linalooneyhatter

[linalooneyhatter]

Fred W. x reader

Summary: Yn is staying at the Burrow with the Weasleys when a spontaneous trip leads them to a hidden, magical glade. Amid laughter, fairy dust, and quiet moments by an enchanted lake, Fred finds himself completely smitten. What starts as playful teasing slowly unfolds into something deeper—a slow burn of stolen glances, whispered confessions, and a night that changes everything.

Genre: Fluff

The crack of dawn sun bathed the cliffs in gold as the sea below glittered like melted coins. A soft breeze rustled the tall grass where you stood, barefoot and warm, the soles of your feet sinking into the cool earth. Behind you, laughter echoed faintly from the cottage, where the Weasley's had gathered for a rare and well-earned summer of peace.

You drifted away from the cottage, drawn by the soft call of wildflowers and the whispering wind, carrying the quiet determination of someone chasing secret places only you could imagine.

"Thought I'd find you up here."

You turned at the sound of Fred's voice—warm and familiar, like sunlight on your skin. He approached, sleeves casually rolled up, freckles dancing across his tanned arms, holding two mismatched mugs with a grin.

"Mum said you skipped breakfast."

"I wanted to watch the sunrise," you replied softly, eyes drifting back toward the horizon where the sky was painted in soft golds and pinks. "From here, it's clearer than anywhere else."

Fred handed you one of the mugs. Your fingers brushed briefly, and a small spark of warmth bloomed where you touched. You quickly pulled your hand back, cheeks warming without you even realizing.

"Well, the view's lovely, but you should have some tea at least."

He stopped beside you, close enough that your arms nearly touched. He offered you one of the mugs, and as you reached for it, your fingers brushed his—warm, calloused, steady. The contact was brief, but it sparked something in your chest that you couldn't quite name.

You pulled your hand back too quickly, almost sloshing the tea. "Sorry—"

Fred laughed under his breath. "No need to apologize. I've got more burns from George's experiments than I'll ever get from your fingers."

You looked down, hiding the small, flustered smile threatening your lips, and took a cautious sip. It was perfectly warm—honeyed and comforting.

He moved to stand beside you again, just close enough that you could feel the warmth of him. A breeze passed between you, brushing your arms together, and neither of you moved away this time.

For a moment, you both just stood there, the silence filled with the gentle sounds of morning — distant waves, birdsong, the breeze in the grass.

After you were almost finished your tea, George appeaered.

"You two should get ready if you want to get there on time."

You were going camping to The Scottish Highlands, not so far from Hogwarts. Near a lake surrounded by misty hills and enchanted pine forests. Magical creatures roaming in the distance. Peaceful, but not boring—great for stargazing, swimming, and cozy nights by a fire which was exactly you guy's plan.

---

So, George, Fred and you gathered around the old tin lid that lay innocently in the grass, utterly unremarkable—until the moment your fingers grazed it. In a blink, a fierce tug yanked behind your navel, and the world spun into a whirlwind of color and wind. Your feet left the ground; you could feel Fred and George on either side of you, their shoulders banging into yours; they were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling color...

You had used portkeys before but it still made you feel a bit of adrenaline rush each time you did.

---

Suddenly, you arrived in the heart of the Highlands—where the air smelled like heather and mischief. After dropping their bags onto the soft moss, the twins got to work setting up camp, half-focused on preparing lunch and half already plotting pranks. From that moment on, time blurred into a whirlwind of laughter and chaos, echoing through every glen and loch.

It wasn't long before all that excitement left your stomachs growling. The twins finally called a break for their magical picnic, and you couldn't help but grin at the spread. Fizzy fruit hovered in the air before landing gently on your plate, humming with tiny sparkles. Color-changing lemonade shimmered in swirling pastel hues, and the pastries—your and Fred's favorite—let out high-pitched giggles every time someone took a bite.

Refueled and buzzing with energy, you launched into your version of the Highland Games. First up: Caber Toss... with invisible spells. No one ever knew where the log landed, which only made it more hilarious. That was quickly followed by broomstick archery, where arrows zigzagged with wild abandon and nobody hit anything—except Fred's shoe.

But you weren't done. None of you ever were. Still hungry for fun, the twins shared a mischievous glance. George rummaged through their bag, pulling out a handful of their joke shop trinkets. With a flick of his wand, he enchanted them to zoom off in all directions like startled pixies.

A slip of parchment fluttered into your hands, covered in rhymes and riddles:

"Follow the trail where the daisies dance, Past the stone with the mossy pants. Find the trinket that's laughing loud— But beware, it's terribly proud."

"Scavenger hunt," Fred announced with a wicked grin. "Winner gets bragging rights and the last pastry."

The race was on.

You wandered deeper into the Highlands, the twins' laughter growing fainter behind you as you followed your next clue. 

---

After a while of searching and searching to no avail and the sun was setting down, the parchment in your hand flapped in the breeze, half-forgotten as you stepped through a thicket of tall ferns and into a hidden glade.

There it was.

A crystal-clear lake, nestled between mossy stones and wildflowers, shimmered beneath the afternoon sun. The water glowed faintly with soft silvery hues, and dancing just above the surface were dozens of tiny fairies—gossamer-winged, glowing like fireflies. They twirled through the air in graceful spirals, giggling softly, as if guarding this secret corner of the world.

You stood in awe, your breath catching.

The stillness invited you in, and you couldn't resist. Therefore, you decided to toss the parchment in the air and made it shatter into pieces with your wand. "I was already about to give up either way..."- you thought to yourself. 

With slow, reverent movements, you stepped out of your shoes, your fingers brushing over your arms as you undid the buttons of your clothes, folding them neatly by the shore leaving only your underwear.. The air was warm, the breeze just cool enough to make your skin tingle. A small group of tiny fairies surrounded your body making circles like an enchanted hula hoop as you stepped into the lake.

The water embraced you like a whispered secret, cool and silken as moonlight on your skin. Each step sent shimmering ripples across the surface, as if the lake itself were sighing in delight. When you sank to your shoulders, warmth bloomed in your chest as though the magic of the place was settling into your bones.

All around you, fairies drifted lazily on golden air currents, their laughter chiming like distant bells. They fluttered in lazy spirals above the lake, trailing glimmers of light that danced like stars on the water. It felt as if the world had drawn in a breath and held it still—time suspended, sound hushed, everything waiting reverently while you simply were.

Floating on your back, eyes closed, the tension finally began to melt away. Here, for a moment, you weren't a girl with expectations or worries. Among the bliss, your voice started knitting out a melody. Not far, a hippogriff started making its way to the lake. Once you opened your eyes and noticed it, startled your eyes connected with his and without thinking it twice or withdrawing the eye contact, you bowed your head as in reverence. The creature returned it and went back to drinking the water leaving you be as you coexisted. Without any fear you tried humming again to go back to your bubble. That is until  you heard a noise behind you.

Fred POV:

Fred had followed the riddles with half a mind—mostly distracted by the way your laughter had faded into the trees. He didn't mind losing the scavenger hunt; he just didn't want to lose sight of you. You had a way of wandering off, as if chasing stories only you could hear, and every time, he found himself wanting to follow.

The parchment in his hand flapped uselessly in the breeze. He crumpled it into a ball and stuffed it into his pocket. His boots pressed quietly into the moss as he pushed through a curtain of wild ferns.

And then he saw you.

The breath hitched in his throat.

You were in the water, half-silhouetted by the golden light of the setting sun. The lake shimmered like a dream—silver and gold rippling around you—and you moved within it like something out of a fairy tale. Fairies—actual fairies—circled lazily above the surface, their laughter soft and high like enchanted bells. The whole glade felt bewitched. Sacred.

You hadn't seen him yet.

Fred should've looked away. He knew he should've. But his feet refused to move. Something about the way you floated, eyes closed, face peaceful, hair fanned out in the water like ink in milk... it made his heart do that thing again—tighten, then flutter, then melt all at once.

And then the hippogriff.

It had wandered close without him noticing, and for a second, Fred thought it might startle you. But you opened your eyes—calm, steady—and bowed your head with such grace that even the creature seemed momentarily humbled. It bowed back and turned away, leaving you in peace.

Fred had never seen anything like it. Like you.

But then, a branch cracked under his foot.

You turned sharply, your body tensing just slightly in the water. Your eyes met his—wide, caught, shining. Quickly, you submerged your body until your collarbones wrapped your arms around yourself, seeking cover in your own embrace.

"I—sorry," Fred blurted, hands springing up in an awkward gesture of surrender. "Didn't mean to—er—interrupt your fairy baptism or... whatever this is."

A laughter escaped you among the embarrassment. 

Heat flooded his face, coloring his neck and cheeks in a helpless bloom. He turned away in a rush, torn between the urge to give you privacy and the quiet pull anchoring him to the spot beside you.

"I just... you vanished," he said, quieter now, his voice uneven in a way that betrayed the nerves he rarely showed. "And I may have panicked a little. Wasn't exactly expecting to find you in the middle of a bloody enchanted glade, looking like something out of a bedtime story." 

You didn't speak at first.

He risked a glance.

You watched his back for a moment, the way his shoulders stiffened even as he tried to look relaxed. His ears were burning red. It made you smile—soft, involuntary.

The fairies hadn't flown away. They lingered, floating lazily around the lake like they, too, were waiting to see what would happen next.

You sank a little deeper into the water, folding your arms lightly around yourself—not out of embarrassment, exactly, but to hold the strange, glittering warmth that had begun to gather in your chest.

"Fred," you said quietly.

He half-turned at the sound of your voice, eyes cautious but full of something else, too—something warmer, waiting.

"It's all right," you added, tilting your head slightly. "I don't mind that you're here." A smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

That seemed to short-circuit something in him. His mouth opened, then shut again, as if the words had slipped away before he could catch them. One hand reached up to rub the back of his neck—the same nervous habit you'd seen a dozen times when he didn't know where to put all his energy.

So this was what it took to quiet Fred Weasley. Bold, clever, always-ready-with-a-quip Fred... rendered speechless.

"I could—sit closer, if that's not weird?" he offered after a beat, voice suddenly very sincere.

You gave a small nod. "Not weird. Just... don't scare them off."

"I'll be quiet as a puffskein," he promised.

He sat again, this time just at the edge of the water, legs drawn up, arms resting loosely over his knees. The fairies drifted between you, casting little glints of gold across the surface of the lake. You could feel his presence—not overwhelming, just steady and warm, like sunlight brushing your skin. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, threaded with sincerity, as if he belonged to the quiet magic of the place as much as the fairies and the breeze.

"You've got a very beautiful voice, Yn."

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden honesty in his voice. It wasn't flirtatious or teasing—it was simple, genuine.

A ripple moved through the lake, catching the fading sunlight, and for a moment you weren't sure if your skin was warm from the water or from his words.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop," he added quickly, eyes flicking toward the fairies instead of you. "But I heard you, back when you were humming. It was like..." He shrugged, trying to grasp something intangible. "Like the whole place leaned in to listen."

That made you glance at him again—and he was already looking at you, like he couldn't help it. There was something in his expression you hadn't seen before, something quieter than his usual grin. Like he was seeing something more.

You drew a small pattern in the water with your fingertips, trying to ground yourself in the motion. "This place feels like a secret, doesn't it?"

Fred nodded. "Yeah. And I'm glad I found it... with you in it."

The fairies flitted closer, one landing briefly on Fred's shoulder before darting away, scattering gold dust in its wake.

He laughed under his breath, a little stunned. "See? Even they like you."

You smiled fully this time, the kind of smile you didn't realize had been building for a while. The warmth in your chest glowed a little brighter.

"Um... Fred?"

He looked over quickly, eyebrows rising as if you'd just tugged him out of a dream.

"Yes?"

You tilted your head toward the shore. "Would you mind handing me my slip dress? The light one—it's right there on top."

Fred blinked, then scrambled upright so fast he nearly startled a fairy off course." Yes, 'course!"

He darted to your clothes, handling the folded fabric with care. He returned to the water's edge and turned his back automatically, holding it out behind him like a peace offering.

"Not peeking. Sworn on my honor. And my wand."

You laughed softly, stepping from the lake with graceful steps that barely disturbed the surface. The fairies shifted aside to let you pass, as if they understood.

You slipped the dress over your damp skin, the fabric clinging gently and light enough to feel like mist. You padded silently back to the water's edge.

"All right," you called. "You can turn around."

Fred did, and for a second he just... looked. And maybe it was the light, or the fairies still drifting lazily around you, but you saw that expression again—that rare, quiet wonder.

Then you waded back into the lake, your dress fanning out around you like petals on the surface.

"You're going back in?" he asked, half amused, half awed.

You grinned over your shoulder. "I wasn't finished enjoying the magic yet. You coming or what?"

Fred hesitated only a moment before tugging off his shoes and socks and rolling up his trousers to his knees with a grin. "If I drown, tell Mum I died bravely. Like a Gryffindor."

You snorted. "You're wading into ankle-deep fairy water, not storming a cursed castle."

"Same thing, really," he said, stepping into the lake beside you. "One wrong move and I'm cursed to sparkle forever."

You splashed him, a light flick of water across his arm. "Honestly, you'd love that."

Fred laughed—loud and bright—and splashed back. Soon you were caught in a playful dance of glinting water and fairy dust, laughter echoing through the trees. Fred cupped some water in his hands, pretending to sneak up on you, only to trip slightly on a submerged stone. You laughed so hard your stomach ached, and when he looked up, grinning and soaking, you knew this would be one of those moments you'd always carry with you.

That was when a very familiar voice broke the spell:

"Well, this explains everything."

You both turned mid-laugh to see George emerging from the trees, soaked with sweat, his arms full of glittering trinkets and fluttering parchment scraps.

"Here I am," he continued loudly, "hiking halfway across bloody Scotland chasing riddles about mossy pants and dancing daisies—and you two are here, hosting a bloody pool party with sparkle fairies!"

Fred grinned sheepishly. "You found the last clue, then?"

George looked at the items in his hands, then back at you both, soaked and shining in the golden light. "I found the last clue, outsmarted a pixie, and got chased by a sentient toadstool, thanks very much."

You covered your mouth, trying not to laugh.

"Don't suppose there's a medal in that water for 'brother most abandoned during scavenger hunts'?" he added, wading dramatically into the shallows, boots and all. "Because I deserve at least a pastry and a foot rub."

Fred tossed him one of the fairies' giggling pastries from the mossy bank. "Here. You earned it."

George caught it mid-air, took a bite, and winced as it squealed in protest. "Tastes like betrayal," he said through a mouthful. 

---

Once they were coming back to the Burrow, they were met with Molly, who was standing at the garden gate with her hands on her hips and a tea towel slung over one shoulder.

The expression on her face straddled the line between relief and exasperation, which, to be fair, was her usual response to anything involving her twin sons.

"There you are, you three!" she called, eyes sweeping over the three of you with a mother's uncanny ability to assess injuries, missing clothing, and emotional states in a single glance. "You've been gone all day, George, you said you'd be here by ten! Honestly, what were you lot doing—fighting trolls in the Highlands?"

"Something like that," George said, dropping his scavenger hunt haul on the garden bench with dramatic flair.

"What?"- exclaimed Molly expecting an clarifying answer

"I, for one, nearly perished."- continued George however.

"From walking," Fred muttered with a wink in your direction.

George shot him a glare. "From neglect, actually."

"Oh, come on, you're a big boy, there is nothing you can't handle."- said Fred.

Molly's gaze shifted to you, and softened. "And you, dear. You look half-fey. What on earth did those two get you into?!"

You smiled shyly. "Just... exploring. I'm alright. We just wondered a bit from our path and found a pretty glade and had a bit of a dip"

Fred, still a bit glittery, added under his breath, "She tamed a hippogriff, too. Not to brag on her behalf."

Molly blinked, then let out a huff of amusement. "Only you three would turn a camping trip into a fairy tale." She stepped aside and waved them in. "Come on then—shoes off, cloaks hung, and straight to the table. I've got stew on the stove and apple crumble cooling."

George whooped and bolted for the door. "If there's extra crumble, I call it! Because I suffered!"

Later that night:

The stars hung like lanterns above the Burrow, silver-dusted and shimmering in the deep velvet sky. The breeze had quieted into a hush, and the world felt wrapped in a lullaby. It had gone a bit colder as it usually is in the summer there.

You had sat bundled in a worn cotton blanket, your fingers curled around a steaming mug of cocoa George had insisted on making before he wandered off to bed—muttering something about needing sleep if he was to survive another day of "romantic woodland nonsense". The way his confusion and slight frustration made you feel bad but not that much that you wouldn't let a giggle escape.

Fred hadn't spoken in a while.

All three of you slept in the same small cozy room, its walls humming softly with the breath of summer night. Fred sat across from you, quiet and still, the moonlight pouring through the window and catching the slope of his cheek in silver. His hair glowed like molten copper in the pale light, a quiet crown. In his hands, an open packet of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans sat as he shoved the beans in his mouth one by one. His brow was faintly furrowed, not with worry but of that of one who is lost in thought, his eyes fixed ahead—somewhere past the room, past the moment, as if he were trying to chase down a feeling he couldn't quite name.

"You've gone quiet," you murmured, your voice low and ribbon-soft in the hush. "Unusual for a Weasley, especially Fred Weasley."

Fred smiled faintly. 

"I'm thinking," he said.

"That is dangerous."

A chuckle danced from his chest, but it faded quickly, replaced by something softer, more solemn. His gaze dropped to the ground, then drifted upward—tracing the constellations like secrets he almost understood.

"Today felt like a dream someone forgot to wake me from," he said finally. "A perfect sort of dream. The kind with singing and fairies and stolen pastries and lakes that glow like spells. But..."

He paused, his voice catching just enough to make you hold your breath.

"...I think the only reason it felt that way was because you were in it."

The words were gentle, careful—like something precious he didn't want to drop.

The fire crackled. The wind shifted.

Your heartbeat fluttered like a moth caught under your ribs.

Fred glanced up at you, eyes raw and wide with something you hadn't seen in him before—something unguarded. "I didn't come after you just because of the scavenger hunt. I followed you because I always do." he asked, quieter now, almost shy. "Doesn't matter where you wander, I just... end up there too."

Your throat tightened.

"I think I've been following you longer than I realized," he added. "And I think maybe I never want to stop."

You exhaled, soft and shaky, like you'd been holding it for far too long. As though he'd pulled the truth right out of you without even trying.

"You always talk like that?" you whispered, wonder slipping into your voice.

"Like what?"

"Like you're casting poetry instead of spells."

A crooked smile touched his lips. "Maybe I am."

You chuckled. "Can I have one of those?" you asked, nodding at the jelly beans in his hand.

Fred tossed one your way with a crooked smile. You popped it into your mouth—and immediately spat it back out with a dramatic groan.

"Ugh—soap! For Merlin's sake!" you spluttered, wiping your tongue with the sleeve of your jumper.

Fred burst out laughing, the sound rich and unguarded. You shushed him through your own rising giggles, both of you trying to keep quiet in the hush of the sleeping house. But the warmth in your chest betrayed you, blooming like a sunbeam behind your ribs and reaching all the way to your cheeks.

The laughter faded, leaving behind a silence not of awkwardness, but of possibility. The kind of quiet that hangs between two people when something unspoken is about to become real.

You didn't dare move. You were afraid that if you spoke, the moment might vanish—slip like smoke through your fingers and into the dark between the trees.

Fred's voice broke the silence, barely above a breath. "Do you wanna know a secret, Yn/n?"

You looked in his eyes anticipated. 

"I'm madly in love with you"

"What?"- you whispered.

Fred's voice was quieter than you'd ever heard it, as if he were afraid that saying it too loud might break the spell of the moment.

"I don't know when it started," he said, eyes flicking to yours, then away, "Not really. Not the glance, nor the laugh, nor the moment when everything changed. It must've been raining or sunny or nothing at all. All I know is I was already falling before I knew I'd stepped off the edge.

I just... looked up one day, and there you were. And suddenly everything felt different. Familiar. Like I'd been walking toward you without knowing."

You didn't dare breathe.

He leaned in, his thumb brushing your knuckles, reverent.

"You're in my head all the bloody time," he whispered with a soft, self-deprecating smile. "I miss you even when you're right next to me. It's ridiculous, honestly. I lie awake missing your voice, your laugh... just the feeling of you being near."

His smile faltered, and something raw surfaced in his eyes.

"I love you. And it's not the kind of love that politely knocks. It's the kind that breaks the door down, moves in, and refuses to leave. It fills my lungs and chest and bones. Some days, I don't know how to hold it all."

A pause, then a breath so soft it barely reached you:

"If I'm going to drown in anything, I hope it's you."

For a heartbeat, you just stared at him. The world felt impossibly still. Even the stars above seemed to hold their breath.

You didn't say a word. Didn't have to.

Instead, you reached up—slowly, gently—and touched his cheek, fingertips brushing the line of his jaw like you were afraid he might disappear if you weren't careful. His breath hitched beneath your touch.

"I was already drowning," you whispered, voice trembling, "Long before I knew what it meant to want someone like this."

Fred's eyes searched yours, wide and shining. And then— the space between you folded in on itself.

Your lips met his like a secret finally spoken aloud, soft, certain.

Made of breath and starlight.

He kissed you like he'd been waiting his whole life to do it— like the world might end, but not before this. Not before you.

His hand curled around your waist, the other brushing the back of your neck, and for a moment, time slowed into something golden and quiet, like a memory you knew you'd carry forever.

When you finally pulled apart, he pressed his forehead to yours, breathless.

"Well," he murmured, smile crooked and warm, "There's no coming back from that, is there?"

You smiled too, eyes fluttering shut as your heart raced.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

A/N: WELL, THIS WAS A LONG ONE BUT I REALLY ENJOYED WRITING IT, HOPE YOU HAD AS MUSH FUN READING IT <3

[linalooneyhatter]

Requests

I'm inspired and taking requests if you have any <3

Characters I write for:

The Maze Runner: Newt, Gally, Thomas

Harry potter: anybody you like from the golden trio or the marauders or anyone else

Christian Bale characters

Will poulter characters

idk who else but feel free to ask I may know your character as well

[linalooneyhatter]

Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: He helps you through your struggles with food.

Warnings: eating disorder, bit of a panic attack.

You sit alone at the edge of the courtyard, textbooks open in front of you but barely read. Professor Snape let your class out early—something he rarely does—leaving you with a rare pocket of quiet before your next lesson. Lately, you’ve found yourself gravitating toward these quiet corners more and more, trading the chaos and laughter of Fred and George Weasley for solitude and study.

A classmate spots you and waves you over to a small group gathered around a professor offering extra tutoring for tomorrow’s exam���one in a subject you've always quietly struggled with. You hesitate, then nod and follow, clutching your books tighter than necessary.

Not long after, someone offers you a steaming cup of tea. You give a polite smile and shake your head. “I’m fine,” you say quickly. Your stomach twists—not from hunger, but from something else you can’t quite name—and you lower your gaze back to your notes, pretending to read.

Not far from where you're seated, Fred and George are playing catch with one of their enchanted fireworks, tossing it back and forth across the place with reckless glee.

The game comes to an abrupt halt when they spot you walking in, arms full of books, your steps a little slower than usual. In a flash, they disappear behind a pair of armchairs, creeping up behind you like mischievous shadows.

“Boo,” Fred whispers right beside your ear.

You flinch, nearly dropping your books. “Merlin’s beard—” you mutter, whirling around to find both twins grinning like they’ve just pulled off a masterpiece of mischief.

“Need a hand, love?” George asks, already relieving you of your stack of textbooks.

“Thanks,” you say, rubbing your temples with a tired sigh. “At least one of you has manners.”

Fred smirks. “So, did you get any?”

“Any what?” you ask, blinking in confusion.

“Any wrinkles,” George explains, feigning deep concern. “You’ve been buried in those ancient books with that grim little face—you’ll age into one if you’re not careful.”

You pause, then let out a soft laugh, rolling your eyes. “If I start quoting textbook passages in my sleep, you have permission to hex me.”

“Yeah, you should really focus all that energy on something more worthwhile,” Fred adds, giving your shoulder a playful nudge.

“Like what?” you ask, raising a brow.

“Us,” they say in perfect unison, throwing their arms out dramatically like they’re on stage.

You snort. “Of course,” you reply dryly, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrays your amusement.

Fred tosses an arm around your shoulders as the three of you make your way to the Great Hall, George juggling your books like props in some slapstick routine. The corridor is filled with warm scents—roast chicken, fresh bread, treacle tart—and the soft hum of lunchtime chatter floats toward you.

For a while, whatever’s been weighing on you slips to the back of your mind. Their banter and brightness wrap around you like a charm you don’t want to shake off.

You watch them pile their plates high with snacks and steaming food, laughing between bites and bursts of conversation. Your own plate sits empty. After a moment’s hesitation, you draw in a quiet breath and reach out, summoning the courage to grab something—anything.

But the sight of the food turns your stomach. You have no appetite at all. The warmth of the meal, the richness of it, only leaves you with a sick feeling you can't explain—not even to yourself.

Your thoughts began to spiral as you stared down at the food in front of you. It felt like it was staring back—accusing, overwhelming. Each dish blurred into the next, a chaotic mess of smells and textures that made your head swirl. The pressure to eat, to act normal, pressed in on your chest like a weight.

Panic crept in slowly, wrapping its cold fingers around your ribs, tightening with every breath. Your skin prickled with unease. No one seemed to notice the rising fear in your eyes, the way your chest hitched when you inhaled, or how the plates before you seemed to taunt you—silent, monstrous, whispering thoughts that only existed in your mind.

Your stomach twisted sharply, nausea coiling like a storm just beneath your ribs. You pressed a trembling hand to your lips, trying to will it away, to breathe through it. But the air felt thick—too heavy to swallow. The pressure to stay, to smile, to eat—it was suffocating.

Another wave of nausea surged, more violent than the last, and your cheeks puffed as you fought the rising urge to gag. You couldn’t sit there any longer. The walls felt too close, the noise too sharp, the weight of pretending far too much.

Mumbling a quick excuse—something about needing fresh air—you stood and walked briskly toward the doors, careful not to break into a run. You kept your eyes low, hoping no one would call out or follow. What you didn’t realize was that Fred had been watching you. He had seen the stiffness in your shoulders, the way your hands trembled when you reached for your glass and never drank. Maybe it was instinct, or maybe it was the way he knew you so well—but something in him stirred.

Without a word, he nudged George and murmured a quiet, “I’ve got it,” before slipping out after you.

Just beyond the Great Hall doors, you leaned against the stone wall, trying to steady your breathing. The cool corridor air brushed against your flushed skin, a small relief against the storm inside you. You clenched your jaw, blinking back the tight sting behind your eyes, trying to pull yourself together.

“Hey,” came a soft voice.

“Hey,” Fred said again, quieter now, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t answer at first. You were too focused on your own breathing—or lack of it. Your chest felt tight, each inhale shaky and shallow, like your lungs had forgotten how to work properly. You wrapped your arms around yourself, curling slightly into the wall.

Fred didn’t come any closer right away. He just stood nearby, giving you space, as if he knew crowding you would make it worse.

“All right,” he said gently. “Let’s try something.”

You looked at him, eyes wide and glassy, but said nothing.

“Can you look at me?” he asked, and you managed the smallest nod.

Fred crouched down a little so he wasn’t towering over you. “Good. Now just copy me, yeah? Breathe in…” He exaggerated a deep breath, slow and steady, holding it for a second. “…and out.”

You tried to mimic him, your chest hitching as you inhaled. It wasn’t perfect, but it helped.

“There we go. Again. In…” Another breath, soft and measured. “And out. Doesn’t have to be big. Just enough.”

You focused on him—his voice, his breathing, the gentle steadiness of it all. Eventually, the fog began to lift, just slightly. Your hands still trembled, but the wave of panic was starting to pass, leaving a dull ache in its place. Fred let you rest your head against his chest and closed your eyes trying to just focus on breathing with him.

Fred waited a moment before speaking again. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” he said quietly. “But… something’s not right. I’ve seen it. The way you look at food like it’s hurting you. The way you’ve been pulling away lately.”

Your breath caught again—not from panic this time, but from something deeper. Shame, maybe. Or fear. You looked away, blinking hard.

“You don’t have to explain,” he added, softer. “But I’m here, yeah? You don’t have to pretend around me.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. The words sat at the back of your tongue, heavy and sharp.

“I… I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you said finally, your voice cracking. “I just… I can’t eat. Not like everyone else. It makes me feel sick. It’s like my mind won’t let me.”

Fred’s expression didn’t change. He didn’t look shocked or uncomfortable. He just listened.

“I feel like I have to earn it, sometimes. Like… if I eat, I’m failing at something. Being weak. I know it’s messed up, but it won’t stop.”

“You’re not messed up,” he said, firm but kind. “You’re hurting. And I’m really bloody glad you told me, because now I can actually try to help.”

You wiped your eyes quickly, embarrassed, but he only nudged your shoulder gently.

“You don’t have to fix it all today,” he added. “Just… let me sit with you through it, yeah? We’ll figure it out. Together.”

The weight didn’t vanish entirely, but with Fred beside you—quiet, steady, and unmistakably there—it felt a little easier to carry. The fear was still there, tucked into the corners of your mind, but it no longer felt like it was swallowing you whole. You weren’t alone. Not anymore.

Fred spoke up again, gently nudging the silence. “You know Madame Hooch isn’t showing up to class today? She’s come down with something. McGonagall said we’ve got the hour free to study…” He gave you a sideways glance. “But I’d say you’ve done more than enough of that lately. Don’t you think?”

You let out a soft huff, your voice dry. “Sick of studying. I’ve had it up to here.”

Fred grinned, clearly relieved to hear some spark return to your tone. “Brilliant,” he said. “Because I was going to suggest something else.”

You raised a brow, curious despite yourself.

“How about we sneak off for a bit? Somewhere quiet—edge of the Forbidden Forest maybe. No pressure, no books. Just you and me.”

He offered it so casually, but there was something behind it—a silent promise that he’d keep holding space for you, no matter what you were carrying.

And after everything, it sounded like exactly what you needed.

[linalooneyhatter]

Newt x reader shot

Summary: Newt and Yn have an bit of an argument about her running the next morning, however, Newt who is totally against it makes her flinch by accident.

Warnings: I'm not sure, ANGST, going nonverbal, bit of fluff...

It was late at night. Y/N had a hut to herself—partly for privacy, partly for her safety. Sometimes Newt stayed over, when things were calm between them, when the silence between words felt like understanding instead of tension. But not tonight.

Tonight, the air was sharp, thick with disagreement.

They stood in the middle of the dimly lit hut, shadows stretching along the canvas walls as the lantern flickered between them. The argument had been simmering, but now it boiled.

“You’re not running with Minho tomorrow, and that’s final,” Newt said, voice low but firm, like he was trying to keep something inside from slipping out.

“Why?” Y/N snapped, arms crossed, her eyes shining with frustrated heat. “Because the Grievers are ‘getting worse’? You don’t think I can handle it?”

“No, I don’t think you should have to handle it,” he shot back. “Especially when it’s this dangerous. Minho said they were acting different—faster, unpredictable. I’m not sending you out there just to get torn apart!”

“I’m not just anyone, Newt. I’ve trained for this. I deserve to go.”

Newt stepped closer, brow furrowed. “You think I don’t know what you’re capable of? This isn't about doubting you—it's about not risking you when we don’t have to.”

Y/N shook her head, scoffing bitterly. “So I’m just supposed to sit here and feel useless again?”

He opened his mouth, trying to form a response, but she cut him off.

“Every time you get scared, I’m the one who pays for it.”

His jaw tightened, and he lifted a hand to run it through his hair—tired, exasperated.

But Y/N flinched.

It was subtle, almost imperceptible—but it stopped him cold. His hand froze in the air, and his eyes flicked to hers. 

She hadn’t meant to. It was instinct. A ghost of something unspoken.

The silence hit like a punch to the chest.

Newt’s hand lowered slowly, deliberately, as if any sudden movement might fracture the moment further. His heart cracked under the weight of her flinch—of what it meant.

“I… I wasn’t—” he began, his voice a hushed tremor. “Y/N, I’d never—”

She didn’t answer. Her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she backed into the wall and slid down, her knees pulled close, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts. Tears shimmered in her eyes, and for a second, she looked impossibly small—like the world had just become too much.

Newt stood frozen, staring. He’d seen her angry, brave, stubborn. But never like this. Never so broken.

And what crushed him most was knowing it was him—his tone, his presence—that had made her feel unsafe, even for a second.

His thoughts spiraled. How many times had she steadied him through his own unraveling? Held him through the nightmares, coaxed him back when the pressure turned to rage? She had always been his calm in the chaos. And now, he had become the storm.

Without hesitation, he crossed the space—carefully, quietly—and stopped just short of reaching her. He didn’t touch her. Didn’t say her name. He just sat beside her, close enough to be there, far enough to give her room. He brought his hands up, gently covering his face, as though shielding her from the part of him he hated most in that moment.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured finally, voice thick with guilt. “I didn’t mean to scare you. That’s the last thing I ever wanted.”

He didn’t look at her—just stared at the floor, breathing slowly, willing himself to stay still, to give her control of the silence.

So, she opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Her throat felt tight, like the words were stuck somewhere between her chest and her lips. She tried again, jaw twitching slightly, but still… silence.

Her hands gripped the hem of her shirt, twisting the fabric as her breathing turned shallow. She wasn’t just upset—she was shut down. The buzzing in her ears got louder, drowning out Newt’s voice. She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

Not because she didn’t want to. Because she couldn’t.

When Newt finally noticed the shift in her posture—the way her shoulders curled inward, the way her eyes darted everywhere but his—he stopped.

"Y/N?" His voice softened. "Hey. It's okay. You don’t have to say anything. Just breathe, yeah?"

She nodded—barely—but it was enough.

"Can I hold you? Would that help?"- he asked. 

She nodded, and Newt pulled her gently into his chest, wrapping his arms around her with quiet care. Her cheek pressed against him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the rise and fall of his breath offering a fragile sense of safety. The tears came again—silent this time, slipping down her cheeks unchecked.

Newt felt the shift in her, the subtle tremble in her shoulders, and responded without a word. He rubbed soothing circles along her back, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. The world seemed to slow around them, his touch and presence anchoring her until her breathing evened out, her body growing heavier with the pull of sleep.

Without breaking the moment, he slipped one arm beneath her knees, the other still cradling her back, and lifted her with effortless care. She didn’t protest—just leaned into him, as if trusting that, for now, he would carry the weight of it all. Quietly, he walked her to the bed, the hush of the room wrapping around them like a blanket.

He laid her down with care, pulling the blanket over her as if afraid even the air might bruise her. For a moment, he stood there, watching her lashes flutter closed, her breathing evening out against the pillow. Whatever storm had passed through her had left its mark, but for now, peace had returned—weak, but real.

Newt sat beside the bed, one hand resting lightly near hers, not touching but close enough to reach if she needed it. The shadows lengthened around them, but he didn’t move. He would stay as long as it took. As long as she needed.

And though neither of them said a word, something unspoken lingered in the quiet—something steady, something safe. Something that, despite everything, hadn't broken.

[linalooneyhatter]

Gally x reader Pt. 2

The sun had long set over the Glade, casting the Medhut in a soft amber glow from the lone lantern Clint had left by the door. Most of the Gladers had turned in for the night, it was not long since yn had fallen asleep, as for Gally, he was still wide awake, sitting on the edge of Yn's bed, careful not to disturb the bandaged girl tucked under thin, scratchy blankets.

She stirred a little, her brow creasing with discomfort. Gally leaned in, concern written all over his face.

"You alright?" he asked, keeping his voice low, almost gentle enough to get lost in the night air.

Yn didn't open her eyes, but her lips parted. "Hurts."

Gally reached for the damp cloth in the bowl beside the bed, wrung it out.

"I know," he murmured, brushing her hair back with rough fingers. "You're burning up again. Damn it..."

He hated seeing her like this; bruised, broken, her usual fire smothered by pain. He had seen people injured in the Glade before, but this? This was different. This was her.

"Here," he said, lifting a cup of water to her lips. "You gotta drink."

Yn tried, her throat bobbing with effort. A little water trickled down her chin, and without thinking, Gally wiped it away with the edge of his sleeve.

She blinked up at him, her voice hoarse. "You should be resting too."

"I'm not tired"-he said dismissing his own care.

Yn rolled her eyes. "You're so stubborn and yet you complain about my tough-headedness"

He chuckled quietly, then reached for the salve Clint had left behind. "This might sting a little," he warned as he pulled back the blanket and lifted the edge of her bandage.

Yn flinched but didn't complain, trusting him completely. Gally's fingers were gentle, far more delicate than anyone would expect from a guy like him. His hands, calloused from building and fighting, handled her like she was made of glass.

Yn's eyes fluttered closed again, exhaustion overtaking her. Gally tucked the blanket around her shoulders and slid his hand into hers, letting his thumb graze over her knuckles.

"I'll be here when you wake up," he murmured.

He stayed there the rest of the night, sitting at her side in the quiet dark, holding her hand like a silent vow.

A little bit later, Gally started to doze off, while still holding YN's hand, he hissed as he tucked himself in his own bed next to her and closed his eyes. --- However, the peace would later be disturbed as Yn began twitching and groaning. Gally felt the movement and was quickly awake. "Yn? Is everything alright, sunshine?" He looked over at Yn's unsteady self and in less than a second was kneeling down before her eyes. "Yn, darlin', look at me, open those eyes. Tell me what's wrong."

Gally then placed his palm on Yn's forehead and noticed that she was burning up again. Without wasting any more time, he got up and went for the wet cloth, he damped it and put it on Yn's back of the neck. He held her hand again and kissed the back of it never parting away his gaze. Yn's groaning started again after ceasing for a couple of minutes and began tearing up."Shhh"- shushed Gally in an attempt to calm her. "Oh, gosh, Yn..." Gally noticed Yn's grasp on his hand tighten. He looked up at her and noticed it. "Shit, shit, shit..."

 She had begun shaking violently.

Gally's breath caught in his throat. "No, no, no..." he muttered, scrambling for the blanket and freeing her from any obstacles in the way that could cause her harm or more distress. His heart pounded against his ribs as panic tried to claw its way up his throat.

"Clint! MEDHUT! NOW!" he bellowed toward the door, not caring if he woke the whole Glade.

Yn whimpered again, her whole body jerking as if caught in some nightmare she couldn't escape. Gally climbed halfway onto the cot, trying to steady her with his arms. "I'm here, okay? You're not alone. I've got you."

Moments later, footsteps pounded against the packed earth outside, and Clint burst in, still pulling his shirt over his head. "What's going on?"

"She's burning up—shaking like hell," Gally snapped, voice thick with fear. "Do something!"

Clint didn't waste time. He rushed to Yn's side, checking her vitals with practiced urgency. Gally didn't let go of her hand, even when Clint gently pushed him aside.

"She's septic," Clint muttered, mostly to himself. "Infection must've gotten worse."

Gally blinked, his grip tightening. "What do we do?"

"I need more herbs, antibiotics. We don't have enough here." Clint looked up, eyes grim. "We'll have to cool her down and pray it buys us time."

Gally nodded, already pulling more water into the bowl, soaking cloth after cloth, laying them on her neck, forehead, arms. "Stay with me, sunshine," he whispered. "You don't get to leave. Not you."

As Clint prepared a fresh dose of medicine, Gally leaned closer, his voice barely audible. "I'll trade places with you if I have to. Just fight, alright? Please."

Yn stirred faintly, her brows furrowing through the pain, and Gally felt hope flicker in his chest. She was still in there. Still fighting.

[linalooneyhatter]

Gally x reader TMR pt.1

Just a Gally x reader shot. Tell me what you think. 

It was a little earlier before Newt would dismiss the runners first thing at dawn. It was a little dark outside when Yn tip-toed out of her hut and onto the Medhut.  As she approached Gally's injured and sleeping figure, her heart ached and mind raced with all the possible ways she could've stopped this from happening. Next, she adjusted her night dress and came down to the bed's level. Yn's brow furrowed at Gally's sweet gently snoring face. Quickly, she grabbed a hold of his hand and tears formed in her eyes. Then, she ghosted her fingers over the bruise under his eye near his cheekbone.

"Im so sorry,  Gally."- she whimpered. - "I hope you wake up soon, Captain."

With her salty tears all over their hands, she kissed his and let go. Just before she walked out the door to get ready for the day, she turned back at him and said: 

"I won't disappoint you today, you'll see."

-------

Yn's job wasn't given to her because of her talent or good hand at that job. It was because all the others had all the help they could get. She tried the kitchen but Frypan couldn't deal having someone else in the kitchen, he felt like he couldn't have more space for anybody else in there but him. However, he would occasionally let someone in like Chuck to do some small tasks when his hands where all busy like peeling potatoes and things like that. But no where else really needed a new helper, and as for running, Yn was a mess.  So, that's how YN ended up with the builders.

After waking up in the Glade disoriented and anxious, Y/N chose the Builders because the physical labor helped calm her nerves and made her feel real. She wasn't ready to run through mazes or make decisions—she just needed something that kept her hands busy and her mind quiet. At first, Gally wasn't so fond of the idea of the greenie getting thrown with him just because. But that changed once he saw how clever she was with her hands—and how quickly she picked things up. She chose the Builders not because she dreamed of lifting a hammering wall, but because the weight of the work grounded her in a world that didn't make sense yet.

Gally's builders where nowhere near nice. They were savages and all in all, just brainless apes. So, she had to keep an eye over her shoulder. Those last three days since Gally fell into his coma, the other builders would take advantage of the situation and tease Yn, make her work overtime and heavily. That was one of the reasons why Yn became less social and started sitting by herself at eating times. She was quite exhausted for that matter. Also, she didn't feel like she could complain because she had already promised Gally that she would make him proud for all those times he saved her ass from the slammer and most everyone doubted her.

After having her breakfast Yn, got her water and headed to their work place.

Unfortunately, her mates started mocking her and catcalling her. She couldn't care less however. She only had one thing in mind, doing her daily job as a member of that small society and making dear Gally proud. Once Yn and some others had cut down a big oak tree, the ones that were holding on to the tree along with her gave eachother a look as a sign to let go.

"I need a hand here, boys! Get back!"- She yelled. However, nobody answered. making her lose her strength and balance causing the massive tall tree fell on top of her, knocking her to the hard ground hitting her head on one of the boulders.

The crushing weight of the tree was suffocating, squeezing the life out of her muscle by muscle as she gathered what little breath she had left in her to let out a desperate cry for help. Nobody seemed to hear. Or pretended not to - her pained scream could've hardly blended into the background.

That is, until one of those apes noticed Yn's blood sliding on the grass next to him.

Everything from there happened like a blur to poor Yn.

"Shit, guys!"-the boy said to catch everyone else's attention.

"Alby!"- he called.

"Don't get him, you slinthead!"- replied the other

"Shh,I wont tell him it was us."- he hissed back.

Alby, upon seeing the scene, ran towards Yn and tried lifting the heavy tree from her with the help of some of the boys.

"1, 2,...3!"- And with that, they released Yn. "Call the med-jacks quick, Newt!"- A confused Newt that walked by started limping towards the Medhut. Alby, trying his best to keep his composure pulled and held Yn, putting pressure on her gashed head.

"Will any of you shanks tell me what happened here."- He firmly ordered.

"It- It was just a joke, Alby..."

"Come on, we had our eyes on her all the time"

The tension was palpable as this could be the doom of the guilty that took their "joke" too far.

Few moments later, as the medjacks carried Yn to the hut, Newt kept talking to her trying to keep her awake as he saw the unstoppable running blood pouring.

-----------

Jeff and Clint did their best to stitch Yn up as she squirmed and cried, crismon all over the place. Although, Yn would faint later on during the stitching process which made it easier for the Medjacks to do their job.

The next morning, just before the rooster sang his morning song, YN laid to rest covered with a blanket just next to her dear friend Gally in the med hut. Who, by the way, started showing signs of waking up.

He groaned and grunted, fluttered his eyelids trying to get them open as held his shoulder reliving the pain. Next, carefully he sat up in the bed and rubbed his eyes using his healed arm. He then started looking around for his shirt with a hint of disorientation. That's when he noticed her. Her stitched bandaged head and bloodied bandages around her torso, her pretty eye tinted with blue and purple, the way the sun made her glimmer... The fact that such a gentle saintly looking girl could be this bruised and hurt made his heart ache.

"Yn?"- he muttered visibly confused.

He hurriedly limped to her.

"Oh God, what happened to you?"- he softly whispered, concern clear in his voice. As if seeing her like that made him feel her pain.

Suddenly, Gally couldn't help but hear a conversation just outside the hut. It was Jeff and Clint, discussing Yn's state.

"Well, whichever it is, I have her ice and bandages here."

"Do you need any help with that?"

"Nah, don't worry, l can manage..."- Jeff was abruptly interrupted by Gally pushing him outside with his good hand on his chest.

"Gally, you're awake, what-"- answered Jeff.

"What's with Yn? What happened why is she in here?"- blabbered Gally.

"Calm down, Gally, you'll tear your wounds open! I'll tell you what happened" -he said "It was your dear builder friends, Gally. They did this to her. They overwork her, you don't know, man. But, yn has been teased a lot these three days while you were out."- he explained. Just when Gally was about to flash through the door, Jeff held him with enough strength he didn't even know he had and stopped him: "Hey, I'm serious about you opening your wounds again." - he growled firmly looking in his eyes. "Alby is going to deal with them, they're going to be put in the slammer once they finish their part today." "Tell me... exactly what happened, Jeff"- demanded Gally. Jeff started approaching Yn's bed, kneeling down to its level and starting to check her vitals while explaining. "They were cutting down trees. They let one fall on top of her on purpose. Now she has a concussion to not even mention her bruised ribs. We don't know exactly when she'll wake up."- he continued.

Gally was at a loss for words, he kept wondering how could he ever leave her behind and let her be messed with to the point of becoming in such a critical state.

Her thoughts were interrupted once yn began groaning and shaking, softly sobbing. Both of the boys rushed to her. Gally held her hand, brought it to his quivering lips and began reassuring her. "It's fine, Yn. I'm here. I'm very sorry I wasn't there..." -"It hurts- she cried- It's awful." Jeff started applying the ice bag on her head. Gally on the other hand, was fuming. He clenched his jaw and balled his fists, as much as his left one hurt, and stormed out. Outside was Zack. Gally had no doubt that he was the one to blame for Yn's incident along with his other mates. They were chatting about as they worked. That's when they noticed Gally directed towards them. Zack got up.

"Gally you woke up, man!"

Without hesitation, when he was an inch away from the miserable guy, Gally went straight for his throat. The others yelled and started a commotion along with the fighting pair.

"What are you doing, man?"

"Calm down, Gally!"

The broad guy let go of his throat and began punching him. Zack attempted and turned Gally under him so now he was the one on top giving the punches. Among grunts and groans, appeared Newt. He tried to pull Zack off Gally. "Zack he's already hurt, stop it"-he warned him. And when he realized he couldn't get him off, he grabbed his shovel and knocked him out.

Next, Newt grabbed Gally of the ground and pulled him up. He grabbed his face forcing him to look him in the eye.

"Gally, listen to me."

" They did this to her. That shank is responsible, I told him a million times, Newt!"-

"I know! Alright? I've seen how she's being given all this tasks and favors. Every time I asked her if I could help she insisted I didn't. We both know how tough-headed Yn can be and how she dismisses every time she starts feeling like a weight. Now I believe that she is being a teased and bullied. Even some of the other gladers had taken notice as to how the builders took the opportunity to push her to the edge."

Gally's eyes darted from Newt's who started letting go of his grip on Gally's face and looked away with his brow furrowing in thought.

"Now, I know you think they must be put in the slammer and they are!"- Newt finished the last part louder when he saw Gally about to interrupt.

"Yeah, that is until they finish fixing his hut"- Gally replied ironically.

"I know that, I told him to wait but it turns out that he is actually installing a storehouse to it for the stockpile. It's not just something for his leisure."

Th-That's not fair, Newt!"-he spat- "She's in there struggling and all Alby cares about is his stupid storehouse! Agh"- Gally groaned holding his injured shoulder.

Newt reacted concerned for his friend, after all, he had just woken up from a three-day coma.

"Listen, Gally. I think it'd be best if you go wash yourself for now and I'll get Clint to bring you some food and water, I'm sure you're more than dehydrated. I'll also tell him to give you some herbs or something for the pain."- Newt advised. However, Gally showed him his hand and uttered "Don't bother."He tried walking away but Newt reached for him.

"It's not a bother, come on, I'll walk you back. I promise I'll speak to Alby, I also don't see it fair at all that they can still be roaming about after what they did to Yn."- He said as they walked back to the Medhut.

---

A few moments passed and Gally was left alone in the Med hut as Yn slept next to him in another makeshift bed.

To Gally only an inch could be still quite far for him so, he gently pulled his bed and pushed it next to hers. He got in carefully not to hurt himself or wake her and tucked himself in not forgetting to hold her hand.

---

Just as his fingers curled around hers, he noticed the way her hand instinctively twitched, even in unconsciousness, as if it recognized the comfort of his touch. Gally stared at her bandaged head, her soft features pale against the pillow. His brows pulled together.

"You better wake up soon, sunshine," he murmured, his voice a low rasp. "Because I swear, the next shank who even looks at you wrong is getting my fist in their teeth."

He laid there quietly for a while, just listening to the sounds of her breathing. He didn't realize how much that sound mattered until it almost disappeared for good.

Gally closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. The Medhut smelled like herbs and antiseptic, but her scent—faint but familiar—still clung to the sheets. It grounded him.

A soft groan stirred the air.

His eyes snapped open. "Yn?"

Her face twitched again. She shifted her head slightly, wincing. Then, finally, her eyes fluttered open—slow and dazed, like she wasn't sure what part of the world she'd landed in.

"Hey... hey, it's me. You're safe, alright?" Gally sat up on one elbow, squeezing her hand. "You're safe."

She blinked at him, dazed. "Gally... you're awake?"

"Damn right I am. And you're gonna be too, yeah?" His smile was shaky, his voice cracking with unspoken guilt.

"I thought you would never wake up" she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I thought I was gonna die out there and you'd never even know..."

He shook his head fiercely, brushing her hair back with trembling fingers. "Don't say that. Don't you ever say that again. I know I wasn't there, and I hate myself for it. But I'm here now. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

She smiled faintly, then winced again as pain lanced through her ribs. He gently adjusted her blanket, trying not to make it worse.

Outside, the first notes of dawn began to hum across the Glade. But in that quiet, golden space between pain and healing, Gally whispered:

"You rest now. I'll keep watch. I'm your builder, remember? It's my job to keep everything standing."

[linalooneyhatter]

Collin Ritman x reader (part 2)

Warnings: Drugs, almost overdose, drinking

Summary: Collin is "hit with an epiphany" and comes to the conclusion that he should give YN more attention and care, after all it's only fair with what yn's been doing for him. After they go out dancing, Collin has to take make a phone call, Yn is left alone at the club and meets with her girl friend and leaves her drink unsupervised.

---

He drove like hell, his knuckles white on the wheel, checking on her every few seconds, one hand occasionally reaching over to squeeze hers; cold, limp, but still there.

"Stay with me, Love. Just hang on a little longer," he muttered, more to himself than to her. He glanced at her sickly discolored face, barely lit by the passing streetlights. "Almost there. You're safe now, you hear me? All this will be over soon."- he comforted and encouraged.

The hospital lights came into view and Collin practically skidded into the emergency bay. He didn't wait for anyone—he jumped out, flung open her door, and cradled her into his arms while his mind ran a thousand miles per minute.

"Help! I need help! She's been drugged- and assaulted- we need someone now!"-His voice cracked with desperation as medics rushed out with a gurney, voices overlapping, questions being thrown at him that he couldn't properly answer.

They wouldn't let him in with her for the moment. So, he watched them wheel her away, the automatic doors swinging shut behind them. And for a moment, the strength he was holding onto for Yn's sake and his stubborn tough self crumbled. He collapsed onto the nearest seat, elbows on his knees, hands dragging down his face smearing tears over his cheeks. He couldn't blame anyone but him. He couldn't control those guys's actions as for he couldn't control what people do but he could control himself and have avoided all that. Or so he thought.

Hours passed like years.

The waiting room was a blur, bright lights, vending machines humming, some random show on the TV no one was watching. Collin sat there, numb, until finally, a nurse approached.

"She's stable," she said gently, "but she's still very weak. You can see her now, if you'd like."

He was on his feet before she finished the sentence.

---

Yn laid on the hospital bed, hooked up to an IV, her face washed clean but still tired and fragile. She was changed into a hospital gown but to Collin she still looked like the most beautiful girl ever to him even when sick. Collin walked in slowly, almost afraid she'd disappear if he blinked too hard. He had almost lost her that night.

Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of the door. "Collin..."-she whispered.

He rushed to her side, grabbing her hand, kneeling beside the bed. "Hey, hey—it's me. You did it. You're here. You're with me, you're safe."

Tears welled in her eyes again. "I thought—I didn't think I'd make it until you came. I'm so sorry I didn't realize what I had done until after I took a sip from the drink I'd left unattended- I... " she stumbled upon her words.

"Shh, it's okay, besides, I'm the one that's sorry" he shut her softly, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. "I shouldn't have left you for that long, It's been ages since we went to the pub. I hadn't realized how bad things have gotten."- he reassured.

"And I swear, I'm not letting you out of my sight again. Oh, God, YN forgive me..."- he pleaded gently placing his head to her chest in defeat.

"It's okay, silly. You have nothing to apologize for."- she whispered, her voice faint but laced with warmth as her fingers weakly ran through his hair.

He let out a tearful laugh, half-choked with emotion through the tears, smiling for the first time that night, and lifted his head to look at her, eyes shimmering.

"You scared the hell out of me, you know that?" he said.

"I'll try not to next time," she murmured, her lips twitching into the tiniest smile. 

"There won't be a next time."- he firmly affirmed pointing his finger at her.

"It's over for the ghost-boyfriend you used to have. From now on, we'll be one together. I promise to never have to sleep alone or go chasing after me making sure I take care of myself like a mother, you're my girl, God damn it."-he chuckled

"So, you mean you'll stay by my side?"- she asked.

"...Forever, if I have to," he continued without hesitation, taking her hand and pressing it to his heart. "I've got you now. And I'm not letting go."

And with that, he sat down beside her, still holding her hand, and stayed through the night—watching over her like she was the most important thing in the world. Because to him, she was.

[linalooneyhatter]

Collin Ritman x reader Part 1

Collin Ritman x reader

Warnings: Drugs, almost overdose, drinking, not graphic sexual abuse (no rape)

Summary: Collin is "hit with an epiphany" and comes to the conclusion that he should give YN more attention and care, after all it's only fair with what yn's been doing for him. After they go out dancing, Collin has to take make a phone call,  Yn is left alone at the club and meets with her girl friend and leaves her drink unsupervised.

---

The next morning, Yn woke up realizing she was still in the kitchen. Her peaceful slumber was interrupted by clacking and tapping noises of kitchen supplies filled the room. Her eyes opened and adjusted to the sunlight that came in through the kitchen windows as she peeled off her face from her magazine which had been pasted to her leaving her now with the inked design on her cheek. Next, she felt the blanket that was placed around her shoulders. Looking around disoriented her eyes then met a smiling Collin who was wearing an apron and held a pan in his hand.

"Morning sweetheart"- he said dearly with a wink. 

"What are you doing?"-she asked.

"Why, dear, I'm making you breakfast. Isn't it obvious?"- He responded to which Yn still found surprising. She was usually the one who made breakfast for herself  first thing in the morning after Collin would wake up earlier or pulled an all nighter and locked himself in the studio. That's when she'd later go on to give him some tea or brunch. 

"Now go wash yourself, you seem to have fused yourself to your magazine"-he continued.

"Huh?"

"You've got ink all over your face, dear"-he chuckled.

With confusion still visible on her face she lifted with her foot her purse from the ground and took out her pocket-mirror and took a look at herself.

"Oh, shit"- she chuckled face-palming herself.

And with that he got up and went to the bathroom. She took a look at her face on the mirror, turned on the water faucet and washed her face. 

---

Once she was decent and off her Garfield shirt, she took a sit back at the now set table and began folding the blanket but was soon interrupted by Collin. "Ah-ah-ah, let me do it."-he insisted

"What's with you today, Mr. Ritman?  You've gone all Mr. Considerate?"-she said as Collin folded the blanket, threw it somewhere near the sofa and got their eggs and beans off the fire and served it to their plates.

"Yeah, well I certainly hope so, because it's just about time I show some more consideration towards you."- he said, kissed Yn's forehead and sat down.

"So, how's your programming, honey?"- asked Yn.

"No, nothing about games and programming, today's gonna be all about you."

Thus, Collin spent the whole day spoiling Yn. He had taken her to movies, shopping, to dinner, now they decided to finish the day off letting it all out at their favorite music club. 

Yn would have met her friend Mary-Kate coincidentally. They would have kicked off with some cocktails and olives to the sound of The Jim Carroll Band's "People who died".  

All of a sudden, Collin was called by the manager who happened to know him well due to him and YN frequenting the club that much that they had even befriended the ones who ran it. He had said that there was a call for him.

Yn looked at Collin giving him a look that said "It's fine, you can take it"

"Thakur! How did you know where I was?"

"Listen, I know you said you couldn't be here today but it's an emergency"

----

Collin went back to Yn and pulled her aside.

Listen, love, something happened, Thakur said it's urgent but i promise i won't take long, yeah? I promise.

"Look, It's fine. I understand. you've done so much already Collin, I appreciate it. Go and deal with them, Babe."

He then closed the gap between them giving her the biggest kiss and took off saying " I won't be long!".

"Hey Yn come on, it's your fav!"- called out Mary-Kate who had stood up and pulled her friend to the dance floor leaving the drink and all.

A little while later, YN's feet began to ache until she couldn't bare it any longer. Shit, fuck! These heels!- she hissed and cursed. She pulled her purse up to her shoulder and nudged her girlfriend's arm to catch her attention. She motioned towards their table "My feet are killing me, Imma go rest a bit"- she said to which Mary-Kate responded with a nod and kept dancing.

Yn squeezed through the crowd and got to the table. She plopped down on the seat, kicked off her heels under the table and threw her head back in relief. Next thing, she pulled out a cigarette, placed it between her lips as she took out the lighter and lit it on. She took in a deep inhale and let it out.  Then, she grabbed with her free hand the drink she would have left unattended earlier and took a sip from it. Weirdly enough to her, the drink tasted a bit saltier. That's when she realized her mistake. 

---

Quickly, she ran to the bathroom and tried pushed through the other girls who where waiting. 

"Hey, there's a line!"

"Move to the back, girl!"

However, Yn couldn't hold on any longer as the floor below her started moving and wobbling. 

"Mary-Kate! Mary!"- she tried calling her mate who was obliviously dancing with some guy she'd met.

Feeling hopeless and sicker than ever, Yn turned her head towards the exit and made a run for it stumbling along the way. 

When she had finally gotten outside, the cold wind hit her like a truck leaving her bamboozled. Snapping her out of it, an abrupt hit of a fist came in contact with her nose knocking her back. The two pairs of arms held her up and ran with her taking her to a nearby alley. They pushed a practically unconscious Yn to the wall and began forcing themselves on her. Thankfully, Yn gained a bit more strength from basically nowhere and reached for the guy's pocket knife and stabbed the one who was an inch from her face in the eye and kicked the other in the nuts. 

Despite the world spinning and the ground beneath her swaying, she managed somehow to escape. She held on to whatever she could and kept running with her whole might. Fortunately enough, she found a phone cabin. Without hesitation she ran in. Breathless, she picked the phone and began scrambling inside her purse rummaging for a quarter. She put it in the machine and waited for a response. 

"Yes? Hello? Can you put Collin on the phone, it's an emergency!"

"Yes, I know he is for fuck's sake, just put him on the phone!"

She began breaking down and with her free hand she wiped the blood from her nose as unstoppable tears made her unable to see far from a blur waiting for Collin to be on the phone. "Oh please, Collin.... please just come to the phone"- she pleaded between cries.

"Yn? Darling?"- was heard from the other line.

"Collin? Oh thank Goodness, Collin!"

"What happened, Love, are you ok?"

"No, no I'm not."-Collin tried saying something else which was cut by Yn. I've been drugged,Collin please come, i don't have much time i feel worse by the second.-she mumbled not finding the energy to continue as her mind itself blurred. 

"What?...Yn, listen, stay where you are I'm coming." 

"Please, Collin, I haven't got much time before they find me, I'm only a couple of streets down..." She hung up and walked a few steps to a corner and let herself sink to the floor.

The streets were deserted. Not a single soul at sight. Only a car would pass occasionally. And the only light source was from a couple of street lights making the place even gloomier. 

The wait seemed eternal to Yn so that the effect of the drugs had clouded even her vision. 

Her chest tugged at the thought of her being there all by herself that those guys or anyone for the matter could come and take advantage of her as she slipped away. Therefore, she fought with all her power to stay awake until Collin came to pick her up. However, Yn's consciousness danced between here and there and her senses were all muffled. So, defeated, she let the drowsiness take over and closed her eyes.

---

Yn awoke by someone shaking her shoulders and yelling her name. She finally came through and opened her eyes to meet the ones of a very distressed and worried sick Collin. 

She didn't know how much time passed since she passed out. She looked at him and he sighed in relief.

"Come on, girl"- he picked her limp self up- "It's ok ,doll, we gotta walk now. We've got to walk to the car. Look, see how we're walking, yn, see?"- Collin reassures while he carries a practically unconscious YN to his car.

Once in, he straps her on and turns on the engine. "Don't die on me, hold on... please"- he said.

"Gosh, Yn you don't know how sorry I am. I shouldn't have left you, I should have stayed with you." - he scolded himself.

[linalooneyhatter]

Just a blow to the noggin'. F.W

Fred x Ravenclaw reader.

Warnings: None, just butterflies for the Weasleys

It was quite the regular morning in Hogwarts. Yn would have just finished preparing herself for Transfiguration class when she headed for lunch while she packed her books in her cross-body bag not noticing the fellow redheaded twin in her way. You see, Fred and George were playing around with a small enchanted firework.

"Watch out for the Ravenclaw!"

“What?”

“Ow!”

“Bloody hell!”

And like that, books scrambled everywhere, Fred tore a gash in his hand and scratched his arm causing it to bleed a bit.

He grunted and turned to Yn as if he forgot he had just bumped into someone. “Blimey, are you alright? I’m terribly sorry” He says standing up and offering his hand to help her up, only now noticing it bleeding from the gash. 

“Oh, don't it’s me, I should have absolutely looked where I was going,I…-said Yn oblivious to it as she picked her things up. 

“Oh, you’re hurt!”- she exclaims, noticing it now. George helped her up and turned to his brother.

YN and the twins share some classes. She was quite fond of the twins and the Weasley’s in general. 

Yn took him aside, George following, and asked him to sit down on one of the bench rocks. Next, the twins watch her as she pulls from her bag some gauze, bandages and a small bottle of perfume. She takes a hold of Fred’s injured hand and sprays some on the gash and the scratches making him hiss and flinch trying to set free from YN’s grip, however failing due to her strong grip. She then cleans the wound brushing with some gauze. Fred couldn’t help but fancy the way Yn looked so focused on the work, ironically noticing how he had never really noticed her appearance: her big eyes shining beneath her messy curls and her bushy eyebrows, the way they lifted as she grew more focused at her now bandaging the hand.

“There”- she softly says letting go- “all done!”

Fred looks at his patched up lower arm and hand, truly admiring it.

“Why thank you, Yn!” She smiles picking up the bandages and all.

“It’s nothing, don’t mind it”

“No, really, YN. You’re an angel. This is lovely.”

“Yeah, guess you won't mind getting hurt from now on with someone like Yn to be there to patch you up after from now on, eh?”-his brother said.

Suddenly, Draco Malfoy appeared with his two mates followed by Crabbe, Goyle and some other Slytherins. 

“Well, you better shape up then because I’m afraid demented Yn here won't be able to patch you up with only her couple of bandages once we’re finished messing you both up after the Quidditch’s match later.”-said Draco followed by his comrades mocking the three behind him.

“We’ll see, Malfoy. Because unlike you, we are already careful not to get our heads too far up our own asses to see the truth.”-answered Fred making his brother laugh.

Next, they turned around and headed off but not before telling YN: 

“See you later, Sweets. Oh, and don't take Malfoy’s words to heart. He’s just jealous for not being in the winning team.”- said Fred.

“Yeah, anyone would be, knowing there’s two of the most handsome men on the team”- followed George fixing his coat proudly.

“Oh, It’s alright, I’m sure you’ll win this one too.”

“Thank you, love!”-said both of them. 

“Can you imagine two won matches in a row.”-whispered George to Fred.

“We’ll rambo it, they’ll see…”

Far now from YN, the twins were not letting Draco’s words slide.

“You know we’ll have to get him for Yn, right, Georgie?”

“I've already been concocting something…” And with that, they left the courtyard.

A/N: Do you guys think this deserves a Pt. 2? Tell me what you think, no filter. Luv u ❤❤