#and i wonder if it's just in my head and then i get miserable af like this

[dangoulains-devotion]

yuffie has many interesting elements to her but people refuse to move past "i find energetic kids annoying" and it makes me sad

[weedle-testaburger]

i'm so grateful you guys basically never see my face bc whenever i remember how people perceive me it makes me dysphoric as fuck

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Never Meant to See You Again

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: Your ex-boyfriend, Jake Seresin, confesses how he really feels. Meanwhile, it's raining, so he looks sexy af doing it.

CW: ANGST - sorry, my loves. I know it's Valentine's season but sometimes you just wanna hurt so good.

WC: 1600+

This fic was written for @roosterforme's love is in the air tgm challenge! Inspired by the song I Wish It Would Rain Down by Phil Collins.

Masterlist

“Hey!” you hear the desperation in his voice even with the deafening wind. “Y/N!” he shouts when you don’t stop walking. “Will you just” – he pleads, the sound of his voice growing closer despite your quickening pace – “Just for one second, just” –

You feel his hand close around your arm and you whip your head around. Jake watches you with a grimace as the wind pummels his face. “What?” you ask aggressively.

Jake lets go of you and shrugs, spreading his arms to indicate that he hasn’t thought this far ahead. “We have to coexist, Y/N.”

“Great,” you respond. “Let’s do that.” You start walking again – briskly because the sky is darkening and your hair is starting to escape its bun and swipe violently at your face.

You hear him sighing just before a boom of thunder drowns out his approaching footsteps. He falls in step with you despite you trying to keep your distance. “We’re on the same team,” he says, loudly enough that you can hear him despite the howling wind.

You glance up at him distrustfully as he slows his pace to meet your gaze.

“Y/N,” he starts again.

“Don’t.” You shake your head, tearing your eyes away from his overgrowth of stubble, still walking.

“Look,” he says, taking a hold of your arm again to get your attention. “I know that you don’t need me,” he pauses, watching you steadily. “You don’t need me in your life.” He sighs, regret stealing over his features. “But you might still need me up there.” He points up at the rolling clouds overhead with the same hand that’s holding his helmet, because his other one is still firmly wrapped around your forearm.

You glare at him mutely. Jake Seresin might have been a shitty boyfriend, but he’s a hell of a pilot and you know that he’s right.

Jake lets out a resigned breath. “Wasn’t my idea. I never meant to see you again, babe.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“It’s temporary,” he says and you wonder if he’s referring to the mission you’ve both been called back for or him calling you ‘babe’.

“We should go inside,” you say stoically as the weather that’s put your training on hold for the day deteriorates further.

Jake nods, his eyes still lingering on yours, stalling. He takes a moment to run a hand through his hair, longer these days but no less obnoxiously becoming. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“Not now, Seresin,” you say flatly, starting for the hangar again. You feel the first drop of rain land on your forehead.

“Y/N,” he says.

You turn to see him standing there defeatedly, watching you with a miserable expression. You can tell that he’s still hurting and, despite utterly hating his guts, it isn’t easy to see him in pain. The year of distance has tempered your loathing, much to your dismay, and now you find yourself almost feeling sorry for the man. Almost. “Was there something else?” you ask, trying to keep your breathing steady as you meet his gaze.

He gives you a small smile. “Just that, it’s good to see you.”

You exhale sharply as his words send a jolt through your body. “It’s starting to rain,” you state, wavering on the spot while Jake stands perfectly still. Further down the flightline, the maintenance crews are retreating after having secured the last of the equipment before the storm.

Jake takes a step forward while you focus on remaining upright against the gusts of wind. But his growing proximity isn’t helping you feel steady on your feet.

You let him come right up to you before finally taking a step back. “I’m not getting caught out in this storm,” you say, retreating.

Jake glances up at the skies as though he’s welcoming the impending shower. “It’s just a bit of water,” he says as the rain starts coming down harder. “It’ll be over soon enough.”

But he knows as well as you do that you aren’t one to wait around, hoping that the storm will pass. You don’t have that kind of patience. “I can be civil,” you call, walking backward as the downpour intensifies.

Jake watches you through the heavy rain pelting the tarmac. You try to catch your breath as it washes over your face and trickles past the collar of your flight suit, soaking your undershirt. “Me too,” he responds.

You flex your hands, curling them into fists as your pace slows to a halt when you see that Jake isn’t budging. When he finally takes a step forward, you sigh, trying to summon the hatred you once felt toward him. Unfortunately, all you can muster is despair.

Jake is moving slowly, as though he’s half-expecting you to run, but the truth is, you can’t move a muscle because you’re entranced. It’s ridiculous how attractive he looks with rainwater dripping from his soaking hair. He approaches cautiously, his eyes meeting yours as he presses his lips together solemnly. “I let you down,” he says, his eyebrows converging as he frowns. “And I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I know that. I’m not expecting it.”

You clench your teeth to keep your mouth from trembling as your eyes well up. Finally, the pouring rain exhibits an advantage – masking your falling tears.

“But I need you to know that I am sorry,” he continues, his eyes searching your face. “I’m an idiot for ever letting you go.”

You lower your gaze, blinking through the water – whether it’s tears or rain is irrelevant at this point. Jake’s hands come up and he places them on your arms, so gently that you wouldn’t feel them if you weren’t watching them in action. You let out a shaky sigh as he takes another step forward and, when he presses his lips to the top of your head, you squeeze your eyes shut.

“God, I missed you,” he breathes as his mouth moves to your forehead.

You shake your head, lifting your face to grace him with a reproachful look. You’ve spent an entire year getting over him. Twelve months coping with the pain of losing your best friend. Three hundred and sixty-five days adjusting to his absence. And he has the nerve to tell you that he’s missed you? “Come on, Jake,” you say, not quite able to suppress the hint of malice in your tone. “Doesn’t look like this rain is going to be letting up anytime soon.”

Jake studies your face. “One day, maybe.”

You scoff. “Meanwhile, it’s getting uncomfortable.”

Jake smiles sadly. “I don’t mind it,” he says. “As long as I’m with you.”

You take a step back. “You’re not.”

“I know.”

You let out another frustrated sigh but you can’t seem to hold it together any longer. Dropping your helmet into the puddle at your feet, you break down in tears.

Immediately, Jake closes the gap between the two of you and takes your face in his hands, his eyes flitting between yours urgently despite the wall of rain between you. “Please don’t,” he begs, his face contorted as he tries to hold back tears of his own. “Please.” He rests his forehead over yours.

You push at him and back away. “Then stop!” you yell, your words barely audible over the pouring rain. “Stop making me hurt!”

Jake bows his head, running a hand over his face as his shoulders start to shake. When he glances up at you, his eyes are red and shining. “I can’t stop, Y/N,” he croaks, his voice breaking when he says your name. “I love you.”

You roll your eyes and let out a spiteful laugh but, when Jake steps forward again, cupping his hands around your cheeks, you bite into your bottom lip, falling silent.

“You might not need me anymore,” he says, “but I still need you. And I know that’s selfish, and I know that it’s never gonna happen, but I’m not gonna stand here and pretend to be okay. I’m not okay.”

You watch him solemnly, trying to subdue the trembling of your body. Whether it’s the rain or his words causing you to vibrate uncontrollably is anybody’s guess.

“I’m never getting over you,” he whispers, his lips hovering just over your mouth.

It’s taking all of your strength to hold back a sob; to keep from falling into his arms and letting him shelter you from the rain. Jake has always been an expert at testing your self-control. “We should go,” you mutter. “Before this storm gets any worse.”

Jake sighs over your lips. “It’s just rain, baby,” he whispers. “It’s always gonna pass.”

You close your eyes, feeling yourself submitting to his pull. “It’s getting cold,” you counter.

“I can warm you,” he breathes.

And suddenly, you’re letting out a whimper and grabbing a hold of his flight suit and drawing him impossibly close. At the same time, Jake lifts your face, finally locking his lips with yours. His kiss is so needy, so fevered that it’s making your head spin. His hands leave your face as he wraps his arms around your neck, moving further into you as your fingers clasp behind his back, squeezing him against your body.

You aren’t thinking about the past when his tongue is pushing urgently against your own. You aren’t thinking about the future when your palms travel up his chest, slipping up the wet skin of his neck until your hands are on his face, your fingers stroking the stubble on his jawline. The storm is far from over but perhaps you’ve got what it takes to ride it out.

Jake clutches your waist as he layers your mouth with kiss after kiss. “Oh, baby,” he mutters apologetically. “Baby, I swear I never meant to see you again.”

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[i-cant-sing]

Hey snow I don't know the difference between an ask or a request but yesterday I had my second seizure and was wondering how yanderes from any of your Aus would react to us having a seizure right in front of them like a grand mal seizure if that's ok (I've been stalking you for a while and remember that request for an epilepsy reader!!)

I REMEMBER MAKING THAT POST BUT FORGOT BECAUSE I COULDNT CHOOSE A CHARACTER😭😭 I still cant, but imma go with yandere Surgeon dad Dabi because u can't go wrong with Dabi (plus lawyer Hawks)

Anyways, imagine that after the whole Keigo and Dabi calling CPS on reader's parents and having them arrested, with Keigo pretending to help reader's mom by taking her case pro bono but is actually framing her to be an unstable and unfit mom so that Keigo and Dabi can officially adopt you. Meanwhile, reader is pulling her hair out because her innocent mom is in jail and she's living with practically two strangers whose kindness apparently knows no bounds but there's still a gut feeling that is telling her to leave these guys as soon as possible but with no money and no contacts, she can't bail her mom out unless it's Keigo and his firm who helps her out and sure hes telling her to not worry and focus on school or whatever, but reader can't not worry because everytime she asks about her mother, things only seem to be getting worse for her case so now she is skipping school and lying to Keigo and Dabi about her whereabouts so that she can spend time by herself to work on her mom's case... she just needs one- one evidence to prove her innocence.

Now I imagine that for a teen who's just about to enter into adulthood and can already feel all the weight of responsibilities, she's absolutely stressed af and idk how or what triggers it, maybe she hit her head/was beaten by someone, maybe she forgot to take her meds, maybe she took too much caffeine and has been missing out on sleep for too long, but the seizures occurred... that too at the worst possible time.

Keigo and Dabi had noticed that something was up with you, you looked far too miserable and always had dark circles under your eyes, and when Keigo decided to pick you up early from school one day for a quick lunch with him and Dabi, he was surprised that you had been skipping school for many days. Later that day, when you finally returned home, they decided to confront you.

"So, how was your day?" Keigo approached the gentle approach. You shrugged, just playing with the food on your plate. "Fine."

Keigo looked at Dabi, who was practically watching you like a hawk, gaze piercing as he analysed every movement, every breath you took. He was clearly pissed; Keigo recalled his reaction when he told Dabi about how you've been skipping school for some time. Dabi was ready to send Amber Alert on your ass (he and Keigo both have contacts at the police station) but Keigo was able to calm him down, knowing well that Dabi wasnt truly mad at you, he was just worried. Concerned that you may be hurt, and although both of them care about you, Dabi is a very overprotective type of dad. And since Dabi struggle to show vulnerability, he usually masks it with anger.

"Yeah? School giving you a tough time, hm?" Keigo asked softly, ready to see if you'd lie or come clean. You paused, finally looking up from your plate.

"No... school's fine." You placed your fork down, pushing your seat back. "Can I be excused? I have a test to prepare for-"

"No." Dabi said harshly, and Keigo moved his hand to hold Dabi's, but the latter pulled it away.

You looked at them confused, more so at Dabi's tone. "Um, what?"

"Honey-" Keigo tried one more attempt at gently approaching you, but Dabi had other plans.

"You're lying." He stated, throwing his utensils on the plate. "We know youre lying. Wanna come clean now?" He asked with his arms crossed across his chest.

Your eyes widened slightly, but you composed yourself. He couldn't- they couldn't possibly know?

You cleared your throat. "I don't know what you're talking about. Now, may I be excused? I need to study-" you started standing up, hoping to leave this interrogation as quickly as possible.

"Sit down!" Dabi yelled, and you immediately sat down. "You've been lying to us! How long did you think you'd get away with it? Did you really think we wouldn't know you've been skipping school?!"

"I- I don't know-" you tried to lie again but Dabi slammed his hands on the dinner table, making you and Keigo jump.

"I swear to god- if you say you don't know one more fucking time-" Keigo sprang up and held Dabi's arm, squeezing it to tell him to calm down.

Dabi pulled his arm away from Keigo, and wagged his finger at you. "One chance- you have one chance to explain. And you better not lie this time."

Realising you had no chance to avoid this, you confessed that you had been skipping school to work on your mom's case, looking for evidence, asking around your alcoholic dad's addicted friends to tell the jury that your father was abusive to your mom both physically and emotionally, basically you were looking for anything that would help prove your mother's innocence.

So... you went back to your old house, the one in the "bad neighbourhood" and even met your dad's even worse friends, endangering yourself.

"Why didn't you just come to us? We would have helped." Keigo asked, brows raising in concern.

You nodded. "I know but I didn't want to- you're doing what you can for my mom, and I just needed to do something. I cant just sit here while she rots in her cell because of my mistake!" You looked at Dabi. "And I found something that could help her! Look, if you just- if you just come to the court and tell them that my injuries were because of some medical condition or some accident, they could potentially throw out the whole case!"

Dabi narrowed his eyes at you. "And your mom would be free."

"Yeah!"

"And your father would be free too."

You nodded. "I mean, yeah. If there isn't a case, there's. no reason for him to stay in jail."

"Have you completely lost it?! Do you hear yourself?!!" Dabi yelled, pushing away Keigo who was pulling him away from you. "No! She needs to hear this!" He looked back at you. "I dont know whether you've hit your head or if you inhaled something when you met your father's druggie friends, but suggesting to free that piece of shit, TUB OF LARD, WASTE OF SPACE, HUMAN EXCREMENT just so that you can bail schizophrenic mommy out is fucking INSANE!"

Your mouth dropped open as tears welled up in your eyes, your breathing getting shallower as Dabi's words echoed in your head.

"Dabi, stop-" Keigo started, getting in the middle of you two, but it didn't stop Dabi from yelling awful things.

"All she's done by lying to us is endanger herself! Look at her, she's not sleeping, she not eating! And all we wanted was to take care of her! But all she wants is her mentally sick mother, who news flash-! Is still not a good fucking human being! She may have been abused by her husband to become how she is, but she had plenty of time before to leave him and run away with Y/n!" And this time, Dabi looked over from Keigo's shoulder and directly at you. "And I'm not making this up, this is what the psychiatrist said in the court after she had examined your mother! She's just as much to blame as your father, Y/n! They're both shitty-!" He stopped when you broke into a sob, making Keigo turn around as well.

"Y/n, honey-" the blonde came closer, only for you to fall down to your knees as you clutched your head with your hands, eyes squeezing shut. Your breathing became shallower and your body began to slowly shake.

And Dabi instantly knew something was wrong. This was not- this is not some normal reaction to an awful reality check.

"Y/n?" Keigo called softly, pulling your hands away from your head, as you finally snapped open your eyes and they held all the dread in the world.

Dabi realised it before it actually happened.

"She's seizing!"

Your eyes rolled back and your body began convulsing violently, your body falling back, but Dabi rushed forward to catch you before you could hit your head.

"Keigo, grab a pillow!" He ordered as he glanced at the clock and began timing your seizure. Keigo grabbed a pillow and as Dabi lifted your head, he slid it underneath to cushion your head.

Dabi then turned your body to the side, looking over your body going through alternating tonic clonic stages. Your limbs would violently jerk first, your eyes blinking rapidly before falling into the next stage where your entire body would stiffen and your back arches at an unusual angle, your body losing control of your muscles and bowel incontinence follows.

Keigo could only watch in horror as your body went through painful movements and you urinated yourself unconsciously.

"Dabi-" the dread in his voice wasn't missed by Dabi, but the doctor only told him to calm down and wait as he kept looking between you and the clock.

4 minutes. For 4 minutes, you convulsed.

Dabi had already narrowed down the causes for your seizure, as you never had a history of epilepsy, and now you had one episode probably because of all the stress you've been under, coupled with lack of sleep and food and excessive intake of caffeine, making him feel awful for yelling at you instead of-

"Dabi." Keigo called, nodding his head at you.

You slowly opened your eyes, your vision still blurry but you could make out Dabi and Keigo's faces.

From all prolonged contractions, your muscles were now fatigued and you felt extremely tired and confused.

"W-what happened?" You asked, not realising that you were on the floor or that you had wet yourself.

Dabi swallowed thickly, pushing all his concern down. "You- you had a seizure."

"I did?"

"Yes. But you don't need to worry, I'll take care of it. You must be feeling tired, hm?"

You closed your eyes and hummed. You did feel tired.

"Its okay, you go to sleep, then. I'll be here when you wake up, okay?" You only hummed as Dabi leaned down to kiss your sweaty forehead, while Keigo took off his jacket and wrapped it covered you with it.

As you fell into a deep slumber, Dabi collected you in his arms and nodded at Keigo to take the car out. They were gonna take you to the hospital, just to confirm his diagnosis and make sure that you don't actually have epilepsy. And if you do, then get you all the proper medication and treatment for it.

Your cheek rested against Dabi's chest, his heart melting as you nuzzled closer. Keigo broke several traffic laws as he sped through the streets, but he only had to take one look at you to remember how utterly helpless he felt while you seized. To do nothing but wait... until that 5 minute mark hit and realise the danger you were in.

One thing is for sure-

Dabi and Keigo are never letting you out of their sights ever again. Ever.

[mochinomnoms]

The shrimpy smut was *chef's kiss* truly wonderful. Considering it was your first time writing a full nsfw it's even more impressive tbh. Let me just JWOWJXUWJJSK quickly about it.

Now I can finally place the question!

As we all know, there are many breeding thoughts in here, that are truly delicious. I was wondering though, assuming that everyone from the main cast gets their own equivalent of shrimpy - who would be a firm believer of no children policy®, and would there actually be such person?

Ngl, I'm on the "NOOOO" side of the barricade, and while I do like children and taking care of them from time to time I definitely don't want any of my own. I myself have a few headcanons about it that make more or less sense (some are biased af) and I wanted to know your thoughts.

Have a nice day, I love your brain 🩷

🦭

Aaaaah thank you!!! I'm glad it's been well-received, I just love hearing people's thoughts on it!

As for your question, for sure absolutely Leona. He's stated multiple times that he doesn't like children, and seems to tolerate his nephew at best (though that could be for other reasons, not just because he doesn't like kids). Even if he was just saying he didn't like kids and actually did like them, I still don't see him wanting any. He already knows that he will always be the second son, the second prince. He's grown up being treated as a danger, as a nuisance, as a back-up heir to the Kingscholar family (until Cheka came alone, now he has no purpose). And while he might be able to learn to cope and accept it with therapy and maybe someone on one time with his brother, I don't think he would want to bring a child into that life. If he's treated so shitty, how would his own kids fare? Nah, he's fine not having children.

I also think Jamil is pretty firm on it too, unless is circumstances at home change. He's been forced to pretend to be second best to Kalim, to be a servant, to be his "best friend", but to never be too good at anything, to be too outspoken, to just go with Kalim's whims. His family has been servant to the Asims for generations, so any of his future kids would be as well. Look at how he fared growing up, why would he want to make someone else miserable? And could he be like his parents, telling their son to suck it up and cater to someone else just because they're rich and powerful? I don't think he could, and he knows that too. It's best to not make someone else as miserable as he is. Maybe, in the case that he gets his freedom or Kalim makes him an equal once he's head, he might think about it.

[phoenixcatch7]

Random mdzs headcanons that I don't think interfere with canon:

Though sufficient cultivation cures this, lwj is short sighted. (this is because of that mxtx interview but if he actually was short sighted he would be wearing glasses in canon.) Similarly, so would lxc and lqr is already halfway there lol.

Wen chao is barely older than the main cast. Like a couple years at most. This is is because it took until his poor wife (who shall forever be unknown, rip) being mentioned for me to go 'that's an ADULT?!'. Everything from the voice to the face to the short sighted immaturity and the lying to adults in charge, there's no way this guy is anything over 20.

Lqr isn't a very strong cultivator for all his technical skill is impeccable. I think this because I thought he was young grandparent age when he's the uncle!! It's too much stress! Major props.

He's also aromantic! We know that nothing will stop a lan in love, much to their detriment, but not only does lqr seem to regard the lot of them as idiots for finding the absolute worst choices ever but I feel if he'd also loved and lost it would have been... Relevant.

Jfm was gay, and his unrequited love was wcz. Alternate sexualities (and queerness as a whole) is one of those things that's still so dangerous in many countries, and I guess ancient fantasy China is one of them! Poor mxy. Anyway that plus arranged marriages plus jfm being an only child (to my knowledge) and needing heirs... Yeah I feel like that's one of those things that happens. It's common all throughout history, forcing people into het relationships for any number of reasons or risk social (or even physical) death. I could so easily trace how that would have affected him through the courtship, marriage, his parents, him genuinely trying to love yzy and maybe deep inside knowing it was doomed to fail, her intelligence picking up on that and trying to figure out how she was unworthy, her feeling hurt and disrespected, getting more and more paranoid and sensitive as it wears on, her being so close to the right answer but correcting her would expose him. Him just trying to settle for mutual respect and teamwork and her never getting what she needs to be fulfilled in life, what she was raised and trained all her life in preparation for. The way he's so unwilling to force his kids to do anything miserable and the way he's so quick to call off the engagement when all he's hearing is disinterest and incompatibility. I could make this a whole post on its own but I fully believe this man lived and died like so many other queer people have in the past - never being able to find out who he truly was, and that he wasn't broken for not being the way he needed to be. Wangxian have an easier time of it, but when there's stories like mxy? People keep their heads down. He raised jc the way he was raised, and he turned out fine. It wasn't their fault he was such a failure of a son.

To cheer things up, I firmly believe that wwx is bisexual af. Just because lwj is his soulmate doesn't mean he's not. Are you an mxtx protag if you're simply, straightforwardly gay? I think not.

Though I do wonder if jc being Banned From Women was 100% an entirely whoopsie daisy accident. Sometimes standards are supposed to be impossible... Now I think about it, the certainty lwj hated wwx, the total lack of any partner, the focus on jl, the constant frustration with wwx's flirting and incomprehension with jyl crushing on jzx... I think the women are the only straight ones in the family, cuz he's sounding the aroace bell! Good for him tbh!!! Break the cycle!!!!

Lsh is the child of either wrh, wc, jgs, or two perfectly lovely normal people who died in war/childbirth. He was 100% a village kid, so thank goodness they all stepped up. I feel like one of the wens would have told wwx his parentage either way, so if he hasn't told anyone else I can't imagine it's great.

Each sect is associated with an element. The wens of course were fire, the nie earth, the lan air, the jin water (koi/carp tower), and the jiang are lightning (given we assume yzy and the jiang territory are compatible (her husband is probably water lol oof)). Years of specialised clan training and select marriages have caused the clan members qi to take on movement (at minimum) matching the respective elements. This is based on the anime, where everyone has nice handy colour coded qi, but the twin jades have the prettiest cloud texture that perfectly matches their crest and wwx has an almost lightning spiky red with just enough smoulder to make he sure he's a fire type. This also!!! Matches their fighting styles, have you noticed?? Idk if they did it on purpose or not but it's so cool!!! Wwx and jc are constantly moving, redirection, bounce and flip around; lwj and lxc are very twirly, lots of attacks from above, lwj often lets his sword fly mid battle, and of course the music! And the nie are very... Brick wall lol. I'd say NHS is air? Maybe? Water?

This one's a bit silly, but I like to imagine csr and bsr are mother and daughter from a distant land where people use their surnames last (gasp) and it wasn't really important to bsr cuz secluded mountain but they did figure it was going to be a problem a touch late. 'oh but phoenix they have different spellings in Chinese' csr got asked 'oh so like the immortal?' panicked and changed it on the spot. Her husband's nicknames all use her 'surname', he's the only one who knows about the mix up.

Spinning in the air helps you change an attack or helps you float. Yes this is based entirely on the anime (donghua?) where even the most serious of characters (lwj) do three full rotations before landing a big attack midair. It might be so he has time to get his guqin out lmao.

Jc is left handed, I'm pretty sure that's anime canon at least. Any good swordsman (or dual sword whip wielder!) can do a little ambidexterousness tho.

Wwx can do decent guqin cuz he's the gentleman prodigy of the arts but he probably whittled a dozen dizi out of roadside bamboo on long journeys to entertain himself which is why chengching was such a fine tuned spiritual tool.

The jiangs were a great sect lead by good people in an ehhhh family. Individually they're all actually decent people but they bring out the worst in each other even as it keeps them all in check.

I firmly believe that yzy was holding back a LOT when made to whip wwx in front of the wen wench. That's a whole entire spiritual weapon and she was going at it wildly in a barely stable environment. Compare that to lwj who took the discipline whip not too many more times (if any) and was rendered bed bound if not house bound for years recovering (and grieving) and over a decade later is still a mass of scar tissue. And that was an orderly and structured punishment using materials designed to NOT kill the victim, not a whole entire LIGHTNING MURDER WEAPON. Wwx was back on his feet minutes later sword fighting, rowing, carrying jc on his back... Lwj is the more realistic result, real whips can be lethal, and very, very dangerous. They are excruciatingly painful and if you make a mistake they can easily flay skin and muscle to crack bone. You're not supposed to strike the same patch of skin twice. Yeah wwx and his stupid pain tolerance but I truly believe him and yzy were in full accord in that moment with the roles they had to play (and jc hated every second). She could at least have apologised... in the middle of heated battle for her home and life though....

Lwjs eyes are gold and sunset and stars' YES ALSO BUT I looked at them and my immediate reaction was 'that's a bird of prey'. They're LITERALLY falcon eyes, they're identical, and I've never once seen that comparison :(. He's already piercing/intense/pinning/scouring, (and his anime eyeliner and dark lashes look like the markings) he's so perfect for the metaphor. Make it that wwx is the rabbit prey, come on.

Why is wwx sun coded but moon aesthetic and lwj moon coded but sun aesthetic like how's that fair why does it always happen.

Stop blaming wwx for Suiban he admits he came up with a zillion good names and it was jfm who didn't pick any and named it as a joke. Ngl if that was my trusted person who went and did that I would have been gutted but hey wwx thrives. I do feel like jfm naming the sword that wwx sacrifices to save jc is grounds for some angst at the very least.

Lxc was definitely in some situation with the other two because he does read as a parallel to lwj. Their romantic lives are basically inversions of each other, you could hold a graph up to a mirror. It's just that lwj was so deeply lucky to get wwx back, and he fell in love with someone true to himself. Lxc just got used and left with the ashes, no matter how much true love was on either side. Wwx chose family, kindness and community with poverty and jgy chose greed and power and wealth for total isolation. It was NHS that inverted their fates, but either brother's love could only come at the cost of the other. Poor qiren...

All those fancy huge ribbons in everyone's hair (again it's the anime donghua) are special and ridiculously sturdy ribbons given by the parents they wear in varying styles to tie it all up and as they grow up so they don't trip on it. This is a silly headcanon but I love it cuz those ribbons are stupid long and literally everyone has it. Maybe it's the mdzs equivalent of the guan ceremony?

Wwx has for sure done cannibalism.

Ooh painful headcanon time - his parents died in yiling right? And all corpses get tossed into the mounds for centuries, right? Nonzero chance wwx's parents bodies broke his fall.

Lwj gets wwx a mule for a birthday/festival cuz those guys are basically the perfect mounts humans are ever going to get, they're just v rare and infertile. They're smart and brave as donkeys and fast and strong like the horse, resulting in an animal that is down for mounted parkour with the right training. And then lwj can ride a horse alongside wwx when they go travelling ^^. Idk I just think it'd be super cute.

Wwx only comes up with good names when he's doing real bad. Names when he's doing good: Suiban, li'l apple, rulan (after his bf). Names when he's doing bad: chengqing, yin iron tally/stygian tiger amulet, compass of evil.

[lgbthequarry]

One lil headcanon of mine is the idea that Jacob and Emma realize they're both gay (or not straight) and become Suffering besties.

Like camp kicks off and Jacob's all 'Macho Man' and Emma indulges his antics and they start hooking up. And at first its pretty casual; they're still practically strangers so it takes a bit to get to know each other and the other counselors.

But then thats when shit starts getting complicated bcuz Jacob and Nick start gettin along like best mates (Jacob doesn't know why he gets all giddy when Nick calls him that), and Emma and Abi grow nearly inseparable (Emma keeps telling herself that the reason she likes Abi's attention so much is bcuz she doesn't have her fanbase atm).

And Jacob and Emma continue hooking up but... it's kinda 'meh' now. Like they enjoy each others company but now its like theres this pressure between them, like a soda can about to burst. Half the time they're together Jacob forgets he's supposed to be sweet talking this girl and not talking about the time he and Nick jumped off the tree walk into the river on a dare. And the other half of the time Emma spends it ditching the guy she's supposedly 'dating' to hang out with Abi and posing for her portraits.

The more their feelings for their friends grow tho, the worse their relationship gets. Bcuz Jacob has a serious case of Internalized Homophobia (he can't be gay, he's cool with others being gay, but theres no way he can be gay), and Emma's locked in a spiral of "she's just a bestfriend, you don't have any of those, stop being weird, you're gonna fuck it up". And soon the only reason they're still together is to play "House" and be the happy couple like everyone thinks they are (talk bout toxic af).

So Jacob's malcontent and broody. And Emma's miserable and bitchy. They end up bickering and occasionally fighting with each other more than they can hold decent conversations together. And whats worse is the others are starting to pick up on it too.

It all comes to a head one night when they've snuck out to the boathouse to meet up. Neither of them even want to be there and start arguing, but then its an all out blow up between them as they lash out at each other with their unacknowledged frustrations. They're both trying to blame the other (they're both to blame really) and ignoring the fact of why they're really not working out. Finally they collapse down on the dock and cry together in silence.

Emma breaks the quiet after a while, wondering if they're both just too fucked up to make it work. And Jacob, for all his dumbassery, hears the self depreciation in her words and its like his anger and wallowing just disappears. Cuz it kinda just clicks for him that no, they're good, just not good together. He tells Emma that and offers that they be just friends. And Emma nearly sags with relief as she agrees, saying she likes him but its nothing more than that. And its like the pressure to keep up the act just completely fizzes out and they're left sitting together finally at peace.

And maybe its the relief or the weightlessness of it all, but after a pause Emma confesses that she thinks she might be a lesbian (and Jacob being Jacob, jokingly "was i really that bad?" to which Emma smacks him over the head repeatedly). But its okay bcuz in the next instant Jacob's confessing that he's maybe coming to terms with being gay too. And theres more crying bcuz fuck is that scary, but its okay bcuz they're in the same lifeboat and they've got each others backs now. (Jacob and Emma being besties is my favorite flavor!)

Emma guesses Jacob has a crush on Nick cuz hes so obvious and Jacob retaliates saying she's got hearteyes every time she so much as thinks about Abi. (Emma pushes Jacob off the dock for it). Emma encourages Jacob to try his hand at flirting with Nick, and he only agrees after he makes her agree to pursue Abi.

Which is a great plan... until they watch Nick and Abi walk into the lodge the next day holding hands and very obviously in love. (Emma's face crumples and it takes all her acting skills to fake a smile as Abi sends a wave her way. And Jacob has to get up and leave, not even touching his lunch, cuz stupid stupid stupid boy, finally when something feels right in his life its gone to shit, what did he expect).

And they get to be miserable angsty teens together while Abi and Nick seemingly flaunt their new relationship around the camp. Like forget Emma/Jacob Toxic Relationship woes. Gimme Emma/Jacob Gay Suffering Solidarity.

(Sidenote: Nick and Abi are fake dating cuz they're bisexual disasters and in love with their bestfriends. Dylan suggested the whole charade in order to make Jacob and Emma jealous. It takes like two weeks, lots of pining, and Kaitlyn intervening bcuz she can't take the fucking stupidity of it all anymore).

[crackedramblings]

Notes from 6.4.24

I dreamed about Dolly Parton. In the dream, I was involved with a group that she was a panel member on. I remember someone was trying to get her involvement to write a new song, or something like that. I felt it was disrespectful to her artistic process, but she was gracious about it and said she'd be happy to help.

IRL, hope springs eternal. I hope CA's dream is representative of the truth. There are so many weird conspiracy theories going around about the end times (I read too many conspiracy forums I guess). But that's been true since I was a kid and we're all still here. If I heard about the three days of darkness again, IDK. I might scream. Now they think the eclipse will trigger some major earthquakes over here. Which, may in fact happen because it's been 200 years or whatever since a big one where I live and we're due. Sometimes I wonder if this focus on waiting for the end is keeping me from actually living. But then I remember what my life was like when I was 'living' (aka working a job) and I like waiting better.

Yesterday was all over the place emotionally. In the morning I was irritated af because I agreed to go grocery shopping with hubs. I did NOT want to go. But I said I would, so whatever. We got it over with. In the afternoon/evening I was starting to feel some energy; I started thinking "I could start over if I wanted. Move to a new state. Work a crap job and earn enough to pay to rent a room somewhere." But then I remembered the crap jobs I've worked and how miserable I was. I'm just one big blob of moods and emotions anymore. I've cried randomly based on made up scenarios in my head several times lately.

I felt some energy probing me last night. Not sure what that was about. It was prickly and slightly uncomfortable. I felt it in my back especially. And whoever/whatever it was, or even if it was just me, I told it to stop being irritating. But I didn't have any fear.

I don't even really want to type this out, in case I jinx it, but I will. I've started seeing things changing. I don't mean I'm seeing glitches in the matrix. But in the attitudes and viewpoints of certain people I follow, certain forums I read. It seems as if there's a shift underway toward points of view that are more aligned with how I feel. It doesn't really even matter whether I'm right or wrong, or even what I believe or don't. It's just significant (to me) that I feel my environment is starting to reflect back to me in certain ways the opinions I hold, which are fairly niche. Maybe it's something, maybe it's nothing. We'll see.

[gracilicorpus]

It’s so funny to me that you can go through years of TRAUMA , but as soon as you gain the weight back people never ask you how you feel again or how your days been or like care for you? I understand why people get sickly thin like that’s the only way you get attention and people caring for you.

I’m living alone and I’m going to start my weight lost journey , I’m not even fat or anything, I’m very strong actually cuz I have been hitting the gym for a while and I look very good ngl, like I look “womengly” lol

But I really really badly want to model like realllly bad , that’s been my dream for the longest and I’m really striving for it this time, if I want to model I have to lose like 20 pounds, I have curves so they gotta go, I’m calling it now(yea I know I’m delusional) but my goal is that next winter I will be modeling for diesel( yes yes I know I’m delusional lool, let me be), but that is my goal!!

Living alone has caused me to purge a lot, I binge and purge but that’s to expensive and I have to stop doing that. I’m literally so fkn broke lool #yeycollagelife, but I’m gonna aim to eat 1000 kcal and do as minimum exercise as possible, if I want to eat more I’ll have to walk 10 000 steps, so yeah that my goal and I will make it by may!

I was thinking to seek therapy because living alone has really showed me how fkn fkd in the head I am, like I’m sooo weird man💀 living alone is so scary because I can just do the bad things I have always been wanting to do at home, like I can just openly purge and stuff without locking the wc door or turning the shower on, but I’m so lonely man, I genuinely hate myself and I just want to like me okey and normal, I really thought my problems would go away after I moved but they just in my head, it’s even worse now because I can’t even get my sadness or madness out anywhere, I’m constantly waking around with a lump in my throat, I miss living with my friend because then my eating became so natural, now it’s just rly bad again and I’m either eating to little or binging, it’s just a rlly big problem and I feel so disgusting and ugly and I JUST DONT UNDERSTAND ANYTHING ! Like what am I even doing like I’m FKN TRYING why can’t I just be fkn better when I’m actually fkn trying

No one will obv read this but this is me just ranting if someone did lol, this embarrassing af lol, no but ehmmm the only guy I ever liked I decided to push away ! Yeeey like he made me better , I wanted to be better for him and then I was like “nah he ain’t all that” and now I miss him and regret it:) Yey love my decisions

Literally want to just end it all, like I’m such a bad bad bad person. I was thinking maybe overdosing , but it just so mean to my parents, I don’t know what my dad would do like would he be mad at me or like would he become depressed again ? My mom would she like cry everyday forever or would she be strong for her other children. My sister? Would she be happier without me? It feels like she would, by brother they are still young they would probably forget me ina couple years, but like my best friend maaaan I miss living with her , I do think I love her more than she loves me but I’m okey with that because she’s my safe person, when thing were shit home I had her always and she had me, like what would she do? Would she maybe have a picture of me as her lock screen ? Or maybe listen to a song on repeat that she knows I liked ? Honestly I’m really trying for my family and my best friend but I’m just wondering if it’s normal to be this miserable so long, like I’m grown soon and I’m still so out of it, never been in a relationship, never have I done anything out of my comfort zone, I’m just so like I’m just filling up space for no reason, did God make a mistake putting me here, it feels like that,

But yeah mm I’ll update this page, I have no one to talk to so I’ll just post my thought here sometimes :) yeah

[mountswhore]

Can you please write one with mase where you two get into a fight and he Donny want to go to sleep before solving this

𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥— mason mount

summary: you and mason had been experiencing some tension recently, ending in an argument. but he refused to sleep on it.

notes: requests are CLOSED.

You and Mason hadn't been together long. Almost a year, so you were still getting used to each other's schedules and what it was like to be with the other. However, recently, tensions were high between the two of you. You found yourself getting annoyed at Mason's outbursts of attitude after a bad day, in turn, getting you riled up.

You decided to spend a few days back at your apartment to get out of each other's hair, but Mason was confused after coming home to an empty house after training on Friday night.

"Where are you?" He asked into the phone, after you'd picked it up between cooking dinner and tidying your kitchen.

You'd thrown the dirty knives and wooden spoon into your sink, sighing heavily into the phone. "Cooking dinner, at home. Why?"

"You're usually here for the weekend."

Mason could either take it one of two ways:

1) He could either be really moody about it and take it the wrong way.

2) Or he could be understanding and see where you're coming from.

"I just thought to get out of your hair for a few days, as we seem to be arguing a lot recently." You mentioned, trying to make it sound casual but failing miserably once you hesitated over the last few words.

There was a silence over the phone, and Mason had clearly chosen option 1.

"Have we? I don't feel that way. Just say you want to be away from me," Mason sneered, and you knew he didn't mean it. He had a shit day, and all he wanted was to come home to you. But instead he'd come home to a cold, dark house.

"What are you on about, Mase? Every night this week, we have argued. I don't want to be away from you, it's just to clear the air between us." You tried to reason with him, but that was like talking to a brick wall sometimes. The pair of you sighed, and this was the fifth night in a row you'd be arguing — only difference was, it was over the phone.

"Why are you throwing this 'argument' thing in my face? As if I'm the only one who started the arguments."

"Here we go again," you mumbled. And you knew it wasn't needed, but you weren't going to hold yourself back if Mason was going to take it completely the wrong way.

"And you wonder why we argue," Mason shouted, and you took the phone away from your ear, still able to hear him, "when you have stupid remarks like that."

Your dinner was ready, you were hungry, tired from work, and Mason wasn't someone you wanted to be arguing with right now. Your plans to have a relaxed evening were still on the table, despite your moody boyfriend on the phone.

"Look, Mase," you huffed, tired of this barely conversation, "let's just sleep on it. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Without letting him talk, you ended the call. You were adamant on enjoying your dinner, and getting into a nice, cozy bed.

But Mason was sat on his couch, head in his hands and breathing heavily. He just wanted a night in with you, he had a game on Sunday and planned to use his day off tomorrow to be completely with you. Whilst that was still in reach, it didn't seem likely due to the argument you'd just had. Mason was always told never to sleep on an argument, as you aren't guaranteed another day. He remembered that forever, and needed it in this very moment.

He decided to give you some time to cool down and relax, which meant he could make dinner of his own and get comfy in bed before texting you.

Can we please talk about this? He texted, throwing his phone onto, what would be, your pillow.

I said I'd see you tomorrow, you replied, but he wasn't having any of it.

I can't just sleep on an argument. I want to fix this with you, please. He texted you back, holding onto your phone as you had read it almost immediately. The three dots had disappeared after a minute, and Mason's heart deflated. Until your called ID appeared, and he was faced with a picture of the two of you last summer, having a picnic with silly hats on.

"Hey, you." You spoke, shuffling to your bedroom with a smile on your face. And Mason could practically hear your smile.

"Hey," he replied sheepishly, snuggling further into his sheets as he tried to hide a smile of his own.

"I don't mean anything malicious by staying at mine, I still love you, I still want to be with you," you began, "I just knew we'd been in each other's company for far too long, and we're still getting used to being in a relationship. It's normal."

"Thank you," Mason sighed, he didn't know how much he needed to hear that, "and I'm sorry for blowing up at you on the phone earlier, I have had a horrible day. And I know that's no excuse."

"I forgive you." And this was why the two of you were so good for each other, you resolved things in a healthy way and you were back to being joint at the hip.

"What do you say to getting in your car and driving in my general direction?" His tone was curious, and you couldn't help but giggle.

"I'm in my pyjamas, so you'll have to warm me up when I get there."

[aphrodite-made-me-write-it]

Take My Breath Away

(A/N) so that first fic did pretty okay! here’s another natasha fic bc i have literally dozens just sitting around in my google docs bc i really didn’t think i’d ever post them anywhere but now i have this beautiful garbage can here and all you lovely little trash pandas! thank you so much for all the comments they were so sweet!! while i finish up my Long AF Diana Fic, I’ll try to post some shorter imagines i have shoved aside somewhere. Might open to requests soon, but no promises bc that diana fic really do be taking up all my hyperfixation... anyway, thank you guys sm i hope you like this one even if it’s not as intense as my 5+1 fic!

Rating: T (bc I swear a lot and cannot help myself)

Warnings: The overdone “I’m Sick And Refuse To Admit It” trope; pretty much entirely fluff; very little plot; weirdly enough i wrote this before the pandemic hit and i cant help wondering if that was god telling me to stop being a useless lesbian but oh well i left that bitch on read; another reader w fire powers bc i guess i was feelin like burning shit during this particular time

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count: 3,726

Synopsis: Natasha has the flu and to avoid her wrath, the Avengers decide to go on a top secret mission. Unfortunately, either because you’re the newest member of the group or because Natasha always seems to fixate on you, you’re tasked with staying behind and taking care of her. You may have bitten off more than you can chew.

this is my fav gif of her god damm get u a girl whos a cinnamon roll AND a sinnamon roll

“So is there a reason you guys are sneaking out on your missions so late?” You ask Steve, who looks over your shoulder with a shadow of fear and guilt. “And you’re leaving me behind?”

You had coincidentally been training later into the evening than planned. You were just exiting the gym when you saw Wanda and Peter tiptoeing down the hall as if they were a pair of school children trying to sneak into the kitchen for late night snacks. You followed them to the docking bay, where the quinjet was already firing up and ready to leave.

“Not you,” Steve shakes his head, lowering his voice to a whisper. “We’re leaving Natasha. She’s got a cold and refuses to take it easy. Wanda slipped her some NyQuil so we could have a few hours to prep and leave.”

“You’re scared of Natasha with a cold?” You scoff, and his grave expression makes your laughter die down quickly. You frown. “She hates me, Steve. I’ll probably be dead by the time you come back!”

The blonde rolls his eyes, a smile pulling at his lips. “She doesn’t hate you. You’ll be fine.”

“The entirety of the Avengers is running away from her, I really don’t think she’ll go easy on me because I’m new.”

“She’ll go easy on you because, when Nat’s got a cold, she’s miserable.” He places a comforting hand on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Trust me, (Y/N), you’ll be fine. Besides, the place we’re going doesn’t do well with… well, fire.”

“But Carol is going!” You whine and he laughs.

“Carol can’t set an entire building on fire at the drop of a pin. Just stay here and make sure Nat doesn’t get too dramatic.”

You relent, at last, with a defeated sigh and watch the others load onto the jet before leaving into the starry night.

Cowards, you think bitterly to yourself before returning inside.

-

You’re in the kitchen when Natasha slumps against the counter, her already pale skin a sickly pallor. Her nose is red, and you can tell by the way she sniffles that she can’t breathe out of it at all.

You finish fixing yourself a cup of coffee, feeling her tired gaze following you as you do so. 

“Where’s everyone?” She asks, her voice far huskier than usual, and to be honest it’s weirdly hot but you decide to shove that thought deep down.

“Out,” you answer, finally meeting her gaze. Her eyes are watery, and you suddenly feel a pang of guilt at fighting Steve so hard on staying here. She doesn’t seem so bad. Yet. “They snuck away last night. Told me to keep you out of trouble.”

“Cowards,” she starts, then immediately launches into a hard coughing fit. You set aside your mug and quickly get a glass of water. The redhead eyes you skeptically before accepting it, and you suddenly feel like you’re treading on thin ice. “I don’t need a sitter.” She growls after taking a long gulp of the water.

You snort. “Nurse, more like. You look like shit, Romanoff.”

“Fuck you,” Natasha looks longingly at the coffee machine. 

“Mm, not a fan of whatever cooties you’re infected with.” You tease, and to your absolute delight a blush spreads across her cheeks. “But the offer is definitely noted.”

“I hate you,” Natasha croaks, then goes back to chugging the water. 

“Well, hate me or not, I’m taking care of you, so you better get used to it.” You reach across the countertop to feel her forehead, and the action causes the redhead to stiffen so much you fear she’s turned to stone. Sure enough, she’s blazing hot - which, honestly, for you to feel her fever despite your powers, that’s a cause of concern. “Geez, how long have you been sick?”

“I’m not sick,” she sounds incredibly congested, despite her protests, and you let out a series of ‘tsks’. She hasn’t ripped your arm off yet, so that’s definitely a good sign. You retract your hand and hum thoughtfully.

“I’ll go to the drugstore and get you some cold medicine. Maybe some gatorade, too. And orange juice - I mean, unless you want what’s in the fridge?”

Her nose wrinkles. “I’m not drinking that pulp shit. Stark has a one way ticket to Hell for that.”

You snort in agreement. “Fair enough. Any other requests before you’re condemned to quarantine?”

“Quarantine?”

“I’m not catching your germs,” you repeat, to which Natasha rolls her eyes.

“You’d only be so lucky,” she mutters bitterly. 

“I’m gonna go get that medicine. If you aren’t either in the shower or in bed by the time I get back, I will have to use force,” you warn, though it’s a playful enough threat that Natasha almost smiles, before launching into a rather difficult sneezing fit.

Is it weird to find someone’s sneeze cute?

With this, you down your coffee and make for the elevator. You hear Natasha call your name, and pause mid-step.

“Can you, uh, get a new thermometer? Danvers ruined the last one.”

You nod, snorting at the memory of Carol suffering a cold herself and absolutely refusing to not go on missions. It’s hard to argue with someone who can rival even your own fire-based abilities, and, well, she was, technically, a Captain so there’s very little room for argument.

-

When you return, Natasha is not in her room, nor is she in her private shower. Groaning, you scour the Compound for her until, finally, locating her in the gym. She’s punching the hell out of one of the training dummies but she lacks her usual determination; her punches sloppy and her body drenched in sweat.

Look, you’re no doctor, but that cannot be healthy.

Especially with how hard she’s wheezing and stumbling.

You hurry over to her, and quickly realize that she’s shivering. It’s like she’s a goddamn chihuahua, a near-steady vibration rolling through her body when you reach out to grab her arm before she can swing another punch at the training dummy that’s hardly twitched since you’ve entered.

“Got- cold. Needed…” Natasha takes a long swig from her waterbottle. “Warmth.”

“Jesus, you’re going to kill yourself if you keep pulling this shit.” You don’t hide your genuinely worried tone, nor do you hide your irritation. “You aren’t stupid. What the fuck, Romanoff?”

Natasha turns to glare at you, but the effect is lost when she looks so pale and weak. You sigh, trying to keep your tone even as you offer something you don’t think you’ve ever imagined offering Natasha Romanoff.

“I can raise my body temperature. If you wanted to be warm, you could have waited for a literal human space heater.”

Okay, maybe that’s not really an ‘offering’, but it’s in a tone that wouldn’t make her totally weirded out. At least, that’s what you’d like to tell yourself. Thankfully, she seems to understand, and though she appears reluctant, she does step a little closer to you. You try to resist rolling your eyes as your arms snake around her waist, pulling her flush against you. You allow the heat that always boils just below the surface of your skin to manifest slowly, warming up your body as you keep Natasha’s against it.

Natasha once again feels as though she’s become stone, but she slowly relaxes into the awkward hold; her own hands tentatively make their way around your lower back. After another few moments, she hums, and melts into you.

“Wow, that’s nice,” she murmurs, moreso to herself than you. 

You laugh softly. “See? I’m good for something.”

The recollection of your last argument makes her freeze once more, and you’re worried that she’s going to push you away - or worse. She doesn’t, however. Instead, her face falls into the space between your shoulder and neck.

“You’re good for lots’ve things,” she mutters, and you realize that her voice has become quite groggy and sluggish.

“C’mon, you gotta take your medicine before you go back to sleep,” you urge, your tone becoming soft. 

If Natasha notices the unusual tone, she doesn’t comment. She nods into you, and allows you to lead her out of the gym and into the kitchen once more, where you’d placed your bag of goodies.

After encouraging her to take the cold medicine, you put the new thermometer between her plump lips and wait. Her eyelids droop dangerously as she patiently waits, and you’re a little ashamed to say the sight makes your stomach flop pleasantly. 

The digital thermometer beeps, and you have to do a double-take on the number. You have to give Natasha several minutes of encouragement to take a shower before going back to sleep, but to your utter astonishment she does give in - and in just three tries! This, perhaps, is among the most worrying of symptoms.

Once she’s showered and changed into new pajamas, you’re ready to leave her to sleep when her voice, very quiet now, calls out:

“Wait, I need…” Her hesitation causes you to turn around, an eyebrow arching in confusion. “I’m cold,” she finally says, though her tone is a little off. 

You swallow thickly, all thoughts of cooties leaving your mind like they hadn’t been there at all as you move to lay next to her. Truthfully, you aren’t tired at all, but you think that makes this all the more terrifying; you’re just going to lay here, Natasha cuddling with you, for hours while she recovers from a cold-medicine-induced coma? Shit. 

She’s never been this nice to you before. It’s always hard-comments, witty banter - nothing like this. This tenderness - it’s foreign, and you daresay it’s making it impossible to deny your attraction to her.

Still, as guilty as it makes you feel, you cherish this weird moment of softness. Natasha’s body curling against your own, letting you wrap your arms around her and focusing on a steadying warmth for the girl in your arms.

“Thanks,” she whispers, almost inaudibly against your collarbone. Your head is spinning wildly.

Has this always been there, you wonder?

You’ve definitely been attracted to her from the start - that’s undeniable. She’s the Black Widow - one does not simply wear skin-tight bodysuits unless they are confident in their appearance. And, wow, does she deserve that confidence. 

But this is different.

It’s weird. That’s all you can really sum it up to. It’s weird. Natasha curled around you, red-nosed and sniffly, acting like you’re all she needs in this world.

You want to fucking punch every single damn Avenger.

-

The next several days follow much the same pattern; you keep Natasha in bed, drinking plenty of fluids and eating enough of your homemade soup that you’ve just started improvising in ways to keep her entertained. Her fever hasn’t gone down by much, but she’s becoming a little more coherent. She’s admitted to spending a lot of time in the gym before Rogers condemned her to your care, and /that, you suspect, is a primary cause of her condition being so shitty.

And, for once, she’s civil. No snide comments, no crude remarks - nothing. Just… a normal woman, as she would be with the rest of the Avengers. You wonder, briefly, if you’ve somehow earned your place on the team in her eyes simply by taking care of her, but you also aren’t entirely sure why her opinion has changed so abruptly.

Not that you’re complaining.

Natasha and you have been binge-watching shows left and right, and in this time you’ve come to appreciate - and even /enjoy - her presence. Her laugh.

Tonight, you’ve turned to a Russian stew recipe you’d found online; Natasha has turned on some old detective movie, black-and-white, that she’s been claiming to be “The greatest cinematic experience you will ever have in your life.” 

She has said that about most old movies she’s gotten you to watch, and thus far you are unconvinced.

“I just can’t get over the incredibly oppressed homosexuality of these men. Or the way the cinematic industry portrayed any heterosexual couple, ever-” 

To which Natasha would almost always groan dramatically, and the action was so damn adorable that you end up letting her pick another classic film just to see it again.

You definitely hadn’t expected her eyes to fill with tears after the first few spoonfuls.

Your mind immediately runs into overdrive. As another woman, you should probably be better at these things - but, honestly, you’re shit at cheering people up, so you aren’t sure what to do here at all. Cheering up the average gal wasn’t always so difficult, but cheering up Natasha? 

Fucking hell. Might as well be fighting a dragon blindfolded.

“Uh- is it really that bad?” Is the idiotic shit that spews out of your mouth instead of any well-thought-out sentence.

To your relief, she lets out a watery chuckle. “No! It’s- it’s great.” She looks down at it, a rare smile playing at her lips. “It just reminded me of Russia, is all.”

“Oh,” it leaves you in a breathy sort of exhale. There’s a pregnant pause before you ask, “Do you… miss it?”

Her green eyes turn to you with a heated sort of intensity that makes you wary of one of her all-too-familiar outbursts. To your surprise, however, the heat simmers, and she turns back to the stew, taking another spoonful. “Sometimes,” she answers finally, and you begin eating your own bowl of stew.

The movie she’d put on is easy to follow; you watch it in companionable silence, your mind racing on countless tracks. As they seem to often lately, they focus mainly around the woman beside you, and what could possibly be behind her odd behavior.

Is she actually opening up, or is this just another persona? When the others come back, will she return to her almost cruel attitude towards you?

It keeps you awake late into the night, Natasha’s slow breath against your neck hardly soothing as you try to separate your personal feelings from your logical ones. You’re several hours into your brooding when Natasha starts twitching and muttering.

You don’t quite catch what she’s saying, but you assume it’s in Russian - quick and near-silent whispers as her face contorts into expressions of pain and anger. Her arm that’s thrown around your stomach suddenly constricts its hold, and you let out a huff of air at the action.

Fucking hell, she’s strong.

Then, sharp and fearful, Natasha snarls, “No!” and separates from you entirely, a cry of pain ripping through her. You sit up quickly, turning on the light and frantically murmuring to her to try and wake her up. Not wanting to end up dead on the floor, you’re careful in coaxing her out of the nightmare. When she finally wakes up, she jolts up so fast that she nearly knocks her head into yours.

Sweat lines her forehead, her pupils dilated and her breathing uneven as she looks around the room as if expecting shadows to turn into monsters.

“Nat, you’re okay,” you keep your tone gentle, your hand daring to reach out towards her own. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

Natasha practically throws herself back into you, and you aren’t sure if she’s crying or trying to catch her breath. You wrap your arms around her, rubbing slow circles along her back and summoning a bit of heat in your palms until she finally relaxes. She takes several slow, even breaths before pulling back a little, wiping under her eyes swiftly.

“Sorry,” she mutters, looking away from you. 

Frightened of her closing herself off again, you make a brave move. The bravest damn move you’ve ever made - possibly your last. “You can trust me, Nat.”

There’s a terrifying silence wherein you fear, genuinely, for your life. To your surprise, when Natasha looks back at you, she’s got that vulnerable expression once again. She swallows, running her tongue over her lips.

“Just… bad memories,” she says at last, and you frown.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shakes her head, closing her eyes tightly. “Not… not right now.” A pause. “But, maybe, someday.”

That’s enough, for now.

You turn the light back off, laying back down against her silk sheets and numerous pillows, a far cry from your own messy bed. Natasha lays on her side, looking over her shoulder expectantly. Unused to the idea of /spooning Natasha, you fall into your place with understandable apprehension. 

It’s nice, though.

It’s always nice to hold her.

Fucking hell does she even know what she’s doing to you?

One of Natasha’s hands moves up to your own that’s resting comfortably on her waist. Her fingers curl with yours, and you can’t hear whatever it is she says thanks to the roar of your heartbeat in your ears.

You’re going to kill Steve Rogers.

-

Natasha has been quiet all day. The team is supposed to come back soon, and that means you’ll probably be sent to clean up after them. Natasha will likely be forced by Steve to hang back, which she’ll hate but do anyway, so you spend much of the day preparing yourself for the inevitability of your coming mission.

You’ve grown so used to chatting with Natasha that the silence feels louder than words. She’s getting better, but keeps getting the chills so you switch between checking your gear and training with your powers, as well as giving Natasha the cuddles she needs to keep her teeth from chattering.

It’s odd, because Natasha hasn’t had a fever in at least twenty four hours, so you can’t imagine why she still gets the chills. Maybe this flu is worse than you thought? But she wasn’t sniffly anymore, either, and her cough seems to be entirely gone.

You don’t say any of this, though. Part of you - a very selfish part that, honestly, probably shouldn’t exist - enjoys the fact that the redhead wants to snuggle up with you. After enduring her attitude for months, it’s a change in pace you aren’t eager to let go of anytime soon. She fits so perfectly in your arms, feels so good to hold - how can you go back to sleeping alone in your bed after all of this?

Natasha inhales slowly, then exhales in a harsh breath. Her head rolls onto your shoulder, a hum slipping her lips. “I have to tell you something,” she says slowly, cautiously. “But you have to promise not to be mad.”

You scoff. “What, are you about to declare your undying love for me?”

“Uh- well, actually…”

Your heart leaps into your throat. You look down at her with wide eyes. “Wait, what?”

“I was lying about being cold,” Natasha admits, blushing. “And I picked all those fights with you because I, um,” she mumbles something incoherently.

“What was that?” You can’t fight the rising smirk.

Natasha huffs. “You heard me.”

“Nope, I didn’t,” you start to withdraw your arms but Natasha pushes further into them in protest.

“Okay! Okay. I… sort of have a… y’know. Crush, or whatever. On you.”

Now your smirk is a full on shit-eating grin. “You mean to tell me that I’ve officially woo’d the Black Widow?”

Natasha pushes your shoulder away. “Cute, but I could still kick your ass.” Her cheeks are crimson - you’ve never seen her so flustered before. You wish you could take a picture with your mind and cherish it forever. “I just didn’t think they’d leave you with me when I got the flu, and then you were being so sweet and-

“Nat,” you interrupt. Her emerald eyes meet yours, wide and a little afraid. “I like you, too.”

“‘Like’. What are we, sixth graders?” Natasha rolls her eyes despite the smile pulling at her lips.

“And here I was going to offer you a kiss to make up for all the teasing.” You drawl sarcastically.

Natasha moves suddenly into your lap, pulling your lips against hers in a passionate kiss. It’s like she’s been waiting months to feel your lips on hers - and, honestly, she might have been. You know you’ve certainly thought about this more than once, even before Natasha got sick.

When she pulls away, Natasha leans her forehead against yours with a disbelieving grin on her now parted lips. “You talk too much.”

-

When the team returns, looking a little battered but not too terrible, Natasha seems back to her normal self. Everyone definitely catches onto the sudden change in her behavior towards you, but thankfully, nobody questions it. As nice as it is to see Natasha healthy, the morning everyone returns you feel a little woozy. Everyone sounds a little muffled, and you can’t really breathe out of your nose, like, at all.

You don’t have much time to dwell on it, though, as you’re sent to meet up with some SHIELD agents to clear out the rest of the HYDRA facility the others had destroyed. This only takes a few days, but when you return, you feel like you’re on death’s door. You’re unnaturally cold, nose running and a sneeze always building in the back of it.

Tony, weirdly enough, is the first to mention it. Unsurprisingly, he decides the best time to bring this up is during the first dinner the entirety of the team can share since their mission.

“So, did you and Romanoff swap spit or are you just sick from being stuck with her?”

You nearly choke on your pasta. “Fwhap?” 

He snorts, rolling his eyes. “You look like shit, (Y/N).”

“Oh,” you blush when Natasha turns her intense gaze on you. “Uh- I’m- I mean, I’ll get over it fast. I’m fine, really.”

“Nope,” Natasha shakes her head sternly. “Absolutely not.”

Everyone looks at her with blatant surprise.

She shrugs lightly under the attention. “You took care of me. Let me return the favor.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Tony asks Steve in a terrible whisper.

Natasha happily responds with a kick under the table, her eyes never leaving yours. “C’mon, get to bed.”

“This is payback, isn’t it?” You groan as you stand up, earning a roar of laughter from the others.

Natasha’s sadistic grin is response enough. This is going to be a long recovery week.

[toru-oikawas-milkbread]

Sleepy Cuddles With Iwaizumi

Pairing: Hajime Iwaizumi x f!reader

Prompt/summary: After a hard day, what does Iwaizumi want more than anything? To come home and be with you, his wonderful fiancée, though he knew that you might have been asleep because you’d worked all night the previous night and also some of today. He thought that in the worst case scenario he would be able to shower and curl up with you while you slept, but much to his surprise and happiness, you were awake and cooking dinner when he got home. While maybe the night didn’t go as you’d originally planned when dinner burns, you couldn’t have regretted Iwaizumi distracting you even at the cost of the dinner

Word count: 1.8K

Warnings/contents: Fluff

Notes: It’s Hajime time!! Now that I’m no longer shadowbanned, I’ve been thinking more seriously about what to write. I was worried I might be shadowbanned for a long time like some people happen to be, or even my blog might’ve been deleted if Tumblr was going to be that way, but thankfully it wasn’t! So for my returning post, I have Iwa. This isn’t necessarily sleepy cuddles like the other chapters, but it’s sort of like it? This was just what my brain decided would work for the story, so I hope that you like this!

@iwaizoomiess​ It is done. I hope that you enjoy this! It wasn’t what I originally planned on doing, but it’s Iwa and my brain chose differently, so... here we go! 

<>~<>~<>

His stress level was exceeded as he pushed the key into the keyhole. Iwaizumi was stressed after this shitty day, and it had given him a bad stress headache. For the first time in his career, Iwaizumi had wanted to go home early more than anything. He loved what he did— helping people out with their fitness and inspiring them to not just get fit, but to take steps further in life to not be miserable anymore and to learn to love themselves. It was something that he’d always known he wanted to do— but today had sucked, and all he wanted was to come home.

Thankfully when he pulled into the parking lot, your car was here. He knew that you occasionally worked nights at the morgue, and he really needed you right now. The issue was that he didn’t know just how tired or frustrated you were going to be. Being the kind of guy that he was, Iwaizumi chose to comfort other people rather than be comforted himself. Unless it was from you or Oikawa, he had never really wanted to let himself be so vulnerable— and even with you, who he trusts so much, he would rather comfort than be comforted.

You’d worked all night yesterday, and he knew you had some things to get done today, meaning you most likely only got a few hours of sleep, and he wondered if you might have even been asleep now.

Pushing the thoughts aside, Iwaizumi opened his door and stepped inside. The apartment was still, but his hopes weren’t down for too long before you popped your head around the corner from the kitchen and sent him a big grin as you set something down.

“Haj!” Instantly, he felt himself smile as he looked at you when you walked around and hurried over to him. He dropped his bag and opened his arms, that small smile still on his face as you wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your nose against his chest. "Oh, it feels like I’ve hardly even seen you lately.” You said, happy to be with him again and nuzzling your nose against him. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Despite how stressed, hungry and exhausted your fiancé was, he couldn’t help the smile on his face as it widened. He tightened his arms around you and rested his head on top of your own, the smell of your shampoo letting him know that you had showered recently.

“I’ve missed you, too, baby.” He said, pressing a little kiss to your head. “How was work?”

“It was great! Or— well, for me it was.” You said, showing no effort to pull back from the man to speak to him like you usually did so that you could meet his eyes, but he wasn’t complaining one bit as he held you in his arms and enjoyed the feeling of your chilled hands over his shirt holding him back after this shitty day. “The hairdresser didn’t come after I’d finished embalming a patient, so I got to do it myself and earn a little more money.” You explained simply. “How about you? How was work for you?” Since you had such a good day, Iwaizumi was torn. He hated to dampen the mood. What if he’d just lied and said it was fine rather than telling you it had been a bad day? Would anything really change? Your touch would be just as comforting and you wouldn’t seem sad with him for a few minutes, but ultimately, he didn’t have too much time to think before he sighed.

“It was rough.”

“Aww, I’m sorry, baby.” You said, gently rubbing the man’s back and pulling away just a little bit to look up at him. “Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to come help me make dinner and I can distract you from it?”

“I don’t want to think about it anymore,” he said, gently cupping your cheek in his hand as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. You smiled, leaning into the man and closing your eyes as he gently pressed his lips to yours. He felt your chilled fingers wrap around his before you suddenly broke the kiss and smiled at him.

“Come on, let’s go make food. I’m starving. I took a 2 hour nap and then showered when I got home, so I have so much energy right now.” You said, waiting for Iwaizumi to kick his shoes off before tugging the man gently after you as he softly chuckled to himself.

“I can see that.” You sent him a cute grin before turning your head around and bringing him with you to the kitchen.

“I’m making honey sesame shirataki,” you said, making your fiancé’s stomach growl at the mere thought of eating. You snickered softly at him but said nothing, pushing a loaf of bread to the side and pulling yourself up onto the counter. You scooted back a little bit, looking at Iwaizumi and opening your arms with another smile as the noodles bubbled in the water beside you. He smiled, wrapping your legs around his waist as he leaned in and pressed his hands beside you on either side of the counter. Your fingers went up into his hair as you pressed a quick kiss to his forehead before he buried his nose against your shoulder.

Leaning your head against him as you reached over to stir the noodles, you were making Iwaizumi already feel more relaxed as you held onto him and played with his hair. He was excited for tonight— to lay on top of you and sleep for the rest of the night with you in his arms. Maybe tomorrow wasn’t Saturday, but he knew that by time tomorrow morning came, he was going to be so much more relaxed and ready to head back to work after being with you.

He always missed you so much when you were at work all night. He understood that your job had the tendency to be rather demanding, but that didn’t make him miss you any less.

You pressed another kiss to his head, looking at the pasta as you stirred it and reaching for the vegetable spatula to stir them as well while Iwaizumi leaned into you. This wasn’t an unfrequent occurrence— for Iwaizumi to be leaned against you while you made dinner after a hard day, though often times he was behind you with his nose buried against your shoulder and his arms around your waist.

“Oh, how is Matsukawa?” Iwaizumi suddenly asked as he slightly pulled back to look at you. He looked tired as you looked at him, but no matter how exhausted he’d looked that day, you still found him so handsome that it was almost ridiculous. As many people had always been so attracted to Oikawa, the man was like a brother to you, and you’d found yourself flushing the second your eyes met Iwaizumi’s.

Now you were somehow lucky enough to be engaged to the man.

“He’s good. He told me to tell you hi— sorry, I got a little bit too excited when I saw you.” Iwaizumi gave a soft chuckle and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“That’s alright. I don’t think I would ever complain about you being excited to see me.” He said, grabbing the wooden spoon to stir the noodles and helping you take care of dinner. You leaned against him, reaching beneath his arm to stir the vegetables while you relaxed against his shoulder. He pressed another kiss to your head and rubbed your back gently with his thumb while he stirred the pasta.

“What do you want to do tonight?” You asked, breaking the comfortable silence that was shared between the two of you.

“Uhh, do you want to watch a movie?” You nodded gently, nuzzling into his chest.

“Sure. Will you cuddle with me?”

“Of course I will.” He said, glancing over the counter into the living room and thinking of any way to curl up with you— whether it be with him on top of you or you curled against him. Honestly, after this day, merely being in your presence was refreshing enough that he didn’t care if you were sleeping, cuddling in silence, talking, or watching a movie. All he wanted was to be close to you.

A soft kiss to his neck stole Iwaizumi’s attention away from his thoughts. He looked at you, seeing you already looking at him with a cute little smile on your pretty face.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

“You.”

“Oh, really?” You asked, your little smile curling into more of a small smirk as you raised an eyebrow. “What about me?”

“Anything about you.” He said simply, reaching up and brushing your hair back. “I’ve had a really shitty day, but just in these few minutes that I’ve been home with you, you’ve made it so much better.” He said, making your cheeks warm a bit. “I just can’t believe that I’m lucky enough to be the guy you chose to spend the rest of your life with.” You gave a soft laugh and gently shook your head.

“You know, I think that same thing about you.” You said, reaching for his hand and sliding your fingers between his own. “You’ve always been so kind to me even when I felt like I didn’t deserve it. I know that this is kind of cheesy,” you started with a playful eye roll, “But you really do have a heart of gold, Haj. You care about other people, you take care of other people, and never once have you ever asked anything in return. There’s really not anybody else just like you, and I couldn’t ask for a better guy to want me.” He bit his tongue trying not to smile as big as he wanted to.

“I’ve always wanted you.” He said softly, giving your hand a light squeeze and forcing himself to hold eye contact even as he got flustered by your words. “Ever since I saw you. I thought… I don’t know— right at first I thought that you might have been the type to go for Oikawa. You have no idea how happy I am that you went for me.” You smiled and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips and resting your forehead against his afterwards.

“If I could do it all over again, I would still choose you.” Iwaizumi smiled wider, about to say something back before he sniffed and pulled back to look at the noodles.

“I think the food is burning.” You hesitated for a second, slowly looking away from your fiancé to the food that was in fact burning. Slowly, you reached over and shut the burners off before looking back at Iwaizumi and sucking your teeth.

“Take-out and cuddling while we watch Godzilla?”

“You really do know me.”

[amimimi]

nightmares ; kyan reki

synopsis: in which Reki wakes up from a nightmare and you help him through the aftermath (take place after episode 7)

genre: hurt/comfort, angst with a fluffy ending

warnings: nightmares, panic attack, swearing,

word count: 2.5k

notes: this is sad af IM SORRY. i thought of this scenario when episode 7 dropped but I didn’t write it until recently. i'm going to do a part 2 to this post episode 11 and i promiseee it'll be a lot happier. I apologize in advance for spelling/grammatical errors.

it should’ve been movie night.

you should’ve been wrapped in reki’s arm watching pirates of the caribbean or some other corny movie, simply for the purpose of having not to exert any brain energy.

and you should’ve definitely been teasing reki by smacking noisy kisses on his face or blowing raspberries at the base of his neck.

but alas, it’s nearly midnight and you’re not doing any of aforementioned activities you should’ve been doing. instead, you’re finishing up a paper for your literature class due the next morning. reki, being the supportive boyfriend he was, offered to come over with snacks anyways to offer your moral support. “I gotta hold you accountable, babe!” reki grinned, squeezing your cheeks with both his hands.

that was nearly four hours ago.

currently, you’re furiously typing away at your paper with your legs stretched out in front of you. you were on your conclusion, trying to wrap up whatever you had written. your boyfriend is softly snoring beside you on your bed. he’s facing you, laying on his side with one hand resting on your lower thigh.

you paused from typing upon hearing reki sigh in his sleep. your heart swells and you have to hold back the urge to coo at the sight of reki drooling slightly onto one of your plushies. biting back a giggle, you set your laptop aside and snatch your phone off your bedside table.

after snapping four or so pictures, you notice reki’s brow is slightly furrowed. you still - thinking that you may have waken him up from shifting too much, until his brow furrows deeper and whimpers. your confusion morphs into concern and you realize that reki is having a nightmare.

shit. should you wake him? were you supposed to wake people from nightmares? you were sure you heard it makes it worse. or was that sleeping walking?

suddenly, reki’s eyes, bloodshot with sleep, flutter open as he rouses from whatever miserable dream he was having.

“reki?” you ask hesitantly as he struggles to sit up. he’s taking sloppy breaths, his eyes darting around the room until they land on you. “reki, are you okay?”

you feel your heart drop into your stomach when you see a mixture of confusion and terror in reki’s eyes. his breathing is now bordering on erratic but he manages to wave you away with his hand. “M’fine, m’fine!” he assured you, though his voice is slightly shaking. “you can go back to sleep, sorry to wake you”

you frown. “reki, i wasn’t sleeping. i was writing my essay, remember?”

he just stares at you with an unreadable expression. you want to reach out and touch him—or hold him or something, but you stop yourself. you’re afraid you might make whatever it is worse.

“reki, are you sure you’re alright—?”

but he’s already climbing off your bed, his movements frantic and unsteady. you hear him choke out “just gotta go to the bathroom” between barely audible pants. and before you have time to respond, the bathroom door down the hall shuts but you don’t hear the click of the lock.

with that, you’re left sitting alone in your room. you blink a couple times before hesitantly throwing your legs over the side of the bed. there was no way in hell he was okay and you knew that. never once have you seen him shaken up— so panicked like that. the look in Reki’s eyes and the tremble in his voice was enough to activate the urge to protect. but you were also scared. scared of doing the wrong thing, of messing up and making it worse.

Sighing, you sit back on your bed and decide to give him 10 minutes to gather himself. if he needed your help, you reasoned with yourself, he would’ve asked...

...would reki have asked for help?

knowing the answer to that question, you hauled yourself off your bed and tip-toed out of your room. the house was silent, save for the soft pattering of your footsteps and your parents' soft snores wafting over from their room. as you approach the bathroom as quietly as you can, the faint sound of reki gasping frantically become becomes more evident, and your heart breaks. it takes every ounce of willpower not to break the door down and you take a deep breath before softly knocking on the door.

"reki, baby?" you whisper, with your your lips almost pressed up against the door. reki doesn't answer, but he's still breathing erratically from behind the door and you wonder if he even heard you. “reki?”

no answer. wondering if reki even had the chance to lock the door, you gently twist the knobs and find that your suspicions were correct. you push the door slightly open and your heart shatters.

reki is visibly shaking where he stands in front of the mirror as he grips the edges of the sink, his knuckles white. still taking shuddering breaths, he hangs his head down, his hair plastered to his forehead, and eyes squeezed shut. he’s too absorbed in regaining control over his body to notice you had opened the door.

trying to keep the tremor out of your voice, you whisper his name to get his attention. “reki?”

he hears you this time. reki’s head snaps up so fast you swore you heard a crack. with glossy eyes, he looks up at the reflection of your face peeking in through the door. initially, confusion crosses his face, as though he forgot he was even in your house. however, confusion is quickly replaced with recognition, and his shoulders sag ever so slightly with relief.

“y/n?” reki croaks, and your lips upturn into a sad smile. he takes the sight of you in just a bit longer, deciding if he should be honest with you—if he should ask for your comfort. instead, he lets his head hang once more. “s-sorry, you can go back to bed. i’m fine”

“you don’t seem fine, baby”

reki doesn’t respond, neither conforming or denying your statement. biting your lip, you open the door wider but keeping from stepping in the bathroom. you want to make sure he’s okay, but you don’t want to infringe on his personal space.

“‘are you sick?” you gently question, watching a bead of sweat drip down his temple. his head still hanging, reki shakes his head. “no?”

“i—” reki is cut off by defeated sob and your heart strangles “i can’t calm down”.

something about his confession makes you feel like you’ve been kicked in the stomach. the only thing going through your mind is to protect, protect, protect, protect.

reki’s erratic breathing picks up again, and you step into the bathroom and shut the door behind you.

“okay, it’s going to be okay. i’m here”, you state as calmly as possible. “can i touch you?”

“y-yes” reki chokes out in between rapid breaths. with his consent, you step forward and gently place your hand to his back. his shirt is completely drenched in sweat, but you pay no attention as you rub small circles into reki’s back.

"you're going to be okay, i promise" you try to convince him, but he shakes his head.

"'feels like i'm dying", he says between harsh pants. a small frown forms on your face and you reach over to brush his hair out of his face.

"you're not, reki. you're having a panic attack and i know it feels really scary, but it'll pass" you tell him, trying to keep your voice firm. it devastated you to see him so distressed and you would've switched places with him in a heart beat if you could. "you're safe, i won't let anything happen to you, i promise"

you're not sure if reki believed you, but you meant it. reki was easily one of the most loving person you knew. he poured his heart into you making sure you always felt safe and heard. and not only for you, but for everyone he loved. you recalled many instances of reki grabbing and squeezing your hand in large crowds, ordering food for you whenever you felt shy. and if you had a big exam you were stressing about, he'd bring you breakfast and walk you into your class. reki was your rock so many times before, you wanted to be his now and forever.

reki suddenly jolts and you're snatched out of your train of thought. “'m so dizzy...” reki slurs, with his eyes squeezed shut.

“i know, baby”, you murmur, concerned that he wasn't breathing properly. “can you take a couple deep breaths with me?”

reki hesitates before giving a low sob, “i don’t know if i can"

"you can, reki. i'll do it with you, okay, love?" you soothe as you continue to rub his back. "breathe in through your nose-"

you take an exaggerated breath in through your nose for demonstration, and reki shakily breaths in. "good, you're doing good. and out through your mouth"

reki lets his breath out with a whoosh, and the heaviness in your chest dissipates just a little. "that's it, baby, you're doing so great" you coo. "now breathe in again for four second and out for four seconds. i'll count for you"

reki continues to take measured breaths in time to you counting and your hand doesn't once stray from his back. every now and then, you dab some sweat off his face with the sleeve of your sweater. you make sure to encourage him between breaths, to let him know you're not leaving. this continues on for a couple minutes until reki is able to take measured breaths on his own, without you counting. you never once stop rubbing his back. he's still trembling, but he seems to have calmed down a little.

“do you wanna sit down, maybe?” you’re eyeing the death grip he has on the edges of the sink to support himself up. the last thing you want is for him to collapse and potentially hurt himself. he nods his head, not opening his eyes. "bathroom or my bedroom?"

"bedroom" reki croaks, his voice sounding shot to hell. slowly, his teary eyes flutter open and he turns around to you, still gripping onto the sink. you both lock eyes and your heart bursts with love—like springtime erupted inside your chest.

"i'm so proud of you, reki" you whisper, stroking his face lovingly. he blinks at you before his bottom lip begins to quiver. for a second, you think he's gonna burst into tears but he only sighs shakily and leans into your hand. "come on, let's get you laid up and comfy"

•••

by the time reki is changed out of his sweaty shirt (he declined to take a shower, promising he'd wake up tomorrow to do so) and laid in your bed, he'd gotten through the worst of his panic attack. you had given him the snacks he had brought for you at the beginning of the night, prompting him to eat get rid of the shakiness.

now, reki was sat up in your bed, still donning the care bear blanket you draped over him and munching on a chocolate bar. he watched as you completed your skincare routine in front of your mirror. occasionally, you would glance over at him and smile reassuringly, to which he would tiredly smile back.

rubbing your moisturizer in, you make your way over to where reki is laid up on the bed. he's still chewing his chocolate bar, watching as you climb on the bed and pull yourself over to where he is laying. grinning softly, you tuck your feet under you and tuck a strand of hair behind reki's ear. he instantly nuzzles into your palm and oh, does your heart get soft.

"how do you feel?" you ask, your eyes scanning his face. the color has returned to his face, but his lips are chapped and his eyes are considerably sunken. "did you drink the water like i asked?"

"i'm feeling better and yes, i did" reki playfully retorts, sticking his tongue out at you. you purse your lips to one side and pinch his cheek, drawing a whine out of him.

"reki, look up at me real quick," you frown, holding his chin with your hand. reki momentarily forgets his chocolate bar and looks up at you, confused. you lean down and kiss him, staying like that for a couple seconds before you pull back with a grin. "there! all better!"

"was that supposed to be my get better kiss?" reki asks, his lips quirking with an amused smile.

"kinda? your lips were chapped so i wanted to give you some of my lip masque", you answer. reki rolls his eyes, but you don't miss the slight blush on his cheek. you giggle before reki wraps his arm around your shoulders and tugging you towards his chest. he grabs your nose with two of his fingers and you squeal with delight.

"what the hell is a lip masque?" he questions incredulously as you remove his hand from off your nose. you can't help the series of laughs that erupt from your chest. "oh my gosh, y/n, shhh! your parents will hear you!"

reki tries in vain to shush you, but he's giggling too, albeit a lot more quietly than you. when you manage to catch your breath, you pull yourself from reki’s grasp and sit up in front of him. the both of you smile softly at each other.

you wondered if you should ask him about his nightmare from before, although you had a feeling where this was stemming from. he seemed on edge—distant even, since the beef with adam. you remembered how distressed he was in the days leading up to the beef between adam and langa.

reki was still in a fragile state, you didn’t want to risk asking him about it so soon. maybe tomorrow? the day after that?

reki’s smile faltered. “you okay?” he asks quietly, bringing his hand up to your face. you blink, realizing that you weren’t doing such a great job of concealing your thoughts.

you sigh contentedly, twisting your head to kiss the palm of reki’s hands before placing your own hand over his.

“yes, i just—” you pause. “i just love you so much”

reki giggled and wow, was it the purest sound you’ve ever heard. he leans in and kisses you like you’re the most precious being in the world. “i love you too”, he murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours. you both stay like that, until reki yawns into your face.

“you need to rest, sweetheart”

reki frowns as you lay down, pulling him along with you. “but i am resting” he protests, stifling another yawn.

“i meant sleep” you reply, readjusting the carebear blanket around his shoulders. he tenses in your arms, but you press your lips against his forehead. “i’ll be here, i won’t leave. and i won’t let anything happen to you”

the tension in reki’s body eases and he sighs, nuzzling into your chest. “i love you...” he slurs, eyes already half shut.

“i love you” you whisper, fighting off sleep yourself. you waited until reki’s breathing deepened—the tell-tale sign of sleep, before you let yourself drift off too.

notes: this was long as hell, part ii will be way more happier and wayyy shorter.

[littlestarofthewest]

I'm glad you opened requests again! Your writing is 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻I've been thirsty af for a fic where M!Reader and Arthur are fucking and Arthur manages to make the reader cum without even touching his dick, just pure prostate stimulation (preferably with his dick but fingers are good too). Obviously no pressure to actually write it tho!

Thank you for turning this into a tip request. It was a pleasure to write 😄

In The Deep

Pairing: Arthur x m!reader | Words: 2630 | Rating: Explicit (18+)

You sink deeper into the water, feeling like you're floating on clouds. Since you're used to washing in cold streams or lakes, a hot bath is easily the highlight of your month. That, and your company.

Arthur comes over and puts a towel down on the chair next to the tub. "Let me guess, you'll never come out of there."

"If you keep bringing me hot water when it runs cold."

"Oh no," Arthur says, laughing, "that was a one time deal because you looked miserable. I ain't your maid."

Arthur says so, but you're still wondering why he drew you a bath in the first place. You came here to rob a stagecoach or a train, but Arthur found this homestead instead. It belongs to a wealthy family that likes to stay in the city over the winter.

You could have just robbed it and moved on, but it's well off the grid, and you've been on the road for days. Arthur said you should take the opportunity to relax a little, and now that you're soaking in the water, you have to thank him.

"Sure you don't want in on this?" you say, feeling a little guilty that Arthur went to all this trouble for you.

"Maybe tomorrow; I'm good for now."

Arthur's leaning back on the chair, lighting a cigarette, and you can't help but watch him. You've been doing that ever since you joined the gang. There's just something about Arthur that draws you in.

You've seen him beat and kill people, knowing full well that he's by definition not a good man, and although you're usually suspicious about pretty much everybody, you trusted him from the start. Not that he ever tried to get you there. In fact, you've rarely seen someone who tried so hard not to be loved. You fell for him anyway. 

It all started with little things like a lingering touch while passing a gun or Arthur always picking you to bring along on hunts and jobs. That led to whispered conversations while stalking your prey and sharing a tent during cold nights.

You remember the day at the lake like it was yesterday. Arthur helped you bring in this ridiculously big fish, both of you overjoyed. You've rarely seen Arthur this light-hearted before and couldn't help but kiss him. You sat with him by the fire deep into the night before you cuddled up for warmth. And then…

"What are you thinking about?" Arthur asks, leaning over to look into the tub.

The mere memory of being with Arthur gave you a sizable boner, and you take a deep breath. "You told me to relax, remember?"

"That I did," Arthur says, putting out his cigarette.

He comes over and puts his hands on your shoulders, running them up and in your hair. Then he gets some soap and takes his time to wash you from head to toe. You wish you could tell him to stop, but you've never been pampered like this before. You only get out of the tub when the water finally runs cold, and Arthur helps to get you dry.

"Sure you're not my maid?" you tease.

Arthur only rolls his eyes before putting a quick kiss on your lips. "Come on, you haven't seen the best part."

He leads you into the next room, and you can't quite believe your eyes. The bed is enormous compared to what you're used to, with more pillows and blankets than anybody could ever need.

"Some people live like this all the time," you say with wonder.

"And today, we do as well," Arthur says with a shrug. "Help me out of these clothes."

You're all too happy about that command and open the buttons on Arthur's shirt. He peels himself out of it while you move on to his pants and then the union suit. There aren't many things that you like as much as undressing Arthur. 

Somehow you feel closer then, being the one trusted enough to see Arthur vulnerable. As much as you love him with hat, spurs, and guns, just Arthur is everything to you. 

He's still very much in control, but out of choice rather than appearing so in front of others. You learned early on that Arthur is anything but a dumb brute who only knows force.

The second Arthur's naked, he draws you in for a kiss, but before you can cling to him like a second skin, he leads you to the bed.

"Let's get you in there," he says, and you crawl on top of the sheets.

"Jesus, that's soft," you say, making Arthur chuckle.

He comes after you and moves you around, so you lie flat on the bed. You stretch out your arms and legs, enjoying the space and how you sink a little into the fresh bedding under you.

Arthur crawls over you, kissing you. All of this seems too good to be true, making you think about the alternative. You could be fleeing from the law right now or sit in jail after a robbery gone wrong. 

"Arthur?" you ask, a sudden thought creeping up on you.

"Hm?" Arthur hums while he nibbles on your neck.

"There was no train or stagecoach, was there?"

Arthur answers by kissing along your collarbone and down to your chest. It gets harder to concentrate, but you want to get to the bottom of this.

Did you know about this place before we got here?"

"Maybe," Arthur says, peppering your stomach with kisses.

"Why did you bring me here?" you ask, and finally Arthur looks at you, a grin on his face.

"Pretty sure you know."

Heat rushes to your ears before a shiver runs down your spine. You always enjoy being with Arthur, but it means so much more that he planned this.

"What's Dutch going to do to us when he finds out that we didn't rob anything?" you ask.

"Don't worry about that," Arthur says. He moves back up along your body, placing soft kisses here and there until his face is hovering over yours. "Worry about what I'm going to do to you."

Arthur looks serious, and although you know that he'll never push you farther than you can handle, your heart pumps faster. You lift your head, coaxing Arthur into kissing you. It's soft and slow at first, but you can feel Arthur between your legs, so you roll your hips, rutting against him.

"Something you want?" Arthur asks, and you answer by pressing yourself against him.

"Pretty sure you know," you say, making Arthur grin.

He gives you a quick kiss before diving to the end of the bed, and when he comes back, he's holding a small bottle. "Let's get you nice and ready for me."

A tingling feeling takes hold of your whole body, and you wonder if you'll ever be with Arthur without it happening. For now, you let it wash over you and spread your legs, showing Arthur that you're more than willing to get ready.

Arthur takes his time, using a lot of oil that he rubs around your hole before carefully pushing his finger in. You'd be okay with him being more forward, but Arthur seems to be in a certain mood today. 

After taking care of you in the bath, he goes deliberately slow now, pushing his finger in in slow motion, always giving you time to adjust. By the time he actually moves his finger in and out, you're ready to beg for more.

"How does this feel?" Arthur asks, and you sigh.

"Great."

"Good," Arthur says, moving his finger again, and for a moment, it feels weird, like he's looking for something.

A jolt runs through your body when Arthur hits a particular spot, and you suck in the air through your teeth. Arthur puts his other hand on your stomach, rubbing in a circle. "Just relax."

"I'm trying," you say, but the sensation is strange. "It feels like I have to pee."

"That's normal, don't worry about it."

"Normal?" you ask, realizing that Arthur planned this as well. "What are you up to?"

"You trust me, right?" Arthur asks, his voice serious.

"Of course."

"Then let me take care of you. Just breathe and relax. I promise you'll enjoy it," Arthur says, before adding with a chuckle, "you're not going to pee. Don't worry about that."

You take a few shaky breaths before there's a regular rhythm to it again, and like Arthur said, you try your best to unclench your muscles.

The way Arthur strokes this one spot inside of you still feels weird, but when you breathe deeper and begin to trust that you won't pee yourself, the touch becomes more and more pleasurable. 

It's similar to having your dick pumped but also so different. The arousal seems to pool deeper inside of you but still has you standing rock hard. 

"See? You're doing just fine," Arthur says, and his voice makes it even easier for you to just let it happen. 

Arthur moves his other hand now, running it up to your chest and neck, caressing your thighs and teasing your nipples with soft touches that rile you up just enough, so you roll your hips. 

Meanwhile, Arthur doesn't stop stroking you, and you can't help looking down. Your cock is leaking way more than your usual precome, and a jolt of anxiety rushes through you.

Arthur must notice since he catches your eye and stops his movements for a moment. "Hey, look at me. It's alright, that's normal, too."

"Sorry," you say, reminding yourself that Arthur would never hurt you.

"Don't worry," Arthur says, going back to teasing you, "you're alright."

He leans in to pepper you with soft kisses wherever he can reach but leaving out your dick. Instead, he keeps up the pressure inside of you.

Once you stop thinking so much about it and focus on Arthur's touches instead, your whole body seems to grow warm from the inside, with your cock twitching in excitement. You roll your hips, your body sinking in the bedding as if you want to melt, and your breathing grows even slower. 

"Now, that's a good boy," Arthur says, his voice like a gentle caress. "You're doing so good."

Just listening to him always adds to your pleasure, and as you welcome the way he teases you more and more, your arousal grows. You're warm and relaxed, but your dick begs to be touched, and you can't hold in quiet moans when Arthur's finger hits you just right. 

"I need more," you say while Arthur touches every inch of your body except your dick.

"More?" Arthur asks, and you know that he wants you to actually spell it out.

"I want you inside of me."

Arthur gets the oil again, using more on you and his cock before crawling over you. You can't hide your excitement, but again, Arthur doesn't quite give you what you want.

He teases you with the tip of his cock, rubbing with enough pressure to drive you crazy but never pushing in. 

"Please, Arthur," you whine, "I need it so bad."

"Tell me," Arthur says, his voice deep and unyielding. 

"I want you to fill me up and make me lose my mind. I'll do anything. Please."

Finally, Arthur pushes into you, but just like he did with his finger, he stretches you open with his cock as slowly as he possibly can, even holding still once in a while.

The treatment makes you grab the sheets under you, and you buck your hips. "God, I beg you, Arthur. Please, please more."

"Someone's needy," Arthur chuckles, and you run your fingers over his chest, your nails digging into the skin.

"Please," you say again, the word coming from deep within, and Arthur must hear it in your voice.

He pushes as deep as he can go, filling you up. You sigh, a little bit of the build-up pressure leaving your body. Then Arthur kisses you again, his body lined up so perfectly with yours that you feel completely at ease. Arthur's weight on you, his scent, his lips on yours, it's home for you now.

Arthur rolls his hips, hot and heavy inside of you, and with his body trapping your dick between the two of you, you're right back to being on edge. You'd be happy to keep going like this, now that you're on familiar ground, but Arthur has other plans.

After a long kiss, he gets in a kneeling position, lifting your legs up over his shoulders. You're about to ask why but Arthur pushes into you, hitting that spot again.

"Jesus Christ," you moan, your body tensing up for a moment from the surprise.

"Relax," Arthur says, running his warm hand over your stomach. "That's all you have to do. I'll do the rest."

You take a deep breath, and like you did before, you lean into the feeling. Arthur's movements are slow and deliberate, quickly building up that hot sensation you noticed before.

When you close your eyes, Arthur pets your thigh. "That's good. Open up for me."

You're torn between looking at him and just focusing on yourself, but soon it becomes quite hard to miss what's going on. It's like Arthur is setting fire to your lower body. 

Looking at him as he holds on to your hips to thrust into you makes matters even worse. Your dick twitches like crazy, still untouched, and you're not sure how much longer you can take this.

"Arthur, please," you groan, having a hard time even catching your breath, "I need more."

"You're doing so good; just give it time."

You don't have a chance to argue, not with the way Arthur changes his rhythm. You can feel him deep inside of you, adding to the heat, and his voice becomes constant torture.

"God, I love watching you like this," Arthur says. "You're doing so good for me."

Listening to him makes you melt, and when Arthur thrusts into you with shorter bursts, something inside of you suddenly gives. It feels like a volcano erupts behind your cock, hot lava making its way up and down your body, sending heatwaves to the tips of your hair. 

"Arthur," you gasp, and he smiles.

"You're such a good boy. Let it happen. Come for me."

Every push of him drives you almost insane, your thighs shaking, and every muscle cramping in your body. Your cock pulses between your legs, and you stare in surprise at your own dick as you shoot your come onto your belly.

The relief that follows lingers just like your orgasm did, in a way that you've never experienced before. You close your eyes and just breathe, trying to burn that feeling into your memory.

Arthur slips out and lies down next to you, kissing your cheek. "You alright?"

You sigh before you turn to him to steal another kiss. "What the hell have you done to me?"

Arthur chuckles. "Why?"

"It never felt like this before," you say, caressing his chest with your fingertips. "You have to do that again."

"I think you're better off with a break," Arthur says with a smile.

You run your hand further down before you follow the same line with your lips. "You're right; let's take care of you first."

Unlike Arthur, you don't play it slowly but suck his cock into your mouth, eager to pay him back.

"Jesus Christ," Arthur curses, holding on to the sheets like you did. "Fine, you're a good boy. I'll do it again, I promise."

You hum around his cock, happy to apply what you already know, and you can't wait for Arthur to teach you more.

[wandsandwheezes]

NASCAR III | G.W

WARNINGS // 6.9k // SMUT 18+, George x Reader // Fred x unnamed OC, Angry Fred, Racer!George, light angst, fighting, rough sex, soft sex, breeding kink af, mentions of alcohol, cars, sex, possession, praise kink, a (tiny) amount of degradation, oral, unprotected sex, one ass slap.

A/N // the series that nobody expected to become a series has now officially done just that. @darthwheezely​ and I do be hoes for these racer boys xoxo 🏎🦋 ILYSM PHIA MWAH <333

“Fred, have you seen my jumper?”

“Yeah, it’s on the bed, baby” he called. Fred was not often a meticulous man, but (as Lee said) ‘if the fit called for a bit of work, it was always worth it.’ 

And to Fred, going to a press conference with his exceptionally hot fiancé warranted at least basic perfection, right?

Fred made a low whistle as she came out of the bathroom, a towel around her. “Well, aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes.” She came to stand in front of him, pressing one, two, three kisses to his mouth, the flavour of fresh toothpaste still on her mouth. He hummed in contentment and wrapped his hands around her waist.

“Love, it’ll be fine, this will be my tenth, glorious win-“

“-and you almost got in a crash last time because you were being a tosser, remember?”

“Mmmm, that’s in the details,” he said softly. He searched her eyes and sighed, pulling her flush  into his body.

“I promise I’ll be okay this time, you know I’m a great driver and that this isn’t anything different...I still intend on marrying you in one piece, you know.” She chuckled at that and he tilted her chin up, pressing a kiss to her forehead and murmuring:

“I love you, you know that?”

“And I love you, Freddie...even though you are a tosser.” 

He slung her over his shoulder, rolling his eyes dramatically, and threw her on the bed, her giggling at the action.

“There’s my saucy little minx, now how about a pre-press test drive, yeah?...”

—

“I can’t just not go, babe.” George sighed, pushing the hair from his face, a sudden clammy feeling of his clothes against his skin indicating just how nervous he was for the up and coming press conference. 

“You’re running a fever, George, I’ll call Lee and tell him that you need the rest and that–” You rambled, pressing the cool back of your hand against his forehead, then neck and chest, feeling that thin veil of sweat forming against his hot skin.

“Don’t.” He mumbled all too abruptly, cutting your flow of words short. Furrowing your brows, you looked down at him before shaking your head. He recognised the tone at which he had spat his word, immediately pulling your hand into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m sorry I snapped, I know you’re only looking out for me.”

“It’s okay, Georgie, I still think you should stay here with me.” You sighed, climbing over his legs to be sat in his lap as you breathed out softly, watching as his eyes softened only for his eyebrow to raise, a smirk soon finding his lips while his hands rested on your waist.

“Any old excuse to keep me at the hotel then, eh?” George licked his lips, pulling you closer into his chest as he eyed your expression, the giggle that fell from his lips like pure music to his ears.

“I just want you better for the race, idiot.” You rolled your eyes, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, his lips finding your cheeks to pepper kisses there with a smug grin on his face.

“I think I could win this one you know, regardless of me being sick or not, I have a good feeling about it.” He hummed, forehead pressed against yours lovingly.

“What makes you say that?” You prodded, running your hands through the hair at the back of his head.

“I have one thing nobody else has; you.” He praised, only for you to bury your face in the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath as his hands ran up your back. “I love you so much, angel.”

“I love you too, George, more than you’ll ever know.”

—

The conference room was packed - that’s an understatement, really. Every journalist alive came to talk to the new dominators of modern NASCAR racing, George and Fred Weasley. Although, as George spitefully knew:

He was somewhere because of Fred. Again.

That familiar feeling of resentment threatened to bubble in the younger twin’s throat, and he immediately began to push it down. The fights, the mutual disgust and disdain - that was done now. Ten wins for Fred should mean legitimately less than nothing but excitement for his older brother. 

So why was that feeling still there? 

“Hello, everyone, I’m sorry I’m late!” Fred entered from the back of the stage, nothing but glimmer (and gloat) in the elder twin’s face. Good mood Fred could always either be an impending disaster, or one of the best things the world has ever seen.

Of course he’s late, he’s always late, George thought, before guilt immediately settled in. 

Fred took a bottle of water, winking playfully at the young lady who got him one, before settling in his seat next to George. 

“Right then, questions?” Fred boomed, that familiar sunshine of a smile very evident on his face. The man behind them, George’s manager was directing questions, and George swallowed at what questions would appear. 

“This is for Fred, do you predict another victory in this race?” The journalist asked.

Fred leaned a bit forward in his seat and dipped his mouth into the microphone:

“Does the pope wear a big hat, love?”

George however sniggered to himself at the question, holding back a laugh at Fred’s answer. Of course he would answer in the cockiest way known to man, only lighting a fire under the younger twin’s arse to kick into gear and take the baby driver down a few pegs. 

“Something funny, Georgie?” Fred turned his head slightly to the side, the smile still there, but dark eyes venturing into icier territory.

“Nothing, Brother, just think you should remember there is always tough competition, no matter how cocksure you are.” George murmured loud enough into the microphone for his words to reverberate around the room, some reporters eyeing each other before vigorously taking notes. 

Fred had been taking a sip of his water and nearly choked, eliciting a “sorry everyone!” into the microphone. He gave George a brief side eye, but no - he wasn’t going to let him ruin his moment again. They’ve moved past this, George can have his own fun, why couldn’t he be a little confident for a change?

“Hi, this question is for George,” Fred only heard that much before a brief but very definite prickle of resentment tingled at his skin. He started to feel a bit warm but was determined to brush it off, turning towards George a bit.

“You’ve had a fantastic season these past couple years, and although you’ve lost the past ten races, you still stick to the top five - will we get our own Crimson Wonder back, or is that Fred’s title now?” 

George held back on his instinct to bite at his brother’s ego, instead taking a sip of water to collect his thoughts before speaking, his mind trailing back to the words he had said this morning; ‘I have a good feeling about this one’.

“Fred and I both train hard, as does every other racer out on that track,” George swallowed thickly before continuing his sentence, “But I think my own winning streak is far from over, who knows, as you say, you may get your Crimson Wonder back yet.” 

Fred attempted to register and probably stop the inherently blank expression on his face, but honestly? It was too much. Yes, George was great, and yes, he was proud of him but.

Why was there a deeply unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach? Twintuition as they called it was something not out of the ordinary at all - but why was it that somewhere in the back of his mind he just felt this...this negative foresight.

There was one thing Fred didn’t like more than avocados (Fred hated avocados) and that was losing.

“My baby brother, so inspirational isn’t he? Gets it from my mum, absolutely.” Fred curled his lips into his mouth, gnawing on his bottom lip, in complete understanding of what he just said. The reporters didn’t have to know that any time he brought up their age or said my mum instead of our mum, it kind of lit a match in George. 

In short, Fred knew exactly what he was doing. And George didn’t really like that, but he wasn’t about to stoop to Fred’s level and ruin his public imagery, not with his wife-to-be and his sister-in-law-to-be watching and murmuring to each other with pained faces: they knew the tension was there too, of course they had.

“I think we should leave the rest of the heat for rubber burning on the track.” The moderator cut in, taking final questions from the press aimed at the others on the panel, letting the twins simmer in their own jealousy toward one another as the conference came to a close.

The boys’ demeanours had completely shifted, George staying behind to take pictures and leave autographs for fans, smile on his face and a sense of pride in his chest, while Fred had made a swift exit in just the way he arrived, looking absolutely miserable.

—

“Georgie,” Fred called out from the locker rooms, “just what the fuck was that?” His bare chest red while he angrily scrambled to get his uniform on.

“Please,” George scoffed, zipping his uniform up calmly, before pushing his bag into his locker with ease, “I could ask you the same question.” 

“I was actually trying to give the press what they wanted, a good show, you, on the other hand, just wanted to be a proper arsehole in front of everyone.” He slammed his locker door shut, his knuckles on his hand against it surely white now from childish rage.

George closed his locker with force, not so much anger, running a hand through his hair before picking up his helmet, his tongue truly in his cheek, the angel on his shoulder begging him to stay quiet while the devil paralleled telling him that it was about time he spoke his feelings. “I’m the arsehole? Check your own actions first, mate.” 

He breathed but he wasn’t done, the words flowing like vomit as he finally let go all of the bottled aggression, “You don’t know the first thing about being a racer, how fucking tiring it is and you use it against me like its something I’m not good at and I’m fucking tired of it.” 

George went to continue, but the guilt of spitting every thought in his brain suddenly overcame him, instead he clutched at his helmet a little tighter, taking a deep breath before muttering as he walked away, “Good luck out there, you’ll need it.”

Fred stood there watching him walk away, something a bit more unfair that self-loathing and resentment lingering in his chest. It was dizzying, it was a feeling he altogether hated and actively tried to pretend he didn’t have.

Fred Weasley, in short, was guilty. 

—

The Arizona sun was beating down on the track, everyone watching on with baited breath as each car lined up on the Phoenix Raceway, engines revving in anticipation of the start of the race. Fred was clutching at his steering wheel tightly, blinkered only on one thing; winning this one. George however, knew the racers he was up against; some of the best in the NASCAR cup and even some that had been driving as long as he had been alive, was lucky to find himself there, taking a deep breath. George wasn’t a religious man but in that moment he was praying to whatever god to grant him some good luck. 

The green flag waved, signalling the start of the race, each car zooming by as the engines roared. The race was a tough one and everyone watching on knew that. The first ten or so laps went just as smoothly as planned, a backhaul crash in the 18th lap just missing the twins, but nevertheless cutting the number of racers pretty much immediately in half. 

George grew more confident as he crept up the rankings, sitting comfortably in about 6th place for a grand majority of the race, while Fred trailed much behind him in about 8th place. The tension of the conference had truly stumped the older twin, pushing him to want to be up in the top dogs, but to no avail, every attempt was blocked for him. 

The final three laps, George was in fourth and Fred was nowhere to be seen, well sat in his 11th place, seething at his inevitable loss. The younger twin was content with his placing, watching the third place drop down to 5th pushing him into the top 3. George swore he felt every single beat of his heart as he zoomed past the lap line. Two to go. Third place was enough for George, especially in a race like this. He zoomed past the lap line again. White Flag. Last chance.

In a flash, a car from behind George pushed forward, striking the first place car, sending three cars spiralling off the track leaving behind only dust sparks and fire in their tacks. It didn’t click for George that he had passed the finish line in 1st place until it blared through his headset.

“I fucking did what?” He shouted as he continued speeding around the track, the confirmation of his win ringing through his ears as he let out a loud but satisfied yell, the stress of weeks of losses finally leaving him in an exhale, welcoming the new feeling of pride. 

Fred in the heat of the crash had fallen to 12th place, pushing him to be the last of all the cars on the track past the finish line - a loss he was not ready to accept no matter how much pride beamed from him hearing the news that the winner had been his own twin brother. 

—

“George, how does it feel to have a trophy back?” 

“Honestly, it feels so surreal - I’m so grateful for my team, crew, and absolutely amazing fiancée, Y/N - I love you so much, baby,” he shouted over the noise, cameras completely swamping the victory stage and hallway down to the bar. He had everything he could’ve wanted, you, a real win again, happy sponsors - but there was one thing missing.

Fred. Where was Fred? Did it really matter? He knew he hadn’t placed very far, but surely he wouldn’t be that angry would he? But then - no. No, George won, he deserved to win again after Fred had been hogging all the sunny days and he was still supportive. So where was his twin now? Even after everything.

He stopped you on his arm and said: “actually, there is one more person I really do have to thank.” He faced directly towards the camera, you utterly confused.

“Thank you, Freddie, for being the best supportive big brother a guy could ask for. You’ve always been a winner to me.” And with a shaky swallow, knowing he wasn’t here, knowing he probably could give a shit whether George thanked him or not, he went off with you on his arm to have a drink.

God knows he needed it.

—

The older twin sat in the lockers, his elbows resting on his knees, his bare arms and chest tensing periodically with pure and spiteful rage. What the absolute fuck had he done differently? He had been on his highest alert, his most pristine focus, what went wrong? 

He didn’t crash, he didn’t bitch and moan to his pit crew, he didn’t fly off the handle - yet - so why did he get the curt, “I’m sorry, son, we all lose sometimes,” from Vinnie, his new manager like it was just normal. 

Fred Weasley didn’t lose. Especially not after a ten time winning streak, no, he refused. 

So there he sat, knowing his fiancé was probably making excuse after excuse as to why her husband had fled the cameras and the questions, why he wasn’t congratulating his brother on his fantastic win - but he didn’t have the energy to feel guilt. All he felt was loathing. He barely didn’t register the soft clicking of his soon to be wife’s heels clacking against the tile floor. 

“Fred Weasley, what the fuck are you doing naked in the locker room, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she said with great exasperation. She looked stunning, in that pretty little two piece skirt and black crop number, not at all like a woman frantically in search of her formula 1 MIA husband. 

“You look great, sweetheart,” he mumbled, barely looking up at her before getting up and turning to his locker, getting out his change of clothes. She watched his back ripple with tension and at the sight alone felt her thighs break for a second.

“So were you planning on telling me where you were or just sulking in here?” 

“I was taking a shower, actually...I don’t get why you’re so pissed at me.” He snapped, not even bothering to turn around. 

“I’m ‘pissed’ at you because your brother loves you and you’re in here acting like a five year old who got his teddy taken away from him.” She retorted. Fred turned around then, slamming the locker door shut for the second time that day, the sound echoing in the bathroom. 

“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?” He seemed to punctuate every word in the sentence, but his voice very quiet - too quiet. 

“You’re - just get your clothes on and knock it off, Weasley,” she scoffed, trying to walk off the very minor but very palpable fear she felt, and the evident arousal pooling in her thighs. Fred, unfortunately, knew this, and in Fred fashion, was feeling quite a good many ways about this. 

“Get your ass back here, right now, sweetheart,” he snapped, his volume gaining to a low roar. When she kept on walking to the door, his long legs loped to a brisk walk in front of the doorway, right in front of her. She didn’t realize that she was holding her breath for a second until she exhaled, and his thumb came up to grace her bottom lip.

“Open,” he said quietly, and then she did listen, her lips opening up to his thumb immediately. He always did this mannerism, when he said open he’d open his mouth too, almost showing her how she needed to be before usually saying “theeere, it is” but right now, he was silent, his mouth pressed in a thin line. 

But then she bit. And hard. Pushing him off her and making him gasp, her heels clicked down the tile as fast as she could walk. But Fred wasn’t going to let her get away that easy. In an instant he threw his elongated and toned arm out to grab her waist, pulling her back into the wall, caging her in his hold.

“You’re being an absolute twat, you know that?” She spat. He delicately slapped the side of her face and squeezed her cheeks to form an o.

“And you’re being a prissy little bitch, but I’m still here, aren’t I?” He said harshly, scanning her eyes before yanking her in for a kiss. She immediately released a desperate moan into his mouth and he slid his hand through her hair and all the knots and tangles possible to reach the back of her head. His other hand slid down up her skirt to grope her thigh, hoisting her legs around his waist. 

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad, I swear,” she breathed out, before his lips messily met hers. He always kissed with his jaw, she noticed that, when he’d hit his strong jaw out to move with her and nuzzle her face and then she always moaned like she was doing now.

In an instant he was carrying her back towards the shower, the shuffle of so many movements causing the towel around his waist to fall off.

“You ready to take a winner, baby?” 

— 

After a couple of drinks it was safe to say that you and George had gotten a little closer than you usually would have sober. He wasn’t even tipsy, feeling no more than the pride of his win but even with that he wasn’t going to ignore the fact that his girl was practically purring for him while clinging to his arm. You were so desperate to pull him in for a kiss, hell you probably would have let him have you in the hall out of pure lust for your husband-to-be.

It had been so long since you’d seen him smile the way he was now, pride radiating off his skin alongside the heat of his lingering fever, making you remember that not only had he won the hardest race he’d ever driven, but he’d done so while sick. A smirk spread over your lips as you went to push up on your toes, lips pecking a gentle kiss to his jaw.

“What’s that for, angel?” He smiled down at you, his lips now ducking down to press a loving kiss to your forehead. 

“Just a taste of how I’m gonna congratulate my winner later.” You mumbled playfully as his arm snuck around your waist to pull you in tighter, leaning to whisper in your ear as his lips grazed over your earlobe.

“Guess I should think about getting you to bed then, yeah? That what you want bub?” He pulled away from your ear with a grin stretching from ear to ear.

You nodded bashfully, letting him tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the rosy hue on his cheeks apparent just from being close to you, in this moment. George didn’t care about the press or his manager or really even the win anymore, not when he had you right in front of him, begging him short of being on your knees. 

He made an excuse, whatever it had to be to get you alone, to get away from the champagne, cameras and chatting. His jacket was draped over your shoulders as you found your way out of the celebration lounge, giggling like teenagers as you walked hand in hand to his car, the echoes of laughter humming around the underground car park before he had you trapped between his body and the passenger side door.

“I can’t wait to get you back to our room.” He mumbled, lips just hovering inches away from yours. His hand slipped just under the hem of your top, his hot touch sending sparks flying through you.

“The things I want you to do to me, Weasley.” You breathed out, hand reaching behind his head to pull his lips down to yours, letting him leave no gaps between you, him and his car. 

“Oh yeah?,” he murmured breathlessly, nose knocking against yours, “Like what, princess? Don’t be shy, we have a whole journey for you to run that pretty mouth of yours.”

“You’ll ruin me one day if you keep talking like that, George.” 

“I think I’ll ruin you tonight instead, love.” 

—

“Freddie, please-“

“No, I’m not stopping until you cum on me, princess, I deserve that much,” he snarled, his cock rippling through her over and over. He had intended on fucking all his anger out on her ever since he pushed her into the shower, everything only mouths and melded hands. 

“Feels - feels so good, Freddie” she whined, her legs barely able to sustain being wrapped around him. His hips whipcracked into her at an entirely new angle, prompting her to mewl and claw at his back like a cat. 

“Oh my poor baby, can she not take my cock? Would another racer do a better job at - “ he pushed deeper into that new spot, her mewls and whines turning to wanton cries. “ - stretching you out instead of me?”

“No one can do this, Fred, I promise, love,” she murmured, her eyes rolling vacantly to the back of her head. He sensed her climax was arriving soon, she was like butter under his hot embrace.

“Look at me,” he growled, squeezing her face and tilting it upwards. “I want to see my prize when she makes a mess everywhere, you hear me, princess?” Her widened eyes bore into his deep chocolate ones and when she finished, she truly could not look at anything else except him, it was always him and only him that made her feel like this. 

“Thaaaat’s it, baby, look at you, being such a dirty little girl for me. You like making messes for me, princess?” He cooed, his soft and caring tone a total opposite to the way he pulled out and slammed back in, making her scream and be flush against him. 

“M-mhm,” she murmured, Fred shaking his head as he chuckled, carrying her dripping out of the shower, still inside her. “Do you want me to take you off?” He whispered, the anger still in his throat, but...she would always be more important. Making her feel safe was always important, even in the worst of his rage. Fortunately, she nodded at him and kissed his jaw, a soothing gesture that always meant she loved him, everything was okay, he didn’t hurt her. He smoothed the top of her wet hair down and gave the top of her head a kiss, his ring finger stroking against the centre of her spine.

But then, a certain thought excited him blackly. 

“Baby…who put that ring on you?” He asked pensively. No, he didn’t win that idiotic fucking race, and no, he didn’t beat his brother in this race but - he still won her. He suddenly felt his dick twitch deep inside her and he groaned, clenching his jaw at the sudden awareness of her engagement ring digging into his shoulder. He fully stopped looking at the ground and the towel on the locker hanger, reaching for it and dropping it flat on the ground.

“F-Freddie?” She asked weakly.

“Mhm?”

“What - what are you doing?” She released a high pitch whine at the feeling of Fred twitching again, and at that he flipped her over on the towel, backside up, his cunt and his ass being fully presented to him like that. And then he moaned, his eyes shutting after and his jaw rolling when he saw her buck her ass up to try and meet him wherever he was behind her. 

“God, you are just a good for nothing little Formula 1 whore aren’t you?” He breathed out, his hands sliding to cup her ass and squeezing, relishing in the scarlet rash of skin that came and went with a blink of an eye. 

“You’d like to think so,” she quietly quipped, his hands suddenly freezing on her ass.

“Oh...is that so? Well, then…” and at that he slowly began to squeeze again until she was squirming, then bringing his hand down to the centre of her ass, a loud smack echoing in the room. She cried into the towel and bucked her ass towards him once again. 

“Yes, yes, I’m a Formula 1 whore,” she wept, Fred chuckling and positioning his cock at her entrance, just barely letting his tip brush her cunt.

“What if I just stayed here, hmm? Didn’t even let you have my cock, just gave you a taste of what it would be like to get fucked by me and go use another checkered flag slut instead, that sound good, baby?” He said crisply, trying not to let the tortured feeling of his cock get to him. 

“Fred, I-“ and with a final growl, Fred pushed himself to the brim inside her once more. She cried out his name into the towel, his free hand not bracing himself from behind pushing her head into the towel. He was devouring every noise that came from her mouth, mostly strained cries and pants that registered with every crack of his hips inside her. He felt her near her release again, his as well, his hips losing tempo.

“Gonna marry you and stuff you with aaaall my babies, isn’t that right princess? Gonna make my trophy wife swell up, you won’t be able to even fathom seeing that pretty pussy of yours in the morning” He panted, groaning at the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing in her - in his - cunt. 

“Please, wanna be so full, of your...of your babies, Fred,” she whimpered, his name falling from her lips like alphabet soup as she, with a final rock of her ass against him, came undone around him. He gripped her hips and with a sharp “I love you, fuck” followed her in the same way, his hips rolling ever so gently back into her to soothe their highs.

After a moment he pulled out of her, dismantling the baby hairs sticking to her forehead out the way, pressing kiss after kiss there. 

“Weasley, you got any car plush toys on you by chance?” She quipped, prompting a grin from Fred and a chaste kiss to her lips and nose.

“No, but the Babies R Us near home might…”

—

The second you were parked up, George had his hand snaked around the back of your neck pulling you in to peck your lips over and over, warm and comforting giggles slipping from your lips between every kiss. The trip up to your room took twice the time it would usually take, stopping frequently to evade the hotel staff, as well as missing your floor entirely in the elevator; too distracted by the taste of his lips and the way his hands gripped desperately at your hips.

Once well inside your hotel room, you found yourself underneath him, hair sprawled out beneath you as he marvelled at your beauty. A toothy grin spread across his lips before his head ducked down to press a kiss just below your ear, sucking a deep purple mark against your warm skin as a giggle erupted through his throat, the vibrations causing you to do the same, hands pressed against his shoulders to push him away. 

“Good lord, woman, I love you.” He breathed out, his lips moving to press a kiss to your forehead. You sighed out a moan as his fingers slipped underneath the hem of your shirt, bunching the fabric up as he pushed it up your torso and over your bra, exposing the plain but gorgeous lace.

His lips soon pressed against your exposed skin, sucking mark after mark down the valley of your breasts, humming in satisfaction at the way you writhed beneath him as your hands wove through his soft, ginger locks, tousling them perfectly as you giggled together.

“You may have won today, Georgie, but I’m winning now.” You whined, keeping him pulled close to you as his free hand snuck just underneath the hem of your skirt, fingers brushing against your sensitive clit as he swallowed each and every moan, taking pleasure in slipping the flimsy lace to the side to sink his fingers into you quickly and with no mercy, letting you chant his name as you begged for more. 

It didn’t take much for him to oblige, hardly pulling away from you to slip his cock free, teasing your entrance for a moment before he was pushing slowly into you, letting you get used to the feeling of the first few inches, only for him to pull back out, chuckling darkly at the way you writhed against the sheets. “Baby please, don’t tease me like that.” 

He pouted mockingly, dipping his head down to press a slow and intimate kiss to your lips, nose nudging against yours before he mumbled into the kiss, letting you lean into it. “As you wish, princess.” 

Almost all at once, you felt him move your hips to the right position, continuing to tease you as he sank slowly into you, not daring to pull away again as he eyed the way your face contorted with pleasure, your hands slipping under the thin t-shirt, he wore, pulling it over his head and tossing it across the room, your nails dragging down the freshly exposed skin, pulling a groan from him.

“I’m gonna fuck you so deep, bub, gonna make you scream and give you a baby.” He groaned, hands pressing your head down to the mattress as he cradled it, hot breath fanning over your face as his slow thrusts pulled moan after moan from you.

His strong arm hooked underneath you, pulling you up and into his chest, as his hips continued in pushing in and out of you at the most antagonising pace. He smirked at the way your head immediately fell to rest on his shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut from the new angle. 

“Bet you’re loving this aren’t you? Not so bold anymore, angel.” His gravelly voice rumbled through your ear, hand gripping that little bit tighter as he felt your small shallow breaths growing deeper at the intensely slow lovemaking you were far from expecting tonight.

“I’m still bold.” You whispered, nudging forward to pull his earlobe between your teeth before peppering sloppy, wet kisses along his neck.

“Funny one, love.” He smirked, beginning to pick the pace up a notch, enough to bring the hanging release down on you, pushing you to be clenching around him as you begged for it. “I knew you’d like that.”

He had a way of completely dumbfounding you, making you lost for words, finding yourself against the sheets fully again, this time he had hooked your legs over his shoulders only to lean down and press his lips to yours, all the time his skilled fingers toyed with your clit. 

You felt as if every sense had been awoken, stimulated by his very touch like a fire had been lit around you, pulling you into the embrace of the flames as you found yourself screaming his name, the inevitable high falling over you.

“That’s it, baby, doing so good for me…” He breathed heavily, his lips pressing to your forehead as he continued to ride out your high, his own release painting your walls as he fucked it into you, pulling true on his promise of filling you up.

You felt so full, his love washing through you from head to toe as he lazily kissed you, slipping your legs off his shoulders to pull you back into his arms, keeping himself bottomed out inside of you. 

“I’m dead serious about giving you a baby, princess.” He chuckled, hand trailing up and down your back as he traced languid shapes into your soft skin.

“Good, I’m dead serious about having your baby.”

—

Fred knocked on the door, his foot tapping on the carpet outside George’s hotel room. He was always a fidgety man, but today would be all too different for the eldest Weasley twin. 

He knocked once more, altogether considering just going home and leaving a lengthy but probably nonsense voicemail, if not entirely fueled by alcohol then by sheer force of nature that was his fiancé alone. 

He had decided on giving up, his legs stretching as he turned around. But then the door opened, the equally messy haired ginger behind it looking so much calmer and more serene than Fred ever could. 

“Heya, Georgie,” Fred breathed out. George would never have said it out loud, but Fred looked like absolute death. He could tell his older brother had gotten little to no sleep, his eyes sunken in. He knew Fred was hurting, and George never was one to rub it in. If anything, George would always be the one who understood him the most, they rarely ever had to apologize to each other for things like this, their souls simply understanding when pain was evident. 

“Morning, Freddie…” George spoke warmly, crossing his arms over his chest for a moment, smiling lazily at his twin as he pondered his next move. “D’you wanna come in?” 

“Yeah...yeah, that’d be nice,” he swallowed, smiling softly at his slightly younger (but in many ways, much older) twin. 

George stepped aside, letting his brother in as he shut the door behind him. He rubbed his hands together, a smile that rounded his cheeks on his face as he sensed the awkwardness in the room. This wasn’t like them at all. “Everyone missed you yesterday, Fred, parties aren’t the same without you.”

“As in, no one drank all the rum and Coke at the party without me is what I’m hearing?” He cracked a small smile, attempting to avoid as much eye contact with Georgie that wasn’t necessary. 

“George, I’m so sorry.” He said softly, his jaw stilling. 

“You don’t have to apologise, Fred.”

“No, but I do. I...I know how special being behind the wheel is to you, and you’re right. I don’t know what it means to win, at least not like you, and...George, you’re my best friend, stupid.” He aggressively wiped under his eyes. “I want to be happy for you and lately I haven’t even been thankful for you and that isn’t fair, mate, I...I love you. So much.”

“I feel like I was losing you there, Freddie, I’ve hardly seen you, we don’t talk unless it’s a press conference and just… Fuck I hate this, I miss being able to call you and talk about all the dumb things we can do together.” George sighed, looking up to the ceiling to stop the tears from falling.

Fred’s, however, were already hitting the ground. “I hate it too, Georgie...I hate it so much. It’s fun, being a racer like you - with you - but I just...I want to fix your tires again, man” he tearfully chuckled, watching George do the same. “I want to say stupid shit like ‘baby brother, your blinker fluid is out’ over the headset and listen to you cuss me out, and I want to be able to know I’m still on your team at the end of the day.” He curled his lip inward. “That’s all I’ve wanted. Is to be on your team.” 

“You have no idea what it’s like to win without you, when you’re out there making sure that everything is okay I just know my big brother is there looking out for me and I miss it, I miss telling everyone that it was you who made it possible, Freddie, you’re my star man.” George smiled, scratching his arm nervously, wanting nothing more than for things to be like old times.

Fred let out a breathy laugh, his eyes still brimming with fresh tears. “I’m the last one to thank, you big wanker, I don’t drive the damn thing constantly, that’s all you and your foolishness.” He swallowed. “I just...if you’ll have me back, I already talked to the Wood Brothers and everything but um...there’s a deal where I would be able to also drive once a month or so, and be your Pit Crew Pit Bull the other races. If that was okay with you - I want to be there with you again.” His knee bounced in the silence, his guilt and fear bouldering in his throat.

“I’d want nothing more than to have you back, I think it’ll be good for you to still stay driving, you have to get that adrenaline fill somewhere… I don’t say it enough, but I’m proud of you, proud of what you’ve achieved.” George smiled, the toothy grin brightening up the room as the awkwardness seemed to fade. “Even though you do become a cocky bastard sometimes.” 

Fred scoffed and rolled his eyes. “One does not become a cocky bastard, Georgie-kins, one is a cocky bastard...also, I have to be,” he said getting up and moving to where George was sitting. “if I’m going up against my snot-nosed little brother who’s getting married and is going to expect me to babysit for a thousand hateful children,” he waggled his eyebrows and threw a pillow at him. “But thank you...I mean that. You know you’re easily the best on that track every time. Every time. I’m...I'm proud to be your twin, Georgie.”

“I don’t know how I survived without your brilliant humour gracing us all, Freddie, I truly missed the inspiring wit,” George chuckled, gently nudging his twin with his fist, “After all, you’re not too bad of a brother to have, not everyone can be me but you’re as close as anyone’s gonna get.” He smirked, eyebrow raised as he looked over to his twin.

“I truly am so distraught I did not destroy you in the womb when I had the shot, but here’s to the wish anyway,” full on slamming George in the face with the pillow and howling at the action. “Top that, bitch,” he barked.

“It’s on now.” George laughed, throwing the pillow back at his brother, sending an eruption of laughter echoing around the hotel room, the two boys flinging cushions around like there was no tomorrow.

But the laughter didn’t end, only continuing as loud roars and giggles as time passed. You found yourself swinging your legs out of bed, trudging towards the source of the noise, only to find feathers everywhere and the twins laughing together in a childlike manner. “Could the two of you be any more loud?” 

“Sorry, baby… didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Yeah, sorry, Y/N.” Fred chimed in.

“You’re damn lucky it isn’t early, Weasley.” You sighed, rolling your eyes as you shuffled off towards the warm embrace of the morning shower, thankful to see the twins as they should be, happy and together once again.

A/N //  so phia and i have pretty much decided that we’re gonna keep this going so... part IV coming sooooon ;))))

taglist // @slytherinsunrise @gcdricreads @theweasleysredhair @vogueweasley @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half @loony-loopy-lupinn @rip-us @hopemalfoyweasley @whizboingies @pansydaisy @darthwheezely @lumos-barnes @starlightweasley @valwritesx @weelittleweasley​

[faeriebears]

A list of kagehina fluff fics I adore, and I think you will too ♪ヽ(･ˇ∀ˇ･ゞ

• pervasion - artenon

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio

Characters: Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou

Additional Tags: Sharing Clothes, College, Future Fic

Summary:

Hinata won’t stop wearing Kageyama’s shirts to bed, and it’s becoming a problem.

• As Forking Pasts Converge Into A Single Point - anilee0510

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio

Additional Tags: Break Up, Getting Back Together, they are college age

Summary:

Two years, three months and four days if one wanted to be exact but it wasn’t like Kageyama was keeping track. Not. At. All.

(alternatively: Kageyama gets a text that sends him trekking across a couple of prefectures to make sure a certain stupid ex wasn't getting attacked by rabid dogs or abducted by aliens)

• Do you love volleyball more than me? - lalasagna

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio

Additional Tags: Kissing, dumb boyfriends kissing, Established Relationship, Fluff, ALL THE FLUFF, kageyama doesn't like not kissing hinata, hinata always gets his way because kags is whipped af, Self-Indulgent, no one cries this time youre welcome, Humor

Summary:

Hinata asks Kageyama a question and Kageyama takes some time to answer. Honestly, at least.

• Fingertips all over - sanguinekitten

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio

Additional Tags: Fluff, Sharing a Bed, Touching, just checked and i never used the word "linger" in a fic about touch so are you curious yet, kageyama has cold hands furudate told me themselves, i actually have no idea how to tag this, alternatively: kageyama has a crush and does absolutely nothing about it, Canon Compliant

Summary:

Warm.

From the breadth of his smile to the print of his fingertips, Hinata Shoyo is warm.

• Nighttime Prowl - HQcharbon (fleurdelester)

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, Neighbours, (kinda), Cats, hinata is hot, and his cat likes to annoy kageyama, thats a recipe for success in my book

Summary:

His miracle idea came to him one day as he watched the orange cat jump onto its balcony. There, practically blending into the cat’s fur, was a red collar. It’s a wonder he didn’t notice it beforehand, Tobio thinks, eyeing the bell that jingles as the cat leaps onto his windowsill to stare inside and look for Whiskers.

There’s no tag, he thinks, but that won’t be a problem.

He grabs a scrap of paper from his desk, writing a court message on a strip he tore off.

Hi, your cat keeps coming to my apartment in the middle of the night. Is it possible you can keep him inside overnight? Thanks.

He adds his name and phone number for good measure before slipping the note onto the mystery cat’s collar, hopefully ending his late nights once and for all.

• a green ring upon my finger - emleewrites

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio

Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Misunderstandings, Pro Volleyball Player Kageyama Tobio, Pro Volleyball Player Hinata Shouyou, Married Couple, Married Life, Manga Spoilers, Light Angst, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Miscommunication, Hurt/Comfort

Summary:

There, along the base of his left ring finger, is a smudge of green across the skin. “Dumbass-“ he starts.

“Don’t call me a dumbass, Tobio, my finger is rotting.”

“It’s not rotting, it’s from your ring you idiot,” Tobio tells him, half amused and half deeply exasperated. “But you said you didn’t want to tell anyone yet,” he then states, staring hard at his partner. “Isn’t everyone wondering why you’re wearing a wedding ring?”

“I don’t deny I’m married!” Hinata laughs, sounding very proud at this declaration. Tobio’s chest squeezes.

• How to become educated in the art of homosexuality - justhavesex

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio

Additional Tags: Romantic Comedy

Summary:

The world ends on a Thursday when Kageyama accidentally kisses Hinata during practice.

• A million floating hearts and counting - tsunderei

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio

Additional Tags: Manga Spoilers, Post-Time Skip, Canon Compliant, Aged-Up Character(s), Pro Volleyball Player Kageyama Tobio, Pro Volleyball Player Hinata Shouyou, Established Relationship, Living Together, Light Angst, Domestic Fluff, Fame/Social Media Struggles

Summary:

Fans have always loved to speculate about Kageyama and Hinata, especially after their professional volleyball careers took off. They usually deal with all the attention in stride, accepting the bad with the good – but the more Kageyama stays quiet, the more Hinata worries.

• There's something to be said for soup and heated lavender - emleewrites

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio

Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Pro Volleyball Player Kageyama Tobio, Pro Volleyball Player Hinata Shouyou, Married Couple, Domestic Fluff, Sickfic, Good Husband Tobio, Headaches & Migraines, Manga Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort

Summary:

“Tobio.”

“Hmmm?”

Hinata lets his hands drop away from his face and raises himself up on his elbows slightly so he can squint down the bed at him. “How many flavours have you made?”

“Err… six.”

Hinata stares at him wordlessly before letting his aching head drop back onto the pillow. “You thought I’d eat six bowls of soup?” He asks the ceiling, voice rough and bewildered.

Tobio frowns, slightly offended. Of course he didn’t think Hinata would eat six bowls of soup, he wasn’t an idiot. “I wanted to be thorough,” he pouts, scowling down at his medley of soup. Admittedly the kitchen now looked like a bomb had hit it and he’s not entirely certain about the cauliflower one, but he’s fairly sure they’re all edible.

-

In which Hinata has a migraine, and Kageyama is a doting husband with too many remedies.

• confession - buu

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio

Summary:

“You've been an ass to me for three weeks!” Hinata blurts, and finally the weight of it is pushing down on him. He's been trying to ignore it, telling himself it's just Kageyama being Kageyama, but this isn't like him, this is weird, and Hinata hates it. He's miserable.

~~

Stay tuned for the next list! Love you all!