#it also doesn’t help that I’ve been dizzy for the last few hours so I feel like I was just trash at practicum today

[scooprtroopr]

guess who has two thumbs and is very clearly at the start of a depressive episode but also has to finish out this semester without totally breaking down…

[talkfastromance4]

nothin' but love for you--Luke&Lily oneshot

Word count: 3.8k (also unedited so if there are errors oops)

Warnings: pregnancy talk

Enjoy! Feedback is always welcome!

•••

You and Luke have planned to tell everyone about the pregnancy at the end of February and ever since you told him he’s become more affectionate and helpful around the house and the kids (which seems impossible). He doesn’t even let you lift the laundry basket because he doesn’t want you to strain yourself.

“Our anniversary is coming up soon,” he mentions one night in bed. His fingers are rubbing and massaging your lower back as you’re situated between his long legs. The kids have been in bed for a few hours after a double feature of Moana and Encanto.

“I know…oh, there Luke,” you groan when he rubs at a certain spot. You feel him smile against your hair. “What should we do?”

“Do you want to know my original plan or the revised one?”

“Can I know both?” you ask then give it some thought, “why is there a revised one?”

“Because the original plan was before I knew about this little bud,” he pokes the side of your belly. “And it involved flying.”

“To where?” you sigh, loving the rotation of his fingers.

Your doctor recommended you stay home and in the area for this pregnancy considering how the last one went. You and Luke were quick to agree not wanting to repeat a fainting episode like in Disney.

“I don’t want to tell you,” he chuckles.

“Please, Luke?” you crane your neck towards his face and bring his mouth to yours.

“We were going to go to the Philippines,” he explains on your lips, each word a kiss. “We were going to go to museums, tours of mansions and experience the beauty of the land and the people…skinny dipping.”

“Mm,” you hum kissing him once more, your fingers latching onto his curls. “That does sound nice. What’s the revised edition?”

“I convinced Ash and KayKay to babysit while I took you to dinner and a movie. Your choice on everything.”

“I choose everything? You spoil me too much,” you smile and he wraps his arms around you, his thumb rubbing at the sides of your breasts through the nightgown you have on. “What about Valentine's Day?”

“That involves the kids. We’ll make heart-shaped pizzas and our own chocolate covered strawberries. Then maybe watch a movie before we put them to bed,” he kisses your cheek. His breath tickles your ear.

“Sounds like a nice cozy night in,” you hum dragging his fingers over and below your grown belly. “What will happen when we’re alone?”

“We’ll go to bed.”

“And?” You hedge, his fingers graze under your nightgown, tickling the skin of your lower stomach.

“I’ll give you a foot massage.”

“And then?” your voice shakes as he teases his finger over your clothed core.

“Damn, you’re wet already, lovie? I’ve barely touched you,” his voice is gruff in your ear.

“I’m pregnant, you know how much my libido is…heightened,” you squeak and rest your head against his shoulder. A small moan slips out as Luke presses onto your clit.

“Love your moans,” he continues to rub at you in circular motions.

You open your legs a little wider and he slips his hand underneath your underwear. He teases a long finger up your slit, coaxing soft whimpers from your mouth. Your body becomes hot and when he kisses your neck you can’t help but lift your hips into his palm.

“There’s my girl…gonna make you feel good, yeah?”

He talks you through it and because of your heightened hormones, you cum on his fingers and he silences your salacious moans with a firm kiss. His tongue is hushing your noises and your whole body is in a tizzy then you’re left panting against him.

You watch through half lidded eyes as he slowly brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean with a satisfied moan.

“I can’t wait,” you whisper.

***

Thankfully you haven’t felt all that dizzy this time around but your cravings have been prominent and a little crazy. For two weeks all you’ve wanted were french fries and chocolate ice cream with chocolate sprinkles. If you didn’t have the chocolate sprinkles, you cried for hours until Luke finally found some. You wanted everything related to potatoes and chocolate.

You’d dip the fries in your chocolate shake. You’d make a potato chip and M&M sandwich. Salty and sweet was definitely your forte and then you started to become more and more tired.

“Mama, are you sick?” Lily asks the day before your anniversary. She came home from school to find you laying on the couch with a migraine cap on your head, it was ice cold and helped alleviate the pain in your head.

“I just have a headache, honey,” you assure her. “What did you do at school today?”

When it was time for your anniversary date you tried to give yourself a pep talk to stay awake for the whole night. Luke noticed how heavy your eyes were as you settled into the car after dinner, your head immediately falling back onto the seat.

“I think we should call it a night, lovie,” Luke says once he’s in the seat next to you.

“No! No, I want to go see our movie,” you sit up a little straighter but he places a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You could barely keep your head up while we ate our dessert,” he smiles, “it’s fine, really. I’ll still rub your feet.”

“Okay,” you give in all too easily.

Lily and Posy are still awake when you come home, they show you the anniversary cards they made you with Ashton and KayKay and the gift they got you. It was a painting of their footprints overlapping each other. Lily’s was pink, Posy’s were purple and Oliver’s were red. Lily wrote around their feet ‘Happy Anniversary mama and daddy, Love, Lily, Po and Oli.’

“Unca Ash helped paint our feet! It tickled,” Posy told you excitedly.

“I even had them paint mine just for fun,” Ashton smiles holding up a green foot.

“Do you like it?” Lily asks hugging your waist.

“We love it, this is so special,” you kiss her head.

“We’ll hang it right in our room,” Luke kisses Posy and she hugs him tightly then yawns into his neck. “Okay, let’s say goodnight to Unca Ash and Aunt Kay so you can get to bed, bug.”

Luke helps the girls get ready for bed and you give Ashton and KayKay a hug goodbye.

“How come you guys came home so early?” KayKay asks.

“Oh, um, I wasn’t feeling all that well after dinner,” you lie and force yourself not to touch your belly. You still had your big coat on but the couple exchanged a look.

“Okay, well, get some rest,” KayKay kisses your cheek. “And Happy Anniversary.”

“Thank you.”

“Use protection,” Ashton teases with a wink and they head outside the door.

“Too late for that,” you mutter with a small chuckle.

You remove your coat and slip off your shoes. Just as you’re about to take the first step up the stairs, Luke rushes down to grab your hands to help you.

“Do you need help?” he asks when you turn on the bathroom door.

“I’m good,” you shake your head.

You weren’t.

Five minutes later Luke found you asleep on the toilet. He helped you out of your clothes and into your nightgown. Then he removed your make-up and did your skincare routine, his fingers gentle as they massaged your face oil and lotion over your cheeks. He helped you get into bed and covered you with the comforter and a kiss to your nose.

You watch him move about the room as he gets ready for bed and your eyes slowly start to close. You have no idea where this bout of sleepiness came from but it was winning you over.

Your eyes flash open (when did they close?) when Luke climbs into bed next to you. Once he’s settled and shuts off the light, you scoot over to rest your head on his chest.

“I’m sorry I ruined our night.”

“You didn’t ruin a thing,” he says tickling up and down your back. “You usually get tired this time of the pregnancy and I should’ve remembered that.”

“But it’ll be harder for us to spend alone time together once the new baby comes,” you feel tears spike in your eyes. “And we still have to get the crib and stuff set up. We’ll have to rearrange Oliver’s room or try and find a new house–”

“Hey, shh, shh, lovie it’ll all be okay,” he hushes holding you close. “We always find time for each other. After we tell everybody, we’ll get started on Oliver’s room and you know Crystal has a good eye on real estate. We’ll make everything work out, I promise.”

He kisses your forehead and you relax at his assurances.

“Thank you for dealing with me when I’m like this.”

“It’s my job, through thick and thin, better or worse, sickness and in health, in good times and bad–”

“Are you repeating your vows to me?” you giggle into his neck.

“Maybe, but I can sing them to you too if you’d like.”

“I would like that, and so would the baby.”

“Yeah this high, high love that you give to me, is dripping down my hands like honey, it’s all I’m missing…You give me something good, just give me something good.”

***

You were more lively when Valentine’s Day rolled out. You and Luke helped Lily and Posy make their Valentine’s for their classmates. Lily made one extra special for Roman and they loved making their own pizzas. Oliver even smeared his hands in the sauce on his little pizza. Before your next ultrasound you were taking him to get his eyes checked and hopefully he wouldn’t need his glasses anymore.

“Miss Gretchen says we’re going to watch movies and decorate our own cookies at school tomorrow!” Posy exclaims in excitement as she watches Luke cut her pizza into slices.

“What movie are you going to watch?” Luke asks.

“Snoopy’s Valentine’s Day.”

“What are you doing tomorrow, my sweet?” Luke looks at Lily who just fed Oliver a piece of pizza after blowing on it to cool off.

“I think we’re watching The Little Rascals,” she says. “And we’re playing games, too.”

You had a little more pep in your step as you decorated the house for Valentine’s Day. you bought a bunch of red heart-shaped balloons to hang along one wall in the kitchen and Luke even bought sparkling pink juice (fake wine) to have for dinner.

There were props and a bunch of pink and red roses scattered all over the house. You couldn’t wait for the girls to come home and enjoy the little festivities. After dropping the girls off at school, Luke gave you his gift which was a glass rose in a stand that had your wedding date engraved in the base. It was also a music box so when you pushed the button on the side, it played your song. It was beautiful and timeless and it definitely made you cry.

Your gift to Luke were three new satin shirts from the designer he loved so much in Italy. His initials were embroidered in the tag as well.

“These are incredible, lovie,” he kisses your cheek, “thank you. I’ll have to wear these the next time I’m onstage.”

You pause and stare at each other, you hadn’t had that conversation yet of what the next tour and album will look like after this baby is born. Luke has made sure to keep you in the loop as always and since Michael and Crystal have their hands full with Chloe and Maddox, the guys more or less agreed on a small hiatus, or at least a slower process of getting the next album out.

You were all in new chapters of your life and enjoying every moment of it, but you were so thankful to be in the same book with each other. Luke let slip that Calum was thinking of proposing to Rayna over the summer when they went on a trip to Australia.

When the girls are home, you show them the rose Luke got you and they’re completely transfixed. Posy says it’s like the one from Beauty and the Beast. Lily and Posy loved the small photoshoot you had as a family, Sarah lent you an old camera of hers to use.

It was a fun evening with your family making food and then watching movies on the couch until they fell asleep. Oliver always fell asleep snuggled in your arms and Posy was sprawled across Luke’s lap, her arms and feet in different directions.

“Time to put our little cupids to bed,” Luke smiles at each child lovingly. He went back to the main menu on the tv and lifted Posy in his arms. He stretched over to Lily and spoke softly to her until she woke up.

She bumped against Luke’s body as he helped her up the stairs and into her room to change into pajamas. Posy was limp in Luke’s arms and still had her eyes closed as he changed her.

“She’s just like you,” Luke always mused, referring to the times you were a little too drunk or too tired to change yourself.

After you settle Oliver into his crib you check on Lily and her eyes are on you as you enter her room.

“All set, sweetheart?” you ask sitting on her bed.

“Mom?”

“Yeah?” you ask making sure she’s tucked in. Your ears perked at her use of ‘mom.’ She usually calls you that when she has something on her mind.

“Are you having another baby?”

You stop your motions of tucking her in and meet her eyes (Cory’s eyes) and you know she knows.

“How’d you know?” you ask and she sits up a little on her pillow.

“You’ve been eating weird things and have been really tired. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You sigh.

“Luke and I wanted to wait until the end of the month to tell you and Posy. Remember how I was pregnant last summer and then I…I lost the baby?” she nods, her fingers playing with her pink bunny’s ears. “Well, I wanted to make sure this baby was okay before we told you.”

“Is the baby okay?”

“This baby is perfectly fine,” you smile, “I see the doctor every other week to make sure.”

“Can I come next time? To see what it looks like?”

“Sure sweetheart,” you smile. “How do you feel about having another brother or sister?”

She chews on her lip staring at her pink painted nails then she smiles.

“I’m excited. I like being a big sister.”

“You’re the best big sister,” you start crying again because of how sweet your girl is.

“Don’t cry mama,” she scoots closer and gives you a tight hug.

“They’re happy tears, I love you so much, Lily.”

“Po’s out, how’s my sweet doing–what’s going on?” Luke asks entering her room.

“She figured out I’m pregnant,” you explain and his eyes widen.

“She did? How?”

“Because she’s so smart,” you praise and Lily giggles.

“I already knew that,” Luke smiles and pulls up one of her small chairs at her desk. “What do you think about it?”

“I’m happy, but…” she glances between you and Luke, “I think we need a bigger house.”

The three of you laugh together and promise a new house is in the future soon. Lily promises she won’t say anything to anyone, lets out a big yawn and you leave her to go to sleep.

“Well, that’s one person down,” Luke jokes. “Lily is so intuitive.”

“She gets that from Cory.”

“She gets it from you, too.”

***

When you decide to tell Posy you make a day out of it towards the end of February on a Saturday while Lily is at Cory’s. She was fine with you telling Posy by herself. You go to Fun World as a family and pick up cupcakes for all of you to eat. You’re sitting by the firepit at home eating your sweet treats and Luke wipes away frosting from Oliver’s cheek before he speaks.

“Po, your mama and I have something to tell you.”

“What?”

“Well, in the summer I’m going to have another baby,” you say. Posy’s brows furrow slightly (a trait from Luke) as she thinks and processes over your words and then she gasps.

“Will it be twins like Chloe and Maddox?!” she kneels up on her chair, purple frosting clinging to the corner of her mouth.

“No, honey, just one baby,” you laugh.

“And we’ll visit just like Olly?”

You and Luke exchange a look.

“No, lovebug,” Luke says, “I don’t think we’ll be at the hospital like your brother.”

“I hope it’s a boy,” she responds happily and goes back to her cupcake.

Later, while you’re putting dishes in the dishwasher Luke comes up to you.

“You’ve been quiet since we told Posy about the baby. What’s going on?”

“Just thinking…”

“About?”

“My pregnancy with Lily and Posy were perfectly fine. The worst part of it was the morning sickness so I don’t know why it was so hard with Oliver. And then the miscarriage happened but this one…” you touch your belly, “this one is hardly difficult at all. Except for the crazy emotions and cravings.”

“Not every pregnancy is exactly the same, Dr. Wilson told us that.”

“What if something does happen between now and my due date? What if I go into early labor and we do have to be in the hospital?”

“We’ll do what we did with Oliver, be there and listen to the doctors. But, we won’t leave Lily and Posy as much as we did. Whatever happens,” he places his hands on your waist, staring into your eyes, “we’ll handle it together just like we do with everything else.”

***

When you go pick up Lily from Cory and Ella’s that Sunday you and Luke decided to tell them the news of the new baby. You usually have dinner with them and catch up with each other on what’s going on.

“Tell them the news,” Ella smiles at Cory grabbing his hand on the table.

“What news?” you look between the both of them.

“I got a call from a buddy of mine, y/n you know him, Patrick, and he asked if I wanted to be an instructor at the National Guard and I said yes,” Cory explains.

“What! Cory, that’s amazing!” you exclaim. “When do you start?”

“A month, I have to go through some classes of my own but they should be pretty easy.”

“That’s incredible, good job mate,” Luke claps him on the back and Ella is beaming at him.

Luke looks to you and holds your hand in his lap giving you a nod. You heave a big sigh.

“We have some news of our own,” you begin. Cory and Ella look at you expectantly. “I’m seven months pregnant.”

“What?!”

“Y/n! Congratulations!” Ella rises from her seat to give you a hug. “I thought you looked like you were glowing when you walked in.”

Luke and Cory shake hands then he comes by to hug you as well, giving you a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Congratulations,” Cory smiles and sits down. “Why did you wait so long to tell us?”

“We…”

“Well, you saw the magazine article,” Luke says. “We’ve been through a lot, I didn’t even know until Christmas.”

“And everything is going okay?” Ella asks.

“So far so good,” you nod rubbing at your belly and Ella gasps. “Strong heartbeat, a little on the low side for weight for Dr. Wilson said we’re okay.”

“That’s so wonderful,” Ella smiles, “and you hid that belly really well!”

“How’re the kids handling it?”

“Great, Posy is excited and Lily wants to come to the ultrasound appointments.”

“Do you have room at the house?” Cory asks.

“We agreed we’ll start looking after the baby’s born,” Luke says, “we want to make sure y/n and the baby are healthy first.”

“But we definitely need a bigger house,” you laugh. “Four kids and a dog is a lot.”

***

When you tell the boys you’re all together at the house for a nice hangout. Andy and Sarah came by after Valentine’s Day to do a little bit of a photoshoot to announce the new baby. You had them printed on cards and sealed them in red envelopes.

So after dinner and before dessert, you gather them all out in the backyard. Lily and Posy had made cupcakes for them and Posy sat on Ashton’s lap telling him she made one special for him.

Michael and Crystal sat the twins in the little playpen they brought over with Oliver so they could play and interact with each other safely. You couldn’t believe their first birthday is coming up soon.

“Before you eat your cupcakes, Lily has something to pass around,” you say.

Lily hands out the envelopes to each couple and she plops down next to Calum and Rayna.

“Can we open them?” Ashton asks.

“Did we all win a trip?” Michael laughs.

“Open them,” Luke laughs nuzzling close to you, he kisses your ear.

They tear through the envelops, ‘oohing’ and ‘ahhing’ at the cute photos of the girls.

“Wait, is that–”

“You’re pregnant?!” Calum’s mouth drops open.

“I’m pregnant,” you nod.

They’re all suddenly in front of you giving hugs and kisses shooting off question after question. You pull your dress tighter to your body so they can see you’re overgrown belly.

“When are you due?”

“How are you doing?”

“How’d you keep this secret for so long?”

“She’s due end of May or early June,” Luke says. “y/n and baby are both healthy and strong and y/n wanted to wait until after six months.”

“After what happened with Oliver and then the miscarriage…I didn’t want to get my hopes up,” you explained.

“This is such great news,” Ashton says, “another little baby!”

“Quite the babymaker, man,” Calum grins squeezing Luke’s shoulder.

“Yeah, you’re three away from having a singing group like the Von Trapp’s,” Ashton says.

“I don’t think we’ll have that many,” Luke shakes his head.

“Yeah, after this one we’re done,” you giggle holding onto your belly. “Oh, she’s kicking, who wants to feel?”

Crystal volunteers and you guide her hand to the spot. She smiles warmly.

“I’ve missed that feeling,” she says, “so you know it’s a girl?”

“I think it’s a girl, I’ve had a lot of the same cravings and symptoms as I did with the girls.”

“We won’t know for sure until it’s birth time.”

They’re all so happy for you and enjoy the cupcakes while asking questions and gazing at the photos you took. You shiver a little and Luke pulls you against his body, one hand on your belly.

“Getting tired?”

“A little, but I’m okay,” you smile. “You?”

“I got nothin’ but love for you, lovie,” he smiles giving you a kiss. You lace your fingers with his on your belly, your rings clinking together.

Taglist: @calumance  @in-superbloom @calpalirwin @karajaynetoday @wiiildflowerrr @sunshineeeluke @littledrummeraussie @suchalonelysunflower @hoodhoran @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt @sunshineeashton @ashtonsunflower​ @mymindwide​ @itjustkindahappenedreally @seanna313 @mulletcal @pandaxnienke @celestialams @in-a-world-of-fandoms @blairscott @writersdare

[littleperilstories]

The Prince of Thieves: When You Play With Fire, Someone's Bound to Get Burned

Mood Boards | Chapter Titles | Also on A03!

Warnings: Fantasy-esque prison setting, infection, infected wounds, mention of abusive parent / physical abuse, mention of nausea (nothing happens), betrayal

THIS CHAPTER + THIS CHAPTER + today's chapter all have their origins in Whumptober Day 15 (lies, new scars, breathing through the pain), and while a surprising amount of the original prose stayed in, the actual details play out differently. Fun!

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Word count: 3080 || Approx reading time: 12 mins

When You Play With Fire, Someone's Bound to Get Burned

Teaser: I wish I could see her in brighter light, actually see the colour of her eyes as she watches me with worry on her face. Yellow torchlight, deceiving and dim, reveals so few of her features. All obscured by darkness, except the anxiousness she is not bothering to hide.

Will

“Fox!”

A voice, calling my name that is not my name from deep within inky darkness.

“Fox!”

I wish they’d stop, whoever they are.

“Fox, please, you’re scaring me.”

It is those last three words that catch me, sinking hooks into my skin and dragging me upwards from sleep. Opening my eyes reveals the now-familiar crack in the ceiling of my cell. It swims and dances a little.

“Fox.”

When I turn my head, I see Bree on her feet, manacled arm stretched taut behind her. She’s as far from the wall as the chain will allow, staring at me.

“What’s got you so worked up?” She looks distressed. I can’t quite puzzle out the reason.

“For heaven’s sake,” she says. “I’ve been trying to wake you.”

“Why?”

She points to the food and water someone must have dropped off while I was asleep. “You’ve been sleeping for hours. When was the last time you ate or drank?”

“I dunno.”

She gestures again, as if I didn’t understand the first time. “You need to finish all of that.”

The sight of it makes my stomach turn. I’m not sure I can even start it, let alone finish it. “You’re bossy, anyone ever tell you that?”

“Please,” she says. “You need to drink. And eat.”

God, I’m cold. Is the chill from outside somehow leaking into the cells? How long have we been down here? Did I fall asleep and wake up in midwinter? “You really woke me up for that?”

The hurt is gone from her face almost as quickly as it appears, settling into unbudging resolve. “I’m trying to help you.”

She reminds me of Colette, sharp-eyed and serious and annoyingly unwilling to back down when she thinks she’s right.

Sitting up ushers more chill to wrap around me like a bitter wind. “God, it’s fucking f-freezing in here.”

She doesn’t confirm whether this is true or if it’s just me. “Fox. Please.”

“I’m really n-not h-hungry.”

Is that me? Am I the one who’s stuttering like that? Shit. What the hell is the matter with me?

She doesn’t speak again or even sit down to give her stretched-out arm a rest until I give into her glare and take a sip of water. “You can’t just…not eat.” Her voice cracks.

“You sound like my b-b—” Fuck. Fuck. I clamp my mouth closed, catching the tip of my tongue between my front teeth and making it bloom with pain. What am I doing? I almost said, You sound like my brother.

Shifting back a little to put more slack in the chain on her arm, she winces slightly and runs her fingers over what must be bruised, irritated skin. “You’re not well. At all.”

The stupidity, the fucking obviousness, of this statement makes me choke. When I finish coughing, she’s gone white, pulling on the chain again.

“See?”

“It’s not a real cough,” I explain. “Relax. I’m f-fine.”

Fine except I’m cold and exhausted and yes, in pain, but that’s not so unusual these days, and not hungry and a little dizzy and…

Fuck.

“Fox.” I wish I could see her in brighter light, actually see the colour of her eyes as she watches me with worry on her face. Yellow torchlight, deceiving and dim, reveals so few of her features. All obscured by darkness, except the anxiousness she is not bothering to hide. “Let me see your back.”

“No.” I don’t want to know what’s lurking on my skin where I cannot see. If there’s infection there, I’d rather just let it kill me.

“Please.”

“There’s n-nothing you can do about it.” Michaelson made sure of that when he tethered her to the back wall. Perhaps, even more than that, I don’t want her to do anything about it.

I hate the way she blinks at me, like she’s trying to hide tears. Why should she cry? Die in here, die out there, it’s all the same.

“I couldn’t wake you up at first,” she whispers. I have to strain to hear her. “I’m scared you’re dying.”

Am I dying? Between the shoulder, the back, and now the burns on my arms, maybe something has wormed its way in and is now eating me from the inside out. Maybe…

Maybe that’s for the best.

She’s still staring. What the fuck am I supposed to say to her? I wrap my arms around my knees, trying to catch any warmth still left in my body.

“You’re shivering.”

“Y-yes.”

“Fox, please eat. I don’t—I can’t—” She’s fighting really damn hard not to let those tears fall. “Don’t leave me here alone.”

Her eyes widen and a few unintelligible sounds fall from her mouth like raindrops, as if she didn’t mean to say the last part. “I— I’m sorry— That’s selfish—”

It is.

It is fucking selfish. No one drags her out of her cell, smacks her around, brings her back with burns or bruises or cuts on her skin. Not that I want them to, but… It’s me, it’s always me, always me coming back and seeing her curled up by the wall, shivering and looking angry or upset but otherwise fucking unharmed, and she doesn’t want me to die and leave her here alone?

“It’s not up to me,” I tell her. “I’ve s-seen my execution notice. Already—already printed.” I swallow, my mouth suddenly gone dry. “Bulwell…showed it to me.”

This time, she can’t help it. A tear, shimmering in the flickering light, glides down her cheek, followed by another. “I didn’t know—You didn’t tell m—”

“I know.” I want to be angrier than I am. She has no right to wish for me to live so I can keep her company through the darkest of her days when my days are even darker. But I have to believe that it isn’t only selfishness fuelling that wish.

That maybe when she looks at me, she doesn’t see a stupid, reckless, moronic, fucked-up son of a whore like the constables do, but something else. Someone else. Someone more.

She has no right to beg me to stay alive for her, but she does it anyway.

I squeeze my eyes closed, because if I don’t, I’m going to be crying, too.

“I don’t want you to die,” she says. Her voice pricks through the darkness that I know will drag me back into unconsciousness if I let it. “You’re a good person.”

When I open my eyes again, she’s again straining against her chain. Her arm must hurt, and still she tries to close the distance between us, even though it is impossible. “You d-don’t know me.”

“You saved my life,” she says. “You had no reason to get involved that night, but you did.”

“Stop bringing that up like it means anything.”

“It does fucking mean something!” The snapping of the chain rings through the air. “I’d have been dead long ago if it weren’t for you! Nothing but a half-naked, frozen corpse—” She chokes into silence.

Shit. “I didn’t mean—”

“And the first time,” she goes on, not letting me finish, “the first night we met, you were with Sp—with her, and you whispered in my ear, you said it would be all right, you tried to make me feel less scared and you didn’t have to do that. I’d just stolen from your friend and we didn’t know each other at all, but you made sure I knew she wasn’t going to kill me.”

I’m blinking again, but this time it’s not to fight back tears. “What?”

“I know you don’t remember,” she says, “and that’s fine, it was a long time ago, but I do.”

Trying to recall whatever the hell she’s talking about is like swimming through a murky lake. “I don’t—”

“There was one other time,” she whispers. “Last summer. You never saw me. I wanted—I wanted to thank you then, for saving me, I mean, but you were across the market. I recognized you. You weren’t… Your face wasn’t covered.”

Last summer… Market…

“A child stole something from one of the stalls.” Finally, she drifts back again, letting her arm fall. “The vendor, he—he was about to beat that poor boy.”

Oh. I remember, I think. Geoff, I’m pretty sure, was there that day. He smacked me on the back of the head for being a reckless idiot, but he was smiling while he did it. And he didn’t go running to rat me out to Jamie, which was enough to tell me he wasn’t really mad.

“I saw you,” she says. “I don’t know how you did it, but you somehow swiped something else right from his stall and convinced him it was the one that boy stole.”

“That s-sounds very dishonest. Couldn’t have been m-me.”

“It was you,” she insists. “It was you, and you saved that boy from being beaten in front of everyone that day. And you sent him off with the bread, or whatever it was, so he wouldn’t go hungry.”

“All that fuss for a loaf of bread? Maybe I just d-didn’t like that vendor and I was trying to piss him off.”

“You’re an idiot.” Relaxing a little, she crosses her arms, fingers back where they were before, gently massaging the skin on her shackled wrist. “I may not know you well, but I know you’re a good man. And I told you—I haven’t met many.”

Despite everything—how much my body hurts, how truly rotten I feel, how if I don’t die in this cell I’m going to die in the execution square—I smile.

“If you’re c-calling me an idiot,” I manage, “then I guess you know s-something about me, at least.”

She laughs, and in the darkness, it’s almost like a light. “Don’t give up. Not yet. Please.”

Truly, I am not sure how much choice I have.

“Please.”

With a groan, I tear off a piece of bread, even though  the sight of it still makes me feel ill. “Bossy and annoying.”

The ghost of a smile tugs at her lips. “I prefer persistent.”

I make it halfway through the bread before I have to stop. I have a feeling I will bring it up at some point. Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply, trying to settle my stomach.

“Fox?”

“I’m fine.” In. Out. “I’m just tired.”

Of course she doesn’t believe me.

“Don’t sleep yet,” she says. “Drink more water.”

I do as she says.

“Talk to me.” I’m still sitting up, but I nearly drop the cup after nodding off and jerking suddenly awake. “Keep talking. Tell me a story. It’s your turn.”

Bree doesn’t argue. “What kind of story do you want?”

“Tell me about you. Where did you come from? Why’d you join IA?”

The questions make her flinch. “That’s not a happy story.”

I gesture to our surroundings. “You don’t say.”

She smiles at the sarcasm, but her face is wan. “You really want to know?”

“Yes.” If only just to keep me awake a little longer.

She takes a long breath. “I grew up rich.”

“Lucky you.”

“Thanks.” The word drips with insincerity. “It didn’t last. I was eleven, I suppose. When…business turned bad. My father… He lost everything. And so did we.”

I nod. Jamie once worked for a family that went through the same thing.

“My father was always…horrible.” Her voice shakes slightly. “There was never a time when he was, well, kind.”

Good people. I haven’t met many of those.

“But he was so much worse after that. Humiliated, I suppose, by whatever terrible business decisions made him lose it all. And when you’re already a royal prick…”

I’m glad I can’t stomach anything else, because if I had just taken a sip of water, I’d have spit it out.

“I’m s-sorry,” I say. “It’s not funny.”

She watches me without irritation. Still concerned. “It’s all right. He was a royal prick. The first in a long string of horrible people who thought they should…”

Her voice trails off.

Suddenly, nothing she’s saying seems funny. “He beat you.” I don’t know how I know, but she confirms it with a nod.

“And my mother, yes.”

If I had more energy, I’d be fucking livid. “Fucking bastard.” My dad, before he died, would get mad sometimes too. But never, never, would he have ever laid a hand on me or Jamie or Ma. “If I thought I was getting out of here, I’d offer to kick his ass for you.”

She snorts. “No need. He’s dead.” The words melt into a sigh. “I remember one day in particular. The day he let all the servants go. He turned them out on the street.”

My skin prickles, and this time it is not because of the chills wracking my body.

“So many of them wept.” Rattling fills the air as she shifts again, drawing her knees to her chest and hugging them tightly. “Grown men, grown women. They had nowhere to go.”

Dreamy darkness slithers toward me as she talks. “There was one boy. One of the youngest who worked for us. I don’t remember what he looked like. Isn’t that awful?” She gives a humourless laugh. “If I ran into him on the street, I wouldn’t know him. But I remember that he shouted at my father, tried to demand that everyone get the wages they were owed. He was so angry. And so sad.”

No, I think. It can’t be.

I know this story. I’ve heard it before.

“I… I was so stupid. Naive.” She shakes her head, decade-old anger spilling into the motion. “I ran out, shouted at him, told my father he couldn’t be so cruel. I don’t know how old that boy was, fourteen, sixteen? Somewhere around there. Young.” She bites her lip. “James. That was his name.”

Breathing has become, quite suddenly, very difficult.

“I watched my father fling that boy…”

Into a snowdrift. It’s no longer Bree’s voice telling the story, but Jamie’s. The ice shards sliced into my skin. I found cuts all on my hands and face later.

She was the girl, then, who tried to stop the master of the house from turning my brother out onto the street. Just as she knew me from afar before she ever gave me her name, this girl is one I know only from story, from legend: the little girl with reed-thin limbs and a shrill voice who begged her father not to sentence Jamie to a life of destitution.

“I think I knew even then.” Her voice. No longer shrill and childish, now soft and weary and sad. “I knew I could never be like my father. That when the chance came to do something better with my life—something good—I would take it.”

I don’t know how Colette finds them. How she knows which folks, in their hearts, have this desire to do good in the world. How Colette found her.

Perhaps I’m glad she did.

“Father died,” she says flatly. “My mother was already dead by then, and when he was gone…” She swallows. Hard. “I was almost free.”

“Almost?” I’m surprised by how far away my own voice sounds.

“I was to be married.” Now she grows sharp, all blade-edges and knife-points. “I chose differently. I ran away, and I lived on my own for months. And then Spider… She… When the chance to do something good for people who had nothing, when that opportunity finally presented itself… That little wooden coin…” She smiles. Sadly. “It changed my life.”

I want to tell her that I probably was the one who whittled that coin. One of the few jobs Jamie was actually right to trust me with.

I want to ask her why she ran away from her fiancé.

I want to tell her I’m almost—almost— glad she got busted by Colette’s pickpocket trap and got tapped to be a runner, even though it led her here.

I want to tell her I’m glad she trusted me with her sad story even though I cannot tell her mine.

I’m so fucking tired.

I don’t realize I’ve fallen asleep, or maybe passed out cold, until I jerk awake, nausea pressing upon my tongue and stomach. I want to move, give myself a chance to retch if it comes to that, but I’m dizzy even though I’m lying still.

Muddled thoughts pool together, sluggish trickles in a drought-stricken river.

Her. It was her. Way back then.

I feel sick.

My shoulder hurts.

She knows Jamie’s name, but she doesn’t know she knows it.

Those burns are fucking driving me mad.

My back hurts.

I’m going to throw up.

Everything hurts.

It was her.

Just breathe.

Her voice cuts through the mud. “Tell him I’m ready to talk.”

It takes me a long time—too long—to understand what she means. Who she wants to speak to.

It’s only when he arrives, his body blocking out the maddening torchlight, that I start to comprehend.

“I want to make a deal,” Bree Cooper says.

Panic fights into my throat. No. I need to sit up, stand up. Stop her. Don’t.

“What do you think you have that you could possibly offer me, Miss Cooper?” Hatchett leans on the bars of her cell, arms crossed, watching her struggle against the chain that leashes her in place.

“Why don’t we have a conversation and you can find out?”

Move! I give my body an order. It does not obey.

Her voice is smooth as butter, slick and oily like I have never heard it before. “Don’t you want to know if I’m bluffing?”

Don’t.

This cannot be the same girl who tried to help Jamie all those years ago.

James. That was his name.

Does she know? Has she known, somehow, this whole time? Is my brother’s name the information she will trade for her freedom?

“Don’t,” I rasp. It’s the only word my tongue can form. She glances at me, but she doesn’t say anything. Her eyes are chips of ice, slicing into bare skin from the belly of a snowdrift.

Maybe she’s been lying to me this whole time.

They were right, I realize. Everyone who has ever said I was an idiot. Stupid. Brainless, reckless, impulsive, naive. They were right.

I know you’re a good man.

No. All I am is a bloody fool.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Tagging: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @gala1981, @kixngiggles .

[xmcu-fietro]

Not to be that bitch, I wish you would write a fic where… something happens that you've already announced. Because those ideas sound great!

you and me both xD I’m dying to actually finish the stuff I've started, it just takes so long to actually finish.

I can definitely post some snippets here though (see below the cutoff)! Both of these fics have summaries on my WIP list. Also, some of this may be a little confusing without the context of the surrounding scene.

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

from Nobody

-

His fast metabolism hasn’t quite cut through the dizziness from the alcohol: “What?”

“I was asking whether you wanted a movie or a game, or something else.” Erik begins putting the emergency supplies back in their box. 

“Nothing. I’ll just go to my room.” Peter mumbles, keeping his eyes averted from Erik’s. 

“You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“Yeah, but…” he shrugs. “I don’t want to bother you.” 

“You’re supposed to bother me; I’m your father.”

“I’m dizzy.” Peter tries for a different excuse, leaning his head against his palm and letting his eyes close. “I need to…to just chill out for a bit.” 

He hears the chair next to him creak lightly against the wood floor as Erik stands up. A gentle hand brushes his forehead, checking his temperature before reaching to cup the side of Peter’s head.

“Alright, Peter. Just come to the living room and you can lay down.”

Peter keeps his eyes closed, biting his bottom lip to keep it from trembling. When he doesn’t respond, he hears Erik mumble something as he pries Peter’s hand away from his head. He didn’t even realize he’d been digging his nails into his scalp, but there’s trace amounts of blood under a few of his nails. 

“Please come rest.” Erik tries again, his voice soft. “I’ll go get you some water. It’ll help you sober up.” 

Peter complies, letting his father lead him to the couch where he wraps a quilt around him before rustling his hair. Peter wants to protest, but all of his fight was sapped out of him when his dad found him with no way to hide what he’d done to himself. Erik turns their electric fireplace on with a twitch of his index finger on his way out to grab a large glass of water. He returns, having also gotten some rugelach they had in the pantry.

Peter holds the glass with both hands, his fingers shaking. “Thanks,” he tries to say, but it comes out as more of a rough whisper. 

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

from 'Til Death

-

Unfortunately, jumping out of the attic window isn’t an option. And yes, Ralph has tried. He has a bruise on his shoulder to prove it.

Ralph has been stuck in the attic ever since Monica escaped, and apparently Agatha’s got some kind of barrier around his attic man-cave because the door won’t open and the windows seem cemented shut.

His flip-phone’s dead, he can’t phase through walls or vibrate glass like he normally can to escape, and everyone else is somewhere far away from him having some kind of show-down while he uselessly sits on the couch bouncing his leg. Also, the whole “double mind-control” thing from Wanda and Agatha has left him with some serious nausea and a growing headache. Maybe it’s best he sits this one out. 

At least I’ve got music up here, right?

Ralph almost hopes Agatha wins just so she’ll come back and free him. No one else would think to look for him there, so there is some chance he’ll die stuck in this attic. 

Maybe that’s a bit drastic. But he should pick a really good song to die to, just in case. 

Time by Pink Floyd crackles on the record player as Ralph stares at the ceiling, watching the minutes tick away in a painfully slow fashion. He moves the needle back a couple of times just to hear the chorus again. 

Maybe an hour passes; the album’s played through twice, and as the third half of Eclipse starts, Ralph checks outside his window one last time. 

‘Eclipse’. It’s funny, the sun’s blocked from Wanda’s magic. How fitting.

He fixes the record once the final track ends, and as the bassline to Breathe (In The Air) kicks in he sees the red haze moving towards him, cutting through everything in its path. 

‘Oh shit.’ he thinks, slammed with a wave of red static. 

[appetitecomic]

I do wanna continue with this but i’ve genuinely been so demotivated to actually work on it, especially since i still haven’t figured out the entire story. so here’s a random lore drop.

(Catherine: David’s almost lover, beginning part; David: Victim. Living with Alice because he already relies on her for food and such; Alice: insane woman. Lives with David because she basically made him choose between this and homelessness.)

TW: topics of murder, cannibalism, drugging, implied s/a

——

After Catherine is brutally murdered and Alice makes David promise he wouldn’t tell anyone, they move in together. She wanted… a domestic life, i guess. It’s not real, anyway. They still work at the same office, only now, Alice has since been promoted for her hard work and now has even more of a grip onto David and the people he interacts with. She still has yet to physically hit him, so he, and everyone in the office assumes “It’s not that bad.”

She buzzes around his desk, keeping watch on him at all times. Anytime a coworker asks for help regardless of their gender, she tends to pull them away. But instead of the sweet, naive arm pulling, beckoning him to help her with the most mundane tasks (she already knew how to do them, she just always wants his attention)she just ends up helping the person themselves, glaring at David, because how dare he talk to someone without her permission.

It still doesn’t help. There’s always eye candy to drag him away, at least that’s what she thinks. He totally keeps looking at her. She keeps flirting with him. Does he even realize? Or does he and he just won’t tell me. I don’t understand, I’ve given him everything and he’s still unloyal. Why is he so unloyal?

But at the end of the day, they both return to their house without home charm. Alice cooks dinner again. She took special time with the meat, tenderly cutting it open, skinning it, putting just the right amount of ingredients to mask the smell of malice. He also notices she’s somehow always in the way of viewing the meat. Of course, he’d never dare coming up to her in the middle of cooking, especially with a knife in hand. That’d lose him a hand.

The anxiety keeps rising. Maybe he might be drugged again. His feet tap the floor impatiently and he begins chewing his nails. He feels dizzy. He hates being dizzy.

The kitchen smells rotten. His brain figures it’s the garbage. His gut is telling him it’s a sedative.

As usual, she hands him a bowl, and stares him down. That was her favorite habit. It scared the shit out of David and she got to watch him silently chew the bits and pieces of love she put into this dish. The stew looks different. She usually cooked stew. It’s all I really know how to cook anyway, she’d say with a too large grin.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Just enough to watch David swallow the last bit of porky flavored meat in his mouth. Her eyes lit up.

You don’t know how long I had to search for a meat like this. It took forever to chop her up. Good taste right?

I think you’d like the leg better anyway.

At that moment, he somehow knew what she meant. He almost threw up all over the counter they sat at. David had been punished. Only now he did it to himself. That also answers where the smell came from.

He spent hours at the toilet, trying to relieve his body from the sin he had just committed on someone he loved. He ate her fucking flesh. How do you deal with that?

Usually Alice would drag him out of there at some point, making sure the sedative settled in enough to do whatever she wanted. He couldn’t fight back anyway. But there was no sedative this time, and she let him puke out his guts in the bathroom. He had already suffered enough.

At least he didn’t get the eyeball piece.

[forever-rogue]

if you’re still taking requests for Bucky, can you do one from this quote if it sparks any inspiration: ‘when you realize you can tell someone your truth, when you can stand in front of them and show yourself and their response is “you’re safe with me” - that’s intimacy.’

A/N: please, this is so soft 🥺

Pairing: Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

A heavy sigh escaped soft lips as Bucky laid on the couch and stared at the ceiling. There was almost no sound in the room besides the rhythmic ticking of the aging clock on the wall, combined with the sounds wafting in from the open window, and the almost non-existent humming of his vibranium appendage. He reached his hand up to his chest to ground himself by touching the dog tags that had been his for way too many years now. A temporary moment of panic set into his bones when he realized there was nothing there, but revelation quickly dawned on him as he remembered that they were currently with you. The last he’d seen them, you were wearing them, the metallic silver tags safely nestled under the soft fabric of your t-shirt.

When he’d given them to you, a sign of his desire to call you his, among other things, he never actually expected that you’d wear them. The first time he’d spied you wearing them, along a casual outfit consisting of jeans and a t-shirt and sneakers, he’d almost short circuited. There was something about comforting knowing they were safe and sound in your possession now. They were yours now too - just like he was.

A gentle tugging lifted the corners of his mouth into the semblance of a smile. How foreign it still felt sometimes, the gentle feeling of blossoming happiness and knowing he was loved. Loved. What a strange and odd concept that was. He couldn’t remember the last another soul had told him they loved him besides in the most platonic sense. But the first time you’d whispered those words to him, so effortlessly, so easily, I love you, his whole world came to a screeching halt and he was sent into a wild spiral that left him speechless. Bucky hadn’t reciprocated your words then; but it wasn’t long after that he did. It had been a half shout, half declaration as you just grinned at him, pulling him against your lips and only letting him go when you were both breathless and dizzy.

He relaxed at the thought, settling against the pillow as he reminded himself to swim in happy memories, rather than drown in the ghosts of the past.

His phone vibrated against the glass top of the coffee table as it startled him out of his stupor, causing him to almost roll off the couch in surprise. He scrambled to grab the phone, and relaxed when he saw your name on the screen. Straightening himself up, he cleared his throat before answering, “hi sweetheart.”

“Bucky!” your excited voice on the other end of the line made his heart relax as he just imagined you bouncing around your small floral shop, making sure everything was perfect, “it’s about time you answered, old man. I’ve called you like three times! Did I disturb your afternoon nap, Barnes?”

“Hey, watch who you’re calling an old man,” he snorted as he stood up and stretched, surprised by how easily you were able to read him, “I got decades on you, kid, respect your elders.”

“Respect me when I’m right,” you grinned as he laughed lightly. How easily everything seemed to flow between the two of you; he’d never thought he could have anything like this again. Even once he’d left Wakanda and life slowly went back to a semblance of normality after the Blip, he still had a hard time trusting people; perhaps, more than anything else, he didn’t trust himself.

While he knew he was himself again, Bucky, and not the Winter Soldier, he still was never quite convinced that he wouldn’t ever go back. For so long he had been nothing but a killer, it was hard to believe that he could ever be fully himself again. So he’d closed himself off, steeled himself, despite the constant reassurance from the people around him that it was okay to let others in. He couldn’t trust himself - after so long...how could he? How was he just supposed to be able to pick the pieces and just be James again?

But he was learning, over time, slowly, bit by bit, that it was okay to let people in, okay to feel, and be okay and also not be okay. Sure, some days were hard, but the good days were good. And they were getting to become more and more frequent.

“Bucky? Hello?” you called his name from the other line, trying to get him to snap back into attention, “James? James Buchanan Barnes?”

“S-sorry,” his voice was soft and gentle for a moment, “I...yeah.”

“Yeah,” you teased softly, “zoning out again huh, my love? I know how you get. What are you thinking about, Bucky?”

“Nothing much,” he admitted, shrugging to himself despite the fact that you weren’t able to see him, “when are you off?”

“Whenever I want to be,” you reminded him, “I’m the boss now, remember? Why do you ask? Got some grand plans for us?”

“Nah,” he confessed, “just want to come and see you. Is it okay if I stop in? I’d come and bring you some flowers...but that would seem a little...on the nose.”

“Ahh, look at you,” he could practically hear you grinning, “very clever, aren’t you? Come and see me - it’s been slow so I might as well close up when you get here. Maybe we can go for a walk and get dinner?”

“Sounds great,” he agreed softly, “see you soon.”

“See you soon, Bucky.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

While you waited for Bucky to arrive, a brilliant idea popped into your head. You quickly grabbed a vase and started to gather some of the flowers that reminded you of him. It wasn’t long before you had a variety of them, neatly arranged and topped off with a bow, ready and waiting for him. He walked into your small shop, ready to announce himself but quickly found that he didn’t have to.You were perched up on the counter, swinging your legs back and forth as you tilted your head to the side and studied him with a small smile. He was dressed casually today, sporting a dark blue henley and a pair of well fitting jeans. His arm, intricate and beautifully designed golden and black vibranium, wasn’t on full display, nor was it completely hidden. Progress; a step in the right direction, albeit small. He’d get there when he’d get there and if that took another five years or fifty, you planned on being there for him.

“Hi James,” you popped off the counter and met him halfway, letting him wrap you up and envelope you in his warm, tight grasp. His arms, his body, was your favorite place to be. You never felt more safe and secure than when you were wrapped up in him, “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed me?” he chuckled as you just nodded, pouting lightly as he couldn’t help but kiss you softly, “it’s only been a few hours since we’ve seen each other.”

“I know,” you ran a hand through his dark hair, “but it doesn’t mean I can’t miss you, does it?”

“I suppose you’re right,” he agreed as you took his hand and pulled him over to the counter. Bucky dramatically rolled his eyes as he trailed after you. Your hand looked so small in his hand; delicate skin contrasted against harsh callouses as you gave him a squeeze of reassurance. Whatever hesitation or tension was left in his body seeped, replaced by a feeling of saccharine bliss, “what are you up to?”

“You always think I’m up to something,” standing in front of the flowers, you paused, studying his features before reaching up to tenderly cradle his face in your hands. Bucky, resilient and strong, turned into a puddle of mush and practical whimpers as you traced a delicate fingertip across his features, “perhaps this time you’re right.”

“Tell me then,” he turned his face, pressing a gentle kiss to your palm as you used your free hand to reach behind you and push the vase to your side so he could see the ornate display. Blue eyes narrowed, highlighting the wary crease in his brow before they widened, softening all the way through. His hand slinked down to your waist, a light squeeze followed as he shuffled to the side and studied the flowers. Bright yellows and oranges, brilliant crimsons and pinks, and mellow pastels were suddenly under his intense scrutiny as he took in the sight of the blossoms, “w-what are these?”

“And here I was, thinking you were smart,” standing behind him, you wrapped your arms around his waist, delicately and slowly at first so you wouldn’t startle him. His frame stiffened for a mere moment before he relaxed, the weight of your head on his back a welcome burden he was happy to bear, “these are called flowers.”

“Very funny,” you could feel the laugh vibrate through his chest as a hand, one colder and more metallic than normal, but still all him, settled on your own. Pressing a line of soft kisses to his shoulders, you listened to the steady beating of his heart, “what’s the occasion?”

“There is none,” you insisted, “I just thought you would enjoy them. Look at the colors and blossoms, they all reminded me of you. So brilliant and warm and bright and lovely - just like you, Bucky.”

A few beats of silence met your ears as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, a million thoughts swirling around his mind. Before you could speak or say anything else, he turned around in your arms so he was facing you. He gestured between you and the flowers for a few moments, finding himself at a loss for words, “me?”

“Yes,” you promised him, “for you. Do you like them?”

“I love them,” he reassured you, an easy warmth settling over you, “back in the day I would have been doing this for you…”

‘You’ve gotten me flowers plenty of times,” you laughed, a sound that had easily become his favorite thing in almost no time, “besides, you deserve some nice things too.”

“I’ve been thinking…”

“That’s a new one,” you teased as he jokingly groaned, “ I jest! I’ve noticed you’ve been a little more quiet and stoic lately...I didn’t even know that was possible for you. What’s been on your mind, my love?”

“There’s this quote that came into mind...I heard it somewhere, but I can’t remember from what or who,” he mused as he rubbed thoughtfully at his chin, “it’s something along the lines of ‘when you realize you can tell someone your truth, when you can stand in front of them and show yourself and their response is “you’re safe with me” - that’s intimacy.’ I feel like...I can do that with you - like I can be myself and you’re not judging me, even though you know who I am.”

“Bucky - James - I know who you are,” it was surprising you didn’t melt into a puddle then and there, melting into nothingness at his feet. You leaned in, looking at his eyes for a few moments before capturing his lips in a soft kiss. You broke apart slowly, reluctantly before resting your forehead against his, “I know exactly you who are. And I love you for it - a good man, friend, partner, and so many other things. You are good, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else says or thinks. Fuck them - the people that know you know who you really are.”

“Even after…”

“Even after everything that’s happened,” you promised, “you are safe with me. I’m not going to suddenly turn my back on you and walk away. I love you, Bucky. You have me, now and forever, and I’ve got you, always. That’s not going to change. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you could feel him smiling against your lips as he breathed you in and let you overwhelm his senses, “I know that.”

“Good,” you smiled as you reached for his hand, “let’s go to get dinner. I’m starving.”

“Don’t you need to close up?”

“Nah,” you winked at him, “I closed up as soon as we got off the phone earlier so we would have interruptions. C’mon Buck, I’m going to take you for a night on the town! What do you say?”

“Sounds perfect,” he agreed, “there’s just one more thing.”

“Hmm?”

“This,” he pulled you into his arms and kissed you deeply as your body melded into his, “I love you too.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog  @sheridans-dynamos  @queenbbarnes  @persephonesnebula   @ah-callie  @blushingwueen  @thisis-theway @rosetophighlander  @rae-gar-targaryen    @hiscyarika  @readsalot73  @huliabitch  @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd  @beepbeepsephy   @scarlettwitcher   @choicesarcade  @arrowswithwifi  @everythingaboutnothingstuff  @suckerfor-fanfics  @bestintheparsec @javihoney  @aeryntheofficial  @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction  @asgardianvamp21  @keithseabrook27  @karmezii  @dearspacepirates  @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou  @paintballkid711 @mrpascals @lv7867 @artsymaddie @gooddaykate @rosiefridayrogersunday @heyitmelexie @criminalmind1927 @justanotherblonde23 @coni-martina @thewayofthemandalorian @phoenixhalliwell @lucifer @cosmoschick @kochamcie @linkpk88 @leaiorganas @nikkixostan @haley-the-comet @chibi-yuki @computeringturtle @4ng3lf43 @intu-witch-tion @wondergal2001 @gingerbreadandpaper @willowtheewisp @milkxxkookies @smollpinkgirl @zukoyonce  @boomtownboy  @discowitchyy​

[cinnamonest]

//some horrendous gaslighting

I love my stranger-to-noncon very much but I don't give enough attention to consensual relationships taking a turn for the worse, or utterly toxic and abusive boyfriends and Kaeya is the perfect candidate for that so here we go.

-----

I've mentioned before the Kaeya would be exceptionally violent in comparison to other yanderes, but it's important to note that he's also among the most emotionally sensitive, and those two things do not go together well.

Not sensitive outwardly, of course, he's spent years developing that personality of his as a defense mechanism, can easily pretend he doesn't care about anything, but deep down that abandonment complex and those insecurities are strong and easily triggered. Some of the ways it manifests are mild, like how he gets overly attached to you within a week of knowing you, commits and tries to move way too fast even in completely mutual and consensual relationships. The kind of guy that suggests moving in together a week into the relationship, and dropping I love you so early on that you're left to merely blink in surprise because you barely know each other, but under the pressure and awkwardness you find yourself stuttering out a reciprocation, even though it's quite untrue. Guilt-trips and pressures his way into fucking you within a couple of days.

He's a very different person behind closed doors, it comes out maybe a month in when he lets the walls drop and lets himself trust you. He's more vulnerable, sweeter. Oddly... Eager to trust. It's like he desperately wants someone he can latch onto and show some vulnerability around and chose you to be that someone.

But also different in other ways. More... Bitter. More grumpy. More immature.

He's not sensitive in general, he doesn't really care about what most people say or do, but that sensitivity comes out once he's attached to a person, which happens rather quickly. You start noticing it rather quickly in a mutual relationship, and it likely shocks you honestly that he's so... immature. You spend the day with one of your friends -- just one, catch up with them, haven't seen them in a while... and when you get home things are rather quiet. He's usually a very talkative person, so you can't figure out what's wrong. Maybe something bad happened, but he insists no, it's fine. There's nothing wrong. And then you catch the last part, much quieter, spoken under his breath in that lighthearted tone he speaks in, yet with a bitterness to it.

You wouldn't care anyway, you're too busy with your friends.

It takes you by surprise at first because holy shit, really? It seems so petulant that it can't possibly be real, but... Maybe he really did have a bad day and is just getting his anger out by directing it at the first thing he can. That's not right, but hey, everyone has weak moments where they do some bad things. Besides, you weren't there for him, so he feels worse right? Still, you spent every day the past month except this one day with him... No, it's just poor timing, that's all.

Until it happens again. And again. And he swears he likes your friends, smiles at them, but it... Looks forced. Always complaining that you spend so much time with them and completely ignore him. Do you even care? Do you value the relationship at all? You try to not get angry and be rational, but still defend yourself because you spend almost all of your time with him don't you? You can't get much out before he just huffs and stomps away, rolls his eyes (well, you assume he rolls both of them, you can't tell but-- nevermind, not the point) and gives you a cold shoulder. Until you apologize, then it's like the switch has flipped back on, there's love and smiles and warmth and hugs again.

It starts to get on your nerves. You start to wonder if maybe this isn't healthy for you, if maybe you should end things, but you decide to give him another chance, right? We all make mistakes. He's under a lot of stress. Just... It'll be fine.

And the first time it gets physical he swears it's an accident. It leaves an ugly scar. You're going out because come on, it's my family, I haven't seen them in forever.

It just happens, he explains, it's unintentional, emotions get channeled through the vision like that. Comforts you as you sit on the ground crying and clutching your arm that he grabbed as you walked out the door, skin darkened and purplish from the freeze that's seared through a layer of your skin. He sighs and says he's sorry, really, he feels horrible already, so don't get mad, ok? He already feels terrible enough... Don't be mean. He didn't mean it. Don't be mean. Don't be fucking mean about it, stop fucking crying. You're making him feel worse.

He seems genuinely sorry, you tell yourself. It's not his fault. You can't blame him. It's ok.

It's harder to excuse the next time it gets physical. Maybe freezing last time was unintentional, and maybe it hurt, but you weren't terrified like this. A hand around your throat is different.

But can you blame him? You were threatening to leave. Honestly, you weren't approaching it healthily, you weren't trying to actually have a serious talk, you were trying to guilt him and gaslight him and it's honestly emotionally abusive, you know? You're the one in the wrong here. How selfish and cruel. How can you do that and not even feel guilty?

It makes you rethink. It makes you question your own sanity. And it makes you apologize. Makes you say you didn't mean it. You find yourself feeling dizzy, disoriented, like everything isn't real and everything is too much. You try to sleep it off.

And he doesn't like delving into the past. He tries to avoid it. Tries to not think about it. Doesn't even really tell you anything until nearly a year in, a drunken confession of sadness and misery. It makes you feel guilty somehow. Poor thing. He's been through a lot, you tell yourself. Maybe you should be more patient and understanding, help him work through it. You can fix him, per se, can't you? Sure, people say that never works, but... He just needs love, really, it's not like he's that bad.

He hates bringing it up like this even more. It just feels weak and vulnerable but it comes out anyway. You're threatening him again, and honestly, that's a sickening thing to do considering what you know, how can you be so vicious?

You're just like everyone else, aren't you?

You're just going to abandon him like this was nothing. You don't care at all. You're heartless. Ungrateful. He's done so much for you. And this is how you repay him, huh? Disappointing, honestly. He thought you were special. Kind. Understanding. Didn't realize you were just as cruel as everyone else in his life, aren't you?

He just has this way of making you doubt yourself. You pull at your hair and cry. I'm going insane. You keep the thought to yourself, but you fall to your knees and promise you're really sorry this time. He sighs. Fine, he'll give you another chance. He's a patient man. You just need to work on yourself, become a less toxic person.

But apparently that's not enough, and eventually you get dumped.

It comes as a surprise. But he says he's had enough of you being so emotionally manipulative and neglectful. You hardly ever spend time with him (like, only 29 days a month? Unbelievable!). You cry and try to make him feel bad, when the things he does aren't that bad. You always claim to be too tired to fuck. You try to gaslight him into thinking all that's acceptable. It's toxic and abusive, so, he's done.

You find yourself in shock. Confusion. It feels unreal. The first thing you worry about is if you can even find a new boyfriend... Your body is completely littered in freeze-burn scars by now, after all.

Were you really in the wrong? You're not too experienced in relationships, maybe he's right about everything he said... Maybe you really did him wrong...

Which is why you come crawling back. Crying. Apologizing.

Exactly as planned.

So he sighs and agrees. Fine. You can have another chance.

The second time, the third time, he always forgives you and takes you back. Even though you don't deserve it. He just loves you so much, you know? He keeps forgiving you.

Until one day you don't show up.

When you leave that time, you seem almost angry. You don't cry this time. Your hands ball into fists and for once, for the first time, as you storm out, you say--

Fine.

Unusual, but you were always moody like that. Odd choice of words. No matter, it's not like you're actually fine with it, you'll come crawling back any minute now.

It's already been several hours. Why aren't you at his doorstep already? Did he make you feel that bad? Maybe he went too far... You're probably just at home crying or something. You'll come back by tomorrow morning.

You don't.

Ok. Maybe you feel too guilty. Maybe you're reflecting on how awful you've been. That would take some time to get over, since you've done so many bad things. It won't be long before you come back.

A day passes. Two days pass.

What's taking you so long?

He finally swallows his pride. Maybe you're being stubborn. Trying to make him feel bad. Yeah, that's something you'd do. Or maybe you're trying to make him feel all alone, take advantage of the one thing you know bothers him. How mean. But he loves you. You know that. So you'll appreciate it when he checks on you, apologizes for maybe going too far, and he really loves you, he loves you so much, so how about you two just go home and forget this ever happened and have lots and lots of makeup sex and cuddle? And then you can tell him you're sorry and love him too and promise to stay forever? He's already got the speech practiced a few times in his head walking over to your place, the one you haven't really lived in for a while now since he demanded you basically move in with him. All your clothes and stuff are at his place now. You would have taken that with you if you ever actually intended to leave, so clearly this is a ploy to get him to come to you, as if that wasn't already obvious.

Your eyes narrow when you open the door and your face contorts with anger. And you snarl that you've had enough. He wants you gone so much, fine, you're more than happy to oblige, you say. You're done. You don't even need your shit, keep it, you'd rather lose your stuff than set foot in that place again. You finally came to your senses and you're fucking done.

You say nasty things. You say he made your life a living hell and you're happy to be rid of him.

And then you say something worse. Something that sets something deep inside off. Something that feels like a stab to the gut.

You say if you'd known the truth about him you would have kicked him out a long time ago.

Maybe it's not about the same thing. Not meant the same way. But it feels too familiar nonetheless.

You see him freeze up. He just stands still for a moment. Not saying anything. Face blank and empty. His eye twitches.

You couldn't care less. Besides, you already have a new boyfriend, one that's nice to you, you tell him with a prideful spite in your voice. One that doesn't have fucking issues. You're not a therapist, you say, and you tell him to figure out his problems on his own, and you slam the door in his face.

Or, you try to. He catches the door before it can close with one hand. Grabs your arm with the other.

For once he doesn't say anything, not until you make him. Just grabs you, drags you down the street by your shirt. It nearly chokes you, but you manage to start to scream. He slams your back into the nearest building, grabs your shoulders and says to shut the fuck up or I'll break your fucking arms. You go wide eyed and scared tears run down you're face. You're scaring me, you plead. Let me go.

But he doesn't. You figure maybe you can talk sense into him when you get there. You don't realize how far gone he is, you don't think that this might be the last time you set foot outside, the last time you see the sun not through a window. You don't think any of the things you'll wish you had down the road.

You've had rough sex before. Not quite like this, though. You can't breathe. You kick and wheeze and cry and claw at the hand around your throat and desperately gasp for what little air you can get in. He only lets go when you black out, lets you take a few breaths, then does it again. You're still so tight. New boyfriend must not have measured up, huh. It's raw and dry and it hurts. You whimper and you cry and you finally apologize like you should have days ago.

And yet, most importantly, you cum. See? You love him. So say it. Say it already. Come on. You do, you stutter, it's quiet and scared, but he smiles nonetheless.

It's ok. He knows you're sorry. He knows you didn't mean those awful things you said. You would never actually abandon him. You're different. Different. Special. Not like everyone else. You won't leave. You won't just leave him somewhere and disappear, you won't die out of nowhere, you won't kick him aside and leave him alone, you're the only person who won't. Different. That's why he loves you so much. You would never do any of that.

You just need help. You're so emotional, you're really not emotionally stable. Controlled by your wildly changing emotions. They make you say things you don't mean. Do things you don't really intend to do. Things you'll just regret if he didn't intervene and help you.

They make you vulnerable to other people. You're so easily controlled. You believe what they want you to believe. And that's dangerous. That could lead you to try to leave again. That's why you have to be helped. Kept away from becoming victim to your own impulses. The only way to do that is keeping you locked away. You'll come to understand with time. Appreciate it. Thank him.

You'll appreciate it because you're different. You'll never leave. You would never leave him even if you had the opportunity.

But maybe it's for the best that you don't have that opportunity to begin with.

[guynamedultimax]

GIVE ME ONE REASON WHY I SHOULDN’T PUNCH YOUR FACE IN: Ultimate Guilty Gear Edition

Sol Badguy: It would be way too rewarding.

Ky Kiske: You’ll be late to supper.

May: Johnny specifically instructed me to have a good day.

Faust (also valid for Chronus): I’d rather just do it myself.

Potemkin (also valid for Kum Haeyun): *towers above the interloper* You’re joking, right?

Chipp Zanuff: My face is filled with hot boiling water that will shoot out everywhere if you hit me.

Zato-1: No one has attempted harm on Millia yet.

Millia Rage, buying time: I’m so underdressed.

Axl Low: Wounding me emotionally would pay much higher dividends.

Kliff Undersn: The giant greatsword I’m carrying slicing you in half. Being 71 doesn’t mean I can’t defend myself. 

Baiken (also valid for Bedman and Nagoriyuki): I’ve already discovered your pressure points and weak spots while you were menacing me, so I’m giving you a 20-second headstart before I kill you.

Testament (also valid for Dizzy, Anji Mito and Gabriel): I don’t mean you harm unless you ask for it.

Justice: *doesn’t even allow the interloper to finish his menace, rips their spine in half*

Johnny: The scheduled walloping time isn’t for another half hour.

Venom, clearly lying: Sir I’m just an ordinary baker, don’t mind the floating robot head and buy some pastries before the situation worsens. 

Jam Kuradoberi: Because you will owe me more money.

Robo-Ky (also valid for A.B.A.): I’m the last of my species.

Slayer: You’re gonna ruin my outfit, and that’s one of the few things that you will regret in your short-lived life.

Bridget: Unless you’re a bounty and you turn yourself in afterwards I’m not taking any punches.

Zappa: I don’t wanna alarm you but you might be punched by a random ghost if you do it.

I-No: Your fist is so pristine.

Sin Kiske: My teeth are not yet ready to be harvested.

Izuna: You know I can just...teleport away, right? Bruh. 

Valentine: Give me one good reason for why I shouldn’t be the one punching you. Pro tip: it’s related to keys.

Dr. Paradigm: I’m [REDACTED]th-year-old Nobel Prize-winning scientist Dr. Paradigm, celebrated widely for my studies whose help has been vital against the war with the Universal Will.

Raven: What did Asuka do this time?

Leo Whitefang: If you’re punching me, who is driving this plane?!

Ramlethal Valentine: Judge said I’d go to jail if someone punched me one more time.

Elphelt Valentine: I’m going to see the Liberty Bell for the first time later today, and I want everything to be perfect.

Jack’O Valentine: How about you give me all your candy and I ignore what you just said?

Giovanna (also valid for Goldlewis Dickinson): I took the oath to never get punched.

Happy Chaos: When you move in to punch me, I’m going to hold a bucket up in front of my face, and your fist will just punch the inside of an empty bucket and you’ll look ridiculous.

Order-Sol Badguy: 632146S, 5P, 5K, 5S, 5H, 5D, 5K, 5S, 632146H

Asuka R. Kreutz: This bullseye on my chin is not meant to be taken literally.

Daryl, lying out of his ass: I’m 84-year-old Nobel Prize-winning author Toni Morrison, celebrated widely for my poetic, unsparing depictions of life in America.

Vernon: *points at his robotic arms with an annoyed look*

Ariels: Do you know who I am?

Delilah: Your name is not Ariels, nor is it Universal Will, Original or Happy Chaos.

[1kook]

right place, wrong time

— a someway, somehow jungkook drabble summary Home was Jungkook, it had always been Jungkook… but it wasn’t this Jungkook. warnings angst, heart ache, its actually kinda sad :/ lmfao, jk is a little... uh... como se dice.... jerk without realizing it.... justice for oc.... also there’s a scene where oc throws up so !! rating m wc 1.5k

notes THIS TAKES PLACE 5 YEARS BEFORE SWSH ITSELF ! OK ! enjoy <3 i wanted to try writing angst again <3 also i have no self control i said i would post this in 7 hrs yet here i am. and its not proofread <_<

When you were kids, the fact Jungkook’s birthday fell early on into the school year was a huge deal; everyone in your class was invited, both new and returning students, and the event itself was practically the opening scene to the school year itself. As you got older and he began to move away from colorfully decorated parties, his early birthday still earned him a lot of attention, had everyone at your high school congratulating him from the moment the first bell rang until the last. There weren’t any grand birthday bashes during high school, but the Jeons were a loving family, party or no party, and always got him a cake to celebrate each new year. 

Up until you left for college, you had never missed Jungkook blowing out the candles for his birthday. Be it a backyard party bustling with kids or a smaller affair at his favorite restaurant, you had always been invited, always cheered for him with each new year of life he welcomed. 

As a kid, you had always been adamant on getting the spot closest to him as you sang happy birthday, beaming at your best friend like he was your entire world. His childhood photo albums had been proof of that, filled with a chronological sequencing of every birthday he’s had with you at his side, your smiles changing with the times— from missing teeth to full of braces, you had always been at Jungkook’s side. 

As a young-adult, you had to bite down your pride and watch Sojin fulfill that spot. 

You had missed his last two birthdays since entering college. Your first year away from home, everyone you knew warned you about not going home too early into the year, something about how it would solidify your homesickness and you’d never be able to assimilate afterwards. So you had congratulated Jungkook from Taehyung’s phone screen, greatly appreciating the way Taehyung angled the phone away from Sojin as best he could. Then your second year, you had been drowning in that first wave of projects and essays, and simply couldn’t squeeze a five hour drive there and back into your schedule. Jungkook understood; there was no party this year, just a simple family dinner. The video call ended soon after you congratulated him, his attention drawn away by the voice of another woman you knew all too well. 

For his twenty-first birthday, Jungkook was adamant that you attend. He had told you about it before you had left for the new semester, bent over by the front wheels of your car, making sure everything was in tip-top shape before you went off again. His t-shirt was drenched in sweat, trails running down his hairline, over the prominent veins of his neck.“I want you there,” Jungkook had said, taking your offered hand as he stood back up. He must have miscalculated— or maybe it was on purpose —his step, because when he stepped forward, he was all too close. He didn’t let go of your hand. “Please?” 

Your eyes flickered over his chest, to his neck. He smelled like home, or at least the image of it you had created in your mind during your last two years away. Home was lavender fabric softener billowing over you in waves, the faint traces of this morning’s cologne, the subtle scent of his metallic work tools. It was his chocolate curls tickling his eyebrows, his easygoing smile, the way he pulled you closer, made the scents wash over you all over again. 

It was Jungkook. It was Jungkook. It was Jungkook and his warm touch. It was Jungkook and his softened gaze. Home was Jungkook, it had always been Jungkook… but it wasn’t this Jungkook. It wasn’t this Jungkook and the hickey on his neck. 

The sight made your stomach recoil, eyes quickly averted from the site of the crime. He had gotten here later than usual, said something about having to take Sojin somewhere first. So that’s what that meant. Jungkook, unaware of the fact the collar of his t-shirt has let you in on his private life, squeezes your hand. “You’ll come, won’t you?” 

And you were stupid and you were in love, so of course you said yes. 

It’s a cookout this year, his backyard filled to the brim with relatives and friends and so many cans of beer you don’t know what to do. His parents are ecstatic for your return, babbling on and on about how much he missed you for the last two birthdays. You take it in stride, and maybe in a different timeline you would have believed it, but not this one. Aside from greeting you at the door and taking your keys off your hands, you had barely seen the birthday boy all day. You mingle with old friends, his relatives, tentatively sip at your can of soda. You’re tired, the long drive having sapped the majority of your energy for the day. 

Sometime around sunset, you meet eyes with him across the yard. Jungkook smiles, he always smiles. You okay? he mimes with a thumbs-up, and you want to say yes, but Sojin is sitting on his lap, an obnoxiously loud display, and when he puts his hand back down, it immediately finds its home on her thigh. You send him a half-hearted shrug, play it off like you're still a little carsick from the long drive here. 

(Truthfully, you are sick, but you’re not sure it’s from the drive.) 

Even at twenty-one, his family maintains their tradition and sings him happy birthday. With your return, his mother delegates you to cake cutting duties again, so you’re on standby for the song, at his side with the cake cutter in hand. Jungkook is grinning from ear to ear, Sojin attached to his hip, his arm sling around her shoulders. His family sings and sings, and Jungkook is happy. His eyes jump around the table, taking in the sight before him the way he does every year. And when they reach you at his side, Jungkook beams, reaches for your hand beneath the table and squeezes, all the while keeping his girlfriend closely hugged to his other side. 

You cut the cake. Sojin gets her slice and promptly whisks Jungkook away. 

By ten pm, you find yourself in his upstairs bathroom puking your guts out. It’s the carsickness, you tell yourself, or maybe the cake frosting, throat gagging around nothing, tears clinging to your lash line. But is it really?

“__?” someone says, and you make a weak attempt to turn towards the door. You don’t know what you expected— had you actually wanted Jungkook to find you in this sorry state? —but it isn’t Jungkook. “Shit, what happened?” Taehyung worries, hurrying to your aid. And you’re grateful that there’s someone here to help you, to save you from yourself and your stupid, heartbroken thoughts. But it’s not the man you want it to be, and that has you squeezing your eyes shut tightly, until the mascara on your lashes imprints itself against your under eyes instead. 

The man you want bumps into you downstairs, catches Taehyung helping you into the spare bedroom to lie down. “__?” Jungkook calls out, eyes big and scared. “Where— what’s going on?” he asks, thrusting his plate into Sojin’s hands before rushing to your side. He grabs your forearm, and the touch burns, so you yank yourself away. 

Faintly, you hear Taehyung explain. “She’s sick,” he says, pulling you closer. “She’s been out of it since she first got here. I think it was the long drive.” Yes, it was the long drive, you agree. 

Jungkook, unfazed by your first recoil, reaches for your arm again. “I’ve got her,” he tells Taehyung, underestimating his strength when he tugs you closer, has you stumbling into his chest. His rough handling makes your stomach tighten, your head feel dizzy. 

“Jungkook,” you gasp, hand on his chest. “Wait— I’m—“ And he’s trying to move you back up the stairs, probably into his bedroom to lie down. But the sight of the stairs and his overwhelming scent and the hickey on his neck, the hickey Sojin left on his neck, makes you nauseous all over again. 

Taehyung yelps in your defense. “Jungkook,” he scolds, carefully maneuvering you out of Jungkook’s harm’s way. “You’re making it worse.” 

From a few feet away, Sojin calls out his name. “Jungkook?” she says and her voice is so sweet, yet so sticky; it makes you gag. “Baby, they’re calling for you outside.” 

And everyone is saying his name, so he doesn’t know where to look, doesn’t know who to prioritize, not when everyone wants his attention. He looks at you, and your heart soars for a millisecond. Then it plummets when he settles on Sojin instead. “I— you’re right, Tae,” he sighs, backing off, letting go. “You got __, right?” Taehyung nods. “Call me if anything happens.”

And he leaves, slips his hand around Sojin’s waist and guides her out the door. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t even tell you to get better soon. He just leaves. 

Taehyung lays you down, doesn’t say a word when you start crying because he probably thinks it’s about your stomach and the vomiting. “It’s okay,” he soothes, helping you out of your shoes. “Does it hurt?”

Yes, you sob. It hurts very badly.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[rebelwrites]

You Need To Rest

Clay Spenser x Reader

Warnings: mentions of being in hospital, the aftermath of a hemiplegic migraine

Thought it was about time I wrote one of these for my baby

Join The Group Chat Here - If You Want Tagging Manually Let Me Know 🖤

Clay Spenser Masterlist

This Months Writing

“Home sweet home,” you sighed in content as you kicked your air max off in the hallway.

“Right you straight on the sofa,” Clay said softly as he placed your bags on the bottom step of the stairs, “and I will make you a decent cult of coffee,”

“You are gonna make me rest aren’t you?” You asked as you flopped onto the sofa.

“Damn right I am baby, you need to let your body recover. I mean you have kept saying that you still feel dizzy so yes I’m gonna make you rest for the rest of the week,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

“I will rest tonight that’s for sure but I will feel fine tomorrow,” you said, folding your arms across your chest, “I’ve been resting in the hospital,”

“Monday doesn’t count Princess, you were sleeping pretty much all day, and plus you keep saying your back still hurts so my rules are final,” he said poking his head around the kitchen door, “so you just make yourself comfortable and just think about what you want takeaway you want for dinner.”

“Fine,” you huffed, leaning back onto the sofa, pulling your feel underneath your thighs. It was nice to finally be home surrounded by your own comforts and not the hospital.

Clay couldn’t help but smile as he made the coffee, the last couple of days he had felt so lost with you being in the hospital and it sucked that he could only see you for an hour a day. But he was so glad that you were home and now he couldn’t wait to get in his arms.

“Oh I also brought you a new colouring book and some new pens,” Clay smiled, passing you a mug of coffee “thought it would be something that would help you relax and I know you love colouring.”

“You are too good for me,” you smiled, sipping the coffee slowly letting your eyes close as the taste of the coffee took over your tastebuds. “This is good shit, so much better that what they served me in hospital,”

“Come on budge up,” Clay whispered, as he kicked off his trainers, placing his mug on the coffee table, “I want cuddles with my Princess, I’ve been lacking my cuddles the last couple of days,”

Placing your coffee on the coffee table, you crawled over to Clay, nuzzling your head under his arm wrapping your arm around his waist. You were in desperate need for a shower but that could wait, right now all you wanted was to cuddle up with your boyfriend.

“I’m so glad to be home,” you mumbled, resting your head on his chest.

“I warned them about the lumber puncher,” Clay whispered, “I know you are petrified of them, I wish I was there with you,”

“They woke me up I was still half dazed when then did it,” you whimpered, as Clay slowly ran his fingers over the injection site on the small of your back. “It’s gonna be sore for the next couple of days though,”

“Which is why you need to rest baby,” Clay hummed, “I want you back up to full strength, and I know your brain will still be a bit scrambled for a while but Blackburn has given me some personal time so I can make sure you rest up,”

A couple of hours had passed and Clay had just taken the pizza boxes into the kitchen, and you couldn’t help but watch his ass as he walked into the kitchen in just a pair of boxers.

“Do you want your heat pad for your back, see if that helps with the pain?” Clay asked, scratching the side of his face as he reached to the top of the fridge to grab the heat pad.

“Please,” you shouted from the sofa.

“How are you feeling?” Clay asked a few minutes later when he came to the sofa.

“I still feel fuzzy as fuck to be honest, and still slightly dazed,” you whispered, it had been so long since your last attach but this one was the worst one so far, wiping out a day and a half of your memory. “But I will be like this for the rest of the week, migraine hangovers suck major dick,”

@chibsytelford @mrsmarvelous1995 @supervalcsi @talicat713 @disasterfandoms @bravo-four-seal-team @jasonbabymama @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @lotsoflovefromlea @seik-o @velvetcardiganbucky @phoenixhalliwell @pancakeisreading @itsonautopilot @pinkrockstar19 @galaxysanduniversesinmymind @softi92 @abby-splace @theysayitscrazy @thelovelyleo23 @innerpaperexpertcloud @pascal-reyes

[sokkascroptop]

traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 26

part 1 | part 25

a/n: no matter how long you have been here, just know i'm extremely grateful for anyone who's read this fic. now here's the latest chapter.

Sometimes it felt like the days dragged on. Each and every hour was laid out just like the day before–the week before. It made time seem endless, even though Y/N knew it definitely was not. Sozin’s Comet was getting closer and closer each day. Y/N didn’t know if it was the anticipation for that long fated day or if it was some buried fire bender gene in her body, warning her of something to come. She could feel it deep within her bones. She woke up earlier and earlier each day, no matter how late her night ended up. And each day the sun greeted her with warm yellow light that made the air a little easier to breathe.

As they moved further south and into Fire Nation territory, Zuko made mention of Ember Island as a place to hide out. The island–or chain of islands, really–were close enough to Caldera City that it would be a good place for them to lay low and wait, as well as uninhabited by enough people that they could lay low.

Y/N thought it was a little risky to be living in the Fire Lord’s Ember Island house, but Zuko was probably right, this was going to be the last place anyone would look for them. Maybe Y/N was just unsettled about being back, so close to Caldera City, or maybe it was being back on Ember Island for the first time since she was 9.

Somewhere between the temple and the beach house, Y/N tired of training. It just added to the monotony, and so she just…stopped. Instead, she spent her days on the beach, sometimes alone–often with the others though–playing in the tide pools and skim-boarding on the sand. And sometimes, if she felt like she didn’t have enough time on her own to recharge, she’d leave in the night, either through her window or the front door to take a walk on the beach in the moonlight. Only to come back and wake up a few hours later, ready for sunrise.

Today was no different, though the sun was already peeking over the horizon and into her room when her eyes peeled open.

The wooden floors creaked under Y/N’s feet as she crept out of her room silently.

Each board was smooth under her bare toes, not well-worn by many little feet running across them year after year but made that way before they were even built into the house, for no doubt a hefty fee. The beach house was… cold, to say the least. It just felt like each pore of the house seeped something uninviting, reminding them that they shouldn’t be there. It wasn’t just Y/N who felt it, they all spent as little time as possible in the house.

She padded into the kitchen and struck their flint to start a fire under the stove–mostly unneeded since Zuko had joined their group–but wholly necessary when he wasn’t around to be their fire-starter. Y/N didn’t mind doing it this way, it felt nice being able to do something with her own hands for once instead of relying on the others to make clean water or heat up the food. She boiled just enough water for one cup of tea before heading out to the courtyard where she knew at least two of her friends would be awake.

Y/N didn’t like feeling optimistic. It was a terrifying feeling. There was so much riding on their success; she didn’t want to spend so much energy on hoping only to have it all dashed away if things didn’t go their way. It would be too heartbreaking. But watching Aang, she could. They weren’t even sparring and she could see the power behind every blast of fire. And she had hope for their future. She had to; she wasn’t going to lose her friends.

“You’re doing that one wrong,” Y/N said from the shadows on the porch. She held her warm cup to her chest, the breeze blowing in from the ocean was keeping the courtyard chilly until the sun could rise high enough to heat the island.

Aang didn’t seem too surprised to hear her voice. “Doing what wrong?” He asked, confused.

Zuko frowned up at Y/N from his seat on the steps but nodded to Aang. “She’s right, you have to dip further down so when you come up the fire creates more of an arc.”

Aang pushed through a few more poses before Zuko stood up and joined him. Y/N stole his seat and pulled her legs up to cross them. She watched as they moved in tandem, working though the most basic of firebending forms all the way up to a few advanced ones. Memories flooded Y/N’s head so fast it made her dizzy. She remembered sitting just like she was now, watching her two brothers work through their forms when she was younger. On chilly mornings, much like today, she would wrap herself in a blanket nest and sip on tea that was much too sweet as they worked well into mid morning. In a sudden rush of affection she realized she was doing much of the same thing, just years and years later.

Aang had learned fast. That was good. She set down her empty cup as the two boys headed back to her, both sweaty from their training. “Good job, Aang! You’re doing great!”

Aang beamed with pride. “Thanks, Y/N!

“Don’t be so encouraging, he’s still got a lot to learn,” Zuko grumbled, taking a seat on the ground next to her.

Y/N pouted. “He needs encouragement. That’s how he learns.” Y/N learned that from watching the differences between Katara teaching styles and Toph’s teaching styles.

“Speaking of firebending,” Aang kicked his feet against the edge of the steps and looked around like he was avoiding something. “How did you know about the firebending forms?”

Zuko leaned back on his hands. “I’d like to know that too.”

Y/N smiled softly. “I watched my brothers for years, religiously learning all the forms and practicing them on my own. I wanted to be just like them. I guess I still remember them.”

Aang frowned. “It’s not like you couldn’t bend on purpose.”

Y/N was surprised to see Aang look so sad. “I know.” She shrugged and looked away feeling her cheeks redden with both boys staring at her. “I just wanted to be normal so people would stop paying attention to me for the wrong reasons.” She mumbled.

“It made you a better sword fighter,” Zuko said suddenly.

“What?” Y/N asked.

“The discipline and movements. You do the same when you’re fighting.”

“I’ve never noticed, but you’re right, Zuko!” Aang exclaimed.

The thought made Y/N smile. “That was nice of you.”

Zuko rolled his eyes but let the smallest hint of a smile grace his lips.

She looked back to Aang, who still looked a bit hesitant. “Don’t worry about me. How about we go swimming? Before the others wake up!”

Aang perked up immediately. “That sounds great! Let’s go, Zuko!”

Y/N and Aang stood, both looking down at Zuko, who just stared at the ground between his feet. She could already hear him saying no, telling them that he needed to train more or meditate and didn’t have time to run off and play games.

Y/N opened her mouth to tell Aang that the two of them could still go but Zuko spoke up before her. “Yeah, okay.”

Sometimes even on those long, dragging days, it was the little things that made everything better; like playing in the surf with two of your friends.

---

That evening though, Y/N was back where she had started the day, and had decided that everyone in her group of friends, save for maybe Zuko, talked way too much. She craved those moments alone where she just had her thoughts to occupy her. Especially when she had a lot on her mind.

Y/N didn’t want to admit she felt stuck inside with Aang and Katara while everyone else was outside enjoying the evening, but she also felt guilty in turning down their request to help make dinner to just wander around on the beach until sunset. She didn’t help out much with making meals, and she felt obligated to help when she could.

So she was there, sitting on the dinner table, lotus style with a knife and a cutting board and a basket of carrots in need of chopping at her side.

“What else can I do, Katara?” Aang dumped some of the vegetables he was cutting into the stew Katara was currently stirring over the stove.

“Hmm, can you go out and get some more water to make the rice?” Aang grinned and nodded, before running out of the house towards the side of the house where there was a small barrel of collected water.

Y/N smiled to herself at the interaction and continued cutting carrots for Katara, trying not to let her mind wander, but it was hard with the monotonous work and the bad spot she was sitting in.

Just in front of her was the window where she had watched Zuko and Aang train while she made tea that morning, now it showed Zuko and Sokka doing their own training.

Y/N was struggling with more than just feeling like she didn’t belong on the Island. She didn’t know what she was going to say to Sokka, or if she was even going to say anything about her feelings at all. Without the constant traveling and the safety of a hideout, she was able to just stop and let those feelings and thoughts she had been holding back with a dam of fear wash over her.

It was all really confusing for Y/N. And hard to admit.

She didn’t want to face the awkward conversation of asking whether he could always be there for her. She didn’t want to beg him to never leave because she was so insecure. She was so afraid of losing everything and everyone that she was going to do just that because she was afraid of opening up.

What would happen if she never told Sokka she loved him back? Did she even love him back? What did love feel like?

Love with Azula felt like fire, sometimes it burned painfully, but in the good times it filled her with a warmth like never before. Zuko’s friendship felt the same, but it was less like sitting too close to the fire and more like sitting just in the right place where it didn’t dry out your eyes but didn’t make goosebumps grow on your arms. Sokka always felt like a cool breeze, one where you lift your face up to the sky and smile because it always feels like relief. But that’s not what Y/N is used to. How does she know if it’s love if it doesn’t hurt a little bit? How does she know that it's real if she doesn’t have to give all of herself until she is worn to nothing to make it work?

It wasn’t that she was afraid to care for him, she had made it clear that she did. It was just easier on her heart to keep him at a distance for now until she figured they were inevitably part ways. That’s how Y/N saw this all ending. Separated across oceans, back to where they came from, whatever the outcome of the war. Y/N wanted to dream of the possibilities and opportunities where they could be together in the long run, but those were just that, dreams for another lifetime. People from the Water Tribe didn’t marry people from the Fire Nation.

Everything that she learned over the last few months was that nothing was ever set in stone, so why should she and Sokka be.

Y/N stared out the window, pondering when it would all fall apart and sliced downwards on a carrot, but met nothing but the cutting board. She looked down where the knife was closer to her finger than to the carrots. She let out a little inward gasp.

“What?” Katara turned around and asked.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Nothing.” She motioned to the cutting board. “Do you want these smaller?”

Katara eyed Y/N and then looked to the cutting board. “They’re fine. But pay more attention, I don’t know how to reattach fingers yet.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Y/N’s eyes didn’t leave the wooden cutting board and her fingers until the others came bustling into the kitchen, all talking at once.

Y/N for the most part ignored everyone, until Sokka reached over and snatched one of the slices of carrots.

Y/N nudged his arm. “Can you wait?! I thought you didn’t like vegetables!”

“Aang got me to like carrots!” Sokka retorted, before quickly reaching around Y/N to grab another and popping it into his mouth.

“Why would you be sitting on the table that we have to eat off of?” Suki wrinkled her nose.

“Uh! Katara said I could!” Y/N stuck her tongue out.

Katara whipped around, hands on her hips. “I never said you could, I just didn’t say you couldn’t.” Katara turned back to stirring the stew before muttering under her breath, “Not like telling you no would have made a difference anyways.”

“Hey!” Y/N picked up a carrot and launched it at the back of Katara’s head.

Aang walked back inside carrying a bucket of water, to a kitchen full of chaos. Vegetables were being thrown across the room at one another, as laughter rang out. Sokka, Zuko and Y/N were sprawled on one side of the kitchen behind and under the table; with Suki, Katara and Toph only edging from behind the safety of the kitchen doorway to throw something.

For the first time in a long time, Y/N could hear the exasperation of a 112 year old monk in Aang’s usually cheerful voice.“Uh, guys, what are we supposed to eat for dinner now?”

---

Y/N was dozing against the headboard of her bed that night, when she heard the knock at her door. At first she thought she imagined it, that is until she heard a voice on the other side of the doorway. “Y/N, are you awake?”

Y/N slid out of bed and cracked open the door. She smiled and leaned against the doorjamb, a familiar feeling in her chest.

“Are you afraid that there are ghosts here too?”

Sokka grinned and nodded. “In this house? Absolutely. But I’m not here for that.”

“Oh?” Y/N raised an eyebrow.

“Come outside with me.”

Y/N chuckled. “Why?”

“Please, just come on. No questions.”

Y/N sighed and reached for an old silk robe she found in one of the closets, but her smile never left her face.

To be fair to Sokka, there wasn’t much to surprise Y/N with on an island she grew up on. But that night, the sky momentarily took her breath away.

Sometimes the simplest things were the most beautiful.

“I thought we could come out here; look at the stars a bit. I used to like doing that at home. Though it’s different. The constellations aren’t the same where I’m from.”

“I guess I’ll just have to teach you some.”

Together they laid side by side on the roof, and Y/N pointed out her favorites. The dragon, the jack-rabbit...

After Y/N had told Sokka the story of the Red Queen, some ancient fable of a powerful Fire Lady that was always one of Y/N’s favorites, they both grew quiet, Y/N asked the question that had been brewing on her mind. She worried that whatever she said would mess up the peaceful night they had been having. It felt like she was intruding on a secret that she wasn’t supposed to know.

“Hey, Sokka,” Y/N asked.

“Hmmm,” She looked over and Sokka looked about half asleep already. Maybe this would be good timing.

“Who’s Yue?”

Sokka’s eyes shot open and he sat up quickly. “What?”

Y/N could feel her face flush. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to know.

“Yue.” The word sounded flat and foreign on her tongue. Maybe that wasn’t how you actually pronounced it? Some of the Water Tribe names and words were hard for Y/N’s mouth to form. If she could, she flushed deeper. “I heard you talking about them when I was hurt. I was in and out of it, so I don’t remember much, but I remember the name.”

Sokka suddenly looked very sad. Which was… odd because Y/N just thought that Yue was a Water Tribe spirit much like the Fire Nation had Agni.

“She’s the moon spirit,” Sokka whispered, his eyes cast down on his wringing hands.

Y/N eyes were wide. Why was he acting like this? “Oh. I figured she was a spirit or something. It sounded like you were praying to her, or something.”

“Yeah,” Sokka choked out. “Something like that.”

That’s when Y/N noticed there were drips of water on Sokka’s hands. Tears.

“Sokka?” Y/N said softly. She reached forward and–yup those were tears, dripping on their hands.

“She was a girl I met at the Northern Water Tribe when we first started traveling.”

“I thought she was…”

“She is.” For the first time, Sokka looked up. The pain in his eyes was unimaginable. “But she was still a girl when I met her.”

Sokka launched into a story that sounded more fantasy than real, but the look on his face, the sadness in his features, Y/N knew he was telling the truth.

“She was blessed by the moon spirit when she was born, it was the only reason she was alive. But when we were in the Northern Water Tribe—Zhao, a Fire Nation commander killed the moon spirit and all the water benders lost their bending, forever.” Sokka shivered. “It was scary, the moon was gone in the sky and we were helpless to fight the Fire Nation. It would have changed the tide of the war.

But she was selfless. She knew that she was the only hope for her tribe—for the world—and she sacrificed herself to save all of us. So now she’s the moon spirit…I guess. I don’t know, she’ll always be Yue to me.” Sokka’s voice trailed off with a sniffle. Y/N didn’t know how to respond.

Sokka sent a longing glance upward. The moon was just past full, waning in the far distance but still bright and round in the sky. “I think–I think she heard me that night. And she knew how much you meant to me, even then. And she saved you because…” Now it was Sokka’s turn to flush. “I don’t think I could live without you.”

Those words made Y/N’s chest burn. Her arms and legs tingled in relief as if all the tension in her body began to melt away. Y/N reached out, wiping a stray tear off of Sokka’s cheek. “Me either,” she replied instantly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“’m not. Sad, really. I miss her, but it’s easier to always know where she is. She didn’t have a lot of choice in her life, but this was something she had control over. If she hadn’t become the moon spirit, the war would have ended right there. So her sacrifice meant that, you know, Zuko is our friend now and Aang has a chance at beating the Firelord and you have a place in all our lives. She made all of this possible.”

“Sounds like we have a lot more to be thankful to her for than just saving little old me then, huh?”

“You would have liked her.”

Y/N nodded and peered at the moon above them. “I do like her.”

No one else needed to know that after the two of them went inside and off to bed, that Y/N hung halfway out her window to get one last look at the moon. Y/N swore as her eyes closed and sleep overtook her that the moon shone a little brighter. Maybe that’s how the moon said thank you. Y/N’d never tell anyone that she whispered a small thank you too, to the girl who lived among the stars.

a/n: don't be shy, come talk to me in my askbox and tell me if you liked it

taglist: @myexgirlfriendisthemoon @reclusive-chicken-nugget @astroninaaa @aangsupremacy @beifongsss @crownofcryptids @welovediaaxx @littlefluu @lozzybowe @thebluelcdy @teenbiology @13-09-01 @riespage @davnwillcome @creation-magician @lunariasilver @francesciak @thia-aep @aphrcditeee @solarsuki @my--shitty--art @lovingcupcake51002 @loganrwebb @celia-not-cecilia @treestarrrrrrrr @izzieserra @salsasadd @nataliahaslosthershit @awkwardnesshabitat @lanie103  @im-the-galactic-starfish @charlotteisabella  @sugamonster22  @calumsfringe @whatsuphoesandbros @i-love-superhero @justasukisimp @grouchiest-hufflepuff  @euphoricmads @ivetoldamillionlies @fanficsformyperusal @mikxyu @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @someonekeepstakingmyusernames @earthtokace @justamessandahalf @perfectlyfadingmusic @atlafanforlife @iris-suoh @chilifrylizard2

[heecyon]

Enhypen Little Angels Series: When they find out their s/o is pregnant

warnings: cursing, mentions of miscarriage and hospitals, collapsing, vomiting and couvade syndrome (for Sunghoon and Sunoo)

this happens before the og enha little angels

taglist: @skyaura-koo @serendipityclick @en-sun @envirae @exulansis-eun @gamezzzz

Pls tell me if I forgot anyone from the taglist and I'll fix it immediately.

I'll try to fix any grammar mistakes. Sorry for the delay

word count: 1,523 words

Lee Heeseung:

“Heeseung... What if i'm really pregnant?” Mina said bouncing on her feet.

Being nervous wasn't the words that she would use to describe how she feeling at the moment.

“If you are pregnant, then that means that our child will have the most amazing mother and the most amazing father.” He set his hands around Mina's waist, then accommodated his head on her shoulder.

“I'm not talking about that.” She sighed, looking at the ring on her finger.

“You mean... the loss?” Mina nodded, her gaze was sad and her eyes were glossy.

“It wasn't your fault jagi, and I know that you fear that the same thing will happen again, but I promise you that everything will turn out for good.” Heeseung placed a soft kiss on his wife's lips, then unified his forehead with hers.

“I think... I'll go check the test.” Mina said before placing a kiss in Heeseung's cheek and going to the bathroom to see the results.

He waited a few seconds and then...

“Heeseung, I'm actually pregnant!”

Park Jongseong

“How many times do I have to tell you that I'm fine?” Bella said looking at IV hooked on her hand.

Jay kept walking around the hospital room, he was a little bit mad, he thought that Bella hadn't taken care of herself as he told her to.

“As many times as you want, because it's not gonna work for me, or make me feel better.” He kept pacing around back and forth, trying to keep himself calm.

“If you keep rambling nothing will be solved.” Jay huffed, as he pinched the skin of his left arm.

“And if you keep dismissing your health nothing will get solved!”

Bella groaned, sometimes Jay could be way to stubborn.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I've been taking care of myself.” She pouted.

“It doesn't seem like that to me.”

Just in time the doctor appeared on the room.

“What is it doctor? Is she healthy?” She smiled at Jay and then at Bella.

“Well, there isn't any problem... Except that you have high levels of HCG.”

They both looked at the doctor completely confused.

“This high level of HCG only appears on pregnancy. Congratulations, you are pregnant.”

If they were confused before then, I don't know how to describe how they felt by the moment.

“Huh?!”

Shim Jaeyun

“Do you think is something bad?”

Jake shook his head, while looking around the doctor's office. He was way more anxious than what he showed, but he tried his best to stay calm for Teagan.

It had been days since Teagan started vomiting and having nausea, to the point that she spent most days locked in the bathroom and nearly fell down the stairs because of how dizzy she felt.

“I'm done! I'm taking you to the doctors!”

Teagan looked at him dumbfounded. Why did he wanted to take her to the doctors so suddenly.

“But I feel fine.”

“Being fine is not nearly falling down the stairs because of dizziness.”

Teagan hated hospitals with all her might, and always tried everything to avoid them, but guess who still drag her to the hospital? Jake!

The doctor finally entered the office, making the couple turn their gaze to him.

He gave them a small smile, before saying:

“I already have your lab results...”

Jake grabbed his wife's hand, trying to calm himself down a little and also reassuring her that everything will be okay.

In the best case he thought you had a stomach bug. In the worst case you could some kind of terminal illness.

... But gladly those weren't the cases.

“It seems like you have high levels of human chorionic gonadotropin.” Teagan looked at the doctor with a dumbfounded gaze.

“What those that mean?” Teagan looked at the doctor and then looked at Jake who was in shock, but then spoke.

“It means... that you are pregnant.”

Park Sunghoon

... It started when Sunghoon started having symptoms. Hyeyoung noticed how tired Sunghoon was does days and how he started having cravings... A lot of cravings.

“And can you please add an extra order of fries please?” “Thank you.”

He hanged up on the call while Hyeyoung looked at him weirded out.

“You sure you are okay?” She walked up to him, seating beside him on the sofa.

“Yeah, why wouldn't I be?”

“Well... because you are acting like a pregnant woman.”

Sunghoon giggled a little, before he realised that...

“Hyeyoung? When was the last time that you had your period?” The girl looked down for moment, and then she finally realised what was going on.

Now they were both looking at the positive pregnancy on their hands.

“Oh shit!”

“OH HOLY SHIT!”

Kim Sunoo

Another case of couvade syndrome...

“Ah! Noona! Sunoo-Hyung just fainted!” Aera ran to the studio and saw the boys fanning Sunoo to make him feel better.

Sunno saw Aera's worried expression and then smiled at her to ease her up.

“I'm fine jagiya. I'm just tired.” He stood up with the help of his oldest members.

He walked up to Aera, who changed her expression suddenly, she started feeling way to dizzy and all off the sudden she lost her balance and collapse on Sunoo's.

The rest of the members started shouting worriedly and asked the staff to call medical help.

“I guess we have the same condition or something.” Sunoo spoke when they where both in the doctors office waiting for both of their results.

“It's probably the flu, or a cold is kicking our butts.” Aera chucked and Sunoo giggled a little.

The doctor entered the room, with the results on his hands.

“Well it seems like Sunoo is pretty healthy and there is no reason for your collapse, except that you have couvade syndrome.” He frowned at the doctors words wanting a clear explanation.

“It's when a partner presents the same symptoms as their pregnant partner.” Aera was the one frowning at that moment. Was the doctor saying what she thought he was saying?

“I'm sorry, but my wife is not...”

“The fuck?! She's pregnant?!”

Yang Jungwon

This boy rushed to the hospital the moment that he got a call from her mom, saying that Mirae had fallen down the stairs.

He freaked out, but when he got there Mirae explained him that she had blacked out and that made her fall down three steps of stairs.

“Are you sure you don't feel pain or anything?” Jungwon played with her hair, while he sat on her hospital bed.

“Wonie, I'm fine, it's just a small bruise”

“And a concussion.” Mirae's mother blurted that out of nowhere. Which made the girl murmured a "Mom" angrily.

“Ah! I guess I'll stay up with you all night.” He said rubbing her shoulders.

“I also have something else to tell you...” She grabbed a strand of hair and started playing with it.

“Hmm?” Jungwon payed all his attention ontu her.

“The doctor did a few tests... Everything's okay, but...” She passed and stayed quiet for while.

“What's wrong Rae, you can tell me anything, remember?” Jungwon smiled showing his cute dimples.

Mirae sighed, inhaled... Then exhaled.

“I'm pregnant.”

Jungwon seemed in shock by what she had just blurted out, but then started laughing immediately.

He was happy, obviously he was... But then he paused.

“When did I made you a baby?”

Nishimura Riki

They where both visiting Niki's parents in Japan, they where on vacations so they used that to pay a visit to them.

Mei Lin wasn't feeling that good throughout the whole way to her in laws house, she felt like throwing up the ride in the plane, but she thought it was just motion sickness.

“You sure you are okay? If you don't feel well enough, we can stay at the hotel and go tomorrow.” Niki wasn't that sure of what to do at the moment, but he thought it would pass in a few hours.

“No, I think I still feel bad because of the flight, but it'll pass in a few minutes, I promise.” She said patting Niki's head before calling over a taxi.

They got home pretty fast and had dinner. They were both enjoying their time, but something about the food just made Mei feel nauseated. So she covered her mouth and nose with her left hand.

The family noticed pretty fast and Niki's sister was already looking for a pill to calm Mei's stomach down.

While Niki was rubbing her back, his mother commented.

“You know, this reminds me of the symptoms I had when I had a few weeks of pregnancy with Riki.” She laughed it off, but something about just made the rest of the family including Mei freeze.

“I think... I'll just go get a pregnancy test.”

Everybody's eyes widened and the thought of their daughter in law being pregnant was kinda shocking.

An hour later, a positive pregnacy test was on the couple's hands.

Niki and Mei were both in complete shock, they were happy of course... But still shocked.

“I wasn't expecting you guys to take me seriously when I said «I want grandchildren as soon as possible.»”

[hotdamnhunnam]

Also, since I can’t help myself, let’s have my second favorite Charlie character: Raymond Smith with the emojis:

👩‍🎓🧜‍♀️💃

Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! 💗

..................................................

The Professor’s Princess

(Sequel to Professor Smith)

Pairing: Raymond Smith x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, kitchen counter sex Word Count: ~800 Emoji Prompt: 👩‍🎓🧜‍♀️💃 (key words are in bold)

Recommend reading Professor Smith first! (but this can also be read as a standalone of course)

A month has passed since graduation.

Since then you’ve been spending summer as the girlfriend of the most beautiful man in all creation. Every day feels like a fucking celebration—getting ravaged by Professor Raymond Smith at every hour of the day in every possible position, every surface of his office and his bedroom and his kitchen.

Since you’re no longer his student both of you can rest assured knowing your romance doesn’t violate propriety. Yet even so this still feels new and just a little bit taboo and you prefer to go about your business quietly.

Till tonight at least—decidedly, should you agree… Professor Smith intends to take you to a fancy formal dance and show you off. To let the world know you’re his ladylove. Finally.

Your man is waiting for you downstairs in a spiffy pinstriped button-up and fine silk tie and sharply tailored vest, sipping a stiff drink while you finish getting dressed. Needless to say he’s seen you naked and in all manner of outfits—but he’s never seen you formally attired and tonight you feel that you’re looking your best, so you are quite giddy about this.

The gorgeous gown you’re wearing for the evening was hand-picked by Ray: a present for your one-month anniversary just yesterday. He knew it’d flatter all your curves and that you’d sparkle in this chic shimmery fabric cut to frame your lovely figure in a mermaid silhouette. But he’s not seen it on you yet.

When you at last appear atop his stately staircase, you can hear him gasp and taste the adoration written all across his face. The way this stunning dress accentuates your assets… has his heart beating its fastest. Ray has never seen such elegance and grace, such class and beauty… trying not to stare too rudely, at his perfect little princess as he fidgets where he sits and nervously adjusts his glasses.

Time to head off to the dance—yet as you spin around to show off how spectacular your ass is… smile at him over your shoulder with a sultry backward glance… Professor Smith finds that he has a massive problem in his pants.

He stands up from his seat and takes a few steps towards you, so consumed with how intensely he adores you. Finest thing to ever graduate from college. Fucking flawless. Can’t believe that you’re all his. He’s all yours too.

“You’re the most stunning thing I’ve ever fucking witnessed,” he pronounces as if hypnotized, blue stars bright in his crystal eyes. “Look like a magic fairy fucking princess.”

Hearing whimsical words like this off of Professor Smith’s pragmatic lips is more than just a little bit ridiculous. He’s typically not one for Disney business. But he’s dizzy in your presence and it’s clear how stiff his dick is.

Though you’re dizzy in his presence too, you have enough wits still about you just to tease him as you often love to do. “Why thank you darling. Though I daresay you’re too old to be this princess’s Prince Charming…”

He laughs it off given that it’s a running joke and you’re both perfectly comfortable with your age difference. “This princess doesn’t need a prince…” he counters as he sweeps you off your feet like you’re a mermaid on the beach or something. “She needs a motherfucking king.”

And so Professor Smith reminds you what a king he fucking is. Spreading you facedown on the counter of his kitchen so that he can carefully remove your dress while marveling aloud that you’re all fucking his.

You would’ve loved it very much, if he’d just ripped the dress to shreds—laid bare your skin for him to touch—to fuck you dead. No doubt a part of him does want that but this dress had been a gift for your first milestone together, and he knows it’s something you intend to treasure, so he takes it slow instead.

His every move sends sugar plums dancing throughout your hazy head. Professor Smith has studied every last inch of your body like a poem to be read, a masterpiece, a fucking feast for the senses. To memorize, the way you make the whole world magic in his eyes, the way you mesmerize. To squeeze and please. To taste and tease and treat with kisses. And above all else to cherish like a precious fucking princess.

Don’t even care that you’ll be late, for your first formal public date. When you’re at home with your professor nothing matters past these walls. Nothing at all. The only thought in Raymond’s head this very instant as he towers over you so big and tall… is that he needs you now and cannot wait. Your pretty little cunt needs to be ate. Then railed and ravaged till you can’t fucking see straight.

That’s sure to solve the pressing problem in his pants. And then your king can wrap you in this magic mermaid fairy princess dress again and whisk you to the dance.

..................................................

Emoji Fic Masterlist

Emoji Fic Tag List – below; if you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know!

@happyhunnams @band--psycho @est11 @edonaspanca @starbooty @innerpaperexpertcloud @i-love-scott-mccall @six-camelot @alexa-rae-dreamz @coffeebooksandfandom @thesuicidalflower @flaireandsynch @helloheyhihowdyheya @gemini0410 @waywardodysseys @zozebo @bettergetusetoit @emilykjh @little-diable @rocketqueen @mrspeacem1nusone @miss-smutty @rayslittlekitten @abby-splace @chubbychubbs28 @miraclesoflove @tegggeeee @hunnambabe @missusnora @kesskirata @vixenrebellion @thexhostess @pomegranatearildreams @kandii395 @severewobblerlightdragon @itspdameronthings @niki-xie @cind-in-real-life @saweetspoiled @poge-life @few-proud-emotonal @samanthaisnthome @melodranas @soaharleys @charlie-hunnams-old-lady @simpmasterjr @nataliewalker93 @lovebarefootblonde @marvelousmermaid @tsukuyomi011 @sciapod

[linksthoughtbrambles]

[Link's love for someone is directly proportional to how badly he wants to stuff food in their face.]

Part 27 of Link's Thought Brambles

“I suppose I should call this dictation three, though I’m now aware it may be interrupted by Link should he slip into a dream.

“It appears my power was mine all along. Invisible. Had I been a farmer’s daughter, helping to haul loads, build fences, and wrangle stubborn cows, I might have known. It does not escape me that my own tendencies toward intellectualism contributed to our ignorance.

“Link… Reviewing his thoughts today was a more arduous task than usual. He had returned to his silent self as we ascended the steps back to our chambers and apparently spent the entire time ruminating on how he could have avoided angering my father. I would have much preferred him to have focused on the feel of his arm about my shoulders as I supported him. To- to perhaps have turned his face toward mine, needing comfort. I might have rested him on the steps, taken his face in my hands, and kissed him. Instead, I got him to his room where he all but collapsed into bed. I’ve insisted that he take tomorrow entirely off again. He need not be off his feet, but I refuse to saddle him with any obligations. He, of course, attempted to argue, but I refused to alter my position.

“My father—while he is no fool—has once again failed to discern what’s important. He has a political sense, to be sure. But people’s opinions of their king are not as important as the hero’s state of mind. I do not believe my affection for Link has blinded me in this.

“I find myself—each night, I swipe the screen up, toward the top. Less than a week ago, he was anxious and conflicted, yes, but also with a joyful way of examining the world around him. Seeing value and humor in nearly all things. It hasn’t disappeared entirely—but the stresses of the past days have been too much. I am shocked that he actually believed, for a few moments, that my father might execute him! How quickly that spiraled out of control in his mind. How do I… How do I help?

“My father, I’d imagine, is already well on his way to devising a plan addressing his public relations problem. It’s up to me to help Link. Perhaps… perhaps the place to begin is honesty. I ought- I truly ought- to tell him of the slate. Or might that make things worse? He would certainly be disappointed in me and likely embarrassed in the extreme. I’ve no wish to inflict that on him.

“But If he discovers this before I tell him, that would be worst of all. The longer this goes on, the easier it would be for me to unintentionally mention something he has never voiced. I could of course attempt to stop reading this. Perhaps that is an acceptable middle-ground for now?

“I must think on it.”

-----

Hehe. Okay, okay, I know you missed me, you’ve been showing me so for the last half hour. Ah- hey, hey, that’s my sleeve, you’re gonna chew a hole in it. Let me finish brushing- ha- ah hahaha- wow, fine, fine, I’ll stay still. Hair HAIR ugh. Wet. Who likes making my bangs stick up? You do. You want chin scratches, too, don’t you? Yes you do.

It’s great that you still have all your shoes. I was being paranoid. If I felt better, I’d take you out today. Probably isn’t a great idea, though. If I get dizzy and fall off you, I could be back at square one. And someone could steal my awesome pouch. That would be a shame, wouldn’t it? I still have all those monster guts in there. Not that anyone else would know. I wonder if it works if you reach in there and you don’t know what you’re looking for?

Lucky for you, I know EXACTLY what I’m looking for. Heeeere it is!

Good thing they put these on my breakfast tray this morning. I still… well, I haven’t been back in the mess. Not yet. Next time we’re out I’ll try to pick a bunch of apples for you, okay? If you’re really lucky we’ll see some wild carrots, but probably not.

There you are. Feel nice? Heh. Good. Other side. After you, I’ll check on Tass, too. I know the stablehands groom you all, but he gets sullen when his rider doesn’t tend to him. Which, you know, is all the time.

I should really talk to her about that now that we’re on speaking terms. Have to be wary about criticizing her, but hopefully all of that will ease up now that it’s clear she has magic of her own. Even if it’s not what people expected.

Advice, Link. Advice, not criticism.

Sorry girl, I still don’t have any sugar. I never went shopping in town. Aw. AW. Don’t give me those eyes! Next time, hopefully.

You’re really in great shape. They take good care of you, here. No need for me to keep brushing except that you like it. One more minute.

Okay. Nose rubs for you. I’ll say bye before I leave the stable, too. Promise.

“You sent for me, father?”

Alright, Tass. Your turn.

“Yes. We’re drawing up plans for a celebration in honor of you, my dear.”

Oooh hoooo hoohoo. That’s some testy look. I know I don’t ride you but you still like my scratches, not to mention my apples. I brought one for you, too.

“Oh.”

Woah, watch the teeth, boy! Holy Hylia. You’re in a mood, aren’t you?

“I thought you might wish to review the arrangements ahead of time.”

Apple dribbles. Blech.

“The meeting will occur this afternoon at 2 o’clock. Council room.”

Here’s my palm. That’s right. There. Yeah, you like that. Even if you’re pissy. You want the brush?

“I will be attending to other things, but I thought you’d like to be there.”

Okay.

“Yes. Thank you, father.”

Your coat really is stunning, you know that? Pure white. Not at all common. Well, I guess that’s why you’re the Princess’ horse, huh? You look all fancy. Too bad she doesn’t know what to do with you. I’d feel bad for you, except I’d like her to ride me whether she knew what to do with me or not.

I’m… glad I didn’t say that out loud.

Wow, Link. Your mind went to the gutter quickly. Stop doing the things that got you in a huge mess.

You can love her and not be all physical about it, can’t you? You can separate those things, right? In theory? Even though he was majorly, majorly pissed off, the king specifically mentioned loyalty and affection for her, and didn’t seem to think it was a bad thing. Saved my ass, really. I f&@#ed up royally, yesterday.

Hahaha. Royally. Wow, Link. Your brain was gnawing on THAT one in your sleep.

I wonder what he’s going to do. Make me write a speech or something? Apologize?

Huh?

Oh! Hi! What’re you- ?

.

I- smile, Link, smile, yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Mending- She’s glowing already? No, no no, Mipha, that’s not necessary, I’m not dying.

.

Someone else could actually be on their deathbed!

.

Mipha-

Like entering a pool of warm water. Entirely submerged. She really didn’t have to… feels good, though. Thigh knitting. Headache ebbing. Swelling down. Joints easing.

It’s always a little hard to read her eyes. Their shape isn’t the same as a Hylian’s. And when she smiles, it’s so small. I know when she’s amused because she crinkles up and closes her eyes. What her expression means now, though? She’s sure intense. Focused. Concentrating. Her hands are expressive. She reaches out to reassure and lifts one to her mouth when she giggles. The Zora like to talk with their hands.

I think I miss that. I’m so bad at interpreting Hylian innuendo that the Zora’s honest hands are a relief, even if their faces are different. I don’t think a Zora has ever tried to imply something to me without just coming out and saying it.

Then again… you’re pretty dense, Link. You might just not pick up on it. Not one bit.

The light. It’s fading. Why- why am I still so tired? And what’s that tight feeling in my chest?

.

Um. A lot better, thanks!

Oh. You didn’t manage a real smile, Link. Can she tell? Are Zora as bad at reading your face as you are at reading theirs?

Hmm. Bazz is easier. He makes big grins.

Better test out the legs. Even if you do feel a little funny.

Hop!

.

There’s that giggle-hand.

Thanks, Mipha. Really.

.

.

Oh, no, this is the Princess’ horse. His name’s Tass.

.

Huh? Let me see.

.

You’re right. I never bothered looking at the nameplate. What does Taciturn Morphology mean?!

.

Well, yeah I get taciturn I guess…

Wow, Princess. You named your horse after his not getting along with you very well? You need help.

Yeah, I’m just going to keep calling him Tass. It’s nicer.

.

Nope, I don’t know what morphology means, either. How much you wanna bet it’s a math word?

.

Yeah, she’s super-smart. So what brought you here?

.

Oh.

.

Ooooh. So you heard about that, huh?

.

Yeah, it was unpleasant.

.

How did you get here so fast?!

.

Ooooh. Oh, that makes sense. Bet you had to travel light.

.

Heh. Yeah, I’m trying to talk a little more.

.

Well- I would, actually, but would you mind if we did that a little later? I was just telling Rionee I’d take her out to stretch her legs if I felt better. And, well, now I do. I feel bad just leaving her. You want to get your other business finished and I’ll see you later?

.

You really came here just for me?! You didn’t have to do that.

.

Wow. Uh. Well, you could ride with me-

.

Right, yeah, you don’t ride. Makes sense. Do you think you could hold on to my back?

.

Oh. Yeah, sure. I’m not sure if she’s heading to the training yard or not this morning.

.

So, that news didn’t reach you, yet, huh? I won’t spoil the surprise. See for yourself!

.

Yep, see you later. Hey Mipha- good to see you. Oh, did Bazz come? Or Rivan?

.

Aw. Okay.

.

Hey, girl. Guess what? I can ride you today!

I should feel really bad that Mipha's not coming. Especially since she came here because she heard I got beat up. I kind of want to be alone, though. At least for a little while.

Don't beat yourself up, Link. You offered to let her come. She said no. Not your fault. Yeah, you did the polite thing. And you'll talk to her later.

-----

You LOVE these things, Link.

So much that your mouth reflexively flooded at a whiff of the smell. Kind of nice to stand in line drooling like all the other foodies looking for an unreasonably early lunch WITHOUT people wondering if I’m drooling over a woman instead.

Not that she isn’t worth drooling over.

Gross, Link.

Why do you think gross things? Stop thinking about her for ten minutes. Buy your meat cakes. Buy two rolls. Stuff one meat cake onto a roll and stuff the whole thing in your face. Save the other one for later in your magical time-stopping pouch. Then go get your poor horse some sugar.

What’s taking so long? Is this lady actually arguing with the guy who makes the best food in town? What can she possibly be upset about? They make ONE THING here and they sell it for the same price every day. It’s not like there are options. Maybe she wants to see what mysteries he keeps under the stall. Hylia, I’d love to see that.

Er.

Again, I’m glad I didn’t say that out loud.

Of course, it would be pretty easy to explain I meant how he cooks these things.

And how he keeps it going ALL DAY. It doesn’t seem like there’s enough room to fit all the food he goes through. Then again, I’m not around here all the time. Someone probably delivers him ingredients or something. He must take bathroom breaks. Right? He can’t just be standing here all the time. What if he is, though? How does he stand it? Does he not eat or drink anything so he doesn’t have to relieve himself all day? That would be terrible. How could anyone stand here smelling all that deliciousness and STARVE THEMSELVES?! No… no… relax, Link… this is all in your head. Look at him. Does he look like a guy who’s starving? No. He’s all happy-chef lines on his face. No cook looks like that if they’re not sampling the wares.

Oh good. She’s done.

Next.

Almost there. This person seems reasonable… they’re ordering food… and handing him rupees…! AND DONE!

Hi!! Two, please.

I got a funny look. Guess I got overly-excited.

.

Thanks.

Come on, Rionee. Just around the corner. It’s not the best bake-shop in town, but it’s the closest to that cart. Their rolls are good enough. You don’t want a heavily flavored roll with those meat cakes. Too much competition.

Wow. Lots of mini-fruitcakes in the window. LOTS.

Hi. Yeah, can I get two plain rolls, please?

.

What’s with all the fruitcakes?

.

Huh?

.

Uuuh.

.

How did you... how did you know about that?

.

You WHAT?!

.

You- you! You- ooooh! Do you have any idea what you caused?!?!?! Holy CRAP!

Get a hold of yourself, Link. Don’t beat this guy up. Don’t even reach across the counter. Clench your fists, sure. Breathe like a pneumonic hinox. Feel free. But do NOT hit him. He’s just an idiot. It’s not a crime to be stupid. Fortunately for you!

Look, Mister- okay, Toureni- next time you submit a recipe that involves a person, do a little research first, okay?

.

Because she thought it was an insult.

.

Because fruitcake.

.

FRUITCAKE.

.

Yes, yes, it is her favorite, that’s not the point. The word FRUITCAKE. What does that mean? Yeah, I know it’s the cakes behind me, I mean what ELSE does it mean?

.

Yeeeeeah, you get it now, you’re starting to see. Okay. NOW, let’s inspect the rest of that ridiculous blurb you wrote. I read it so many times I have it memorized. ‘Eating this dish will apparently clear your head and help you focus on things such as ancient technology research.’

.

What do you MEAN what’s wrong with that? Are you fricking kidding me?!

Alright… look, I’m sorry. You clearly don’t get it. Eating this dish will APPARENTLY clear your head.

APPARENTLY.

Like oooOOooo, APPARENTLY, my bakery just isn’t good enough, I have to make people think I sell the Princess’ favorite food! Which I do, but I have to make sure you KNOW IT!

.

No?

.

Wow.

.

Look, I’m bad with innuendo, but I’m pretty good with words. Your words were NOT COOL. They were words of- of- desert-ruiningness!

.

I AM good with words, I’m just flustered!

.

Well, if I were you, I’d write a note of apology to the Princess and bake her a gigantic fricking fruitcake with the silkiest icing you’ve ever made.

.

No, she 100% believes that description was meant to criticize her interest in science.

.

Yep.

.

Nope.

.

Can I have those rolls, now?

.

Of course I still want them. I’m still hungry.

.

Nope, I’ll skip it. Just the rolls, please.

.

Thanks.

.

And apologize!

.

WOW. WOW. It was NONE of them! NONE of the cooks in the kitchen wrote that nasty fruitcake entry. Color me Pink Link. He didn’t even KNOW!! He’s just oblivious!

I have to tell her about this.

I have to tell the cooks in the kitchen about this. And ask them to make a special celebratory fruitcake. I'll stuff her full of so much of it she'll be sick or be fat. Eh, she'll need the energy anyway if she's going to be more physical. Maybe she'll be like me. It doesn't seem to matter how much food I snarf, I stay the same size anyway.

This does mean I have to go to the mess.

You can do it, Link. You can do it.

For now... Yes. One meat cake. One roll. Squish meat cake on bottom half of roll. Place top half on top. Inhale deeply, otherwise it's over too fast. Breathe out your mouth. HUGE BITE. Chew slowly, Link. Sloooowly. Savor it.

Oh, it's like... it's like... I don't even know what it's like, that's part of why it's so amazing. Is it like a meatball? Kind of. Far, far softer on the inside. A lot bigger, too. Is it like a meatloaf? Again, kind of. Heavily flavored but not even sort of with the same stuff, and again way, way softer. How do they keep it so soft? Is that... are there itty bitty tiny pieces of celery in there? Like a quarter of a centimeter wide? Softened from the cooking? I never picked up on that before. The grated chickaloo nut is just absolutely perfect in there. It goes straight to the nose.

Ooh, and here we go again. People in the street are staring at me. At least this time I know it's only because I look weird when I eat.

-----

Rionee wanted to run as much as I wanted to get out of that place. She’s a small horse but WOW can she pound her hooves fast, like she’s trying to beat an imaginary racer beside her. Oh- Oh, I guess we’re not stopping at those little dappled woods. That’s okay. We can circle around the ceremonial ground and look for apple trees. Not the best day for laying around in the grass with a picnic. Too cold. The doublet’s okay but with Rionee’s wind flapping in my face I’ll get cold quick. Especially my eyeballs.

Rionee just wants to go. I can relax. Trust her. Just ride.

Lots of clouds coming in from the east. Looks like rain later.

“This is perfect.”

Maybe an hour or two?

“Absolutely perfect!”

Puffies above me right now, though.

“Oh—where is Link? Where did he get to?”

That one looks like a Royal Guard’s Shield.

“There’s time before this meeting, to be sure.”

Not that it’s hard to look like one of those.

“Of course this opportunity would present itself when I gave him the day off.”

A couple points in the right places and two sloping sides, and you pretty much have it.

“For all I know, he’ll be gone all day.”

Make some effort, clouds!

“I must find him.”

Look at you, Link. Blaming the clouds for your lack of imagination. Though granted when you really want to imagine something, you conjure up plenty of details… Don’t think about such details on your horse, though. Look up. Find some more complicated shapes.

What’s that? Did someone lose a banner or something? It’s shiny. The wind must be fierce up there to keep it up like that.

Wait. It’s moving the wrong way.

.

This is very strange.

Looks like it’s losing parts of itself in the wind. Maybe.

.

Rionee’s galloping awfully hard and it’s not getting any bigger. Must be very far away? If it is, though, it’d have to be huge.

It… it’s not the Calamity, is it??? Is it????

.

No. No, I don’t think so. You’d think the Calamity would be heading toward the ground to… I don’t know… eat people or something. Not fluttering around peacefully in a blue sky full of cloud puffs. Despite the rainclouds coming closer.

If it IS far off in the distance it'd be hidden by the plateau and the hills to the east from most angles. I’m in just the right spot.

”Ah- pardon me, have you seen Sir Link?”

Aaaaaand there it goes.

“Yes, Princess, he was on the path to the first gatehouse earlier.”

Behind Scout’s Hill. Holy Hylia, it WAS absurdly far away.

“Stable most likely, then. Thank you. May I ask your name?”

Wonder if they could see that from East Post?

“M- MY name, Highness?!”

Probably not… too close to the hills.

“Yes.”

“I- I’m Lundun.”

“Thank you, Lundun.”

I’ll have to ask the Princess about it.

-----

“Good morning, Princess!”

“Good morning, Irst.”

There have to be some left around, here, right? Keep an eye out, Link. Any left are likely to be way high up the tree at this point. It’s very very very VERY late in the season and all the kids in central Hyrule have been picking apples for months.

No…

None there, either…

AH! Rionee, you are far too sneaky for a critter with hooves.

Hehe, okay, yeah that’s my shoulder. I already know you love me, do you have to get my doublet all wet?

Lookiiiing for applllllles doo do doooo

And trying not to look toward the ceremonial grouuuuuund… because that was really reaaaaaaally unpleasaaaaant…

It should’ve been nice to kneel at the Princess’ feet and be blessed. It probably would be now, but- oh. Oh, are the clergy going to expect me to make good on that blessing thing now that we know her power’s awake? Maybe I should talk to her about thAHF-

Pttwf. Yuck. Leaves in my mouth. Watch where you’re going, Link.

Oh, ugh. Dry leaves. Thptw. Oh come on, get out of my mouth. Stuck to my tongue. Nasty- thptw thptw

Yeah, Rionee, okay, that’s not helping, horse kisses are great but not exactly effective- nothing for it, gotta pick the bits out. Happily, there is not a single person around to see this. Good thing I have a second sandwich for my second lunch. This has totally ruined the lingering meat cake taste- oh, that was far back, how did it get there?

Pretty sure I ate some of that. Oh well. Yet more evidence the chosen hero was chosen by an idiot.

Ooooh. Oooooh, Link that was sacrilege!!!! Sorry. Sorry sorry sorry sorry and I said it right by the ceremonial ground, too, SORRY!!!! EeeeEEEeeee.

What’s wrong with you, Link?!

You know what, the answer is everything. EVERYTHING is wrong with you. You’re short, skinny, distractable, gluttonous, thick-headed, and lately you’ve been an absolute mess of nerves. Even the things about you that're supposed to be good aren’t helpful for what’s coming. Mom always said I was the kindest, gentlest boy she knew. That’s probably not such a good thing if you’re fighting a merciless, ancient demon. I should be grateful I truly am unnaturally good at swordfighting. That’s something. And it’s clearly why it’s me. I just wish the rest of me made any sense.

Maybe that's why the sword doesn't talk to me. It's flabbergasted at my unheroicness.

Uuuugh, stop thinking about it. Still no apples. Maybe-

Huh? What did I step in?

Eww. Well. That apple was long past its prime. By like two weeks. But….

Yup! Apples!

“Hello, Brinn.”

I can, and will, get the rest of them.

“Ah, Princess, will you be taking Tass out?”

JUMP. Haha!

“Actually, I was looking for Link.”

Yeah, even these ones aren’t in the best shape.

“He’s out on Rionee.”

“What?!”

A bunch probably blew right off the tree in that wind yesterday.

“Do you know where he took her?”

Wow. That was only yesterday.

“I’m afraid not, Princess.”

When we found out the Princess has powers after all.

“Forgive me, Brinn. He’s still recovering. I’m concerned.”

I’m not with her today, am I?

“He seemed well enough when he rode out.”

She gave me the day off.

“Oh…. Oh, I’d better-“

Doesn’t really need me now, does she?

“Better what, Highness?”

Not if she can lift 400-pound rocks on her first shot.

“N- never mind. I’d better NOT. Not again. Perhaps… well. I know as long as nothing goes terribly wrong, he’ll return here with Rionee. Perhaps I shall wait here.”

Yeah, Rionee, I’ll give you one. Just a sec.

“Well, Link already gave Tass a quick grooming, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind his rider paying him mind today.”

“Link? Link groomed Tass?”

“Yeah, does it often.”

“Truly?!”

“Yes, Highness.”

“…Why?”

“Well. Well, Highness. It, ah- that is, Link has a great horse sense. He can tell Tass is a might lonely.”

“…Lonely?”

“Apologies, Princess, I mean no offense-“

“No, of course not. I just- ahh.”

Many apples in pouch. Good.

“Well, then. Brinn?”

“Yes, Princess?”

“Would you oblige me for a few minutes? I’ve never groomed a horse.”

“I’d be pleased to, Highness.”

Here you go, silly.

Not bad considering how long they’ve been on the tree.

“It’s simple, really. Let’s stick with the soft brush and mane brush since he’s already had a once-over. It’s not all that different from brushing a person’s hair. Watch me.”

What’s wrong with you, Link? You’re with your horse, eating apples. No one’s eyeing you or judging you or making snide comments or staring you in the eye so hard your soul implodes. There aren’t eighty soldiers who should be your allies bearing down on you.

So why do I still have that weird feeling in my chest?

“May I try?”

“Sure.”

Yesterday. It was so simple. I should have said, “You have your power after all!” Nice. Positive. Not sarcastic. No reason to piss people off. Downright stupid to insult the king in his own castle. Maybe trying to talk more isn’t such a great idea after all. It hasn’t worked out. Neither way has worked out. What did the king say? That I had to be more deliberate in my speech?

“Oh, heh. He likes it.”

Filter yourself, Link.

“That he does.”

We know how much trouble I have with THAT.

It’s basically why father wanted me to keep quiet.

Guess I’d better head back. Rionee seems much happier now. I can brush her down again and eat my other sandwich. Maybe… maybe I should just go in the mess when it’s off-meal time so I can talk to them in the kitchen. No reason to stay and eat there. Yeah. I’ll do that.

Link! You forgot about Mipha! Granted, she has things she can discuss with the Princess, but you shouldn’t just leave her wandering aimlessly around the castle.

Too bad we’re not kids anymore. We could play in the moat. I definitely can’t get away with that anymore, though.

“I- I’ve seen Link scratch him under his chin. Does he like that?”

“Only one way to find out, Highness.”

-----

Read Next: Give people a party and they'll forget.

Read this fanfic from the beginning. (It makes more sense that way).

Follow this link for the post list for this fic.

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Figuring it Out Together - Fred Weasley

Title: Figuring it Out Together Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Warning: NSFW!! Male receiving oral, female receiving oral, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex, some dom/sub elements but nothing too intense, begging, semi-public sex Summary: landing in detention with the person she hates most is the last thing Y/N ever wants to do. But of course, with Fred Weasley around nothing ever seems to work out the way Y/N thinks it will. A/N: this is for the anon who wanted an enemies to lovers smut with Fred! The summary is shit but what else is new lol. Thank you so much to @fandomscombine​ and the two anons who helped me develop this idea!! Requests are open and feedback is always appreciated! I’ve started a tag list, so send me a message or ask if you’d like to be added! Tags: @pandaxnienke​

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

“Oi, Weasley! Get your ass back here!” Y/N shouts, chasing behind Fred as he heads towards the Gryffindor locker room with his brother. Fred and George stop in the tracks and turn around at the same time, the exact same cheeky smile on their mouths.

“Y/N!” George greets as she approaches.

“To what do we owe this pleasure?” Fred asks.

“You!” Y/N growls, pointing at Fred.

As Y/N comes to stand in front of them they both can’t help but notice how angry she is. Her face is flushed red and her eyes are dark and narrowed. Thankful that her anger seems to be directed at Fred, George gives his brother a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before turning around and following the rest of the team into the locker room.

“Me?” Fred teases, pointing to himself. “I’ve done something to rile up Miss prim and proper Y/N? Give me a moment, I need to bask in the glory.” Fred closes his eyes, tilts his head back and opens his arms as if the heavens have opened up and sunlight is gleaming down on him.

All this does is infuriate Y/N further, and when she finally gets close enough she shoves Fred as hard as she can. He doesn’t really move much, but it shocks him, and that’s enough for her. “What’s your problem you fucking prick? Why did you do that?”

“You’re going to have to elaborate, darling,” Fred responds casually, crossing his arms over his chest. “There’s a lot of things I’ve done in my life to classify me as a prick, so I’m going to need more details.”

“You broke his arm,” Y/N clarifies, gesturing towards the Quidditch pitch.

Fred rolls his eyes. “Your brother has suffered far worse injuries during a game, Y/N. Madam Pomfrey will have him fixed up in no time. No need for all the dramatics.”

Fred’s casual attitude does nothing but make Y/N angrier, and she shoves him again. “Most of them due to you no doubt! You knew how important this game was and yet you still had to go out of your way to be a complete asshat!”

Ravenclaw and Gryffindor have just finished a grueling match, and Fred spent most of it hitting bludgers at Y/N’s older brother Matthew like they were the only two people on the pitch. While Y/N normally would be loving the opportunity to rub in her house’s win, Y/N had been praying for Ravenclaw to win this particular match. It’s been Matthew’s dream to be a professional Quidditch player since he was a little kid, and this match was his opportunity to make that a reality. Scouts from a few different professional teams were in attendance, and the Ravenclaw team has spent weeks fitting in extra practices to give them the upper advantage on Gryffindor.

Even Y/N was positive that they would take the win, until Fred made it his personal agenda to ensure Matthew never scored a goal. Y/N’s brother had spent most of the game whizzing around the field avoiding Fred, and he failed to score a single goal. And the icing on the cake was that 20 minutes before Harry caught the snitch Fred hit a bludger so hard that Matthew couldn’t avoid it, and it came into direct contact with his arm – shattering quite a few of the bones in it.

Fred huffs. “What did you want me to do? Throw the game so your stupid brother could show off to all of those recruiters? Me hitting bludgers at him so he doesn’t score is kinda the whole point of the game, Y/N.”

“Don’t try and act like I’m the one in the wrong here, Fred!” Y/N shouts, gathering the attention of some of the students heading back towards the castle. “You were focusing a bit too hard on Matthew and you know it! There was six other Ravenclaw players on the pitch, did you think about trying to hit some bludgers towards them?”

“Oh fuck off, Y/N,” Fred spits, returning her anger. “It’s a fucking game, get over it. Why do you always have to be such a bitch? You suck the fun out of everything.”

Y/N is seething with anger, and just as she starts to pull her hand back to slap Fred across the face, Professor McGonagall is stepping in between them.

“What on God’s green earth do you two think you’re doing?” McGonagall asks, looking between the two of them. “Mr. Weasley, Ms. Y/L/N. Detention, all next week and I’ll have 50 points from each of you. Now I suggest you two go find something else to do before I make it a month.”

Y/N flips Fred off as McGonagall walks away before she’s turning on her heel and stomping back up to the castle.

-

“Will you sit down, your pacing is making me dizzy,” Matthew groans, putting his head in his hand.

“Sorry,” Y/N apologizes, giving her brother a sheepish smile. She takes a seat on the edge of his bed, trying not to jostle Matthew too much. Madam Pomfrey had been able to heal his arm quickly, but some of the potions she’d given him left him quite dizzy, so he’s still resting in the Hospital Wing.

“Fred is a prick, Y/N. You didn’t have to confront him,” Matthew says, looking up at Y/N. “Although I really wish you would have slapped him.”

“If McGonagall had only showed up a few seconds later,” Y/N laughs. “I’ve never had the urge to hit someone before but there’s just something about his stupid face that makes me so mad. You’ve been working so hard for this match and then he called me a bitch,” Y/N sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Don’t feel bad, and besides, this is a moment we should be celebrating.” When Y/N gives Matthew a confused look he laughs. “Your first detention! I’m so proud of you,” he says wistfully, pretending to wipe away a tear.

“Oh shove it,” Y/N says with a giggle. “I’m going to be stuck in a room every night for the next week with Fred doing whatever McGonagall wants, sounds lovely,” she adds sarcastically with an eyeroll.

“To be fair most girls would kill to be in your position,” Matthew points out with a laugh. “Locked in a room for hours on end with Fred Weasley. That’s like a girl’s wet dream come to life.” When Y/N grimaces at the thought Matthew gives her a look. “Every girl except for you apparently. Why do you even hate Fred so much?”

Y/N gives Matthew a look of surprise. “You can’t be serious?” When Matthew continues to look at her dumbfounded she scoffs. “You were at this school for two years before I was and all I heard when you were home on break was how much of an annoying prat Fred is. I mean I tried not to hate Fred just because you did when I got sorted into Gryffindor and he was pretty okay at first. But one day he just started being a dick to me and I realized you were right.”

“Probably because you’re my sister. I’m always on his case about pulling pranks or messing around in class, he probably figured you’d be the same way,” Matthew reasons.

Y/N shrugs. “Well he’s a bag of dicks anyway, so I’m not too bothered by it.”

-

Monday evening comes far too quickly for Y/N’s liking, and after dinner she trots off to the trophy room, Fred begrudgingly following behind. McGonagall is already waiting for them, and she directs them to sit on the couch in front of her. Y/N takes a seat and practically hugs the arm rest so she’s sitting as far away from Fred as possible.

“The behavior you two exhibited on Saturday was unacceptable and downright barbaric,” McGonagall scolds, her tone sharp. “You’ll be spending the week making sure every one of the trophies in this room shines like it’s brand new.” Y/N looks around at the vast amount of trophies in the room as McGonagall hands them each a rag. “This should give you plenty of time to not only think about your actions, but to resolve whatever animosity exists between the two of you.” She gives them each a stern look before heading towards the door. “I’ll be back to check on you both.”

Y/N groans as McGonagall shuts the door behind her and she hoists herself off of the couch towards the mantle, needing to put some space between her and Fred. McGonagall may want them to sort out their issues, but Y/N wants nothing to do with Fred, and she still has some lingering anger from their fight on Saturday so she’s sure all it would do is end in another detention. Y/N grabs a random trophy and starts scrubbing at it, keeping her back towards Fred.

“This is such bullshit,” Fred mutters to himself after a few minutes of working in silence. Y/N can feel his glare and her shoulders tense up, but she doesn’t say anything or turn around. “This is all your fault you know,” Fred continues a few moments later when Y/N continues to ignore him.

Y/N places the trophy she’d been working on back and picks up another one, determined not to give Fred a reaction. Clearly he’s trying to instigate her into getting into more trouble and while Fred may be used to serving detention Y/N plans on making this week her one and only stint. Y/N finally relaxes after a few minutes of silence, when Fred starts to hum some random song rather loudly and out of tune.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Y/N mutters to herself as she starts to work on another trophy. “Shut up!” Y/N demands, slamming the trophy she’d been working on down. As much as she wants to just ignore Fred, she also wants to keep her sanity.

“No,” Fred responds dully before he continues humming.

Y/N turns around to glare at Fred, and the sweet smile on his face only annoys her further. “Can you not be an asshole? For like, once in your life. Let’s just get through this week and then we can continue to hate each other from afar.”

Fred places the plaque he’d been working on down and leans back on the sofa, crossing his arms. “Why should I make this easy on you? You’re the one that got me into this mess.”

“Oh yeah, you’re right. You totally didn’t shout back at me or call me any names. You just stood there and let me yell at you,” Y/N responds with an eyeroll.

Fred narrows his eyes. “You started it,” he fires back. “I was on my way back to the locker room when you ran up to me and started shouting. And don’t forget you shoved me a few times. I only shouted back because I was tired of listening to your stupid voice.”

“Oh please, you barely moved when I shoved you. You’re acting like I broke your arm or something. Oh wait, that was you,” Y/N reminds him harshly. “You broke my brother’s arm during the most important Quidditch game of his life!”

Fred stands up and takes a step towards Y/N, his fists clenched. “You’re still on that? It’s a game Y/N! I wasn’t trying to break his arm, it just happened! You’re being such a fucking cry baby over nothing!”

“I’m not being a cry baby!” Y/N insist, taking a step towards Fred.

“Oh you’re right my mistake,” Fred spits. “You’re being a fucking bitch!”

Y/N brings her hand out to slap Fred, but his hand wraps around her wrist tightly. Before she has a chance to try and struggle against his grip Fred is pulling Y/N into his chest and kissing her hard. Y/N kisses him back with enthusiasm and moans into Fred’s mouth as his hands land on her bum and give it a tight squeeze.

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad,” Fred growls as he starts to bite and suck at Y/N’s neck. “You’re annoying as hell too,” he reminds as his hands shove up her shirt. “But so fucking hot.”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Y/N demands, bringing their lips together again. Fred may be an annoying git, but even Y/N has to admit that he’s attractive and being with Fred will definitely make detention more interesting. “You have too many clothes on,” Y/N pants as they break apart, her hands starting to loosen Fred’s tie.

“I could say the same to you, princess,” Fred says, smirking when a shiver runs down Y/N’s spine. Normally the nickname would make her blood boil, but in this context it makes her pussy throb.

Y/N tosses Fred’s tie away as his fingers start to make quick work of her button down. “Why are these uniforms so fucking hard to take off,” Y/N groans as she starts to work at Fred’s shirt as well.

“That desperate for me already, Y/N?” Fred teases as he pushes her shirt off of her shoulders. He leans down to suck a mark onto the top of her breast as his hands move around her back to unhook her bra.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Weasley,” Y/N chides as she takes Fred’s shirt off. Her bra finally hits the ground, and Y/N lets out a whine as Fred’s mouth starts licking and sucking at her nipples. “You kissed me first, remember.”

“Only because I wanted you to shut the fuck up.” Fred steps back and sits on the couch, pulling Y/N down onto his lap. She straddles his waist and they both moan as she grinds down against him. Fred’s hands start to massage Y/N’s breasts and his thumbs start to roughly rub her nipples, causing her to let out a breathy moan. “That’s right, princess. Keep making those noises for me.”

Y/N bites her lip and rocks down against Fred again, determined to keep every noise that bubbles up her throat down. This seems to only spur Fred on, and his head dips down to take one of her nipples in his mouth, his tongue flicking the sensitive bud as his other hand continues rubbing the other. “Fuck, Fred,” Y/N moans, unable to keep it in any longer.

“Love the way you moan my name,” Fred praises, rocking his hips up into Y/N. He’s painfully hard in his trousers and he’s desperate for some friction. “Although I think there’s something even better for your mouth to do, princess.”

Y/N is dripping wet in her panties, and she hates to admit that the thought of sucking Fred’s cock sends a tingle right through her core. “Gonna have to ask me for it, Fred,” she teases, sinking to her knees in front of him.

Fred kicks his shoes off as Y/N undoes his belt and starts to work at the button of his trousers. “Look at you, you’re practically drooling,” Fred taunts playfully. “Give it another few seconds and you’ll be begging me to put my cock in your mouth.”

“You sure about that?” Y/N asks, looking up at Fred. She pulls his trousers and boxers down to his thighs in one go, and Y/N has to bite her tongue to keep from moaning as his cock springs out and slaps against his stomach. Fred exudes big dick energy, and Y/N’s pussy throbs as her hand wraps around him, pleasantly surprised that his size matches his personality.

Fred throws his head back and groans as Y/N starts to slowly stroke him. “Just fucking suck it already,” Fred demands. “You know you want it, slut.”  

“Thought I was your princess?” Y/N teases  as she leans forward, her tongue coming out to kitten lick at his sensitive head.

“Only good girls get to be called princess,” Fred moans, his hand fisting in her hair. “Bad girls who don’t do what I tell them get called slut.” Fred tugs on Y/N’s hair, and he smirks at the moan she lets out. “So you better get sucking if you wanna be my princess.”

Y/N presses her thighs together to try and get some relief on her clit as she decides what to do next. She desperately wants to suck Fred off, but a part of her wants to hold off for a bit and push him to beg her instead. But as Y/N strokes Fred, a bead of precum bubbles up on the tip of his cock, and it makes her mouth water.

“That’s it, princess,” Fred moans as Y/N finally takes him into her mouth and swallows him down. He watches as his length disappears into Y/N’s mouth, his hips twitching as he hits the back of her throat. “Fuck your mouth feels amazing. Gonna have to shove my cock into it every time you get mouthy with me.”

Y/N hums around Fred, her hand starting to work at the part of his cock she can’t fit in her mouth. She pulls her head back so her tongue can twist around the tip, Fred’s moans and pants only encouraging her further. Y/N bobs her head down, gagging as Fred hits the back of her throat. She starts to pull back, but Fred’s hips surge forward, fucking his cock back into her throat and making her gag again.

“Did I say you could fuck my throat?” Y/N scolds as she pulls off. Fred’s hips lift up again to chase her mouth, and she wraps her hand around his cock.

“Sorry princess,” Fred apologizes smugly. “You sound so good gagging around my cock I couldn’t help it.” Fred uses the grip he has on Y/N’s hair to bring her mouth back towards his crotch. “Just keep sucking, I won’t do it again.”

“I don’t really want to anymore,” Y/N teases. Her thumb swipes over the tip of Fred’s cock with every upstroke, causing his hips to jerk. “Gonna have to beg me for it, Fred.”

Fred groans. “Such a fucking tease, Y/N. Fine don’t suck my cock,” Fred says flatly, trying to bait her into taking him back down her throat. “Your hand feels just as good,” he groans.

Y/N narrows her eyes at Fred and pulls her hand away. “You wanna come from a hand? Then you can get yourself off.” She stands up then and kicks off her shoes before slowly shimmying out of her school skirt and panties. Y/N then lays back on the floor with her feet flat, knees bent and open so Fred can see her dripping core. She props herself up on one elbow and looks Fred dead in the eyes as her other hand starts to wander down to her pussy. “You can use your hand, and I’ll use mine.”

Fred watches in rapt awe as Y/N starts to slowly rub her clit, small moans falling from her lips. His cock twitches and he resists the urge to wrap his hand around himself. “Look how fucking wet you are, princess. All of that, just for me?” Fred bites his lip as Y/N starts to tease her entrance with her finger. “How about you come on my cock instead?”

Y/N whines as she sinks a finger into her heat, her attention completely focused on Fred. She watches as he stands up and gets rid of the rest of his clothes, her pussy throbbing at how wet his cock is still from her saliva. When Fred settles on his knees between her legs, Y/N reluctantly stops her movements on her core and places one hand on Fred’s chest while the other wraps around his cock.

“You wanna fuck me, Fred?” When Fred nods and goes to move forward, Y/N shoves him back. “Gonna have to beg me for it.”

“Stop fucking around, Y/N,” Fred complains. “You’re desperate for my cock and you know it.”

Y/N’s walls clench around nothing and her hips buck as if they’re searching for something to fill her. “Beg me for my pussy, Fred,” Y/N demands. “Beg me, and I’ll let you fuck me.”

“Let me fuck you, princess, please,” he begs. “Wanna ruin you with my cock, stretch that pretty little pussy out.”

Y/N is desperate for release at this point, and Fred begging for her only makes it worse. She immediately lets go of him and grabs his face, pulling him down for a messy kiss. As soon as he’s free to move Fred inches forward and slams into Y/N, both of them moaning as he buries himself in her completely.

“Fucking hell, Fred,” Y/N moans. Fred starts to fuck into her quickly, hitching one of her legs over his shoulder so he can move deeper inside of her. “Oh my fucking god right there,” Y/N pants as his cock starts to drag against her g-spot on each thrust. “You fill me up so good, Fred, fuck. Such a big cock, fucking me so well.” Fred starts to rub her clit, and her walls clench around him.

“You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” Fred compliments. “Can feel your walls stretching for me, like they were made to take my cock.” Fred lands a particularly hard thrust and he’s rewarded with the hottest moan he’s ever heard. “Bet I’m the biggest you’ve ever taken. Aren’t I, princess?”

“Oh fuck, Fred,” Y/N gasps, her orgasm suddenly hitting her. She can feel her walls tightening and spasming around Fred, and her legs start to shake as pleasure washes over her. “Come inside me Fred please,” Y/N begs as she pulls their mouths together.

Fred’s hips still as he releases inside Y/N, his hips just slowly rolling to help him through his orgasm. He kisses Y/N slow as they both come down and once his cock stops twitching Fred slowly pulls out of Y/N and sits back on his shins. They both just sit their basking in the pleasure that’s still coursing through their veins, when footsteps start to approach the door.

“Shit, shit, fucking shit, that must be McGonagall,” Y/N panics, scrambling to find her clothes.

Fred grabs his wand and casts a spell at the door to keep it from opening. “Quick, get dressed. That’ll only stop her for a few minutes.”

They both get dressed hurriedly, and Y/N has just barely grabbed her rag and started to scrub at a random trophy when the door bursts open.

“Bloody old doors,” McGonagall mutters as she steps inside. She eyes both Fred and Y/N quizzically and Y/N holds her breath, waiting to be told off. “And how are things?” she asks.

Y/N breathes a sigh of relief. “Going well, professor.”

Fred nods in agreement. “We’ve been hard at work. Merlin’s honor,” Fred adds.

“Very well then. I shall see you both tomorrow after dinner.” McGonagall steps out of the way, and both Y/N and Fred practically throw down the things in their hands as they rush to leave the room.

They walk back to the common room side by side, neither of them really sure what to say. Fred says the password as they reach the Fat Lady, and he lets Y/N go in first. Before Y/N has a chance to say anything to Fred he’s heading to join George on one of the couches, and Hermione is calling Y/N over.

“How was detention?” Hermione asks as Y/N reaches the table she’s sat at.

Y/N shrugs, trying to keep from blushing. “It was fine. Pretty boring actually.”

“Only four more days,” Hermione says with a laugh. “I’m working on that Charms essay if you wanna join me.”

“Yeah, totally. I’m just gonna go upstairs and grab a quick shower first and then grab my stuff.” Y/N can feel Fred’s release dripping out of her and into her panties, and she’ll never be able to focus on her homework if she doesn’t get cleaned up first.

“See you in a bit then.”

Y/N gives Hermione a smile before she turns on her heel and starts to head towards the staircase. Her legs are still a little shaky, and as she takes the first few steps up she stumbles a bit. Y/N looks back to see if anyone noticed, only to be met with Fred’s eyes. He gives her a sly wink, and she flips him off before disappearing up the stairs.

-

“So detention with Weasley was okay?” Matthew asks Y/N the next morning at breakfast.

They’re sitting together at the Ravenclaw table as always, and Y/N is thankful for the space it gives her from Fred. Last night was the best sex Y/N has ever had, and the fact that it was with someone she has hated for years has done nothing but confuse her further. She still hates Fred without a shadow of a doubt, but Y/N would be lying if she said she didn’t want it to happen again.

“Yeah, it was pretty chill. McGonagall had us scrubbing trophies and stuff in the trophy room for hours which was mind numbing but, other than that it was uneventful,” Y/N lies. Telling her brother about her sex life is low on the list of things Y/N wants to do under normal circumstances, and it’s even lower when her partner is someone her brother considers an enemy.

“A bit of hard labor never hurt,” Matthew jokes, causing Y/N to choke on her orange juice.

“Yeah right. Hard labor,” Y/N tries to joke back once her coughs have died down. If only he knew the kind of hard labor we got up to Y/N thinks to herself as her eyes wander over towards the Gryffindor table. Her eyes meet Fred’s and she has to look away to avoid blushing.

“Hello, earth to Fred,” George calls, waving his hand in front of Fred’s face.

Fred drags his gaze away from Y/N so he can look at his brother. “Sorry, what did you say?”

George chuckles and looks over his shoulder to see what had Fred so occupied. “Ah, Y/N,” he drawls, looking back at Fred. “You were pretty quiet after you got back from detention. Did something happen?”

“No, not at all,” Fred lies, hoping his cheeks don’t start to heat up. Much like Y/N, Fred is completely confused about their encounter. He’s loathed both Y/N and her brother for as long as he can remember, but less than 12 hours ago they were having some of the best sex Fred has ever had and he’s already thinking about what they might get up to when they’re alone tonight.

“I was kinda surprised you came back in one piece,” Ron adds with a laugh. Fred throws his spoon at Ron, and the younger boy dodges it. “No need to be so rude. You two have hated each other for years and she looked ready to beat your ass on Saturday. I figured she’d take the opportunity to do it when you were alone.”

“Why do you two hate each other so much?” Hermione asks from Ron’s side. “It seems like you’ve been at each other’s throats since our first year.”

“I hate her because Y/N is an uppity asshole like her brother. Matthew is always getting me and George in trouble and Y/N does the same,” Fred explains. “Your first year, George was serving a detention with Snape and I set up what was going to be our best revenge prank yet. I went all out, it took weeks of planning.  Except it never went off. Someone ratted on me and McGonagall intervened. I got in probably the worst trouble I’ve ever been in, Mum sent Howlers for days afterwards. I was in detention for months.”

“I remember that! Mum was still pissed at Christmas,” Ron says.

Hermione knits her eyebrows together. “I remember that too. But what does that have to do with Y/N?”

Fred sighs. “When I was leaving the prank to wait for George so we could set it off, Y/N passed me in the hallway. It had to be her who ratted me out just like her brown-nosing brother.”

“But it couldn’t have been Y/N. I spent most of the afternoon with her in the library working on a Herbology assignment. Ron and Harry were there too,” Hermione explains, and both Ron and Harry nod in agreement. “She must have passed you on the way into the library. By the time we left the library you were already in trouble, there’s no way she could have gone to see McGonagall between the time she passed you and when she got to the library.”

“Bet you it was Malfoy,” Harry adds. “He was leaving the library as Y/N entered, remember? He shoved her into the door jamb as they passed by each other.”

“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” Fred interrupts, his tone dripping with confusion. “You mean to tell me that I’ve spent the past 5 years hating Y/N for something she didn’t even do?”

Hermione nods. “Seems that way.”

Fred groans and stands up. “I’ll see you guys later.���

Fred heads out of the Great Hall and towards class, feeling even more confused than he had before.

-

“You plan on ignoring me all night, princess?” Fred says quietly, coming up behind Y/N. McGonagall has just barely shut the door behind her to leave them be and Fred doesn’t want to waste any time. He’s decided in the time it’s been since breakfast that he really isn’t sure how he truly feels about Y/N and having sex with her seems to be the best way for him to figure it out. He’d been trying to catch her attention all day, but Y/N barely even glanced at him.

“How the hell do you move so quietly?” Y/N asks, toying with the rag in her hands. Truthfully Y/N had planned on ignoring Fred. She spent most of the day trying to decide what to do about this murky new relationship they’ve gotten themselves in, and finally settled on letting Fred take the next step. Y/N is prideful above anything else, and she’d rather streak through the hallways naked than come on to Fred when he only saw their sex as a one-time thing.

Fred presses a kiss to the side of Y/N’s neck, smiling into the skin when she shivers. “You didn’t answer my question, princess.”

“You that desperate for me already, Fred?” Y/N teases, turning around to look at him.

“No,” Fred responds slowly, his gaze flicking to Y/N’s lips for a moment. “But I know you enjoyed last night, as did I. So I don’t see why we can’t do it again.”

“Maybe because we’re supposed to be shining these stupid trophies, not having sex. We barely did any work last night and I have a feeling McGonagall will notice when everything looks the same again,” Y/N responds in lieu of actually responding to Fred’s preposition.

“I can take care of that,” Fred insists. He takes his wand out of his back pocket and casts a spell which makes several of the trophies around them shine like diamonds. “There. Now McGonagall will have no idea what we were really getting up to in here.”

Y/N drops her rag and turns around, her arms winding around Fred’s neck as his wrap around her waist. She bites her lip, unable to stop her eyes from traveling down to Fred’s mouth. “This doesn’t change anything between us,” Y/N says softly, looking into Fred’s eyes. “Outside of this room I still hate you and you still hate me. Got it?”

“Of course, princess,” Fred confirms. Once Y/N relaxes in his embrace Fred wastes no time and presses their lips together, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth.

Y/N moans into the kiss, one of her hands trailing down Fred’s torso to his hardening erection. She palms him lightly, smirking when his knees quiver. “So hard for me already, Freddie? You miss being buried in my pussy that much?”

Fred starts to trail kisses down Y/N’s neck, one of his hands inching up her skirt. He pushes the fabric aside as he sucks a mark into her skin, and let’s two of his fingers rub through her wet folds. “You’re one to talk,” Fred teases as Y/N gasps. “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re dripping wet. Been thinking about my cock, princess?”

“Fred,” Y/N whines as he sinks a finger into her heat. She clenches around him, her hand starting to palm him harder.

Fred pulls his hand out of her panties and kisses away Y/N’s pout. “Your mouth felt so good on me yesterday, princess,” Fred starts, leading them over to the couch. “And tonight, I’m gonna use my mouth on you to say thank you.”

Y/N shivers as Fred pushes her back onto the couch, her arousal growing even more. His voice is deep and slow, the complete opposite to how it was last night. Yesterday they had both teased each other, but it’s clear by Fred’s actions so far that he’s in no mood to play the same games again.

“How generous,” Y/N teases, watching as Fred starts to unbutton his shirt.

“If you want me to tease I can tease,” Fred muses, dropping his shirt on the ground next to his tie. “Or you can get naked and I’ll eat that pretty pussy of yours until you’re begging me to let you cum.”

Y/N immediately kicks off her shoes and wiggles out of her skirt and panties, letting them drop to the floor. “Please eat me out, Fred,” she pleads as her hands start to work at the buttons of her shirt.

Fred kicks Y/N’s discarded clothes out of the way and drops to his knees, grabbing a thigh in each hand. He pulls her legs apart and settles in between them before pressing kisses up her thigh and towards her heat. “How can I say no when you ask so nicely, princess?” Fred stops to suck a mark on the inside of her thigh, only an inch or two away from where Y/N needs him most. “Bet you taste so good, princess.”

“Put your mouth on me and you’ll find out,” Y/N pants, fisting a hand in Fred’s hair.

Fred looks up at Y/N, his mouth running dry and how beautiful she looks. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and her school shirt lays open, the tops of her breasts spilling out over the cups of her bra. Fred can still make out some of the marks he left on them yesterday as her chest heaves with deep breaths. Y/N’s stomach is quivering and Fred dips down and licks a long strip from the bottom of her pussy to the top to keep himself from blurting out just how beautiful he finds her.

Y/N moans as Fred’s tongue starts to flick at her clit, tugging his hair slightly. Fred’s fingers are digging into her thighs and it only turns her on more. “More, Fred, please.”

Fred’s tongue travels down from Y/N’s clit to her dripping entrance, slowly sliding into her as he collects her juices. He moans at her taste, letting his tongue fuck in and out of Y/N’s pussy. “Knew you’d taste good,” Fred praises. He sucks Y/N’s clit into his mouth and takes one of his hands off her thigh so he can sink his index finger into her.

“Freddie,” Y/N whines, bearing her hips down onto his finger. He curls it inside of her, and Y/N clenches around it. “Wanna come, please,” Y/N begs.

Fred nibbles lightly on her clit, teasing a second finger around her entrance. “Gonna have to come from just one finger, princess. Want my cock to stretch you out.” Y/N lets out a loud moan at that, and Fred smiles as he presses a wet kiss to her clit. “You like that idea, princess? My cock splitting you open?”

“Fuck me now, Fred,” Y/N demands, tugging on his hair again. “Wanna come around your cock.”

Fred licks up Y/N’s core one last time before he pulls away and starts to work on taking the rest of his clothes off. “Fuck, Y/N. You can’t say shit like that to me and not expect me to bury my cock in you every chance I get.” Fred stands up to get rid of his bottoms, watching as Y/N tosses her shirt aside and takes off her bra. “Don’t think I told you how incredible your tits are yesterday, Y/N. They’re so soft and round and perfect,” he groans.

Y/N flushes under Fred’s praise and climbs onto his lap when he sits down next to her. She presses their lips together and kisses him messily, one of her hands gripping his shoulder while the other reaches around to grip the base of his cock. “Gonna make me do all the work, Weasley? Typical man,” she teases, letting the tip of his cock tease her entrance.

Fred’s hands land on Y/N’s hips and he smirks as their lips connect once again. When Y/N teases her entrance again, Fred jerks his hips up and slams her down at the same time, shoving his cock all the way into Y/N. “What was that, princess? About me doing all the work?”

Y/N gasps as Fred enters her, her walls twitching around him. “So fucking big, Fred, holy hell. Feels like it’s splitting me in two. Feels so good.”

Fred hums and kisses Y/N again as she starts to bounce on him, his hips meeting her thrusts. “Riding me so good, princess,” he groans. “You feel amazing around me. Always so tight for me.” One of Fred’s hands travels to Y/N’s core and starts to lightly rub her clit while the other starts to pinch and toy with her nipple. He leans forward and presses his lips to her neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin.

“Not where people can see,” Y/N warns, tipping her head back to give Fred more room to kiss. She leans back to brace a hand on Fred’s thigh, whining at the new angle. The tip of Fred’s cock rubs her g-spot with each movement, and Y/N can feel her orgasm building.

“But that’s half the fun,” Fred pouts, examining the few bruises he’s left on her neck. “Want everyone to know who this pussy belongs too.”

Y/N moans as Fred’s head dips down and takes one of her nipples into his mouth. “So this pussy belongs to you?” Y/N stutters, her eyes fluttering closed as Fred nibbles on her nipple and starts to rub her clit faster.

“Does it not?” Fred asks, fucking his hips up into Y/N harder. “Or is there someone else that makes you feel this good?”

“Fred,” Y/N moans as he pinches her clit and nipple at the same time, her orgasm taking over her suddenly.

“Fucking hell,” Fred moans as Y/N tightens around him and collapses into his chest. He grips her hips and moves her on his cock as he chases his own release. “How the fuck are you even tighter?” He groans as Y/N clenches around him again, and he brings her down on him one last time before his cock starts to twitch and he releases inside of her.

Fred starts to rub Y/N’s back as they both come down, whining as she shifts on his softening cock. “So good for me, princess,” he praises, pressing a few kisses to the side of Y/N’s face.

Y/N pulls away from Fred slightly so she can kiss him. Their lips move together softly and Y/N whines into it when Fred lifts her off of his cock. “Feel so empty without you,” she admits sheepishly, her cheeks heating up.

Fred chuckles and starts to trace shapes into her sweaty skin. “Trust me, love. If McGonagall wasn’t due to barge through that door any minute now we’d be getting ready for round 2.”

-

By the time Friday rolls around Y/N is more confused than ever. Every time her and Fred go their separate ways after detention leaves her with an empty feeling in her chest and she’s not quite sure what to make of it. It doesn’t help that Fred has started being nice to her outside of their detentions too.

Instead of his usual hard glares she finds him looking at her softly during meals and he greets her every time their paths cross instead of ignoring her as per usual. Their housemates are starting to notice Fred’s change in behavior as well. One morning he lets her have the last piece of bacon on the platter, and Hermione gives her a questioning look. When she’s doing homework in the common room with Harry and her ink runs out, Fred pulls a new bottle out of his bag and immediately hands it over to her, causing Harry’s jaw to practically drop. It’s almost as if they’re friends now, and it only complicates things in Y/N’s head further.

Y/N has found herself actually enjoying Fred’s tenderness, and she doesn’t quite know what that means. Tonight is the last night they’ll have to spend together, and Y/N is both scared and curious about what that means for their relationship. She spares a glance at Fred from down the table as Hermione chatters on about something, and she looks away quickly when his eyes meet hers.

“Last detention, what are you gonna do once you’re a free man?” George asks, pulling Fred’s attention back to him. When all his brother does is shrug, George frowns. “What the hell has gotten into you? You’ve been acting weird all week and now you almost seem, sad that your detention is over with.”

Fred bites his lip, pushing his food around on his plate with his fork. “Just been thinking about stuff.” Fred has gotten himself in a major problem, and he’s been trying to figure out how to get himself out of it all week. After his second time with Y/N things became clearer to Fred, he certainly doesn’t hate Y/N anymore, and he’s found himself developing feelings for her. He wouldn’t say he’s in love, but he’d be lying if he said he can’t see himself falling in love with Y/N.

He’s been paying more attention to her since his revelation that his deep-rooted hate was based in a misunderstanding, and he’s noticed so many things about her that he finds so endearing. It certainly doesn’t help that he’s had her moaning and writhing underneath him every day this week and every time she moans his name his heart swells.

“This about Y/N?” George asks carefully, not wanting to push Fred too much. Being a twin has its advantages, and while he can’t say he knows what’s going on in Fred’s head he can tell something is off with him and it’s not too hard to guess why.

“I don’t hate her anymore,” Fred admits quietly. “And it’s not like I’m in love with her or anything, but I think I could be. Someday. If she would let me.” Fred sighs and looks at George. “But I’m pretty sure she still hates my guts, I mean how could she not? I’ve been a dick to her for years and it’s stupid of me to think that a few nights of sex can change that.”

George chokes on his pumpkin juice. “You two have been screwing?”

“Shh, shh,” Fred says quickly, looking around to make sure no one overheard. “Keep your voice down, I don’t need the whole school knowing. Especially Y/N’s brother.”

“I thought you two were just making out or something,” George continues quietly. “Now I know why you’re so happy when you get back from detention every night.” George wiggles his eyebrows at Fred, and Fred rolls his eyes in response.

“We agreed that we wouldn’t continue hooking up after our detention was up and things are going to go right back to how they were before it started,” Fred pauses to swallow the lump in his throat. “But I don’t feel the same way about her as I did before and I don’t know if I can start pretending to hate her.”

George gives Fred a sad smile and ruffles his hair. “I wish I could help you, Freddie.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Fred watches as Y/N stands up to head to detention, and he slowly follows her lead trying not to pay too much attention to how her hips sway.

-

“I guess this is it,” Y/N says quietly, trying to not let the sadness she feels creep into her chest. Fred has just finished fucking her into the carpet and she’s cuddled into his side as they catch their breath. In a few minutes McGonagall will be back, and whatever this is between her and Fred will be over.

“Guess so,” Fred responds, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. His chest is already aching, and they haven’t even parted ways yet.

Y/N tilts her head up and catches Fred’s mouth in one final kiss. “It was nice, to not be your enemy for a bit.”

“Let’s not go back to being enemies then,” Fred says carefully. When Y/N looks up at him worriedly Fred musters up what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “Friends?”

Y/N nods, trying to figure out why Fred’s offer of friendship simultaneously makes her happy and sad. “Sure, friends.”

They part and get dresses quietly, barely even able to look at each other. When McGonagall finally pushes through the door their standing at opposite ends of the room, and the awkwardness in the air is evident.

“I hope you two learned your lesson,” McGonagall says quietly before watching the two of them scurry away, their heads hanging low.

-

Despite the fact that she and Fred had agreed to be friends, Y/N can’t help but notice that he’s ignoring her. It’s been a little over a week since their last detention, and Fred hasn’t even said two words to Y/N. He’s barely even looked at her. His sudden disappearance from her life has left her both sad and angry, and she’s started to realize that maybe it’s because she really wanted to be more than friends with Fred. She thought maybe he had wanted that too, but with his sudden cool attitude, Y/N isn’t going to be the one searching him out to get to the bottom of it.

“Okay, you’re like, the best sister ever,” Matthew greets as she comes to sit next to him at the Ravenclaw table. It’s fairly early on a Saturday morning, so the Great Hall is still pretty empty.

“I mean I know that,” Y/N says with a laugh as she sits down next to him. “But do you wanna explain why you’re suddenly realizing it too?”

Matthew rolls his eyes and waves around the letter in his hand. “I got this in the mail today, no need to be so coy.”

“What is it?” Y/N grabs the letter from him and scans over it briefly. “One of the teams is going to send another scout to your next game. That’s amazing!”

Matthew frowns at her. “You mean you didn’t write to them?” When Y/N shakes her head, his frown turns into a look of confusion. “The letter says someone at school wrote to them and asked them to reconsider drafting me and that I’m a better player than I demonstrated.”

“Must have been someone on the team,” Y/N muses, taking a sip of orange juice.

“That’s what I thought, but look at the team they sent the letter to,” Matthew insists, tossing the envelope to Y/N.

She looks at it closely, noticing the team emblem embossed into the parchment. “That’s your favorite team,” Y/N points out.

“That’s why I figured it was you. You’re the only one that knows they’re my favorite, and it’s kinda weird that out of the six or seven teams that sent scouts this person would send a letter to the one team I’ve always wanted to play for.”

Y/N’s jaw drop as a conversation she’d had with Fred one night as they laid next to each other to recover. She offhandedly mentioned how sad Matthew had been after receiving a rejection letter from his favorite team. She thought nothing of it at the time when Fred asked her which team it was, but it all makes sense now.

“I think I know who sent that letter. I’ll be back.”

Y/N heads out of the Great Hall and back towards the Gryffindor Common Room, all kinds of emotions flowing through her body.

“Fred!” Y/N shouts as she throws the door to his dorm open. All three of the boys in there jump, frightened by her sudden appearance. She starts to storm towards Fred, and George and Lee take the opportunity to sneak out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

“Do you mind?” Fred says dully. His back is to Y/N and he takes a deep breath to calm himself down. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

As Y/N comes to stand behind Fred she can’t help but notice that he’s standing next to his bed in nothing but his boxers. His hair is messy, and she figures he’s only been awake a few minutes. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Y/N reminds him. “I need to talk to you.”

Fred sighs and turns around to look at her, sitting on his bed. “What?” His voice shakes, and he prays Y/N doesn’t notice.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/N asks, trying not to lose her nerve. Fred looks beautiful sitting there, and it’s taking everything in her not to crawl into his lap and kiss him.

Fred rolls his eyes. “Lots of things are wrong with me, Y/N. You’re going to have to elaborate.”

“Why did you send that letter? To the quidditch team?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

Fred smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his head. “They weren’t supposed to say you sent the letter,” he mumbles.

“They didn’t. But the only person who knows about Matthew’s dream to play for that team besides he and I is you. And since he didn’t send the letter and neither did I it had to have been you,” Y/N pauses, looking at Fred. “Why did you do it?” she asks again, softer.

“I dunno,” Fred responds with a shrug. “I could tell you were upset about the whole thing, so I figured I’d reach out. The worst they could do is send a letter back to me saying no. And then you’d never have to know about it. And if they said yes Matthew would never know it was me who sent the original letter in.” Fred bites his lips. “I just wanted to do something to make you feel better.”

Y/N’s heart melts. “You did it for me?”

“Why are you surprised? I figured it was obvious there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for you. Or have you forgotten about the seven orgasms I gave you last Thursday?” Fred teases.

Y/N can feel her cheeks flush and a shiver runs down her spine at the memory. “Why go through all that and not even take the credit for it?”

“Because of what you said, the second night of our detention,” Fred starts. “You made me promise that us hooking up wouldn’t change our relationship outside of detention and I very clearly broke that promise.”

“But I thought we agreed to be friends?” Y/N admits softly. When Fred nods she sighs in frustration. “Then how come you’ve been ignoring me? I’ve seen you less in the past week than I did when we hated each other.”

“Because I don’t want to be just your friend,” Fred admits. “I want to hold your hand and take you on dates and kiss you and fuck you in my bed. Or your bed. Any bed really I still have fucking carpet burn on my knees,” he jokes, trying to diffuse the air in the room. “I’m starting to feel things for you, Y/N. And I thought just being your friend would be enough but it’s not.”

“Freddie,” Y/N whispers, taking his hand in hers. “Why not just say all that then?”

Fred rolls his eyes. “Maybe because you’ve spent the past five years hating my guts? And you were pretty adamant that you wanted to continue hating me no matter how much sex we had.”

“You seemed to hate me pretty strongly too,” Y/N points out with a quiet laugh. “I wanted to hate you still, I really did. No offense,” she apologizes, squeezing Fred’s hand. “But as we spent more and more time together inside and outside the trophy room I couldn’t even remember why I started hating you in the first place. Your issues with Matthew are your issues with Matthew, and I shouldn’t have made them my issues with you too.”

“That’s why you hated me? Because of Matthew?” Fred asks, pulling Y/N onto his lap.

“It sounds stupid now. But it made sense at the time,” Y/N says quietly.

Fred grips Y/N’s face carefully and brings their lips together in a slow kiss. Their mouths move together softly, and Fred can’t help but notice how perfectly they fit together. Fred nibbles on Y/N’s lips to ask permission to enter her mouth, but Y/N keeps her lips shut tight. Sensing her sudden hesitation, Fred pulls away. “What’s wrong? I thought all that meant we were going to move towards something more. Did I read it all wrong? Oh god I did. I’m sorry I’m such an idiot.”

Y/N presses a reassuring kiss to Fred’s mouth. “It did mean we’re moving towards something more. I want to be something more with you,” Y/N admits. “I just. I don’t know how to be something more with you, Freddie. I don’t know how to be your girlfriend.”

Fred chuckles. “Well I don’t exactly know how to be your boyfriend either.” Fred kisses Y/N again sweetly. “But that’s the fun part of a new relationship, isn’t it? Figuring it out together.”

“At least we’ve already got the sex part figured out.” Y/N laughs as Fred stands up and throws her down on the bed.

Fred crawls up the bed and drapes himself over Y/N. “Doesn’t hurt to work on it, though,” Fred teases, kissing her hard.