#she had chocolate kisses in her room and i was like can i have a kiss

[periprose]

Can I have a Logan Howlett x Angel!Fem!Reader where Logan sees the reader in the kitchen having a bit of a meltdown and uncomfortable feeling over holding a knife (for like, cooking reasons or smth) and he calms her down because the reader just doesn’t want to hurt anyone :(? I’d appreciate it thanks! (I’ve seen you wanted more Angel reader, so im here to reciprocate :3)

AHhhh this fits so well Anon (maybe unintentionally so, the previous fic had a little snippet about Angel's mom trying to stab her when she was young...) but I love your brain. I made it a bit longer and added some stuff and it's set before the previous Logan Gains a Guardian Angel fic (LGGA for short) so they're not together yet.

Knives Drip Chocolate (or, Logan Gains a Guardian Angel)

Word Count: 2.9k

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt with comfort, mutual pining, idiots in love, mild traumatic flashback stuff (but no violence)

LGGA Masterlist

Logan is always ready for a late-night snack.

It’s hard for him to feel full, a lot of the time– he didn’t always have the easiest access to food, and he’s known for a while, if there’s a brief period in his immortal-like life where he can just relax about food and supplies, he shouldn’t take that for granted. 

Plus with an accelerated healing factor, sometimes his body starts digesting food too quickly, leading to faster body repair, but nothing to feel satisfied about.

So he’s got tons of cravings. Something that you are constantly bothered about, even now, as Logan knocks on your door, asking yet again if you’d accompany him to the kitchen.

Not that you actually mind. Sometimes you think you’d follow Logan into hell if he asked nicely enough, despite your occasionally evasive attitude keeping him on his toes.

“Angel, please. I’m starving.” Logan’s grumpy complaints are muffled behind your door, and you wonder why a nearly 200 year old man needs you so badly, to be by his side, when he’s spent so long being a loner.

“I’m coming.” You yawn, pulling yourself out of your bed– Storm is your roommate, and she’s passed out, stone cold. You quickly finger comb your hair, and fix your giant t-shirt, so your shoulder isn’t so exposed.

Silly, because you know Logan doesn’t care.

It’s bad. It’s really, really bad, because you don’t want to get attached to Logan, not when he’s sure to toss you aside like he’s done with the rest of them eventually. But you can’t help yourself– Logan is easy to be around, he knows your fears and little quirks, and he has never treated you like you’re so different for being a little quiet, like him. 

You know everyone has noticed. When you open your bedroom door, and Logan stares at you for a moment– an unreadable, soft glance in his eyes, one that you could choose to ignore, but don’t, as you stare back at him– you know all the other X-Men see it. Some silly crush you have on him, that clearly confuses Logan himself as he shakes his head, and pulls you by the arm out of your room, your PJs and hair askew.

Logan himself looks good, you have to admit– wearing lazy sweatpants and a white tank-top, his arm muscles looking especially defined tonight– and you pull your arm away, embarrassed that you give into these feelings so easily.

He’s only ever going to be your best friend. Even now, there’s nothing romantic about the way Logan asks if you want a ham and cheddar sandwich, too. He’s just looking out for you. 

Jean, Scott, and Storm have literally asked you, more than once, if you and Logan had maybe slept together, or kissed, or anything that would be a culmination of some supposed lust, in which case you always laugh awkwardly and deny everything. 

Your excuse is that it’s deeper than that, and it’s one-sided. What would be the point of bringing it up if it would just end in heartbreak?

“Earth to Angel.” Logan shakes your arm, breaking your stride. “Hey, that’s kind of funny, isn’t it? You’re always up in Heaven. Daydreaming about who the hell knows what.”

“Haha, Logan.” You mockingly say in a deadpan voice. “What is it?”

“Your wings are flexing a little bit, again, like they’re about to open. They’re kind of pulsing.” He says it in a soft tone, ushering in some concern he has, and you find yourself wishing that you were someone normal, someone that Logan didn’t have to care so much about. 

It’s not that you’re not happy to have his concern, it’s just that you don’t know what to do with it. Thank him for it? You have never been used to people looking out for you.

“It’s fine. Sometimes I get muscle spasms, it’s nothing to worry about.” You mutter, knowing it has to do with anxiety, but Logan looks a bit unconvinced.

“Okay. But if you keep having weird tremors, I’m taking you to the hospital wing so you can get diagnosed.” Logan states, and you open your mouth to argue, but he tuts. “No arguing about this. Last thing we need is for you to die from stress or cancer or something.”

Your heartbeat quickens, not at the mention of cancer, but because Logan used we and now you’re just thinking about how you’re always together.

Not like that, though.

“Okay, Logan. I get it.” You shake your head. “I won’t die.” 

“Not yet. We got snacks to eat.” Logan agrees, as he leads you into the kitchen.

/

Logan’s got you working on making hot chocolate as he makes the sandwiches, pan-frying them till the cheese is hot and melty. 

It’s not really a common mix, you think, but you’re just happy to be helping.

“Careful. Milk boils over fast.” Logan comments from next to you, mostly focused on his own side of the stove, and you roll your eyes.

“I know that.” You retort, but as you look away from the stove for one second, the pot of milk nearly does boil over, and you swear, reducing the heat quickly.

Logan starts laughing. “Told you.”

You shove him lightly, and he has a stupid grin on his face, one where you know Logan takes such joy in teasing you at times. Like this is one of the greatest pleasures in life.

You move the milk over to the counter, to let it cool, and then remember something semi-important. 

“Logan? Don’t forget, Scott wanted extra ham for the Hawaiian pizza they’re making tomorrow–” As you’re reminding him, Logan wordlessly shows you the empty ham package, telling you that he used all of it for the sandwiches.

“You snooze, you lose.” Logan shrugs, and you close your eyes in partial defeat, trying not to laugh at his antics.

“I guess, but you never seem to lose, and Scott’s always chewing me out for your ‘mistakes.’” You point at yourself, tongue poking through the side of your mouth, and Logan raises his eyebrows. “Tell me: Am I snoozing, or are you just lucky that I take the blame?”

“Ah, Angel… you’re obviously asleep.” Logan smirks, and you scoff at his audacity, having expected a semi-apology from him. “No one ever said you had to take the blame for my snacks. You could’ve just told him it was Jean, and he wouldn’t have asked any questions.”

You blink at him. “Lying to our team’s leader aside, why Jean?”

“C’mon. Scott’s crazy over her, they’ve been together for however long, and he can never say no to her. It’s the perfect excuse– he wouldn’t even ask her about missing food, so not to offend his sweetheart.” Logan pauses, a thoughtful look taking over his features, and he scratches his chin. “I guess love really is blind.”

“Wow. You had that takeaway based on gaslighting both Scott and Jean? You really are an unfeeling old man.” You giggle, and Logan glances over at you, his face heating up at your laugh, a sweet sound that always pushes a warmth into his chest.

If Logan was honest, he understands Scott perfectly. Sure, he could play the part of the curmudgeonly old man, and lie to you– but in truth, he was doing that because he likes you.

Just like Scott. Logan likes you so much, that he would honestly lie to you just to protect your relationship– whether that be about missing food, or if you talk about some other dude someday, and he has to pretend he’s all ecstatic for you, as he often worries about. 

He knows it’s bad. And he doesn’t like it, either. Logan insists to himself, in pure self denial, that this love he has for you doesn’t exist, because he would rather be given even a little bit of your presence as a friend, than to be entirely shut out by you upon imminent rejection.

But even he knows he protests too much. Of course he loves you, how could he not?

Logan thinks of you as his personal guardian Angel. It’s silly, of course– but you’re the one who helps him make better choices, doing the right thing more often than not. He’s an idiot– you’re a beautiful genius of a woman, and it bothers him so deeply that you keep to yourself.

He looks over at you. You’re chopping up a bar of dark chocolate, and your gaze is intensely focused– Logan has seen the same expression on you when you’re beating up a bad guy. You’re thinking, murmuring something to yourself, probably thinking about hot chocolate.

Your eyes turn wide, glassy, and you inhale sharply.

Logan immediately comes to your side. “Angel?”

Logan’s voice doesn’t fully register to you.

The knife gleams in the low lighting of the kitchen, as you turn it over and over in your hand, dark brown chocolate smudging the blade, and then you look down to your palms.

Where your hands are covered in dark, melted chocolate, after you’ve been holding the chocolate bar to chop it up– the liquid is almost amber in hue. 

“...blood.” You whisper something unintelligible, but Logan catches the last word.

You retch to yourself, hyperventilating over the counter, back hunched over, the knife still clenched in your palm.

“Angel, hey–” Logan squeezes his way between the counter and your right arm, where your hand is holding the knife, and he firmly pulls it away from you, grabbing it blade-first without even thinking about it, and you gasp, shouting at him to get away.

Logan stops, at a loss for words. You’re trembling, you’re no longer holding the knife, but you can’t stop looking at your hands.

He grabs your arms a bit more gently, turning you towards him, and you’re lost in some train of thought that Logan can’t stop.

Mom sliced up one of my hands once… it’s been years, but it looked just like this.

Then I got her back, by accident… it was an accident, Angel.

“What’s wrong?” Logan looks down at you in fear, worry that something may actually be very wrong, and you haven’t told him a thing.

He thinks he shouldn’t have assumed you were always alright. He knows you aren’t– he just finds it difficult to surpass your avoidant attitude. He’s never seen you have a full blown panic attack like this before.

Your wings are subtly twitching again, folded against your back, but threatening to open up to full expanse, and you shake your head, lip quivering, as you look down at the floor.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” You utter so softly, so heartbreakingly tiny, and Logan feels himself turning cold at your words, wondering if you’d really done something that terrible.

With a kitchen knife, of all things. He wants to hug you firmly now.

He knows even if it was true– there’s no way that was your fault, no way Logan wouldn’t have sussed that out based on instinct. 

“It isn’t…” Logan starts, wanting to say it wasn’t your fault, but he doesn’t know how that will go over with you. “You’re not going to hurt anyone. Where is that coming from?”

“Just a bad memory.” You say with a shaky breath, the most information you’re willing to give him at this moment, and you know– you know– Logan is never going to be satisfied with that answer.

You don’t want to scare him off. This is the first time you could even say you have a best friend, and you don’t want Logan to pity you or feel like you were incapable of taking care of yourself. You don’t want him to see you like your mother did.

Logan frowns. Then, instead of asking you a question, he traces the back of your wings, which causes a shiver in your body.

You close your eyes, expecting to feel tense, scared, and horrified, but instead you feel calm, almost placid. Being touched by Logan makes you feel like everything is going to be alright.

Your wings stop shaking, and Logan hands you a wet paper towel. You wipe your chocolatey hands, which puts you at ease, seeing your clean hands again. 

“Sorry. I don’t mean to make you my caretaker.” You whisper, always worried about others’ perception of you, and Logan shakes his head.

“I don’t mind, Angel. As long as you’re alright.” Logan has a tentative look on his face, and you’re almost embarrassed, that you like being taken care of so badly, and he hugs you tightly, arms wrapped around your back, a near bone crushing hug that has you nestled in his chest, fit under his jaw as he places his head on top of yours.

Your heartbeat slows down. You’re not panicking any more, but it seems like Logan, too, is reaping some sort of benefit by being so close to you. He inhales deeply, and the sigh rumbles through his chest into you.

You could almost cry. You spent so much of your childhood never being close to anyone, and being held is cathartic in a way you can’t even describe.

Logan doesn’t let go until you do. Then he has the audacity to look a little sheepish, like he had done something un-Logan and uncool, and you almost feel pained, like you should push him away, and go to sleep on your own.

It’s such an odd feeling, to both want his concern, and to wish you never needed to do so.

You stare up at him, and Logan smiles, a soft smile that he hopes reads as comforting rather than a snarl, and you can’t help yourself for what you ask next.

“Could I sleep in your room?” You ask, biting back the immediate disclaimers of it’s okay if you don’t want to. “I’m just better when I’m around you.”

There’s also the thing of waking up Storm if you enter back in now, and explaining that you had yet another panic attack. She’ll be mad.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay.” Logan murmurs, wondering if you meant to make that sound so devotedly sweet, something that causes his insides to seize a little.

He feels better around you, too.

You’re usually good at hiding this side of yourself from him– it’s another step deeper, another step too far into your relationship to take back– and now you worry you’ll never really be able to separate.

Logan ruffles your hair, and all is right again.

/

He makes you eat at least a bite of the sandwich, and sip a little hot chocolate– the rest is placed in the fridge for some other mutant to eat.

Logan won’t let you go to sleep without a meal, or in this case a few nibbles, if he can help it.

“Moods are worse on an empty stomach.” Logan grins, and you smile, feeling a little more at ease.

“You’re not you when you’re hungry.” You joke, and Logan rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, save that for when we’re pilfering Kurt’s Snickers bars.” He snorts. 

Logan leads you to his room, oddly silent the entire time. It’s not that Logan isn’t typically quiet, it’s that it feels more tense. He’s keeping to himself, and he doesn’t seem to have anything against you– he has only a kind expression for you, when you meet his eyes.

Finally, you both arrive to his bedroom door. Logan is lucky– he doesn’t have to room with anyone– and you’ve been in here plenty of times.

Still, that doesn’t explain why it takes him a second to enter in the room, as you follow him in.

It’s sparsely decorated in here– one poster of the Calgary Flames is on Logan’s wall, and there’s a mug with random, assorted pens on his desk. His bed has never been filled with loads of stuffed animals and pillows like other X-Men (read: Jubilee) would have. There’s a pile of assorted flannels, jackets, and scarves hanging off a coat rack.

It’s comforting, though. Logan is a simple man, and you like being close enough to understand him, to see the small remnants of things he likes.

“Well. The bed’s there, if you’d like. Don’t let me stop you.” Logan points to the bed, and he starts walking towards the leather recliner next to the window.

“Logan. Stop.” You grab him by the arm, and he pauses, slightly scared, mostly enthused by what you’ll say next. “It’s okay with me if we sleep next to each other.”

“...Okay.” Logan watches as you climb into his bed, hoping it’s comfortable, and doing a weird thing of personally memorizing the way you lay and snuggle down, in case you never do this again.

You’re next to the wall, so Logan stays on his side, lying down close to the edge of the bed. And you’re keeping your distance– so is he.

You turn, and Logan is already looking at you. He glances away.

“Good night, Angel.” Logan utters softly, and with that, you turn to your side, to fall asleep.

/

When Logan wakes up, he freezes, so not to move you. Somehow, through out the night, you ended up snuggled around him, sprawled against his chest, your arms lightly wrapping around him.

He loves it. He’s glad to see he’s been useful for once– he gave you a good night’s sleep.

[writingsbychlo]

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE | mattheo riddle

summary; mattheo is your slightly toxic, slightly unhinged, but absolutely adoring and completely obsessed boyfriend.

word count; 7077

notes; literally the moment I started watching the PPP music video I was like 'oh it's so matty coded' and this came to mind immediately. I didn't intend for it to get so long, it was supposed to be a short drabble. whoops.

The first time you met Mattheo Riddle, you were just walking out of detention as he was walking in. 

Well, being dragged in by Madam Hooch, more like. He had blood on his face, and his knuckles, and he was smirking to himself as a sorry-looking Cormac trailed them inside. His eyes met yours, he’d winked, and you’d both continued to watch one another over your shoulders as you crossed paths, until the door shut. 

You were his, from that very first moment. 

The following days brought stolen glances across the classrooms and the Great Hall, his arrogant smirks and your shy smiles, and the look on his face that made you blush. You had to see him again, and opportunity presented itself that same Thursday, in Potions class, as Mattheo argued with Snape over… something. 

You’d tuned out, preferring to sit and watch him. He was just so pretty when he was mad. 

“That will be detention, Mr Riddle.” Snape drawled in that monotonous tone of his, and Mattheo glared across the classroom at the professor, who looked like he couldn't have cared less if he tried. “Unless anybody else has any objections, we can return to—”

Your book hit the ground with a resounding thud. The sound of it echoed around the room, and all eyes turned to you. You weren’t sure what exactly had brought it on, and your friends stared at you, horrified about the disruption. An excuse sat on the tip of your tongue, but then your eyes met those enchanting honey-brown ones, and he was smirking at you once again, a single brow raised. 

“Motherfucker.” You squeaked out, and after a pause that felt like it lasted an eternity, your professor sighed. 

“Very well. Detention for you, too.”

Your jaw dropped, heat flushed your face, and Mattheo’s smirk stretched into a smile. Another wink, and you were a goner. 

That same evening in detention, you’d been punctual and prompt, and he had sauntered in fifteen minutes late, sliding into the chair right beside you. Whispered conversations became jokes and confessions, inching closer and closer together, until you could count every little freckle that danced across his nose, and taste the nicotine and mint still on his breath when he spoke. His eyes held you captive, the stories he told had you on the edge of your seat, and the way his hand slid up your thigh had you burning. 

Your first kiss was a month later, when he’d made you promise not to get any more detentions just to see him. Instead, you’d waited outside the classroom, and the moment he’d been out, he’d given you that same flirty grin. Pressed up into the stone wall behind you, with one of his hands beside your head as the other sat on your waist, his tongue had slipped into your mouth. He’d tasted like chocolate and cigarettes, and you’d been intoxicated. 

And when he pulled back, his softest smile yet on his face as his hand had taken your own, you’d known that he was yours, too.

“What do you mean you’re going out with Mattheo Riddle?” Your friend hissed, her eyes wide as the two of you huddled close together, ducking along the corridors as you hurried to your next class. 

“Well, I mean that he asked me out on a date, and I said yes, so—”

“Don’t be sassy with me!” She scoffed, and you smiled, shrugging. She really had left herself wide open for that, it wasn’t your fault you took the chance she presented. “He’s bad news.”

“Oh, come on. What does that even mean?”

“It means that he’s bad for you. He’s bad for everyone!” Finally reaching the classroom —early, as always— the two of you settled in at your desk, unpacking your books, and still whispering despite the empty classroom you found yourselves in. Not even the professor had arrived yet. “He’s always getting in fights, and he’s always in trouble or detention, and— hey! I bet he’s the reason you’ve been getting a string of detentions lately, huh?”

You had no rebuff to that, heat coating your cheeks but you couldn't hide the smile that grew on your face at the mere thought of all your detention time spent together. “He told me not to do that anymore, that’s why he asked for a date! See? He’s good for me.”

“Oh, gee, what a saint he is.” She muttered, eyes rolling so hard you thought they’d fall out. All humour slowly dissipated between you both, and she frowned and opened her notebook, dipping a quill in fresh ink. As the seconds ticked by, tension grew between you both that you didn’t like. 

“Look, I know what people say about him, and the reputation he has, but he’s not like that with me. He’s not been like that with me.” Your hand lifted, scratching your cheek subconsciously. “It’s… not our first date. It’s just the first one I’ve told you about, because I knew you’d react like this. But, if you knew him like I did, you’d understand…”

Your voice trailed off, dreamy with a sigh and she turned to look at you. One of her brows raised as she put down her quill delicately. A beat passed, and her shoulders sagged, a little of the tension slipping free. “He really makes you happy? Because… I’m just worried about you, y’know?”

“I know, and I love you for that. But I just need you to be happy for me right now.”

“He’s going to break your heart. He’s going to make you cry, and hate the world, and I don’t like that.” 

Your hand slipped to hers, taking it in yours and squeezing. Flicking through your mind was the confidence brought on by every sweet word he whispered in your ear. All the soft kisses and touches. They didn’t know the kindness, and the devotion, and the loyalty. 

How could they, when they never gave him a chance? But his friends did, they saw the same side of him that you did. The version of him that would defend their name, and stop at nothing to make them happy. The version of him that didn’t believe the lies and the rumours, and never even looked at any other girls. 

They didn’t know how funny he was, how secretly cuddly he was, or how he just craved a little attention. They didn’t see him on the nights he’d sneak into your dorm just to crawl into bed and hold you, or the flowers he’d drop off outside your door. They didn’t see the love-hearts written on the corners of his notes in class or the way he got grumpy if he went too long without affection. 

You had good taste. You knew you did. It was just a shame nobody else saw it.

 “He won’t, I know he won’t.”

“I hope for your sake he proves me wrong.”

Mattheo was nothing if not a sweet-talker. He’d spent the morning covering you with kisses, and whispering into your ear about the date he would take you on tonight. By the end of the day, you’d been kissed on every inch of your face, and the husky tone of his voice was still ringing in your ears as he bid you goodbye, and promised to pick you up in a few hours. 

He’d been right on time, too. Knocking at your door at seven on the dot with flowers in hand and a whole new batch of compliments rolling off of his tongue. Gods, did Mattheo love to make you blush. Everything from looking you up and down seductively, to telling you that you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, he did it all. 

He kissed you like you were the only woman in the world, like he wanted you to feel his love and devotion as much as he spoke the words, and you melted into him every time. Whether it was a brush of his lips over your own, or his hands grasping at your body, pulling you so close you nearly fused as his mouth claimed yours, he did all of it so passionately. 

Now, he was kissing your knuckles, guiding you toward one of the more expensive restaurants in Hogsmeade, one you’d never been to before, and grinning at your expression. 

“Matty, this place isn’t cheap!”

“Nothing will be good enough for my girl, but certainly nothing cheap. For now, this is the best I can give to you.” Tugging you in close, the two of you stood outside of the beautifully decorated little building, and he nudged his nose against yours. “One day, I’ll take you all around the world, to eat the best food with the best views.”

“Oh…” Your hands settled on his face, thumbs rubbing across his cheeks as he smiled, and you pressed a kiss on his lips in gratitude as words seemed to escape you entirely. “I love you.”

“I love you more, pretty girl.” His arms were tight around your waist, not quite ready to go yet, and his lips parted like there was something more he had to say. “Listen, when we get in there, I just have to speak to one of the workers real quick, okay?”

“Okay.” It didn’t seem all that concerning to you, and with a final kiss to your lips, he was holding open the restaurant door for you. His hand was warm in your own as he led you through the building. But then he was guiding you right past the hostess station, and you glanced back to it, but his feet never stopped moving, and you hurried to keep up with him. 

Past tables and other workers, your jaw dropped with a soft gasp as he let himself into the back of the restaurant.

“Matty, I don’t think we’re allowed back here…”

“Don’t worry about it, baby.” Mattheo smiled, leaving another kiss on your cheek as he let go of your hand. “Wait here for me, ‘kay? I just need to speak to one of the chefs.”

With that, he was disappearing into the kitchens, and you leaned back against the wall, staring at the clock opposite you. Seconds ticked past, turning into minutes, ten of them, to be precise, before the shouting started. Mattheo was yelling, you’d know his voice anywhere, and when you poked your head around the doorframe and into the kitchen, it was to find him holding a vaguely familiar-looking chef by the collar, and slamming him into a wall. 

“Mattheo!”

Your voice fell on deaf ears, as the two began to push. Mattheo’s back hit the counter behind him, a sickening smack and a grunt of pain, before the two were throwing fists. Every crunch of bones on skin and every rattling sound of a body hitting the workstations and countertops made your stomach turn. You covered your ears, turning your back on it all and shaking your head. 

You didn’t need to see that. 

Eventually, the other chefs stepped in, dragging Mattheo out of the backdoor. When it was all over, you apologised profusely as you hurried through the kitchen to follow after him, hopping over the boy he’d beaten half-senseless who was groaning on the floor. 

Stepping out through the backdoor, Mattheo was pacing, spitting a bloody mouthful out onto the floor, and his head snapped up in your direction. Only when he realised who it was did his gaze soften, and he wiped his palm across the back of his mouth. 

A few seconds of silence passed as the shock settled and you checked he was okay, and when he reached for you, you turned from him. Storming away down the alley, you heard his frustrated groan behind you, the sound of him kicking a trash can, before he was hurrying after you. 

“Okay, I know that wasn’t how the evening was supposed to go—”

“Oh, it wasn’t?” Your laugh was so dry it almost made your chest hurt, and you didn't even bother to look back at him as you began to walk back through Hogsmeade.

“I fucked up, I know—”

“Understatement of the century.” You muttered, ignoring his attempts at excuses and explanations as you wove through the streets. People offered you both funny looks, no doubt because of the blood running from his nose as he tried to stop it, the pair of you mid-argument. 

When you reached the edges of the town, Mattheo fell into step beside you, his hand skimming down your back, burning into you through the thin fabric of your dress. A dress that had been a damn waste to put on.

“Don’t touch me.” You hissed, slapping his hand away from your lower back, and he whined.

“Oh, come on, baby. I’m sorry.”

“You’re not sorry! You planned this, and told me we were going on a date!” Your arms crossed over your chest as you stomped back out of the small village, beginning the walk back towards the school. “You lied to me!”

“Woah, now! Hey! I never lied! I fully intended to—” He huffed as you continued to walk ahead of him, all but speeding in your heels until you wobbled, and he cursed under his breath, catching you to steady you. Spinning you around, he tipped your chin up with one finger. “Listen, pretty girl. I never meant for all this to happen, okay? I meant it when I said I’d made us a reservation. I just figured I’d go and get my money from this guy, maybe even let him off a few galleons so he’d give us better service, and then we’d have a nice date. I didn’t expect him to start a fight!”

“He didn’t start the fight, you did!” You poked a finger into his chest, and he winced. Obviously, you’d found a bruise by mistake. Smoothing your palm over it in way of a silent apology, his hand cupped yours, holding it over his heart. “You said ‘Let’s take this outside’.”

“Okay, well, I was calling his bluff. I didn’t expect him to actually take me up on it!”

Your jaw tightened, and your lip wobbled. You felt ridiculous, you’d gotten all dressed up, and you were hungry, and he’d let you down. At your expression, his own face crumpled, and he sighed sadly as he cupped your cheeks. 

“Please, baby, don’t cry because of me. You look so pretty, you did your makeup so nice, I don’t want you to cry because of me. Let’s just go back and find somewhere else to eat, yeah?”

“I don’t want to, and we can’t! You’re dirty and bleeding, and you’ve got a black eye coming on. We can’t go anywhere.” You muttered, crossing your arms. He leaned in, kissing the corner of your mouth.

“I’m sorry. I love you, more than anything. I really didn’t mean for it to go like this. I won’t let it happen again.”

“Promise me.” You huffed, gaze finally returning to his, and he nodded emphatically. “No more acting stupid in front of me.”

“I promise, sweet girl. I’ll never mix business with pleasure again, okay? When I’m with you, it’s all you.”

Just like that, he had your walls crumbling. How could you stay mad at him, when he smiled so sweetly, and made you feel so special? You gave in, one hand lifting to his cheek, touching gently at the swollen skin around the cut on his face. He hissed and pulled back, and your frown only deepened. “C’mon, you can come to my dorm, I’ll clean you up.”

“You’re gonna’ clean me up?” His smile was like that of a puppy, taking your hand happily and guiding you back along the path. “I tell you what, I’ll force Nott to sneak into the kitchens and make us some pasta, in exchange for the room to himself tonight, how’s that?”

“And where will you be sleeping?” You smirked, and he matched it, shrugging. 

“I don’t know. Maybe the cold, stone floor in front of the common room fireplace.” Your eyes rolled, and he dipped his head, leaving a kiss on your neck. “Or maybe, my loving girlfriend will let me stay over, and I’ll make it worth her while…”

“I don’t want to look at your battered face.”

“Put a pillow over my head and get on top, then.” He snickered, and your jaw dropped.

“Matty!”

You brushed your fingers through Mattheo’s curls, and a sleepy rumble emanated from him. He nuzzled in a little closer. The tip of his nose rubbed your sternum and his arms tightened around you. He pressed a lazy kiss to your skin through your tee, melting into you further with the sigh he let go. 

You’d spent all day dozing on and off together, lounging in bed, and watching movies. You’d dragged yourself up at some point to grab a book, an attempt to be productive, but Mattheo had quickly put an end to that as he dragged you back into the sheets. Now, the evening was rolling around, the sun was setting, and the stagnation of the day was beginning to become bothersome. 

With another huffed-out sigh, Mattheo lifted his head, a frown on his lips as your hand slipped down to his cheek. He was sleep rumpled, a crease across his cheek from where he’d been lying on you, and you rubbed it soothingly. 

“I could do with some fresh air,” He eventually mumbled, twisting his head to kiss the palm of your hand. “Let’s go for a walk or something.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. Lately, he’d been getting into all sorts of arguments and fights. Never with you, no, your little disagreements ended with him conceding and kissing you senseless. But, he’d been drawing a lot of extra attention to himself lately, and it wasn’t all that positive. You weren’t so keen to have another date ruined by his fighting or being dragged off to detention. 

“Maybe the courtyard?”

“We could stay here?” You suggested, and he pursed his lips, shaking his head. 

“No, I want to go out. You don’t have to come, baby. I’ll just go for a smoke break, I’m sure Theo is knocking around here somewhere.” With that, he hauled himself up from the bed, and you watched him go. Stretching out muscles that hadn't been utilised all day, you bit your lip, tangled up in the sheets still as you watched him fetch a fresh t-shirt and tug it on, before searching for a pair of jeans. 

You couldn't very well let him go alone, if he did, he’d smoke, and you hated that. But if you did go with him, you’d spend the whole time trying to stop him from riling up the Gryffindors he seemed to be having so many problems with recently. 

He found a pair, tugging them up his legs and buttoning them at his waist. He was determined to go then, and you rolled over to prop your head up on your arm. 

“I really can’t convince you to stay?” You teased, sneaking a bare leg out from under the covers that led all the way up, and giving him a flash of what else lay underneath. Rolling onto your stomach and letting the sheets fall, his eyes fell straight to the skimpy little bit of lace you’d donned earlier, barely classifying as underwear at all. 

He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m gonna’ need a few more hours before I can go again, pretty girl. No matter how much you tease me with that little thong of yours.”

It was futile, once his mind was set, it was done. “Alright, fine.” You murmured, lips puckering as he leaned over the bed to give you a quick kiss. “I’ll come with you.”

“You will?” His face lit up, and guilt instantly flooded you. 

It wasn’t necessarily his fault. It was just a part of his culture. He’d been raised on impulsivity and violence and arguments. You knew all about his home life, his childhood and his upbringing. He’d had a rough time of it, the grizzly truth unveiled to you between late-night kisses and midnights at the tower as he smoked. You were surprised he even possessed the limited emotional functions he did, unlike his brother. You were supposed to guide him, to help him see better, to love him right and show him the purity of it. 

He tugged on your hands, an excited smile on his face as he helped you out of the sheets. He found your denim skirt on the floor, holding it out for you and letting you balance on his shoulders as you wobbled into it. 

“How about the forest, instead?”

At least there would be fewer people there. He nodded his head, swiping a kiss to your cheek as he mumbled a spell to set the bed off on making itself. “Whatever you want, baby.”

It would surely end badly, something or someone would send him into a spiral. But, until that happened, you wanted to soak up every second of that smile on his face, that you put there so easily. How anyone could think he was bad, when he smiled so sweetly, was beyond you. 

You brushed your fingers through Mattheo’s curls, and a sleepy rumble emanated from him. He nuzzled in a little closer. The tip of his nose rubbed your sternum and his arms tightened around you. He pressed a lazy kiss to your skin through your tee, melting into you further with the sigh he let go. 

You’d spent all day dozing on and off together, lounging in bed, and watching movies. You’d dragged yourself up at some point to grab a book, an attempt to be productive, but Mattheo had quickly put an end to that as he dragged you back into the sheets. Now, the evening was rolling around, the sun was setting, and the stagnation of the day was beginning to become bothersome. 

With another huffed-out sigh, Mattheo lifted his head, a frown on his lips as your hand slipped down to his cheek. He was sleep rumpled, a crease across his cheek from where he’d been lying on you, and you rubbed it soothingly. 

“I could do with some fresh air,” He eventually mumbled, twisting his head to kiss the palm of your hand. “Let’s go for a walk or something.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. Lately, he’d been getting into all sorts of arguments and fights. Never with you, no, your little disagreements ended with him conceding and kissing you senseless. But, he’d been drawing a lot of extra attention to himself lately, and it wasn’t all that positive. You weren’t so keen to have another date ruined by his fighting or being dragged off to detention. 

“Maybe the courtyard?”

“We could stay here?” You suggested, and he pursed his lips, shaking his head. 

“No, I want to go out. You don’t have to come, baby. I’ll just go for a smoke break, I’m sure Theo is knocking around here somewhere.” With that, he hauled himself up from the bed, and you watched him go. Stretching out muscles that hadn't been utilised all day, you bit your lip, tangled up in the sheets still as you watched him fetch a fresh t-shirt and tug it on, before searching for a pair of jeans. 

You couldn't very well let him go alone, if he did, he’d smoke, and you hated that. But if you did go with him, you’d spend the whole time trying to stop him from riling up the Gryffindors he seemed to be having so many problems with recently. 

He found a pair, tugging them up his legs and buttoning them at his waist. He was determined to go then, and you rolled over to prop your head up on your arm. 

“I really can’t convince you to stay?” You teased, sneaking a bare leg out from under the covers that led all the way up, and giving him a flash of what else lay underneath. Rolling onto your stomach and letting the sheets fall, his eyes fell straight to the skimpy little bit of lace you’d donned earlier, barely classifying as underwear at all. 

He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m gonna’ need a few more hours before I can go again, pretty girl. No matter how much you tease me with that little thong of yours.”

It was futile, once his mind was set, it was done. “Alright, fine.” You murmured, lips puckering as he leaned over the bed to give you a quick kiss. “I’ll come with you.”

“You will?” His face lit up, and guilt instantly flooded you. 

It wasn’t necessarily his fault. It was just a part of his culture. He’d been raised on impulsivity and violence and arguments. You knew all about his home life, his childhood and his upbringing. He’d had a rough time of it, the grizzly truth unveiled to you between late-night kisses and midnights at the tower as he smoked. You were surprised he even possessed the limited emotional functions he did, unlike his brother. You were supposed to guide him, to help him see better, to love him right and show him the purity of it. 

He tugged on your hands, an excited smile on his face as he helped you out of the sheets. He found your denim skirt on the floor, holding it out for you and letting you balance on his shoulders as you wobbled into it. 

“How about the Lake, instead?”

At least there would be fewer people there. He nodded his head, swiping a kiss to your cheek as he mumbled a spell to set the bed off on making itself. “Whatever you want, baby.”

It would surely end badly, something or someone would send him into a spiral. But, until that happened, you wanted to soak up every second of that smile on his face, that you put there so easily. How anyone could think he was bad, when he smiled so sweetly, was beyond you.“Baby, wake up.” The words were mumbled tenderly into your ear, and you groaned a little at the hand gently shaking your shoulder. “Come on, pretty girl, open those eyes.”

“What, Matty? It’s the middle of the night.”

“I know, that’s why it’s the perfect time!” Excitement tinged his voice, and as you forced your eyelids open, you found him standing at the edge of your bed, wand lit up dimly, and your coat in his hand. “Get up, baby. We’re going for a walk.”

“Now?”

“Yes. You don’t think the stars and the moon are romantic? Isn’t there just something… better about the night?”

Your smile was against your will, sitting up slowly and swinging your feet out of the bed, suppressing a yawn. “You’re lucky I wore full pyjamas to bed tonight.”

“You mean I could’ve walked in here to find you naked?” He clasped a hand over his heart, letting out a pained groan. He handed you his wand to hold, before dropping to his knees before you. 

“No, you perv! I meant that I’m wearing full-leg pyjamas, not my shorts!”

He only snickered to himself, while navigating your trainers onto your feet and tying the laces up for you. Once they were secure, he took his wand back, sliding it into his back pocket and clasping your hands in his own. With a kiss on your lips, he wrapped the warm coat over your shoulders. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, Matty.”

He grinned at that, taking your hand, and leading you through the silent halls. Twigs snapped under your feet as you crossed the courtyard together, giggling and shushing each other, and you had to admit that he was right. Both the adrenaline of it all, and the beauty of the scenery, made for the perfect blend of excitement and romance. 

As you cleared the school building and began to make your way out across the fields, Mattheo’s arm looped around your waist, supporting you through every dip and hole in the grass, never letting you so much as stumble. 

“Nearly there.” He whispered into the cold night air as you approached the quidditch grounds, the different house flags blowing gently in the summer breeze. 

“Nearly where? I thought we were just going for a walk.”

He didn’t reply, and only a couple of steps later, the barely concealed voices of several of his friends carried across the pitch towards you both. “Mattheo Riddle, I swear to Merlin, if you’ve brought me along on one of your ridiculous schemes—” You shrieked, cutting yourself off as one of the Weasley’s firecrackers shot past your head, between the two of you, and Theodore’s laughter echoed out, following it. 

“Oi, Nott, watch it. If that’d hit my girl, the next thing to be hit would be your face on the fuckin’ concrete.”

“Relax, she ducked! No harm, no foul. Right, principessa?” Theo smirked, seeming to appear from the shadows as he sparked his lighter, and brought the flame to the end of his cigarette. Lorenzo was there too, a bag over one shoulder that rattled suspiciously as he came towards the three of you, and your arms crossed protectively over your body. 

“Matty, what is this?”

“Don’t flirt with my girl in Italian.” Mattheo glared at his friend, but it soon melted away as he was handed the cigarette, and Theo tucked his hands into his pockets, appraising you. 

“This, bella, is revenge.”

“What did I just say about the Italian—?”

“Why do you need revenge?” Your words crossed Mattheo’s who only huffed, but remained quiet as he passed the cigarette beyond you to Enzo. Nobody answered, and your boyfriend shuffled from one foot to the other as your narrowed gaze turned on him. “Mattheo.”

“The Gryffindors were talking shot about our upcoming game, and McLaggen and his mates thought it’d be funny to charm all our jerseys pink for practice, so we’re just getting even.”

“Why do I get the feeling that whatever you’re about to do is far beyond ‘even’? Pink jerseys don’t seem equal to… whatever you’re doing here. I want no part of it.” You spun on your heel, but didn’t get very far, not even a single step, before Mattheo was wrapping an arm around your waist, and pulling you into himself. You jabbed a finger into his chest, putting the full heat of your wrath into your stare, “You said we were going for a walk!”

“We are! We did. Look, this is gonna’ be fun, you’ll see. I know how much that one Gryffindor chick has been pissing you off lately. I'm getting revenge for you too, here!” He cupped your cheek, running his thumb over your lips, before planting a kiss there. “I’m avenging you, baby.”

He took your hand, pulling you along behind him with the kind of infectious excitement that made you smile, even when you didn’t want to. Sitting down on one of the benches, you watched with an amused smile at the way he and his friends whispered conspiratorially amongst themselves as they thought through just what they might do. 

That innocent adoration you had didn’t last long.

You’d been expecting a few stink bombs in lockers and foul-smelling potions tipped into the shower drains that would stink for weeks. Maybe even a hex or two for inconvenience. A shriek burst past your lips as another of Theodore’s rockets shot past your head, screeching as it went and your hands clasped over your ears. 

He was letting them off, inside. Glitter exploded everywhere, the few flaming pieces of ash sprinkling down eroded holes in the towels and jerseys hanging on hooks around the locker room. Glass shattered somewhere, and Theo all but howled with laughter as the rocket shot off into the night sky to fizzle out with a colourful bang.

Enzo was spray-painting something on the walls in the shower room, following his rude and physically impossible message spray-painted on the inside of the door that he was still snickering to himself about. 

Mattheo was systematically unlocking all of the cupboards, and placing a different bad-luck hex on every single piece of equipment. After leaving a sporadic spiral-dive hex on one of the brooms and putting it back, you’d had enough. 

Sweeping your hair out of your eyes, you stood, making your way over to his side. “Matty…”

“Yeah, baby?” He was distracted as he mumbled his response, careful wand-work as he charmed one of the beater’s bats to flop like wet spaghetti every time they tried to hit something. 

“Mattheo.”

At your tone, and the use of his full name, he looked up. He took in the nervous expression on your face, the sad and pouty frown on your lips, and sighed. “What’s the matter?”

“Don’t you think this is a bit much?”

“They were talking shit about us!”

“You're risking really hurting someone, though!” You gestured around, from his handiwork to the broken window and glass fragments on the floor. “You’re actually damaging school property!”

“A few spells will have it cleaned up in no time. Don’t be dramatic.”

You gaped at him for a second, before walking away, turning your back to him and plopping down back onto the bench with a huff. Behind you, you heard him kick something, swearing under his breath, before he stepped back into your sight. When you didn’t look up at him, he dropped down to his knees, forcing himself into your line of vision. 

He has his puppy dog eyes on, and pressed a kiss to each of your hands as he took them in his own. “I didn’t mean it like that, pretty girl. I just meant… you don’t get it. This is what we do. You’re just too sweet for this, you wouldn't hurt a fly. But this could be so much worse, it’s all a bit of fun, just trust me, yeah? I’m getting them back, for me, and for you.”

“But it’s a lot. And I never asked you to get even for me.” You whispered, and he nodded. 

“You don’t have to ask. I protect you, that’s what I do. It’s you and me, baby. For life.” You softened a little at that, and he noticed, his smile growing again as he knelt up, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “I won’t do anymore, how’s that? I’ll round up the boys, and we’ll get out of—”

Just then, voices flickered through the room. The angry, panicked shouting of at least six different people, rapidly got louder as they neared the space you occupied. Enzo clambered up onto one of the window ledges, and peered out of the broken glass. “Oh, shit. They know. ‘Least ten Lions, coming this way. And fast. Fucking go!”

The first spell bounced through the open glass, sending shards flying as it caught the last of the jagged spikes still on the frame, just as Enzo ducked out of the way. Theo scrabbled past, and out of the back door, Enzo quickly following, and you jumped to your feet as Mattheo did. 

Another spell burst through, bouncing on the locked door, and the muffled voices of your accomplices felt a million miles away as fear struck through your body. The door rattled again, the lock creaking as the half-arsed spell they’d sealed it with threatened to give way. The pounding of your heart in your chest was deafening, roaring in your ears—

Then, a hand clamped down on yours, pulling you along. “Baby girl, let’s go! Come on, what are you doing?”

Mattheo tugged on your hand, like a splash of cold water the jolt he made snapped you to your senses. You stumbled after him, staring at his bouncing curls and the flush of his cheeks as he looked at you, guiding you out of the backdoor and into the night. Stumbling down the hill, the two of you ran so fast you almost fell several times, angry shouts following you out into the night as flashes and flickers of bright spells whizzed past you constantly. 

You let Mattheo guide you, running until your lungs burned and your chest ached from your pounding heart, but you’d lost them. You’d lost Theo and Enzo, too. Silence shrouded you both as you finally came to a stop, only the lapping water at the shore of the lake and both of your soft pants to break the heavy quiet.

He turned to you, one hand lifting to tuck some hair behind your ear, and you glared at him as he leaned in to kiss one of your no-doubt flushed cheeks. 

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered, knuckles still tracing up and down your jaw as he stared at you under the moonlight. 

“I’m so mad at you for that. I hate running, and panicking, and vandalising. All the things I hate, you just wrapped ‘em up in one.”

He smiled something wicked, and leaned in, to bump his nose with your own. “You love me, though.”

“Debatable, right now.” Your scoff was lost as he pressed soft kisses to your lips, coaxing you into remembering just how much you loved him. You were ashamed to say that it worked, as you parted your mouth a little more to reciprocate. 

You felt his smile pressed to your mouth as he did, that hand on your cheek smoothing out, fingers in your hair as he cupped your head, and angled your face for a deeper kiss. 

You were once again both panting by the time he pulled away, satisfied and smitten. 

“Come on, my angry girl. Let’s go for that walk now, yeah? Just me and you for a stroll around the lake.”

You winced as another cracking sounded out, the echo of Mattheo’s fist against the cocky Ravenclaw’s jaw had your stomach rolling. A boy you’d never much cared about. He was entitled and arrogant, and tended to run his mouth a little too much. He thought he was the best thing to grace the halls of Hogwarts, and a blessing to womankind, and you’d caught his eyes on you a couple of times. 

Of course, you’d never mentioned as much to Mattheo, in hopes of sparing him this exact situation. Mattheo didn’t take kindly to lingering gazes, and he didn’t tolerate leering ones at all. He was protective, overprotective, and he was a little bit crazy. He was also in love, and in his opinion, the cat-call the Ravenclaw had given to you and the choice words he’d accompanied it had crossed a line.

And they said Ravenclaws were the smart ones.

So, Mattheo hadn't hesitated. He’d dropped your hand, curled it into a fist, and swung on the boy before he’d even finished smirking at your shocked look. 

Now, you were sighing, as he took the Ravenclaw down to the ground, uncaring of the blow to his shoulder as the two rolled over the stone floors. Scuffling and throwing blows, a crowd formed around them, jostling you endlessly from side to side. He was winning, as always, beating the poor boy into the same blue as his house banners, and no amount of pleading on your behalf to just drop it was going to stop him now. 

You should’ve been halfway to Hogsmeade by now. You’d never make your reservation, and you’d gotten yourself all dressed up for nothing. Hours wasted on hair and make-up and picking out the perfect outfit for this date, all for Mattheo’s impulsive temper and one gross creep to ruin it.

The two continued to brawl, fists slamming, feet kicking, and blood splattering as the crowd cheered and shouted so loud it was deafening. You’d learnt it the hard way a long time ago that you couldn't do anything to stop him now, not when he got into this state, without risking getting hurt yourself. All you could do was wait, and hope.

Finally, the Gryffindor prefect stepped in. He was a sturdy man, broad-shouldered and thick-muscled, as was his friend, as the two grabbed for one of Mattheo’s arms each, pulling him off and to his feet. Blood streamed from his nose, and he grinned, pink tainting his teeth before he spat at the boy curling up on the floor. 

“You be fucking glad they stopped me, because I wouldn't have!” 

“For fuck’s sake…” You muttered, the heat of embarrassment crawling up your cheeks as several gazes fell on you. Elbowing his way through the crowd was an equally red Professor Slughorn, but his flush was from anger. 

“Riddle! Of course, it’s a Riddle. You can take yourself to detention.”

A whine slipped free from your throat as you crossed your arms over your chest. Mattheo attempted to shake off the two prefects, wiping his nose with his sleeve and wincing at the feeling. He shrugged, “I can’t tonight, professor. I have plans.”

“I don’t care! Detention, now!” 

Stepping over the Ravenclaw still whimpering at your feet, Mattheo smiled what you assumed was supposed to be a seductive grin at you as you neared him. With the split of his lip, the stain of dried blood on his face, and the splotchy swelling along his nose and jaw, it didn’t quite hit the mark anymore. You were too angry to fall for it. 

“So you’re bailing on our date, again?” Your lip wobbled, arms crossed your chest as you tried to glare at him, but the stinging in your throat betrayed you as your voice cracked. 

“Don’t cry, baby, you did your make-up so nice. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” He leaned in, lowering his voice in an attempt for intimacy, despite the Gryffindors tugging on his arms. “I love you.”

You sighed, but released your anger, cupping his face softly so as not to aggravate the painful patches further. “I love you too.”

His lips barely brushed your own before Slughorn was grabbing him by his collar, and yanking him away through the crowds towards detention. Once he was gone, the cowering boy on the floor dragged himself to his feet, his friends hauling him away, and he made the wise decision not to even glance in your direction. 

Even as the crowd parted and you made your way back to your dorm, the lingering feeling of anger petered out to immense disappointment. 

Your reflection was frowning as you stared at yourself in the mirror, pretty outfit and stunning makeup, all going to waste while your boyfriend rotted the night away in detention. 

Detention. 

The same place where your relationship had started, and a ridiculous idea began to root itself in your mind. Tipping out the contents of your school bag, your books and quills scattered across the bedding, and you repacked it with what you’d need instead. 

With a fresh spritz of perfume and a new swipe of lipgloss, you left your dorm, heels clicking against the stone as you hurried yourself along on your mission. The doors were spelled against sneaking out of detention, but sneaking in was surely a different case. 

Your suspicions were confirmed as you pushed the door open, the loud creak echoing through the room, but you were granted entry as you stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind you, and yet, Flitwick didn’t so much as flinch from where he was snoozing atop the desk at the front of the classroom. Mattheo watched with widening eyes and tissues pressed to his nose as you walked through the aisles and took a seat beside him at the desk he’d claimed as his own. 

“What’re you doin’ here, baby?”

You scoffed at his muffled voice, swinging your bag off your shoulder and onto the desk, before sitting down. Taking his hands in your own, you pulled them back, inspecting the damage he’d made to his pretty face. “It’s date night. I wasn’t going to let you sit in here all alone, when I put effort into looking this good.”

Your whispered words made him grin, and you took the tissues from his hands, dabbling softly at the last of the blood. When it was gone, you rifled through your bag instead, producing a small vial of swirling purple liquid. Upon seeing it, he groaned. “Oh, no, I hate those. They taste gross and musty.”

“Maybe if you hadn't done this to yourself, you wouldn't have to take it.” You uncapped the vial, and as the smell drifted to him, he gagged. You raised it to his lips, and he offered a sullen look but parted them for you to tip it into his mouth. Swallowing it came with a grimace, and you wiped your thumb over his lips to get rid of the sticky residue it left. Within seconds, the swelling on his jaw was going down, the cut on his nose was healing over, and the nasty bruising under his eyes was fading away. “That’s better. My pretty boy is back.”

He blushed at that but offered a cheeky grin, and leaned in to kiss you sweetly. Before his lips could meet yours, you swerved, and he grunted unhappily as his mouth landed on your cheek instead. 

“You’re not kissing me while you still taste like that gross potion.”

“Typical.” He mumbled, but left a few more peppered kisses along your jaw. You worked as he did, laying out the various snacks you’d brought with you along the table, and as he caught sight of the chocolate frog, an excited gasp slipped free. He snatched the frog up quickly, tearing off the foil wrapper and snapping off a leg. 

He lifted it to your lips, always offering you the first bite, and you let him feed it to you while he watched on. Happy you’d taken it, he snapped off another, dropping the chunk into his mouth and chewing happily. 

“God, I love you so fucking much,” He sighed as he finished eating, finally leaning in to claim this kiss he had been denied earlier. “I’m gonna’ marry you someday.”

“Yeah, and you’ll probably get yourself arrested on the big day.” Your voice was bitter but your smile was the same as whenever he talked of his plans or your joint future. He knew you were bluffing too, closing the gap between you both once again, and nipping gently on your bottom lip. 

“I always come back to you though, baby.”

That made you kiss him properly because you had no retort to offer. It was true, he always found his way back to you. He was crazy, reckless, and impulsive, but he was in love with you, and he didn’t care to hide it. 

Not from the others in the detention room, not from the people in the halls, not from anyone on this earth. It was the two of you together, he’d never leave you behind or let you down, and you could trust him in that. 

So, maybe he did prove ‘em right. But he also proved you right. Mattheo Riddle was so much more than they all said he was. He was loyal and loving, and he was yours.

[noemilivv]

What the…

HAZBIN HOTEL CAST are like as …

PARTNERS !! (and before that!)

Includes: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Alastor, Sir Pentious, Husker, Niffty, Lucifer Morningstar, Adam, Lute

Warnings: Swearing, S1 spoilers, sexual references, mentions of abuse, mentions of Valentino, messy, barely proofread

Also side note, if this is highly enjoyed, I will do a Part 2 with more characters!

Charlie Morningstar

Crush!Charlie is a bit obvious. Not TOO obvious, but maybe if you squint hard enough…

Crush!Charlie has a tendency to show extra attention to you, especially if you’re a resident at the Hotel who’s trying to go up to Heaven.

Example: You’re the first person she asks if they need help, invite for a group activity, etc

Despite the fact that Crush!Charlie is really eager to confess her feelings, she truly does find value in getting to know you as a friend first.

She believes that it has its perks, which it does.

Crush!Charlie enjoys getting to know your hobbies, interests, past, strengths, all of it.

But as you are going off on your usual yap sesh about your face topic …

Crush!Charlie can’t help but peck you on the cheek, you’re cheeks just look so squishy and cute!

You’re stunned… You would’ve never thought that.. Charlie? Likes you? Pffff… Ain’t no way!

Crush!Charlie scrambles to explain to you her genuine feelings, and how she’s wanted to be with you for a long time, and scrambles again to ask you if you feel the same.

Now it’s your turn to shut someone up with a kiss.

You give her a drawn out peck on the lips, not too short, but not too long. Just enough to satisfy.

And yes, you do feel the same.

Now GF!Charlie is totally stoked! But she’s also a bit scared of the shoes she has to fill.

GF!Charlie decides to give you a little candy bouquet (that she made!)! Honestly it’s the cutest frickin thing, it has little chocolates and lollipops like AAA get me a Charlie!

GF!Charlie decides to introduce you to her dad, sure you guys have crossed paths a few times, but like, formally this time.

At first Lucifer is intimidated by you (not that he’d admit that), similar to the rivalry he had with Alastor.

But after awhile, he warms up to you, at the end of the day he loves his daughter, and he sees that you do to. So long as you treat Charlie good and you like rubber ducks, he’s chill with you :)

GF!Charlie’s love language is gift giving and physical touch!

On one hand, she loves giving gifts, it’s very soothing for her to go out and find something to give you, or coming up with an idea to make something for you, it takes her mind off of things

But at the other end of the scale, she loves receiving physical touch, she kinda freezes when she does because it’s so much to her but at the same time she enjoys it dearly! Even something as simple as rubbing her hand with your thumb while handling hands, long hugs, or hand kisses send her into a spiral haha

At the end of the day, GF!Charlie loves you a ton and honestly is just happy to be there loving you lol

Vaggie

When Crush!Vaggie realizes she has a crush on you, it’s a bit of an ‘Oh Shit’ moment, y’know?

Due to her secret, and the fact that she has a bit of trust issues, they just don’t go hand-in-hand with love.

Crush!Vaggie is a bit dependent on you to make the first move, but that doesn’t mean she won’t, but she needs you to throw a few jabs first.

The more her crush on you stays and the more she doesn’t do about it, the more it starts to bug her

Crush!Vaggie decides one day she doesn’t know how much more of the subtle flirting and eye contact from across the room she can take, cause deep down, she has a gut feeling you like her too.

So, Crush!Vaggie decides she’s going to confess.

When it comes down to it, obviously you feel the same, and she really wants to make an impact right away!

Now GF!Vaggie decides to plan a little surprise for you, a date!

GF!Vaggie decides to just take you out to the back of the hotel and you two lay down and look at the night sky (as I’m not sure if there’s stars in Hell tbh.)

You two sit there and talk, it gets vulnerable for a bit, slowly but surely starting to break down eachothers walls… But not for too long before one of you is like “NOPE, too much emotions for one day!” haha

At the end of the day, GF!Vaggie, isn’t perfect at this whole girlfriend thing, but for you? She’ll sure as hell try.

Angel Dust

Like Vaggie, Crush!Angel is tempted to “NOPE” out, after falling into Val’s trap, he’s hesitant to try again.

But soon enough Charlie shows him that opening up got her an amazing girlfriend, so he decides, hey, might as well right?

Crush!Angel goes out of his way to obnoxiously flirt with you, but you thought this was normal behavior, as he does it with basically everyone at the hotel.

Crush!Angel thinks it’ll take time, but you’ll catch on, and well… not exactly…

One day, Crush!Angel comes back from a long shoot, and he pulls a good, classic flirt on you, and poof! Right over your head!

And he doesn’t know what got in him, maybe the alcohol, maybe Valentino, maybe the buildup stress, who’s knows, but he snaps…

Crush!Angel proceeds to go off about how he’s always flirting with you and how he just doesn’t get how you’re so blind that you just can’t see it!?

And you start to laugh, which at first makes him more mad.

“Well how was I supposed to know if you flirt with everyone here? I thought it was normal!”

And with that, you walk away, leaving him bamboozled.

The night goes on as normal, you head up to your hotel room, and just as you’re about to turn lights out you hear a knock on your door and a voice from the outside.

“So do you wanna fuck me too, or no?”

The next day, you and Crush!Angel have a talk over a drink or two, and decide, not only do you two wanna fuck, you also want to date!

Now BF!Angel is a bit nervous, but don’t fret! He has that feeling in his stomach that makes him want to grin like he’s never grinned before.

BF!Angel’s love languages are quality time and words of affirmations, considering all that Val can do to him in a day, he doesn’t love being touched without consent, but that doesn’t mean touch is off limits by any means! Just ask and he’ll give it to you!

And for quality time, you and BF!Angel don’t really go out for dates, considering how fans (and Val) are, also considering the fact that he just wants a break from life.

Instead, you two usually just spend time in eachothers hotel rooms, binge shows, give eachother makeovers, play dress up, just being the kids you never got the opportunity to be.

And once he sees that Fat Nuggets likes you, he knows you’re the one.

Alastor

When Crush!Alastor first realizes he has feelings for you, he makes a mental note and goes on with his day.

He doesn’t really understand the point in fussing about it like most do, but then again, he’s not most people.

Crush!Alastor does thoroughly enjoy spending time with you though, he likes to just sorta keep you around.

He sticks up for you, if somebody gives you a problem, it will be handled, even if it’s a bit sadistic, he will do it everytime.

Crush!Alastor doesn’t feel the need to confess directly, but if you ask him how he feels about it, he won’t deny his feelings towards you!

So whenever Crush!Alastor becomes BF!Alastor, he does lay down some ground rules, as a relationship with him, will not be the same as a relationship with others.

BF!Alastor is a gentleman, no doubt. He opens any door that you may come across (car, building, whatever), he asks for consent before doing anything — however intimate it may be, and he does buy you flowers.

But, that does not mean BF!Alastor is perfect, he’s not the most physically affectionate, unless he initiates it himself, and he’s not great with feelings.

If you’re upset, he tries to stay away, not because he doesn’t care, but because most of the time he’ll keep his upbeat energy and act like nothings wrong in attempts to cheer you up — but sometimes that’s just not what you need.

But, BF!Alastor kicks in eventually, and turns on some calming music, turns his radio affect down in volume so the sound doesn’t overwhelm you, and give you a nice, long hug as you two sway around the room.

By far, BF!Alastor’s love language is acts of service and quality time.

BF!Alastor honestly adores spending time with you, you’ve made him feel more alive than he has in years, and he follows you around like a puppy, but he makes it look like you following him around rather than the other way.

And he’ll always do things for you, even if he doesn’t understand them. If they make you happy, he might as well get started on doing them, because he can’t go awhile without seeing your darling face and your beautiful smile.

Sir Pentious

Crush!Pentious is… very… obvious.

But you don’t say anything, cause he’s adorkable.

You watch day after day out of pure adoration as Crush!Pentious tumbled over his words and changes his mind as he tried to make a move, and you loved every second of it.

This went on for awhile, and you started to notice his little quirks, which only made you fall for him more.

Eventually, one day after Crush!Pentious had tried to subtly say that he liked you, you decided to do him a favor.

“Pen.”

“I like you too.”

“I- UHM- WELL- YOU’RE- I- UHM-”

Yeah maybe that didn’t go how you thought it would…

Well in more ways than one, cause Crush!Pentious became BF!Pentious that day!

BF!Pentious was really nervous, he finally had you! But he didn’t wanna lose you cause he did something stupid either… He had to make the perfect move!

So he ended up asking Charlie to ask you a bunch of relationship related questions, and ending up deciding on your dream date with your favorite flowers. Basic, but gets the job done right?

BF!Pentious’ love languages are gift giving and physical touch. Like please cuddle him. He’ll get pouty if you don’t notice. So just notice already!!

BF!Pentious, like Charlie, loves making you gifts! He uses his knowledge from war machines to make something homemade and honestly it’s just the sweetest thing!

Is he perfect? Yes. But for this let’s say no. Does he try? Also yes!

Husker

Crush!Husk can’t even remember the last time he had a crush, but he’s chill with it.

Crush!Husk never planned on officially confessing to you, he just was going with the flow, ya know?

You start talking to him and realize maybe you like him too, but it wasn’t thought about much more than that.

It’s not until Angel asks you, “So are ya fucking or no..?”

And it makes you think, no, but you wouldn’t mind if that were arranged.

So one night, while you’re drunk and talking to Crush!Husk, you say… “Y-Ya knOW! We- We should HAHAH get together! HEHEHEH!” “Talk to me when you’re sober, you’re not making a stupid decision, I won’t let ya.”

And somehow, someway, you remembered that in the morning. So with a headache from your hangover, you go up to Husk’s bar and sit down, “What are we?” “Whatever you want us to be.”

From then on, Crush!Husk became BF!Husk!!

BF!Husk always made sure to look out for you. He’s the ‘defend you in public, correct you in private’ kinda guy.

BF!Husk is big on words of affirmation and acts of service.

He won’t hesitate to tell you how much he loves and cares for you whenever you need it, he’s a very honest guy, but he also loves doing little things to show that he cares.

‘Oh, I did the dishes for you.’ or ‘I cleaned your room.’ or ‘I folded your laundry.’ are things you hear daily.

Niffty

Crush!Niffty is another one that’s very obvious, and quite frankly, she doesn’t care.

Crush!Niffty has been open to you about her feelings since day one, and you make sure she knows you feel the same way.

So basically instantly, she becomes GF!Niffty.

GF!Niffty loves physical touch and acts of service.

She loves cleaning for you, and showing you all her accomplishments. But she also loves hugging you, kissing you, just being next to you is enough.

Life isn’t much different versus life with Crush!Niffty but you love it regardless, and you wouldn’t trade either life for anything.

Lucifer Morningstar

Crush!Lucifer doesn’t really have that shock of realizing he likes you, cause he always has and has always known.

You were the one person who was there after Lilith, even if it was only platonic back then, you were still there.

Crush!Lucifer REALLY likes you and considering how long he’s liked you (literal years) he decides to just man up and say it.

Unsurprisingly, you feel the same way and you two start dating.

BF!Lucifer doesn’t want to lose you like how he lost Charlie and Lilith, so he’s very certain that he gives you everything he thinks you derserve.

BF!Lucifer is a big jumble of all the love languages at once because of this. But I think he leans towards physical touch and words of affirmation.

BF!Lucifer is constantly in need of reassurance as he feels like he’s not enough due to his depression, and also hugs, because y’know, hugs help.

If you have a good relationship with Charlie, which you should, like cmon, he’s ecstatic! And sometimes he needs your help with parenting cause he really wants to try his best for you, and her.

Adam

Adam and you started off just fucking for fun, and fucking for fun turned into, friends, friends turned into- woah… it turned into a crush…

Crush!Adam is fucking clueless, he’s not good with this stuff, just guitar solos (FUCK YEAAHH).

During Charlie’s meeting with Heaven, he slips you a note…

Hey hot babe,

wanna do more than just fuck? (date)

And my God, you better accept because THAT is ART.

BF!Adam is far from perfect, but damn close. He really cares. But his main love languages are quality time and physical touch.

I mean cmon, he’s not great with his words, he can’t do much other than fight, he’s ass at giving gifts (he tried to give you a dildo once). So it’s really the only thing he’s good at, he can sit there, and touch you. That’s about all he knows how to do!

At the end of the day, BF!Adam really tries his best, he loves you, after all :)

Lute

Considering the fact you’re Lute’s boss, she spends a lot of time with you.

And because of that, she starts to develop feelings.

Crush!Lute realizes she has a crush on you almost immediately, although she hesitates to tell you, due to how much you guys are together and her job.

But after awhile, she has a bit of a ‘screw it’ moment.

And boom! She turns into GF!Lute.

GF!Lute is a whole new version of the person you had gotten to know. Her wild side comes out, unlike her normal stoic side. (Example: “RIP VAGGIES CUNT MOUTH OUT ‘ER ASS!!!”)

Also side note, GF!Lute is committed as fuckkk. Once she’s there, she’s there for good, cause she loves you!

— END.

Hello! This is my first Hazbin post! I haven’t written for these characters in a solid year so I hope it’s alright! As I said up top, if this gets a lot of love, then I’ll do a part two (Which will include Cherri and the Vees to name a few~) ! Also don’t mind my Lute bias lmao, she’s my fav, she’s so hatable but idgaf and I love her vibe lmao! I’m hyperfixating on Hazbin since the first season just came out lmao! So please send requests! Love ya :)

[harrysbelovedd]

espresso [rafe cameron]

“oh he looks so cute, wrapped round my finger..” ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

pairing - rafe cameron x reader

summary - rafe doesn’t do relationships, cuddling, kisses, and sweetness. strictly no commitment hookups had sufficed. that was until he met the girl at the coffee shop.

warnings - nothing rlly, just super sweet whipped rafe

Rafe was heartless. Cold. Rough. Any situation he had with girls was nothing more than that—a situation, a fling. He had absolutely zero desire to be in anything committed.

To his friends, his sisters, his family, and his hookups—he was a mean, heartless monster. (Only tolerating Wheezie, of course.)

And he liked it that way.

No one expected anything from him, no one bored him with their feelings. It made his life so much easier not being overly concerned about the well-being of others.

But today, when Wheezie dragged Rafe to some fancy coffee shop she’s been wanting to visit, his philosophy flew out the window.

“Yeah, I’ll have the caramel latte with cold foam,” the young girl recites her order. “Oh! And a chocolate croissant.”

“Yeah, for sure!” I smile at her, typing her order into the till. “Anything for you?” I turn my attention to the man next to her, presumably a father or brother—probably brother, he seems younger.

He doesn’t say anything, his gaze remaining intent on my features, like my words flew right past his ears.

“Um.. sir? Did you want anything?”

The girl next him sighs, shoving his shoulder. “Stop staring at her you creep.”

His head shakes, like he was snapped out of a trance. He comes to the situation at hand, pinching the bridge of his nose “I’m sorry, that was probably creepy, my bad,” he chuckles awkwardly. The girl next to him makes a face at him, surprised by his actions.

“It’s okay,” I smile. “I zone out a lot too,” I let out a small giggle, trying to make him feel more comfortable.

He grins, “Yeah, um, I’ll take a macchiato, thanks.”

“Great, and could I get a name for the order?”

“Whe—“

“Rafe,” he interjects. I grin, writing his name down.

He pays for the drinks, smiling at me before going to find a table with the girl.

-

“What was that?” Wheezie questions loudly.

“Shut it, Wheeze. I was zoned out, is all.”

She blows out a puff of air, “Yeah right, me and that barista could practically see the drool falling out of your mouth the second you laid eyes on—“

I kick Wheezie’s leg under the table when that same pretty barista comes by with our drinks.

“One caramel latte with cold foam and a chocolate croissant,” She smiles sweetly, placing the pastry and sugary drink in front of Wheezie. “And one macchiato for Rafe.”

When my name rolls off her tongue, I swear I see stars. She says it with a sweetness I’ve never heard before. Her voice so soft and kind. As she’s placing the drink in front of me, all I can think about it how much I wish I knew her name.

So, I incite a moment for her to tell me. “Thank you…” I pause, trailing off.

“Oh, Y/n!” She says, surprise I asked such a question.

Y/n. So fitting. It’s perfect.

“That’s a pretty name,” for a pretty girl, I wish to say.

She grins, her cheeks flushing a shy pink. “Thanks, if you guys need anything else, let me know!” She informs before wandering off.

Once she’s out of ear shot, Wheezie begins. “Might as well go kiss her over the coffee beans.”

“Oh, shut up, Wheeze.”

one year later

I walk through the doors of Tannyhill like I have so many times before, it’s become a second home.

“Hi, sweetie.” Rose says from the living room where she sips on a glass of wine, reading a book.

“Hi, Rose! Do you know where—“

“He’s in the gym with Topper and Kelce. Beware I hear a lot of groaning and shouting. Too much testosterone for their own good.” She jokes.

I chuckle, shaking my head as I head to the side of the house near the garage where the gym is. The blasting of rap music grows louder the closer I get along with the clanking of weights, and occasional grunts.

I open the door and see Topper and Kelce doing pull ups while Rafe bench presses. Rafe can’t see me due to obviously needing to stay focused.

“Hey, Y/n,” Topper greets, jumping down from the pull up bar.

Before I could ever reply with a greeting, Rafe hooks up the bench press, sitting up quickly. “Y/n?” He smiles, his smile faltering when he turns back toward his friends. “Aye, Kelce, turn that shit down.”

He gets up, walking toward me and pushing me out the door and back into the hallway. He closes the door behind him and his hands find their spot on my waist, a grin taking home on his lips. “Hey baby.”

I smile, my cheeks flushing pink. “Hi.”

“What’re you doing here?” He asks, his thumbs rubbing comforting circles into my skin that’s exposed near the hemline of my shirt.

My hands run up his chest, manicured nails running along the collar of his shirt. “Nothin’… just missed you is all.”

“Yeah?” He questions, that sly smirk on his lips. “You missed me, baby?”

“Yeah, come hang out with me? We can just stay upstairs or we can go to the beach maybe? Or go get lunch, hm?” I coo, my hands now running along his jaw, studying his every feature.

“Whatever you wanna do, my love. Just wanna spend time with you.” He leans in, his lips kissing their favorite spots along my jaw and neck. He pauses for a moment when he hears childish giggles from the other side of the door.

Topper and Kelce walk out, teasing grins on their faces. “I missed you baby,” Topper mocks. “I missed you more, come kiss me and spend time with me, please Y/n. Let me worship the ground you—“

Kelce was cut off by a rough punch to his shoulder. “Ow! Shit, Rafe. Not my fault you’re whipped.”

Topper and Kelce chuckle, walking past us toward the front door. “Try that shit again and you won’t be able to walk out of here!” Rafe threatens.

“Oh cmon, Rafe. They just know you’re wrapped around my finger,” I say loud enough for them to hear.

“Ain’t that the motherfuckin’ truth!” Topper shouts before shutting the front door behind him.

Rafe buries his head in my shoulder, “Baby, you’re just egging them on.”

I chuckle, “Sorry, you’re just so cute all wrapped around my finger.”

He looks back in my eyes, a smile on his lips. “I’m whipped and I’m proud.”

I chuckle, slapping his chest playfully as I drag him upstairs.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Mafia!Bucky’s Girl gets Arrested

Mafia!Bucky’s Girl Arrested Moodboard

Warning:Police Brutality, DD/LG dynamics and Daddy Kink, Protective Bucky and Mafia!Bucky (which is its own warning)

She always knew that it was a possibility but it never really crossed her mind as something that was going to happen. Ever since getting with her Mob Boss boyfriend, the man who had decided she belonged to him the second he set eyes on her and stalked her relentlessly until she finally agreed to be his girl, she had almost always been right by his side.

Bucky knew that Y/n was as loyal as they come and he didn’t doubt her love for him or her dedication for even a second, but he still didn’t want her out of his sight. There are plenty of men out there who want to hurt James Barnes and he refuses to see his Princess be a victim of an idiot with a vendetta or to even see an ounce of pain on her perfect face.

This day however, it was unavoidable.

Bucky had a delivery that needed to be picked up and he had to oversee it personally, something he wouldn’t bring his girl along for and so he gave her a Black Amex that he had just for her and dropped her off at her favorite outlet. He knew that she could shop around there for hours and that she gladly would until he picked her up later that evening.

‘Stay in public Princess, don’t go anywhere outside of this outlet, understand?’ Bucky warned, opening her car door and helping her out.

‘Yes Buck, I promise I will stay here. You know I’ll shop for a few outfits before ending up in the bookstore for the rest of the time.’ She teased making the notoriously angry Mob Boss smile. He had recently cleared out an entire bedroom in his mansion and lined it with wall to wall bookshelves so that she could have her own perfect reading room. She was fixing it up exactly how she wanted to make it perfect and was spending a lot of his money to give herself a library, apparently needing 1000 books before it actually counted as one (not that he minded spending money on her, especially not for something that made her so happy and often inspired new things to try in the bedroom thanks to her Dark Romance books).

‘That’s where I will pick you up, okay? I’ll text you when I’m finished and you meet me here, okay?’

‘Yes Daddy.’ She teased, knowing how much he loved it when she called him that as she pulled him down to her by his suit jacket and pressed her lips to his. ‘You’d better make sure you’re done all your work by the time you pick me up because you’re all mine for the next 2 days.’

‘Yes ma’am. I promised you a nice, quiet weekend just the two of us and I meant it.’ With all the extra time Bucky had been working after one of his biggest allies was arrested, he needed to make it up to his Princess and he had sworn that after the delivery he was all hers for the entire weekend. ‘I’ll see you soon Babygirl.’ With that he kissed her nose and hopped back into the car, leaving his girl to shop for the afternoon.

Y/n spent about 2 hours in her favorite stores getting several outfits and even stopping to pick up a few new lingerie sets that she knew her Daddy would love before entering the bookstore. By the time she had been there for an hour she had purchased 11 books and could be found sitting in a chair by the window with a hot chocolate and a muffin, reading to her hearts content. And that is exactly where they found her.

‘Y/n L/n?’ Y/n looked up to see a small women with her hair pulled into a ponytail holding a badge out to her and couldn’t help the confused look on her face.

‘Um…can I help you officer?’ She couldn’t help her confusion, she hadn’t done anything to warrant being spoken to by the police.

‘Get up!’ The man beside her barked, pulling out handcuffs and yanking her up from her chair causing her to cry out, the scalding hot drink spilling on her hand as she was moved violently.

‘Ow! What the fuck?! You can’t treat people like this! I haven’t done anything wrong, and even if I had you didn’t even give me a chance to comply! Ow!’ The cuffs went on painfully tight as her arm was twisted at an odd angle.

‘Hey, you can’t treat her like that!’ A barista spoke up, phone in hand and recording the interaction.

‘Mind your business unless you would like to join her!’ The man barked, his partner staying quiet.

‘Okay, you need to grab my stuff at least, I have bags there. Hello?! So not only are you violent, you’re deaf and stupid, good to know.’ She groaned.

‘We’ll hold your things in the back. You come and get them whenever you can.’ The same barista said, following with her phone as she was dragged out.

‘Thank you. My boyfriend will be by looking for me when I don’t answer him, my phone is in one of the bags! I-the least you can do is let me make sure my stuff is taken care off asshole!’ The next thing Y/n knew she was slammed against the police car, her face suffering the brunt of the hit as it collided.

‘Y/n L/n, you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.’ The women spoke, reading her her rights as she was put into the car. ‘Do you understand these rights as I’ve read them to you?’

‘Do I also have the right to not have your boorish partner throw me around like I’m his red headed step child? I don’t think that was in there. I’m not saying anything to you, and I haven’t done a single thing wrong.’

‘Sweetie, you’ve been doin’ shit wrong since you said “yes” to a date with James Barnes.’ The asshole spoke, starting the car and driving away from the bookstore.

‘Oh, now I understand. You don’t have shit on my boyfriend who you think is some kind of criminal for some unknown reason and so because you’re so shit at your job you violently arrest his innocent girlfriend. Gotcha.’

‘You ain’t been innocent since you started suckin’ his cock. You know it, he buys you pretty things and you stick your tongue out. You’re an expensive whore and nothing more-‘

‘That’s enough Tanner!’ His partner snapped and she listened to them argue about Bucky while trying to get feeling back into her arms and hands that she was leaning on with her knees pressed painfully to the cage between the front and back seat, all the while blood was leaking down her face and onto her sundress. It was sad, this was one of Bucky’s favorites, she only wore it because she knew he was supposed to pick her up to start their long weekend together.

She was led into the precinct pretty easily before walking through the bullpen and seeing multiple cops that she knew Bucky employed. She pushed down the instinct to smile knowing that they wouldn’t get ahold of Bucky or Steve tonight but also knowing someone would call Andy. She had met Andy several times and loved Steve’s twin brother dearly, knowing that if anything ever happened that Andy Barber would be the one getting her out of it. He had taken his wife’s name in law school to get away from his “criminal” last name of Rogers and yet he still represented them as he knew he always would.

‘Sit here, I’ll get something to wipe off your face-‘

‘No thank you, I’ll stay like this. I don’t need your help.’ Y/n told the women who looked at her sideways. ‘I’ll wait until I’m out of here and my lawyer can see the state that 2 police officers put me in just to arrest a women who was perfectly cooperative. He’s going to have a field day with your department.’ She glared, now seemingly pissed off herself, slapping a folder in front of her and opening it to show her pictures of her and Bucky together. One was him helping her out of the car, one was them walking into a premier, her boyfriends arm around her waist possessively as it was in every single picture they had.

‘Seems like he’s pretty taken with you.’ Y/n raised her eyebrows, not willing to say anything about Bucky what so ever. ‘Just like he was with this girl, and this one-‘ she showed pictures of two other girls with Bucky from before they were together. Bucky and Y/n had had the “Ex’s Talk” and they were both honest about past relationships but the thing that sealed it for Y/n right now was that seeing Bucky with these women, he didn’t hold them like he held her. It wasn’t even close to the same and if ever there was doubt that she would rat on her man (which there wasn’t) there sure as fuck wasn’t any now. ‘Let us help you get away from him, he’s a bad man. He’s killed people, God only knows how many of them.’

‘Oh My God!’ Y/n exclaimed, looking at one of the pictures and while the cop seemed to think she was getting through for a single second she was quickly proved wrong. ‘I was having a really bad hair day. Do you think we could get rid of this one? I just look awful.’

‘You’re not taking this seriously at all.’

‘No, and I’m not going to. You assaulted me, violently dragged me in here and now you’re questioning me about my boyfriend like he’s some kind of criminal! He is the sweetest man alive and he would never hurt anyone, now, I’m not going to be saying anything else without my lawyer.’ Her partner scoffed as he stood by the door watching this go on.

‘Yeah, we’ll see how quickly we get around to calling him.’ He laughed and Y/n just rolled her eyes.

‘He’ll be here soon enough.’ She mumbled.

‘What was that?! What are you mumbling you little bitch, if you think for one fucking minute that we give a shit about that murderers whore you’re wrong, and he ain’t gonna save you either! We’ll let you sit in here for days and guess what? Eventually you’re gonna give him up! Just to see daylight again!’ The officer raged before pulling his partner out and slamming the door shut, all lights but one going out and leaving Y/n in almost complete darkness.

She couldn’t tell you how long she sat there in the dark, quiet room just staring at the window mirror. It felt like hours by the time the door opened again and the lights were thrown on making her squint as her eyes adjusted to the harsh brightness. Y/n could hear a familiar voice screaming and the look of apprehension on the women’s face was fantastic after her treatment.

Suddenly a man who looked way too much like Steve stormed in and took in Y/n’s appearance. ‘Jesus! She’s fucking bloody, you have got to be fucking with me if you think this is alright Captain! Uncuff her this instant!’ Andy demanded and the large cop gave him an angry look before doing as he was told, the “discreet” look from his Captain being enough to spur him into action. ‘Are you alright Miss. L/n? Do we need to go to the ER?’ He offered but she shook her head.

‘No Andy, they offered to wash the blood off, I just wanted you to see where they had slammed me into their car.’ He nodded, making a gesture that told her to be quiet and tell him everything somewhere else.

‘I’m taking my client home. I will expect the recording of this interrogation, all of it, every second, to be sent to my office by morning. If even one second is off I won’t stop until this precinct is a fucking In-n-Out burger! Now fuck off!’ Andy took Y/n’s hand and pulled her along gently, not wanting to hurt her anymore than she already was. ‘You did well, I want to take a few pictures of you to have it documented, then we’ll get you cleaned up.’ She nodded along as they exited the building and moved to his car where he took pictures of her face at every angle as well as her bruised wrists and burned hand.

They had just gotten into the car when Andy’s phone began ringing Bucky’s tone and he put it on Speaker immediately. ‘Andy! She’s Gone! You Need To Get Her Back Andy! I Can’t-‘

‘Boss! It’s okay! I got her, I got a call from Officer Bowers when they walked her in.’ She nodded along.

‘He called right away, I saw a few cops that recognized me and the looks on their faces were priceless.’ She joked, hoping to pull a laugh from Bucky but it did not happen.

‘Princess! Are you okay? I swear to God, if they hurt you-‘

‘It’s okay Daddy. Stay at the bookstore, Andy’s dropping me off there, he wants to talk to the barista who recorded my arrest. She was nice, she promised to hold all my bags until you got there.’ She realized as she heard her Daddy’s voice how badly she had just wanted to fall into his arms and cry herself to sleep.

‘Okay Babygirl, I’ll get your stuff into the car. Get her here Andy, now!’ Her Daddy demanded before hanging up the phone, clearly upset.

It took another 10 minutes to get to the store and the second Y/n crossed the threshold she was grabbed and pulled into Bucky’s arms. He was warm and strong, just like every time he held her but this time she needed him to hold her like he never had before as she felt her mind sink back to that small, regressed place that she didn’t go to very often and it was like her Daddy physically felt it happen as her mind receded back into her safe space.

‘Daddy’s here Babygirl. Your Daddy’s got you, not a thing to worry about.’ He swore, not even caring about the fact that he’s in public as he lifted his girl into his arms and cradled her like an infant. ‘Daddy’s gonna take you home now Baby, gonna go home and get you in your jammies, and all snuggled up in the blankies.’ Bucky turned and walked back out the door from where Y/n had just come, Steve promptly opening the back door and letting his boss climb in before going back to start the SUV. ‘Is my Baby hungry? Daddy has food being made right now for my Princess’ dinner.’

‘So hungry!’ She groaned, clutching to his suit jacket and nuzzling close to his warm body.

‘We’re gonna get you all fed and snuggly warm in our bed baby, don’t you worry. I love you so much, Daddy is gonna make sure those awful cops are taken care of…do you want to talk about it?’ She pouted in response and he brushed his fingers through her hair to comfort her.

‘They were all rough and mean. Showed me pictures of us and pictures of you with your other girlfriends to make me talk bad about you.’ Bucky scoffed, rolling his eyes.

‘Clearly they’re morons if they thought my Princess would turn on me.’ He chuckled at the absurdity of the idea. He knew how loyal his girl was, and he knew that (despite the fact that he would never let it happen) she would have gone to jail and kept quiet the whole time. ‘Don’t worry baby, this whole week is all about Daddy loving on you. Okay? You’re gonna be sick of my hugs by the end ‘cause I’ve rescheduled all of my meetings and appointments. It’s all about you now.’

‘Could never be sick of you, Daddy. I love you so much!’ She swore, nuzzling into his neck and breathing in his heavy scent. As always he smelled like peppermint and his cologne which was very earthy and smoky which he knew his Babygirl loved, however after having been working tonight she could also smell gunpowder which would have made her ask questions and worry if she weren’t completely at the mercy of her regression right now.

Bucky pressed his lips to her forehead for several seconds as Steve pulled up the driveway and finally parked outside of the cabin style mansion in the woods. Her Daddy knew it was her favorite one of his houses to spend time at which is why he picked it for the weekend before extending it to the entire week after watching her arrest video and the interrogation video that Andy sent him just before they got to the bookstore. Some of her comments genuinely made him chuckle, and he was so proud to hear her defense of him and wonderful acting as she could have really convinced people that her boyfriend was just a sweet business man being targeted by the police maliciously. However after seeing how they treated her, Bucky knew that she would be needing his love and comfort, hating to hear that they had called her a whore and tried to make her think that he was just using her for her body.

As they laid in bed that night after her Daddy had fed her dinner and given her a bath filled with bubbles and sweet smelling bath salts he held her tightly to his chest, caressing her bare thigh as she snuggled him in her panties and one of his Henley’s (which was his favorite outfit to see her in of all time, including both fancy dresses or lingerie).

‘You know that your Daddy loves you more than anything else in this world, don’t you Princess?’

‘Mmhmm…’ she mumbled, half asleep already, Bucky’s ability to make her feel safe and comfortable enough to sleep so quickly being a subject of great pride for him.

‘And you know that you’re not a whore…I mean, sometimes I enjoy it when you’re Daddy’s good little whore but…you know you are so much more than that to me, right?’ She nodded into his chest subtly and he momentarily wondered if she even knew what he was saying.

‘Not a whore. Just Daddy’s whore…I love you Daddy.’

‘I love you too Princess. You sleep now, you can be Daddy’s good little whore in the morning…’ he promised, hearing her little moan and kissing her head before pulling the covers around her tighter, allowing himself to drift off to sleep with his Baby safe in his arms.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[adrienneleclerc]

hi! i loved Drive Thru Test and i was wondering if you'd actually write charles calling y/n his girlfriend and then her not wearing the ring. i think that would just be really funny and he'd be so cute whining. im not trying to rush you and I'd be happy to wait for the fic!

Hi! Yes, it would be very funny because i don’t think Charles realizes that he proposed to a Drama Queen. I don’t know if it turned out like you wanted it to but I really hope you like it!

Fiancé Girlfriend

Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: After a month of being engaged, Charles isn’t used to calling Y/N his fiancé, and accidentally calls her his girlfriend AGAIN. Y/N being true to her words, decides to stop wearing her ring.

Warning: the usual spelling and grammatical errors, VERY bad photoshop.

A/N: I am on my period and it SUCKS, i haven’t been able to get much sleep sadly and i really want chocolate and there’s no chocolate in my house 😩 also, if I were to ever give Charles and Y/N a dog in my fanfics, it will not be Leo since he is a Saint Mleux as well, not just a Leclerc

(His face when he realized he messed up)

Y/N was in the paddock at the Monaco Grand Prix, she had to be there for Charles’s home race. She was happy she did, Charles got P1, Max P2, and Lando P3. Charles kissed her when he got out of the car, she saw his podium ceremony, literally the best GP she’s been to, nothing could mess up her mood. She was in the hospitality snacking on whatever they were offering her while watching the post race interview on the TV and something happened.

“So Charles, we saw you kissing Y/N after your big Home Race win, how long have you guys been together?” The interviewer asked.

“Yes, my girlfriend and I have been together for 5 years.” Charles said and his eyes widened. Max and Lando were also looking at him like ‘ooh, she’s gonna kill you’ “Wait, no, that’s not what I meant..” Charles started but the interviewer ignored him and started asking Max and Lando questions.

Y/N was in shock, how dare Charles call we his girlfriend on live television. So Y/N did what any normal person would do, she took off her ring and placed it securely in the inside pocket of her purse.

Charles in the other hand was panicking after the interview.

“Okay, try not to panic.” Lando said.

“That ship has sailed, Lando. I’m panicking, I’m fucking panicking!” Charles was paving around the room.

“There’s probably a good chance she didn’t see the post race interview.” Lando said.

“And if she did? I already called her my girlfriend once, you know what she said she would do if I do it again? Take off her ring.” Charles said.

“Maybe she was bluffing, she wouldn’t actually go through with that, she loves you too much. I have never seen a couple love each other so much.” Max said and Charles smiled.

“You’re right, Max, she loves me, she’d never take off the ring.” Charles said. He left the room to go to the hospitality and saw Y/N eating fries. “Mon ange! Did you see the interview?”

“Muñeco! Yes I did.” Y/N said.

“I am so sorry, I really am.” Charles takes Y/N’s hand in his and noticed something was missing. “Mon ange, where’s your ring?”

“What ring, muñeco?” Y/N asked, feigning innocence.

“Your ring, your engagement ring, where is it?” Charles asked.

“Charles, I don’t know what you are talking about, why would I have a ring? It’s not like I’m your fiancé or anything, I’m just your girlfriend.” Y/N said and Charles pouted.

“I’m sorry! I swear I am so very sorry, I didn’t mean it.” Charles begged for forgiveness.

“Let’s go home, muñeco, can we order in?” Y/N asked.

“Yeah sure, anything you want, mon coeur.” Charles said. They were walked to the car and as soon as they got in, Charles expected Y/N to put her ring back on since they are not ‘in public’ anymore but she didn’t, the ring was still off. “So mon ange, have you been thinking about when would you want the wedding?”

“Wedding? What wedding? We’re not even engaged, Charles.” Y/N said. You know the saying ‘if they go low, I go lower’? Y/N is going as low as the depths of hell for a slip of the tongue.

“Mon ange, is not funny anymore.” Charles whined.

“Did you order food?” Y/N asked.

“Yes I did, we’re picking it up.” Charles said.

“Cool.” Y/N said.

The drive to the restaurant and back home was silent.

“Okay, we’re back home now.” Charles said as they entered the apartment.

“Yes muñeco, Im aware.” Y/N said but she still didn’t put her ring back on.

“Mon ange please wear your ring.” Charles begged, wrapping his arms around her waist, her back to his chest. “Please, I promise to announce our engagement on Instagram.” Charles kisses her neck. “Please just wear the ring, I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, you are the best fiancé a man could ever have.” Charles whispered in her ear as he places little neck kisses.

Y/N turned around and saw Charles pouring with teary eyes and she felt her heart melt.

“Aw muñeco, okay, I’ll wear my ring. But promise the whole world will know we are engaged. I love that you want your friends and family to know first, but it hurts me when you still call me your girlfriend.” Y/N said and Charles kisses her forehead.

“I know, mon ange. We’re going to let the whole world know that you’re my fiancé.” Charles kissed her passionately.

Liked by pierregasly and 830,659 others

charles_leclerc after years of dating, I proposed to the love of my life on our 5th anniversary. I love her so much, I am thankful for having her in my life. We have been engaged for a month and I am so happy that I get to call her my fiancé, the future Mrs. Leclerc, I love you 😘.

View all 9,235 comments

landonorris happy for you mate, so glad she didn’t kill you

charles_leclerc you and be both 😳

maxverstappen1 happy for you mate!

carlossainz55 congratulations, cabrón! I expect invite to the wedding

yourusername aww, muñeco, I love you too, I can’t wait to be Mrs. Leclerc 🥹

francisca.cgomes let me be a bridesmaid!

yourusername you’re maid of honor!

user45 no wonder Charles looked nervous after his pst race interview

yourusername posted a story

charles_leclerc replied

Can’t wait to be your husband 😘

The End

Hope y’all liked it! It was a little short but fun to write!

[emmyrosee]

[4:56 pm]

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”

Immediately, your eyes bug out at the sound of your husband coming home and bursting through the door. Your hands that had been playing with the teddy bear on the bed stills, and you freeze for a moment.

Your daughter, Kamiko, also now having been surprised at the noise, looks up at you to gauge your reaction and dictate how she should feel, eyes like Katsuki’s blinking up at you. You gnaw your lip as there’s another yell, one of your name, and you’re quick to look at your daughter and hold a finger to your lips to keep her quiet, though giggling softly to ease her. She giggles back, and you shush her softly.

“YOUVE GOT SOME EXPLAINING TO DO!”

Okay. Maybe spending an unspeakable amount on pastries was fair to make him rage. But in your defense, you never get to go into that bakery!

Katsuki knows the absolute fortune you tend to shell out for their pastries, and he tries his damn hardest to keep you out of there. He knows they’re good, but he tells you that ‘that’s not the point.’

So, naturally, when he went to work and you and Kamiko made your way to run errands, the smell of chocolate and cinnamon rolls were just too enticing to ignore. You’d made your way into the quiet bakery and grabbed things that would surely be appreciated by Katsuki.

Apparently, however, he saw the damage on his credit card before your kindness can show.

Whups.

You’re quick to lay down on your side- back facing the door and body curled around Kamiko- still holding a finger to your lips, and when she gives you a nod of understanding, you close your eyes just in time for angry feet to storm down the hallway to your room. You hear the door fly open, and you can feel the crimson eyes of your husband boring into the back of your skull.

“I’m going to absolutely destroy you-“

“Dadda,” your two year old whispers, and you hear her ease out a soft ‘shhhh.’ “Mumma sleepin’.”

“Is she?” He snarls, unconvinced. “And she let you stay awake? Just because?”

“Was sleepin’ too, dadda. Woke me up…”

Where she learned to be such a good liar, you’ll never know.

You hear Katsuki let out an impatient exhale through his nose, clearly weighing his options as your breathing continues its rhythmic pace, mimicking sleep. Kamiko’s tiny hand pats your cheek affectionately. “Dadda, shhhh…”

Katsuki sighs dramatically, and you are surprised to feel the soft peck against your temple, massive, calloused hand smoothing down your back. “We will discuss this later,” he snarls in your ear. “Get some rest, Kami. I’m gonna start dinner, okay?”

“Okay dadda!” She chirps, and when you hear his feet pad away and the door close, your eyes fly open and a smile spreads wide over your face.

“You’re such a little troublemaker!” You growl playfully, taking the little girl into your arms and kissing her all over. She squeals at your affections and gently shoves your face away. “Ohhh just like your mommy! And your uncle Denki! He’s gonna be so-“

“I KNEW YOU WERENT ASLEEP!”

The door slams back open, and a disgruntled Katsuki immediately flies back in, gathering you and Kamiko in each arm. You two shriek, but the smiles on your face absolutely plastered, unbudging from your faces as he manhandles you- Kamiko, with a raspberry on her cheek back onto the bed, and you, over his shoulder mercilessly.

“YOU SPENT ¥13000 IN THAT STUPID BAKERY?! AND YOU GOT OUR DAUGHTER TO LIE TO ME?!” He’s trying as hard as he can to keep the smirk off his face, though you hear it breaking through in his shouts.

Your fists bang against his back, nails digging in, but he’s unrelenting, and you whine out when he makes a fake move to drop you. “I-I wanted coffee cake!” You titter, screwing your eyes shut. “Kami! Help me!”

“Go, dadda!”

“WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON!” You bark in betrayal.

“The winning side,” he snickers, turning on his feet to carry you out of the room. “If you help me punish mumma, I won’t punish you so bad, Kami.”

“Yeah!”

“NO!”

Was it worth having one of the cupcakes getting smushed into your face? Not really (though him kissing you through the frosting was definitely worth something!)

Was it worth the memory you’d only added to the vault as a family?

God, yes.

[vanteguccir]

can u do something w preggo reader c Chris? I barely find that on here😭 I was thinking like her and Chris trying her pregnancy cravings, also w slight angst like reader cry’s when Chris doesn’t like one, not bc her feelings are hurt it’s bc her hormones are crazy

── ୨୧ !　BLURB

chris sturniolo x pregnant!reader

where chris tries one of your weird pregnancy cravings and doesn't like it, causing you to cry ;(

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

It was the middle of the night, and the Sturniolo household was quiet, the only sound being the gentle hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. Y/N had woken up from a deep sleep, her body craving something she couldn’t quite put her finger on at first.

As she lay in bed next to Chris, who was softly snoring, it suddenly hit her; she needed something sweet, something salty, and something crunchy all at once. The craving was so intense that it was almost like a physical pull, dragging her out of the warmth of the bed and toward the kitchen.

She moved quietly through the dark stairs, her bare feet padding softly against the cool steps. The kitchen light flickered on, and she sighed in relief when she saw everything she needed waiting for her in the fridge and pantry.

Without wasting a second, she began grabbing ingredients: pickles, peanut butter, chocolate chips, and a bag of pretzels. It was an odd combination, one that might seem absurd to anyone else, but to her, it was exactly what she wanted. Pregnancy cravings were strange like that.

Once everything was spread out on the counter, she got to work, dipping pretzels into peanut butter, adding a pickle on top, and sprinkling chocolate chips over the whole thing like it was the finest gourmet meal.

She took a bite, closing her eyes as the salty, sweet, crunchy combination exploded in her mouth. It was perfect. The satisfaction that came from it made her feel warm and content as if this strange snack was the answer to all her problems.

Meanwhile, Chris stirred in bed, reaching out instinctively for Y/N only to find her side of the bed empty. His brow furrowed in sleepy confusion, and he blinked his eyes open, squinting at the dark room.

It wasn’t like her to get up in the middle of the night without telling him. His heart raced for a moment, thinking she might be feeling unwell. Without hesitating, he climbed out of bed and padded upstairs, following the soft light spilling from the room.

What he found when he walked into the living room wasn’t exactly what he had expected. There she was, standing in front of their kitchen counter, absolutely engrossed in her midnight snack creation. She was holding a pretzel covered in peanut butter, topped with a pickle, and sprinkled with chocolate chips, munching away, eyes half-closed in bliss, her baby bump peeking out from beneath her - his - oversized t-shirt.

Chris leaned against the white wall, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched her for a moment. She looked so happy, so completely lost in her strange concoction, and it made his heart swell with affection. Quietly, he walked over to her, slipping his arms around her waist from behind. His hands rested gently on her bump as he pressed a kiss to the side of her jaw, his stubble tickling her skin.

"What are you eating, babe?" He murmured, his voice deep and raspy from sleep.

Y/N jumped slightly, not having heard him come in, but she quickly relaxed into his embrace, a soft giggle escaping her lips.

"I had a craving." She mumbled through a mouthful of her snack, leaning back into him. "This is... the best thing I’ve ever tasted."

Chris chuckled, his breath warm against her skin as he kissed her jaw again.

"Is that so? You seem to be enjoying it." He teased, his hands caressing the soft curve of her belly, feeling the gentle flutter of their baby inside.

Y/N nodded enthusiastically, holding up a piece of the pretzel-pickle-peanut butter creation to him.

"You have to try it." She insisted, her eyes wide and earnest.

Chris hesitated for a second, eyeing the snack with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. He wasn’t sure if his stomach could handle the combination of flavors, but how could he say no to her when she looked so excited?

With a playful sigh, he leaned forward and took a bite, chewing slowly as he tried to process the flavors. His expression changed quickly, his brows knitting together, lips twitching as if trying to figure out how to politely respond. Y/N watched him eagerly, expecting him to love it as much as she did, but when he swallowed, he coughed and gave her a sheepish grin.

"Okay, yeah, that’s... interesting." He said, trying not to laugh. "But definitely not for me."

Y/N’s face fell instantly, her bottom lip trembling as a sudden wave of emotions hit her like a freight train. Her hormones were all over the place these days, and she couldn’t help it; tears started welling up in her eyes, her vision blurring.

"You didn’t like it?" She sniffed, voice quivering as she set the pretzels down on the counter.

Chris’s eyes widened, immediately panicking as he turned her body in a way that he could see her face, pulling her closer.

"Wait- no, no, babe, it’s not that! It’s just that my taste buds can’t handle the genius of your creation, that’s all. You’ve got, like, next-level cravings right now. I swear it’s brilliant."

But Y/N couldn’t stop the flood of tears from rolling down her cheeks, her hands coming up to cover her face.

"I just... I worked so hard on it, and it’s not even that good..." She sniffled again, feeling ridiculous for crying but unable to stop.

Chris gently encircled her wrists with his long fingers, pulling them away from her face just enough to cup her cheeks, brushing away her tears with his thumbs.

"Hey, honey, don’t cry, okay? It’s just my dumb taste buds. You’re amazing, and your creation is amazing. You could put together anything, and it would be a masterpiece to me." He kissed her forehead softly, his voice full of warmth and sincerity. "I just don’t have the refined palate you do."

Y/N looked up at him, sniffling but beginning to smile through her tears.

"You really think so?"

Chris smiled back, his nose brushing hers, his mustache tickling her upper lip softly.

"I know so. Besides, our baby probably loves it." He said, placing a hand gently on her belly. "They’re in there, enjoying every bite."

A soft laugh escaped Y/N as she wiped the last of her tears away, feeling lighter in his arms.

"Okay, maybe I overreacted a little."

"Not at all." Chris reassured her, his arms still wrapped around her. "You’re growing a whole human. You get to cry over midnight cravings. It’s part of the job."

She sighed contentedly, leaning into him as he kissed the top of her head.

"Thanks, Chris. I just feel so silly sometimes."

"You’re not silly." He murmured against her hair. "You’re perfect, and you’re carrying our little peanut. So, whatever you need, weird cravings and all, I’m here for it. Even if it means trying peanut butter and pickle pretzels at-" He looked quickly at the small clock glowing from their microwave. "3 AM."

Y/N smiled, feeling nothing but love in his words.

"I love you." She whispered softly, her heart swelling as she leaned into him fully, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her back.

Chris held her close, his right hand rubbing gentle circles on her lower back, calming the pain that he knew was there.

"I love you more." He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. "Both of you."

He watched as she extended her arm in a way that her hand could reach the food, taking another bite, clearly enjoying every second of her bizarre snack, and he couldn’t help but marvel at how much he adored her, pregnancy cravings and all.

"Come on." He whispered after noticing that she was slowly stopping eating. "Let’s get you and our little one back to bed."

Y/N smiled, cleaning her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Okay."

[angelfic]

— I MISS YOU, I’M SORRY.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

summary: you haven’t seen theo since he supposedly left you to join the other side. now that he’s back and has revealed his true intentions to you, you’re finding it hard to be forgiving.

warnings: swearing, kissing, tiniest bit of angst, very unedited. not much else other than a whole load of waffle… my bad

author’s note: this is a sort of fix-it fic… kinda. yes I am very much stealing the essence (you could say) from marauders fics because I prefer writing those and yes it’s basically this drabble recycled and yes grimmauld place is still the order headquarters well into the war just don’t question my timeline and you’ll be fine ok ty enjoy xoxo

12 Grimmauld place feels unsettling at the best of times, what with the portrait of Walburga Black hurling insults at you every time her curtain slips open and the row of shrunken house-elf heads mounted on the wall. The Order of the Phoenix holding hushed up meetings in the dining room while you and your friends are forced to stay upstairs isn’t anything new or surprising, but the last few days feel different.

Instead of Mrs Weasley telling members of the Order to whisper when you, her kids and Harry and Hermione are in the room, she flaps about ordering them to stop talking altogether. At first you think you’re imagining it when her eyes flick over to you every time, until you bring it up to Ginny and Hermione.

“You’re not imagining it,” Hermione mutters as she shuts the door of the bedroom and casts a quick Muffliato charm before settling cross legged on the bed opposite you and Ginny. “I overheard Mrs Weasley and Tonks in the kitchen this morning, talking about how the Order is arranging transport for some Death Eater spies to come back here.”

You gasp, pretending to be scandalised. “You mean you were evesdropping. That’s not very prefect-y of you.” Ginny snorts at Hermione’s indignant glare and you can’t help cracking a smile at the way her cheeks have slightly reddened. “Sorry, sorry, you know I’m kidding. But what’s that got to do with her looking at me like I’ve gone through a personal tragedy?”

“Your ex-boyfriend did leave you to go join the Death Eaters,” Ginny points out. Hermione gapes at her, but Ginny merely throws her hands up in exasperation. “Well, he did! No point beating around the bush!”

A lump rises in your throat at the mention of Theodore. Truth be told, you’ve tried not to think about what happened since the last time you spoke about him. ‘Spoke’ being a strong word since it was mostly crying and sniffling and blowing your nose into tissue after tissue in Ginny’s room at the Burrow. Mrs Weasley had made your favourite dinner that night and brought you up a hot chocolate to make you feel better. And it really had- so much so that you refused to speak about him since.

You’re more angry than you are sad now, which makes you nod at Ginny’s words. “You’re right. He’s an arsehole, there’s no point in tip-toeing around it for my sake.” Hermione frowns a little, worry clear as day on her face, but you don’t stop talking. “Besides, we’re on opposite sides and this is a war happening. Not some silly, childish break-up. He chose to be a Death Eater and if we have to fight him, so be it.”

Hermione and Ginny stay quiet for a few seconds and watch you breathe heavily. Thankfully, before either of them can speak, Harry and Ron come bursting into the room.

“They’ve only gone and brought Death Eaters into the bloody building!” Ron shakes his head.

Harry snorts at Ron’s dramatics. “Ex-Death Eaters. Apparently. Still a bit dodgy, in fairness.”

“I thought they were spies,” you say, unable to help your curiosity as you stand up. Ginny and Hermione follow you out of the room as you all peak over the bannister to try and get a glimpse of the action downstairs. Annoyingly, there only seem to be a couple of dishevelled looking Order members milling around.

“Maybe Mrs Weasley and Tonks got it mixed up, or maybe they aren’t privy to what’s going on…” Hermione frowns, deep in thought. “I don’t think anyone but Dumbledore knows what’s actually going on.”

Harry makes an irritated sound. “What’s new?”

“Oh, by the way, Mum sent us up to get you lot for dinner,” Ron says absentmindedly as he tries to get a good look over your shoulder at whatever is happening in the hall downstairs. “Mind you, that was before all the Death Eater business so she’ll probably send us right back up.”

The five of you quickly shuffle downstairs to get to the dining room and while your stomach is growling loud enough to forget any thoughts of Order business, Ron and Harry linger in the hall a little in an attempt to get some answers. You don’t doubt Harry will get some, being the Chosen One and all.

You nudge and elbow your way into the dining room where you’re happily surprised to see a messy-haired Tonks yawning over a bowl of soup. She smiles sleepily when she spots the three of you.

“Hi, girls,” she mumbles through a yawn. “Merlin, I’m exhausted. I keep falling asleep in my soup. Good thing it’s mushroom.” She points to her newly platinum blonde hair that matches the contents of her bowl.

“Why’re you so tired?” Hermione asks as she ladles some soup into bowls for you, Ginny and herself. Her voice is quiet as not to attract attention from Mrs Weasley with her questioning. “Is it to do with tonight’s, uh, Order business?”

“Yep.”

Tonks looks as though she’s about to drift off and Ginny seems to jump at the opportunity to gather information.

“So, what are their names?” She gets straight to the point, glaring at you when you choke on your soup a little, not expecting her to be so blunt.

You and Hermione stop eating and wait with bated breath for Tonks to refuse to answer. She merely yawns again, before talking. “You’ll meet them soon enough.”

“Meet them?” you ask, unable to help yourself. “Aren’t they… uh, you know… dangerous?”

“Dumbledore doesn’t seem to think so,” Tonks says, shrugging. You grow a little frustrated at this, since Dumbledore isn’t exactly known for having straightforward plans. While you know his intentions are good, someone he thinks is safe could very well be the opposite. While you ponder this, Tonks’ next words quickly turn your irritation into shock. “The others were understandably quite wary, what with one of them being You-Know-Who’s son and everything, but…”

You feel a ringing in your ear and every word coming from Tonks may as well be directed to her mushroom soup because you aren’t listening anymore. You-Know-Who’s son. You haven’t seen Mattheo since term ended, and even then it was only from a distance. You hadn’t spoken to him since Theo revealed his Dark Mark to you and you’d since avoided his entire friend group like the plague. If Mattheo is in the building, you can only hope and pray that Theodore isn’t with him.

Vaguely aware of someone shaking you by the shoulder, you snap out of your thoughts. “Who else is with Mattheo?” you ask Tonks, your voice sounding rough to your own ears. She blinks through her sleepiness, slightly startled awake by your unwavering eye contact. “Voldemort’s son. Who’s with him? What do they look like?”

You’re so focused on getting an answer from Tonks, and Hermione and Ginny are clearly on the same page as you now since they’re both silent and waiting for a response, that none of you notice Mrs Weasley entering the dining room.

“Tonks, is he blonde or-?”

“Enough!” Mrs Weasley interrupts you hastily, making everyone jump. She sounds panicked, but the look she throws Tonks is stern, like a warning to keep silent. When she turns back to you however, her eyes soften and her voice is gentle, albeit with a hint of annoyance. “I asked Dumbledore not to bring them here while everyone was awake. I didn’t want you all upset again, dear. Look, you can have your dinner upstairs, I’ll bring it up to you!”

You’re grateful for her concern, but it’s a little hard to feel anything other than the pit in your stomach since she’s just confirmed what you were dreading.

Ginny speaks up first, angry on your behalf. “Mum, she deserves to know if that awful git is in the same house as her! I say she ought to go and deck him in the face.”

“Ginny!” Hermione looks at her in exasperation as Mrs Weasley gasps, horrified. “That sort of attitude isn’t going to help anyone.”

“You’re right,” you mumble, getting up from your seat.

Hermione lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”

“I should go and deck him in the face.”

Hermione’s sputtering falls to deaf ears as you abruptly leave your seat to go out into the hall, the scraping of chairs behind you indicating that everyone is following closely.

Realistically, you have no plans to actually hit Theodore. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever successfully landed a punch before in your life. This doesn’t stop you charging into the hallway and elbowing your way through the huddle of Order members to get to the door they seem to be crowded around.

Kingsley Shacklebolt is the last of them to stumble out of your way, clearly too surprised by your sudden presence to continue guarding the door. You raise a shaky hand to the doorknob and hesitate for a second, suddenly nervous. Kingsley takes this moment to snap out of his surprise and redirects his attentions to what you’re about to do next.

“My dear, I’m afraid I can’t allow you to-”

“Kingsley, do you have any idea why I’m standing here?” you say curtly, cutting him off.

He throws a quick glance at Mrs Weasley, almost as if it’s by reflex. Clearly she’s told more people than Dumbledore to keep word of Theodore far from you. “I, uhm, I may have heard a thing or two…”

“Right, so are you going to stop me entering this room, then?” you ask boldly. Your voice catches slightly on the end of your sentence and Kingsley falters a little.

“Well, really I should-“ he begins, eyes darting to your own slightly teary ones. He sighs. “No, I’m not. Just try not to hex the boy.”

He steps out of your way and you finally barge into room, the door swinging open as you stay lingering near the entrance. The room is just as dingy as the rest of the house, lit up by some candles dotted around the room

You first see Professor McGonagall getting up abruptly from her chair where she was previously sat next to a standing Dumbledore. He merely peers at you over his half moon spectacles and raises his eyebrows.

You suddenly feel a little silly, and rude for barging in like that. “Sorry, Professor Dumbledore, I-“

You stop talking when see movement on the other side of the room from the corner of your eye. Just as Tonks had said, Mattheo Riddle, son of Lord Voldemort is standing right there, flanked by Lorenzo Berkshire… and Theodore. Your mouth goes dry.

As soon as you catch his eye, he smiles broadly at you. You don’t return the gesture, taking his appearance in instead. He’s thinner than the last time you saw him. No visible injuries, but he’s definitely seen better days. His dirty blonde hair is overgrown and unruly as it falls into his eyes which, despite brightening up at your presence, are tired.

You keep your expression as impassive as you can, slightly angry with yourself at the twinge of concern you feel. It was all well and good interrupting whatever meeting was happening in here before you came in, but now that you’re here… you have no idea what to do or say.

Theo’s smile falters when you continue to stand there with clenched fists and a stony face and you’re tempted to just run out of the room when Dumbledore clears his throat.

“Well,” your Headmaster says pleasantly, as though you were all engaged in polite conversation rather than a strained silence. “This reunion was certainly a little earlier than anticipated, but I suppose that can’t be helped. I think we ought to give Mr Nott and Miss Y/L/N a moment alone.”

“Uh, can’t we stay in here too?” Lorenzo asks with a nervous chuckle, eyes darting to the watchful crowd standing right outside the door. You can’t blame him for wary, being an ex-Death Eater in a house full of Order members.

Mattheo nods, throwing an arm around Theodore’s shoulder, ignoring the glare he receives. “Yeah. These two won’t mind a bit of company. Right?” he asks you cheerfully. You blink at him.

“Relax, Berkshire,” Professor McGonagall says, rolling her eyes at the way Lorenzo has inched further into the room. She snaps her fingers to get them moving out the door. “Nobody is going to hex you, you silly boy.”

“Can’t say the same for Theo,” Mattheo mutters as he walks past you and follows everyone out, shutting the door.

You don’t really have any choice but to look at Theo now. He tries a smile again, despite the fact you’re not returning it and he takes a step towards you.

You immediately step back.

Theo flinches ever so slightly, his eyes unable to hide that he’s hurt.

Good, you think viciously.

Sighing, he looks at you imploringly like he wants to say something, but can’t find the words. “You’re angry with me,” he settles on muttering, his voice quiet in the dark room.

You let out a derisive laugh. “Angry? You worked that out, huh? Death-Eater’s didn’t completely addle your brain then, did they?”

“Darling, please let me explain,” Theo pleads, taking another few steps towards you.

Rather than stepping back, you whip out your wand and point it right at him. He doesn’t back away, merely raising his hands in surrender and arching an eyebrow as if to ask you if you’re serious. This angers you further.

“Do not call me darling,” you hiss, raising your wand further. Theo doesn’t react, as though he knows you’d never actually use magic to hurt him. Your hand trembles with the weight of the realisation that no, you wouldn’t hurt him. That you’ve actually been more worried that becoming a Death Eater would get him hurt than him betraying you. He left you with nothing but a cold goodbye and you still can’t help caring.

Feeling stupid, and a little bit pathetic, you drop your hand to your side and allow him to continue standing before you as he lowers his hands. You grit your teeth and cross your arms. “Explain.”

Theo lets out a relieved breath. “I never wanted to leave you,” he says, and you immediately roll your eyes. “I- no, look at me. I didn’t.”

“That doesn’t explain the fact that you did,” you deadpan, turning away to leave. Theo quickly reaches out to grasp both of your arms and gently turns you towards him.

You stiffen at the first physical contact you’ve had with him in months, your body betraying you and erupting goosebumps all over your arms in spite of your anger.

“I lied about it to protect you,” he whispers, peering at you through the strands of hair that are stubbornly falling into his eyes from weeks of neglect. Theo looks slightly pained and you recognise his expression to mean that he’s desperately trying to phrase his next words correctly. His eyes flick over to your right arm. No. To his left wrist, where you know his Dark Mark to be. “You can ask Dumbledore if you don’t believe me… Me and the others only ever took the Mark so we’d be able to spy on The D- on him.”

The relief hits you like a freight train and lightens your heavy chest all in one go. You hadn’t just felt betrayed by your boyfriend leaving you all those months ago. You had felt dread at the possibility of him joining a Pureblood supremacist’s cult. Dread at the idea that the views he’d shared with you were all lies and that he was a completely difference person to the one you loved.

Despite the relief, the sting of the breakup still lingers with you.

“That meant you had to be a prick when you left me?” you ask, voice shaking against your will. His eyes soften.

“Yes,” he says weakly. “How else could I have left you without worrying that… that he could use you against me if he found me out? I never wanted to take the Mark and it killed me when I saw the look on your face.”

Your scowl, trying your best to distract Theodore from the fact that your vision has gone blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes. By the look on his face, you doubt you’re doing a very good job. “Do you really think I would have cared about a fucking tattoo, if you had just told me the truth?”

“No, I know,” Theo sighs, absentmindedly drawing closer to you. “I’ll explain anything you want, but the work we did was too close to The Dark Lord to risk telling anyone about at the time. Dumbledore made me, Mattheo and Enzo swear not to say anything. It was safer that way.”

“Did you make an Unbreakable Vow?” you whisper, stiller than ever.

Theo furrows his brows. “No, but-”

You pull away from him abruptly and back away to the door, ignoring the way his hands reach out in an attempt to hold your arms again. “Then I hope the information you got for Dumbledore was worth it.”

You don’t look back at him, nor do you check to see if anyone is in the hallway as you run upstairs and into your room, slamming the door shut as you lean against it, breathing heavily. You stay there for a while, reeling from your anger and irritation at the fact you still have to stay in this bloody house while Theodore’s in it.

The next few days are confusing to say the least. Theo doesn’t seem to have any plans to avoid you, but he respects your space.

Sort of.

He isn’t badgering you every second of the day, but somehow whichever room you’re in, he finds himself in as well. Whenever you try and reach for something, even if it’s not on a particularly high shelf, or particularly far away, Theo beats you to it, ever the gentleman.

It’s starting to unnerve you a little.

One particular afternoon, you walk into the kitchen hoping to make a cup of tea in peace. At the table sits Theo, a cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. When he spots you, he sits up straighter and you dawdle stupidly at the entrance.

Before you can snap out of it and remember what you came in here for, Theo gets up and walks over to the mugs. “Tea?” he asks politely, and, you think, a little hopefully.

“Will you make it and let me drink it alone?” you ask bluntly.

“I’ll make it and sit with you in silence,” he offers, undeterred despite your coldness.

Narrowing your eyes, you glance at the clock and sigh. It’s too early in the morning to put off having your tea, so you allow it. “Fine. Milk and-”

“Two sugars,” he cuts you off with an annoyingly smug smile. “I remember.”

You poke your cheek with your tongue, but stay silent as he turns his attentions to the kettle. Theo’s face quickly falls when he realises he has no idea how to use it. Your impassive expression almost cracks and you have to bite back a laugh as he examines the thing. Walking over to the counter, you drag the kettle so that it’s closer to you. And so you don’t have to be as close to Theo, but that’s besides the point.

“It’s already filled with water, you just need to flip the switch so it starts boiling,” you explain, pointing to the little part. Theo places his cigarette in between his lips as he furrows his brows, clearly skeptical of the muggle contraption. You suppose you can’t blame him since you, Hermione and Harry have had to explain the kettle to countless members of the Order since it was introduced to the house a few months ago.

You still don’t know where the plug socket is and considering the fact that Grimmauld Place has never inhabited muggles, you aren’t going to bother asking.

When Theo flicks the switch and sees the light turn red, a satisfied smile graces his lips where the cigarette still hangs. You look away from his mouth very quickly and go to sit down. Unable to leave without making things awkward, you decide the only thing to do is watch Theo make two cups of tea. He doesn’t need instruction since he knows exactly how you like it, but something catches in your throat when he uses a green mug. Your favourite colour.

The only sound in the kitchen is the clink of the spoon swirling in the cups and Theo soon brings both cups over with an incredibly concentrated frown to make sure there’s no spillages as he sets one down on the table. The other he hands to you himself and you have to clench your jaw when you grab it, your own hands brushing against his, which he doesn’t seem to be in a rush to move away.

“Thanks,” you mutter, trying to use the burning heat of the mug against your skin to distract from the fact that you have tingles.

“S’alright,” he replies, a barely restrained grin on his face. You narrow your eyes at him over the rim of the mug as you sip your tea.

Damn, you think to yourself. Why is it always so good when he makes it?

The two of you settle into a surprisingly comfortable silence as you drink your tea and he smokes. The puffs are very carefully directed away from you, but you can’t help wrinkling your nose out of habit. Back when you were still together, you were always firm about him cutting down and now you have to restrain yourself from reaching over and plucking the cigarette out of his lips to throw it away like you used to do with ease. He never objected.

Theo notices your looks all the same, and it’s almost like he’s reading your thoughts. He raises a brow, almost daring you to remove the cigarette yourself. “You want me to stop?”

“I don’t care,” you say in an attempt to sound nonchalant. Shrugging, you try your hardest not to react to his obvious bait, but it’s like a bloody reflex. “It’s your lungs on the line, not mine. If you want to lose five years off your life, then by all means, go ahead. I really couldn’t care-”

“As you wish,” he interrupts you, grinning like an idiot again. The next thing you know, he’s putting out the cigarette, and sipping his tea instead. He doesn’t even like tea.

“I didn’t say you had to stop,” you grumble, slightly pleased nonetheless.

He merely hums, taking a gulp of his tea. You accidentally let out a snort of laughter when he grimaces at the taste. Theo’s lips quirk up in amusement when you laugh, unrestrained and it’s only when you catch him staring at you that you quickly stop.

The smug expression on his face quickly returns as though he knows you’re finding it hard to be fully angry at him.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you snap, drawing your knees up on your chair towards your chin. “You look stupid. And your hair is too long.”

Theo huffs out a surprised laugh. “My hair is too long?” he asks incredulously, reaching up to tug a piece down so it reaches the bottom of his nose. “Hm, you’re right. You cut it pretty good that one time. Would you do it again for me?”

“Mrs Weasley is better at it,” you say, chin jutting out stubbornly. “I’m sure she’d be delighted if you just ask.”

“The way she looks at me, I’d be lucky to get away with my head still attached to my body,” he drawls, wholly unimpressed by your suggestion. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Because I’m not done being angry with you yet,” you reply simply, draining the contents of your mug. “Trust me when I say you don’t want me anywhere near your head with a pair of scissors either.”

Theo nods slowly, a smile gracing his lips— strange, since you just threatened physical violence. “So, what I’m hearing is that you’re not going to be angry with me forever.”

“I- Well, I didn’t mean-” you stutter pointlessly, cutting yourself off with a sigh. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early for this, leave me alone.”

“That was the first cigarette I’ve had since before I left,” Theo says quietly, searching your face for a reaction, almost nervously.

You aren’t quite sure how to respond to this random piece of information and you find yourself floundering. “Uhm. Okay, good. That’s… Yeah, that’s great for you and your lungs, well done. Saves money too. They were actually, uh, saying on the news the other day that the average amount people spend on-”

“Darling, as much as I appreciate it, that’s not what I’m getting at,” he interrupts, the ghost of a smirk at his lips. You scowl at him for letting you go on for so long and motion for him to get to the bloody point. “Every time I brought a cigarette to my lips, I remembered you weren’t going to be there to nag me about it. It just feels pointless now.”

You stare at him. “Nice to know that my nagging was what you remembered me by.”

“That’s not-” Theo cuts himself off with a laugh that sounds halfway to a groan. “Merlin, you’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can get a word out, Harry walks in which you find odd considering it’s so early in the morning and him and Ron are usually only out of bed when Mrs Weasley yells them down for breakfast.

“Morning,” he says through a yawn. The greeting is directed at you, but he sends an expectant look at Theo right after. “Time to leave, Nott.

“Leave for where?” you ask before you can help yourself. You realise with a start that Harry and Theo are dressed and ready while you’re still in your pyjamas. “Where do you have to go?”

“Horcrux hunting,” Harry says flippantly, as though he’s just announced he’s going fishing. Hermione had filled you in on the information Theo and the others had ascertained from their time with Voldemort, but you didn’t even consider them or Harry would actually be going with the Order to find them. “Nott and the others know more than we do, so they’re coming with.”

You level a look at Theo, who seems to be pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. “Thanks for sharing that tiny tidbit of information, by the way,” you mutter sourly.

He winces, getting up slowly from his chair. “It, uh, didn’t seem that important. It’s only a quick little task anyway. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’m not stupid,” you scoff, standing up so you can attempt to look a little more dignified as you confront Theo. Harry, on the other hand, looks as though he regrets his decision to enter the kitchen in the first place. Despite this, you hadn’t missed the way he furrowed his brows when Theo spoke. “Even if Harry wasn’t looking at you like you were speaking gibberish, I would know that you’re lying. It’s a Horcrux you’re leaving to get. Not the weekly food shop.”

Harry snickers at this, though quickly turns it into a cough when Theo sends him a withering glare. Sighing, you decide to ignore him for the moment and turn to Harry instead

“Be safe,” you say, gentler than before. “And don’t be a hero, just try and get out of there safely.”

“Pfft,” Harry waves you off, a sarcastic tone entering his voice. “When have you known me to do that?”

You roll your eyes, cracking a smile as he walks away, supposedly to find the rest of the group.

“Don’t I get a ‘be safe’ as well?” Theo tries for a casual, joking voice. A hint of irritation seeps through it though. You shift on your feet a little awkwardly, slightly flustered at his obvious jealousy.

“Uhm, okay. Bye,” you say stiffly, fiddling with the loose string of your cardigan sleeve so you have something to do with your hands other than ball them up at your sides. Theo seems to be satisfied with the curt response, or more likely your lack of insults, and he nods, turning away to leave. As you watch him walk away, a familiar sense of anxiety bubbles up in your stomach and you blurt out the only thing you can think of. “Don’t die!”

He slowly turns around, very clearly holding back a grin. You think you might thump the boy. “Will you forgive me if I come back alive?”

“Well,” you huff, crossing your arms. As petty as it may be, you’ve always found it hard to loosen a grudge. You settle for a shrug instead. “Come back alive first and then I’ll see.”

Theo takes two steps forward and closes the short distance that was previously allowing you to keep a cool- well, cool-ish, head. He keeps both arms behind his back, however, as he dips his head down slightly.

“My sweet, stubborn girl,” Theo says in a low voice. His proximity flounders you for a moment and you don’t even protest that no, you’re not his anything. The way your breathing turns shallow would be contradicting that greatly though. “I’ll try my best. And if I don’t come back alive, I promise you can yell at my ghost.”

You scowl, and this time you actually do thump him on the arm. “You’re not funny, you idiot. Now, go. I can already hear Mattheo irritating the patience out of Harry.”

Theo gives you a little two-fingered salute and a wink before he walks away again, leaving you alone with a funny feeling in settling in your stomach.

You aren’t the only one who sits anxiously in the living room waiting for the group to return with the infamous Horcrux. Ron has eaten his way through three bowls of cereal and rapidly makes a start on his fourth while Hermione tries to distract herself with reading a book that she hasn’t noticed is upside down.

After another hour goes by, Ginny, who was previously pacing up and down the stairs, sighs and turns Hermione’s book the right way up which startles her, causing her to give up altogether.

You sit cross-legged and completely still, other than switching your legs every time one of them goes numb. Eventually, you get so sick of watching Mrs Weasley mop over the same spot on the floor for the fifth time that you jump up from your seat, causing her to start and knock over the bucket of dirty mop water all over the floor.

“Oh, dear,” she mutters, waving her wand and siphoning all the water up in a second.

“Sorry, Mrs Weasley,” you say, wincing. “I’m just a little stressed since it’s been ages already-”

You get cut off by Hermione gasping at the sound of the front door opening along with voices. She grips your arm tightly. “They’re back!”

Barely registering the pain of her nails digging into the skin of your arm, you waste no time in running into the hall with the others to greet everyone at the door. You can’t help the relieved smile on your face when you do a quick head count and find everyone present.

As you get closer, you see how exhausted they look. Not to mention the fact they’re dripping water all over the rug. Harry stands at the front of the group looking like he might collapse if he stands any longer and Hermione and Ron pick up on this as they rush over to help him inside.

As they stumble him across the hall, you stop craning your neck as Theo comes into view. The relief you previously felt leaves you faster than your body knows how to deal with and you have to force yourself to breathe when you take in the state of him.

At first glance he doesn’t look particularly worse than the rest. They all have a vaguely haunted look in their eyes along with a sickly pallor like they haven’t seen the sun in days.

But the way Mattheo and Lorenzo are holding him up brings attention to the fact that all of his weight is being put on one leg. The other, to your horror, has a deep, bloody gash trailing down his thigh and onto his calf. The sight of blood steadily dripping onto the floor below has you frozen, almost mesmerised in a terrible way, and it’s not until Dumbledore speaks that you snap out of it and to attention.

“Miss Y/L/N, if you could please fetch Madam Pomfrey for me,” Dumbledore asks, his voice a lot calmer than you feel. You nod, turning away quickly before Theo can see the panic which is probably clear as day on your face.

It takes a scary second to find Madam Pomfrey, but as soon as you do, she gets down to business preparing her supplies in the living room which is as far as Theo seems to be able to make it.

He lays on the sofa, breathing shallowly as Madam Pomfrey crouches down beside him to begin assessing the wound. Peering at it closely, she looks up at Dumbledore sharply. “Inferi?”

“I’m afraid so,” he replies solemnly and you let out a choked sort of whimper.

“Merlin,” Ron whispers, looking like he might be sick. Whether that’s because Madam Pomfrey is cleaning Theo’s leg, or because of the mention of Inferi, you aren’t sure. “What the hell were you guys doing?”

“All will be explained, Mr Weasley,” Dumbledore reassures him, looking over his spectacles. “However, I must insist that for now we allow dear Madam Pomfrey to tend to Mr Nott’s injuries.”

“Will you be able to heal him?” Mattheo asks, swallowing hard. The concern in his voice for his best friend has your heart clenching and you look to Madam Pomfrey just as earnestly for an answer.

“Yes, I dare say I can,” Madam Pomfrey says grimly, but she pulls out a couple little bottle of potions from her bag with a frown. “That doesn’t mean it won’t be extremely painful, unfortunately.”

“Can’t imagine what pain feels like,” Theo mumbles, shifting his position on the sofa slightly and wincing. His face goes whiter than before and he shuts his eyes tightly from the pain, but he still manages to talk, however hard it may be. “Not like I’ve just had Inferi mistaking my leg for their lunch.”

“No talking and no moving,” Madam Pomfrey instructs Theo, sending him a stern glare.

“Sorry-”

“Shhh!” you hiss, giving him a glare of your own. Theo’s eyes flutter open slightly and his lips quirk up when he sees you leaning over him as close as you can get without Madam Pomfrey shooing you away.

His smile quickly drops when Madam Pomfrey pours some purple liquid into the open wound, causing it to hiss and smoke. The groan that leaves Theo has you holding your breath and you fight the urge to shut your eyes and turn away.

“Merlin, I can’t watch,” Lorenzo gags, his skin turning even sicklier than before. Turning away, he holds onto Mattheo’s shoulder to steady himself, the latter looking more interested than anything as he peers at Theo’s sizzling cut. Lorenzo shakes his head and holds a hand over his mouth every time he can hear Madam Pomfrey pouring more of the potion. “Oh, God, that’s disgusting.”

“Mr Berkshire, if you are unable to watch, then don’t,” Madam Pomfrey snaps, screwing the bottle shut and grabbing another one. She waves her hand in an impatient shooing motion. “In fact, everyone out. Now! This isn’t a Quidditch match, for heaven’s sake!”

Dumbledore starts filing everyone out and you consider staying for a minute but Madam Pomfrey’s raised eyebrows have you hurtling out of the room with everyone else. Theo starts to say something, but a drop of something else makes him grit his teeth and the green smoke produced by the potion follows you out the door.

The next hour or so is filled with Harry, Mattheo and Lorenzo being fussed over by Mrs Weasley, who insists on them going up to bed once they’ve cleaned up and changed into dry clothing. Unfortunately for the rest of you, this means you won’t be getting an update any time soon. Dumbledore is, as always these days, nowhere to be seen.

“I wonder if they found the Horcrux,” you say under your breath to Hermione as she anxiously taps her foot against the kitchen floor.

“They did,” she says grimly, glancing impatiently at the clock. She has her thinking face on, brows furrowed and gaze distant. “It was in a cave in the middle of nowhere. Harry quickly told me before Mrs Weasley sent them off. I wonder when they’ll wake up though… They didn’t look too happy, and I have a feeling it wasn’t all to do with Nott.”

You nod slowly, a weight lifting off your chest despite the last part. If, after all this, they hadn’t retrieved the Horcrux, you think you’d probably have gone to the bloody cave yourself.

“Theodore’s resting now, anyway,” Hermione adds, giving you a quick glance as though she’s waiting for a reaction. You keep your face as impassive as you can, attempting a casual nod. “Madam Pomfrey says he’s healing nicely and his leg will be fine. It’ll just be a bit sore for a few days. I’m sure he’s awake if you want to go see him.”

“I might,” you mumble, shrugging. You try to sound flippant, but the urge to clamber out of your seat probably shows because Hermione rolls her eyes at you.

“Oh, why don’t you just put him out of his misery?” she asks, her words coming out at the speed of light, like she’s been wanting to say it for a while. You blink at her in shock. Sighing, she leans over the table and her tone becomes gentle. “I know he lied to you, and you should be angry with him for that! But… well, it’s been a really awkward few days with him asking us where you are every second of the day. And, technically, he was never really a Death Eater, he was helping our side!”

Hermione takes a deep breath and exhales, slumping back in her seat as she waits for your reaction. You try not to laugh. “How long have you been holding that one in?”

“Since the second he turned up here,” she says, sagely. “Now, don’t change the subject! Go and see him. Go on, off you go!”

You stand up, swiftly dodging Hermione’s flapping hands to try and rush you out the door. “Okay, I’m going. It’s probably about time anyway,” you grumble, a fond smile creeping up on you nonetheless.

Looking satisfied, Hermione stops trying to usher you out and you make your way over to the living room again. The door is open and you sigh with relief when you notice the room is empty, bar Theo who’s in the same position as he was the last time you saw him. His eyes are shut and you wonder if he’s sleeping until you step on a creaky floorboard and he cracks one eye open.

“Hey,” you say quietly, tip-toeing into the room to perch on the coffee table adjacent to the sofa. “Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” Theo replies, moving to sit up as much as he can. You suspect he’d have the same answer even if he was asleep. He looks a lot more awake than he did before and you feel your chest squeeze tightly when you realise how glad you are. Theo seems to notice this and he reaches over to hold one of your hands, detaching it from the way you grasp them both together. “I promised you I’d come back alive, didn’t I?”

You snort, shaking your head at his ability to be so chipper. “Alive and dripping blood all over the carpet. You know if Kreacher finds out it was you, he’ll murder you in your sleep, right?”

“It doesn’t count if I die now,” Theo protests, frowning as if you’re talking about a serious possibility and not joking. “Deal was you’d forgive me if I came back alive after finding the Horcrux, remember?”

“Hm,” you hum, pretending to think deeply about it as he rubs circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. It causes you to momentarily lose your focus. “What I remember saying is that I would think about it.”

Theo shakes his head, a look of mock concern overtaking his features. “I think the stress of my injury has gotten to your memory… What I remember is you vowing to forgive me the moment I stepped foot in this place.”

“I think Madam Pomfrey’s painkillers are getting to you,” you say drily, moving to kneel on the floor next to him.

“She didn’t use any,” Theo grumbles, looking mournfully at the bandages on his leg. “She’s really sadistic, I’m telling you.”

You laugh, ducking your head so you aren’t flustered by the way Theo’s eyes focus on your smile with a grin of his own.

“You know what she told me would help with the pain?” Theo asks quietly, his enviously long eyelashes fanning over his cheekbones as he looks down at you, almost nervously.

“Let me guess,” you say, sitting up so the distance between your faces is much shorter now. “A kiss to make it all better?”

“Healer’s orders,” he says, shrugging. His breathing quickens when you don’t move away and he swallows hard, eyes dropping lower to your mouth when you bite your lip to stop from cracking a smile. “I’m not saying you have to, but if you’re okay with going directly against her orders, then-”

You cut him off by pressing a lingering kiss to his lips and he inhales sharply, unmoving for a split second before parting his lips and deepening the kiss. Theo’s hands move to your waist where he uses his remaining strength to hoist you up onto the sofa next him, one of your legs thrown over his waist as you half-straddle him.

You gasp into his mouth when he nips at your bottom lip and the sound he makes in the back of his throat has your cheeks warming up and you kiss him harder. The fact it’s been so long since you’ve even been near him has you both kissing for what feels like hours and you only pull away when you need to breathe and you’re worried you’re leaning on Theo’s leg.

Pulling away, you scan Theo’s face and pause for a second to take in his beautiful features. His eyes are blown wide like he can’t believe he’s here with you, kissing you. A warm feeling starting in your stomach spreads all the way down to the tips of your fingers as he looks at you.

“Any other very important requests from the Healer?” you ask breathlessly, feeling a shiver run down your spine where Theo lightly skims his fingers. A dangerous smile overtakes his face and his lips, pink and swollen from kissing you, curve up, causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

“I think she mentioned something about a sponge bath?”

You whack his arm and he yelps, grabbing your wrist to stop you assaulting him further. “Hey, I’m an injured patient!”

“Your leg is injured, not your arm.”

“It is now,” he says, pouting as he rubs dramatically at his bicep where you lightly thumped him. He grumbles when you roll your eyes and press another kiss to his lips to get him to stop pouting. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Hm,” you hum, settling your face in his chest and sighing at the warmth of his arms, feeling him smile against your forehead where he kisses you.

© angelfic 2023.

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely! Me again but with an actual request this time 😭😭 would you be able to write poly!marauders with reader who just got their wisdom teeth out and they’re all taking her home and taking care of her while she’s all loopy and hyped up on pain meds. I think it’d be so silly and cute. Only if you want to though! Much love and thanks!

-🍓

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: mention of blood, effects of anesthesia

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Sirius had offered to be the one to drive you, but no one had let him because of how upset you all knew he’d get. As soon as you come through the door, Remus knows they’d made the right decision. 

“I know, darling,” James' voice is low, sympathetic, and a bit panicked, “but I promise you can have them in a couple of days, alright?”

Sirius leaves the dishwater to get cold, beelining for the front door. Remus is hot on his tail. They find James kneeling in front of you, untying your shoes while tears dribble off your chin and into his hair.

“I can make you a smoothie, or mashed potatoes, or any non-solid your heart desires.” He turns his head, mouthing help. 

Your face only crumples miserably, and James looks nearly like he might cry too but Sirius comes to his rescue. 

“Hey, sweet girl.” He palms the back of your head, careful of your face as he tilts it up towards him. “What’s got you so wound up, huh?” 

“He won’t let me have marshmallows,” you cry, words all garbled by the gauze in your mouth. 

“So mean,” Sirius commiserates. “I’ll do you one better and make you a chocolate milk, how’s that sound?” 

Your tears dry instantly. James lifts your ankle to take off your shoe, and you grip Sirius’ arms, beaming up at him. Or beaming as best you can, with your mouth all numb and full of cotton. 

“That sounds amazing,” you sigh, blissful. 

Sirius grins right back at you, his hand coasting down your neck and back up again. Remus can tell he’s dying to touch your face the way he normally would, but he restrains himself. “You’ve got a deal,” he says as James pries off your other shoe. “Come watch me work.” 

He steers you toward the kitchen, Remus passing a hand over your head as you go by. You give him a sweet, lovelorn look in return. 

“Can she have her gauze out soon?” he asks James once you’re in the kitchen. 

He sets your shoes by the door. “Yeah, it should be fine by now. They said a half hour.” James leans against the couch and passes a hand over his face. He looks so worn out Remus can’t help but cross the room to him, taking his hand and kissing it lightly.

“Was she very upset the whole time?” he asks.

“No, she’s been all over the place. Far worse than you, though.” 

Remus feels heat rise to his face at the memory. He’d had his wisdom teeth out last summer and reportedly spent the rest of the day clinging to whoever was nearest, grousing about how tired he was but never actually going to sleep. 

“Oh, uh…” James digs in his pocket. A few receipts and a dime come out, then a small bottle of pills. “They said she should start on these once she got home, but I can’t get them open. Can you try?” 

“Mhm.”

“Thanks.” James’ eyes widen, and he rushes off to the kitchen, saying something to Sirius about how they can’t let you use a straw. Remus follows a few steps behind, reading the label of the pill bottle before twisting the top off. It was childproofed, bless him. 

When he enters the kitchen, Sirius has you sat up on the counter and is poking around in your mouth. He takes out the gauze carefully, one piece at a time, and sets it on the counter. Remus makes a mental note to deep-clean that later. Your eyes follow Sirius’ movements, slowly widening. 

“Is all that blood from me?” Your voice carries a slight quiver. 

“That?” Sirius says swiftly. “No, that’s old blood. You’re good as new now.” 

“Oh,” you breathe, deflating a bit in relief. Remus chuckles, and your eyes fly to him, lighting. “Rem!” 

You open your arms wide. He steps into them, raising his eyebrows at James as you grip his shoulders tightly. 

“Told you,” James stage-whispers. “All over the place.” 

“I can hear you,” you say, words muffled into Remus’ sweater. He pets the back of your head pacifyingly. 

“How are you, sweetheart?” 

You take some time to mull this over. “M’okay,” you decide. “I’m a little sad they had to take my tongue, but it could be worse I guess.” 

“They didn’t take your tongue,” James says, like it’s not the first time he’s had to tell you this, “you just had some teeth removed.” 

“They’re dismantling me,” you say morosely. It’s clear you’ve accepted your fate. 

Remus strokes your hair again, leaning away slightly so you’ll look up at him. You do, and even with your glassed-over eyes and puffy cheeks you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen. 

“I’m glad you’re not hurting too badly,” he hums, cupping the side of your head. You smile dopily and lean into the touch. “I’ve got a pill that’ll help make sure you don’t hurt later, too.” 

Sirius passes you your chocolate milk so you can take it, and James clucks about how you need to take slow, careful sips all the way until you’ve drained the glass. As soon as it’s out of your grasp you’ve replaced it with Remus’ hand, your fingers tracing the lines of his palm with idle fascination. 

“Feel like watching a film?” he asks you softly. 

You hum. “That sounds nice. Can I have the fuzzy pillow because they’re taking me apart?” 

Remus huffs a laugh, and James groans. “Nobody’s taking you apart, darling,” he reasons. “The dentist only took the unimportant bits.” 

“Bit by bit,” you sigh. 

James looks in distress, so Remus takes the crook of his elbow in hand, squeezing lightly as Sirius eases you off the counter and into his hold. Remus thinks you’ll be lucky if he releases you before tomorrow. 

“You can have all the pillows if you want them,” Sirius promises you. “My poor girl, being taken apart bit by bit. You can have whatever you want.”

[buckyalpine]

Hello Shay ! I’ve been loving the civilian!reader fics, and I had an idea for a fic like that, but with a twist 🫣 reader is bucky’s sweet civilian gf, literal definition of sunshine, basically a lover, not a fighter. She’s a ballet teacher at a local studio (hint hint wink wink). And she lives with him and the team at the tower. One night, while the team is out on a mission, Hydra ambushes the tower and tries to take the reader hostage. And when they learn about it, they rush back home in order to save her. Meanwhile, Bucky and Tony check the footage just to see his precious sweet girl absolutely kicking ass. And I mean hardcore, like she even does the entire widow thigh-neck move. And everyone is like??? And Bucky’s just absolutely fucking HORNY bc “hell I’ve been in between those thighs so many times, you’re telling me I could’ve DIED???”

okay YESSSSS we live for a badass gf who appears to be nothing but sweet sunshine and killer on the inside. Fluffy fluffy and smutty smutty

-

"Be back soon, darling" Bucky cooed, kissing you again and again while everyone boarded the jet, getting in a few more pecks before having to leave on a mission.

"C'mon lover boy, the faster we get going, the faster you get back to your sweetheart!" Tony yelled, shaking his head watching Bucky look a you with puppy eyes, not wanting to leave his sunshine behind. "He's so down bad, I swear"

"Can you blame him, she's so cute" Sam smiled, watching the two of you cling onto each other for a few extra seconds, your form hidden, engulphed in Bucky's thick arms. "Look, you can't even see her when tin man hugs her"

"I'll miss you baby" you kissed Bucky's pouty lips, caressing his scruffy cheek before letting him run off, your cheeks heating up when he blew you another kiss before the doors closed.

"You're a little sap" Nat teased while Bucky blushed, strapping on his gear as the engine roared to life, rumbling as they took off. Bucky had 0 shame in everyone knowing how much he loved you and it started from the day he met you. He got called out immediately, questioned over the dopey smile he had on his face, the blush on his cheeks instantly giving him away.

Soon after you'd started dating, Bucky wanted you closer to him and he didn't have to ask Tony twice; his room was moved to a floor above so you'd have more space to live together. The last thing Bucky wanted was for you to get hurt because of his job. He felt more relaxed knowing you were in he safety of the compound on days where he was away.

"Who would've thought Bucky would be the romantic type"

"I did" Steve groaned, having seen Bucky's flirty side for years but he knew this was different. He hadn't seen his bestfriend like this before, clearly in utterly and desperately in love with you.

"It's adorable" Sam laughed while Bucky continued to smile, scrolling through his phone looking at pictures of you. His camera rolled was filled with various images of you baking, cuddling, sleeping, doing the most mundane things in the world, each making his heart flutter. He felt a pang in his chest, momentarily worried about if you were safe without him, the same anxiety he always felt whenever he had to leave you.

-

You stretched across the sofa, sipping on some hot chocolate and putting on your favorite comfort movie, deciding to have a relaxing night to yourself since the compound was empty. You didn't like when Bucky had to leave but you knew it was part of his job, slipping the fuzzy throw blanket over you shoulders before hitting play.

It had hardly been a few minutes before the screen went black making you blink, wondering if you'd sat on the remote by accident. Suddenly the rest of the lights turned off, a blasting sound coming from the entrance before you heard rushed footsteps nearing you.

Your heart started to race, having no time to hide or think, coming face to face with a number of masked men all towering over you. One grabbed you, pulling out a camera and hitting record, shoving it close to your face with a sinister smile.

"Look who we have, soldat"

-

The jet hadn't been flying for long, a sudden beeping alarm from the security system alerting Tony to check the cameras. His eyes grew wide, seeing the Hydra logo take over the screen before switching the live footage from the hacked system.

"Guys! There's been an attack on the compound!" Tony shouted from the computer, everyone rushing to see what came on screen, billows of smoke emitting from the main wing. Suddenly the screen went black, replaced with a man swearing a black mask, walking around the common room.

"Welcome Mr. Stark" His voice was thick with a Russian accent, the video panning to show the other agents infiltrating the tower. "Where is our soldat"

"You stay the fuck away from my girl" Bucky growled, his heart hammering in his chest, nearly crying when he saw someone grab you and shove you into a chair.

"She's precious to you, isn't she. We'll see you soon" he laughed, before the stream cut off leaving Bucky wanting to scream in frustrating, anxiety clouding all his thoughts, just wanting to get back to you to protect you.

"We have to go help her!" Bucky paced up and down while Tony rerouted the jet, speeding back to save you. "How the fuck do I know what's going on, there has to be something" He pleaded, hating that he no longer had eyes on you.

"Hold on, let me get into the back up feed" Tony tapped away at different keys, getting into the security system, selecting the camera for the common room where you were being held. "Here, I got it! I-Holy shit..."

The sound of screaming screeched through the speaker but it wasn't coming from you.

No.

"B-Barnes, you're girl just killed someone with her thighs" Tony stared at the footage with wide eyes while Bucky and the others watching in awe as your legs wrapped around one of the agents' heads, snapping his neck before flipping over and attacking another one of your assailants.

Bucky nearly choked, watching the men drop to the floor like flies, your arms and legs holding onto the men with a vice like grip until they fell, hardly breaking a sweat each time.

"Do you understand how many time's I've been in between those thighs, you're telling me she could've killed me?!!" Bucky practically moaned, seeing you fight, all his anxiety melting into lust, his cock straining against the thick material of his tac suit.

"Jesus Bucky, you're gonna poke an eye out" Sam's face scrunched up while Bucky adjusted himself, biting his lip to keep from making a sound, his tip leaking, breathing out a sigh of relief seeing you perfectly safe.

"Can't help me, look at her. Better count me out for movie night, m'gonna spent the whole night fuckin'-

"Okay, got it, you're a ridiculous, horny, pervert, and y/n probably won't walk for a week, will you please put that away" Sam shook his head, walking away when he tent in Bucky's pants got worse.

"I'm sorry, we've been housing a Hydra killer all this time?" Tony shook his head as the jet landed, still in disbelief over what everyone had just seen, both impressed and 100% scared of what else you were capable of. "You sure know how to pick em' Barnes"

As soon as the jet hit the floor, Bucky was sprinting off into he compound, running to find you, relief flooding his veins when he saw you sipping on your tea, seated on the couch again. You jumped up from your spot, jumping into your boyfriends arms, clinging onto him while the others also entered, glad to see you were okay. They got to work, clearing up the room, rounding up the few agents that were knocked out for questioning while also giving you and Bucky some privacy.

"Babygirl" Bucky hugged you tightly in his arms, burying his face into your neck, inhaling your soft scent, hoisting you up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. "Are you okay doll, are you hurt?"

"I'm fine Bucky" you reassured him, pecking his soft lips, letting him check you over before feeling satisfied you were okay, not finding a scratch on your body.

"Everything okay Buck?" you cocked your head noticing your boyfriends shift in demeanor, his soft baby blue eyes darkening into something else, biting his lip.

"Baby, I had to hold back from pulling my cock out on the jet and touching myself, you know how much that hurt? How hard I was the entire time, struggling not to jet my dick off watching how sexy you looked" He walked you up to your shared bedroom, his erection shamelessly pushing against your clothed core, not bothering to hide it one bit. "Where have you been hiding all that princess"

"Not hiding Bucky, just-never needed to do that" You shrugged shyly, squeezing your thigs around his waist playfully, making him groan as he dropped you on the bed.

"Can't wait to keep my face between these pretty legs that could kill me" He groaned, slicing your clothes off with his pocket knife before diving in without a care in the world, eating you like a man starved, tapping your thighs to wrap around his head.

"C'mon doll, squeeze em'" he moaned, humping against the bed feeling your muscles flex, his eyes rolling back, nearly cumming against the mattress at the strength he could feel, knowing you were holding back from hurting him.

you could kill him if you want.

Fuck, he was going to cum so fast.

-

"Oh god! Bucky!! PLease! D-DOn't STOP"

"That's it gorgeous, so good to me, so fuckin' pretty. won't last baby, gonna cum for you!"

"They're going at it like rabbits, didn't you sound proof their room after the first incident?"

"I did. This is after the sound proofing"

"Gonna fuck your thighs next baby, you got my cock so hard, almost creamed my pants like a teenager watching, you, oh shit-shit-m'so sensitive, keep clenching around my dick, that's it-fuckkk"

"Jesus christ, it's been an hour"

"Did you forget he has the super soldier serum? They're not gonna stop any time soon"

"I'M CUMMING JAMES"

"Gonna fucking cum for you y/n, OH FUCK YESSS you're so sexy when you fight baby, m'gonna fuckin' cum again, I can't stop"

"He's really gonna go all night, isn't he"

"Can you blame him?"

[ja3yun]

Melting Point | P.SH | CH.1

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: heavily suggestive, kissing, perv!hoon, mentions of self doubt and overthinking, yn's mum is an asshole, anything else lmk! ch.1 synopsis: when circumstances unexpectedly bring you and your brother's long-time ice skating rival, park sunghoon, together, you discover a surprising connection. However, your brother forbids any relationship between you. Will you heed his advice or follow your heart? wc: 14.3k masterlist | next a/n: hi! first chapter is finally here and i hope you all like it. each chapter will be released on friday and roughly between 10k - 16k (since people wanted longer chapters, however, i am open to any feedback regarding lengths). enjoy and please leave any comments/likes/reblogs if you wish !! also, peep the new header

‘We’re dancing, dancing, dancing in the moonlight.'

The blaring of your alarm pulls you from the cocoon of sleep, and you groan into your pillow. The idea of getting up before 6 am feels like a crime, yet here you are, abruptly awakened at 4:30 am by the dulcet tones of TO1.

With a begrudging sigh, you reach for your phone, dismissing the alarm, and then collapse back, staring at the ceiling. This routine has been a part of your life since childhood, and you'd think you'd be accustomed to it by now. However, no matter how early you sleep, removing yourself from the warmth of your bed remains a daily struggle.

You can hear your brother and mum scooting around downstairs, their usual ‘Do you have everything?’, ‘Where are the car keys?’, ‘Get your sister’ conversations louder than they need to be at this time in the day. The last one does mean you better get a move on and go downstairs.

While you put on your peach-flavoured chapstick, your brother bursts into your room, “Hurry up, Y/N.” His eyes roll and he slams the door shut as quickly as he opens it.

You have had the same routine since you were 6 years old. Same exchanges, same panic, same everything. 

Minhee, your older brother, is the reason you have this same routine. When he was 6 years old, Mum took you and him ice skating for the first time and he was a natural. His feet took to the ice like fish to water, like chocolate to strawberries, like you to garlic bread. It was fated. By 7 years old he was already training and what was once a fun hobby turned into a gruelling regime of early rises and the need for a good winter jacket.

“2 minutes!” You shout down to them, one quick glance over in the mirror to make sure you look presentable.  

Running down the stairs you’re greeted by your impatient mum tapping her foot, “Come on, Y/N we really can’t be late today. Coach Kim needs us there as soon as possible. Big announcement.” Her hands are flapping around animated as she speaks, “I think he’s finally going to let Minhee try that quadruple axel we’ve been begging him to let him do for Nationals!”

Your brother looks disinterested, “Mum, he’s already said it’s out of my depth.” His tone is bitter.

Minhee was amazing at ice skating, winning so many medals your mum had you move out of your double room to the box one so she could display them all. By 10 he was the youngest ever in your city to reach state championships and by 14 he was competing at the National level. It did make him the golden, silver, and bronze child in your family, but you didn’t mind all that much - not that you would tell her it did. 

It’s not like you’re doing anything half as impressive as winning trophies, now that was what your mother truly found pride in. You could become a CEO or a lawyer but if you couldn’t hit a toe loop worthy of gold it wouldn’t impress her.

You did try skating when you were younger but it was like you turned into Bambi, never able to find your feet. Even when it snows in winter you can’t hold yourself up. Deep down your mum hoped you would be just like Minhee, creating an opportunity for you both to branch into pair figure skating like the Shib Sibs but no matter how many times Minhee tried to teach you or she got his coach to give you a few free pointers, you couldn’t do it. She’s disappointed and quite frankly you think she holds a grudge against you for not being anything like your amazing, spectacular, talented brother.

But you still loved to watch the sport, how efficiently and painlessly each skater would glide across the ice and do manoeuvres that defied gravity. It was a magical sport, so when your mum dragged you along to every practice because she couldn’t afford a babysitter, you didn’t mind all that much.

Tying up your final lace you stand up from the bottom step and Minhee passes you your black jacket with faux fur lining. You mutter a quick ‘thanks’ before grabbing your book bag and all three of you head to the car.

"What if it's the Olympics!" Squealing, your mother fastens her seatbelt. What if it was the Olympics? Despite consistently finishing in the top three, if not first, in most major competitions in his teenage years, his coach never selected him for the Youth Olympic Games. But now that he’s 20 years old, he could compete in the Olympics.

Your brother looks sideways at your mother and widens his eyes, "You think so?" It was his dream to make it to the Olympics, and even if he didn't win, he wanted to experience everything; the different country, being surrounded by the best of the best - he had been planning his routine for it forever. 

There is a little envious man who climbs up on your shoulder from time to time when conversations like this happen. Of course, you would be so happy for Minhee, after all, he works harder than anyone you know but you wish it was you. Not necessarily the skating part, but to be so good at something you have a goal and dreams that take you to the top. Just something to make you feel alive.

You’re in your 2nd year of University studying Events and Marketing after your mum said it would be good for you to learn how to pitch reasons why Minhee would be a great brand ambassador. So you did it to please her. Honestly, you actually do enjoy it, you won’t lie about that, but the lack of appreciation for your efforts goes unnoticed 99% of the time. The 1% was when you got to shadow a boss at a Nike headquarters branch a few cities over.

“Get a good word in for Minhee while you’re there!”

She was proud of you that day.

As the car rolls up to the rink’s parking lot your mother turns serious, “If this is about choosing you for the Olympics, Min, you need to act excited and unexpectant, they may be filming a behind-the-scenes documentary on your journey to a gold medal.” 

Image. Your mum was big on keeping Minhee’s reputation on brand. Right now his ‘brand’ is being humble and noble.

“Yes mum,” he salutes, “Smile and flutter.” Winking and smirking as he mocks his usual signature poses causes you to laugh but your mum finds nothing funny and her change in aura scares both of you out of the car.

_____

The usually quiet ice rink is filled with chatter and chaos, with over 20 people speaking over each other. Minhee looks down at you and you shrug. None of you had any clue what was going on but if your years of watching Detective Conan paid off you would say that whatever caused this commotion was the reason the coach asked Minhee to come in as quickly as possible.

Customarily, at this time in the morning, it’s Minhee’s solo practice hours to work on his routine for Nationals so this many people here is concerning.

“Listen!” Coach Kim’s voice bellowed around the arena putting the chattering to a halt, “I know this is untimely and inconvenient, trust me, it is for me too,” Your eyes follow his and see another coach standing about 2 meters from him, “But we need to make this work and to do that I need you to listen to me.”

As your family approaches the disarray, Coach Kim beckons you all forward. Minhee is the first to ask the all too important question, “What’s going on, Coach?” The people behind you scatter and begrudgingly tread out of the building, their faces glum and disgruntled.

“Minhee, Ms. Kang, Y/N,” Coach Kim greets you all, “Sorry about all that, although telling them was a lot less scary than you.”

“What? Is this place shutting down?” Minhee jokes but by the look on Coach Kim’s face he isn’t far off. 

“Not exactly.” Scratching his neck, Coach Kim looks everywhere but Minhee’s eyes, “You know the Albion Centre? The rink on the other side of town?” All three of you nod despite that he’s only talking to your brother, “Well the council had a little meeting last week and they’re turning it fully into a Hockey training centre.”

The words sit in the air as he hopes Minhee will come to the conclusion himself, “So what? Just means more time for skating here right? If all the Hockey team are going over there?” 

Sighing, the coach nods, “For sure, but it also means every skater from there will be, well, here.” He gestures around and then points half-heartedly at the other Coach who is stepping forward.

“Kang Minhee, it’s great to meet you properly, I’ve heard nothing but great things,” he extends his hand which your brother accepts, still dazed from the information, “I’m Coach Lee.”

“Wait so, EVERY skater in the town will be here? in Belmore? Coach Kim, that's not possible, my training time will be cut!” Minhee is sulking but you don’t blame him. This is a fucked up situation.

Coach Lee answers, “Not true, Minhee, with the Hockey team over at Albion it frees up some ice time, you’ll get to train more if you want to.” 

“And! No more shield guards around the rink, you always hated those!” Coach Kim smiles and playfully punches his chest.

There is something the Coaches aren’t telling him. Like they’re presenting him with all the benefits before hitting him with a bombshell. You know it and for sure your mother knows it. She has been eerily quiet throughout the whole exchange, if there is one thing more unsettling than her shouting, it’s her silence.

“Albion, huh?” She steps forward and tapers her eyes, “Isn’t that the rink where the Parks are located? And aren’t you Lee Jaeho? The coach of that snake ‘Ice Prince’?”

Tension spreads around everyone’s shoulders, the Coaches can’t look at her, and none of you move. 

A loud click echoes throughout the rink as someone walks through the door.

“Coach what the fuck?” The voice booms behind you, “Why did I have to drive almost an hour to come here, why couldn’t we just meet at Albi?” 

Park Sunghoon. 

What’s that saying? Speak of the devil and he shall appear? His mother shuffles in behind him, vocalising her own distaste for being here as if it were the most inconvenient thing in the world. Little do they know…

It’s like the world stops when Sunghoon and Minhee see each other and not in a rom-com way, “What the fuck is HE doing here?” Sunghoon points to Minhee, not taking his eyes off him. 

“This is MY rink, Park.”

Sunghoon and Minhee have been competitors since they were 9 years old. Each of them competes against one another in every competition, always striving for first place. It began as healthy competition, and they were even friends at one point, but as they grew older and each mother became increasingly determined to claim their kid was superior to the others, a rivalry developed. If one of them did something, the other had to outdo it tenfold.

When Minhee learned how to do a double axel, Sunghoon learned a triple. When Sunghoon landed his Euler jumps, Minhee was landing an Euler but following it up with a Salchow. When Minhee won the Junior Silver Medal in 2015, Sunghoon won the Junior Gold Medal in 2016.

It was always like this.

Their similarities didn’t help either, both 20, towering at 6”0, and blessed with faces that effortlessly drew admiring glances from girls. Objectively, you’ve only really seen the attraction to Sunghoon given that Minhee is your brother, however, you're not blind to the bevvy of girls who gravitate towards him either. This is precisely why your mother insisted on Minhee maintaining his brand, which stood in stark contrast to Sunghoon's.

He wasn’t rude or stuck up, actually from what you’ve perceived from afar, he is kind and gentle. But unlike your brother's ‘humble’ persona, Sunghoon knows he’s good and will tell anyone about it. Sunghoon’s confidence is easily mistaken for haughtiness. He can come across as arrogant and cocky, just like those sports journalists have been branding him for years like he thinks he’s better than anyone else past and present. 

Having been to every competition Minhee has skated in has led you to know a few things about Park Sunghoon. He was arguably the best skater in the division, even over Minhee, he was determined, hard-working, resilient, and fit as fuck.

To say you used to have a crush on him would be the understatement of the century, matter of fact it was so obvious back then that your mum would often reprimand you for staring at him too long. He was your first crush, you were 8 and he was 9, and like some girls that age you planned out a wedding, a future of 2 dogs and you’d both live in a pink palace. At first, it was his looks, no one in your primary school looked that pretty or even shone a torch compared to him. It was like seeing an angel for the first time. But then you started to grow up, and while still appreciating his face, you focused on how beautifully he skated and how majestic he moved. He was so passionate about the sport it made you feel butterflies, you hadn’t seen love like that before. Sunghoon and the rink were fated to be together. 

“Sunghoon, calm down.” His coach whispered, “We need to tell you something-”

“I am NOT sharing my rink with that fucking z-list prick, alright?” Minhee didn’t hold back, he got that anger from your mother.

Turning to his coach, Sunghoon raised his eyebrows, “What does he mean sharing?”

Both Coaches exhaled. You can’t imagine how many times they have had to explain this situation, they probably should have just sent out an email. So as Coach Lee takes Sunghoon and his mum to the side, Coach Kim is looking at Minhee apologetically, “I’m sorry, Minhee. I know he’s your biggest competition, and trust me, I don’t exactly love this outcome either,” rubbing a hand down his exhausted face he whispers, “but work with me here. I’ve scheduled you guys at different times, you won’t even need to see him.”

“That’s not the point, Coach, you know how I feel about him.”

If it wasn’t for your mum you seriously ponder whether Minhee would have such a strong hatred for the fellow ice skater, and as you look at Sunghoon you wonder the same thing.

“I know trust me, you and your mother make that perfectly clear every time we cross them at comps, but you just gotta live with it, son.” 

The coaches come back together and look at both of their young prodigies, “Minhee you’ll train morning, and Sunghoon you’ll train nights. Because of the merger of rinks, we have an excessive number of skaters, so we are making it a 24-hour arena but ONLY for you two and Wonyoung since Nationals are coming up.” Both coaches nodded their heads as if agreeing with themselves that this was a good choice, “So if you happen to turn up at the same time, you respect each others’ space and behave like grown men. Got it?”

Grumbling, your brother rolls his eyes, and Sunghoon nods. This is going to be a disaster.

Just as you think all bickering would be over, the mothers start chasing after the coaches as they head into the office. You felt bad for the trainers having to deal with this and getting blamed for it all, but most importantly, you feel sorry for them because they have to listen to both your mum and Mrs. Park for at least an hour.

Once the door to their office shut, it was silent, the only noise coming from the large ACs. 

Scared to look any of them in the eye you place a hand on Minhee’s arm, “Come on, you need to practice.”

“Emphasis on the ‘need’.” Sunghoon pipes up and you wish he hadn’t. You were a fool to think this parting would be civil.

Minhee pokes his tongue in his cheek and looks at his rival, “You got something to say?” He’s challenging Sunghoon, baiting him to start something, but Sunghoon doesn’t budge, “Better watch my skate doesn’t somehow come flying off and slit you open.” Minhee was all bark and no bite, you knew this, but he seems deadly serious right now.

“Is that a threat?” Sunghoon stands tall against Minhee.

“It’s a fucking promise, Park.” 

No one says anything else, they don’t have to, the look in their eyes is scary as they stand toe to toe with one another. “Let’s go, Mini.” You squeak out his nickname. By no means are you a timid person but you don’t want to interject and suddenly find yourself in the firing line. 

With a grunt, your brother obeys and storms out and into the changing rooms, leaving you and Sunghoon alone.

His stern eyes flicker to your soft ones, it’s been a while since you’ve been this close to him, close enough to admire him. His black hair is fluffy and unstyled unlike how it is usually when you see him at competitions, the bags under his eyes prove how hard he’s working whether at skating or general life and the freckles that are perfectly placed on his face suddenly look more ethereal than before. Sunghoon is the epitome of beauty.

While you’re staring you fail to notice how he is staring right back at you, taking in all your features like he’s trying to commit them to memory. He hasn’t seen you since Sectionals which didn’t seem like that long ago but to him, it feels like a lifetime. You’ve cut your hair since then and Sunghoon noticed.

Meeting his eyes once again you see how they sparkle, just like they do when he’s on the ice.

“Sorry for my brother, he can be-”

“A dick?”

“A lot,” Your tone is filled with warning. Sunghoon might have been right but that’s still your brother, “He can be a lot but you already know that.”

Walking up to you, he tilts his head and smiles softly, “Don’t start apologising for him now, Sweets.” He leans so his face meets yours, “Or else you’ll be apologising your whole life.” 

Sunghoon pats your head and makes his way to the coach's office, leaving you mesmerised.

______

Minhee and Sunghoon have successfully kept their distance from each other for the past two weeks, which has been a relief to everyone. If this pattern continues, there is hope that everything will just be a harmonious as before the merge.

Although the rink was now open for their disposal, you were never more grateful. No, it wasn’t for you, the coaches explicitly said it was for the future medalists, but you knew the receptionist for the building and she would let you away with anything if you batted your lashes and gave her a box of Toffees. 

Growing up at the rink meant you found solace in the atmosphere and surroundings, so much so that you went there to simply study, the arena oddly hugging you in comfort while you tore the hair from your head. Skaters and staff became your friends with how much time you’ve spent in the bleachers. Typically, it would be during the day with what little spare time you had, but with the building being open around the clock it means you can inhabit the premises in the middle of the night, the perfect time to get your head down and work.

That is where you are headed right now just after your shift at the supermarket. It was as painful as ever with customers not understanding that you don’t make the prices, or that no you cannot watch their baby while they run for a jug of milk. It’s baffling how dense some people can be. 

The rink is a nice place to relax and get away from it all.

Pushing open the door you see the receptionist, Miss Barbara, filing her nails. She was a friendly woman, the kind type, but when Coach Kim told her she would have to work some nights she wasn’t so sweet and caring, not to him anyway.

Her real name is just Barbara but as the years went on, she adopted this regal persona and insisted everyone call her Miss or Ma’am. Only you and Minhee gave in to her request though.

“Hi, Miss Barbara,” You wave. Reaching into your white tote bag you retrieve her bribes, eh, goodies, and pass them to her. 

With much delight, she wiggles her fingers and slips them from the desk into her lap, “Y/N you are my favourite person that walks through those doors!” Her eyes are trained on the sweets rather than you when she speaks which makes you chuckle.

“Glad I can be held in such high regard, Miss Barbara,” You change your accent to a posh one and wave like a Queen in her tiny town car. Lifting her head, Miss Barbara sees your roleplay and laughs, dismissing you into the rink.

As you step into the arena, the chill of the air greets you, accompanied by the soothing sound of skates slicing through the ice. Finding your way to the centre of the second row of bleachers, you settle in, unpacking your bag and gracefully arranging your belongings. Crossing your legs to create space for your laptop and paper, you deftly balance everything, a skill you've honed to perfection.

Typing in your password you hear the skates coming towards you and scraping to a halt but you don’t look up.

“If you’ve come to spy on my routine you aren’t doing a very good job at hiding.” Sunghoon playfully remarks. You hadn’t even noticed it was him who was skating, since it was usually Wonyoung gracing the ice you just expected it to be her. He looks at your mess of a lap and scrunches his full eyebrows, “Like you’re really not making it discrete.” 

You look up and see him pointing to your laptop, “Oh, no I’m just studying.” Returning to typing you hear him scoff, making you look at him again.

“You expect me to believe that?” The look on his face is incredulous when you don’t budge, “What? Don’t they have libraries at your Uni?”

Sunghoon’s tone is accusatory and you don’t like it. “Look, I don’t have beef with you okay? That’s the wrong Kang sibling.” There is no reason for him to be giving you attitude right now, you hadn’t done anything wrong, an innocent bystander in all this. 

Deep down he knew that too, but he couldn’t be too careful.

Crossing his arms, he leans on top of the barrier and rests his chin, examining you and how much you’re telling the truth, “So, what? You genuinely just sit here and study? Does the cold stimulate your brain or something?” 

“No, it’s like white noise at this point, comforting.” Glancing up you see his still dubious expression, “Ugh, look I come here all the time, ask anyone!” Your arms gesturing to the empty rink is not really helping your case.

Having had enough you slam the laptop shut and stand up, “Whatever, I’ll just go somewhere else.”

Sunghoon shoots his arms up to mock surrender, “Woah, Sweets, calm down, I was just making sure. Need to air on the side of caution, yeah?” His voice softens. 

Making you uncomfortable wasn’t on his list of things to do, but his mum made it very clear your whole family wasn’t to be trusted, and he always heeded his mother's warnings even if he thought she was being overdramatic. “Listen, stay here as long as you want but if I see your brother doing a double toe loop into a triple axel I know who to blame.” 

With a smirk, you sit back down, “See now you’ve just told me your big secret,” a laugh leaves your lips, “Changed your mind on trusting a Kang so soon huh?” 

He’s flabbergasted. 

Did he really just tell you part of his routine like it was nothing, in an instant after he just told himself not to be so trusting of you?  You’re more dangerous than he first thought, and you aren’t even trying.

After seeing the realisation come over his face you laugh loudly, “Sunghoon, don’t worry. My brother can handle you on his own, he doesn’t need to cheat to beat you.”

“Say that to my 8 first places over him.”  It goes silent. It’s not like you could argue with him, Sunghoon did beat Minhee in a lot of skates. 

Trying to lighten the mood he points to you, “No pictures.” He jokes and skates away adroitly.

You don’t see the smile creeping onto his face, or the way tries to shake you out of his head. That conversation between you made him want it to be the start of many more, much more.

________

Emerging from your room, you're taken aback to find your mom standing right at your door, narrowly avoiding a collision. Both of you gasp and instinctively clutch your chests. "Jesus, Y/N, you scared me," she exclaims. Ignoring the fact that she's lingering around your room, you offer an apology, which she quickly dismisses. "A letter came for you," she informs you, handing over the manila envelope before walking away. At least she isn't one of those moms who loiter and wait for you to open it; she doesn't fuss over things like that. Or perhaps, she doesn't fuss over you.

Abandoning your plan to head to the kitchen for a cup of tea, you return to your bed and sprawl across it, letting your legs dangle off the edge. With a swift motion, you tear open the envelope and unfold the letter, eagerly scanning its contents.

Dear Y/N Kang,

At Yonsei University, our students consistently impress us with their dedication and commitment to excellence. Each year, we have the privilege of acknowledging one outstanding student whose remarkable progress merits special recognition. This year, we are delighted to announce that you have been selected as the top student of Yonsei University.

In light of your exceptional achievements, we would be honoured to celebrate your success by presenting you with an award. A special ceremony, bringing together top students from across the city, will be held on the 23rd of September at 7 pm in the historic Cathedral adjacent to our university campus. You are welcome to bring a plus one to share in this momentous occasion.

Congratulations once again on this well-deserved honour.

You skim-read the rest, and a triumphant smile creeps onto your face. There's no conceivable way you're at the top of the University this year - perhaps the top of your year, but the entire university? It feels like a surreal, sick joke. Investigating the envelope, you spot the official stamp of Yonsei. It's real.

Bounding down the stairs, you find your mum and brother already seated at the dining table, ready for dinner, "Mum, Mini, look!" You flap the paper in their faces, excitement bubbling within you. Your mum tuts and carefully opens the letter, reading it with precision. You're searching for any sign of a reaction, but nothing surfaces. She simply places it down and checks her phone.

You sit down gingerly, awaiting her acknowledgement, hoping for some form of appreciation, "Hmm, thought so." Clicking the lock on her phone, she sets it aside, "Sorry, Y/N, Minhee has a schedule that day."

"But aren't you happy for me?" You ask, your excitement dampening. It's not just about the ceremony; it's about the achievement itself. She should be proud of you, "I'm at the top of my university."

"Yes, you are, darling," your mum responds, her tone lacking enthusiasm. Normally, it wouldn't bother you, but this is a big deal, huge even, and she couldn't spare you the time of day to at least pretend to be happy for you.

Your heart sinks, and the elation you felt a moment ago dissipates. She really did not care, and the void of her indifference casts a shadow over your significant accomplishment.

Minhee places a comforting hand on your shoulder, sensing your disappointment. "Top of the class, huh? Finally, you get one of your awards in my trophy room." His attempt at humour falls flat in the weight of the moment. Minhee notices your lack of response, withdrawing his hand and sinking into silence, his gaze fixed downward.

“We just can’t go, your brother has an advertisement to film that day, we’ve been planning it for months. You understand.”

You had no choice but to understand.

“Yes, Mum.” The acceptance cuts deep. You've never blamed Minhee for the uneven distribution of favouritism; it wasn't his fault, yet, the sting of yearning for a moment in the spotlight, just once, remains. The chair you rise from screeches against the floor. "I need to go tell my friends about it."

There isn’t a protest from her, so you slip out quietly. Minhee extends a hand toward you, a silent gesture of support, but you don’t bother acknowledging it. The door closes behind you, leaving a trail of unresolved emotions lingering in the air.

In truth, you didn’t want to tell your friends right now, when you tell them you want it to be a happy occasion, not tarnished by your mum's attitude.

How could she be so nonchalant about the fact that you achieved such an award? You weren’t looking for bells and whistles but a simple ‘Well done, Y/N.’ would have sufficed. Was it too much to ask for? You did all this for her, after all. 

A deja vu of last week, you push the heavy doors to the Belmore Centre, greeting Miss Barbara before heading to the rink.

The familiar scent of ice and warm rubber infiltrates your nose, offering solace and temporarily numbing the thoughts swirling in your mind. The rink, with its unique aura, never fails to bring you a sense of contentment.

As you take your usual seat, you can't help but notice an unusual absence of the rhythmic sound of skates cutting through the ice. It's just past 8 pm, yet the rink is eerily silent. For a change, it's pure bliss, the absence of the usual hustle and bustle providing an unexpected sanctuary.

Sitting with your head in your hands, you succumb to overthinking. If only you could have skated and achieved something that your mum could be proud of. What would it take?

A tear slips down your cheek, and you're oblivious to the approaching presence.

Sunghoon’s smile is subtle as he takes in your dishevelled appearance. You’re not in your usual jacket, in fact, you look like you've hastily run out of the house as if you were just popping into the shop for milk.

With your hands buried in your head, he hears a sniffle, realizing that you're crying, “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Sunghoon drops his bag and skates as he rushes over to you, concern all over his face. 

Shaking your head you just cry harder as your brain screams at you. It is so loud you can’t hear anything else, certainly not the boy sitting next to you.

He rubs your back to calm you down but to no avail. Instead, you cry harder and he doesn’t know what to do. Sunghoon isn’t exactly an expert when it comes to crying girls, “Sweets, stop crying.” Great, Sunghoon, just great, he curses himself, “Umm, no wait, shit, breathe! I’ve heard that works before.” He quickly made the realisation he would never make it as a therapist.

Sunghoon is always so confident and self-assured but right now with you he has no idea how to act.

What he doesn’t realize is that his awkward attempt to console you has genuinely worked. Sunghoon fumbling over his words gives you something to focus on, and hearing him mutter to himself about how awful he is at this makes you laugh. It’s a small laugh but one that breaks through the heaviness of the moment.

Hearing your laughter, Sunghoon whips his head to face you, his hand continuing to rub soothing circles on your back. “What happened, Y/N?” His voice carries a gentle concern, inviting you to share, but you just shake your head, not ready to delve into the details. “Nah, come on. Whatever it is has really upset you. It’s better to talk about it.”

His voice resonates with a soothing calmness, making you feel like you could confide in him about anything.

“I just feel like I'm not good enough and that anything I do will never meet her standards,” you shrug, expressing the weight of self-doubt that has been dragging you down.

“Ah, it’s your mum, right?” His lips purse as he gazes ahead to the rink. The elude to ‘her’ being his only anchor of reasoning.

Your silence serves as confirmation. Sunghoon, all too familiar with the feeling of not being enough, understands your pain. But in this moment, it's not about him. He can only offer superficial advice, “If you live your life based on other's expectations, you’ll never be truly happy.”

“Says the competitive figure skater,” you lightly laugh, a hint of sadness slowly dissipating from your face.

Sunghoon pauses the reassuring circles between your shoulders and sighs, “You got me there.” You were right; who was he to tell you to stop living for other people when that’s all he has ever done since he was 6?

Seeing how his shoulders slump, you worry you might have hit a nerve. “Hey, I didn’t me—”

“Do you want to do something reckless?” The sudden switch from sadness to confidence confuses you, and you gaze at him as if he has two heads. It's remarkable how quickly he pulled himself out of his own thoughts, and you can't help but feel a twinge of envy.

When you don’t respond, he pushes the idea further, “Come on, Sweets. Didn’t have you as the type to say no to a little fun.”

“There's a big difference between reckless and fun, so which is it?” you ask.

“Come and find out.” He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Suddenly, Sunghoon springs to his feet and yanks you out of your seat, propelling you into whatever scheme he has up his sleeve. As his hand interlocks with yours, a peculiar flutter dances in your stomach.

“Where are we going?” You glance around as he drags you past the rink and into the back rooms. "What’s so fun about plain grey walls and 'Employee of the Month' posters?”

Sunghoon simply rolls his eyes in response to your question.

The next thing you know, you're in a warehouse-like room, surrounded by old skating equipment, acrylite shields you've seen hockey players collide with, and an army of mannequins. 

What somehow escapes your notice is the giant red Zamboni that Sunghoon is confidently strolling towards.

Seeing you mesmerized by the mannequins, Sunghoon waits for you to turn around, but you're too engrossed in the plastic figures to notice him. “Looking for your next boyfriend in there?” he teases, his voice slicing through the silence of the room.

Jumping at the unexpected remark, you hastily remove your hand from one of the figures' chests and whip around. Sunghoon leans against the Zamboni, a tilted smirk gracing his face, hands tucked casually in his trouser pockets. Embarrassed, you mumble a quick 'shut up' and shuffle over to him. To be honest, those dummies probably would have offered a more exciting conversation than most men.

Your eyes finally land on the Zamboni. It gleams, proudly bearing the bold inscription 'Zamboni Campbell' on the side. A few years ago, Coach Kim, in a moment of whimsy, had asked people to name the ‘new love in his life’ through a Facebook post. Some 7-year-old had chosen 'Zamboni Campbell.' It might not have been the most clever name, but considering his age, you let it slide. 

“Please stop leaning on Zamboni Campbell; she’s a national treasure,” you interject, half-joking. If anything were to happen to her, you imagine Coach Kim might have an aneurysm.

The figure skater scoffs and pushes himself off the machine, “She’s no Zamby Malik.” He jokes, “My baby boy is probably being abused right now.” The comment raises an eyebrow; what is it with some people and their weird fascination for anything with a motor? Your expression remains neutral as Sunghoon looks at you. “Zamby Malik? Albion’s Zamboni? Named after Zayn Malik?” he questions.

“Yeah, got that reference, thanks.” Stepping forward, your eyes meet his. “I have been a Niall worshipper for many, many years,” you say proudly. You’ve been a dedicated fan of Niall and all the One Direction boys forever.

“Eh, more of a Louis girl myself,” Sunghoon shrugs and turns to face the ice resurfacer. “So, how badly have you ever wanted to ride her?” His hands rub together in a way that eerily resembles a villain plotting an evil scheme.

Nope. Absolutely not. You're not getting on that thing. For one, Coach Kim would undoubtedly kill you both if he found out. He loves the Zamboni more than his own children. And two, you have no idea how to operate it. Disaster is inevitable. “I am not getting on that thing!” 

Sunghoon gives you a look that says ‘Of course, you are getting on that thing.’ but he can give you all the looks he wants, you are not doing it.

“Sweets, you need to have a go. It’ll help whatever is going on in that pretty little head of yours.” Sunghoon's hand playfully ruffles your hair before he strides towards the steps of the Zamboni.

Fixing your hair consciously, you find yourself following him. “How will it help exactly? When I die from crashing it or at the hands of Coach Kim, at least I'll be free of my thoughts?”

Sunghoon spins around, and you walk right into his chest. “I was thinking more along the lines of a clear rink, clear mind, but your reasoning works too, I suppose.” His hands grip your shoulders and push you at arm's length. “So?”

As you weigh up your options, for him, there's only one option – getting you behind the wheel of Zamboni Campbell.

“I don’t know how to drive it though, Sunghoon.” That would surely deter him from this ridiculous idea. But it doesn't.

“Duh,” His eyes rolled once again, “I’ll teach you obviously.” 

It’s at that moment you understand that regardless of how long you’ve known him, you don’t actually know him. In fact, you haven’t even had a conversation this long before.

“Since when did you know how to ride a Zamboni?” You inquire and Sunghoon removes his hands from your shoulders, running his fingers through his hair. God, he is so handsome.

“You learn a thing or two being on the ice so long.” 

The truth is, he was constantly pestering the maintenance guy at Albion to clean the ice before his practice. He got so fed up hearing Sunghoon complain he told him to do it himself. So he learned, and ever since, he’s been whizzing on a Zamboni.

You are running out of excuses, and part of you is agreeing with him that this will be good for you. “Fine.”

“That’s a girl!” Sunghoon huffs, and you move to walk up the steps, but he stops you, holding up two fingers. “Two things first.”

Removing his long liquorice-colored coat, he gently places it on your shoulders. The warmth lingering from his body heat in the linings of the jacket makes you realize how cold you were. “It gets cold up there,” he says, straightening out the collar.

You push your arms through the holes and wrap yourself up in it. Sunghoon has broad shoulders, so the jacket makes you look ten times smaller than you are, creating a cosy cocoon. 

If he knew it was okay to say, he'd probably tell you how cute you look. For now, he keeps that thought to himself.

Murmuring a polite ‘thank you,’ you're grateful he doesn’t ask why you don't have your jacket. Sunghoon hasn’t pushed you to talk about it at all, and that's something you appreciate.

Sunghoon climbs up and gets situated behind the wheel.

“Wait, you said there were two things?” The jacket is one, and what else?

“Ah, there’s only one seat up here so,” he pats his lap, “You’re going to have to sit on my knee.”

He has to be joking, yet his face looks serious, a tinge of red sneaking onto his neck and ears. He’s blushing. The playful challenge in his eyes mixes with genuine warmth. It's clear he wants to make you smile.

Cute.

“I can’t teach you from down there, now come on up.” He continues.

He won’t give up, apparently, so with a huff, you start scaling the steps, standing at the top and realise how high this thing is. Sunghoon puts his hand out for you to take as he guides you to sit down. “This is super high,” you state patently.

Sunghoon laughs and shakes his head, “You’re just small, Sweets.” His hands go to your waist to stabilise you while you hike one leg over him. “That’s it, not so scary, huh?”

Slowly, you sit down on his lap, getting yourself comfortable. You feel his thighs tense under you. “Oh, am I too heavy?”

Quickly, he shakes his head, “No, not at all, I’ve got legs of steel.” He slaps the side of his thigh and relaxes them a little. Sunghoon won’t say it, but the way you wriggled to get comfy was putting pressure straight on his cock, making him tense up. It would be rude to pop a boner right now no matter how good you feel, given the circumstances.

“So what do I do?”

“Hmm?” He was too busy lost in his thoughts he forgot what he was doing. “Oh, right,” he turns on the machine and guides you through the steps. “So there are six levers, each does their own thing—conditioner, elevation, brush, tyre wash, wash water,” he continues going through the controls.

While he’s explaining, you observe how fast his lips are moving. Is he always this talkative, or is it just with you? A part of you hopes for the latter. “And we are good to go.” He finishes and smiles. You probably should have paid attention because now he’s looking at you expectantly. “You didn’t listen to a word I just said, did you?”

“Something about water being washed?” you bring your shoulders up sheepishly and smile, showing all your teeth.

The look on his face feigns annoyance, “How about I drive and you sit there and look pretty, yeah?” 

Pretty. That’s the second time he's inadvertently called you pretty. 

Sunghoon reaches his arm around you, starting the machine up and driving it onto the rink, his other hand is holding you securely in his lap. The ice resurfacer is in full swing as it sweeps the edges of the rink. You haven’t seen the rink from this angle before and it brings forth a new appreciation.

“Gonna need you to pump for me.”

It takes you a minute to process his words before craning your neck around to look at him, “Excuse me?” You have no idea in what context that sentence couldn’t be laced with innuendo.

He seems unphased, or maybe just unaware of his words double entendre, and points to the right of the machine, “This Zam has a manual wash water lever, you need to pump it for me, Sweets, I can’t reach it with you on my lap.”

Can he please stop saying pump for all that is holy? 

You screw your head back on and see the black lever he is talking about, “This one?” 

His one hand on your hip squeezes slightly when you reach over, “Yeah just lift it up and down, it might be heavy for you so be careful.” 

Sunghoon watches you pump the water washer a few times, you use both hands to grasp the lever so he tightens his hold on your waist to ensure your safety. After he has focused on the task at hand he notices the way your hands are gripped around the lever, your fingers barely able to wrap around it. He can’t stop the next thoughts that come into his head. What he wouldn’t give to have you stroking his cock with those pretty hands.

The next thing he notices is how you’re softly grunting as you put the work in and your arms losing pace due to repetition and tiredness. The scene in front of him isn’t calming his thoughts down any because now he’s thinking if these noises are similar to ones you would make while bouncing on his dick. He feels like a pervert because here you are upset and he’s got crude thoughts of you infiltrating his mind. 

“That’s enough for now, Sweets.” His voice is strained, he could have watched you do that for hours but for the sake of the ice and his dignity, he needs you to stop.

Pulling away and shuffling back to comfort on his lap you smile, “That was weirdly fun. It got some frustration out of me.” 

It’s ironic because frustration has seeped into Sunghoon, horny frustration, and you are so blissfully unaware.

“Wow, look how sparkly it is!” You exclaim as your eyes are glued to the ice behind you. Maybe only once have you seen the rink so clean, but even then it wasn’t like this, it’s practically glistening. Zamboni Campbell needs to pat herself on the back.

The boy steering her also needs to praise himself not just for the excellent resurfacing job, but also for helping you. It’s not until now you see that his plan worked, he got you out of your head and stopped the crippling thoughts that were bound to consume you if you didn’t have this distraction.

Both of you lap the rink 4 times before Sunghoon looks at his handy work and smiles, “She drives like a dream.” He steers back into the warehouse, trying to park the Zamboni close enough to where they found it.

“Better than Zamby Malik?” You tease.

“Never, but she’s not far off.” Sunghoon doesn’t let go of the hold he has on your waist despite the ice resurfacer being stagnant. Instead, he’s slightly massaging your sides, an action you can barely feel because of his coat engulfing your body, but you feel it enough.

Turning around so your legs are draped fully over his thighs, you're about to get off him, but you don't. You should stand up, climb down the steps, and leave it as a nice memory, but this future memory feels too short like there should be something more to it.

Sunghoon feels it too, that’s why he’s staring at you so intensely. The once shallow smile he had on his face now dropped off; his eyes are looking deep into yours, and his hands move up your waist slightly, yet he doesn’t make a move.

This has to be your decision. Something you want.

If there was ever an inappropriate time to think about your brother, it’s when you’re two seconds away from kissing a guy. Minhee’s face flashes in your mind, and you realize what you’re about to do - you’re about to kiss Minhee’s biggest rival, his arch-nemesis, how could you even face your brother if you gave in to this?

Sunghoon watches you while your brain flips out; you don’t look like you’re 100% certain of the idea of his lips on yours. “Sweets?” he squeezes your waist and sighs, “We should get going.”

Oh.

All you’re thinking about is why he didn’t kiss you, and why it hurt a little that he didn’t. It looked like he wanted to; maybe you took too long, or he stared long enough to realize you weren’t actually pretty. You guys don't even know each other well, but you feel yourself being pulled towards him. Wasn’t it the same for him? Your brain went from overthinking one thing to another.

Nodding your head, you stand up carefully and make your way down. You can’t even look at him out of shame and guilt for even entertaining the idea of kissing him. Your mum would be so disappointed if she knew.

Sunghoon follows you down but unlike you he is keeping his eyes fixed on your face, focusing on every change in your manner both positive and negative. He wanted to kiss you but you looked like you were about to pass out from the thought of it. Sunghoon wanted you to be certain, “I’ll drive you home.” 

“No, no it’s fine, I’m not that far from here.” Being in a car with him after this wouldn’t be the best outcome, your mind is still on his lips.

“Please, Y/N, it’s late. I just want to make sure you’re safe. Anything could happen.” Sunghoon doesn’t want you to walk home, yes because of safety concerns, but also because he wants to spend even a fraction of a minute more time with you. You seem to be one of the few people in this world he can relax around.

He should have just kissed you.

The look on his face is serious but his eyes are soft, not asking but begging you to just say yes. 

“Sure.” The atmosphere is heavy, filled with longing and tension. You’re both thinking different things.

You’re analysing every specific detail from tonight to see if you have done something wrong, anything that would have stopped him from kissing you.

And Sunghoon’s brain is filled with various thoughts of you from tonight. The lever, the way you felt so right sitting in his lap, and more importantly how amazing it felt to be the one that made you smile. The way you smiled and giggled on the Zamboni is something he is going to commit to memory. 

As of today, he will start keeping part of his brain solely for you to occupy.

The walk to Sunghoon's car is silent, free of the laughter and conversation that previously filled your space. Both of you appear to be over-analysing each other's previous acts, which makes the situation more awkward than it needs to be.

Sunghoon's car is impressive: a sleek monochrome Peugeot New 2008 with a black interior. The scent of his fresh cologne combines with the ocean-scented tree-shaped air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror.

“This is a nice car.” You note, buckling up your seatbelt.

“She’s a beaut, isn’t she? Got her as part of a brand deal with Peugeot Sport.” His hands caress the smooth wheel and his lips upturn into a proud smile. Brand deals and advertisements are not what you want to hear about right now, especially when it’s the one thing your mum cared about instead of your award. Your sour mood doesn’t go unnoticed, “Let’s get you home, yeah?” 

That was the one place you didn’t really want to be right now but you nod, shoulders slumped a little at the thought of facing your mum again.

“Or,” Sunghoon starts, “We could get some food? The University Cafe is always open late.” 

It was like he could read your mind, “Yeah, I could eat.” 

With that, Sunghoon starts the car and drives to the cafe. The way your face turned a little paler when he said he would take you home alarmed him. He doesn’t think you’re in danger there, Minhee might be a dick but he was protective over you, he wouldn’t let anything happen, and Sunghoon knew that. Whatever it is, you didn’t want to go home, and Sunghoon is more than willing to keep you to himself for a couple more hours.

The journey to the cafe, situated more on his side of town, unfolds in silence, only disrupted by the gentle strains of Hozier's "Like Real People Do" emanating from the radio. A wry smile tugs at Sunghoon's lips, finding the song's relevance a touch on the nose for the current situation.

Upon arriving at the cafe, you're taken aback by its shabby appearance - chipped walls, adjacent graffiti, not to mention it’s deserted. Sunghoon, attuned to your hesitance, reassures you, “It’s a lot nicer than it looks, promise. I’ve been coming here forever.” Stepping out of the car, he leaves you with the choice of venturing into the weathered establishment or remaining in the safety of the car. Despite your reservations, a rumble from your stomach nudges you to join him inside.

The interior mirrors the exterior's wear and tear, yet a certain comfort envelops the air as Sunghoon guides you with a reassuring hand on the small of your back. “Sit anywhere you like, Sweets.”

Opting for a seat by the back window, you settle into the firm, brown booth without ridding yourself of Sunghoon's coat, a silent acknowledgement that your stay may be short-lived. You aren’t a snob but you have a cafe like this in your side of town and it isn’t somewhere you choose to occupy. 

Noticing your scrutiny of the surroundings, Sunghoon, with a laugh, takes a seat across from you, studying your expression, "You don’t like it, huh?"

Huffing, you cast a critical eye around the place, "Not really, no."

You were brutally honest, he’ll give you that, “Wait until you try their food and then judge okay?” He chuckles and hands you the menu on the table.

A waitress waltzes over with a pen and paper. She’s too beautiful for a place like this, her rosy cheeks and long flowing brown hair make you jealous, “Sunghoon! My favourite ice slasher, how is it going?”

While they engage in small talk you look at the menu looking for something safe to eat. Maybe you should just wait for Sunghoon to order and get the same thing.

“Y/N, you know what you want?” He turns to you.

“Oh, so you’re the Y/N?” the waitress grins. 

What does that mean? How does she know your name? When you glance at Sunghoon, you notice his intense stare fixed on the girl. This is strange. The waitress seems to pick up on Sunghoon's unspoken communication, smirking as she says, "I mean, you're Kang Minhee's sister, right?" She then slowly turns her attention to you.

Ah, that's how she knew. He must have spoken ill of Minhee and you enough times for her to recognize you. Fueled by this assumption, you shift into defence mode. "Yeah, I am," you reply sharply, your expression hardening as you lean back, raising your eyebrows and waiting for her response, half-expecting her to be rude to you.

Strangely, the waitress's expression brightens. "It's nice to meet you, Y/N. Can I get you anything?" Her voice carries genuine warmth.

Now you feel a bit guilty. She seems genuinely nice.

"Uh," you glance at the menu again, uncertain of what to order. "What's good?"

Sunghoon intervenes with a smile. "She'll take my usual," he tells the waitress as she departs. Ordinarily, you dislike when men presume to order for you, but in this instance, you're grateful for the assistance. "It's just a plain cheese and ham panini with tomato, pesto, and hot sauce. It sounds simple, but it's delicious."

You expected Sunghoon to be a burger and fries kind of guy, but with his physique and strict regimen, you should have known his tastes would lean towards the healthier side of things.

“Did you order a drink with this ‘usual’ or am I supposed to just swallow it dry?” 

“Comes with diet coke and a lime.” He says timidly, now for the first time he is self-conscious about his food choice. Sunghoon would like nothing more than to chomp into a pizza and a full-fat Pepsi but with National’s coming up at the end of the year, he needs to stick somewhat to his meal plan. In hindsight, he should have ordered you something you might have liked. What did you like? He didn’t even know that simple fact, “Do you want something else? I can change it.”

“No it’s okay, I’ll trust your judgment,” You relax into the booth, “Shoot me if i’m being too straight forward but don’t you have enough money to go like, I don’t know, somewhere nicer than this?” 

Raising his hands in a gun motion he pretends to shoot you and you fake a wound in your shoulder. It’s nice to be playful like this, Sunghoon hasn’t had this for a long time, “You know how to ask a question, Sweets.” 

He then shrugs and looks around the cafe, not unlike how you were doing earlier but his eyes aren’t filled with distaste; they’re shining in fondness.

“It’s where my dad would take me after practices. Mum would never let me come here once I started aiming for professional level, too much grease and too many carbs.” He recalls a time his mum had him on a diet at 11 because he wasn’t flying high enough and a frown appeared on his face, “My dad though, he wanted me to be at least somewhat a normal kid so every Wednesday when mum worked late we would come here. Eat whatever we want and then pop a breath mint in the car.”

Sunghoon’s features are mixed with hurt and fondness, “Sorry, about your dad.” You offer your condolences.

When Sunghoon was 15 his dad died of a heart attack right before the Junior Championships and it broke him to the point he didn’t want to skate anymore, it wasn’t fun because his dad was always the one to cheer him on. His parents had their roles, his mum was strict and direct, getting him to train hard and achieve his best. And his dad was the reliever, encouraging him to have fun and let loose, be a kid. With one half of the balance scales gone, it was difficult for Sunghoon to maintain any adolescent normality. Perhaps that’s why he’s so fond to have you around.

In the silence you speak up, “You know your dad used to sneak me a packet of Haribos nearly every competition.” The boy's head whips to look at you and tilts, a knowing look on his face, “Yeah, and every time he would say ‘With everything so sour, we deserve something sweet’.” You smile at the thought.

“I-, he was kind like that.” He wants to say more, but he stops himself.

His dad was the nicest man in the whole world. When you found out the news that he passed away, you cried a little. Your mum being your mum she didn’t understand it, claimed you didn’t know him enough to mourn. Regardless of how well you knew him, people who were so kind and loving don’t deserve to be taken from this world so quickly.

You see the look on Sunghoon’s face lighten up a little, the shadow over his eyes washing away and when he looked at you, the sparkle came back, “So, you can’t hate this place or else I can pull the dead dad took me here card.”

“Fine. I love it.” The words feign mocking when in actuality they are full of understanding.

The waitress from earlier brings over the drinks in a frosted glass with a lime wedge on the rim, “There you go! Added extra ice for my Ice Prince.” 

My. She could have said ‘The’.

It stirred up something within your chest. Jealousy? Okay but why are you getting jealous over this? You don’t know because you aren’t exactly his and you have never been the threatened type, so you don’t know what’s going on with you. 

“Food will be right out!” She hops away and she is back in a flash with the Paninis. 

What you don’t expect is Sunghoon to take both of them and add some condiments, opening up the middle to pour a slight bit of salt and some mayonnaise. 

“Excuse me, I don't need your hands all over my food.” Crossing your arms you wait for him to stop but he doesn’t. Instead, he shows you his hands, stretching them over the table.

“Look how clean they are, Sweets.” They are clean and oh-so pretty. Suddenly you’re jealous of the food that receives his touch, wishing it was you. You need to get a grip, first the waitress, and now a piece of toasted bread are the objects of your envy.

It’s like your crush from when you were little came back tenfold, with every second you spend with him that little innocent pash is turning into full blown infatuation. Now with added hormones, it’s like you’re drawn to him more than ever. It’s scary how quickly you fell back into your feelings, whatever they were.

“Y/N?” He brings you back to reality with his low voice, retreating his hand, “Lost you for a minute there.”

Passing you the food you thank him, “Sorry, happens a lot. I tend to overthink literally everything.” It’s a confession you haven’t let pass your lips. Not ever. “I learned to control it as I got older but if I’m upset I can’t stop it 99% of the time, even if it’s something simple like putting salt on this food.”

Sunghoon sees you physically overthinking what you just said. It’s the exact same face you made when you were inches from kissing him. 

He understands the situation earlier a little better now.

“So what’s upsetting you now, Sweets?” He asks, “You said you didn’t feel good enough, what happened?” 

Shuddering, you remember your words. You’re embarrassed that you blurted out your feelings so readily, “It’s nothing.” Then you remember, “Why did you think it was my mum?”

“If your mum is anything like mine, and I guarantee she is, then I don’t ‘think’ it was your mum, I know it.” There’s an empathy shining in his eyes, “What did she do?” 

“I got some good news, and when I told her about it,” Sighing, you try to aggregate your feelings. Sunghoon’s hand makes contact with your forearm as he sees you struggle. The soothing motion of his thumb calms you instantly, “she just dismissed it. Like my achievement wasn’t up to par with Mini’s.”

“What was the good news?”

“Nothing major I guess. I’m the top student at my University for the year and I’m receiving an award.”

Sunghoon is furious. Your mum had downplayed your achievement and now you don’t think it’s a big deal and he wasn’t having it, “Y/N. You go to Yonsei, right?” Once you nod he continues, “Then that IS major, what are you talking about?” 

“It’s not exactly a Championship medal.” Your shoulders slump.

“And?” Squeezing your arm he tries to make you see past your mother and her shitty attitude, “Some people would think your achievement means more than one of his, does that make Minhee’s less than yours?” You mumble a quick ‘of course not’, not grasping what he’s saying, “Then why do you think that way about your award? Sweets, it’s fucking amazing you should be proud of yourself.”

You are, it’s your mum who isn’t and that’s what you can’t get over. 

Instead of answering back you avoid the conversation altogether and start eating the food in front of you. 

One bite has you falling in love with the taste, the pesto combination with the cheese and parma ham melts in your mouth and makes your tongue dance. You owe this shabby place an apology.

Triumph etches onto Sunghoon’s face as he sees the same fireworks behind your eyes that he had when he first tried the food. He knew you’d like it.

“Oh, my days.” You stare at him wide-eyed, one hand covering your mouth. Never will you doubt him again.

“Told you.” He smirks and eats some of his own, the familiar aroma and your face make his chest fill with glee and gratification, “I’ve just learned two things about you in this last minute.”

“And what’s that?” You question, taking another bite.

“You love the food here and will never question my taste again,” Your eyes are still on the food but you nod to agree, “And you’re an avoider.”

What is that supposed to mean? 

“An avoider?” 

Sunghoon leans back and picks up a tissue, cleaning the crumbs from his fingers, “You changed the topic pretty fast when you didn’t want to have a conversation you’re uncomfortable with. You can’t accept what I’m saying is right, your achievement is just as mighty as all of Minhee’s and it IS a big deal.” 

Arguing with him about it is pointless. Does it mean you won’t though? No.

“It’s not that I'm not accepting what you’re saying,” it is, he thinks to himself,  “I just don’t need to air my drama or feelings to someone I don’t know.” 

“Believe it or not, asking questions and having conversations like this is how you get to know people,” Sunghoon pushed the food to the side and leaned forward, “I just want to get to know you.” 

You challenge him by matching his posture and leaning on the table, “Whatever happened to, oh I don’t know, what’s your favourite colour?”

“White. See, easy right?” He’s smug. Sunghoon isn’t trying to pressure you to answer the question, he just thinks if you speak about the issue, it’ll alleviate the burden. A problem shared is a problem halved after all. “How about you ask me anything at all, and I’ll answer it because I know that’s how you get to know me.”

“Anything at all?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why didn’t you kiss me earlier?”

Stunned. Shocked. Astounded. Whatever other synonym he could use, that’s exactly how he feels right now. For the first time in his life, he is speechless. How do you keep doing this to him? Never has anyone been so forthright with him.

Seeing his cheeks flush red and eyes dart around as if finding the answer in his brain you know you’ve won, “Not so eager to speak now, huh?” 

Exhaling, Sunghoon sits back, “You looked like you were going to pass out,” He begins his answer, “You got in your head about something and it made you second guess.”

“I was thinking about Minhee.”

Sunghoon’s face shrivels, “Sweets, I know we’re compared a lot but I didn’t think he’d be my competition with you too?” Sunghoon’s voice is playful but he is worried about the next words out your lips.

Stretching over the table you slap his chest, “Ew, no that’s disgusting! Don’t even think like that!” You’re appalled at even the inclination, “It’s just that, you’re Park Sunghoon, you said it yourself he’s your competition,” He goes to say something and you stop him, “in SKATING. You’re so disgusting.” Laughter fills your booth, food and drinks forgotten, “If I ever kissed you he would freak the fuck out.”

The boy across from you knows exactly what you’re talking about, more than know, “If Minhee wasn’t a factor, would you have kissed me back?”

“Yes.”

Responding before your brain has a chance to filter the words is also a downside to your overthinking mind. So many thoughts in one brain make it easier for slips like this to happen, but you aren’t too concerned about this one, he probably already knew you would have kissed him back there if you weren’t preoccupied with contemplation.

Just as you think you’ll get to speak about what transpired earlier, the waitress comes over to take your plates away, “All done?”

Sunghoon nods and goes to pull out his wallet to pay but as he pats himself down to find it, he remembers it’s in his coat - the coat you’re still wearing “Uh, Sweets?” He points to his coat trying to tell you it’s in there.

Smirking you search the inner pockets to find a Prada wallet. You could have some fun with this.

“That’s okay, Hoonie, I’ve got it.” You pull out a few £20 notes and hand them to the waitress, “It’s my treat tonight, didn’t I tell you that? Only the best for my hard-working man.” Making kissy faces at him, his face goes red and his lips go in a thin line. 

It wasn’t the fact you just paid £80 for a £12 meal with his money, although that will be addressed later on, it was the nickname and calling him your man that has him trying to control himself. The sweet albeit lightheartedly jeering way of your words made his heart tight in the best possible way. If there was a button board on Sunghoon’s chest, filled with all his emotions like annoyance, lust, happiness, solace, and aggravation, you had pushed every one of them tonight.  

Laughing you put the wallet back into his coat. He looks so cute when he goes red like that, it almost makes you want to treat him like an actual princess or stuff him in your pocket. Either way, you wanted to look after him in some form or other.

“Are you quite done now?” Sunghoon gains back his composure as he watches you chuckling away to yourself.

Suddenly, nothing was funny anymore when your phone goes off, flashing your brother's name on the screen. 

You have to go home and Sunghoon knows it too, “Y/N, I would keep you out all night if I could, but Minhee might send out a missing police report if I do.” 

Now that you’ve somewhat spoken the issue out loud, you think you’re being a bit over the top about it all but your body still has the overbearing weight placed on your shoulders. Facing your mum right now was the last thing you wanted but you know you can’t avoid her forever. 

“I’ll text him. He thinks I’m at Rina’s place telling her and Allen the news.” Quickly standing up you type a generic reply back, telling him you’ll be home soon.

Sunghoon keeps two steps behind you while you walk out of the cafe, his arm hovering by your side to guide you as you text and walk at the same time, he waves goodbye to the waitress and she wafts the cash in her face, fanning herself with his hard-earned money. All he can do is laugh and show his disbelief at her flaunting through his expression. 

“There. Sent.” You put the phone into Sunghoon’s coat pocket. You’re almost at his car when you hear him speak up.

“Hey, Sweets?”

“Hmm?”

Sunghoon grabs your left arm, twirls you around, and presses his lips against yours.

The action knocks the air from your lungs and your eyes widen. Park Sunghoon was kissing you. His palms cup each of your cheeks, his lips moving against yours as he backs you up until your back hits the side of his car. This is what you wanted back at the rink, to have the feeling of his mouth moulding to yours, except it was better than expected, it felt like heaven.

He can't seem to get enough of you as he fervently kisses your mouth, his tongue sliding along your lips, eliciting a soft moan from you that's music to his ears. It was a daring move to kiss you so suddenly, and in an ideal world, he would have asked for permission first. But he knows that might have sparked another bout of overthinking from you, and he couldn't risk losing this second chance to kiss you tonight.

Sliding his hands into your hair, he gently pulls your head back, granting him better access to your open mouth, deepening the kiss. Lost in the sensation of your lips, he doesn't even notice the subtle movement of your fingers dancing along his waist until they settle between his lower back and the top of his ass.

At this moment, nothing could stop you from kissing or touching him.

Except, perhaps, one person.

Your phone vibrates, indicating an incoming call, but you're too entranced by Sunghoon's lips and tongue to notice. Pressing his body against yours, he traps you between him and the car, the sensation of his hips against yours causing you to instinctively grind against him, using your hands to pull him closer.

However, in the intimate closeness, he can feel your phone vibrating against your body. As much as he wants to ignore it, he knows you can't. "Sweets, your phone," he murmurs between kisses, his hands dropping from your hair to reach into your pocket, even as your lips continue to chase after his. "It's Minhee; you better take it."

No way has he cock blocked you twice in one night.

Grumbling, you take the phone from Sunghoon and answer, “Hi Minhee…No, I wasn’t ignoring you, I was putting on my shoes…no no, you don’t need to pi-”

You pause mid-sentence when Sunghoon starts kissing your neck and squeezing your waist. What does he think he's doing? Glancing down, you catch his eyes sneakily looking up at you. Attempting to push him away only results in him biting down, his fangs teasing the verge of breaking skin. In any other situation, you might have found it hot, but with Minhee yapping in your ear, you don't have time to appreciate it.

“Look, I’m on my way home…I’ll walk, it's not that far…seriously, Minhee- Oh,” you moan involuntarily when Sunghoon kisses your sweet spot, and once he's found it, he doesn’t stop licking and nibbling, “Hoonie, stop it!” You remove the phone from your ear and whisper-shout at him.

“I love it when you call me that,” he smirks, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

Hearing Minhee’s voice come through the phone again, you lift it back up to your ear, “What? Oh, I stubbed my toe, look I’ll be home soon alright…Yes, Allen is here…you know he and Rina are together. I’m going to go, see you soon.” Hanging up, you sigh in exasperation.

Giving Sunghoon a few light whacks, you demand, “Why did you do that?” You're almost certain Minhee heard him, or at least now he might think you're hooking up with Allen.

Bringing his face back up to yours, Sunghoon just shrugs and kisses you again with as much fervour as before. His lips are addicting, and you don’t want to stop, but Rina lives 20 minutes from your house if you walk, and this cafe is at least a 30-minute drive. “Sunghoon, I need to go back,” you say between his insistent kisses.

“How long do I have?” He needs to know how long he can indulge in this before having to let you go.

“Not even a second. I’ll already be late even if we leave now.” When his forehead falls on yours you see the pain on his face, like you’re depriving him of a basic human need.

"Don't say that, tell your friend to phone and say you're staying with her tonight." Sunghoon can't stop his lips from capturing yours again. It's as if he's had a taste of you and doesn't want to give it up, especially now. His hand teases the waist of your trousers, tempting to dip in and touch you where you desperately need him.

Personally, you would love nothing more than to call Rina up and get her to lie, she would do it in a heartbeat but Minhee would never believe it, “I can’t. I never stay over when he has practice in the morning. Mum never wants to make a stop off to pick me up.”

“You’re killing me here.” He states breathlessly, his fingertips dancing down to your pussy as he ghosts your neck with his breath. He’s waiting on you to give him the green light but you are far too concerned about getting home.

He suddenly hates your mum a little more than before. If it wasn’t her dismissing your accomplishments, it was her inability to put you on her priority list, “Can’t you just skip his practice? He’ll have more, trust me he needs it.”

“Don’t ruin this.” You warn him from speaking any more about your brother. It does bring you back to reality just who you were kissing, but you can’t focus on that right now, your only concern is getting home.

Sunghoon apologises by kissing you again, this time more gently, like it came naturally to him, “I need to go home. No excuses.”

It isn't what he wants to hear, but he has to accept it. Stepping away from you, his gaze remains fixed on your lips, which are lush and swollen; he can only picture what they would look like if he had more time to toss you in the back seat. His mind immediately returns to you with the lever, and to be honest, he could throw a tantrum right now over the situation at hand. It was unjust that he couldn't just have you, and he wasn't sure if he'd ever get the chance again.

Moving to his side of the car he slides in and you follow suit. He uses the excuse of buckling your seatbelt for you to give you another kiss and it has you internally giggling and kicking your feet.

You do the same to him, grabbing the seatbelt from him and clipping him in, leaning over to press your lips against his soft ones. 

“All I need is 5 minutes,” He whispers against your lips and you laugh, swatting his chest. 

You can’t say you don’t ponder it, and when you see his hard on poking so slightly against his trousers, you look at the time and really wonder if you could, but you can’t risk Minhee even getting a whiff of this, “Next time.” 

Sunghoon's eyes change from desire to hope in real time, "There'll be a next time?" His cool and confident demeanour fades and is replaced with puppy-like grin as he realises you want more than what you had tonight.

“If you get me home in the next 25 minutes there can be.” You pose and with that, Sunghoon drives out of the car park and down the highway going 10 above the limit.

Reaching closer to your house you put a hand on his thigh as you speak, “Better to drop me off here, so Mini doesn’t see you.” You also have to fake that you walked home from Rina’s so if a big fancy car starts pulling up outside your house, he’s going to know something is up.

Sunghoon takes your hand on his thigh and brings it to his lips, maintaining eye contact with the road as he stops at the curb of your neighbour's house 2 doors down. His grip tightens on your hand as he looks at the time, “Got you here in 27 minutes, Sweets.” Proud of himself he adorns a smile that splits his face in half.

Tutting you pout at him, “I guess there can’t be a next time, so sorry Hoonie.” His stunned face was worth holding in your laugh to act like you’re serious, “If only you had gotten here 2 minutes quicker.”

“Come on,” He exasperated, “There were like 10 red lights in a row.” His thumb points back to where you just drove from.

It’s true, it was bad luck, but you liked playing with him like this. 

“Sorry, see you at the rink yeah?” You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to get out your side of the car, but Sunghoon isn’t letting it end here.

He stretches over to shut the door back over making you gasp, startled by the sudden move, “You don’t want to be a thief do you?” You think he’s going to hit out with something cheesy like how you stole his heart of something, but when his hand grips the coat you’re wearing you understand what he means, “Bad enough you gave my money away but now you’re trying to steal a £500 coat?” 

Perplexed by both the price and the unexpected accusation, your mouth hangs open. No wonder the coat is so cosy and warm—it costs most of your month's paycheck. Exiting the car, you impishly mutter a 'fine' as you remove the jacket, placing it on the passenger seat before walking away, feeling considerably colder than before.

Just as you reach the vicinity of your house, Sunghoon calls out, "Sweets?" You spin around to see him jogging up behind you, holding your phone. Ah, you put it in his coat pocket after Minhee's call. Taking it from his grip, you thank him, only to be surprised again when he says, "You also forgot this." What else did you even have on your person to forget?

Sunghoon's mouth quickly meets yours for the nth time tonight. A kiss. You forgot to kiss him.

Sighing, you realize you have to put an end to it. Lingering out in the open so close to your home practically guarantees Minhee will see. "Hoonie."

"Shh," he hushes you, continuing the kiss, "I know, but let me have it since there won't be a next time." A fake sad look takes over his face, his hands running up and down your sides.

"Ugh fine, since you gave me my phone I suppose I could spare you some time."  Crossing your arms, you act irritated, while his 'sadness' transforms into a self-satisfied smile. That was the dynamic between you both, always giving what you got, and you wanted to explore it more, no matter how difficult it was.

“See you at the rink then, Sweets.” Messing up your hair he skips back to his car like a kid on Christmas. He was the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. 

Spending these past few hours with Sunghoon was like nothing you had ever experienced before. He knew how to wash all of your worries and woes away better than some people you’ve known for years. And when he kissed you it sent shooting stars through your body. If only 8-year-old you could see what had just happened, she would burst with excitement.

With a smile on your face, you rapidly run into your house and up the stairs, trying to be quiet but also too lost in the dizziness from Sunghoon’s kisses. As you reach the top of the stairs, Minhee opens his door and gives you a quizzical look. Oh no, he didn’t see, did he?

“Why do you look like you won the lottery?” Phew, he hadn’t.

“Just, excited about getting the award, that’s all.” It wasn’t totally a lie, he would see right through you if you started to babble out any other excuse so you had to stick to something believable. You are happy about the award, there isn’t a doubt about it, but Sunghoon reassuring you throughout the night made you stop and acknowledge how happy you really were to receive it. Your mum was the one that ruined it for you.

Minhee follows you when you walk into your room, “Y/N? You know I would be there if I could right?” Facing him, you see how sorry he looks about the situation, “I tried to phone the company to move the filming but they can’t.” Of course, he would try to move it for you, that was the kind of brother he was. 

A surge of guilt overcomes your body. Here he was trying to move his schedule around, a big important schedule might you add, and you were out there kissing the one boy you shouldn’t be. If Sunghoon wasn’t such a threat to Minhee, you think they could go back to being somewhat friends, but that’s never going to happen.

“It’s okay, Mini. I know you can’t just cancel it.” Your voice is reassuring but his features still hold hurt.

“It’s not okay, Y/N. You’re the most important thing to me in this world, I want to be there for your big moments like you’ve been there for mine.” You could cry. Minhee wasn’t the type to show his emotions so being on the receiving end of such words makes you tear up a little, “Hey, Bubs, don’t cry.”

He hasn’t called you Bubs in so long, the childhood nickname growing out as you both got older. There was a bond between you and your brother, other siblings used to say how envious they were.

“I don’t want to speak ill of our mum but she was a bitch tonight. I should have said something.”

Shaking your head, you wipe your tears and look down before speaking, “Mini, it wouldn’t have helped.” Your voice cracks and your throat closes a little, “She’s always like that anyway.”

“It doesn’t make it right.” He says disapprovingly. 

Minhee pulls you into a tight hug and you instantly relax. Your brain starts to overthink everything again. The lack of proudness from your mother, the kisses from Sunghoon, and the brotherly affection you’re currently receiving. Could you have it all? Getting to know Sunghoon tonight, you don’t think you can leave it where you did. There was something there between you both, you fit together like skates to ice.

“I am so proud of you, Bubs.” Minhee strokes the back of your head, “and I might not be able to go to your ceremony, but when I beat that prick and come first at Nationals? I’m dedicating that to you. I promise you that.”

That prick…Park Sunghoon.

You couldn’t have it all.

taglist: @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @ariadores @chwesuh-imnida

[muffinpink02]

First Day

Summary - Its Rudy's first day at school, but its not her you have to worry about.

Warnings - unwell baby? a little suggestive chat but nothing crazy

7.00 am ‘Beep, beep, beep.’

You groaned as you sleepily stretched, turning off the alarm. Your tired eyes blinked a couple times before turning around. You blindly reached your hand out like you did everyday to cuddle up to the normally warm body next to you, but as you turned you were met with an empty space. You frowned, confused that your wife wasn’t on her side of the bed. 

But you had a feeling you knew where she was.

You sat up in bed, yawning at the now new earlier routine. You grabbed your fluffy nightgown, tying it around your waist. You left your bedroom, searching for your wife, but you didn’t have to look very far.

You smirked to yourself when you saw the bedroom door already open. You popped your head into your daughter's bedroom, smiling when you spotted the woman sitting beside the small bed, stroking the blonde curls from her twins face.  

The sight made you smile, but you could see the pensive look sitting across her face.

“Morning.” You whispered. 

Alexia’s eyes caught you, she smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Morning.” She grumbled back. 

Most parents dreaded this day for many reasons, but normally the anxiety and worry was for how their child would react when facing the first day at school, not the parent.

You knew Alexia had been dreading this day for a while. 

“Coffee?” You rubbed your sleepy eyes.

“Sí.” Her eyes lingered on the sleeping girl. 

“Are you going to wake her up or shall I?”

“No, I’ll wake her. She feels a little hot, come feel her head-”

“Ale.” You gave your wife a deadpan look. 

You had made a secret bet with yourself at how soon Alexia would try that card, but you would have lost your money because it was even sooner than you would have thought.

“Okay you wake her, I’ll start breakfast.” You turned to leave the room.

“She wants me to make my chocolate chip pancakes. I promised I’d make them today before she…”

You pressed your lips together, trying to hold back the giggle. Your wife could be so dramatic sometimes, a trait your 4 year old had definitely picked up from the grown woman.

“Goes to school. You can say it, baby.”

She shot you a look, but you only blew her a kiss back. 

“I’ll let you wake the princess.” You smiled as you left for the kitchen.

You put on a pot of coffee for you and Alexia while you got the ingredients ready for the chocolate chip pancakes. Once the coffee was brewed you poured the hot liquid into your personalised mugs. You eyed the clock on the wall, you had made sure to give the three of you enough time, knowing Alexia would drag her feet. 

You were ready to go in and see what was taking so long, until you heard the soft voices coming down the hallway. You smiled into your mug when you saw the girl cradled in Alexia's strong arms. Laughing at something the older woman said.

“Good morning, princess.” You smiled at your daughter, her sleepy hazel eyes were the spitting image of her mothers. 

“Good morning, mummy!” Rudy smiled widely at you, her blonde curls falling in front of her face.

“How are you feeling for your first day? Are you excited?” You asked with your best enthusiastic voice. 

Rudy eagerly nodded her head. “I’m so excited!” She squealed.

“We’re excited that you’re excited. Aren't we Mama?” You looked at your wife, urging her to share the encouragement. 

“Si, I’m so excited, princesa.” Alexia put on her best smile, but you could see through it, luckily your four year old couldn't. 

“Mama told me she's making your favourite breakfast.” You said as you started to make yours and Alexias own morning meal.

“Yay! Chocolate pancakes!” The girl threw her hands in the air, her feet kicking excitedly in Alexia's arms.

“Sí, my baby's favourite.” The older woman started covering the girl's face with quick kisses, making the girl squeal with laughter.

Alexia placed Rudy on the bar stool, pushing her closer to the breakfast table. 

The three of you began your morning routine, it was no different to when Rudy started nursery. Though that was only three days a week and she had only done three hours per day, but you could feel your wife’s anxiety in every move she made.  

As much as you teased the woman about her worries with Rudy going to school, you didn’t want her to feel anxious or upset. It was a hard day for the both of you but clearly Alexia was taking it a lot harder than you. 

You gently gripped her hips, bringing you both a few steps back out of ear shot from Rudy. 

“Hey.” You placed your hand under her chin, bringing your eyes together. “She’s going to be okay, you know that right?” 

Alexia sighed, she looked over at the four year old, happily colouring in her colouring book. 

“But what if she’s not? What if she hates it and she cries all day.” She pouted. 

You reassuringly circled your thumbs over her tight stomach. 

“That might happen, and I’d hate for her to feel like that, but she won’t feel like that forever, Ale.” 

The blonde only pouted more, she looked just like Rudy when she wanted something you had already said no to. You called it the ‘Putellas pout.’

“Come on. You can do it.” You kissed her pouty lips, pushing her to get on with your daughter's breakfast. 

Alexia groaned as she was pushed away, but she made Rudy's breakfast in a quick time. Even if she was apprehensive for Rudy to go to school she wouldn’t dare have the girl be late for her first day. 

The 3 of you ate your breakfast together, Rudy listed off all the new activities she was going to do on her first day, you decided not to spoil her joy and tell her that she was in fact not able to play football all day. 

“Right, stinky. Teeth time. 

“I’m not stinky.” The chocolate-faced girl giggled. 

“No, but you are smelly. Mama’s going to get ready with you. I’ll do your hair once you’re done. Sounds good?”

“Sí.” The four year old agreed. 

“Come on, princesà.” Alexia helped the curly headed girl down off the bar stall. 

“I’m going to get there first! She gently kicked the smaller blonde on her bum, laughing as she ran down the hallway. 

“No! Mama!” 

You chuckled as you heard the smaller feet running after her mature mother. You quickly tidied the kitchen of the morning mess and started to get yourself ready for training. You tagged teamed with Alexia as she finished helping Rudy get into her uniform. You could see your wifes demeanour becoming sombre as she fixed the girls socks.��

You grabbed your wife once more, pulling her into the hallway. Rudy took the opportunity to play with her mini football.

“Baby, come on. She's going to be fine. I promise you. She’s been excited since we explained it all to her. Even now she's not upset!”

“But what if she gets bullied? What if the other kids are mean to her and she has no one to play with? What if she has to sit alone at lunch?” Alexia's eyes started to mist, the Putellas pout quickly turned into a quiver.

Of course it broke your heart to see Alexia like this. The woman had always been the bigger worrier between the two of you, but when Rudy came along that had only intensified.

—------

There had been one particular time when Rudy was only 3 months old, and she had caught a nasty chest infection. 

Alexia first noticed the small raspy breaths while Rudy slept in her moses basket. She asked you to listen to it and you did, but you thought it may have just been some kind of milk phlegm. But you were wrong.

The next day Rudy was letting out little coughs. As soon as Alexia heard the third one she jumped in her car and drove to the pharmacy to get Rudy baby medicine.

The normally perfect sleeper of a baby had screamed throughout the night. You watched helplessly as her tiny lungs painfully jolted every time she coughed. Her little face turned pink as she struggled for breath. 

You and Alexia had done everything by the book and internet, but nothing settled her. You could tell she was in pain, her small little lips shook as she struggled to even cry.

Alexia paced up and down the hallways with Rudy in her arms. She tried everything to soothe the screaming baby, she bounced her, cuddled her, even sang for her, but she wouldn’t stop crying. 

You could see the panic in her face, it pained her to see Rudy like this, her small little body was still so fragile. 

An hour later and Rudy had started to heat up, you soaked a flannel with lukewarm water and laid it on her skin. It cooled her down but the crying never stopped. 

“Shhh, bebita. I know, I know. It’s okay. Come on.” Alexia’s large hands rubbed Rudy's bareback as she squirmed on her shoulder. 

“I think we should take her to A & E.” You suggested in the most calming tone you could muster.

You could tell Alexis was already nervous and so was you, but you wanted to stay as calm as you could, for both your sakes. 

“Sí, sí. I agree. Grab a bag and I’ll get her ready.” She nodded. 

“Okay.” 

You packed up a baby bag with all the essentials. Alexia was waiting at the door with a crying Rudy in the car seat. She looked so nervous.

When you arrived at the hospital you were seen straight away. The doctor examined Rudy, all while she was still crying. 

“I think she has a chest infection.” She said, as she listened to Rudy's chest through the stethoscope.

“W-What? Will she be okay?” Alexia asked nervously. 

“It’s the same if you or I caught it. It's just painful and unlike us she can't do anything but cry about it. It can sometimes go on its own, but I can hear a bit of phlegm on her chest and throat. I’ll give you some stronger medicine for it. She hasn’t had a rash has she?”

“No.” You said in unison. 

“Good. You caught it early. Well done. She’s definitely uncomfortable but she’s going to be okay.” The doctor smiled kindly at the pair of you, clearly noticing the worry on both your faces. 

“Thank you.” You smiled at the doctor as you took Alexia’s sweaty hand. She instantly started rubbing her thumb on your knuckles. 

The nurse fed Rudy some medicine, through a syringe. 

“It gets easier, trust me. Well, actually It’s when they start walking, that’s when they’re the most trouble.” The woman chuckled as she rocked Rudy, actually managing to calm her down. 

You and Alexia stared in awe, watching as she completely relaxed the small baby in her arms, you tried to mentally take pictures of the motion she rocked her with to save for later. You returned home with a sleeping baby. Her temperature had already dropped, though you could still hear the rasp on her chest but it was a lot softer then it was before. 

“I’ll put her in her bed.” Alexia gave you a tired smile as she made her way into Rudy's room. 

You nodded. “Okay, I’m going to jump in the shower.” 

You took a quick shower, as that’s all you ever knew them as these days, and made your way to your bedroom. You frowned in confusion, you would have thought Alexia would have been there. Once you were dressed you made your way to Rudy's room, your heart broke at the sight. 

“Oh Ale, baby.” You whispered.

The blonde was sitting on the floor, her hands in her head, crying so hard her body shook. You sat next to her, pulling her into your chest. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay. What’s going on? Hmm?” You asked as you rubbed her back like you did for your child. 

“I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do.” The blonde sniffled.

“Ohh, Ale. It's okay. It was a lot for us, we’re still learning. We won't know what to do for a lot of things that might happen.” You tried to reassure the crying woman. 

“But she wouldn't settle with me, she always settles with me. I couldn't help her.” Her tears streamed down her cheeks. “She was in so much pain. I just, I hated seeing her like that.” Alexia's already shaky voice broke at her words.

You felt your own eyes start to tear up seeing your wife like this. You could see how much the situation scared her, how out of control she felt. 

“I know, I know, but she needed more than just cuddles, she needed medicine, baby.” You cupped her wet cheeks, bringing her closer to your face. “You’re so good with her, Ale. You are the best at calming her down, she immediately stops crying when she's in your arms. She makes the biggest squeal when she sees you walk through that door.” You stroked her tears as you kissed your wife's lips, trying your best to reassure her.

“She adores you, I can see how safe she feels with you. She’s such a Mama’s girl, it's unreal.” You smiled as you thought about the bond the two shared. 

“Sadly we won’t always be enough. Sometimes she's going to go through tough times that we can’t control, but we will make it as easy as we can for her.” 

“I just wish I could always be there for her.” Alexia sniffled. Her crying finally came to a stop, but her lip still pouted. 

“I know baby.” You pressed a long kiss to her forehead. “Come. Let's get you in the shower. We can watch whatever film you want.”

Your wife smiled, allowing you to help her to her feet. Before you could move Alexia brought you into a hug, nuzzling her nose into your neck.

“You are the best Mummy. I am so lucky you are the mother to our child. I love you so much, amor.” She connected your lips with hers, bringing you into a deep kiss. You let yourself get lost in it, the stress of the day slowly melting away. It always did, being with the person you felt most safe with. You gently pulled away, as you heard Rudy stir a little. 

But Alexia only groaned as you pulled away.

You chuckled as her lips tried to chase yours.

“Did you want to watch a film or?-”

You had to hold back a laugh, as Alexia dragged you both into your room. The film clearly long forgotten about.

—--------

“There we go, all done. You look beautiful, princess.” 

Rudy smiled at herself in the mirror,  evidently happy with her ponytail. 

“Gràcies, mummy.” 

“You’re welcome, my baby. Right, get your shoes on, we have to leave in two minutes.” 

“Okay, mummy.” Rudy happily skipped to the front door. 

You smiled at her joy, you were so relieved she was excited for school. Though, honestly it made sense, Rudy wasn't a shy child. Having grown up around games since she could open her eyes, she was used to being around crowds of people, not to mention all the different characters she interacted with when it came to the team. 

If she wasn't at nursery she was with you and Alexia at training. 

And the girls loved Rudy, it was always cheers and whoops, when the girl entered the room.  She had fitted into the group so easily, it was as if she had always been there. As soon as she could start to form words the girl would always have someone to talk to, chewing their ears off about her friends at nursery or what her favourite animal was that day. 

The girls were always happy to take turns entertaining the baby Spaniard. You’d mostly find her hanging off of Mapi’s arms, or squealing when Lucy threw her (sometimes dangerously high) in the air, she had learnt quickly that they were the biggest kids in the group. Or if she wanted her down time, you'd spot her drawing with Salma and Ingrid, sharing her crayons with the older women.  

She had a special little bond with each of the girls, and you and Alexia loved it.

You were brought back from your thoughts when Alexia’s phone started to ring.

“Hola Mapi, sí, sí, She’s just putting her shoes on.” 

You walked into the hallway where the two blondes were, Rudy sitting on the bench beside the door.

“Rudy, it's your tietes, they want to wish you good luck for your first day.” Alexia smiled as she put the screen in front of Rudy, who had actually managed to put her shoes on the right feet today. 

“Tia Mapi! Tia Ingrid!” The four year old shouted excitedly, as she saw her aunties on the screen.

“Hola, chica!” Mapi shouted back, her excitement matching the 4 year old as usual.

“Hola chicken, are you excited for your first day?” You heard Ingrid ask.

“Sí! It's going to be the best day. I'm going to make lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots….. and lots-”

“Sí, princesa, I think they get it.” Alexia chuckled.

“Aye! Let her finish! What are you going to make lots of chica?” Mapi shot back.

“Lots of friends!” Rudy through her hands in the air like she had just discovered gold. 

“Sí! You'll make so many friends, chicken!” Ingrid smiled brightly.

“Just don't forget you already have a best friend.” Mapi pouted, while also getting a nudge and an eye roll from Ingrid.

“Rudy, don’t listen to her, you can make as many best friends as you want.” The raven haired girl assured.

Rudy only nodded, giggling at her tia’s. 

“And make sure you tell me if anyone is mean to you, I have no shame in fighting a 4 year old.” Mapi stated. You found it a little concerning at how serious she sounded.

“Mapi!” Ingrid shouted.

“What? I will! No one messes with my Rudy.” Mapi nodded to herself.

You could see Ingrid shaking her head in disbelief. You and Alexia shared a chuckle at the couple. 

“Anyways…we hope you have a great day, chicken. We will see you tomorrow and you can tell us all about it. I think I have to teach your tia Mapi about manners.” Ingrid smiled all too sweetly. You laughed when you saw Mapi’s eyes widen in panic.

“Ok, bye tia Ingrid, bye tia Mapi.” Rudy waved her little hands at the screen.

“Bye chicken, we love you.” Ingrid and Mapi waved back through the phone.

“Love you too.” Rudy shouted, her little legs swaying back and forth on the bench 

The call ended, Rudy jumped off the bench and grabbed her Lion King backpack.

“Ready!” 

—------

You stood with Alexia in the school playground, the sound of children playing and laughing filled your ears. You spotted some parents having to console their children who were clinging on to their legs, some even in tears. 

Rudy was between you and Alexia, one of her little hands slotted in yours and the other in Alexias. You looked over at your wife, her face was unreadable, her hazel eyes were darting around at the other parents and children. You looked down at her twin, who also had the same pensive look, but her eyes were showing an excitement that her mothers wasn't. 

“Hey, shall we do swings before you go in, princess?” 

“Yeah!” Rudy started to jump, giggling at the offer. 

“Ready, Mama? You looked over at the older blonde, giving her a knowing look.

Alexias eyes caught yours, you could see she was thankful for the distraction. She smiled lovingly at you. 

“Sí, let's do it.” She nodded, smiling down at the young girl. 

“Okay, 3, 2, 1!” 

You and Alexia swung the squealing girl into the air, you smiled widely as you heard her infectious little giggle. You looked over at your wife who finally had a real smile on her face for the first time today. You swung the mini blonde a few more times, until a bell began to ring. 

You and Alexia stopped swinging Rudy. You took a deep breath, readying yourself to say goodbye to your baby. Of course you were nervous, and even sad at the thought of not having Rudy around like you always did, like Alexia you had been feeling all the same things she had felt, but you know you had to be the stronger one between the pair. 

Alexia bent down, taking Rudy's hands into her own, they looked tiny in comparison. You could see the older woman was trying her hardest not to cry, you knelt down beside her, putting your hand on her thigh, rubbing her leg soothingly.

“Okay princesa, make sure you listen to your teacher. And if you get scared or upset, she will be there to help you, okay?”

Rudy nodded, already getting distracted as she watched the other kids start to gather up near their new teacher. 

“You’ll have the best day. We will be right here when you finish.” You stroked her small whispers of hair behind her ear. You felt your own eyes start to water.

“Sí. I will!” Rudy smiled as she looked at the pair of you. She gently placed a hand on yours and Alexia's cheeks, it was like she was trying to reassure you. Her hazel eyes looked deep in thought, she looked just like Alexia when she pulled that face. 

“I love you, mama. I love you mummy.” She whispered with the cutest voice.

You could have picked the four year old up there and then, and happily taken her home and declared she would never need school, but you knew you couldn't do that. 

“We love you, princesa.” You could hear the shake in Alexia’s voice.

“So, so much.” Alexia could hear it in yours.

All three of you leaned in, hugging each other in your own little group hug. You tried your hardest to keep the tears at bay, as you held the two most important people in your life, pulling them in even closer.

After a couple seconds you felt Rudy start to wiggle, having already given you enough of her time. 

“Bye, I’m going now.” She pulled back, turning around eagerly to start her first day of school.

Alexia and you stood up, both finding each other's hands. 

“Bye, baby!” Alexia called out. 

Rudy turned and waved at you both, you felt your first tear slip, thankful she had already turned forward.

You watched as the mini blonde walked to the rest of the group. Happily standing beside them all, you smiled at her shorter stature against the rest. She was Alexia's twin in many ways, but she had yet to inherit the height of her mother. 

You noticed a girl sniffling next to Rudy, she had clearly been crying, her rosy little cheeks and wet eyes were a sad thing to see, even if she wasn't yours. She was one of the more nervous ones to start her first day at school. You watched on as Rudy said something to her, it was too far to hear what she said, but when you saw Rudy offer her hand out to the crying girl, your heart melted when she eagerly took it into her own.

“Did you see that?” Alexia squeezed your hand.

“Yeah.” You started to feel your lip quiver. 

“She’ll be okay, won’t she?” Alexia asked, but you could tell she was convincing herself more then asking you. 

“Yeah, she will. She’ll be absolutely fine.” 

You watched Rudy walk into the building with her new little friend by her side. You couldn’t believe your baby girl was actually going into school. It only felt like yesterday when you first held her in your arms. 

The curly headed blonde gave one more look to you both, giving you one last wave before she disappeared into the building. 

You felt Alexia thumb run over your knuckles, like she always did. It made you smile as you looked over at your wife. You spotted a single tear running down her cheek, you wiped it away just like you did with your daughter. 

“Shall we get a milkshake?” Alexia grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles. 

“Best idea ever.” You chuckled as you both began to walk out of the small playground.

She wrapped her arm around your shoulder, pulling you in to kiss your cheek. 

“Amor?” 

“Yes, my love?”

Alexia had a mischievous look on her face as she caught your eyes. 

“Shall we have another one?”

“Another what?” You questioned her as you pulled your keys to unlock your car. 

“Another baby.” 

You laughed out loud, looking at the woman who now sported a huge smile on her face.

“Maybe.” 

Alexia's eyes popped open in surprise. “Really?”

You sat in the driver's seat, chuckling at your wife's excitement. You looked over at the blonde, you could see the anxiety of today's stress slowly slipping from her features. You leaned forward, indicating you wanted a kiss. Your wife mirrored your movements, bringing your lips together. 

You leaned back, your lips just inches apart. You felt your heart race as you looked over your wife's pretty features. “Let me have my milkshake and I'll think about it.” 

Alexia dipped her fingers into your hair, bringing you into a deeper kiss. After a couple of minutes she pulled back. Smiling at you when you tried to chase her lips.

“Deal.”

[caramelkoo]

kiss me? jjk.

the one with gentle hands and endless kisses

genre : husband!jungkook, "i can do it myself"!reader, "i know, but let me do it for you"!jungkook

warnings : fluff, more fluff, brief smut, words of affirmation as love language, jungkook takes care of her, oc is so relatable i cried, jungkook being the best husband ever. let me know if i missed something.

a/n : hello besties, here's a little fluffy ☁️ gift for you since im obsessed with husband koo. tysm for loving my previous writings im beyond grateful. the fact that people out there are reading what i write is making me jump from happiness. enjoy and you're loved.

"There she is, my favorite girl" Jungkook's plasters a sloppy kiss on your cheek. His sweaty body connecting with your freshly showered one but you don't mind. Not when the first thing he says is that you're his favorite girl after his early morning gym session. The phrase never fails to make you turn red.

Last night Jungkook had briefly mentioned his wish to have chocolate covered strawberries because apparently, the ones you make are his absolute favorite. So here you were, making chocolate covered strawberries for him.

"I missed you" he lifts himself up on the hard counter and leans back on his palms. He attempts to dip his index finger into the melted chocolate but you swat his hand away.

"You were literally gone for two hours and get down the counter, Jungkook!!!! You're all sweaty" you warn him.

"But you like me sweaty" he gives you the same look he hits you with when you don't let him eat the last piece of pizza. Pouty and adorable.

"No doubt about it but I'll have to clean it again, honey." when the look doesn't leave his face you speak again.

"Okay if you get down now, I'll let you fuck me in the shower" you've barely even finished the remark before he hops off the counter and runs towards the bathroom.

"I HAVE THE BEST WIFE EVER" his voice trails off.

Knowing the fact that he'll not let you live it down if you don't live up to your words, you wipe your hands and join him in the shower. You let him eat you out under the cold water and then pound into you as you struggle to keep your knees from giving out.

The loud sneeze echoes through the room as you wipe your nose which now feels like the 50th time. Tiring.

When you came out of the shower you were perfectly fine. When your nose started stinging, you didn't think much of it then too. Before you knew it, you were sneezing three times in a row with a fever which only keeps getting worse.

Jungkook had immediately wrapped you up in a fluffy blanket and asked you to take a nap as he cooks some porridge for you. At the risk of sounding selfish, whenever you're sick you're tend to crave his closeness more and more. You hate it though, you know it puts him at the risk of sickness but you can't help it. He looks cozy and so so comfy, you just want to snuggle with him and doze off.

After all, he's your safe place, your own personal haven with a gorgeous smile and warm embrace and he's well aware of the fact that you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself when you're sick, perfectly capable of running yourself a bath when you want to, skilled enough to wear that piece of jewellery around your neck.

However, he'd still run a bath for you with rose petals and scented candles, still ask you to lift your hair up when he clicks the pendant close before placing a kiss at the nape of your neck, still cook for you when you're sick and kiss you goodnight before he takes you in his arms and falls into deep slumber, still whisper into the darkness that he wishes he could take away all your pain upon himself thinking you're fast asleep.

Just like now as he places the tray, the bowl of porridge on top of it alongside your medicines, a glass of water and gummy bears because he knows that you're not fond of the bitter aftertaste of the medicines.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he touches your clammy forehead before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Feeling any better, love?"

When you shake your head, his eyebrows crinkle in worry.

"I feel like throwing up but when I try nothing comes out" your lips open with a sigh.

His face gets remarkably worried. Not like he's wearing any other expression ever since you've started sniffing and stifling. You feel like shit. Earlier in the morning he's informed you about Namjoon's house warming party and was so excited to visit his best friend. Now he has to stay here and take care of your sick self when he should be with him, having the time of his life.

"I'm sorry you couldn't go to the party" your voice is brittle and you stop yourself from breaking down right there.

"Honey no, you're more important to me than any fucking party. Are you crazy? Besides, he would have poked my eyeballs out had I gone there and told him I left you here, sick and all by yourself."

The kiss that he places on your forehead is soft and tender causing you to close your eyes and bask in the love behind it.

"C'mon, get up and eat something. You'll feel so much better with your tummy full."

When you find it hard to get up all by yourself, you know it's more than just a cold now. You feel a headache coming.

Jungkook helps you sit up against the headboard as he picks up the bowl, taking a spoonful of porridge and holding it out for you to eat.

Your lips quiver and a sob threatens to break out, you hang your head low so he can't see the tears forming behind your droopy eyes but fail when your chest shakes with a sob.

Jungkook panics, quickly placing the bowl on the tray beside him, "Hey, what's going on? What's happening?"

You face him and open your arms, "Can you hold me for a while?" You're crying now. Tears stream down your face as your nose stings even more.

He wastes no time to take you in his arms, hands rubbing your back and then holding the back of your head as if he's cradling a baby. Holding you oh so gently like you might break and maybe you will. Maybe you will break because of how overwhelmed you are and how lousy you feel.

"It's alright, honey. Cry all you want, I'll hold you."

So you do, letting your head fall on his shoulder you cry out all the emotions you're feeling hoping you'd feel lighter by the time you're done. You're thankful for his silence. He understands, he always does and you understand him in return.

Your husband's hands don't stop moving for once. Constantly rubbing your back, running through your hair, gently massaging the back of your neck to release any tension. It's so funny how a tattooed hand like that which might look intimidating to strangers can be so soft and tender for you. For everyone in general, Jungkook is indeed the most gentle person you've ever known.

After what feels like eternity, you lift your head and break the hug. You lean back against the headboard as he speaks.

"Do you wanna tell me what caused that?" he asks in a careful voice.

You're still not in the space to talk so you shake your head and say, "Maybe later?"

"Whenever you feel like it, I'm here. But I wanna say something and I want you to listen carefully alright?" he waits for your nod before continuing,

"When we were about to get married, I had a chat with your father. He told me that you have a tendency to feel like a liability on people and you beat yourself up over somebody taking care of you, doing things for you, showing up for you because you'd rather do them by yourself. And then I promised him something. I promised him that I'll do anything, and I mean anything to not make you feel like that. I will manage to eat three bites less but I will never let you sleep with an empty stomach."

He kisses the back of your hands as you sniffle, scared that the tears might come back.

"So when I do things like this for you, skip my best friend's house warming party for you or doing anything for you for that matter, It's not because you're a burden. It's because you're mine and you'd do the same for me. I want to take care of you, honey. I like to. I love you the most _____, you're my everything and I can't fucking breathe when you're suffering like this."

Well fuck, the tears are back.

"Now, finish this and let me hold you to sleep" he helps you eat the porridge before you gulp down the medicines. The gummy bears follow.

With his help you lie back down on the bed as he saunters back to the kitchen, promising you to be back soon.

You're not surprised Jungkook knew the reason you broke down. You wouldn't expect any less from him and as always he has a way of making you feel loved and mattered with his words. Your husband is a gift and you want this particular gift in all your lifetimes, in every form.

He comes back with a bottle of water in his hand. He places it on the nightstand and joins you on the bed.

You stop him with a hand on his chest when he drops his head down to kiss you on the lips.

"You're gonna catch a cold" you warn.

"As if I care. Please baby, let me kiss you. You know I can't sleep without kissing you goodnight"

The chuckle that leaves you makes Jungkook's whole face light up.

"Only if you let me trace your tattoos"

"I promise" he says with the softest smile on his face.

Pouting your lips, you invite him for a kiss which he gladly places on your lip. His pillowy ones lingering for some seconds before pulling away. He kisses your cheeks next, your temples, your nose, your jaw and then finally, both of your eyes which were now damp from all the crying. Although, that didn't seem to bother him.

"I love kissing you"

When he plops back down on the bed, he pulls your entire body on top of his with your head tucked into the crook of his neck. He feels so warm and cozy, you never want to let go. He would be fine with that too.

"Honey?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you so fucking much. Let's make a baby when you get better"

"I love you too, husband. I wouldn't mind having a little one like you"

[ambers-archive]

got love struck ❤︎ ࿐ ۫ .˚ ✧ ˚　

in which spencer wants your anniversary to be perfect, but everyday is perfect with you. word count: 2.1k cw: purple scarf cameo, idiots in love, fluff, happy ending, established relationship. (english isn't my first language, minimal proofread!) pt1 what if all i need is you (can be read as standalone)

Spencer closed the tab on his computer, a frustrated scowl forming on his lips. For days, he’d been scouring the internet, spending sleepless nights hunched over his desk, searching for the perfect anniversary gift for you. It was your first year together, and everything had to be perfect.

But nothing felt right. Every idea he considered was quickly dismissed. He shut his eyes, trying to quiet his overthinking mind.

You two met at his favorite coffee place, he noticed you right away when he realized you stole his seat. 

You had yourself perched against the chair nuzzled against the rest of the wall. 

And after a week of ogling you across the room he finally got enough courage to start a conversation over a book you were reading. Then with shaky fingers and some mumbling he finally had the courage to ask you out, suggesting a tour of the city since you just moved.

Spencer knew his demanding work schedule wasn’t easy on you. You were so patient, understanding, and kind—perhaps too kind, he often thought. Canceled dinner dates, postponed trips, missed laughs, and missed love were all too common. Yet despite it all, you always met him with a reassuring smile.

“I know you’re busy saving lives,” You had told him once, as the two of you cuddled in bed after the third missed date in a row. He hadn’t had anything better to offer than a string of apologies, and he feared one day it wouldn't be enough.

“Hey pretty boy, what’s got you so upset?” Morgan asked, his voice pulling Spencer out of his thoughts.

Spencer took a moment to collect himself before turning to Morgan. “I’m trying to figure out a good anniversary gift for her.”

In a room full of profilers he didn’t think they’d be so keen on his social cues, but of course they noticed him constantly fidgeting and sneaking quick glances at his phone. 

Emily was the first to find out about you.

The teasing lasted months.

Penelope was rushing toward his desk with her tea in one hand and Morgan’s coffee in the other.

“You have to go all out!” Garcia exclaimed, barely containing her excitement. “Chocolates, flowers—oh, please tell me you’ve got the whole day planned!”

“Calm down, baby girl,” Morgan laughed, taking his coffee. “I’m sure our genius over here has something in mind.”

Spencer sighed. “I want to make it special since it’s our first anniversary, but I just don’t know what she’d like.”

“Well, what are her love languages?” Penelope asked, ready to unleash her vast knowledge of relationships.

“I think it’s quality time,” Spencer replied, a small smile playing on his lips as he thought about you. “She’s always engaged in our conversations, making strong eye contact, putting her phone away, asking questions. She also lingers after dates.”

He paused, recalling the moments you’d linger on your doorstep after he drove you home, the way you’d breathe him in after a kiss, your forehead resting against his. “She never seems in a rush to leave, like she values every moment we spend together.”

Morgan grinned, leaning back in his chair with a knowing look. “There you go, pretty boy. Think about what she loves, what makes her happy. That’s the key.”

Spencer nodded picked up his phone, scrolling through the list he’d made of all your favorite things.

He stopped on a picture of you smiling back at him from the screen, a photo he’d taken during one of your many picnics. Your hair had been flowing in the wind, your eyes crinkled with your smile as you explained the meaning behind one of your favorite songs. It was the same photo that graced both his phone and laptop backgrounds.

“She loves almost every kind of art,” he whispered, his heart swelling with affection. “Renaissance literature, realism paintings, classic books. And she’s really outdoorsy too.”  He whispered, his heart expanding, pumping. thump, thump- laced with love.

He thought about the countless picnic dates, the times you’d coaxed him out of bed for a run or a hike. His mind wandered to what you might be doing right now—your second class of the day had likely started, and he imagined you taking notes, doodling in the margins.

Penelope and Morgan exchanged amused glances, their lips quivering with smiles as they listened to Spencer’s lovesick ramblings.

“Looks like Reid’s got it bad,” Morgan whispered to Garcia, who stifled a giggle behind her hand.

“He really does,” she agreed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer hadn’t seen you in two weeks, four days, twenty-three minutes, and fourteen seconds—far too long. He didn’t want to waste another moment as he approached your door, your favorite flowers in hand. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait another second, as you opened the door before he could even knock.

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. Every day, he found himself falling for you more and more. You gave him a shy smile, stepping out to wrap your arms around his taller frame. He hugged you back immediately, burying his head in the crook of your neck. When you finally pulled apart, he took a proper look at you, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sunlight. In that moment, and in every other, you were the epitome of beauty—a vision that left him utterly mesmerized.

“These are for you,” Spencer said softly, offering you the peonies. He realized they paled in comparison to you, but nonetheless, he held them out.

“You never forget them, Spence,” you said, your voice equally soft. Spencer chuckled, half-offended that you’d think he ever could—eidetic memory or not.

“I’m glad you like them,” he replied, taking your hand as he led you to his car, opening the door for you. “I have the whole day planned.”

“Yeah?” Your head rises of its own accord against the car seat. 

"I really want it to be perfect." 

It’s already perfect because how much better can it get you thought? You're in his car, your favorite songs playing in the background and his hand never leaves your side. 

“It already is.” You say grazing your thumb over his knuckles. 

You finally reach the place away from everyone else. “There’s a trail nearby and a perfect place for a picnic.” Spencer whispers, slipping his hand into yours again. 

It fits so perfectly.

You smile, squeezing his hand “Lead the way.” 

In a field of daisies Spencer pulls out a blanket, carefully placing his gifts as he pats the spot next to him. You nestle against his taller frame, he smells like sandalwood, coffee, and home. 

“What are you thinking about?” You ask him, he smiles down at you playing with your hair absentmindedly. 

“You. Always you.” You get the familiar, but nevertheless oh-so welcome kick in your stomach every time he smiles at you. 

“What about you?” He asks in return, and you shrug, not able to convey all your emotions. 

“I'm thinking that I want my gifts.” You say slightly pouting.

With a shy smile, Spencer untangled himself from you and reached for the presents. He handed you a beautifully wrapped package and a small painting, both wrapped with care.

“I hope you like them,” he said, his voice tinged with nervousness.

Your eyes lit up as you unwrapped the gifts, revealing a limited edition of Sylvia Plath’s work—a book you’d mentioned offhandedly that you’d been searching for. Your gaze met his, overflowing with emotions you hadn’t known were possible. You always believed in love, but this? This was beyond anything you’d imagined. It made all the heartbreaks of the past worth it because they led you to him.

You abandoned the gifts, flinging yourself into his arms. He laughed, catching you as you both tumbled onto the grass. Spencer buried his face in the crook of your neck, holding you close.

“They’re perfect,” you whispered. “Thank you so much.”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed. “I’m glad you like them,” he replied, still holding you.

“How did you even find it?” you asked, marveling at the book.

“Brittney Johnson—remember the missing persons case we solved? Her dad’s a book collector. He was really grateful and said if we ever needed a favor, he’d be happy to help.”

You smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness. You’d spent so long building walls around yourself, convincing yourself you didn’t need a relationship. But with Spencer, those walls crumbled before you even had a chance to put them up.

“I also wrote you a card, my handwriting isn't the best, but I know you like words of affirmation” Spencer said, reaching into his bag. But before he could present it, dark clouds gathered overhead, and raindrops began to fall, dampening the ground.

“Seriously?” Spencer groaned, quickly sheltering you with his jacket. The chocolate and sandwiches were ruined, along with your clothes. The two of you hurried to the car, making sure the gifts were safe, and finally found shelter inside.

“I’m sorry our picnic was ruined, angel,” Spencer said, helping you fix your hair.

“It’s not ruined, Spence. We can have a night in, order some Chinese, and finish a new episode?” you suggested, trying to cheer him up.

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed, though he couldn’t hide his disappointment as he started the car.

𐙚 ✱ ❤︎ ࿐ ۫ .

Back at your apartment, the two of you hurried inside, drenched from the rain. You kicked off your shoes and quickly disappeared into your bedroom, returning with dry clothes for both of you. You handed Spencer his sweater, the one you’d “borrowed” long ago, and couldn’t help but smile as he accepted it.

“Hey, I was looking for this,” he said, pulling on the warm sweater.

“Sorry I stole it,” You replied, not the least bit apologetic.

He shook his head, following you to the kitchen, where you were setting up takeout containers on the counter. The sweater smells like you and he thinks he should let you keep it. It smells like cherries, winter warmth and like the love of his life.

“I love that you did. I feel closer to you whenever I wear it.”

You blushed, grateful he couldn’t see your flushed cheeks as you turned to grab plates. Spencer wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“This isn’t how I planned our anniversary,” he admitted, his voice soft. “I wanted everything to be perfect.”

You turned in his arms, cupping his cheek as you gazed into his warm eyes. “Spence, it was perfect. It’s not about the flowers or the gifts or the picnic. It’s about being with you.”

Before Spencer could respond, you gently stepped out of his embrace, suddenly remembering you still had his gift to give.

“I have a surprise for you,” you said with a smile, rummaging through the gift bag. You walked back to him, holding up a beautifully knitted purple scarf.

“My mom’s been teaching me how to knit, and this is the first thing I made. It’s for you. I know you get colds easily, and keeping your neck and chest warm can help reduce the shock of inhaling cold, dry air, which irritates your respiratory tract. I even stitched my name on the end, so a part of me is always with you.”

Spencer’s face lit up as he accepted the scarf, immediately noticing how it carried your familiar scent.

“This is so thoughtful,” he said, his eyes soft with appreciation. “I don’t think anyone’s ever been this concerned about my colds. Although, just so you know, wearing a scarf alone won’t prevent you from catching a cold. Colds are caused by viruses, usually spread through respiratory droplets or by touching contaminated surfaces.”

You smiled at his rambling, finding comfort in the way his mind worked—it was like a love language all its own. Chuckling softly, you wrapped the scarf around his neck, adjusting it just right.

“It’s the thought that counts, angel,” he said sincerely, his voice filled with warmth. “It’s already my favorite scarf.” He then brought your knuckles to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to them.

It's in the quiet, messy, beautifully imperfect moments like this, spencer thinks: where love is felt in every heartbeat, every glance, and every shared breath.

thank you so much for reading <33

[ningvory]

pervert sister’s bff gp!karina + noncon n darcyphilia? say that you were minejong’s younger sister (03 liner) and she went out to get some snacks for movie y’all were watching and rina took that perfect opportunity to pounce on you and force you to suck her cock! she couldn’t but bust twice bc your virgin mouth felt so good n tight around her big cock

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ 1,042 words • 2k event

a/n: THIS IS SO!?!? wanted to combine these two cuz it’s like the same concept so enjoy!

CW: noncon, sister’s bff karina, g!p, pervert karina, forced oral (k.receiving), darcyphilia, crybaby reader, not proofread

movie night with your older sister meant her best friend, jimin would be there too. not that you didn’t like jimin, it was just that every time she came around you would have to lock yourself up in your room because you were “too young” in minjeong’s eyes. you never understood her logic because you were only a year younger than her.

but today was only different because it was a movie marathon that minjeong has been dying to do and she surprisingly let you sit with her and jimin to watch.

jimin on the other hand, never minded when you had to tag along, in reality she fuckin’ loved it! unknowingly to you she the hots for you. ever since your clueless sister, minjeong started bringing her around you, you two really did become close.

by now it was 5:47 pm and the golden rays of the sunset began peaking out the windows and onto the couch that you and jimin were comfortably on.

“guys! there’s no snacks or food, i’ll run to the store! need anything?” minjeong yelled from the kitchen. you and jimin were in the living room watching the little mermaid, the movie you’ve been wanting to watch since it came out last year.

“nah, i’m good! just bring back something good!” jimin responded, you’ve been craving some chocolate pocky so your ears chimed up immediately, “can you get me chocolate pocky please!” you yelled hearing her grab her keys and gave a short response to you before closing the door and locking it.

perfect, the older girl thought, biting her cheek to hide her excitement.

around eight minutes go by and you were focused on the film in front of you, you then felt jimin snake her arm around you waist, digging her sharp acrylic’s into your warm flesh, forcing you to hiss and flinch unexpectedly. your attention went onto her, hands on top of hers trying to pry her away while silently pleading for her to stop

“unnie..stop please!” you plead to her, eyes beginning to flood with tears, trying to pry her hands off of you.

the pain becomes unbearable to the point you need to get up and try to move away from her but as soon as you made an attempt to get up, her hand immediately leaves your waist and wraps tightly around your neck, pushing you back into the couch.

the impact made you yelp before staring up at jimin, who was staring you down like you did something wrong, “u-unnie? have i done something wrong? you’re starting to scare me!” you babble, tears rolling down your face like a waterfall. jimin coo’s, leaning down to kiss the tears away, “hm? what haven’t you done baby? you just love doing this to me, hm? got me hard and pent up from you just looking so fuckin’ pretty every time i’m near..get on your knees, baby.” jimin whispers in your ear, letting go of your neck. you frantically rush to the floor in front of her, confused on why she has you on the floor but too scared to ask.

she removes her shorts and her boxers, revealing her thick, rock hard cock to you. your eyes are immediately drawn to it and up at her, hoping she won’t actually do what you think she’s gonna do.

she grips your hair, pressing her precum-covered cock against your closed lips. you kept you eyes and lips closed, praying that jimin would get the memo that you didn’t want this and she’ll leave you alone, but you knew the answer deep down.

when she figures she’s unsuccessful with this attempt, she uses force, forcefully pulling on your hair, making you yelp, mouth opening and hand going to your hair to try and ease the pain. she wasted to time, pushing her thick cock all the way into your mouth, earning a choke from you, eyes looking up at hers.

“s-shit! don’t looking at me like that, baby, ‘jus gonna ruin your perfect face and body even more,” jimin grunted, pushing your head down to the point where where your nose is touching her pelvis.

a smile you’ve never seen from her appears on her face when she see’s how wide your mouth is from the stretch of her cock. fuck, she would have to train your little virgin throat to take her and only her cock.

she slowly pulls out of your mouth, only to thrust right back in, not letting you catch a break, gagging and choking on her dick repeatedly when she begins to thrust in and out of your mouth repeatedly. “so cute, gagging on my dick, don’ worry..gonna train your throat to take my dick..” jimin moans, hips begging to buck into your mouth, forcing more tears and muffled coughs outta you.

“ahh~ shit—gonna cum! and you better fuckin’ swallow it all.” she grunts, the grip on your scalp even tighter.

she lets out a long gasp before three hot spurts of cum spill into your aching throat. she pulls away, yanking your hair back to pull your face up, watching you swallow all of her seed before you open your mouth, showing her that you swallowed it all. she smiled, her normal demeanor coming back, as she leans down to kiss your lips and dress herself back up.

she brings you back to the couch, sitting you down with her and bringing the cover over the both of your legs. as jimin began to cover all of her traces of what went down, you began to cry silently until your throat burned and begged for you to let it out until you did.

“shh~ it’s okay,” jimin coo’d pulling you closer, laying you on her chest and patting your back, letting you soak her shirt with tears.

the noise of the door opening caught jimin’s attention, watching how minjeong came in with an confused expression, silently urging jimin to tell her what happened, “sad scene in the movie,” jimin sympathetically says.

minjeong looked up at the show and it was currently on the big fight with ursula in the ocean. she nodded her head walking back to the kitchen to put everything down, letting the older girl comfort you.