In total, it will only be two weeks, but as you’ve hardly gone 24 hours apart since you began officially dating a month ago, it’s going to feel like a century.

“I know, babe,” you murmur into his bare chest, his arms holding you closely. “I’m really sorry I can’t make it to either match. Work has been so crazy and it will be tough to leave mid-week.”

“Don’t apologize, love, your job is just important as mine.”

“I think most of the country would disagree with you there,” you chuckle, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

He smiles, though it seems a bit forced, and you can feel the tension in his body.

“Are you nervous?” you ask gently, resting your chin on his chest to look up at him.

“A bit,” he admits. “I don’t know if I’ll even be starting, but I really want to be at my best for this. The Euros could be my chance to really make an impact for this team, you know?”

He’s confided in you that missing the World Cup last year due to injury took a big toll on his mental health, and that it still stings a bit to this day. Obviously, the Euros are his next big opportunity to show what he’s capable of, and you know he will.

“You’re going to do great, Ben,” you say sincerely. “I can’t wait to watch you play, even if it has to be on TV. And Southgate would be a fool not to start you, by the way.”

Ben smiles and leans in to kiss you softly, his lips lingering on yours.

“Thank you, baby,” he says, pulling you closer and briefly glancing at the watch on his wrist. “Fuck, I have to leave soon.”

“I know, and I have to go to work,” you groan, kissing his collarbone. “Five more minutes?”

Ben nods and kisses your forehead. “Five more minutes.”

-

Ben ❤️ - 11:32 PM I miss you so much 😔

You - 11:33PM I miss you too 🥺 How’s training going?

Ben ❤️ - 11:33PM It’s good to be here but I’m exhausted and the gaffer wants us up at 6 tomorrow 

You - 11:34PM You should get some rest then babe, we can talk tomorrow

Ben ❤️ - 11:34PM Can we facetime for 10 mins and then I’ll sleep?? Promise

You - 11:34PM Ok, calling now ❤️

-

The day of England’s match against Italy rolls around, and you feel a pang in your stomach from the moment you wake up.

You so badly wish you could be there to support your boyfriend, but you have to work tomorrow and you really can’t justify flying to Naples and back for one evening.

You text Ben throughout the morning, sending him words of encouragement.

You - 11:21AM Good luck today babe!! 

Ben ❤️ - 11:24AM Thanks baby ❤️ I’m on the starting lineup!

You - 11:30AM Omg!! Can’t wait to watch 😘

Around lunch time, as you’re sitting at your desk reading emails and feeling just a bit sorry for yourself, you get a call from Charlotte.

“Y/N!” she exclaims. “I just got a call from Declan’s girlfriend Lauren and she said a few of them chartered a jet to fly to Naples to surprise the boys. There’s room for both of us if we want to go. Please tell me you can leave work!”

You’ve met Declan and his girlfriend a few times now, at various gatherings at Mason’s place. She’s a super nice person and it’s incredibly thoughtful that she would invite you and Charlotte, both of you very new to the Premier League WAG crowd.

Charlotte and Mason, while keeping things fairly casual, have pretty much been exclusive for nearly as long as you and Ben, though they see each other much less due to Charlotte being away for work so often.

“I’m not sure,” you sigh. “I would have to ask my boss for the rest of today and tomorrow off, and I don’t want to seem flighty. No pun intended.”

“Babes, you never leave work early,” Charlotte says. “And how often do you get to take a private jet to surprise your boyfriend in Italy?”

She does have a point there. This would be an amazing opportunity, and more importantly, it would allow you to support Ben and see him a week earlier than planned. That’s hard to resist.

“Okay, I’ll ask. When do we have to be at the airport?”

“An hour and a half, but I’m already packing for you!”

You smile and roll your eyes affectionately as you hang up and go to your boss’ office. You’re nervous to ask, but she immediately tells you that you’re one of her best employees and that you’ve been working your ass off since you started, so you deserve this.

You thank her profusely before packing up your stuff and rushing to meet Charlotte at the airport.

“Hey, Charlotte, Y/N!” Lauren says, greeting you both with a smile as you and Charlotte meet up with the others on the tarmac. “I’m so happy you could make it!”

“Thanks so much for inviting us!” you say, fiddling with the strap of your purse.

You suddenly feel a bit nervous - these women, a couple of whom you’ve never met before, are all so beautiful and glamorous. You, however, just came from work and are wearing minimal makeup, your hair in loose waves and a simple light blue dress on.

“It’s great to meet you,” one of the girls says. “I never thought we’d see Ben settle down, but according to Jack he’s totally whipped.”

You can’t help but blush at this comment - and the fact that Ben is so obviously into you that even his friends’ girlfriends know about it.

“You must be Sasha,” you deduce, realizing she’s Jack Grealish’s girlfriend. Jack being one of Ben’s oldest mates, you’ve met him a couple times, and you recall him mentioning her. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

Sasha smiles at you before turning to Lauren. “We’d better go if we want to make it for kick-off.”

The flight ends up being a lot of fun. The girls pop a bottle of champagne and you all get to know each other better, Lauren telling you and Charlotte stories about Mason and Declan as kids and you and Charlotte answering questions about your jobs.

“I think Dec mentioned you’ve always been a big Chelsea fan?” Lauren asks after showing you some photos of their adorable baby boy. “It must’ve been a bit surreal when one of the lads started chatting you up.”

You laugh and take a sip of your drink. “Yeah, at first it was definitely a bit mental. But it felt so natural with Ben from the start, honestly. It was like I’d known him forever.”

All the girls erupt in a chorus of “awww”s, except Charlotte, who gives you a knowing smile.

As Lauren, Sasha, and the others discuss how they’re going to surprise the boys after the match, you lean over and whisper to Charlotte.

“You know, I never pictured us as football WAGs, but this is really fun,” you admit.

“Speak for yourself, Victoria Beckham was my role model growing up,” Charlotte jokes. “By the way, everything they’re saying is true. Chilly is obsessed with you.”

“I don’t know,” you blush. “Do you think it’s too much surprising him like this? We’ve only been official for a month.”

“You’re way more committed than me and Mason, and I’m doing it too,” Charlotte shrugs. “Don’t overthink it, Y/N. He’s gonna flip when he sees you, I promise.”

You decide to take her advice and try to relax and enjoy yourself, sipping champagne and continuing to chat with the other girls.

By the time you land, it’s getting close to game time, so you all decide you’ll surprise the guys after the match is over. Lauren leads the way to the box you’re in and you’re all seated with drinks and snacks just in time for the boys to make their way onto the pitch.

Your heart races when you see Ben in person for the first time in a week, albeit from very far away. He looks so good in his England kit, standing among some of the best players in the world and ready to represent his country. You couldn’t be prouder.

While your spirits are high at the beginning of the match, things quickly begin to go downhill as play progresses.

Italy scores twice in the first half, one of which due to what you’ll admit was a poor defense from Ben. At halftime, it’s still 2-0, and you can see the disheartened looks on the team’s faces when they walk out to play the second half.

You wince as Mason gets tackled and falls over in pain, and you squeeze Charlotte’s hand when you see the obvious worry on her face. Thankfully, he’s able to get up and continue playing, but the ref fails to give out a yellow card to the Italian player.

You can see the frustration on Ben’s face at this clear oversight, and the match goes on with England continuing to struggle.

With about twenty minutes to go, both teams decide to make some substitutions, and your heart clenches when you see Ben’s number flash on the screen. He looks completely defeated as he jogs off the pitch.

Harry Kane manages to score a goal with an assist from Declan in the last few minutes, but it’s clear that it won’t be enough as the clock runs out and Italy take the win.

It’s a unanimous decision among the girls to go back to the hotel and wait for the boys there rather than try to find them in the tunnels. You obviously have much less experience with this than they do, but even you know that it’s probably best to give them some time to cool off.

Despite the fact that you know it’s for the best, all you want to do is find Ben and hug him tightly, knowing he’ll be in need of some comfort. You restrain yourself from texting him, not wanting to blow the surprise for everyone else.

You wait outside the hotel for the team bus to pull up, knowing it will take a little bit for them to shower, do any post-match press and drive over.

Eventually, the bus pulls up, and the team begins to exit. Although they’re all obviously upset with the result, you see some of them perk up as they spot their partners there to greet them.

Mason is among the first, and he runs over to kiss Charlotte with a smile on his face.

As the others reunite, you can’t help but feel a little nervous again - you know Ben will be feeling shitty and he may even want to be alone. And here you are in Italy, with no escape until your flight tomorrow.

You don’t have to worry for long, thankfully. As soon as Ben steps off the bus and locks eyes with you, his clenched jaw and furrowed brow disappear and he jogs over to you immediately.

Without a thought, you leap into his arms, and Ben hugs you tighter than he ever has before, burying his face in your shoulder and inhaling your scent.

“What are you doing here?” he mumbles into your shoulder. “I mean, how did you-“

“Lauren decided to charter a plane so we could catch the match, and I guess Char and I are inner circle WAGs now,” you murmur, and it has the desired effect of making him laugh softly. “How are you feeling, babe?”

You pull back to look him in the eyes, cupping his face with both hands. His arms remain coiled around your waist, refusing to let go, and he drops his forehead to yours.

“I played like shit,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry you flew out to see that.”

“You weren’t shit,” you tell him gently. “You had a bad day, and so did the rest of the team. It happens. Nobody is perfect all the time.”

“At this level, I should be perfect,” he says. “I should’ve been better. He subbed me off for a reason.”

You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips, unable to take the look of complete self-loathing on his face for a moment longer.

“Ben, honey, it’s alright,” you say softly. “You won the last match, you’ll win the next one. You’ll get another chance.”

Ben sighs and pulls you back into his embrace, squeezing you just as tightly as before. You begin to hear the flashing of cameras, and you turn to see that a small crowd of paparazzi have gathered. You can only imagine how much these shots of half the England team snogging their girlfriends would be worth.

Although you and Ben have teased your relationship a bit on social media, and you’ve gone out in public a few times, you have yet to announce anything official.

You know that remaining out here will ensure that your face is in the tabloids tomorrow, but you can’t bring yourself to care right now.

“Sorry, babe, do you wanna go inside?” Ben asks, dropping his hands from your sides reluctantly.

You shake your head and pull him back into your arms, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“No, screw them,” you murmur. “I wanna hug my boyfriend.”

Ben just holds you closer and rocks you back and forth slightly in his arms, and you hear him mumble a quiet “thank you” into your hair.

-

Sure enough, within a few hours the photos are all over Twitter, but by that point you’re naked in the luxurious hotel bed, limbs tangled with Ben’s.

All of the players and their partners retreated to their respective rooms not long after meeting up outside. It was clear that everyone was in need of some rest and recuperation prior to their next match in Malta in a few days.

You and Ben spent a little bit just laying in bed, silently holding each other and exchanging soft kisses. Eventually, he began to speak, and you talked through the loss today and how he felt about being subbed off.

Not for the first time, you consider yourself lucky that of all the footballers you could’ve fallen for, you chose one who regularly goes to therapy and is surprisingly well-adjusted for a male professional athlete in his 20s.

After talking for a while, you had slow, emotional sex, both of you craving each other after your week apart.

Now, you’re just enjoying each other’s company and laughing as you scroll through the headlines on social media.

“This is a good one,” Ben chuckles, the stress on his face from earlier now completely vanishing. “‘Beautiful mystery woman consoles distraught England and Chelsea left-back Ben Chilwell after devastating loss to Italy.’”

“God, they’re dramatic,” you roll your eyes.

“Not wrong, though,” Ben smiles, kissing your forehead. “Thank you so much for being here. Losing sucks, but it’s not nearly as bad with you.”

“Of course, I’m glad I came.”

You both set down your phones and lean in for a kiss, Ben pulling all of your body weight on top of him.

“You sure you’re okay with us going public?” he asks, running a hand through your hair as the other one holds your waist. “People can be pricks online.”

Despite you remaining unnamed in the articles, some fans have already figured out your identity. Ben follows you and likes everything you post, so it really wasn’t that hard to determine. Since the photos dropped, you’ve been steadily gaining Instagram followers, and you know things are going to change for you a bit.

“I can handle it,” you tell him, kissing him lightly. “I’m so happy with you, I don’t wanna hide that.”

“Alright, but please tell me if it gets to be too much. I know you can handle it, but I don’t want you to have to. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree, brushing your nose against his, your eyes fluttering shut. “Now, can we order room service? I’m starving and I don’t wanna leave this bed.”

Ben smiles and nods, reaching over to grab the phone. “Yeah, get whatever you want, love.”

You spend the rest of the night cuddling in bed, you eating copious amounts of pasta while Ben sticks to salad, and fall asleep watching a movie together.

You’re both still disappointed from the match and dreading you having to fly back to London tomorrow, but it’s a perfect night nonetheless.

Really, any night you’re together feels perfect to you, as cheesy as that is, and it’s becoming pretty clear to you why.

You’re in love with him, and it might be too soon to say, but you think he just might be in love with you too.

-

benchilwell

📍Ta Qali National Stadium, Malta

liked by yourusername, masonmount and others benchilwell That’s more like it ❤️🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 Big win today! @england

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chelsfan21 omg chilly’s gf confirmed???

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next chapter 💙

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #1111: Cuddling Hedgehogs (Sonic)

11:16 a.m. at Amy's House's Living Room.......

TV: Oh Sasuke~ Just come back home soon, will ya?

Amy: (Cuddling Under a Blanket With Sonic While Sitting on the Sofa Together, Rolling her Eyes) Who wanna bet he he'll be gone for a month this time?

Sonic: I'll him two to three months tops.

Amy: (Turns to her Boyfriend) Oh come on, who would be that cruel and crazy enough to leave for THAT long? ('Sigh') Then again this is Sasuke we're talking about, so its possible.....

Sonic: Yep. That Sakura chick could've done a lot better honestly.

Amy: Right!? She has so many options and yet she chose to marry SASUKE of that people?

Sonic: (Shrugs) The guy been having good looks since his academy years.

Amy: (Starts Pouting) Good looks doesn't mean jack-squat when you go out betraying everyone you know in the village and try murdering your teammates more than once!

Sonic: (Speaks in a Sarcastic Tone) But Amy, Sasuke was their dear friend and teammate! And he's been through soooo much trauma too.

Amy: AND!? Naruto has been wrongfully hated by the entire Leaf Village ever since he was little boy, but you don't see him going around joining the Akatsuki to destroy it! That jerk should be lucky Naruto care enough not to put him behind bars for the rest of his dumb life.....

Sonic: Or have him exiled altogether. But yeah, Sakura should've married someone else. Like, Lee for example.

Amy: Oh my god, YESSSS! I don't care how bushy his brows are, Lee is such sweetheart and hard worker. (Looks Up at Sonic With a Smile on her Face) Kinda like you in a way.

Sonic: Seriously?

Amy: (Happily Snuggles onto Sonic) Yes, seriously!~ I mean, besides you being more lazy in comparison-

Sonic: Hey, I can be just as hard working as he can thank you!

Amy: (Forms a Teasing Smirk on her Face) Yeah, when laying around napping and eating chili dogs all day aren't involved.

Sonic: Taking naps are essential for having a relaxing day and don't you dare insult the exquisite masterpiece that are chili dogs

Amy: How are hot dogs covered in chili exquisite in any capacity?

Sonic: They looks and taste good obviously. And they're the town's favorite, so there! (Crosses his Arms With a Satisfied Smirk on his Face)

Amy: (Sighs While Rolling her Eyes) Anyways, while you can be such a lazy hog at times....(Smiles Softly) You're just as sweet and helpful as Brushy Brown was. And it's all the more reason why I've fallen over heels for you~ (Kiss Sonic on the Cheek)

Sonic: (Chuckles Lightly While Blushing a Little) Well, I'm glad I'm able to live up to the expectations with the handsome devil himself!~ (Grabs his Chin While Thinking) Speaking of which, you I would look good in that green suit of his or....nah?

Amy: I think so. (Starts Smirking Seductively) Not sure if you know this by now, but I just so happen to be fond of men in uniforms~

Sonic: (Smirks Back) Really now?~ Are you also fond of men giving you kisses all day long?~

Amy: (Giggles Softly) Yes please~

The couple leans forward to kiss one another on the lips, until the sudden sound of a ring tone startled them both.

'Follow me inside! Outside! Through the Stratosphere!~'

Amy: (Sighs Heavily While Pinching the Bridge of her Nose) Great........The meetings about to start.....

Sonic: (Raised an Eyebrow in Confusion) Meeting?

Amy: Remember that whole Resistance group me, Knuckles, and the others form a long while ago? Well, since then, we've been attending their meetings for some time, discussing how we keep the city safe from Eggman and other word level threats and most of which lasted for way too long that it makes me want to die!

Sonic: How long are we talking exactly?

Amy: Three to four hours. Five, whenever a heated debate starts. And the meeting is supposed be every Mondays and Wednesdays. What day is it today?

Sonic: Uh....Tuesday?

Amy: Exactly. So, tell me why we're having another today when we JUST had one last night!?

Sonic: Last night, huh? So that explains the bags under your eyes......

Amy: Yeah, hated how noticeable it is. ('Sigh') But there's really not much I can do right now, but to ao and-

Sonic: (Already on Amy's Phone) Wassup, Wassup! Sonic's the name, speed my game! And you've reached the house of the cute and awesome Amy Rose, who is not available at the moment. So please, be cool and leave her a message after the beep, will ya?

Knuckles: (On the Other Line) Sonic, what the hell are you-

Sonic: BEEEEEP BYE! (Quickly Ends the Call Before Letting Out a Relived Sigh) ('Phew') (Makes to Finger Guns With a Smirk on his Face) Piece of cake.

Amy: (Surprised by What Just Happened) Sonic, what did you just do!?

Sonic: Saved you from wasting three to five hours on another meeting. Now you get to spend the rest of the day relaxing and watching TV with yours truly.

Amy: You did all this for me?

Sonic: (Smiles Brightly) Of course! Now, i know it wasn't professional of me to up amd lie to them like that, i couldn't have my own girlfriend getting tired over some boring city meeting- (Immediately Gets Hug Tackled by his Girlfriend) -Oof!

Amy: (Happily Snuggles onto her Boyfriend) Ohh my sweet, darling, Sonic, I'll never forget this!~ Thank you so much!~ But you do realize Knuckles is gonna eventually kill the both of us, right?

Sonic: (Shrugs) Eh. We can deal with Knucklehead some other time. (Gives Amy a Seductive Smirk of his Own) In the meantime, don'tcha think we've got some unfinished business to start on right now?~ With only to the two of us can handle~

Amy: (Smirks Back) Come to Momma Rose~

The couple continues their cuddle session by snuggling and kissing one another on the kiss. For a moment it was a start of a very relaxing day for the both of them. That is until it came into screeching halt with a loud knocking sound.

'KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK'

Knuckles: (Outside on the Doorway) SONIC! AMY! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!!

Sonic: Or we can deal with him now apparently......

Amy: ('Sighs in Defeat') So much for our free time.....

Knuckles: QUIT MESSING AROUND AND OPEN THIS DOOR NOOOOOOOW!!!

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[ozwriterchick]

Who the hell is Daddy???

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes; OFC/Meghan Snow; OFC/Darcy Hunt; Other Avengers mentioned

Content warnings: Angst; Pregnancy

Legend: Italics are OFC Journal entries

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist

Tuesday, 31 January, 2023

I have a secret.  

Nobody else knows.

I’ve known for a few days and I’m busting to tell someone but I have to tell Bucky first.  The problem is that he’s away on a mission for the next couple of weeks.  So I have to keep this secret until he gets back, because it’s the type of secret that you should tell someone face to face, not on the phone or by text.

I guess given you’re just a journal I can tell you the secret.  I’m pregnant.  Bucky and I haven’t really talked about kids, I mean the subject has come up but we always get interrupted.

I need to figure out a good way to tell him.  Something cute that will make him cry when he realises he’s going to be a Dad.

I’m going to do some google research and see what I can come up with.  It sucks that I can’t tell anyone else, or maybe I can.  Just one person.  Maybe just one?

Thursday 2 February, 2023

I caved.  I couldn’t help myself.  I’m so excited that I had to.  I told my best friend Darcy.  I couldn’t really tell any of the Avengers, I didn’t want any of them to spill the beans before I could.

We worked out I can get a couple of winter soldier onesies, and I’m going to put them and the positive pregnancy test in a box and he can open it.  With a sign inside saying  “You might say you’re dad’s a superhero but mine actually is”

I have just over a week to get the little suit in and make the sign.  Then I just have to work out when to give it to him.  It will depend on what time he gets back from the mission.  If it’s late, I might wait until breakfast the next mornings. 

Right, on to the plan.

Monday 13 February, 2023

The present for Bucky is all set to go.  It looks amazing, Darcy was such a great help to me in putting it all together.

I’m about 7.5 weeks along now and the morning sickness is starting to kick my butt.  I am trying to keep it quiet so nobody in the team who is here suspects anything.  

Yesterday Tony was walking past my suite and heard me throwing up and knocked on the door to make sure I was ok.  I was able to pass it off as just a bit of food poisoning or gastro and thankfully because he hadn’t heard any other vomiting, he bought it.  Of course, he’ll understand once Bucky and I let everyone know about our little bundle that’s on the way.

Monday 13 February, 2023

It’s almost dinner time and I know I’ve already written my journal entry for today but I just heard from Bucky and he should be home tomorrow morning.  Valentine’s Day!  What a great day to tell him about my surprise.

I told him I’d organise something for dinner, he said after this long mission he really just wanted to relax and spend time together so we are going to order a food delivery and just veg on the sofa in front of the tv.

Tuesday, 14 February, 2023

Bucky is home!  He’s currently having a nap, but he said he wants to spend the whole day together.  I can’t wait for tonight, I’m going to give him the box between dinner and the movie.

So excited.

Later that afternoon after Bucky wakes up from his sleep, he and Meghan take a shower together and things get steamy not just from the hot water.

Afterwards they lay in bed together, just snuggling and talking.  Bucky tells her about the mission, the things that went wrong and that they ultimately successfully completed the mission.  He has to do a de-brief but because Sam was injured, they are putting it off until tomorrow.

The box with the “present” in it is sitting underneath the side table next to the sofa.  The buyer sounds and Bucky goes down to get the food.  While he’s gone, Meghan grabs the box and puts it on the coffee table.

Bucky returns with the food and sets the bags on the coffee table.

“Hey sweets, what’s in the box?” He asked.

“Just a little gift I got you”

“Sure, you know you didn’t need to get me anything but I’m super curious as to what’s in it.”

“Well, you can open it after dinner, so eat up.”

They eat dinner and Bucky notices she’s just picking at her food.  “You ok sweets? You’re not eating much?”

“Yeah I’m good, just a bit nervous I guess about whether you’ll like the gift.”

“Aww, Meggy, I’m sure I’ll love it. In fact, I’m done now, let’s clear away the food and then I can open it and put your nerves to rest.”

They cleared away the dishes, put the leftover food in containers in their fridge and went back to sit on the sofa.

Meghan picks up the box and hands it to him.  He unwraps the gift and looks at her as he opens the box.

The first thing he sees is the sign that says “Every superhero needs a side kick”. He looks at her quizzically wondering if she got him a cat like they had talked about.  He digs a bit further and feels some material.  He pulls it out and sees these 2 onesies and his face freezes.  Onesies are usually for babies, not for cats or dogs.

She looks at him hopefully and says “Keep going, there’s one more thing in there”. 

In his mind he’s thinking “I hope it’s a I’m joking it’s just a cat note or something similar.”  He feels the hard plastic and hauls out a stick that says “Pregnant” on it.

He drops everything, stands up and puts his hand over his mouth.  He’s facing away from her because this is the woman he loves and is she telling him she’s pregnant?

“Buck, are you ok? Do you understand the gift?”

“Uhhh yeah, I understand, I think.  Are you.. Are you pregnant?”

“Yes, about 8 weeks, aren’t you excited?”

He looks at her and his heart is breaking.  She can see it on his face and her face falls.  “I know we’ve not really talked about babies but I.. I thought you might be a little excited.”

“How could this make me excited.  I just don’t get why you would tell me this, like this, and expect me to jump for joy.”

“Bucky, I.. I don’t understand. I know it’s a shock, I was shocked too.  But I’m excited about this, even if you apparently aren’t.”

“I need some air” he said, grabbing his jacket he stormed out of the room slamming the door.

Tuesday, 14 February, 2023

I don’t know what went wrong.  Bucky opened his gift and instead of celebrating I’m writing in my journal and I have no idea where he is.

He got really angry and just stormed out.  I know it was a shock and I have had time to get used to the idea but even when I first found out, I never reacted like that.

I hope we can work this out, but I do know, that this baby is loved even if it’s Dad is being a butthole about it.

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