#they have just decided that personal space could go f herself haven’t

[polin-erospsyche]

Ok real talk here and I’ll preface this by saying I do not ship Luke and Nic together I just really love their friendship. But I cannot be the only one who’s highly highly bothered whenever they do not stand close together to the point of touching. Like whenever there is some kind of space between the two of them my brain just goes on high alert thinking things aren’t as they should be.

Like just for illustration sake:

Touching. Everything feels right in my little brain. Happy and safe place.

Not touching. Things are going haywire in my brain. What is that potted plant doing there? Get it away. Give them a couch so they can touch for god’s sake!

[tvreadsandsleep]

Here’s some of what I’ve written for the Dark!Attuma story idea @xblackreader posted the other day. I haven’t gotten to the explicit stuff yet, but it’s definitely going to be dubious consent and involve some choking. Unfortunately, because of work, the story probably won’t get finished until my day off on Wednesday. Let me know what y’all think of the opening. 

ETA: I was just reading this over to continue writing and there are typos galore. Sorry about that. What I post on Wednesday will be a lot better. 

ETA (3/8): I've finished writing the story! You can find it here on AO3 or check out my writing tag.

While making her way to Haiti, Okoye had heard from multiple sources about the many disappearances that had occurred on the island over the past few months. First, the person who’d been seated beside her on the plane had prattled on, eyes wide and hands gesturing, until Okoye had rudely cut the woman off by placing in her headphones. Afterward, the cabdriver she’d hired to chauffer her from the airport to her hotel had warned her off being on the beach late at night, his eyes staring at her through his car’s rearview mirror much longer then felt comfortable.

Now, the young women standing in line in front of her to check into the hotel, both seeming to have already been partaking in the copious amounts of alcohol available, were telling the tales of the disappearances, aiming to spook one another, as though they were telling ghost stories.

Rolling her eyes, Okoye readied what she needed to check into her suite. She was fed up with the warnings and speculation. She’d come to the Caribbean for a rejuvenating vacation and planned on having exactly that. She wanted no worries, no sadness, no anger, and, most definitely, nothing pertaining to possible kidnappings and murder distracting her from her aims. For her this was a chance to rediscover her happiness, to touch base with herself and decide what she wanted after years of serving the Royal Family.

So, she’d turned off her Kimoyo Beads, tossing them to the bottom of her bag before boarding the plane and had rejected all other forms of communication (not that she would’ve been caught dead using one of those primitive iPhones or, Bast forbid, picked up a tablet). While booking her hotel suite, she’d requested the television, and even radio, be removed from her room. In addition to rejuvenating, her vacation would be as technology free as possible to allow for the uninterrupted exploration of self and communing with nature.

When it was her turn at the front of the line, Okoye made quick work of checking-in. She received the keycard to her room and made off, dragging her oversized luggage behind her, without delay. Her room was situated on the first floor and featured large windows that would grant an unobstructed view of the next morning’s sunrise. It wasn’t the most secure area of the hotel, but she felt confident in her ability to keep herself safe. She may have been forcibly demoted from her position as General of the Dora Milaje, but her decades of vigorous training could never be taken from her.

She inspected the cleanliness of the space, taking in his beige and white color scheme, before finding it satisfactory and unpacking her luggage. It was still early in the day and she wanted to spend her first evening in Haiti on the beach, basking in the sunlight as she read one of the hardcover novels she’d packed.

Her loose pants and t-shirt were replaced by the skimpiest bikini she owned. Hinting at decorum, she wore a sheer coverup over the barely there bathing suit and arranged a wide brim sunhat over her quickly growing, tightly coiled hair. She completed the look with a pair of sunglasses and left her room, taking with her everything she would need for the day. She didn’t plan on returning to the suite until well after dark.

The hotel was located on the beach and with fewer than a hundred steps, Okoye was able to find a secluded portion of the beach. She placed herself away from the families and couples who’d populated the sands, and placed down her bard and beach towel. An attendant from the hotel approached and within minutes she had a drink in hand and a lounge chair with an umbrella to make her space that much more accommodating.

Settling in, she opened her book then gazed at the majestic clear blue sea. Wakanda may have had the most beautiful sunset, but its landlocked nature prevented it from having this, its riverbanks paling in comparison to the expanse of endless ocean glistening under the summer sun.

Her afternoon and evening passed in a blur of reading and sun, interspaced with the occasional nap, light intoxication brought on by the drinks she’d consumed and a full belly she’d achieved from the food she’d procured from the nearby vendors. This was the most relaxed she’d been in months (more like years, if she was being honest) and before she knew it the sun had begun to set.

The families in the distance had already packed their things and left, while the few couples that remained seemed on their way to doing the same. Okoye lingered where she was, waving away the beach attendant’s concerns when he’d checked on her before the end of his shift.

She’d returned the lounge chair and umbrella, no longer needing them with the sun’s descent, and moved further down the beach, leaving the hotel behind in the distance. Putting her bag down in the sand, she sat near the shoreline and watched as the stars begun to twinkle in the sky. The moon now reflected off the water, which had appeared to darken without the sun’s bright light. The sight was no less captivating than it had been in the early afternoon. In fact, she preferred this view, finding solace in the anonymity offered by the growing dark.

Her solitude was momentarily interrupted by the singing of a man hurriedly making his way across the beach. The man approached her but kept a respectable distance as he peered at her. She recognized him as the person who’d been renting jet skis to the hotel patrons. Okoye offered him a slight wave and smile, hoping the man would continue on his way with little, preferably no, conversation.

“Young lady, you shouldn’t stay here alone with the sun going down. People have been disappearing.” The man’s voice was stern as he lifted his hands to his hips.

Okoye, who knew she’d left her father back in Wakanda, bristled at the man’s tone. She was a lady, but far from young, and could protect herself if the need arose.

“I’ve heard,” she responded, working to keep her answer amicable. “I won’t be out here much longer.” She turned her eyes back to the ocean, hoping that bit of assurance would be enough to propel the man on his way.

Okoye knew it hadn’t been when the man continued, “Have you heard the legend of Nonm Reken?” The man asked, also turning to look toward the sea, though he stood at a much further distance.

“Shark Man?” Okoye translated with what little she knew of Haitian Creole.

“Wi, he was a boy abandoned by his parents on this very beach. Some say his father tried to drown him. Others say his parents just left him and ran away. Either way, he descended into the water and was raised by the sharks.” The man’s voice was serious, and edged in warning as he begun backing even further away from the shoreline. “Stay out here long enough and you’ll meet him. He’ll eat you! I know he’s behind all those missing people!”

Okoye had stood while the man spoke, pretending to be readying to leave but stopped and rolled her eyes at the man’s tale. She wanted to tell him that nothing about his story made sense but held her tongue. Wouldn’t the boy have simply drowned? How could be have possibly been raised by sharks? Why had his parents abandoned him in the first place?

Instead she schooled her expression back to something cordial and said, “Okay, well, thank you for the information,” before turning back to the ocean and putting an end to their conversation.

She heard him mumble something about her being fou under his breath as he finally continued on his way. Frowning, as her head whipped around to glare at his retreating back, Okoye muttered, “If anyone is crazy, it’s you.” She then returned to her seated position and took a deep breath as she sought to find her previous calm.

[quietmyfearswith]

longing stares ; august walker x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

word count — 5,515 words

summary — in which august walker made the mistake of hurting the love of his life — thinking he had the upper hand, but in reality it hurts him even more than he cares to admit.

warnings — SMUT, unprotected penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), handjob, degradation? angst?? fluff? swear words, august talking down/shit about another boy, window sex

pairing — august walker x fem!reader

summary — in which august walker made the mistake of hurting the love of his life — thinking he had the upper hand, but in reality it hurts him even more than he cares to admit.

a/n — DNI IF YOU ARE UNDER 18, so this was inspired by this post, but i wanted to twist it up a bit to fit the song that inspired me to write,,, so i hope it turned out alright :> feedback is very much appreciated! 

tagging — @cruelfvkingsummer​

masterlist | series masterlist

The pencil that he balanced between his fingers snapped into two as he saw a sleazy employee's frail hands touch her shoulders affectionately. At first the Hammer found it foolish when Sloane told him his personal office would have two-way mirrors for walls; but now he was more than thankful for it as he was sitting down behind his desk because it allowed him to watch the scene unfold without them knowing about his intense stare at them. His piercing gaze would have buried this son of a bitch who dared touch what’s his as she was burying herself with work.

Well, what was his to be more accurate. But his brain couldn’t fully absorb that fact as his fingers were hastily sending a text to Benji that he was sending someone over to his department and to keep the idiot busy for as long as it took. Leaving his phone on the table, he didn’t bother to wait for a reply as he sauntered over to the outside of his office and opened the door as he called out, “Jonathan, Benji needs you in his department. Something about a malfunctioning gadget.” The brunette pointed to himself as he wondered, “Me? My name’s Joshua.”

“In case I haven’t made it clear, I don’t care about your name, John, I just need you to get over down and check out the malfunctioning device — and I’m not talking about your brain.” Y/N gasped out loud at what August said, for it was unusual for him to talk shit about others; she could only watch Joshua as he excused himself to go to the 30th floor where he was being called for.

Once he vanished within her line of sight, she brought her eyes to look at August who had a stern expression on his face, “You, in my office. Now.” As his voice left no room for questions, she stood up from her chair and entered his all too familiar work space. “What the hell was that about, Walker?” Her hands rested on her hips as she raised her voice at him once he came in too after closing the door to give them privacy. “What was what, princess?”

He mimicked her by placing his hands on his hips too; but he didn’t have the combination of a frown and pout that she had, instead there was a smirk on his lips. “You don’t get to call me that,” Even though she loved the way the nickname rolled off his tongue and how it was reserved solely for her, she now hated how it just served as a reminder of their past, “Not anymore, Walker. So cut the shit and answer my question”

Bobbing his Adam's apple up and down, August was cursing with how cold and serious she was being. “I didn’t like the way he was getting too close with you,” There was no reason for him to fabricate a lie so he decided to just tell the truth. “Well that’s rich,” She scoffed as she crossed her arms against her chest and looked at him with disgust, “You decide you don’t want me and yet no one else gets to have at least a chance with me?”

His brain interpreted what she said differently as he slowly moved towards her, speaking dangerously low, “Yes, princess, that’s exactly what it means. No one in this fucking world gets you, because you’re all mine. I don't care if they're a rookie in the CIA or some royalty. They will have to kill me before they get to you.” If it were someone else, they would have shivered in fear once they were backed against a wall by a trained, skilled CIA agent who has planted his hands on the wall by her torso, caging her in. But not Y/N because she knew two things — one, he would never harm her, not in a way she wouldn’t enjoy. And two, she was his weakness. 

“I’m not yours, Walker,” From a venomous tone she shifted to a calmer one which surprised the man as he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “You made it extremely clear that night about how what we had doesn’t mean anything to you.”

It was a miracle that August managed to open his apartment door as his focus was on leaving his marks on her neck. “Hated seeing him so close to you,” He growled without his lips leaving her skin as his foot closed the door. Lifting her up over his shoulders made her squeal, more so when he smacked her ass while he effortlessly brought the two of them to his bedroom. Y/N bounced slightly as she was dropped on his comfortable mattress.

Large hands ripped her dress in two and revealed the black lingerie set she had hiding underneath her office clothes. “You trying to kill me, princess?” August husked out as he tore his own dress shirt off before spreading her legs, thumb rubbing against her clothed core, “Princess, you’re staining through the thin cloth.” Sliding the cotton material off of her, he brought it to his nose and smelt her arousal before throwing it off the bed. Every time they ended up in his place, he sneakily hid her underwear so he could jack off to them when they aren't together.

Y/N gasped out as she felt his moustache tickle her skin as his lips left kisses on his ascent to her. A toothy grin was plastered on both their faces. His fingertips graze the under band of her bra, “As much as I love this bra,” August unhooked it and threw on the floor as his lips enveloped her breast as his hand grabbed and played with the other, “I’d rather see your body in all its glory.”

Her hands tangled in his hair as she arched her back, feeding more of her flesh to him. “Fuck bear, more please,” She moaned out loud when his tongue drew circles around her nipple before biting on the pebble. Pulling away from her tit, August smirked at her blissed out state as he undid his pants, sliding it off him as his cock sprung out. “And why were you going commando today, bear?”

Kissing her lips passionately so her smirk would be wiped off, he rubbed the tip of his cock on her slit, “Because I wanted to tease you at work,” Her mewls of need fueled his ego, her hands were clawing at his ass as she was trying to guide his cock in her hole. “What’s the magic word, princess?”

“Please! Please bear, need you so bad,” As soon as she whined out the final word August slid his cock right in her; velvet and warm walls welcomed his cock by gripping onto him tightly that it made him struggle to thrust in or out of her. Her grasp on his ass didn’t take and if anything it made her just dig her nails againdt the skin even harder, which only added to both of their pleasure.

Ruthlessly, August ripped both her hands from his plump ass to lay them above her head, his hands forbidding her to move them around His other hand lifted her leg, resting it on his shoulder, which allowed him to reach even deeper. “You like how deep I can reach in you?” Each word was accompanied by a harsh thrust to every word; her moans brought pride to his chest for they both knew he was the only one who could pleasure her this well. 

“Tell me, princess, tell me how much you like it when I fuck you,” The vein on his neck became even more prominent as he growled at her. Feeling the vibrations of his growl against her lips just made her glaze even more of her juices in his cock; a firm swat on her thigh had her focusing on his command, “You fuck me so good, bear,” She gasped out when his cock poked her sensitive flesh which made her an even more out of focus, “Only you can make me feel this good, bear. Want no one but you.”

Her words paired with the way her walls clamped down on his cock pushed him right over the edge; both of them gasped out when August pulled out of her cunt and let go of her hands. Before getting to question what he was up to, he leaned down until he was face to face with her cunt, quickly inserting his tongue on her pussy.

“Oh fuck, please bear, please rub my clit,” Graciously, his thumb rubbed on her clit as his other hand jerked his cock off while he shook his head side to side, driving his tongue even deeper in her. “Cum for me, princess,” Convulsing upon feeling the tremors of his words on her mound, she could only grab onto his head to grind her closer to her as she relaxed her body as she came.

“There’s my good girl,” He praised her while lapping her juices and drinking it all up. Opening her eyes once she felt herself significantly calmed down, she whimpered upon seeing his cum-covered moustache and red cock that was red and aching to cum. Sitting up, she moved closer to him and wrapped one hand on his balls while the other stroked the length of his cock, “Coat me in your cum, bear. Please, bear?” The innocence her eyes held contradicted the way she spoke and jerked him off sultrily — which made him throw his head back as he spilled his cum on her hands. 

Giving kitten licks on the tip of his cock prolonged his orgasm as he stroked her hair lovingly; once he let out all of his cum, Y/N licked some of the cum that spilled between her fingertips. Smiling widely, she looked up at him and opened her mouth to show how she had drank up all he had to give. Patting her head gently he praised her again, “Such a good girl for me, princess.” He kneeled beside her before taking her in his arms before collapsing beside her, August cuddled her close to him as she moved around to face him. Her finger was tracing over his jawline as they both silently cherished the post orgasmic haze they both were in. He loved being with her this way — loved the way their bodies worked in tandem. But they weren’t just a great pair in bed, Y/N was one of the few capable and intelligent employees Hammer has met. Though he often displayed a tough exterior, he could easily show her as well a vulnerable side of him.

There was an instance wherein she accidentally barged in on his night of wallowing in self-pity with the intention of fucking so she could release tension, she was instead faced with a sorrowful August. That night, she made it clear to him that he didn’t have to open up to him if he was uncomfortable. She just wanted to be there for him, even if they just both drank in silence, just so he wouldn’t be alone with his thoughts.

He did end up letting her in and voicing out what was going on in his mind. Upon taking it all in she made it clear that he wasn’t the villain he made himself out to be. “You are not defined by what you have done,” Concern was laced on her voice that night as she held her face with gentle hands, “You were asked to do so in order to guarantee the safety of the whole damn world. If anything, it’s us who doesn’t deserve you.”

Just as he was about to rebut what she said, Y/N sweetly pecked his lips to shut him up right away, “Never talk shit about yourself, bear. You’re a great person and I would be more than glad to help you realize so.” From then on every time he entered his office there would be a sticky note taped on his desktop screen where she wrote something great about him.

“What are you smiling about?” He wondered as her lingering hand settled on his cheek, rubbing the prickled skin. “Just thinking about you,” Her vague answer just had him even more curious than he already was. It wasn’t unusual for the two of them to be quiet after sex, but there was something about the way she was looking at him and the way her touch seemed gentler, softer.

“What about me?” It was a rhetorical question, he didn’t expect any answer from her. So imagine his surprise when she mindlessly confessed, “I love you, August.” 

Sitting up against the headboard he stared at her with bewilderment evident on his face, “What the fuck did you say?” Clutching the blanket to hide her nudity, Y/N could not help but feel vulnerable and exposed as she sat up to level with him, “You heard me, August, loud and clear. I told you I love you.”

It was like a dagger pierced through her heart as he rolled his eyes and stood up from the bed as he rummaged through his drawers and grabbed a tank top and sweatpants, “I call bullshit on that.” Offense and hurt overcame her entire being as she hastily dressed herself up as well, “And why do you call bullshit on that?”

“Because it’s not real!” He shouted as he turned to face her shocked face; he has never raised his voice to or in front of her. Part of her was terrified — she didn’t know what he would do in a confrontational situation like this. Sensing her startled state, he then spoke in a lower tone, “The love that you feel for me, isn’t real. It’s just in your head, you’re just coming down from your high.”

Enraged she chewed him out, “Why are you invalidating what I feel? I know in myself that I love you!” Shaking his head no, August crossed his arms as he challenged, “We’re just friends! Fuck, we’re just colleagues!”

As soon as the words left his lips he could see the effect it had on her for her tears were threatening to leave her eyes and it caused him to feel as though someone had squeezed his heart roughly. “Do friends do what we do?”

Her weak voice made him feel even more bad than he already was but he still couldn’t stop himself from being an ass, “Friends with benefits do.” She smacked his chest as she yelled out in frustration, “I’m not just talking about the sex, idiot! I’m talking about whether a friend comforts you everytime you feel pity for yourself? Would a friend clean up your bruises and cuts after a hard mission? Or when I make sure you have enough homemade meals, what am I to you then?”

“Nothing,” The way he said it so casually and without a second thought should have scared her; and it did, “It doesn’t mean anything to me. You’re not mine nor are you my girlfriend.” That was the final nail in her coffin — the rude awakening that while she was out here going out of her way to make him feel loved and appreciated but he would never do the same for her, or so she thought.

“Okay then,” She shakily sighed out, “I’ll see myself out.” Bending down to grab her discarded purse but not before saying, “I’m sorry for wasting your time, Walker.” Not bear or August, he called her what everyone else did. It was a painful reminder of something he had lost and not appreciated enough. It was for her own good, he thought, she doesn’t deserve to be with a monster like myself. 

His hands abandoned his position against the wall as he recalled his harsh dismissal of her, “We aren’t together, in any shape or form. You made it very clear that night.” Taking advantage of the gap he created between them as he stepped back from her, she walked away from his office before he had a chance to say anything. Sitting down on his office chair he banged both his fists on the desk, which made all the objects in it jump slightly before coming back down. Deciding that he had enough for the day, he hastily collected his belongings before exiting the office to head home. 

As he got on his motorcycle, he remembered how firm her arms clung around his waist every time she rode with him. She feared falling on the vehicle and despite August’s repeated promises that he wouldn't ever let that happen to her; secretly, he loved it when she pressed her frame firmly against his back. It made him feel loved and appreciated — and that wasn’t the only time or her only way to let him feel so.

Turning off the engine as he parked, he trotted up to his apartment and once the door opened he took in the messy state of it. Ever since her exit, he neglected to take care of it because he wasn’t impressing her anymore. Besides, he fears that once he does organize his flat he just might find more relics of their shared time. 

Quickly showering the day’s dirt, he then laid down on his bed with a hand behind his head as subconsciously — or purposely if his brain decided to torture him as well — his would often replay what happened during these quiet, lonely moments of the night. And without fail, it always gives him the urge to smack himself for breaking her that way. Truth is she was everything he wanted and needed. Upon meeting her, he knew he wanted to change for the better just so he would be deemed worthy enough to be with her. There was something about her being magnificent in her own account that made him feel inferior to her.

It also didn’t help that he had never been in a serious relationship before; he often went for hookups and one night stands since his fear of commitment did not allow him to easily open up to anyone. But with her it was as if it was his instinct to tear down the facade he displayed to the world. “I love her,” He came to that conclusion and it shook him to his core.

Before closing his eyes to enter a state of unconsciousness, he then decided that he would confess what he felt to her, beg for her forgiveness, and ask for a chance to start a relationship with her. “Gonna do whatever it takes,” He promised to himself with a smile before pictures of him with Y/N clouded his dreams. 

The moment he stepped foot on his floor, he noticed how Y/N wasn’t in her cubicle. Maybe I’ll talk to her after work, he thought to himself as he entered his office and busied himself with work.

Y/N knew it was an atrocious idea — one that could backfire in her face — but something about yesterday’s encounter with August fueled her to do so. It was nearing four in the afternoon when Joshua stopped by her cubicle to ask her once again if she wanted to hang out with him; in all fairness, he was a nice guy. But once you’ve had a taste of gold in your life, you would never settle for a nickel.

“So Y/N, I was wondering maybe we could grab dinner after this? I know this great restaurant that just opened a couple blocks from here,” The brunette nervously suggested as he leaned against her post. Not sure if August was seeing the whole exchange, she decided to stand beside him as she trailed her hand to his forearm as she sweetly smiled at him, “Yeah? What do they serve?”

Cue Joshua nervously rambling about the menu and ambiance of the restaurant as a Hammer prepared to nail down his mark on his woman. The moment he saw the sleazy boy once again drop by her cubicle, he was closely monitoring the situation and was more than displeased to observe how his woman flirted back at him. The fucking audacity you have, princess, He thought as he sauntered over there.

Gasps were emitted from both Y/N and Joshua when August stormed in to interrupt their discussion— pushing the brunette away as he pulled Y/N in for a searing kiss, ending their conversation. With his hands pressed against her cheeks, he poked his tongue on her lips as he demanded she let him in; and he could not help but smirk when she rested her hands on his arms, not pushing him away and instead feeling more of him, while she parted her lips to welcome his tongue without hesitance. 

Pulling away from their kiss, August placed a few more pecks on her lips before placing an arm on her lower back before arrogantly turning to Joshua, “Sorry pal, I don’t think the memo has reached you, so I’ll just make it crystal clear for you — Y/N is my woman so you better steer clear from here unless you want an excuse to use your health insurance.”

Nervous gulping down and walking away from her cubicle was how Joshua rescinded to the situation; while August led Y/N into his personal office despite the gasps and stares of the other employees. Right now, he didn’t give a damn about their gossiped hunches for his princess tested his patience.

““What the hell was that about, princess?” He angrily asked as he turned to her with a stern expression as he rested a hand on his hip. Opposite him was a smirking woman who threw him the same answer she was given when they talked, “What was what, Walker?”

Realizing how the tables have turned, he exhaled through his nose in order to remain calm before huskily explaining how he saw things, “What were you thinking when you grazed his arm,” To emphasize, he ran a hand in her forearm to reenact how she sensually touched the other boy, “But you know what I find the most interesting? Was the way you eagerly kissed me back; do you know what that was all about?”

His breath touched her cheek having walked up right in front of her; this distracted her for a bit as her brain scrambled to formulate an explanation for her actions. “Well?” August lifted a brow as he slightly moved his head, prompting her to answer the question.

“I don’t know what that was, bear.” Despite her timid answer, he heard it loud and clear. But what really pleased him was the fact that she didn’t use his name rather she used the nickname she graced him that one time Y/N poked fun about how hairy he was since he refuses to shave his chest hair and moustache.

“So you had no idea as to why you touched him like that when you know for a fact that you belong to me,” He clarified to her as he tilted her chin up with the other hand that wasn’t resting on his hip to get her to look at him. 

“How many times do I have to make it clear to you that I do not fucking belong to you; that is what you said to me, right?” Her bold facade quickly disappeared as he grabbed her arms, walking towards the window. Making her turn to face the window, he pressed her cheek against the glass window, “Well I’m gonna fucking remind you that you belong to me and only me.”

Rough fingertips lifted her skirt, leaving the velvet bunched up around her waist, and ripped her panties to shove it in her mouth, “Don’t need you speaking if all that’s gonna leave your dumb mouth is you don’t belong to me. You’re not gonna speak unless you state my claim on you.”

A muffled whine was all she could let out as she nodded when her pussy welcomed two of his thick fingers that were ruthlessly slamming in and out of her. His other hand creeped towards her clit as he alternated between rubbing and pinching on the hardened nub. “Can you feel your cunt dripping? This is how your body reacts to me because you want me so bad.”

With the hand that was previously on her nub, he tore her blouse open and fondled a breast, “Such a naughty princess, not wearing any bra,” Pulling on her nipple elicited a prolonged moaned as she rested her forehead against the window, “Were you planning this the whole time?”

The answer she let out was obscure with her mind fuzzy from the way his fingers were hammering in and out of her mercilessly while he helped her remain on her feet by having a firm hold on her boob. “You’re still the needy princess I know you are.”

August smirked at how she let out a pathetic moan when he pulled his fingers out of her for it proved he was right. Palms resting against the cold glass, she turned her head around and watched as he lowered his zipper to pull his cock out. “Do you even deserve to have my cock?”

Nodding her head and up down was all the response she could give him as he continued to degrade her, “I don’t think you do,” To amp up his teasing, he rubbed the tip of his cock from her clit down to her opening multiple times; causing her legs to shake in need as she moved her hips towards his tip. “You’ve lost your princess privileges the moment you talked to him,” He whispered, lips pressing against the shell of her ear.

One of her hands left the crisp window and instead sought out for the warm hand that was in her boob, clawing onto him desperately to let him know how badly she still wanted him in any way she could have him. The sting of her nails made him smile wickedly as he took pity on her and slid his whole length in one go, “That make you happy, princess?”

The side of her head leaned against the window but she still managed to nod as she was extremely thrilled for having him inside her. Blindly, her other hand left the window as she searched for his vacant hand and collapsed them together. Even though her eyes were closed as she was blissed out with the way he was pounding in and out her hole without a care; August however felt touched that there was this part of her instinctively reached out to hold his hand affectionately.

He guided their entangled hands down to her stomach so he could press her back firmly against his front, “Never forget that you belong to me, princess.” It was in that moment that his wide tip grazed her g spot so she could only mewl and nod weakly as her overwhelming gratification blocked out her senses. 

Coughing up a bit once he pulled her panties out of her mouth, her shoulders then bore the weight of his arm, “Tell me you’re all mine, princess!” He demanded as barked it out on her before biting the shell.

“I’m all yours, bear!” She gasped out when he repeatedly hit her g spot every time his cock entered her. Her velvet walls were now making it harder for the Hammer to nail her for it clung to him like glue to the point that it was almost choking his cock, almost triggering an early orgasm from him. Wanting to focus on something else, his mouth peppered kisses on the skin of her shoulders and neck with the full intention of leaving dark, purple bruises so people knew she was off limits.

Y/N never felt this simulated in all the times she slept with August; the way his cock rummaged her hole with vigour and determination made her buckle her knees, the feel of his rough facial hair prompted her to push her neck more to his lips while her feeling his hand firmly against hers made her feel loved. In the haste of a moment, she let out a confession of, “Missed you so much, bear.”

Feeling his heartbeat increase at her confession, he snapped his hips faster to drive his cock even harder to her, in tune with the way his heart beat against his chest, “Really though you didn’t want me anymore.” He couldn’t take the way she sounded so broken — what made it worse was that he made her feel this way, and he vowed to himself that he wouldn’t cause her to feel that way again.

“I’m so sorry, princess,” Hearing him apologize, she turned her to face him again and was surprised when he kissed her lips softly — in contrast with how he was driving her cock in and out of her roughly — before letting his lips rest against hers as he continued to speak, “Never gonna let you go, never gonna hurt you.”

“You promise, bear?” Her small voice made her seem even more vulnerable than she already was; meanwhile August nodded fiercely as he kissed her once again. “I promise, princess,” That promise left his lips repeatedly against her lips.

Unvolutaringly clenching her walls on his cock, she moaned out loud against his prickly lips, “I’m so close, bear. Please let me cum.” And that reminded him how he was in charge and still has to decide if she gets to cum. 

“I think I can grant you one princes privilege, what do you think?” His smirk widened upon seeing her pleading eyes looked at him and moaned in agreement. Still holding onto her hand with one of his own, the other went to graze her cheek as he coaxed her, “Cum for me, princess; let me feel how much you missed me.”

He then drove his cock deep in her to the point he repeatedly bumped her g spot which set her orgasm off — she screamed out loud as her hand squeezed his hand so tight yet it didn’t have any effect on him. Loving the way her walls immediately relaxed their grip on his cock, he took advantage of it by chasing his own orgasm.

“Take my cum, princess,” He breathed out and felt his thrusts decrease their pace while they still had the same vigour. Stilling as he shot loads of his sperm, he pressed her against him needing her to ground him back. With a kiss on the side of her temple he let out, “I love you so much, princess.”

Despite her brain being a fumbling mess, she caught on what he said and pushed herself off his cock and turned to look at him, “What?”  Her fingers were busy lowering her skirt and trying to make her blouse look presentable as it could be while August tucked his meat back in his pants so he could hold both her hands.

“I love you,” He reiterated before taking a deep breath, “I love you and it scared me to find out how strongly I felt for you — because this was something I have never felt for anyone.” A breathless gasp was all she could let out upon being presented with this information.

Sensing her confusion, August placed a kiss on the back of both her palms before speaking once more, “I know this is a lot to take in, but maybe we can take it one step at a time? We go out on actual dates so you can also let me prove to you how much you mean to me.”

Her eyes were searching for any indication in his that he was just pulling her leg, “I know I haven’t shown you exactly what you mean to me — and that is due to my stupidity and immaturity — but if you let me, I will treat you like the sublime and divine being that you are. Spending those days without you made me realize the vital role you fulfilled in my existence.”

Her lips broke into a smile as her heart fluttered at what he said; Y/N lunged to him, wrapping his arms around her neck as she kissed his lips passionately. The Hammer was more than happy to reciprocate the passion she had for the kiss as he wrapped his thick arms around the middle of her back. 

“Does this mean you’ll take me back?” It was shocking how soft the tone of his voice was when he asked this to her as they pulled away from the kiss. Bopping his nose with a finger, she smiled at him before nodding, “It means exactly that, bear. I love you and you have me now. Officially, that is.”

Loving the sound of that, he pecked her lips once again and pulled away with the widest grin his lips had ever made, “I love you more, princess. You always were officially mine, you just didn’t know it yet.”

[fybillielourd]

I grew up with three parents: a mom, a dad and Princess Leia. I guess Princess Leia was kind of like my stepmom–technically family, but deep down I didn’t really like her. She literally and metaphorically lived on a planet I had never been to. When Leia was around, there wasn’t as much room for my mom–for Carrie. As a child, I couldn’t understand why people loved Leia as much as they did. I didn’t want to watch her movie, I didn’t want to dress up like her, I didn’t even want to talk about her. I just wanted my mom–the one who lived on Earth, not Tatooine. I didn’t watch Star Wars until I was about 6 years old. (And I technically didn’t finish it until I was 9 or 10. I’m sorry! Don’t judge me!) My mom used to love to tell people that every time she tried to put it on, I would cover my ears and yell, “It’s too loud, Mommy! Turn it off!”–or fearfully question, “Is that lady in the TV you?” It wasn’t until middle school that I finally decided to watch it of my own accord–not because I suddenly developed a keen interest in ’70s sci-fi, but because boys started coming up to me and saying they fantasized about my mom. My mom? The lady who wore glitter makeup like it was lotion and didn’t wear a bra to support her much-support-needed DD/F’s? They couldn’t be talking about her! I had to investigate who this person was they were talking about. So I went home and watched the movie I had forever considered too loud and finally figured out what all the fuss was about the lady in the TV. I’d wanted to hate it so I could tell her how lame she was. Like any kid, I didn’t want my mom to be “hot” or “cool”–she was my mom. I was supposed to be the “cool,” “hot” one–not her! But staring at the screen that day, I realized no one is, or ever will be, as hot or as cool as Princess F-cking Leia. (Excuse my language. She’s just that cool!) Later that year, I went to Comic-Con with my mom. It was the first time I realized how widespread and deep people’s love for Leia was, even after so many years. It was surreal: people of all ages from all over the world were dressed up like my mom, the lady who sang me to sleep at night and held me when I was scared. Watching the amount of joy it brought to people when she hugged them or threw glitter in their faces was incredible to witness. People waited in line for hours just to meet her. People had tattoos of her. People named their children after her. People had stories of how Leia saved their lives. It was a side of my mom I had never seen before. And it was magical. I realized then that Leia is more than just a character. She’s a feeling. She is strength. She is grace. She is wit. She is femininity at its finest. She knows what she wants, and she gets it. She doesn’t need anyone to defend her, because she defends herself. And no one could have played her like my mother. Princess Leia is Carrie Fisher. Carrie Fisher is Princess Leia. The two go hand in hand. When I graduated from college, like most folks, I was trying to figure out what the hell to do with my life. I went to school planning to throw music festivals, but always had this little sliver of me that wanted to do what my parents pushed me so hard not to do–act. I was embarrassed to admit I was even slightly interested. So when my mom called me and told me they wanted me to come in to audition for Star Wars, I pretended it wasn’t a big deal–I even laughed at the concept–but inside I couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier. A couple weeks later I went in for my audition. I probably had never been more nervous in my life. I was terrified and most likely made a fool of myself, but I kind of had a great time doing it. I assumed they would never call me, but after that audition, I realized I wanted to give the whole acting thing a shot. I was definitely afraid, but as a wise woman once said, “Stay afraid, but do it anyway … The confidence will follow.” About a month later, they somehow ended up calling. And there I was, on my way to be in motherf-cking Star Wars. Whoa. Growing up, my parents treated film sets like a house full of people with the flu: they kept me away from them at all costs. So on that fateful first day driving up to Pinewood, I was like a doe-eyed child. I couldn’t tell my mom, but little sassy, sarcastic, postcollege me felt like a giddy, grateful middle schooler showing up to a fancy new school. On that first day, my mom and I sat next to each other in the hair and makeup trailer. (Actually, she wasn’t really one for sitting, so she paced up and down and around me, occasionally reapplying her already overapplied glitter makeup and feeding Gary, her French bulldog.) Between glitterings, the hairstylist crafted what was to become General Leia’s hairstyle, then it was on to me: little Lieutenant Connix. Funnily enough, my mom had more to say about my hairstyle than her own. Even though she complained for years about how the iconic Leia buns “further widened my already wide face,” she desperately wanted me to carry on the face-widening family tradition! Some people carry on their family name, some people carry on holiday traditions–I was going to carry on the family hairstyle. So after we tested a few other space-appropriate hairstyles, we decided to embrace the weird galactic nepotism of it all and went with the mini–Leia buns. She stood in the mirror behind me and smiled like we had gotten matching tattoos. Our secret-handshake hairstyle. On the first day of this thing I could now call “work,” I walked into the Resistance Base set for rehearsal and J.J. Abrams, the director, told me where to stand and what to do–basically just press some pretty real-looking fake buttons. But I have to say, just pressing those buttons and observing the rest of the scene was one of the most fun things I had ever done. I had no lines in the scene, but my mom kept checking on me like I was delivering a Shakespearean monologue. “Are you O.K.?” she asked. “Do you need anything?” I scoffed at her maternal questions like a child embarrassed by her mother yelling goodbye too loud in a carpool line: “Mommy, go away! I’m fine. Focus on you, not me!” In the moment, I was humiliated that my mom was moming me on my first day of work, on the Star Wars set, of all places. But now I realize she was just being protective. Sets are extremely intimidating–I was too green at the time to know that–and she assumed I would be scared as hell. But weirdly, I wasn’t. At risk of sounding insane, something about this bizarre new world made me feel right at home. I had found a place with an empty puzzle slot that perfectly matched my weird-shaped puzzle piece. That night, on the long London-traffic-filled ride back from set, she turned to me and smiled. “Bits,” she said. “You know, most people aren’t as comfortable on sets as you were today. Especially on the f-cking Star Wars set, of all places!” (Excuse my language, but that was her language.) “This might be something you should think about doing.” At first I laughed, assuming she was kidding. But she continued to look me straight in the eye with no inkling of irony in sight. My mom was telling me I should act–my mom? The lady who spent my entire life convincing me acting was the last thing I should do? It couldn’t be true. But it was. I haven’t had many moments like this in my life–those aha moments everyone talks about. This was my first real one. My mom wanted me to be an actress. That was when I realized I had to give it a shot. She used to sarcastically quip that she knew all along what a massive hit Star Wars would be. As with most things, she was kidding. She was absolutely and totally beyond shocked by the massive global phenomenon that was the first Star Wars trilogy. It changed her life forever. Then, when it happened again almost 40 years later, she was even more absolutely and totally beyond shocked. It changed her life yet again. But that time, it changed my life too. I thought getting to make one Star Wars movie with her was a once-in-a-lifetime thing; then they asked me to come do the next movie and I got to do my once-in-a-lifetime twice. On our second movie together, I really tried to take a step back and appreciate what I was doing. I couldn’t tell her because she’d think I was lame, but getting to watch her be Leia this time made me feel like the proud mom. Watching the original Star Wars movies as a kid in my mom’s bed, I never imagined the lady in the TV would get older and get back in the TV. And I definitely never imagined we would end up in the TV together. But that’s where we ended up. Two little ladies in the TV together–Leia and little Lieutenant Connix. We wrapped The Last Jedi a little less than six months before she died. I went back to L.A. to film the show I was on, and she stayed in London to film the show she was on. One of the last times we spoke on the phone, she talked about how excited she was that the next movie in the trilogy was going to be Leia’s movie. Her movie. She used to say that in the original movies, she got to be “the only girl in an all-boys fantasy.” But with each new Star Wars movie, the all-boys fantasy started to become a boys-and-girls fantasy. She was no longer a part of a fantasy, but the fantasy herself. Leia was not just a sidekick one of the male leads had on his arm, or a damsel in distress. She was the hero herself. The princess became the general. My mom died on Dec. 27, 2016. Two days after Christmas, four days before New Year’s and about a year before she was supposed to appear in her final Star Wars film. Losing my mom is the hardest thing I’ve ever been through. I lost my best friend. My little lady in the TV. My Momby. And I inherited this weird, intimidating thing called her legacy. Suddenly I was in charge of what would come of her books, her movies and a bunch of other overwhelming things. I was now the keeper of Leia. About a year later, J.J. called me into his office to talk about the plans for Leia. We both agreed she was too important to be written off in the classic Star Wars introductory scroll. This last movie was supposed to be Leia’s movie, and we wanted it to remain that, as much as possible. What I hadn’t known–and what J.J. told me that day –was that there was footage of my mom that they had collected over the years that hadn’t made it into the movies, footage that J.J. told me would be enough to write an entire movie around. It was like she had left us a gift that would allow Leia’s story to be completed. I was speechless. (Anyone who knows me knows that doesn’t happen very often.) J.J. asked me if I would want to come back as Lieutenant Connix. I knew it would be one of the most painful, difficult things I would ever do, but I said yes for her–for my mom. For Leia. For everyone Leia means so much to. For everyone Leia gives strength to. For my future kids, so someday they’ll have one more movie to watch that Mommy and Grandma were in together. So they can ask me about the lady–now ladies–in the TV and tell me to turn it down because it’s too loud. I grew up with three parents: a mom, a dad and Princess Leia. Initially, Princess Leia was kind of like my stepmom. Now she’s my guardian angel. And I’m her keeper.

[my-avengers-obsession]

Steve x Pregnant!Reader x Tony x Loki "Y/N!" 2/2

Warning(s): Cursing

Note(s): This is the chapter where the gender and father of the baby is revealed •This was semi-proof read

Pairing(s): Tony x F!Reader; Steve x F!Reader; Loki x Reader (You know how he appears out of no where)

— Tony's P.O.V. —

I looked over at Steve and sighed softly. He wasn't angry at me like I expected him to be. He was broken and I saw it in his eyes. I felt a pain in my chest. Was I having a heart attack? Am I feeling guilt? This is all so new.

-Well guilt. Not the heart attack.

I looked over at Steve, he's been quiet all day. I've been trying to talk to him to hear any news about Y/N and the baby, but he just wouldn't talk to me. He wouldn't talk to anyone.

—

It was lunch time, Steve still stayed to himself. I walked over to him and put my drink down, slamming it a bit to demand attention.

The blonde stayed quiet and looked down at his food.

"Where is she?" I asked him.

"Who is she?" Steve asked in monotone.

"You know exactly who- Where is Y/N?" I asked him again.

Steve looked at me. "Haven't you done enough? She left me and you know this. Why do you wanna know? Are you gonna run off with her and the kid?"

"I don't...I don't know." I said and looked down.

I wanted to text Y/N, but it seemed liked she blocked herself from the rest of the world. Maybe it is time I called her, it's been three months.

— Y/N's P.O.V. —

God I missed Steve so much. I miss waking up in the morning with his arms wrapped around my waist and my face pressed against his chest.

I constantly ask myself why I chose to run off with Tony of all people. I've been talking to my therapist and she told me to put my past behind and to focus on my own health and the health of my baby, but I just can't stop thinking about it.

I sat on the couch in my new apartment, I moved in here about two months ago, when I ran off, I stayed at my cousin's place for a while since he was generous to let me stay.

I looked at the tv and went to find the remote. My phone started ringing, Tony was calling. I sighed and worked up the courage to pick up the vibrating iPhone.

"Y-Y/N?" Tony asked. He sounded nervous and scared at first as if he called the wrong number.

"Tony. Hey." I said softly.

"Y/N how are you?" Tony asked.

"I'm good..why'd you wait three months to contact me?" I asked him, "Never changed my number."

"I just thought you didn't want to hear from me again. I thought you cut yourself off from the rest of us. I want to be there for you. I want to help you." Tony said.

I sighed softly, "Tony. I can't. I don't even know who's baby it is. I can't have you taking care for me and it ends up to be Steve's."

"Still can't believe Steve's not a virgin." Tony mumbled softly.

I rolled my eyes, "So..you care about me?" I asked him, my voice soft, I didn't believe him.

"Yes, I do. I'm sorry. It's my fault you're even in this mess. I shouldn't have gotten so close to you." Tony sighed.

"It's no more your fault than it is mine. I betrayed Steve and I broke him. Is he still upset?" I asked.

"Yeah. He finally spoke to me today when I asked about you. He's in...he's in a bitchy mood, maybe you can come down and cheer him up?" Tony suggested.

"I am the last person that Steve would want to see." I scoffed and rolled my eyes, I had to be crazy if I thought Steve would want to see me after what I did.

"I think you're wrong. Please Y/N? For me?"

"No, Tony." I pulled the phone away, about to hang up.

"Y/N! Please." Tony pleaded, "Steve isn't himself snd I feel like he really needs you. I feel guilty. It's so weird and right now I just feel like I have to make everything right again. Please.."

"Tony, I'm sorry. I just don't think this is a good idea..." I sighed softly. I hung up and looked down at my phone.

A tear rolled from my eye and landed violently onto my phone. I looked at the splattered tear snd decided to text Steve.

— Steve's P.O.V. —

My brain hurts. It's been driving me crazy for the past couple of months. How did I not see this coming? Tony out of all people, I should've expected this.

I should've limited their time together. I should've been there more for Y/N. I know this all started because of me. To be fair, I thought she needed more space. I guess she needed less.

My phone started to light up. Y/N just texted me to see if I'm alright.

I scoffed to myself. Three months for her to ask how I'm doing.

I feel like shit- I mean crap. I'm the bad guy and the victim at the same time. This is all so conflicting.

It seems like Tony now wants to be friends after what he did to me.

I was walking to the elevator to go to my floor and heard Tony cursing to himself. He was talking to Y/N, I don't even see the point as to why.

I heard his footsteps come my way. I felt the desperation and sadness in the air. I looked down at the man and saw his distraught face. "What's wrong, Stark?" I asked him.

"Y/N..I tried to make things right! I tried to get her to come see you since you've been in such a vegetative state lately." Tony said, "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing. It's been three months and it's annoying." I went in the elevator and hit the close button. The doors started to close then stopped, I looked at Tony as his foot stopped it. I rolled my eyes. "Don't you get it? Leave me alone."

"Steve, just listen." Tony said.

"Leave." I looked at him and started to glare.

Tony walked off.

Loki chuckled softly and walked off, he always appeared at the wrong time. Maybe he could be a possible candidate for the possible father of Y/N's baby.

"Not a chance." Loki looked at me then walked away.

I rolled my eyes and waited for the elevator to bring me to my floor.

—

One Month Later

—

I got a text, from Y/N. I opened it and saw a picture of a sonogram with the caption 'It's a boy.'

I smiled softly, I didn't realize was smiling until I looked away. I always wanted a son. I frowned softly when I realized that it may not even be my son.

I noticed how Tony has been helping Y/N out lately. She started to show her face more, it's a bit of a relief to see she didn't do anything destructive.

She's slowly made her way back into the tower. She's been embarrassed to show her face around Nat and Clint. Nat gave her a little talk then they went back to being friends and Clint was disappointed in her but he couldn't stay disappointed in her forever.

I walked into Tony's lab and saw Y/N sitting there suggesting baby names with Tony. I looked over at her. She looked up at me and smiled softly.

"Hey Steve." She smiled softly. "I have some news that I wanted to share with the both of you." She held out a manila folder with some papers inside.

"Is that the test results?" I asked her, she took a non-invasive paternity test so we didn't have to wait so long to see who the father was. She could've taken it at 7 weeks but as she mentioned recently, she was scared snd finally worked up the courage to go ahead and get it over with.

— Y/N's P.O.V. —

I nodded as Steve asked me about the papers that were inside the folder. The tension grew in the air. I knew Tony wanted it to be his baby and I knew that Steve wanted it to be his baby as well.

I would want it to be Tony because I know Tony's gonna show the kid love and he's going to try his best and pass on his 'legacy'. At the same time I want the baby to be Steve because Steve is such a gentle, patient, and caring person and I know he's going to be a great father someday.

I took a deep breath, a tear rolled down my eye, I looked at the result. "Steve..." I started to cry even more.

Steve walked towards me, concerned. "Y/N, It's okay."

"Steve. It's your baby. You're going to have a son." I sniffled.

Steve smiled and hugged me carefully and kissed my forehead, I hugged him tightly and buried my face in his chest, maybe we could potentially work on our relationship now.

I pulled away from the hug and looked at Tony who looked a bit sad. "Tony, you can always play with him and teach him about Iron Man and things like that.." I walked over to him and rubbed his back.

"It's not the same. What if I never have kids?" Tony asked dramatically, clearly he's had many false allegations about paternity and pregnancy scares before.

"D-Don't you have a teenage son?" I asked him.

"It's not the same." Tony said dramatically and went back to working.

"You can hold him when he gets here." I whispered in his ear.

Tony smiled softly, Steve heard what I said, "N-No."

"He's not going to drop him." I said.

"You don't know that." Steve said.

"Fantastic." I said while walking out of the room. I started to think to myself.

'I could've kept all of this a secret and Steve never would've known..' I bit my lip and went to pour myself juice.

"I agree." Loki said as he got off of the couch and out his book down.

I jumped and juice splattered a bit.

"Oops." He said emotionless. He smirked softly, "Why'd you doubt yourself? You really could have kept it all to yourself and continued your fun."

"Go away." I looked at my friend.

"Congratulations. You know some people consider pregnancy a disease?" Loki asked.

"You're a disease." I mumbled.

"You were having sex with a walking disease." Loki smirked as he mentioned Tony and ate a grape.

"That's a fake grape." I looked at him.

He spit it out then looked at me. "I-I knew that."

I smirked softly and rose a brow.

"You're mean." He stuck out his tongue and walked away to go finish his book.

I chuckled softly then looked at Steve. "Is Tony okay?"

"Yeah. He's a bit relieved. He wanted the baby to be his but he says he's free from responsibility." Steve said.

"He's going back to being a hoe I assume?" I chuckled softly.

"Hell yeah!" Tony said while grabbing his car keys.

— Three Years Later —

Steve and I were dating again. We were taking things slower. He was a great father and was there almost everyday for the first year of Alexander's life. He was definitely there for Alexander's first milestones and even taught Alex how to walk.

Sometimes Steve would stay the night when Alexander cried for him to stay. When Alexander turned two, Steve moved in and we've been almost a normal family ever since.

Alexander looked exactly like Steve but acted exactly like Tony. I let Tony babysit Alexander often, I knew Tony's personality was starting to rub off on my child, I let it slide, Tony acted a lot like a toddler so this was normal.

"What do you want for lunch?" I asked Alexander.

"Scotch." The child said and started to giggle.

Steve looked up from his laptop and looked at our son then at me for my reaction.

"I think it's officially time we talk to Tony." I tried my best not to laugh.

[britishboystm]

The Reunion | The Day We Met: A Fred Weasley Mini Series

Inspired by:

Pairings: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ (minor dni!) oral f & m receiving, handjob, fingering, unprotected vaginal penetration (please be safe please, for the love of god!) swearing, fighting, arguments, angst, fluff, mentions of possible depression

WC: 7k+

Chapter Summary: A year after that infamous night, will flames be rekindled?

Series Masterlist

***

As promised, George and Y/N wrote to one another.

Fred had excluded himself from the letter exchanges as he felt that it would be too painful to put words to paper. He was also worried that the process would bring up deep unsurfaced feelings of regret and remorse.

George would often ask Fred if there was anything he would want him to add to his letters to Y/N. Fred would always say to write; Fred misses you a lot. But that was it.

It had now been a bit over a year since Y/N last saw the boys fly away into the dark sky that cold April night. Keeping her promise, Y/N continued her studies at Hogwarts and immediately began training to become a healer once she graduated. She was lucky enough to be granted a mentorship with the ever so helpful Madam Pomfrey during her last couple months of classes.

Now, on one hot May afternoon, Y/N found herself with Alicia, Katie and Angelina, walking aimlessly around Diagon Alley. All four girls had been so wrapped up in studies and work that it had been months since they last saw one another.

It was nice to finally catch up with her old schoolmates but Y/N did have an ulterior motive to her visit however. As they strides the cobblestone walkways, sitting at the bottom of Y/N’s tote bag was George’s last letter.

And in that letter, contained what seemed to be a plea for help.

Dear Y/N,

I hope training is going well and you are putting everyone in their place like always. We are so proud of everything you’ve accomplished in such a short amount of time. I’ve got to admit though, things aren’t going that well over here. The store is doing fine, brilliant actually! That isn’t the problem. It’s Fred. He hasn’t been getting any better. I know in our past letters you have said that it would take time for him to adjust and get over everything, but I’m not so sure now. It’s been over a year and nothing has really changed. He smiles and jokes around the shop like he always does and I know he loves what he is doing but it’s the nights that are the worst. He turns into a completely different person. I think it's the quietness. He doesn’t like his brain being the only thing he can hear. In the shop everything is so loud and energetic that he can distract him from his thoughts. But once that closed sign is put up and we head up to our flat for the evening he shuts down, almost like all of that energy has been drained out of him. He doesn’t even come out for dinner anymore. I usually just leave things on the table for him and he hobbles out to grab it when he feels like it, only to go back to his bedroom right away. I haven’t been in his room for months by the way and quite honestly, I’m scared to even try. Who knows what type of monster has formed in there. I’m also finding it hard to sleep. The walls aren’t thin in this place so I can usually hear him cry at night. I’ve been constantly casting silencing spells to drown him out but nothing’s working. I guess what I’m trying to say is, could you come visit? Only for a bit, you have no obligation to stay long but I think he really needs it. He misses you and I know you miss him too. So for my sake and both of yours, could you please find the time to come down here? You won’t regret it. I’ll bribe you if I have to, just name it!

Consider it Y/N,

Love George

After reading that letter she couldn't sleep for an entire week. Tossing and turning, Y/N contemplated on whether it was a good idea to go see them... to go see him and what would happen if they reconnected and all of those old feelings resurfaced? It would just make it that much more painful when she would have to leave. There was no sense in showing up only to give him false hope... right?

Then came the call from Angelina asking if she wanted to join her and the girls for a day on the town in Diagon Alley that weekend. Y/N wanted to say no, but something inside her forced her to say yes.

She instantly regretted it, but didn’t have the heart to cancel. She thought that maybe this was her subconscious telling her to finally bite the bullet and walk through those shop doors.

So here she was, avoiding that part of Diagon Alley. The four girls walked around in the heat, stopping along the way to window shop for what felt like hours. They even took a nice long lunch break at the Leaky Cauldron which provided a nice cool down for awhile. Things had been going fairly smooth sailing up to that point. Then they left the Leaky Cauldron and began walking around again. Y/N’s worries of having to face Fred Weasley started to re-emerge. But even though her brain was setting off red alerts for her to stop and turn around, something kept her feet moving along the path to where she remembered George saying they were located.

“You alright Y/N?” Katie asked as she linked arms with her old roommate. Y/N nodded slightly and let out a shaky breath.

“Hey, we don’t have to go in there if you don’t want to.” Katie said with care as she gently grabbed Y/N’s arm to stop her in their tracks. All of her friends knew how Fred and her left things the year before and that it was a sensitive subject for her.

“I’m fine Katie, really. Thank you for checking though.” Katie gave her a sad smile in response. Y/N didn’t know if she was fine to be honest.

The group continued to walk a little longer before they came to a sudden stop. Looking up from her feet for what felt like the first time in a while, Y/N came face to face to one of the most ridiculous looking shops she had ever seen. The huge robotic head tipping it’s top hat that resembled the boys almost perfectly was the first thing that caught her eye. Then she noticed the etched golden letters that spelled out Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes just above the door. It would also be fair to say that the bright orange and purple paint coating made it the most colourful building in all of Diagon Alley.

Of course this was their shop.

“Fancy a visit with the boys?” Angelina asked cautiously. Y/N could feel all of the girl’s eyes on her, waiting to see if she would agree or not. It was now or never.

“Yeah, sure.” She said hesitantly. Katie gave her a reassuring rub on the back before they all walked up to the loud building, dodging hyperactive children rushing past them in both directions.

The second they stepped through the door, a gust of warmth and the smell of gunpowder hit Y/N in the face. The inside of the shop was even louder then the outside. Kids and parents ran around different displays and shelves of magical toys, trinkets and miscellaneous items.

It was incredible and Y/N couldn’t help but gasp at what the twins had created. Everything started to make a bit more sense as to why they were so adamant about leaving before graduation.

The girls began to walk further into the shop, clearly familiar with the space, unlike Y/N. They had formed themselves in a way that Katie and Y/N trailed behind, hidden from anyone’s view.

“Ladies, welcome!”

Y/N froze in place upon hearing that oh so familiar voice. He did sound a tad older though, almost as if his vocal chords had grown accustomed to constantly yelling over the many ecstatic customers they have gained in the past year.

But it was him.

Her Fred.

She began to turn around before Katie grabbed her, keeping her planted in place.

“Hey Freddie, George!” Angelina chirped before sauntering over and engulfing them into a hug.

From where Y/N was standing, Fred seemed nothing like how George mentioned in his letters. His face was bright and radiated a youthful energy.

She shouldn't be here, she thought. And yet something told her to stay. Something more than Katie’s tight grip on her shoulders.

“Guess who came to visit?” Angelina suddenly said with a cheeky grin. Fred frowned down at her, traces of a smile still evident his face.

“Who?” Once he asked, the girls all moved away from where they were standing, leaving Y/N completely exposed. There was no turning back. She had been spotted and struck. No escape in sight.

The second he laid eyes on her, his smile dropped. Everything was happening in slow motion.

Even though it had only been a year, she looked so different. She looked like a woman. Not that her face had aged at all but just from the way she held herself. Like an adult witch who was making her way in the world. She was no longer the young naive Hogwarts student that he had fallen in love with all those years ago.

That love never disappeared though. He could still feel it dancing within his chest and gut as she shifted awkwardly in place, clutching her canvas tote bag in an attempt to grounding herself.

Fred also looked older to Y/N. He had grown taller since the last time she saw him, if that were even possible. He looked more strongly built, most likely from lugging around all of those boxes of inventory day after day. His face had filled in a bit and the waistcoat he had on hugged his sides nicely underneath his colourful dress jacket. He looked great, amazing actually.

“Y/N.” He gasped out as he dropped the small box of fever fudge he was holding.

“Hi Freddie.” Her face was flushed and the pounding in her chest held a strong presence within her. She wasn’t given any more time to speak as he ran up to her and pulled her in for a bone crushing hug.

“I’ve missed you so much. What are you doing here?” He muffled into her hair. It smelled of the lavender and sage shampoo she used throughout their school days.

Such good memories.

“Girls day I guess.” She awkwardly giggled, pulling away from him and looking down at the floor.

He couldn't help but stare at her intently, happy she had finally decided to come see him.

It didn’t take long for Fred to take Y/N’s small hand in his. He gently tugged her away from the group and pulled her through the chaotic space, showing her everything that him and George had worked so hard to obtain. It was as if he had completely forgotten about the last year.

With every minute, Y/N became more and more relaxed. She watched him intently as he explained things with so much animation while his hands flailed around rapidly. It was really nice to see the childish excitement behind his eyes again, the childish excitement that made her fall in love with him in the first place.

Shit.

“You’re staying for dinner right?” He asked out of the blue while the other girls bid their adieu to the younger of the two twins.

“Freddie I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I have a lot of work to catch up on an-”

“Please.” His big brown puppy dog eyes were exactly why she shouldn’t have come in the first place, but it was too late. She had already been caught in his web.

“Alright. Only dinner though, and then I need to head home.” His face lit up and his eyes formed those same old endearing crinkles in the corners that she adored so much. Not thinking clearly he began to lean in for a kiss before he stopped himself, suddenly remembering where they were in their relationship.

“Sorry.” He whispered bashfully as Y/N shifted away from him, looking everywhere else but his baby browns. She had to set boundaries.

“You coming Y/N?” Alicia asked as the girls started to exit the shop.

“Umm,” Y/N looked between Fred and the girls, finding it difficult to decide on what she should do. Fred’s hand then found itself placed on her lower back, sending a nice tingle down her spine. Her final decision was finally made.

“You lot go ahead. I think I will stay back for a bit.” The girls nodded, grins sitting on all of their faces. This was clearly planned and Y/N had fallen for it.

“Thank you ladies for your help.” George muttered under his breath while he led them out and placed the closed sign on the door. Y/N thankfully didn’t hear him say a single word.

Once the shop had fully settled and filled with quiet, George began to subtly examine his brother's behaviour, already noticing a difference. His shoulders weren’t slumped over and his eyes weren’t hooded with pessimism and exhaustion.

“I’m really glad you came Y/N.” George explained as he finally walked over and went in for a welcoming hug. It had been sort of difficult to do so earlier, since Fred had kept her glued to his side the second she got there.

“Nice to see you to Georgie.” She replied with a small laugh. Once they finally detangled from one another, the twins led the third member of their long lost trio up the stairs and into their shared flat .

It was a good thing that she was there really. The twins couldn’t cook to save their lives, so the minute they began preparing dinner, Y/N shooed them out of the kitchen, only allowing them to approach if she needed help with something small or uncomplicated. It was like the good old days when their mum made meals for them. The scents of cumin and cooking oil as well as the sounds of long lost laughs wafted through the space. Things were going swimmingly, and if anything, solidified the fact that Y/N had missed Fred and George dearly.

“Godric, Y/N. It really is great to see you again.” George beamed as he sat back in his chair, easing into the fullness he was feeling from Y/N’s amazing grilled chicken dish.

“It took me a while but yeah, I’m glad too.” She stated, blushing slightly as she looked over to Fred. With the three of them together, everything was fine. It reminded her of when they would run and hide within the halls and walls of Hogwarts at the peak of their pranking careers.

Y/N being alone with Fred however, was a completely different story. Wounds had yet to be fully mended and deep scars still very much remained.

George took a moment to dart his eyes back and forth between Y/N and Fred as an obvious awkward aura danced around the cozy flat. George knew exactly what to do to remedy the tension.

“Well, I’m stuffed. Should probably be heading off to bed. I’m so glad you agreed to dinner Y/N. I hope we do this more often.” She abruptly looked up at the younger twin with a pleading look in her eyes that screamed; please don’t leave me with him!

He read it perfectly, but chose to simply give the begging girl a sly grin and an obnoxious “good night.” before patting his brother on the shoulder and retreating down the hall to his room.

Damn George Wealsey. Damn him to hell.

The awkward silence remained but it was now so much louder. Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N could see Fred shift around in his seat, trying to calm the uneasiness that they were both clearly experiencing,

Someone had to say something before one of them spontaneously combusted from all of these pent up emotions.

“I’m sorry.” They said collectively. There was a moment of shock that they had spoken the same words at the same time, then small smiles that led to shy blushes.

“I meant everything I said that night you know. About me waiting for you.” He said while staring down at the table, folding his napkins over and over again to busy himself and ease his anxiety.

“Fred I-“

“I’m serious.”

“Then why didn’t you write to me?” Her words were laced with hurt. It was quiet for a moment. He then bowed his head slightly in shame before bringing his hands up and through his red strands of hair, letting out a sigh.

“It would have hurt. Trying to keep something alive that you didn’t want anymore. But the minute I saw you walk through that door this afternoon, I felt like hope was restored.”

She relaxed slightly at his answer, but only slightly. She never wanted it to end, so for him to think she wanted to let go of what they had killed her. This conversation was happening though, and that was all that mattered

“It’s been a weird year. I found myself at times picking up the phone or running to grab parchment to tell you about crazy events that had happened. Then I would remember, remember that you weren’t there.” He frowned, being slightly offended by this.

“I never really left. If you wanted to, you could have. Called and written that is.”

“You’re one to talk.” She scoffed, folding her arms.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He retorted in a state of defensive confusion.

“It means you aren’t allowed to be mad at me when you didn’t contact me once all year!”

“You hurt me Y/N! I had everything planned out for us and you ruined it!” Voices were beginning to rise.

“I’m sorry?” She was this close at screaming at him. The first time they fought, she had been scared. This time was different. She was stronger, maturer and quite honestly, sick of his shit.

“Last time I checked, you were the one that left school to open a fucking joke shop! What? You just thought I would up and leave an actual future so I could be your little housewife? Fuck you Fred Weasley!” They were both standing at this point, moving in closer and closer to the point of them almost touching. He towered over her and she couldn’t help but notice that feeling.

“Oh get off it L/N.” He spat down at her. The image they took resembled a Chihuahua trying to gain dominance over a Great Dane.

“You, are a man child Fred Weasley. When the fuck are you going to grow up and face the real world?” She shoved a finger into his chest, which didn’t even him an inch.

“A man child?” He chortled mockingly with a raised eyebrow and obnoxious smirk.

“Yeah.” She retorted, grounding her feet to make herself feel bigger and stronger. Her Gryffindor was shining through like no tomorrow.

“Say it again.”

“What?” She asked confused.

“Say it, again.” His tone was low and direct. He exerted an intense sense of power and strength that she secretly loved.

“You are a man child Fred Weas-“ Before she could finish her sentence, he grabbed her cheeks into his palms and slammed his lips against hers. Her eyes widened in pure shock but she quickly closed them and grabbed his wrists in her hands, giving into the sensation. It was a sensation that she had been craving for so long. They moaned and groaned into each other’s mouths before he pushed her back and hoisted her up onto the kitchen counter by her arse. His hands then squeezed into her sides, causing her to squeak and squirm.

“Fuck.” She whispered as their mouths seperated for a moment of breath since she had gripped the base of his neck hair and pulled him away from her.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” She continued as he moved his lips down her neck. She was slightly mad at herself for giving in to him so easily. Deep down though she knew it was going to happen eventually. She had just been too proud to admit it.

“Why?” He whispered as he sucked on her jugular, making sure to reach every single beauty mark that painted her neck.

“B-because I-. Fuck Freddie I can’t speak.” Her words were getting lost with each lick and smooch he planted on her jawline.

“Then don’t.” He muttered into her flesh. She dropped the subject and chose to grip on to his hair once again. His hands slowly moved from her hips down to her thighs, stroking them softly. The feeling triggered Y/N’s memories of the night he left. She wanted to yell at the top of her lungs; Don’t leave again! But all she could do was whimper at the touch of his warm and inviting fingers circling against her quads.

The whimpers she was releasing made Fred stop and look into her eyes which he had been dreaming about for over a year now.

“You are so beautiful.” He stated as tears began to form in his lower waterlines. He hated himself for being such a prick and for not fighting hard enough for her. Instead he chose to put his tail between his legs and accept defeat. That wasn’t the Fred Weasley he knew.

But this girl, this stunning girl with her chest heaving and legs open had changed him. She had changed him for the better.

Just from the mere sight of him crying made her tear up herself. Unable to watch him suffer any longer, she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into her chest as he continued to silently sob.

One of her hands crept up his back in hopes of soothing him. She began to rub gentle circles between his shoulder blades. Her other hand came up to caress his hair as she shushed him gently.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out through weak whimpers.

“I let you down.” Her heart broke at this statement.

“You didn’t let me down. I’m sorry too Freddie. I didn’t mean what I said about the shop. I am so proud of you and all the hard work you have done.” She leaned down to kiss the top of his head. This made him tighten the grip he had on her.

She let him hold her for as long as he needed. Merlin knew just how much they both needed it.

When he finally started to feel the emptiness within him fill slightly, he pulled himself away from her grasp to look into her red puffy eyes.

“Stay? Please?” He was desperate for her. Desperate for her touch, her body, her laugh, her voice, her smell and everything in between.

“Freddie, you know I can’t.” She spoke softly while she closed her eyes, forcing out a tear.

“Just for tonight, please.” She sighed as she laid her forehead against his shoulder in frustration, wrapping her calves around his waist to pull him in closer.

Neither one of them spoke for a while, instead choosing to listen to each other’s laboured breathing, finding that missing comfort in the inhalation and exhalation.

“Just for tonight.” She spoke quietly. He closed his eyes in relief, smiling to himself before pushing her off of his shoulder and gently taking her face in his hands.

“Thank you.” He spoke, lightly pecking her on the lips. She smiled back and removed her hands from his neck.

“I’ve missed you.” She said in a whisper as her right hand grazed down his torso, stopping at his crotch. She began to palm him, making sure not to break eye contact. He sputtered out and buckled at her touch.

“Fuck.” He softly groaned, his face tucking into the curvature of her jaw and neck.

“What do you want, baby?” She asked, speeding up her movements.

“You.” Was all he was able to vocalize. This sent a sensation right down to her underwear.

“Stand up straight love.” He followed her instructions immediately, pulling all of his weight off of her and struggling to find a solid stance. She then hopped off of the counter and found her way down onto her knees, preparing herself for what was to come.

He tried so hard to not go absolutely feral as he watched her look up at him with these soft doe eyes. Her hands then came up to tug at his belt, making it so his hips dipped forward from the force of her pull. Never in his wildest imagination did he think that the sound of a clanking belt would be so heavenly.

“Need you.” He said through a gasp, gently stroking her hair. He could feel her fingers dance along the elastic band of his boxers before tugging them down to above his knees along with his work trousers. The cool air hit his member once it sprung free and lightly tapped his lower stomach. The feeling sent shivers down his spine and caused his leg hairs to stand on end.

His tears had now become dry against his cheeks as he strangled out a new cry. This time from pleasure as Y/N thumbed the tip of his member gently.

Noticing how desperate he was, Y/N continued to stroke him until his cock was covered in any kind of wetness he could offer.

Once she felt it appropriate she leaned forward and took a deep breath, taking him into her mouth and as far down her throat that she could. Everything she couldn’t swallow was dealt with by her hand.

Fred groaned profusely through his bitten lip, trying hard not to be too loud. His brother was just down the hall after all.

“Fuck love.” He encouraged, holding the back of her head lightly in a make shift ponytail as he gently thrusted forward, causing her to gag and slobber slightly. The strangled chokes she let out around his member made him subconsciously quicken his pace. No longer in control, she gave up on taking care of him with her hands and chose to lay them flat agaisnt his tense thighs for support instead.

Her breathing began to shorten and the choking was becoming a tad bit unbearable, so she lightly tapped one of his thighs, making him pull her off of him and up to her feet. She wobbled slightly at the feeling of coming up to fast and from the lack of oxygen as she fell into his arms.

“You alright love?” He asked with concern through erratic pants. She could feel his still rock hard member cuddled up against her hip as she leaned against him.

“Yeah, just thought we should take this into the bedroom.” He nodded in agreement and let go of her for a moment to pull up his trousers and boxers. He hissed at the fabric grazing against his sensitive area but paid it little attention. He couldn’t worry about himself since he wanted to be fully invested in Y/N and her wants and needs. He would be dealt with soon enough, that was for certain.

Once he was fully clothed again, he decided to pick Y/N up, catching her off guard by throwing her over his shoulder and making her squeal out in excitement.

“Shhh, don’t want to wake up George do we?” He whispered through a sly smile.

“Depends.” She spoke seductively.

“You cheeky little mink.” He growled jokingly while placing a palm down on to her arse with a firm smack, making her squeal out once more, this time in pleasure.

He carried her down the hall and into the room right across from the one George disappeared into. Once they were fully inside, Fred threw Y/N down onto his unmade bed.

She took a moment to take in her surrounding, mentally referring back to the letters George had sent her. She thought about how worried he was about the depressive hole Fred had found himself in and that his room would be a good indication of it, even if he himself hadn’t been in there in months.

It wasn’t terrible. Laundry scattered the floor, clearly making it difficult to differentiate dirty from clean. A few bottles of fire whiskey sat in a dark corner by his work desk, almost as though they were being shunned from the rest of the room. Used tissues were placed on his bedside table in the formation of a small hill, making it unclear which ones were used from his nights of tears and which ones were used for his nights of self pleasure to calm the tears, both actions having her in mind.

She observed all of this as he laid on top of her and licked up her neck.

“Freddie.” She moaned out, finally coming back to reality from her thoughts.

“Yes baby?” His lips attached to her upper chest.

“Off.” She said, brain too fried from the pleasure to speak in fully formed sentences.

“ ‘f course.” He mumbled before detaching himself from her collarbone and sitting up to straddle her waist. His fingers traced up and down the buttons on her light summer dress before he started to unbutton it, allowing her bra to be exposed to him. It wasn’t a fancy lace or an elegant silk, but rather a sweet light yellow cotton that drove him absolutely mad.

Because it was her. It was always her.

He took a moment to admire the canvas that was laying below him that he couldn’t wait to paint before tugging the bra down, revealing her breasts to him. She let out a small whine as the cold air struck her bare skin, making her nipples perk up in the process. He shifted his gaze between her face and her chest. She nodded slightly, giving him the go ahead. With her approval, he leaned down and latched his tongue and lips around her delicate areolas.

She hummed with ease and shimmied her hips underneath him. He took a good minute to praise her supple mounds before bringing his hand down and underneath her dress, tapping her hip. She caught the hint and lifted herself up, allowing him to pull the floral patterned fabric from underneath her and toss it amongst one of his numerous piles. She then arched her back, making it so he could remove the constricting bra fully. He let out a small groan before shifting his body, specifically his lips, down her stomach to her navel. His lips littered her skin with kisses but he could tell she was craving a different kind of touch.

“So good f’ me, love. Have always been so good f’ me.” She smiled at this and shut her eyes as he started to tug her underwear down her bent legs. Almost automatically her knees fell open, giving Fred admission to his own personal holy grail. His gaping mouth emitted a hot breath that hit her centre, causing her to squirm.

“Freddie, please, right there, ‘m ready for you.”

God she was so perfect.

“I know baby. I can see it, can see all of it.” His index finger stroked down her wet folds, making her shudder.

“So sensitive.” He tutted softly as he grabbed both of her ankles and tugged her further forward, placing the back of her knees over his shoulders.

“Need it now,” Her whining made it abundantly clear that she was unable to handle much more of his teasing.

He couldn’t torture her any longer, so he leaned in and let a small amount of spit to drop from his lips and on to her sensitive clit. Then he brought his tongue down to swirl the liquid he released around her entrance, making her moan out loud to indicate to him that he was doing his job really well.

All he could think about was the sounds she was making and how she tasted just like he remembered.

So sweet.

“Taste so good love.” She gripped the sheets at the vibrations of his words of encouragement.

“Whenever you’re ready, come f’ me.” He spoke as he stopped his movements against her clit and dropped her legs, allowing her to be laid out for him. He then laid himself on his stomach between her legs and I nserted a couple of digits into her hole, hoping to speed up the process of bringing her to a fully euphoric state.

“Okay.” She whined, along with a submissive nod that was so innocent, he couldn’t help but rut his hips into the sheets beneath him to try and calm his own ache. His fingers sped up and he attached his lips to her once more. She dug her heels into his upper back, pushing him further against her heat.

“Right there, right there, fuck I’m go-going t-” She couldn’t even finish her sentence as she released onto his face. They both wheezed out in exhaustion and once he felt like he could finally move, he sat up, kissing her roughly, making it so her wetness transferred from his lips to hers.

“Too many clothes Freddie.” She sighed out as she weakly tugged at his waistcoat button, while she slowly came down from her orgasm.

He was utterly bewildered by her and what she had just done that he had no choice but to scramble to sit up more and almost rip off his clothing in anticipation.

He moved off of the bed and tried to keep eye contact with her as she leaned back on her elbows, naked and open for him. He could see their mixture of slick fluids covering her thighs reflect in the moonlight.

Once he was fully nude, Y/N stopped him from moving towards her like a dog in heat by pressing her foot against his chest.

“Stay there. Wanna get a good look at you.” He tilted his head slightly in confusion, but obeyed his queen nonetheless.

She just wanted to see how he had changed over the past year. A year since they first made love. His arms were more toned and his abs carried a deeper definition. His thick thighs made her practically salivate.

“Okay.” She breathed out shakily.

“Get over here.” She continued, giving him the come hither motion with her finger. He smirked and quickly crawled over to her, hopping on top of her, pinning her down underneath him and smothering her with kisses.

She laughed out, trying to pry him off of her small frame.

‘Okay, okay enough! You’re crushing me!” She giggled.

He finally stopped, not expecting her to then lunge at him and roll them over so she was on top.

Her naked figure straddled his hips and he couldn’t help but to stare up at her in awe as he stroked her figure gently.

“I’ve missed you.” She said out of the blue. He smiled sadly in return.

“I’ve missed you too.” They both went in for a kiss.

“Want you inside me baby.” She mumbled against his lips. He nodded and shifted so she was hovering right above his erect shaft.

She let out a shaky breath of release from her sweaty, heaving chest as she eased down onto him, making him groan out loudly and grip her hips harder than before.

It had been a whole year since he had felt the touch of a woman but it had been totally worth it in the end. Because it was with her and that’s all that mattered.

“Oh Freddie.” She moaned, placing her hands against his chest as she began to rock back and forth. He could feel his toes curl just from the mere sight of her getting off on his cock. Her lashes sat gently against her soft cheeks and her plush lower lip was stuck between her teeth.

Unable to bear it, Fred began to thrust up into her with a rapid and rough pace, trying to catch up in the chase. The sounds admitting from both of them and their collective wetness grew. He knew neither of them would be able to last much longer. Especially after being away from one another for so long.

“Come ‘ere.” He panted, sweat forming in his hairline and on his upper lip. She nodded and leaned down so he could wrap his arms around her in a hug. They stayed like this for a while as he continued to slam up into her again and again. He made sure to have her ear close to his lips, so she could hear just how good she was making him feel.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He winced as his orgasm began to rise to the surface.

“It’s okay, let go.” She struggled to whisper. He nodded in response and squeezed her arse, pressing her further down on to him with every rough slam of his hips.

He then let out a shuddering sigh as he finished inside of her, all of his muscles relaxing that had been clenching during their heated escapade.

Y/N continued to whine and rut herself against him, making it clear that she hadn’t reached her climax yet.

Fred laid his head back on to his pillow in exhaustion, taking her with down him. He wasn’t done though. This was all about her and Fred be damned if he didn’t make her come at least twice.

His hand crept between their sweaty, connected bodies and pressed his fingers to her sensitive clit. Small ministrations were made to her bundle of nerves and she couldn’t help but kiss up his neck and grind down on him in return, a lot like when she would use her pillow after they broke up, always thinking of him of course.

“Freddie, baaaby!” She cried out, making his body tense up again as well as his cock.

“Yes baby?” He asked while stroking her arse with his other hand.

“Almost there.” She answered through heavy breaths.

“You look so good for me, love. Using me as your personal sex toy. Fuck I love you so much.” His words encouraged her to quicken the pace of her hips which made her clench her thighs against his sides.

“Oh god.” She groaned out as her eyes rolled back slightly before shaking and then relaxing, dropping all of her body weight on top of him.

Hot air deflated from her lungs, hitting his sweaty chest.

“Fuck I’ve missed you.” He quietly chuckled while rubbing her moist back with one hand and combing through his now wet hair with the other. She giggled in return and dragged her lips over the skin of his chest tiredly before reaching up to kiss him.

“I love you.” She hummed.

“I love you.” He responded candidly.

It didn’t take long for sleep to take over the young couple as they held on to each other for dear life.

May 8th, 1997

The next morning Y/N woke up with a jolt. Remembering it was a Sunday she relaxed again.

Her eyes roamed around the space for a moment, recalling that she never made it back home the day before.

Looking to her left, she saw Fred laying naked on his stomach with a leg draped over her torso and his arms tucked underneath his pillow. His face was sunken into the feathery fabric as he emitted soft peaceful snores. The poor bloke probably hadn’t had this good of a sleep in over a year.

She didn’t want to wake him right away. Instead she allowed herself to watch him and enjoy his beautiful features that she adored so much. Almost as if he were a spectacle.

She shifted over so she was laying on her side. Fred’s leg slipped off of her frame in the process. Her hand then came up to his face to caress his cheek.

“Mm, hello there.” He spoke through a dopey smile and deep morning voice, sending her into a tizzy. She chuckled lightly and began rubbing his exposed bicep in a soothing manner.

His eyes stayed closed as he let out a deep sigh, pulling Y/N further into his chest.

“Freddie?” She asked quietly. He hummed in response, pressing her even closer to him.

“I should be going soon.” She hated to break up the lovely moment but she couldn’t stay for much longer.

What would happen after this moment, no one knew. But what was most important was that the year of silence was now finally over.

“No, don’t.” He whined and pouted as he shifted down a bit to nuzzle his face in between her breasts. His favourite place to be.

She let out a sigh and gently played with the hairs at the back of his neck.

“Freddie, you promised.” She warned. He groaned out in a huff and finally let go of her, followed by getting out of bed begrudgingly.

She watched him as he walked around the bedroom, picking out an outfit for the day from the numerous piles of clothes.

“Fred talk to me.” She hated the silence.

“I don’t want you to leave.” He was unable to look her in the eye as he paced around his room, continuing to get himself dressed.

“I don’t know where we go from here.” He gripped his dark oak drawer at her words, frustrated that she was still being so stubborn, even after the events from the night prior.

“Look, I want you here, always. I want to wake up in the morning and have your face be the first thing I see, then have it be the last thing I see before I go to sleep. Is that enough of a forward for you?”

She groaned in aggravation and threw herself back down on to the bed. It seemed as though no compromise was ever going to be made.

“Look Fred.” She stared up at his ceiling.

“We can take it slow. I can make more of an effort to come see you on the weekends and you can make more of an effort to write to me. We will see where things take us, you know… slowly.” He turned at this with a sigh and walked back over to the bed, crawling over to her and placing a loving kiss to her lips.

“If it means the possibility of us being us again, then yes, I’ll do whatever it takes.” She smiled and grabbed his face, kissing him once more.

“Deal.” She sat up enthusiastically and stuck her hand out for him to take. He looked down at it as if she had an extra thumb. She waited patiently and he rolled his eyes, finally grabbing her hand in his and shaking it, almost as if they had just closed a business deal.

He then tugged her towards him by the hand which made her land on top of him. He began to tickle her and she immediately squirmed in his grasp.

“Stop, I need to get dressed!” She squealed.

“Who’s the best shag of your life?” He asked teasingingly.

“You!” She laughed through her struggle.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you love.” He further pushed through a cheeky grin.

“Fred Weasley is the best shag of my life!” She knew this was the only way that he would let up.

“Right answer.” She scoffed at his smug response as he let go of her.

“Only shag is more like it.” She muttered jokingly, just loud enough for him to hear.

“And don’t you forget it.” He winked before smacking her bare arse and rolling off the bed. She yelped and gave him a look of light hearted warning.

She soon got up herself and began to change, noticing out of the corner of her eye, Fred watching her from the doorway.

“What?” She asked in false annoyance.

“Nothing, just looking at you is all.” He was beaming from ear to ear. She rolled her eyes playfully in return.

Once she was done getting dressed, he reached his hand out for her to take. She walked over and grabbed it, allowing him to lead her out of the room and down the hall.

When they reached the kitchen, they didn’t initially notice George sitting at the kitchen table, enjoying a bowl of cereal.

The couple were to busy poking and prodding each other as they looked through the fridge for breakfast.

“Mooorning.” They quickly shot up and shut the fridge, turning to see George smirking at them, who was as it seemed, clearly aware of what had occurred the night prior.

He gave them a wink and a knowing look before going back to his bowl.

[whaleofatjme1920]

Searching for Hidden Things (Ticci Toby X F!Reader)

Searching for Hidden Things

[Ticci Toby X F!Reader]

[Warnings: it's kinda sad? Language, blood but only slight.]

[AN: Another good one from Eris]

You are convinced that your home is haunted now more than ever. While you are not particularly ghost believer inclined, as a witch, your mind is open to these kinds of happenings but that’s not your field of study - you’re much more inclined to herbology and green witchery as opposed to medium and seership into other planes of existence. The natural, real world is what you are focused on. Not some spectre that happens to like little knickknacks that you don’t even claim ownership to.

How on earth did you end up here?

Simple. Fresh out of college and working from home, you decided to leave your stuffy city and come out to the countryside to get back into nature. It took forever to find a place that piqued your interest, but a small town smack dab in the middle of Alabama. You’re almost dead certain there’s barely five thousand people in the area. Though, you hardly stick around long enough to find out.

You only dip into town in the evenings and get the groceries that you can’t grow. Let’s just say you really enjoy living off the land and that practice helps you further your own craft. It’s anything a hedgewitch might dream of. The people that live here are pleasant, but they’re silent.

It was a normal evening visiting your favorite curiosity and occult shop run by a sweet girl and her partner who have come to expect you weekly on Saturdays. You usually stay for tea and a cupcake or whatever baked good Zinnia and Briar have set up for you, and it is from one of these little sit downs that you found out your home isn’t exactly normal.

“It’s so nice to see you again, love bug!” Briar smiles widely, their arms opening to greet you.

You smile back and walk into their arms and hug back just as tightly. “I could never miss tea time with my two favorite curio owners,” you chuckle.

Zinnia pops out from the back, her hands are covered by oven mitts. “I just made some brownies! Also have some angel food cake from last night. Come, come. Briar? Get the tea,” she says as she rushes to the back to set up the table in the sunroom.

Briar nods and puts their hand on your upper back, guiding you to the back. “My wife thought you would’ve liked the angel food cake. She’s been talking about it all night,” they explain, a giggle on their lips.

Zinnia is buzzing around like a bumble bee while her partner attempts to get her to sit down. She’s a good host, you’ll give her that. This is your fourth sit down with them and she’s like this every time.

“Reader isn’t going to care about the plates-” Briar attempts to say before getting shushed by Zinnia.

“I like being aesthetically pleasing,” she says as Briar absentmindedly ties her curly black hair into a ponytail. “Unlike you,” she giggles.

You roll your eyes playfully at their sweet gestures. “Aesthetically pleasing or not, those brownies and the cake look delicious.”

“See? Reader gets it,” Briar lightly ribs before bringing the tea to the table, Zinnia following close behind them with platters and plates. “So,” Briar hums. “How is your place?”

You begin pouring yourself some tea and shrug. “I don’t think I ever mentioned it to you, have I?”

The couple shake their heads as they get comfortable in their seats. “Where have you put your boots down?” Zinnia inquires.

“There’s this little house in the woods,” you begin to explain before sipping at your tea. “Had a great garden and was already furnished, asked the realtor and she practically threw it into my arms.” You put down your tea cup and cut a brownie for yourself before raising a brow at the couple’s shocked and slightly confused expressions. “What’s wrong?”

Briar blinks a few times before shaking their head. “It’s nothing! Just, it’s the house in the woods?”

You nod in confirmation. “The house in the west woods, near the pond with water lilies?” You continue in an attempt to further their understanding, getting the feeling there’s something you don’t know but should. “Guys..?”

“S-Sorry,” Zinnia suddenly says. “It’s just that…” Her eyes shift around for a few moments before she leans in close, as if she was telling you a secret. “That house is haunted.”

Your eyes go wide before you laugh. You laugh and laugh and then when you realize they’re silent, you blink. “Wait what? Why do you say that?”

“Someone used to live there a few years ago, we moved in after her… disappearance,” Briar explains. “She just,” Briar makes a poof shape with their hands, “like nothing. No trace, no leads, the house was empty but everything of theirs? Still there.”

“Who was the person that lived there before?” You ask, intrigue kicking up before you bite into the brownies and then try the angel food cake. Zinnia was right, you do like it.

Briar shrugs, “we don’t know. Whispers say it was the girl named Natalie. She kept to herself but from the people I’ve talked to so far - at least, those who would talk about it - said she was sweet and spunky.”

“Guy at the grocery store, Mr. Wu? He said that Natalie was his regular. They were friends,” Zinnia adds on. “He used to visit her house every now and then and said near the end, her behavior got kind of squirrely. One night, he went to visit her and saw her running. Of course, guy is like seventy, got scared and ran back home. Called the police over it. They got there? Nothing.”

You nod as you listen to them give out their theories on what might have happened to Natalie. It’s one of the most interesting things you’ve heard of since you moved in.

When you returned home, you couldn’t help but shake the thought you were a guest in what used to be Natalie’s home. Your hands flew over the slightly dusty shelves and found it wrong to really touch anything that might not be yours. There’s books about boring things, encyclopedias, general knowledge, young adult fiction, but nothing that tells you who she was.

As you stand with your arms crossed in your living room, you search for the things that were left from her. Your room is entirely yours, you’ve already managed to find a room and clear it out for your witchy things, the kitchen was empty and there is no basement. This house is small, more like a cottage. If there were any signs of who she was, they’re not easy at making themselves known.

All you have to go off of from her is the living room and is undoubtedly Natalie’s and not yours. The shelves and other knick knacks are things that don’t match your aesthetic at all. Seems she was fond of the color green, just not plants like you are.

It’s by the living room that you’re able to learn some things about Natalie, even if they’re minute. For instance, you can tell that either she likes costumes or she’s missing an eye due to a small box of eyepatches varying in color and design. She’s got a frew petal pressed flowers - tulips - and last you checked, that meant a declaration of love according to the standard Victorian language of flowers.

You know absolutely nothing about Natalie other than her name and that she may be missing an eye and that she has tulips, but she permeates your mind like a virus that refuses to go away. You’re entranced with her, and want to know more of her.

When you work on sigils, you make one for her and put it in the corners of the front windows and in the doorframe. You wonder if she’s out there, and if she is, if she’s safe. If she is, you hope the runes and sigils you’ve made for her will keep her that way.

One evening at the grocery store, you have the privilege of being able to speak to Mr. Wu when ringing up some craving you’ll know you’ll inevitably have.

“Natalie?” He hums as he rings up your items. “She was a nice girl,” he continues. “Very kind, had a good sense of humor.”

You furrow your brows and smile sympathetically at him. “I’m sorry for-”

“It’s no matter,” Mr. Wu brushes off. “I don’t know what happened to her, and I’d like to think she’s still out there,” he begins checking the register for the total. “I’d like to think that when she was running, it was towards better and away from whatever it was she couldn’t get here..” His old, weathered hand reaches out to show you the total on the screen. You notice he’s put on a 50% discount. “On me,” he smiles.

Ever since then, Natalie has consumed your thoughts entirely.

So, how does this all tie into a little sparrow figurine going missing? You think it’s haunted. Genuinely. Have you angered Natalie’s spirit by messing with her house? You’re not so sure. You don’t communicate with spirits, though you’re considering picking up a pendulum and attempting.

Ever since you’ve heard about Natalie, things in your house have been getting moved or straight up lifted. It doesn’t help that you hear, no, you think you hear, things outside lurking around your home. Spiritually, you’ve protected the place more than you think is necessary. The not deer, skinny legends and Wendy boys really shouldn’t be knocking around her mostly because the place is just one giant protective bubble. Still, as you sit up late in the night and look at the moon as it reflects the water from the pond and the peer through the darkness of the trees that hang much too low, you know something is out there that shouldn’t be.

This has all come to a head when you wake up one morning to see that the sparrow figurine is gone. It makes you startle and almost drop your mug in response.

“How the hell..?” You say as you stare at the empty space. Its little circular base has left the real shade of the wood it sits on open. The dust has accumulated around it. You saw it here just yesterday! Little brown and tan sparrow and now it’s gone.

On instinct, you open your front door. It was still locked, and it doesn’t seem that anyone came in. But you know that you didn’t move it either. You haven’t touched any of Natalie’s things, you wouldn’t because you’re worried you’re going to upset her spirit or something. Who took it?

Unfortunately, that’s not even the first time it’s happened. A few days later, the little robin is gone too. Now you are absolutely convinced your home is haunted.

Of course, you call up one of your friends who also practices witchcraft like you do to see what you can do about making amends with a spirit. He’s a death witch - he should know.

“Wait what?” He says, his voice conveying nothing but confusion.

“You heard me,” you sigh as you plop down on the couch. “I think she’s been like, taking things because she doesn’t trust me with them?” You say in a slightly confused tone.

“But you really haven’t moved anything in the living room, right? From the pictures you sent me, you left that space as hers. She shouldn’t be upset considering you never touched her stuff.”

“But these figurines are still missing. How did they just get up and go?” You ask in a slightly exasperated tone, staring at the empty space.

“Y’know what you should try?” He begins, a small audible smile on his face. “Find something personal of hers and return it to her. Maybe she’s looking for something and is just settling.”

“Do you have a protocol for that or..?” You trail off.

“I’ll send you a page from my grimoire, sounds good?”

Here you are, late at night, not able to sleep and looking for something personal of hers. You don’t think it’s anything out in the open that she wants because why would she want that? It’s in her line of sight. You’ve practically turned up your home looking for it - her home? You’re not sure what kind of terminology you should use in regards to this house, but you know you’re hellbent on finding something, anything of importance to her home.

“Come on, Natalie,” you mumble to yourself as you head to your bedroom and begin overturning things. “I just need something of yours, help me make it make sense,” you say. “Natlie, Natalie, Nat, Nat-” and immediately after that nickname tumbles from your lips, you get the overwhelming urge to check under your bed.

Like a mad woman, you dive down to the floor and begin pulling your storage boxes out from under it. One of them snags slightly, and when you tug on it, you pull. Odd. You tug even harder. That’s when part of the carpet comes up. You raise your brow and shove the box out of the way before crawling under yourself and use the flashlight on your phone. It’s dark, a little dusty under here, but you clearly know someone has been under here before.

Your fingertips creep around the edge of the odd piece of carpet before you pull it up, seeing that it’s already been cut up. And there, you feel a handle.

“Oh my gods,” you mumble creeping further under the bed before yanking at the small handle. It doesn’t give right away. In fact, it makes you bump your head from the sheer force of trying to open it. It’s almost as if it was a secret and you’re violating the parties who knew it existed. Still, you continue to tug on it before it finally pops open. You move your phone over to see that there’s a box with the lid loosely placed on. Your hand gently reaches in and scoops the box up. You hold it like it’s glass. “Thank you, Natalie, thank you,” you mumble as you roughly and awkwardly crawl out from back under the bed.

You sit on your bedroom floor now, your phone now forgotten as your fingertips gently trace the box. You mentally ask for Natalie’s permission to open it and when you get the feeling of something warm, like a hug, you do so. Inside the box that you gingerly open, you see that there are letters, letters upon letters in a writing addressed to her.

“Can I read these, Natalie?” You ask softly, your eyes scanning over the one you hold in your hand dates from a few years ago. You feel that warm hug again, and the night alights with songs from the birds on the pond. You know you have her permission.

‘March 16, 20XX. Dear Natalie, how are you? I just wanted to apologize for the other day. I shouldnt have left that soon, but you know hoy my dad is. Anyways, just wanted to check in. Hope to see you soon.’

‘March 22, 20XX. Dear Natalie, I wasn’t actually expecting you to get back to me after what happened! I - thank you. Things have been just fine with me, but I miss being in Alabama. No reason, just miss the woods by your place.’

‘May 5th, 20XX. It’s funny you mentioned that, I saw something last night that reminded me of you too. Y’know how you’re always going on about time and being punctual? The other day, me and my comrades were walking through an antique store. Whole bunch of clocks. Made me think of you:).’

You keep reading the letters and piecing together the story of these two as it picks up through the years as general friendship to something more. This person that Natalie was writing to told them a lot of things - everything from the general happenings of the day to more quieter, intimate things (that you tend to skip over out of respect for Natalie.)

Reading the letters to Natalie becomes a daily occurrence for you. There’s so many that you decide it wouldn’t be right to read them all in one day. So, you read two a night and piece together their story, learning of their love and finding out just who they were. Natalie left some letters that she never sent to her love, mostly the ones that she must have considered duds or the angry ones that she decided not to send when her fire had died down. What? All couples go through those patches. It’s whether you can fix it and get back on the road or hitchhike with another driver that determines the outcome. And them? They loved each other so much, looking at another driver to get to their destination was never an option.

It takes months for you to get through the letters. Even reading two a day, it’s hard to get through a few years worth of content. They wrote to each other often. You’re able to see the full spectrum of emotions from them two, even if you’re on;y reading the letters addressed TO Natalie and not from her (for the most part). You read them smiling, and can hear their tears alongside their laughter. They no longer feel like names on paper, but real, once breathing people.

Eventually, you reach a letter that finally completes the story as you know it. It’s dated from right around the time you know Zinnia and Briar moved in. It explains a lot.

You know that whoever Natalie’s love was working for was NOT a good man. He struck the fear of the gods into them. He was called ‘The Operator’ and apparently had eyes everywhere despite being faceless. The way Natalie’s love writes about him has you feeling chills down your spine. Them too, because it was enough for them to want to run away. Natalie’s love was called a proxy, and from what you can understand, that means he’s a person who does work for someone else because they don’t want to get directly involved. The Operator treats those who work under him like cattle, and nothing more. He was a scary, scary man, and the society he runs is one you know is not intertwined with yours.

The letter that’s in your hands is the last one before their escape it seems.

‘August 31st, 2018. Dear Nat, are you nervous? I’m nervous - you can probably tell by my writing. Tonight we leave everything behind. We run. I hope you know that it’s never too late for you to back out. Because after this, we can never go back to what we used to. I’m so sorry that being around that tall fuck-but did this to you - and shit, by extension, me. I’m so sorry for hurting you, but this is it. This is it. This is the final stop.

Who knew that me striking up a conversation with a cute girl behind the counter of some hippy’s coffee shop would lead to a love like ours? You mean the world to me, Nat. I’m more and more thankful every day that I think about you and receiving your letters has me up to the moon. If you asked me about this kind of thing before I met you, I would have told you that I would never have gotten rid of the proxy lifestyle for a human. Humans are… Well, according to the Operator, they’re dangerous. They’re not worth us.

But you? Oh gods, you? You changed everything. You made it worthwhile. You came into my life like a splash of color in a world so grey and cold and bathed me in warmth until I could reciprocate your love and make room for it to grow. I love you, Natalie. I love you so, so much. After tonight, we won’t ever have to worry about this - the space and the distance between us. No more hiding. No more secrets. Just us and our transparency.

I love you, Natalie. I love you so, so much. I’ll see you tonight, backdoor as per what is our usual. To the moon and back! Love, Toby.’

You don’t know why, but Toby’s letter makes you tear up. It’s like you can feel exactly how Natalie must’ve felt when she received it. The tears that prick your eyes roll down your cheeks and you can’t help but take a few moments. You’d always known their story ended with something sad due to the whispers in the town, but getting confirmation that Natalie ran… It didn’t work. It just didn’t work.

You’re wiping away your tears when you hear your backdoor get thrown open. No one comes out to your neck of the woods, and it makes you panic. You can’t find your phone - dang it! Must’ve left it in the kitchen. You scramble around your room as you hear whoever just broke into your house walk confidently without a care in the world to the living room.

“W-Who the f-fuck lives here n-now?” You hear a male voice mutter as they pass your bedroom door. “A-All this w-w-witchy shit,” they continue.

You mentally huff. Rude. You then quietly slink around before grabbing a large chunk of amethyst. It’s rough to the touch and weighty, and unfortunately, one of the only things you have as a weapon now. Your heart is pounding as you quietly move through your hallway to the living room.

“Where i-is it?” He continues mumbling to himself as he tears your living room apart.

You’re able to see him by the faint light of the moon. He’s got brown hair and twitches slightly. Is he nervous? He’s still tearing up your living room though and touching Natalie’s things, and that's unforgivable in your head. So, you raise your chunk of amethyst pillar and quietly creep behind him.

He turns around to look at you, genuinely surprised someone is here when you whack him as hard as you can with the chunk of amethyst. “Are y-you fucking s-serious?!” He yells as he pushes you back.

You look at him with confusion as you back up, still clutching the amethyst before you notice that he didn’t react in the way he should. You hit him really, really hard and in the back of the head. He’s back up and glaring at you like you mildly inconvenienced him. And now? Now he’s pissed and looking at you like he’s going to kill you. You notice that he has hatchets on the sides of his waist.

“C-Come here,” he taunts, eyes narrowed and slowly closing the distance between you.

“Stop,” you shout in an attempt to command him back. “I will hit you-”

“With t-that?” He sneers.

“I swear to the gods I will-”

He looks like he’s ready to pounce when he suddenly stops, a certain sadness and pause rushing over his body and his face as he looks at the letters in your hand. You’d honestly forgotten you were still holding them.

“Where d-did you g-g-g-get those?” He asks quietly, his shoulder dropping.

“What?” You ask, surprised he can do an impression of a human being.

“Those l-letters! They’re n-not yours!” You pull back hard when he tries to grab them from you and swing the amethyst at him and sneer when he ducks. “They’re not yours either!”

“T-The hell t-they aren’t! I-I wrote t-t-them!” He shouts back.

You immediately deflate. “You’re Toby?”

He freezes and flails his arms slightly as if to ask nonverbally, ‘you read those?’

You sigh deeply and rest your hand on your forehead before you rest your arms down slowly, showing that you’re not going to fight him. It’s a pleasant surprise that he slowly copies your movements. “Do you know how a keurig works?”

He nods slowly.

“Make us some coffee. We got a lot to talk about.”

“So, t-t-that’s why you’re here,” Toby hums as he dumps another unholy amount of sugar into his coffee cup. “I-I thought y-you were some s-squatter in Nat’s h-house,” he admits with a small chuckle before scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck.

You take in a small breath and nod, a small smile pulling your lips upwards. “This is what you were looking for, huh?” You say as you push the box full of memories towards him.

He puts the cup down and takes it into his hands carefully before hugging it to his chest. He then takes in a deep breath, relaxing. “Y-Yes, this is t-them,” he says quietly. “That’s a-a-all I really w-wanted.”

“And the little figurines?” You hum, a knowing smirk on your face.

Toby flushes slightly and nods once more. “T-They just r-r-reminded me o-of her.” He then places the box in front of him and leans back, his eyes blinking upwards towards the ceiling before he stares up at the ceiling. “I lost h-her that n-night,” he says, voice so soft and scared as if he’s reliving it.

“Toby…”

“That w-w-was our thing, y-y’know? W-We were gonna b-b-be free. My b-b-boss found out,” Toby hisses as he picks one of the letters up and gestures with it, “a-and he s-sent my own c-comrades to…” He closes his eyes to stop the tears from welling within them.

-

Natalie was grabbing her backpack from her room with everything important when Toby came to the doorway and smiled at her. “What’re you doing here?” She chuckled, her green eye flashing with amusement. “Thought you were gonna be getting stuff ready in the kitchen and watching the door.”

“Just d-don’t like being a-a-away from you,” Toby said, a small smirk on his face as he came up to Natalie and brushed a long strand of brown hair from her face. “You’re s-s-such a p-pretty girl,” he complimented.

Natalie blushed slightly and took his hand that rested on her cheek into hers. “Go. I’ll be fine in here.”

“W-Whatever you s-say, p-princess,” he teased before pressing a kiss to her forehead and hesitantly leaving her side.

Natalie rolled her eyes with that smile never leaving her face as she continued getting the last of her things ready for the leave. When she was absolutely certain she was ready to go, she slid the backpack on and headed to the living room. She was ready to go and start a new life with Toby, the only man who ever made her heart skip a beat.

“Are you ready?” She asked, her arms wrapping around Toby’s waist as he finished his cup of coffee.

“S-Sure am,” he replied before turning around and wrapping her in his arms. “You g-gonna miss t-t-this place?”

“Absolutely not,” Natalie laughed. “I can’t wait to get out-”

What happened next was pure chaos. The back and front door were both breached by men in masks, and Natalie quickly deduced that they were Toby’s comrades. His boss found out. Toby reached for the front table and palmed his hatchets and swung them at the man in the white mask.

“Run!” Toby shouted, pushing Natalie towards the open front door. He watched his heart run out and shake off the backpack to gain speed as she took off into the night. Masky hit him, but he did not flinch.

“Fucking hell, Toby!” A gruff voice shouted.

The young proxy then watched in horror as a flash of yellow zipped out into the night to chase after Natalie. Toby felt worry cloud hsi every movement as he dodged and hit Masky. Hoodie’s specialty was tracking and hunting. He had to get out there to help Natalie.

Toby took a step back then ran into Masky as hard as he could, slamming his leader into the floor before attempting to brutalize, but not kill him. When he was sure that Masky was going to need a moment, he shot up and sprinted out of the house and into the darkened forest to find Natalie. He must’ve prayed the entire time he ran.

He ran over the heavy forest growth and cursed the roots that almost tripped him before he felt his world go quiet.

Natalie was screaming.

Toby heard his name cried out in the trees and his heart sunk down to the forest floor as he ran wildly to the source. He felt hot tears as they rolled down his cheeks as he finally found that same damned hue of yellow waiting for him.

“Was wondering when you’d show up,” Hoodie mused as he dug his boot onto Natalie’s skull, making her cry out in pain and fear. Her arms reached out for Toby, his name permanently on her lips.

“You f-fucking bastard!” Toby roared as he lurched forward, attempting to beat Hoodie within an inch of his life when something hard smacked into the back of his head. Toby turned around to see Masky. His brown eyes were full of murder as he stalked towards Toby.

“I should kill you for this,” Masky sneered as he got within arm’s distance of Toby.

Toby glared and swung his hatchet again at Masky, now out for blood when Hoodie slammed his boot back into Natalie’s skull, a crack sending Toby into a fury.

“You won’t touch him if you know what’s good for you,” Hoodie said, his hands loosely hung in his pockets. “Leave him alone and focus on your girl.”

Toby felt chills down his spine as he turned his full attention to Natalie. “My g-g-girl,” he whispered as he fell to his knees to hold her. “M-My s-sweet, sweet g-girl.” His hands shoved Hoodie off of her skull, giving her room to breathe. After that, he turned her over on her back as she cried out in pain. He rested her head on his lap and let her sob.

“Toby,” she croaked in a voice like sandpaper. “Toby, it hurts,” she cried, hands reaching out to his face.

“I know,” he said as he gripped her hand. “I k-know, baby, I k-know.” Tears were pouring from his eyes just to see someone he loved in such pain. “It’ll b-be over soon, I p-promise.” His other hand that wasn’t being gripped by Natalie’s went to pet her hair and give her some comfort.

“Over real soon,” Masky huffed. “You better finish this.” Masky continued. “Or I’ll make Hoodie put a bullet in her skull.”

Toby sent another glare up to Masky and protectively held onto Natalie just a bit harder to not cause her physical body anymore pain.

“We need to run,” Natalie whispered as she reached up to hold Toby’s face. “We can still go-”

Toby hushed her as his eyes scanned over her body. She was beyond repair. Hoodie had broken her legs and bent them at angles that should not exist. “You n-need to r-rest, okay? W-We’ll go in t-t-the morning, I p-promise.”

“You do?” She asked, her beautiful green eye beginning to see the world more in shapes than in

“Y-Yes,” Toby promises. “Have I e-e-ever broken a p-promise to y-you?” He hummed before leaning down as best he could to kiss her forehead. “I l-love you, s-so, so m-much.”

Natalie sleepily giggled and allowed her tears to cascade down her face. “I love you too. To the moon and back?”

“T-To the moon a-a-and back,” he said as the grip she held on his hand weakened.

“Toby, my Toby,” she said softly, her voice growing softer as she repeated the words like a mantra. When her breathing slowed until it was nothing, her hand went limp in Toby’s.

Toby closed his eyes as his heart fell into millions of pieces. He refused to let Natalie go that night, and his teammates, who had acted on behalf of a father who did not love them, let him.

-

“A p-part of m-me died with h-her that night,” Toby says as he lovingly looks over the letters. “I still c-can’t breathe r-right without her.” He closes his eyes and allows his tears to fall. “I d-don’t think I e-e-ever will.”

You get up from your seat and pick it up, silently moving it to rest next to Toby as he begins to cry. You know he must’ve held this one in for so, so long. After planting your chair down next to him, you take him into your arms and allow him to cry.

Toby holds onto you and doesn’t let go. It’s like he views you as a comfort blanket or a teddy bear. And you let him. You let him get it all out.

You feel tears well in your eyes and let them fall too.

[goldentournesol]

The Receptionist and the Profiler (Seven)

Chapter Seven: Sweet Fulfilment

(Spencer Reid x f!Reader)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

The silence that fell upon them in Rossi’s backyard was so heavy, no one dared to break it. Derek was brave enough to stand and follow Y/N into the house, most likely to drive her home. The rest received the message and began to dwindle away, until only Ashley and Spencer were left.

Spencer absentmindedly fiddled with the top of his cane, still stunned into silence from Y/N’s heavy confession. He could feel Ashley’s eyes on him, but didn’t bother looking at her. His mind was racing ten times faster than it ever had before.

Ashley breathed out a sigh and kept it simple and straightforward, “Do you love her?” She asked softly. 

He wished to hear some malice in her tone, thinking it might make him feel something other than shock, but all he heard was curiosity. He didn’t even have to think to find the answer, but which answer was he willing to give?

“Yes.” He said, not even having the audacity to see the reaction it brought upon her eyes. 

He should have felt horrible for hurting Ashley, but he couldn’t bring it upon himself to feel anything but relief as he replayed Y/N’s words in his head. He heard her move to stand up and remained motionless as she left him on the couch. She went inside and Spencer deduced that she’d probably already taken her car and returned home. He’d have to find a different ride home but that was the least of his problems right now.

No one knew what to tell him as he passed them in the spacious living room a half hour later. No one knew where to start with him, but their unrelated hushed conversations continued on. Y/N had stupefied them all, but him especially. His heart should have been soaring because of her confession, but he knew he’d have to give Ashley a proper goodbye. She deserved one, even though he had quite literally used her in the most ungentlemanly of ways. He hadn’t let themselves get too invested in the relationship, though. He’d always kept her at arm’s length for fear of getting too attached. 

The next day, he’d promptly gone to her apartment and given a heartfelt apology. She’d let him know how hurt she was and that she was not going to be returning to the BAU. He still felt bad, but once again, he felt like he could breathe. Like the air knew its way back to his lungs. 

The weekend came and went, silence on both ends. Both lovers just stewing in their own pots. Both pots teeming with unadulterated, unconditional love and affection for one another. It could barely be contained at this point. Time seemed to float by and before they knew it they were back in the office. A new month had just begun. She felt new, she felt like she’d peeled off a layer of her skin, one that had been holding her back, trapping her within the confines of herself.

With the new month, she was called in early to have the routine monthly meeting with Hotch where they went over the itinerary of the next month. They liked to plan whatever they could given that half of the BAU’s job was unpredictable.

“So, I have here the form that Strauss asked for. Also, the 6th floor’s printer is a literal piece of junk and I’ve typed up a formal proposal so that maybe we could get a new one? I coordinated with Penelope about the funds and she says there are sufficient funds for a new printer.” Y/N said, handing Hotch a typed document. 

Even after all these years, her dedication to this job continues to blow him away. He’d come to see her as a work-daughter. He has taught her so much over the past few years and he’ll always have a special place in her heart. He nodded, glancing over the document.

“Great, I trust you and Penelope will pick an adequate printer.” He paused, sending her a smile. He noticed the slight glimmer in her eye, “I know you’ve been having a rough few months, Y/N, and it’s not technically my place to get involved in your personal life, as your boss, but as your friend, I hope you know that I am available to help you in any way I possibly can.”

Her whole face formed into a fond smile, “Thanks, Hotch and yes, I know.” She chuckled slightly.

“You are a dedicated employee and a wonderful person. If you ask me--” He was interrupted by his office door slamming open, showcasing an absolutely beaming Dr. Spencer Reid in the doorway.

“Hotch, I am so sorry to interrupt your meeting,” Spencer’s eyes flew from Hotch to Y/N, his attention now zeroed in on her. He leaned into the office, not fully entering, “are you free for dinner tonight?” he asked in a rushed manner, as if not getting a fast answer would somehow make him lose all the confidence he’d mustered up.

“M-me? Yes! I mean, yes, I’m free tonight.” Y/N answered, flustered at the interruption as well as the question. Spencer’s face split into a grin and he tapped the doorframe once awkwardly.

“Great, then...it’s a date.” He raised his brows and tried to lessen his grin as he snuck a glance at Hotch before gracelessly forming his lips into a line and scurrying out of the small office.

Y/N turned back to Hotch quickly with eyes widened with disbelief and a face totally failing to contain the utter joy she felt, “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

Hotch only responded with a knowing smile at the precious interaction he’d just witnessed firsthand.

First dates were supposed to be awkward, however, their first date was anything but. Spencer had showed up with a fresh haircut, his shoulder length hair cut into a dreamy, swoopy style that sat along his forehead comfortably. It was so much more attractive than Y/N could outwardly-or inwardly- admit. His knee was now fully healed and no longer needed his cane which allowed them to walk around the city freely.

They’d both realized how stupid and blind they’ve been over the years. Y/N confessed to feeling especially stupid for staying with Anderson for so long, even when she had realized her true feelings for Spencer. Time had passed them by like it was nothing. 

Spencer, like the true gentleman he is, insisted he’d walk her home. He’d feel more comfortable knowing she was safe, not to mention that he was extremely curious about her new apartment. He hadn’t expected Y/N to invite him in, but of course she did, because that was who she was. She was warm and inviting, and if she was being honest, she didn’t want the night to end yet.

“I’m sorry about the mess, I haven’t really been in the right headspace these past few weeks.” She said, walking him inside. He took a look around and noticed a few unpacked boxes out of place but he definitely wouldn’t characterize it as messy. 

He chuckled softly and shrugged, “Trust me, it’s fine.” Her shoulders dropped with relief slightly and she returned his lightheartedness by smiling and flopping onto the couch.

“It’s been so long since I’ve lived on my own. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the silence.” Y/N said, but only realized how sad it must have sounded after she said it. Spencer took a seat next to her on her small, but comfortable couch.

“I feel quite the opposite, I think I’ve been living on my own for--for a long time.” He said, thinking back to his days but pushing away the especially dark parts. 

She dared to glance at him, seeing him in her space was so...different. So refreshing. It’s like this apartment needed Spencer in it for it to feel complete. Or maybe that was her heart speaking. Maybe both the apartment and her heart needed Spencer to feel whole. Her glance had long been forgotten and had turned into a longing gaze instead.

“Spencer, I-” She gazed at him, feeling the words get caught up in her throat before she could have had the chance to voice them. Besides, what words would ever be able to convey the way she felt towards him? 

Words escaped her when he looked at her like that--all soft eyes and a fond, lopsided smile, despite his curiosity at her interrupted sentence. She made the mistake of glancing at his lips, the lips that were so appealing, practically calling her name. The ones she’d caught herself daydreaming about for years and years on end. His proximity was intoxicating and before she could doubt herself, she closed the gap between them, her hands attaching themselves to the lapels of his blazer to pull him ever so slightly closer.

His lips were just as warm and inviting as she’d remembered them, but this time the kiss tasted sweeter, it was no longer tainted with suppressed guilt and confusion. His lips tasted like certainty. It was clear that she’d finally found what she’d been missing all these years. The gentle push and pull of the kiss was invigorating to them both. His slightly calloused hands found her flushed cheeks, each thumb delicately caressing the delicate skin beneath the pads of his fingers. They’d savored the kiss so much that when they pulled away, two, three, four tender, short kisses followed the initial one.

Almost as if they’d never get enough of each other. Like if the world was ending, it wouldn’t matter, they’d go peacefully, knowing that this is what it was like. That this is what quenched thirst felt like.

“I love you.” She murmured against his lips, breath uneven. She’d known it for as long as she could remember and he’d known it too, but she was past the point of timidness to admit it now. There’s no use in prolonging it, not when she was this certain. 

The pad of his thumb traced a line across her jaw slowly as he heard the words. His face couldn’t contain his smile, teeth almost clashing into each other from their closeness. His warm, amber eyes flitted to hers, visible comfort and reassurance filling his irises. He was transported back to Rossi’s garden when he’d first told her he loved her. She knew, she knew he loved her too, which is why it was so easy.

“I love you, too.” He murmured back, pressing another passionate kiss to her lips, as a quiet admission of love. She could feel the tears gather underneath her closed lids almost as quickly as relief flooded her chest.

They’d decided to keep things under the radar for a while, neither of them too eager to showcase their relationship to the world just yet, excluding Hotch of course. They did their best anyway--or at least they thought they did. Their recent smiley faces and cheery attitudes were not invisible to America’s top profilers and well, Penelope, who was perhaps the sharpest of them all, despite not being trained to analyze behavior like the others.

Exactly two weeks after their first date, Penelope cornered Y/N at her desk around lunchtime, right before the two lovebirds took their daily lunch walk. 

“Spill.” Penelope demanded, her colorful teapot earrings swayed, contradicting the sternness in her voice.

“What are you talking about?” Y/N gazed up at her with genuine confusion.

“Uh-uh, don’t give me that. I know something fishy is going on. I can smell it.” Penelope leaned in closer and began pointing fingers. Y/N barked a laugh.

“Garcia, nothing is going on. Please tell me what you’re talking about.” She laughed, amused at the sight of her friend being so outwardly nosey.

“You think I haven’t noticed you and Boy Wonder--” She was interrupted by a loud clearing of the throat noise from Spencer to announce his presence.

“Garcia, Derek said something about making hot chocolate in the kitchenette and you know how he dips the sugar spoon back into the chocolate mix? Yeah, you should probably--” Spencer lied through his teeth but Penelope wasted no time in rushing off to the kitchenette, groaning about how she hated finding extra sugar in the chocolate.

Spencer caught Y/N’s eye and they both burst out laughing. They quickly made their exit, whispering about how close of a call it was with Garcia. Little did they know, Rossi had caught every little bit of the very tender, intimate kiss they shared before the doors of the empty elevator had closed, leaving him shaking his head at the obliviousness of the two. 

The team decided to make a game out of it very quickly when they all realized. They wanted to see which of them could expose the couple the quickest.

 JJ found extreme joy in trying to set Y/N up with one of Will’s friends right in front of Spencer.

“Come on! This guy’s totally your type, Y/N.” JJ pushed, showing her a picture of a man on her phone, leaning towards her over the top of her desk. Y/N laughed uncomfortably and glanced with panic at Spencer who was watching curiously.

“I don’t know, I d-don’t think I have a type, JJ.” She tried to brush her off, continuing to laugh in discomfort. Emily and Derek almost split their lips as they bit them to try and keep from laughing. They watched Spencer shift nervously in his seat.

“I’m just not interested.” Y/N said, “Thanks, though.” JJ finally gave in and accepted that she’d lost the bet.

Emily tried her hand at “girl-talk”, hoping that maybe Y/N would slip up and tell her about Spencer, but to no avail. That woman’s lips were sealed shut.

Derek and Penelope both tried to follow them around but Spencer and Y/N were far too cautious at work now. Derek actually had to convince Penelope to take the moral high road and refrain from tracking their devices or hacking into their messages.

After trying and failing for so long, the team finally gave up on trying to rat them out and instead decided to respectfully wait for their announcement. 

Y/N realized that she hadn’t technically invited anyone over to her new apartment and decided to throw a somewhat delayed “welcoming party” for herself. She’d cooked dinner, which Spencer did his best to contribute to, decorated the place nicely, and invited the whole team over.

“Thank you all so much for being here. I know this has been a long time coming. I’ve missed our little get-togethers and thought it’d be fitting if I finally host one, given that I now have my own apartment.” Y/N spoke from her place at the head of the dinner table which had barely ever been used before this night. It was a tight squeeze, but her heart soared as she saw the faces of her caring coworkers and friends staring up at her. They all lifted their glasses and gave her a silent toast of appreciation.

Spencer stood from his seat that was to the right of Y/N’s and cleared his throat, “Also, we have an announcement to make.” He timidly began, catching the eager smiles. “Y/N and I are, finally, together.” He waited for the cheers of excitement but nothing but an eerie knowing silence befell the dinner table.

Something clicked in Y/N’s brain as she spotted Rossi handing Hotch something under the table not-so-discreetly, “You all knew?!” She gasped in disbelief. The team broke out into fits of laughter.

“The whole time!” Garcia guffawed. Spencer and Y/N shared a look of incredulity before breaking into laughter themselves. Y/N shyly hid her face in Spencer’s shoulder as he wrapped an affectionate arm around her back.

“You guys thought you were so sneaky.” Derek threw his head back, laughing.

“Wait, so what was all that about?” Y/N asked, referring to Rossi handing Hotch something, “You guys had a bet going?”

“Technically there were two bets going. Everyone else was determined to expose you, which they all failed at, thankfully, while Rossi and I had a separate bet. I said that you’d announce it first and Rossi apparently had more faith in the team.” Hotch explained, smirking triumphantly at Rossi, who appeared delighted despite having lost the bet.

“Bet or not, you two deserve each other. I’m glad you two are happy together. To the lovely couple.” Rossi raised his glass and everyone followed in pursuit.

Spencer turned to Y/N to place a sweet but chaste kiss on her lips, leading everyone to cheer in response.

There was little he could compare to the feeling he had then, but if he had to, he’d compare it to being whole.

previous chapter/epilogue

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thank you all for joining the ride, feedback is always appreciated!

[oogaboogasphincter]

A Magpie, a Goose and a Sparrow Walk into a Found Family Trope (Ezra x f!reader)

Summary: A nightmare caused by trauma he endured before and on The Green haunts Ezra one night, his fear bleeding into reality. Under the fog of sleep, he hurts you, thinking you are the monster that is endangering you, Cee and himself while on your next trip. He apologizes by doing something that terrifies him: opening his heart up to another person.

Word Count: 10.7k+ (holy shit i deeply apologize for putting my readers through this agonizingly long junk)

Rating: M (mature) just to be safe (some pretty intense themes but i don’t think there’s anything too explicit)

Warnings: non-fatal manual strangulation and bruises from it, swearing, sexualization of two adults, mild references to sex, mild allusions to sexual arousal, discussion of trauma and its effects, Prospect (2018) spoilers, some argument, hair braiding, one (1) ✨neck✨ kiss, one use of (y/n), sprinkles of that sexual tension we all love, a resolved ending!

Author’s Note: first off, thank you SO much to @martinsmomo​ for this request!💜💕 this was so creative, i hope i did it justice :). second, AHHH!!!!! my first piece ever!!! i haven’t written anything on my own time for my own enjoyment since i was like 13, which may or may not be apparent by my comma splices, repetitive sentence structure/word choice and disagreeing verb tense💀. the thought of i have no idea what i'm doing never left my mind while i was writing this, but i just tried to go with it and have fun :). ALSO, i had so much fun reading all of the lore about the world that Prospect (2018) takes place in. Here is a link to a pamphlet about a lot of stuff that is featured in the movie, which i used while writing this piece. i highly recommend you check it out! i tried to stick to as much canon stuff as i could, but 🦋The Blue🦋 is something that i made up. also this is not beta’d, i just wanted to throw this into the void and see what happens✨. i also also want to point out that in no way am i trying to romanticize or sexualize domestic violence. i know that the subject matter in this piece can be triggering, and even though the violence wasn’t intentional and it’s resolved through love, i don’t want it to be misconstrued as something that it’s not. with that being said, i hope you enjoy it! :)

gif by @anakin-skywalker​

A grunt stirs you from your deep slumber. Your eyes open easily, a treat that you weren’t given often due to the dryness of the pod’s recirculated air. The inside of your shared galactic chamber is as dark as your mind; no illumination to shine on your thoughts and wake them up or to show you how Ezra is doing. You know the grunt had come from him, as the only other passenger was his adopted daughter, Cee. You turn in your pilot’s chair, looking over your shoulder to try and make him out through the impossible darkness.

Parcel-Class Planetary Drop Pods were designed to fit only two travelers, however the three of you had decided to embark on your next journey together. To save on costs, your partners opted for a model without cots. Being the gentleman that he is, Ezra insisted that you and Cee sleep in the pilots’ chairs. He had thrown a few blankets on the cold, flat floor and had proudly announced, “Sleeping quarters fit for a king!”, eliciting pitiful laughter from you and Cee.

Now, your eyes can’t find the sad bundle of warmth that is his sleeping figure. He is a restless sleeper, and every time he made a noise that was more than a good-natured hum or a soft swish of rearranging his blankets, you would wake and turn to make sure that he was okay. You would do the same for Cee, but she was a fantastic sleeper. Not too deep, not too light, and never made a peep. You turn back around, giving up on trying to spot Ezra in the dark, when you hear another grunt.

This one is louder than the last.

You turn back around yet again, your own blanket falling off of your chest and into your lap. Eyebrows furrowing together and eyes squinting, your pupils strain themselves to find any shred of light to let you see. The noises increase in abundance and volume. Ezra’s sleeping fit has transformed from a halfhearted rustling to an aggravated clamor in less than a minute. Your eyes stay on the dark patch of space where you know his “bed” is situated while Cee arises from her sleep. Her chair lets out the slightest creak as she follows your gaze and attempts herself to see what all of the commotion is about. She asks you, “Is he okay?” Ezra answers her with an irritated growl through his teeth. You say to her, “I don’t know, I can’t see him, should we-”

Your suggestion of waking him up is cut short as two hands wrap around your throat. The hands twist your head to face forward, and you’re greeted with Ezra’s sweat-slicken face. Instinctively, you grasp at his forearms in an effort to ease the constriction of your neck.

Cee screams, “Ezra, let go of her!” 

He defies her command and puts one of his knees in between yours on the seat of the pilot’s chair and leans closer to you. The brown eyes that you had grown to love now bore into yours with unwavering menace as the pads of his fingers press harder into the sides of your neck. His palms are flush with your larynx, threatening to crush it. You want to let out sobs of heartbreak, but are unable to. He’s restricted your actions to only being able to watch him attempt to strangle you. Your fingers aren’t able to get a grip on his limbs due to his angry sweat and your panicked claminess. Your mouth hangs open as his is shut tight, his jaw muscles stuttering with intense rage. He starts to growl through his teeth again, but a flash of light turns it into a howl.

His entire body falls back, his hands losing their purchase on your neck. You suck in a harsh breath and lean forward as Cee grabs your hand and pulls you out of the pilot’s chair. In her other hand she grips a Boscelot Frontiersman: the source of the light that had extracted Ezra’s shriek and drilled its way into his thigh. He sat on the floor in front of your chair and laced his hands just above his injury, throwing his head back and wincing. 

Cee puts some feet in between the two of you and guides you across the floor to the other side of the impossibly small pod. Hoarse coughs begin to rise from your surprised larynx, accompanied by trembling of your entire body. Cee, still holding you by your arm with one hand and the Thrower in the other, yells your thoughts at Ezra, “What the fuck was that for?!” She flicks the lights on, allowing everyone to see each other’s face for the first time all night. 

Ezra stares at the two of you in disbelief. Both brunette and blonde strands of hair are stuck to his forehead with sweat, eyes depressed from the subsiding adrenaline, his whole body drenched in distressed perspiration. You and him lock eyes, even through your flailing about as you continue to choke on air and delicately place your own hands over where his just had you in a vice grip. He knows what he’s done as soon as he sees you. He begins to cry and opens his mouth to start an apology that can never be adequate, but Cee hurls a field kit at his head. It hits him and he takes the blow without complaint. His devastated eyes keep to your bloodshot ones as he opens up the kit and starts to treat his justified wound. Cee stares at him with aggravation, and so do you, but her expression is void of confusion. 

You are confused as all hell. What could have possibly made him do that? He seemed to be having a nightmare, but that didn’t give him the excuse to nearly strangle you to death. 

Your coughs and stress start to dwindle as all of you sit there, not saying a word, the only other noise in the room being Ezra opening and closing medical supplies. He squirts a sanitizing solution over his wound, hissing, and then he takes out a Patch Gun. This sets your heart racing. The strangling was unpredicted and almost successful, would he get up once he was healed enough and try to do it again? You push yourself back against the wall and keep your widening eyes on him as he sprays the medicated foam into the hole the Thrower had burned through his trousers. He squeezes his eyes shut, winces intensely, and then fails to keep a painful wail inside his chest. You’ve seen him treat himself before, and usually his next step is to throw more than the recommended amount of pain relievers into his mouth and chew on the tablets, redirecting the pain from his injury to his mouth. He doesn’t do that this time.

Instead he throws the used Patch Gun to the side, closes the field kit and pushes it Cee’s way. He breathes your name out of his mouth, causing you to retreat further into the wall. You bring your legs to your chest and wrap your hands around the back of your neck, resting your elbows on your quaking kneecaps. Burrowing your face into the cavity you’ve created, you start bawling. Pain sears your throat, and is only intensified by your sobs, but you can’t help it. You’re absolutely terrified. Ezra says your name again, genuine with care, in an effort to get you to look at him. You shake your head once and continue to gasp into yourself. Cee startles you by touching your shoulder, and she quells your worries, “He won’t do it again.” 

Her five simple words plant a seedling of peace in your heart, but it is nowhere near close to blooming. You don’t look up as she gets up and goes over to your pilot chair and grabs your blankets. Her footsteps return to you quickly, and within moments her warm, calm hands are draping the fabric over your shoulders. She rests her chin on your shoulder, moving with your heaves. A softening tone takes over her beautiful voice as she murmurs “It’s okay”s, “I’m here”s and “You’re safe”s into your blankets. Before you know it, your body succumbs to the overwhelming desire to heal mentally, emotionally and physically with sleep. Your trust in Ezra may be broken right now, but you know that Cee will watch over you. Despite her lack of size and experience compared to Ezra, you know she has the upper hand on him intellectually. He may be full of wondrous prose, a never-ending vocabulary and sharp wit, but Cee has had him in the palm of her hand ever since they met. You can sleep knowing that she can protect you and herself, if need be.

You peek out underneath your arm to qualify to yourself that Ezra is in no shape to attack again. 

He sits where he landed when he fell, slouching with exhaustion. His eyes sparkle with tears of regret, his eyebrows quirked in a way that reads “There aren’t enough ways to apologize, but I’ll try every one until you forgive me.” You close your eyes, lay your head against the wall and beg the Sandman to bring you all a night of peace as you rest until the Sun comes up. 

The pale blue morning light penetrates your eyelids and alerts your brain that it is time to get up. You awake to find Cee and Ezra sound asleep, her in her pilot’s chair and him in his “bed”. You are still huddled up against the wall, opposite to Ezra, and look upon him with a wary gaze. The fear he inserted into you last night makes your nerves feel like static, but at the same time you can’t help but be relaxed by his presence. It’s obvious he didn’t cause any more damage during rest of the night, so maybe his eyebrows were telling the truth: that he is sorry.

The muted sunshine washes his complexion out and dulls the warmth that his chestnut locks hold. It makes the blonde patch in his hair and the arc scar on his cheek glisten cerulean. His expression is relaxed, eyelids fidgeting under the controls of REM sleep. 

The sound of Cee’s alarm clock distracts you, and moments later her hand reaches out and pushes the ‘stop’ button. Awakening limbs appear above the back of her chair, accompanied by a yawn. Your eyes dart to Ezra. He’s still asleep. She turns to you first and smiles, “Are you alright?” You nod once, return her smile, and you both turn to the slumbering man. She says, folding her blanket, “He’s fine. Calmed down after you fell asleep. He said he had a nightmare that you had turned against us. He said he wants to apologize but understands if you don’t want to speak to him.” You sigh through your nose, glancing over at him, “That’s okay. I think I would like some time away from him though. Just to process things, y’know?” Cee turns to face you, “That’s what I figured. I told him that.” You look at her and nod once. 

She gets up and stretches again, folded blanket still in hand. She puts it on her seat and looks up at you excitedly, “Want to come look for aurelac with me today?” 

“Definitely.”

Her face lights up with a wide smile and you mirror her reaction. Getting up and dropping your blankets to the floor, you go over to the compartment in the wall that holds your equipment. You take out what you’ll need - suit, helmet, air filter and a few Slurry Packs - and close the latch. The door slams shut harder than you intended, the resulting crash jolting Ezra awake.

A shy, apologetic smile graces his face as he meets your eyes, and you return the expression. You were still tightly wound, but were ready to start dispelling the fear, and that began by being cordial with him. His smile fades when his eyes lower to your hands and take in what you are holding. He gets up off the floor and inquires, “What do you have all that for?” His expression is neutral, but you worry that you will anger him by telling him what your plans are.

He had made it very clear since you joined him and Cee that he did not want you to prospect. He had told you that it was too dangerous of a task in itself, let alone the implications that came along with it: bartering, lying, gambling, stealing, killing. He didn’t want you or Cee to be subjected to any any of the horrors that accompanied prospecting, but Cee had been stubborn about her desires and had proven her abilities. She was great at prospecting, possessing an attention to tedium and an unwavering sense of calmness while performing the task. For a man who seeps with wisdom, Ezra wasn’t all that good of a prospector. He had the tendency to lose patience and cripple under pressure, which sometimes led to compromised digs. 

“I’m going to look for aurelac deposits with Cee.” You nudge your head in her direction and she smiles at Ezra. He waves his hand dismissively, “That’s all fine and dandy,” now pointing a lazy yet warning finger at you, “But don’t you dare let prospecting dance upon those beautiful brain waves of yours.” His comment irritated you. You had never shown any signs of true disobedience to his wishes, besides the casual sigh of boredom or the bratty roll of your eyes. The words also set your heart aflutter. As you try to hide your blush and bury your annoyance, Cee says to him, “We don’t be doing any prospecting if we can’t find any aurelac.” His head tilts in agreement. He pads over to you and gingerly puts a hand on your shoulder. He had sensed your irritation and repeats his mantra of why he doesn’t want you prospecting, “I just don’t want you to get hurt.” 

Your anger became fiery again. Shoulder jerking to flick his hand off, you jab at him, “Because I’m safe in the confines of the pod?”

He points a finger at you again, this time accusatory, “That was purely an accident. Do not take it as anything but.” 

Cee commands, “Both of you, stop, now. I’m not dealing with this all day. It was an accident. An inexcusable one, but an accident.” 

Your and Ezra’s eyebrows had shifted to take on the same irate slope, however you both decide to just let it drop. You visibly signal your concession by dropping your shoulders and Ezra reflects you. He spins on his heels to open his own equipment hatch, and you turn to the wall yours is on. You all face the walls and change into your suits, a ritual of trust and time efficiency you decided on when the three of you agreed to work as a group. 

Once dressed, you exit the pod, Ezra being first and Cee being last, and embark on your daily journey. The Sun had retreated behind some dark grey clouds. The sky was a royal blue, the ground was greige and the dark foliage that surround you drips with dew. You were stationed on the Blue Moon, an orbiting moon in the Bakhroma System. This place wasn’t highly traveled like its permanent sister (the Green Moon), due to the popular aftermath of the Aurelac Rush. Although Cee and Ezra had been there and left, many people in the galaxy still went to try and scoop up some valuable remains. Unlike The Green, The Blue wasn’t known for its abundant aurelac deposits, which is precisely why your partners chose to come here. 

Their original plan was to travel to The Blue with just themselves, but while on a stop to Puggart Bench you had entranced Ezra while Cee tried to scope out her old friends and catch up with them before she set off on another mission. Demonstrating your eagerness to explore the galaxy and your expansive knowledge of it, Ezra decided to add you to his partnership. It didn’t hurt that you also tried to express your attraction to him, complimenting the rugged floater on his impressive vocabulary. He had complimented you on your willingness to listen to his ramblings, and it had been love ever since. Neither of you had come out directly and said “I love you”, and you hadn’t partaken in any physical affection, but your yearning for each other could not be more understood. His adoration for you only deepened when he saw how you interacted with Cee. Being closer to her generation than Ezra’s, you were able to connect with her like contemporaries. However, you were far enough away from her age group to the point where Ezra couldn’t act as a father figure to you. This duality made you irresistible to him.

Back to the present, you gaze at the back of his helmet intently, waiting to see what his plan of action for the day is. The Green requires visitors to wear air-tight suits and breathe through air filtration systems at all times because of harmful spores that float in the atmosphere. The Blue’s spores are far less harmful, and helmets can be taken off for 45 minute intervals, but the three of you only took them off when the confinement of the helmets became a little too much. The glass window of Ezra’s helmet swivels to you and he asks, “Split up, hourly check-ins, reconvene for lunch?” 

As you’re thinking of your answer, you notice his eyes dart repeatedly up and down your body. You can tell by the way his mouth is slightly parted that he isn’t assessing your body language to predict your response. He’s thinking about all of the ways he would devour you for apology’s sake. 

You look to Cee in the middle of your answer, “Sure. I’ll go with Cee today.” She smiles at you and turns to him. His mouth closes and he looks down to fiddle with his radio with thick-gloved fingers, “I’ll be on channel one.” Cee says, “Okay,” and beckons you to follow her as she sets off on a worn path. You and Ezra look at each other one more time before you turn in opposite directions and begin your divergent treks.

Catching up to Cee by jogging, your steps slow to match her pace once you are by her side. There’s silence between the two of you for a little while as you weave your way through trees of varying heights, eyes keeping to the ground to spot humps in the dirt. Humps gave away the location of aurelac deposits. A couple of slips were shared between the two of you as you climbed over hills and shuffled through valleys, the forest floor littered with puddles. What The Green has in vegetation, The Blue has in water. There were multiple lakes, some touting depths that are only achievable by advanced marine technology. Rainstorms are common, but they never grow to something like a hurricane. Everything was doused in a blue hue, whether it was the air, the water or the plants. The spores in the air resembled stagnant raindrops, peculiar in the way that they seemed to stay in their place in the atmosphere. 

Cee broke the silence, “So, are you okay?” You know exactly what she is referring to and answer, “Yeah. Still a bit shaken up and confused, but other than that I guess I’m fine. I can feel bruises where his hands were.” She turns around to look at you and you lift your chin for her to see. She grimaces and says, “Yeah, you can see where each finger was and everything.” You look down, feeling disappointed that the event even happened. You ask her, “So he had a nightmare about me?” You watch the back of her helmet as she nods, “Yep. He just said that he thought you were going to endanger the three of us. He didn’t say in what way, really, just that you were a threat.” You take a moment to process the information and then fire off another question, “So, I have nightmares too, but I don’t act on them in real life. So why did he do what he did? Is there, like, an underlying feeling of distrust that he has for me, or...?” She started shaking her head halfway through your last sentence, “No, no, not at all. It’s just that The Green was so traumatic that I can understand just how vivid nightmares about it can be. And even though I don’t know much about what he went through before I met him on The Green, I’m sure prospecting was just as dangerous as it is now. I wouldn’t be surprised if at one point, or at a million points, someone that he trusted backstabbed him. But it’s nothing personal against you at all.” You nod and take in her words, trying to reassure yourself that you can trust him, even though he had done everything he could to prove you otherwise the night prior.

Cee stops and turns to you, chuckling, “If anything-”

A short sound on your radios cuts her off, and Ezra’s voice comes through the speakers, “How are you little birds coming along?” 

Cee answers, “Fine. No deposits yet. What about you?” She grins at you, not forgetting to finish her comment as soon as he leaves the two of you alone. 

“Nothing. I’ll be shocked if we stumble across any hint of a deposit today. Like every day. Over and out.” 

You look at her, eager to hear what she has to say. This only widens her smile, and she rolls her eyes as she begins, “Like I was saying.” You both laugh as she continues, “If anything, you’re the best thing that’s happened to him. I’ve never seen his eyes light up so much at anything like they do when he looks at you.” You blush and look down at your feet shyly. She gives you a playful shove and knocks you out of your butterfly-ridden trance. Her tone changes serious as she sighs, her pitch dropping a little bit lower than normal, “You really don’t have to worry about him hurting you or me. He’s just fucked up from our time on The Green. I am too, but I experienced it in a slightly different way, and deal with it differently too. I mean, I lost my father, but he killed two other people. It got us out of there, but that’s probably going to haunt him for the rest of his life. And since it was recent, he’s still trying to figure out how to handle the whole thing. I’m not making any excuses for him, because he didn’t have any reason to attack you, regardless of any dream, but he seriously wouldn’t do that under any other circumstances.” She puts an assuring hand on your shoulder and smiles. You smile back and nod once in understanding, saying, “I believe you.” She pats your back, and you both turn to continue on your walk. A few moments pass, and she lets out another laugh. You teasingly ask her with a smile on your face, “What is it now?” 

“I mean, it’s obvious that Ezra’s been through some shit, because the guy’s fucking weird as hell.” Your helmets are filled with your cackling as thoughts of the strange man play out in your head. Cee jokes, “I mean, little bird? His confusing speech pattern in general? Someone who talks in crosswords is either an ancient person who is trying to be clever in their last days because that’s the only form of strength they have left or just some asshole who finds enjoyment in verbally tricking people.” Another few moments of giggling pass before she ends with, “And what’s with the drawl?” She turns to you, the injuries in your throat burning from laughing so hard, “Have you ever heard someone else, in the entire Bakhroma System, talk like that?” You shake your head while wheezing and she says, “I haven’t either. So how did that weirdo even get here?” 

The surrounding forests may be quiet, but the inside of your suits are filled with the joyful laughter of two friends who continue on their merry way to find some aurelac.

What yesterday lacked in aurelac, it made up for in emotional gains. You had spent the rest of the day with Cee, strengthening your tender bond, exploring the terrain that The Blue had to offer. Ezra kept to his promise and checked in on you two hourly, making sure that you hadn’t run into any other travelers or went too far off the grid. Your group hadn’t crossed paths with any other citizens of the galaxy since you landed, which didn’t surprise or disappoint any of you; the three of you needed some peacetime for regrouping. 

You start today by scanning the pod’s dashboard of lights to make sure nothing is out of order. Because of his contempt to the idea of you prospecting, Ezra had assigned you to be the pod’s programmer. Pods were cheap to rent, so they were justifiably subject to malfunctions. Given that Cee and Ezra were tasked with mapping out The Blue and harvesting aurelac, you obliged to take the responsibility of operating the astronomical vehicle. The other job you had been given was keeper of the harvested aurelac. Once in its containers, you were to check on the gems every day and make sure that none had cracked during transport. The problem is that you haven’t had any luck at finding such valuables. It has been documented that The Blue does contain aurelac, but that it is extremely difficult to find. However, the average gem on The Blue is thrice the size of that which The Green holds. So the size and abundance differences are a lawful tradeoff. 

While you’re analyzing a digital screen on the dashboard, an expressive yawn escapes a man’s mouth. You twist to see Ezra stretching his arm out, eyes and nose scrunched in delight at the wringing out of his muscles. A smile graces your face as you take in his exaggerated display of awakening, and he mirrors your smile when he opens his eyes. His arm relaxes at his side, and a raspy morning voice greets you, “Hi.” You smirk at his unadorned statement and say back, “Hi.” He holds your gaze for a moment before turning to pick his mechanical arm up off the floor next to him. After losing his arm on The Green, his prospecting abilities fell drastically. He had to take out a loan to pay for the artificial limb, but it would restore his talents, so it was a fair deal. That’s why the three of you had gone on this mission, rather than building your friendship on Puggart Bench: to harvest aurelac to repay the loan.

Cee grabs both you and Ezra’s attention as she wakes with a start. Getting up and out of her pilot’s chair, she merrily folds her blankets and marches over to her equipment hatch. You and Ezra share a look of bewilderment, and he questions, “Good morning?” She flips around to you both, forgetting that you were in the pod with her. She cheers, “Good morning!” Reading the two confused expressions that watch her, she explains, “I want to go and look at this area that we missed yesterday. It has a lot of hills, so maybe that’s an indicator of more deposits. I was going to look at it yesterday, but then we came together for lunch, and I completely forgot about it until now.” Noting that she is the only one in the pod that is anywhere near awake, she asks both you and Ezra, “Is it okay if I go by myself?”

Memories of the last 36 hours flicker in your head, discomforting your nerves. It’s not that you don’t trust Ezra, but you don’t trust Ezra. The outburst that he had the other night frightened the shit out of you, and you’ve been wary to interact with him at all, let alone without Cee present to diffuse the situation if it got too tense. The fear he had shoved upon you was still fresh, but the excitement in Cee’s face and your tiresome brain convinced you that it would be okay. Maybe during this time alone you could patch things up with him. Him and Cee had given you a general rundown of what had happened on The Green when you first met, but you could prod Ezra about the details. Hopefully you could uncover some explanations to his night terrors. 

You look over at him to gauge his reaction to her proposition, and he’s staring at you with puppy-dog eyes. His mouth is turned up in a soft smile, and you can’t help but grin at the way his hair is still unruly from his sleep. Suddenly you feel a pleasant heat between your legs, and you can’t tell if it’s just your body waking up or the overwhelming desire to pepper a million kisses over the sleepy man’s face. Refusing to admit to yourself that the latter is the true culprit of your wetness, you shake your head slightly to rock you out of your trance and say to Cee, “Yeah, that would be fine.” Ezra’s smile at you widens before he turns to Cee and inputs, “I concur. Like always, just be sure to watch your surroundings carefully. You’ll find us here when you return.” She nods once and turns to her equipment hatch, signaling you and Ezra to turn to yours as well to give her some privacy as she changes. Once changed, she closes her hatch, puts her helmet on and departs, “I’ll be on channel one. See you guys later!” You and Ezra both give halfhearted waves, still too tired to formulate any meaningful words. The door to the pod closes behind her, and you are alone with Ezra. 

The anticipation of being alone with him made you more anxious than how you feel now, letting your eyes fall to the man still on the floor. He’s already looking up at you, the lazy smile still pulling at his cheeks. The desire to invite yourself into his bed, wrap yourself in his blankets and limbs in order to match the warmth that is flooding your genitals, and doze off into a lustful nap tries to take over your mind. You fight it with everything you have and make your way over to your pilot’s chair. Positioning yourself so that you’re facing Ezra, he simply asks you, “Hungry?” You nod your head and he reaches behind himself. His hand reappears with a Bits Bar, tossing it to you. The only sounds that fill the pod are the crinkling of the wrappers and your respective chewing. Although you’re both preoccupied with eating, Ezra’s silence is deafening. He tended to drop his confusing lingo when talking to you, since he wasn’t trying to trick you. He hadn’t had the courage to reveal his true feelings to you yet, which will be so poetic and heartfelt it will make you sick to your stomach, so he stuck to simple statements. He wanted you to note the difference between his conversations with you and other people, so he made it a very clear point to forgo his prose and expansive vocabulary. He wanted you to note that he revealed his truest sentiments to you and tried his best to hide them from others. 

The peaceful nature of the morning encouraged you to bring up an irritating topic with him, “I only want to prospect because I want to help you guys.” He tries to keep his eyes on his food, knowing that looking into your eyes will ignite his possessive and protective nature, “I know that. And it doesn’t matter how many motives you come up with, birdie, there will never be a time when you’re in my care that you will prospect. That’s the extent that I will let this conversation fester to.” His dismissive demeanor infuriates you. You fire back at him, trying not to let your tension leak into your voice, “I’m not Cee. You are not my parent or my guardian, you’re my partner. So there’s no social expectation that I have to submit to your desires.” His irritation grows, entertaining his fingers by folding the wrapper, “That is technically true. But a good partner will never put their partner at risk. And I have deemed it risky for you to prospect.” His retaliation sets you off. You didn’t want this to turn into an argument, but you also don’t want to back down from this. Your eyebrows crease together in frustration, your arms cross and your mouth sets itself in a frown. 

He looks up from his distraction and becomes infuriated by your look. Now he’s pissed. He begins a verbal knife fight, “Maybe if you had experienced what it’s like to have a shitty partner, you would appreciate my efforts to protect you.”

“I’m not ungrateful.”

“In a way, you are. You abandoned everything you had on Puggart Bench once you met me and Cee. You had friends, a nice family, a stable living situation, a good education. Don’t blame me for a position that you put yourself in.”

“First of all, that’s how it looked to you. Second, a good education in prospecting! Maybe if you weren’t staring at my ass every second of every day, you would have asked me what I was studying. I can probably prospect better than you can.”

“I’d find pure, mocking enjoyment in seeing you try to harvest. I would bet my life that I can prospect better than you can, even with my impediment!” He motions to his mechanical arm.

“You wouldn’t have the impediment if you weren’t so fucking devious! And don’t even get me started on the arrogance, or the fucking pretentiousness!”

Your overheated exchange comes to a halt when the pod’s door opens. Cee climbs in, and you and Ezra try to mask your fury for each other as much as you can. She acknowledges the two of you and says, “Just need an air filter.” The atmosphere turns awkward as you watch her get what she needs out of her hatch. She’s leaving as soon as she came in, and you hold up a parting hand and say, “Be safe. Have fun.” She tilts her chin at you, and Ezra chimes in, “Be safe, Sparrow.” She exits, disappearing into The Blue.

Her interruption quelled the fire that burned between you and Ezra, subsequently drowning you in a wave of guilt over your words. Ezra’s looking down at his hands, shadows keeping his expression unreadable. You uncross your arms in defeat as you feel tears gather on your bottom eyelids. Opening your mouth to apologize, Ezra puts his hand up and directs, “Don’t apologize.” You protest, “But-” He cuts you off, “Don’t. Apologize.” You audibly sigh and sit back in your chair, not facing him anymore. You wish you could just kiss him. It would shut the both of you up and finally bring your shared, passionate feelings to the surface. Instead you opt to stare at the program board in front of you. How sexy. Such allure. You roll your eyes at your own naivety. 

Both of you sit and replay all of the moments that led you to the peak that you sit atop, questioning how to safely start the descent. You decide to break the silence with a neutral topic, “Why do you call her Sparrow?” Staying turned away from each other, Ezra answers, “Well, now that I have two little birds in my life, I have to distinguish them.” Your heart glows at his comment, but it’s not enough to wipe the somber expression off of your face. 

“Why Sparrow though?”

“She’s adaptable. She’s been able to keep a sane mind while traveling through Puggart Bench, The Green, The Ephrate, The Blue. The presence of others doesn’t deter her from her work, yet she’s not aloof to their existence.”

His musings entertain you. Your anger begins to become a thing of the past as you get off of your chair and sit down on the floor a few feet away from him. Being on a literal level playing field only increases your ease. 

“What are you?”

He smirks, “A magpie.”

“I should’ve known.”

You share a bit of laughter before he explains, “I’m intelligent in trickery. I take pride in my illusions, but that’s not all I possess. Once I find my mate, I become protective of them, sometimes to the point of absurdity. A magpie male and female share the brunt of building a nest; as all great relationships should split the responsibility of reconciliation equally.” Regarding his last sentence, he raises one eyebrow at you. You stretch your legs out so that the soles of your shoes touch his.

“Magpies mate for life.”

You break your eye contact. You have grown shy from his pointed allusions, so you playfully fiddle his feet with yours. A moment passes before he says, “You’re a snow goose.” Confused, you look up at him, “A snow goose?” He nods enthusiastically, “Yes, a snow goose.” You shake your head, giggling, “I’ve never heard of those.” He leans forward with shock, “Really?” “Yep.” He shakes his head once and stands up to open his equipment hatch above you. He pulls out a book and sits back down, this time beside you. All About Birds. You assume the birds are alphabetized as you watch him flip the book open about 4/5 of the way through, and he presents you with a page: “Snow Goose”. Amused by the fact that he wasn’t lying, you let out a laugh. He laughs with you, “My Goose needs to brush up on her avian animal knowledge.” A minute has to pass before the cackling subsides. Then he paraphrases, “Snow geese are another adaptable bird, preferring to travel in packs. They roost mainly in bodies of water: marshes, ponds, the like. Ringing true to stereotypes of the general breed, they are very territorial of their property once they claim what is theirs. Snow geese have a brilliant white coat, which I equate to your magnificent aura. They are similar to magpies in that they mate for life.”

You look up from the book and are greeted with chocolate eyes glazed in infatuation. Thighs and arms pressed together, you turn to rest your chin on Ezra’s shoulder. Flickering eyes go back and forth between his eyes and his lips, signaling to him that if he wanted to kiss you, you wouldn’t object. He inserts, “Snow geese also don’t lack in paying homage to their reputation of being loud bitches.” You gasp and lay a swat on his chest as he chuckles away at his poking. After he has had his fill of laughing, you return to your resting place on his shoulder and let out a sigh. 

A few quiet moments go by before you look up at him and admire the handsome, irritating, brave, stubborn, loving man who are you enamored with. You reach your hand up and comb your fingers through his hair once, twice. He leans into your hand as you continue to brush his locks, “Ezra?” He hums, eyes closing rapidly from the lulling pleasure you’re giving him, “Mm-hm?” You whisper, “I’m sorry.” A stark contrast from earlier, he allows your apology. He opens his eyes and they’re dripping with honest remorse and helpless romance, “I’m sorry too.”

Yesterday didn’t amount to what you had originally planned to accomplish, but it was still a good day. Despite all of the insult hurling and badmouthing, you and Ezra ended the day on a nice note. Getting to the bottom of his nightmares could wait for another time. You both had needed a day of fun together to put aside your hostilities before you embarked on discussing trauma. Cee had returned without a problem, hands void of aurelac but filled with notes of The Blue’s landscape. 

You wake up, startled, All About Birds slipping off of your lap and onto the floor. You had sliced it out of Ezra’s dormant fingers after he had fallen asleep, your curiosity piqued from his earlier paraphrasing. Cee’s awake and bustling about in the pod, trying to find something, anything, to eat that isn’t a Bits Bar or a Slurry Pack. As you lean over to pick the book up from the floor, you catch Ezra’s eyes on you. 

He’s standing at his equipment hatch, doing some much needed cleaning up. He’s a traveler who believes in organized chaos, that putting things in their “right” place takes up too much valuable time. 

You smile up at him shyly and as you sit back upright with the book in your hands he says, “Did you find any specimens that better suit us?” You shake your head, “No, you were pretty damn spot on with your choices.” He flashes a smug grin, one that paints your face pink with amusement. Cee plops down in her chair with a huff of defeat, unwrapping a Bits Bar. Ezra hears her and says, “(Y/N) and I will take today’s assignment, Cee. You’ve warranted yourself a break after your ingenious expeditioning yesterday.” She says, “Good, because my legs feel like jelly.” The three of you laugh and you get up and rush to your equipment hatch. With your and Ezra’s friendship on its way to restoration, you were excited to find what the day would hold. The two of you get dressed in a flash, and you tell Cee before putting on your helmet, “We’ll be on channel one, like always.” She sticks a thumb up from behind her chair, and with that you and Ezra are on your way out of the pod.

The rays of the Sun today are periwinkle, streaming through small gaps in the overhanging vegetation. The air is tinted royal blue, the trees shimmer with teal sparkles, the soil a shade of navy. You inhale deeply as if you can smell the fresh air through your air filter, imagining a place where you could be with your gang without all of this clumsy equipment, without giving up the majesty that this landscape has. 

Ezra snaps you out of your daydream, “Where to today, Snow Goose?” 

You pull out a map from a pocket on your back and scan it, looking for any uncharted territory. “Let’s go west today. There’s a big chunk of land that we haven’t documented yet.” 

He nods and begins your quest by turning to the left and walking. You follow him, folding the map and keeping it in your hands. Little conversation is shared between the two of you for the first bit of the journey and the silences aren’t awkward. The majority of your time is spent looking up, admiring the scenery as the Sun comes up and illuminates more of the land. Different hues of blue are unearthed as light reaches deeper crevices: the underside of leaves show turquoise veins, the inside of a hollowed tree trunk boasts a purplish-blue hybrid. The puddles on the ground vary in shape, size, depth and color, and are scattered about the ground in an oddly methodical fashion. 

After a while of marveling at the sights, you regret getting dressed so quickly. You hadn’t brushed your hair properly, and the braid you had put it in was loose. Rubbing against your helmet with all of your head turning, the braid had fallen almost completely out of his shape and it was threatening to combine with your sweat to mold to your face. You instinctively put your hands to your helmet to try to push it out of your way, but you are met with glass resistance. Ezra, peeking over his broad shoulder to make sure he hadn’t lost you, notices your frustration, “Let me help you with that.” You furrow your eyebrows at him and wave off his help, “No, it’s okay. I’ll deal with it.” He shook his head quickly and spins on his heels, looking around and spots two conveniently placed tree stumps, one behind the other, that will accommodate te his fantasy. He gestures to them, “Have a seat, Goose.” 

You stand there, not wanting to indulge in the dream. This was just as much of a dream for you as it is for Ezra. He watched you, everyday before you went out of the pod, braid your hair and willed that one day it would be his hands that would twist your smooth locks. And everyday you braided your hair, you would envision him standing behind you, concentrating hard on his handiwork, his hot breath cascading down the back of your neck, his knuckles grazing your back. Ezra starts walking over to the stumps and motions for you to follow. 

You obey his command and sit down on the seat in front of his, scooting back so that he doesn’t have to reach very far to touch you. A depressing gasp fills the air as you detach your helmet and set it in your lap. Ezra’s gloves appear over your shoulder, “Can you hold these for me?” You were already turned on enough by the thought of him braiding your hair, now he would be braiding your hair with naked fingers and you got to hold the battered material that guarded those impossibly large hands almost everyday? Yeah, this is an illusion. You wait to wake up from your slumber. but are reminded that this situation is very real when Ezra’s fingers reach around your head to brush the sweaty hairs out of your face. His touch is gentle, unlike from the incident a few days ago. Now that you aren’t fighting for your life, you can take in the small, romantic details that you didn’t notice before. The pads of his fingers are rough but not scratchy. You see his fingernails, neatly trimmed and free from any sort of grime. How he pulls off that sorcery while being a prospector, regardless of the gloves, you will never know. 

You tense as his fingers glide over your bruised neck, collecting your hair and bringing it all to your back. He holds your hair in one hand while the other stutters on a bruise. He senses your unease and strangles out, “I’m sorry.” You grip his gloves a little tighter, trying to fight your tears from spilling, and shake your head slightly, “It’s okay.” You’re ready to move past it. It’s important to remember that it happened, but you’re ready to rebuild your relationship. Like he jabbed at you the other day, leaving Puggart Bench had been tough for you. You worry that your leaving left behind permanent scars that would impact the relationships you had there. Ezra and Cee feel like the only friendships that you can count on to last. You need them. 

Knocking you out of your despair, Ezra pulls your hair to one of your shoulders and rests his chin on the other. He turns his head so that his breath spills across your bare neck. He runs a finger lightly across a bruise and asks, mouth millimeters away from your skin, “May I?” You nod, and he plants an imperceptibly light kiss on your neck. You let a tear dribble down your cheek, wiping it away as quickly as it ran. 

A thought enters your mind: my god, his lips are soft as fuck. The combination of the softness with the tickling of his patchy facial hair was heavenly, if not orgasmic. You giggle at your own thoughts* (*thots), intriguing Ezra, “What is it?” You decide to be transparent, “Nothing, it’s just that your mouth is soft as fuck.” A hearty laugh erupts from his chest, “Now I don’t want to put an end to your seductive observations, Goose, but I want this to be an innocent affair.” You smile and sit up straight, letting him know that you are willing to drop the flirtation. For now.

His fingers separate your hair into three sections and he says, referencing the other day, “As a treaty to our battles, I would like to clarify that I don’t think you’re ungrateful.” A soft smile graces your face and you input your own treatise, “And I don’t think you’re arrogant or fucking pretentious. You are a little devious though.” 

He chuckles, “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be the scoundrel that I am, now would I?”

You shake your head no. No, he wouldn’t be the scoundrel that you are not so secretively in love with. As you sit there, enjoying the limited amount of time you are allowed with your helmet off, the details of your dreams prove to be true: you can feel Ezra’s concentrated breath warm the nape of your neck, his knuckles tap your suit when he twists your hair a certain way. You yearn for the day that you will be able to touch each other, feel each other’s true weight and texture, without the suits getting in the way.

“So, if you’re so good at prospecting, why don’t you tell me how you do it?” 

His tone is playful and your situation could not be more peaceful, so you decide to indulge him, “Well, first you have to find a deposit, which is usually indicated by a lump in the ground.”

He verifies your first step, “Uh-huh...?”

“Then you want to pour a solution into the deposit’s hole. You don’t want to pour too much though, or else it could cause an explosion.”

Ezra’s hands stop. You turn and ask him, “Is everything okay?” He nods, his eyes first staring off into the landscape and then refocusing once they land on you. He continues to involuntarily nod as he says, “That’s what permitted Cee and I to escape The Green. She threw an entire pint of solution into a deposit. Nearly blew the entire place to bits.” 

You feel rude when you realize that your mouth is hanging open in shock. You close your mouth and words about his time on The Green tumble out of his, “I am devious, indeed. But there were people--beings--there that would make me look like an angel. I take responsibility for killing Cee’s father because he tried to hijack my stash. A man’s work is no petty thing, Goose. I ended up having to kill two others there, in the end. I overestimated our luck after the first one, thinking that it would’ve been a simple escape. I killed the other mercilessly. You see now, Goose, the dangers that I encountered on The Green alone. I would never be able to forgive myself if I allowed you into harm’s way, and you became a tragedy.” 

You reach a hand out and cup his face, which he leans into. He still holds onto your hair, your braid halfway done, and you say, “I was ungrateful, and I’m sorry for that.” He shakes his head once, taking your hand from his face and kissing your palm, “Now you see why I wanted to strangle you in my nightmare. I dreamt that you were someone else, some other thing, that was threatening to drag our trio back to that wretched land.” You both breathe out a shaky laugh, trying to lighten the mood. Even though it was nervous, you are glad that the both of you are taking some steps in the right direction. 

He clears his throat and sits up straight, “Now, after you dodge an eruption, what is the next step of prospecting?” 

You face ahead and let him continue your braid as you speak, “Next you want to remove the husk from the deposit, and cut the cord that connects the two. Then you want to remove the inner membrane from the husk.” 

He quizzes you, “And what’s inside the inner membrane?”

“The aurelac gem.”

“Correct. Continue.” 

“Then you want to cut out any blisters, but if you cut too carelessly you could puncture it, which will release acid. If that happens then the gem ceases to be worth anything.” 

“That’s where my expertise usually falters.” 

“Finally you want to remove the gem from the inner membrane, douse it in fazer solution, and you have your stone.” 

He tests you again, “What is the purpose of the fazer solution?”

“To stabilize the gem and increase its clarity. Higher clarity grants higher payout.”

He pats your shoulder twice and ties your hair off with the hair tie you used for your loose braid, “Fantastic job, Goose. Couldn’t have explained it better myself.” He stands, walks around your stumps and holds a hand out to you. You take it, even though you were perfectly capable of getting up yourself. You got to hand him his gloves, and he stops you, “Wait a minute.” Both of his hands come to the sides of your face and push a few stray hairs behind your ears; the finishing touches to his masterpiece. You can tell he did a good job without having to look at it, since it didn't feel too loose or too tight, and the problem you had before was now solved. His tongue darts out and runs the edge of his bottom lip before he takes a step back, throwing his hands up, “Voila!” You giggle, eliciting a smile from Ezra wide enough to make the skin around his eyes crinkle in happiness. You hand him his gloves, which he puts on before you both secure your helmets back to your suits. 

Ezra checks in with Cee, “Everything alright, Sparrow?” 

A few seconds pass before she answers, “Yep, just listening to my music. Everything alright on your end?” 

“Affirmative. We’ll be staying outside for lunch. Over and out.” 

Ezra’s eyes gaze into yours for a brief moment before they move past your shoulder, eyebrows raised and mouth agape. You ask, “What?” before turning and following his stare. A patch of undisturbed soil, littered with lumps. In his rush by you, Ezra grabs your hand and pulls you along with him as you run to the potential aurelac deposits, laughing at his enthusiasm. He halts at the brink of the field, choosing which one he wants to dig up first. You suggest, “Why don’t we start from the outside and work our way in?” He nods, “That’s a great idea,” and drops to his knees. You stare at the mound in front of him as you sink down to the ground, pulling out your map. You mark where this field is located as he preps his harvesting tools. Once he’s prepared, he sighs and takes your hand, “Do you want to help me, Goose?” 

You nearly spring to your feet with excitement, “Would I ever!” 

He beams at your reaction and begins the process by clearing the dirt away from the mound to reveal the deposit. “How about for this first time, you just hand me the tools?” You nod, taking this as slowly as he wants to, “Whatever you’d like.” He grins as he cuts a hole in the deposit, knife already in hand. “Solution,” he requests. You hand him the bottle and he does the honor of pouring it over the deposit. A white steam emits from the hole, and he reaches in and grabs the husk. “Let me cut this cord, you can do the next one.” You agree and watch as he cuts it with his knife. He places the husk on a flat patch of land and requests his next tool, “Scalpel.” You hand him a Ralon Crusader Laser Scalpel and watch him work.

Laser scalpels are primarily used for precision work, like this step and the removal of blisters, while any generic knives will do the job when cutting the cord or opening up the deposit. 

You watch as he makes an incision in the husk, handing you back the tool once he’s done. He wrangles the inner membrane out of the husk and holds his hand out. You know that he wants the scalpel back, and you give it to him. He flashes you a smile for your readiness, but then hands you the scalpel back. You take it, confused, and he says, “I’d like you to cut the blisters off of this one.” 

Your pupils narrow and your muscles grow tense. You know the steps of prospecting backwards and forwards, but you had never carried out a lab experiment, let alone prospected aurelac in the wild. Ezra lays a gentle hand on your forearm, “I have eternal faith in you, Goose.” You move toward the membrane and turn the scalpel on. Ezra holds it steady for you as you go to remove the blister. There’s only one, which is a slight relief. You plunge the scalpel into the membrane, thinking that the skin would be thicker, and a hiss greets you. You pull back as the membrane deflates and an amber liquid seeps from it, the hissing never stopping. Your mortified eyes look up into Ezra’s and you immediately apologize, “I’m so sorry, Ezra, I thought that-” He raises a hand, “It is not a big deal in the slightest, Goose. I’ve never come across a prospector that didn’t puncture the membrane, or fail to mix the fazer solution correctly the first time.” He senses your lingering humiliation and grabs your shoulders, turning you even more towards himself, “Really, it’s fine.” You want to melt into his hands, crawl into his lap and just hide there until you feel better, but you know that you have to move on. 

He points to the mound behind you, “Let’s try that one.” You stay on the ground and move the tools with you, while Ezra stands and walks over before he squats. You hand him the knife, watch him repeat the process and hand him tools as he needs them: slice the deposit, squirt in the solution, remove the husk, sever the cord, open the husk, take the membrane out. He looks to you, “I want you to try again.” Turning the scalpel on, its vibrations feel more vigorous against your heightened nerves than they did last time. Ezra assumes his position of securing the slippery pod, and you begin cutting. Again only one blister, you circle the blemish with the blade. Once the circle is complete, Ezra reminds you, “It’s easiest to pull it off with your fingers.” You follow his directions, turning the instrument off and setting it to the side. You pull on sticky flesh, and the part that you cut comes off easily. Ezra sighs, “Incredible.” Sliding his fingers in between the membrane and the aurelac, he pulls the rock out and discards the pouch. He calls for the fazer solution, which you hand him and watch as he washes the gem with it. Another hissing sound can be heard, much quieter than the one that came when you punctured the membrane. He holds the aurelac up to the blue Sun, and both of you observe, amazed, at how the light shines through the gem. Aurelac is an amber-hued stone, sometimes with ripples in the color, encased in a foggy crystal. The blue light complements the orange shade of the gem exquisitely. 

Ezra turns to you, eyes bright with satisfaction, hands muddied with gristle, “Superb job, Goose!” He leans into you, helmet shields touching and reaches forward to kiss your glass. You smile and laugh with him in gratification. You can’t wait to harvest the rest of the mounds with your partner. 

A warmth you have never felt before bestows itself to you this early morning. It flourishes in your heart and subsequently pumps through your body, reaching from the crown of your head all the way down to the soles of your feet. It stretches from your ribs to the ends of your fingertips, running in cycles back and forth. The cause of this pleasure was not from the large aurelac haul you had pulled yesterday, but from the man that you harvested with. Ezra’s arms encircle you, heavy with sleep. You’re swaddled in his blankets with him, the depths of sleep tempting you to fall back down to their level of subconscious. The Sun hasn’t risen yet. 

You had crawled into Ezra’s awaiting lap after Cee had fallen asleep the night before. It wasn’t that you felt like you had to hide your feelings from her, but the dynamic still made you feel a little bit awkward, even with Ezra’s reassurance and Cee’s encouragement to pursue him. You would feel more comfortable if she were to wake up and find the two of you in your designated sleeping arrangements, and not in an amorous yet innocent entanglement of limbs. 

You can practically feel a rainbow sprout from your chest as you look up at Ezra, finding delight in his relaxed expression. His hair is messy not from the tossing and turning of a restless night’s sleep, but the enamored strokes of a yearning partner’s fingers. The whirlwind of malachite butterflies in your stomach nudges you away from sleep. You press your hands into Ezra’s chest, where they have been resting, and turn to nuzzle your nose into his collarbone before you start to slip out of his embrace. Gently lifting his arms off of you in an effort to keep him asleep, you fail. He cups the side of your face and rubs his thumb back and forth against your cheek a few times before he lets his arm fall to his side. He gives you a smile of understanding, allowing you to leave him only because he will dream about holding onto you for forever once he drifts off again. You give him a playful boop on his nose before you stand and trudge over to your pilot’s chair, sinking down into your own cold blankets. You try your best to recreate the heat you just deserted by bundling yourself up tight, but it’s not the same. However uncomfortable, you quickly succumb to the temptation of sleep. 

The true morning gives rise to an energetic group of prospectors. Still joyful about yesterday’s collection, you, Cee and Ezra are enthusiastic to stroll around The Blue again and see what else could be in store for you. Stretching in your chair, Ezra grabs your raised hands and leans over the back of your seat. You look up into his eyes and he greets you, “Good morning, Goose.” You smile and tease, “Good morning, Magpie.”

Cee blurts out, “Finally, you give her a nickname too!” You and Ezra laugh as he releases your hands, and you turn to face Cee at her equipment hatch. “I like Magpie too. Very fitting,” she raises an eyebrow at Ezra and he shoots you a wink. You get up to fold your blanket, Ezra glides over to his own equipment hatch, and Cee says, “You know, I say you guys last night.” Your face instantly beats red, and Cee notices, “No, it’s fine. It makes me happy to see a couple that can get over obstacles and love each other through it all.” You still feel a bit embarrassed, but shrug it off. 

A word she chose makes you question Ezra, “Are we a couple?” 

“Of course. We’ve always been partners, haven’t we?” 

Suited up, the three of you enter The Blue. After your daily assessment of the land (beautiful, as always) you turn to Cee and wait for her direction. She had mapped out the majority of the Blue Moon the day that you and Ezra stayed inside the pod, so you trusted her guidance the most. Ezra asks, “Where to today, birdies?” Cee analyzes the map before pointing to an area, “This block was filled with hills. It didn’t look like there were many deposits, but then again I’m not the best at spotting them.” Eager to start, you ask, “Which way do we go?” Ezra glances at the map, points to the right and commences your expedition, “This is the way.” 

💘taglist: @pascalpanic​ 

[luvlyrv]

A Promise Under the Stars | Irene x F!Reader

Genre: fluff, idol au-ish but not really(?), romance is not extremely explicit

Summary: When you get to meet Joohyun again, you think back about a promise you two made long ago.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Whew. First Irene writing that I’m posting as a stand-alone rather than a part of a series. Also can I say thank you for two of my posts reaching 100 notes within the same week? My very first fic, ‘Second Place’ and ‘Troublemaker’ seem to be very popular, thank you so much fhksadjhfk,

Date: 2/19/21

You collapse on the ground, all your energy expended during several hours of practice. Lying down you can feel the wooden floor under you, your heart pounding as loud as your breathing. As much as you physically feel pain, there was a greater pain building in your heart and mind. Will you ever make it? You've been waiting so long now, how much longer?

With nobody around tears threaten to emerge from your eyes, but the moment is lost when you hear a soft creak. Quickly, you compose yourself just enough to make sure no tears fall. You don't bother turning your head to look at who it was, instead staring at the ceiling as you hear footsteps growing nearer and nearer to your body. Finally, a familiar face emerges from the corner of your eyes. The girl leans over your face, smiling at the sight of you exhausted and sweaty.

"I figured you'd be here." She says teasingly.

"When am I not?" You say as your breathing starts to become steady again.

The girl offers you her small hands and you accept. She helps you on your feet, and when you're finally standing up on your own she doesn't let one of your hands go.

"Wanna cool down with a walk?" She asks you. You lazily nod your head, following behind as your friend, Joohyun.

She takes you outside the building, continuing to walk hand in hand on the sidewalk. You don't know where you're going, but frankly you don't care. Joohyun's mere presence is enough for you to calm down, to feel comfortable and safe. So you take the time to enjoy the feeling of her hand in yours, the night air passing by your skin, and the sound of your footsteps against the pavement. The silence between the two of you making you feel happy.

Eventually the two of you reach a swing set. She let's go of your hand and sits on one, tilting her head to tell you to sit on the one next to her. You go ahead and sit down, gently kicking the ground to create a soft sway. Joohyun does the same with her two hands holding onto the chains holding up the seat. You stare at your feet until Joohyun speaks up again.

"Look up at the sky. It's beautiful, isn't it?" You listen to her command and turn your head up.

You're quite literally star-struck for a moment, a smile appearing on your face as you admire the sky. You've seen the sky and the stars nearly every day of your life. It's the same sky as always, yet somehow on this night it stir something inside you.

"Sometimes I forget how good it is to be living, I let all the beautiful things pass me by." You admit to your friend. You stop looking at the sky, instead turning to face Joohyun. Your eyes follow the outline her side profile as you admire the amazement glazing over her eyes, the curve of her nose, the way her lips pursed together. The nighttime casts her in darkness but the moon gives her an ethereal glow. She stops looking at the stars to give you a smile similar to yours, a smile filled with endearment.

"It's nice isn't it? I come here a lot, just to recollect myself most of the time. It's my space. One where I can exist without worry, without trying to change myself." She says it as she recalls the many nights where she wanted to cry, the nights where she found herself walking here without thinking about it. "I wanted to share it with you though. You seem more stressed recently..." Her soft voice suddenly became laced with worry. You sigh before you start talking again.

"I guess I'm getting bad at hiding it." You try to joke. "I've been training for so long, you know? I've seen so many people leave. So many switch companies, so many debut. Sometimes I wonder if the last several years have been a waste. I don't wanna grow up with this kind of regret." Joohyun looks down dejectedly for a bit at your response.

"I know." She whispers. "I've been feeling the same thing. Sometimes I doubt I even belong. I don't know if this dream is achievable anymore."

You look down, not quite sure what you could possibly say to comfort the both of you. As another wave of silence envelopes the conversation, you kick a nearby pebble, watching it skid as you begin to launch yourself off the ground harder. You feel weightless as you get higher and higher, a little free even, from this restrictive life you live.

Joohyun sticks to the ground, not enjoying the idea of being at such a high height. Still, she begins to smile at the sight of you having at least some sort of fun. Things continue like this, the both of you contemplating different things in the silence under the same worries.

"Hey Y/N." Joohyun breaks the silence by calling for you. You're still staring at the stars as you swing in the air.

"What?"

"Slow down for a minute." You listen to your friend and start to slow down your momentum. When you're finally settled, Joohyun leans over from her swing with her hand out. She has her pinky finger raised while you look at her in confusion. "How about we do it?"

"Do what?"

"Let's complete our dreams. Together." You chuckle a bit at her sudden childish-ness that was different from her mature nature. Despite how out of character it was though, you couldn't help but feel appreciative for the act anyways. You stick out your hand and wrap your pinky around hers.

"Alright. Our little promise, between just the two of us."

"I know I can do it if I have you by my side." A pink hue paints itself on Joohyun's cheeks, complimenting the adorable smirk she gave you. Your heart pounds a little and you laugh at her.

"Since when were you so childish and greasy?"

"I don't know, since whenever it could make you smile like that?" You look away, feeling warmth flood your face.

"Whatever." You scoff light-heartedly.

For the past several weeks you felt like you were in a rut. Motivation draining away from you. Your promise with Joohyun though, her words, her loving voice, everything about her made you want to stay. Perhaps now you can complete your dream.

*

*

You're waiting in line, a smile is plastered on your face that you can't seem to wipe off. Finally, you can see her again.

You can still remember the day she told you she would debut. There was a part of your heart that hurt, but otherwise you were ecstatic for her. Of course out of consideration she tried not to talk about it much, but you assured her it was something that was worth celebrating. That it was an event and feeling you wanted to share between the two of you.

Things didn't turn out as planned. You kept training, but seeing Joohyun debut with seemingly no results for another year was disheartening enough to make you quit. It also didn't help that as Joohyun got busier, the two of you got to talk and hang out less and less. Everyday you would compulsively check your phone, only to be gifted a response on a rare occasion.

After your trainee years you moved on in your life, getting a higher education and joining a career that you found pleasure in. As you focused on your career though, you also found yourself with less and less time. It seemed like at some point Joohyun changed her number and forgot to tell you. For some reason it left you feeling a bit heartbroken. Although she wasn't really a part of your life anymore your memories with her graced your thoughts often.

Now though, as time has passed, your work life has settled down more. You've earned some money and took some vacation time to attend a very, very important event.

The person in front of you finally moves and you're face to face with Yerim, a girl you spent a lot of time with under the same company. She looks up at you with a smile and a face filled with both surprise and recognition. She signs your album before gently nudging the member next to her.

You move on in the line to meet Seulgi. She's happy that Yerim caught her attention to tell her you were here. She gives you a familiar smile and thanks you for coming to see the group. You get your album signed by her and two other members who you didn't get acquainted with during training until you reach the end of the table.

There she was, Bae Joohyun, the person you were closest with during those grueling years training. As soon as you're standing in front of her your heart threatens to jump out of your throat. When your eyes meet you almost feel like crying.

"Hey." You barely get the word to leave your mouth. The sound could hardly escape the tightening of your throat. Judging by the look on her face, it seemed like Joohyun was overwhelmed with feelings too, nearly wanting to cry. Instead she gives a light laugh.

"I've missed you." She says. Maybe it's in your imagination, but she's staring at you so dreamily. You don't know what to say, so you decide to just be honest.

"I've missed you too. I've been waiting for this day." You pause for a second before continuing. "I'm sorry I didn't make it." Joohyun shakes her head at your apology.

"Don't be. As long as you're happy with where you are now then I'm happy too." She gives you her signature smile that had always managed to comfort you.

"Let's make a new promise." Once again she sticks out her pinky finger at you. You take it without hesitation. "Let's talk. Like old times." Even though you haven't talked to each other properly in years, the feeling of her pinky and yours made you feel just as close as you were back in those days.

The staff are ushering you to go, the moment the two of you were sharing was holding up the line for too long. Quickly, Joohyun signs your album and you notice that she opens it and scribbles something inside. Could she have possibly written a message for you?

When go arrive home you admire the album with signatures strewn across it. The question that you had for the entire day though was what Joohyun wrote inside of it. Within the privacy of your home you finally felt safe to open and check.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

let's stay together this time ♥

[thosewickedlovelies]

Be the Girl You Wish to Meet in the Bar Bathroom

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x F!Reader

Summary: You make a new friend in the bar bathroom. She and her friends help you lure in the hottie she spots checking you out ;)

Rating: T for suggestive themes

Tags: Brief mention/implications of alcohol use.

Word Count: 3,359

A/N: This one goes out to all the drunk girls you've ever met and been uplifted by in bar bathrooms <3 Also for @nathan-bateman ❤

---

“Ugh, my feet are killing me,” your new friend groans as she lowers herself onto the toilet. “This always happens when my friends make me dance with them.” Still seated, she bends over to rub what she can reach of her heel.

Despite the thumping music and the din of bar conversation in the background, you can hear her perfectly fine, seeing as you’re sealed in the tiny bathroom together. You met her a moment ago in line, after you almost stumbled into her and she immediately proceeded to compliment your dress. Now you’re chatting like longtime pals.

A universal feminine experience, a distant part of your mind thinks, with a fuzzy sense of warmth.

“Yeah but you’re so lucky though,” you tell her earnestly, while washing your hands. “My boys hardly ever dance with me, they’re soo lame.” You make an exaggerated pouty face.

You only ever went out with your boys- Frankie, Will, Benny, and Santiago. You had other friends at work, but weren’t quite at the “let’s go out dancing together” stage with any of them yet. Benny and Santi actually did dance, but while you loved them to pieces, it wasn’t quite the same.

Tonight you had reunited at one of your usual spots- a basement bar that was a bit on the divey side, but just trendy enough to have designated space for a dance floor.

“Oh my gosh, you should totally come dance with me and my friends! Every girl needs a girl friend group to dance with.” She looks at looks at you with wide, serious eyes and all the sage certainty of a perfectly tipsy person.

“Oh my gosh, that’s so nice!” You’re genuinely touched at her invitation. “And so true,” you add a beat later, nodding with conviction. You shift away from the sink as she flushes the toilet.

“Yeah!” The brown-haired woman continues to rave about her friends while she washes her hands. “Ready?”

Arm in arm, you leave the bathroom together. You halt almost immediately, however, as the colored lights of the dance floor change abruptly, blinding you with white strobes. You both shriek and giggle as you throw your hands up in defense. You decide to remain where you are while you try to locate her friends.

She spies something else first. “Oooh, don’t look, but there is an absolute Adonis of a man checking you out right now at one of the tables.”

You don’t look, keeping your intrigue under wraps as you continue to scan the room. “Ooh, what does he look like?”

Santiago Garcia had been keeping an eye on the restrooms waiting for you to return, but his relief at your reappearance turns to curiosity as you exit with a woman he’s never seen before. His interest in her fades quickly, though, as the sweeping lights highlight your grinning face and that close-fitting dress. Everything else seems to fade to his peripheries.

He doesn’t know what it is, but he’s captivated by you tonight. Maybe it’s that you haven’t seen as much of each other lately, everyone busy with work and life. He thought he’d been elated at the prospect of a group get-together this evening, but when he kept finding himself frustrated at the guys stealing your attention from him, he wondered if it was just you he’d been excited to see.

Maybe it’s the fact that he can see every man in a ten-foot radius of you right now doing the same thing he is: checking you out. Sizing you up like nothing more than a trophy to add to their collection, as if any of them were good enough for you.

His fingers tighten around his beer as Santiago drags a dark gaze down you. Thinking of all the memories he has associated with you, all the things he’s seen your body do- a connection none of these other suckers can claim. In his brooding, he doesn’t notice the woman beside you noticing him.

“There they are!” Brown Hair squeals. She drags you around the edge of the dance floor to where several people are waving.

There’s a flurry of introduction, but you don’t catch any of their names over the music. A tall woman with noticeably muscled arms; another with deep brown skin and a halo of dense, tiny, blue-dyed curls; a third whose accented greeting you’re just able to catch as the music fades briefly.

Taking advantage of the quiet, Brown Hair speaks. “All right girls, now listen. There was an obscenely gorgeous man checking out our new friend a second ago, and I bet he still is. A few tables behind us, with the hair?”

With the hair? She and you are facing the dance floor, but her friends are facing the bar’s tables, one of which your future man is apparently sitting at. With outstanding coordination and nonchalance, they all manage to identify him over your shoulders, and whistle their approval.

The one who…?” You strain to hear Arm Muscle’s question, but it’s lost beneath a suddenly surging bassline.

Brown Hair darts a quick glance over shoulder and nods.

“That is some nice hair, and I would know,” the blue-afroed beauty smirks and winks at you, before grabbing your hand and tugging you slightly further onto the dance floor. Still close enough to the edge to be plenty visible to anyone seated at a table. “Don’t you worry, we’ll get you that man.”

“I haven’t even seen him!” You protest with a laugh, even as you follow her willingly.

“Girl, all you need to know is that he is insanely hot.” The one with the accent speaks from close behind you. “As your designated girl friend group for tonight, it’s our duty to help you lure him in.”

Conversation becomes impossible in the rhythm of the crowd. You follow their lead, let their hips and hands guide your movements, losing yourself in the uninhibited joy of moving your body to the thumping music. In the whirl of unself-conscious beings all around you, you momentarily forget what brought you out here in the first place.

Until, after some unknown amount of time, Brown Hair twirls to face you. “He’s on the move!” She waggles her eyebrows.

You remember then that you’re supposed to be dancing for some guy. You’re still facing away from the tables, but from in front of you Blue Hair has a clear view over your shoulder. “Mmm, look at his hunky blond friends,” she purrs. “Think he’ll bring them over too?”

Wait. Surely they couldn’t mean…? There had to be more than one table in here with two hunky blond men at it, right??

She spins you around, and you follow her pointing to where Benny and Santiago are standing at their table, the former clapping the latter on the back. Eyes widening, you’re nearly beside yourself wondering which of your boys the girls could possibly be referring to- until Santiago detaches himself from the group.

“Your man is coming!” Accent squeals.

“Wait, he was the one checking me out?” you hiss frantically.

“Undressing you with his eyes, babe,” Brown Hair nods knowingly. The others make sounds of confirmation.

Pope’s dark eyes pin you as makes his way across the room. He weaves through the tables like they aren’t even there, like you’re the only thing worth his attention. Your lips part in shock.

You’d always thought the vague chemistry between you and Santiago was merely a side effect of his natural sexual charisma. Like a power he could turn on and off at will, you’d seen it in action enough times to recognize it. Although...it had never occurred to you to wonder if the chemistry was not, in fact, a side effect, but rather an intended result. Had Santi been deliberately using his powers on you?

Watching him go, Benny chortles. His gaze slides past Santiago to the other women who are still blatantly eyeing their table. “Looks like you might be DD for just yourself tonight, Catfish.” He smirks devilishly and runs a hand through his hair. “Come on, brother.” Will doesn’t react to his sibling’s invitation as he saunters after Pope, only sipping his beer contemplatively.

Frankie snorts at the older brother’s obvious interest. “Get out of here man, they’re definitely checking you out, too. I’ll hang here for a little while longer.”

Will cracks a smile. Draining his glass, he unfurls himself from the table, bright blue eyes roving appreciatively over the women flanking you.

“You’re the man, Francisco.” The taller blond gives him a nod of thanks before following his brother.

Frankie only shakes his head, a faint smile on his lips as he observes the scene unfolding between you and Pope. Finally.

With the hair, indeed. That should have tipped you off straightaway. You’ve been encouraging Santi to grow out his gorgeous curls for probably as long as you’ve known him, but he rarely took leave for long enough to gain any measurable growth. Even short, however, his greying locks reflect the colors of the roaming spotlights as he approaches, making his beauty even more otherworldly.

Dumb with surprise, you don’t have time to plan any kind of reaction before Santiago is there, standing before you with one upturned hand outstretched. “Can I cut in?”

Cooing, your new friends part to allow him unhindered access to you. Although there’s a suave sort of expectancy on his face- he knows what the girls were doing- even in the dim, shifting light you can see the genuine question in his eyes.

You’re still unsure of what he’s playing at, but Santi has never let you down before. Your hand doesn’t waver as you place it in his.

His fingers curl around yours, warm and reassuring. He tears his gaze from you only to briefly address the girls: “My friends are single, by the way.”

As if on cue, you all become aware of Benny and Will sidling up in Santiago’s wake, like two blond, shameless, bad ideas.

Santi is wearing that big shit-eating grin when he turns back to you, and you can’t help but smile at his familiar antics. Laughing, you let him sweep you away, guiding you toward a more remote corner of the dance floor and into a sway that’s breathtakingly gentler than what you were expecting, given the moves with which you and the girls were taunting him.

(If his hold feels gentle, he makes sure it doesn’t look that way: flexing his arms where they rest around your waist and brushing his nose along your hairline, breathing you in and sending menacing glowers to anyone still looking at you.)

You’ve never been this lost for words around Santiago. You’ve danced with him before, technically; but it had never felt like this. You want to speak, but your tongue feels clumsy in your mouth, heavy with the energy between you. As your thoughts churn, his hold shifts, one arm wrapping all the way around your waist to draw you nearer, the other sliding up your spine, fingertips tracing the skin above the back of your dress.

It may have only been a song or two during which you held each other, but it felt like much longer. His light caress sets the blood fizzing in your veins, sparkling like drink mixers, sweet with the promise of bright memories to come.

Finally he speaks. “Is this okay?” Santi murmurs.

Hearing his warm voice in your ear, instead of making you more nervous, grounds you. That familiar, steady timbre, his quiet confidence and trust in you to answer him truthfully. Which you do, because you trust him, too.

“Very,” you profess into his neck. Your nose nearly tucks beneath the collar of his button-down. “Santi…” you hesitate, knowing you want to ask but unsure of what the question is.

He waits, his subtle swaying never faltering.

“Why tonight?” It’s a vague, possibly lame cop-out of a question, but it’s the only way you can think to phrase it. He’ll understand though. Santi can play the fool when he wants, but he knows you, and now isn’t the time.

For several heartbeats, the only response is the rasp of his stubble against your jaw. You swear you feel his lips brush your skin, but before you can properly register the sensation he’s withdrawing to answer.

“Mmm...Well, I don’t need to tell you what those dance moves of yours do to me.” He pinches your side in emphasis, but despite your squirm and flush, you scoff. Santi has seen you dance like that before- he’s been the one dancing with you like that before.

Santiago chuckles, the sound liquid dark. He knew you wouldn’t buy that. “Honestly, I don’t know. Seeing all these other assholes eyeing you up like they’d have a chance...I couldn’t stop myself. I’m just putting them out of their misery, really.”

You snort at his dismissive shrug, knowing his irreverence masks real emotion. You can read it in the lines of his face, each one as dear and familiar to you as the beauty marks on your own. Green and red lights stripe his skin as you study them.

He can’t quite meet your gaze, suddenly. “What are you staring at,” Santi grumbles, burying his face in your neck again.

You giggle at his gruffness, at his breath huffing on the sensitive skin.

“Just your pretty face, Santi,” you croon. You tighten your arms around his shoulders, deliberately wiggling closer so you’re pressed more firmly against him.

His sharp, surprised inhale juts into your chest. But any response he might have given is lost beneath the sudden blare of trumpets from the speakers.

The familiar melody makes you both pause. You lean back just far enough to meet Santiago’s eye; you know he’s anticipating the same thing you are and you both shout: “Shakira, Shakira!”

You squeal as Santi leaps back from you, grabbing your hands and twirling you in a familiar routine. ‘Hips Don’t Lie’ had become, thanks to Benny, Pope’s song, a claim he always pretended to roll his eyes at when the boys brought it up. But he secretly loved it, and rarely missed a chance to show off why.

Your muscles leap into action as he does just that, dancing you to the Latin beat. You’re breathless with laughter, sweat beading on your hairline.

I don’t, don’t really know what I’m doing, but you seem to have a plan...

The tripping guitar notes swirl around you, but Santiago doesn’t let you stumble. He guides you in time with the pounding percussion, his whole body undulating to the rhythm.

All the attraction, the tension...

His arms cross above your head as Santi spins you so your back is pressed to his chest. He holds you close, hands low on your hips, and you lean back into him, relishing the strength in the muscles shifting against your spine. Warmth radiates from him, all-encompassing. He hooks his chin over your shoulder and you turn your head to look at him.

His face is much closer than you were expecting; a thrill bursts in your chest. Curiosity kindles, however, as you take in his expression. You’re not sure if you recognize it. Happy, but searching- like he’s gauging your reaction, or seeing something he hasn’t before.

You don’t have time to dwell on it, though- the song is approaching Benny’s favorite line. You tip your head as if listening, raising your eyebrows at Santi expectantly.

His eyes widen, sparking with recognition at your signal. You jump away-

Let me see you move like you come from Columbia…

The saxophone trills its long, fluttering note and you whoop in admiration at the sight before you. Santiago loops his hips rapidly, letting them sling him in a circle, his elbows held square at chest level. His lips form an “o” of concentration in a spicy expression that would make anyone else look ridiculous. But Santi’s obvious skill and the self-assured confidence with which he always carries himself only makes the whole thing ridiculously sexy.

Santi’s movements cause his shirt to ride up, exposing a sliver of taut, tan skin. Shamelessly you appreciate the visible, flexing muscles in his arms and thighs. His butt in those jeans.

He is grinning and giddy when he faces you again, one corner of his smile crooking higher as he witnesses your glee. Laughing, Santi pulls you back into his arms.

“How many times have you seen me dance like that, cariño? And every time you have the same reaction.” His voice is breathless in your ear.

You bite your lip at the warmth of his broad hands, at what is definitely the kiss of his mouth on your skin.

“I like your dancing, Santi,” you say simply. His pulse thrums beneath your lips as you slowly skim them up his neck in return.

Into the line of his jaw you admit “...I like when you dance with me.”

Santiago brings one hand up to cradle your head, leaning back slightly to look at you. His brown eyes are full of affection. “I love dancing with you.” Creases fan out from his eyes as he smiles and he is so beautiful it makes your heart squeeze.

The moment hovers, both of you hardly daring to hope. Your gaze skips down to his lips despite your best efforts.

You know he sees it when his grasp tightens, his hold at the nape of your neck becoming more deliberate. His face is merely a breath away.

“Cariño?” he murmurs. You’re surprised to see the faintest trace of uncertainty, the question in his eyes. He’s asking if you’re sure.

One eyebrow quirks the tiniest bit. “Santi?” You are.

The uncertainty vanishes, and you kiss him.

He lets out a soft groan in the back of his throat. He hauls you as close as he possibly can, and you arch into him, trying to get closer.

You plunge your hands into his silvery curls with a sigh of satisfaction. You’ve touched his hair before, but never like this- never used it to hold his face to yours. The damp traces of sweat as you twist your fingers in it only add to the surreal euphoria of it all. The flashing lights leave colored impressions against your closed eyelids; the music is a muffled, fading pulse as your senses fill with him.

The sturdy press of Santiago’s body, the smell of him- lingering cologne and the musk of his earlier exertions. His mouth velvety hot, his tongue curling against your own in a way that makes heat expand low in your belly. Increasing desperation infects both of you as you realize you should have done this ages ago.

Dimly you become aware of raucous cheers coming from somewhere nearby. With a gasp you pull your mouth from Santi’s, chest heaving. His lust-blown eyes clear somewhat as you share a shy grin.

Then he looks up, toward where the Miller brothers and your girls are hooting at you. Benny cackles as Santiago gives them a one-fingered salute. You shrug helplessly at the girls, noticing with delight the way they’ve paired off: Benny with his arms around both Accent and Arm Muscles; next to them, Blue Hair’s beautiful brown skin contrasting with Will’s paler complexion.

Overcome with mischief, you duck your head into Santiago’s neck again. Placing your lips where it curves into his shoulder, you flutter your tongue delicately against the flesh before biting down with purpose, laving and nibbling to leave a mark.

Santi sucks in air and you feel a subtle shudder wrack his body. He is still facing your friends; scandalized oooohs sound from their direction, and you're impishly delighted to have made him react in some visible way.

His grip on your head shifts so that one thumb is pressed beneath your chin, guiding your head back up to look at him. He breathes your name, his expression dangerous- but questioning all the same.

Radiating innocence, you grin in answer. “Wanna get out of here, Santi?”

Relief quickly vanishes beneath the promising gleam in his eyes as he takes your hand.

[maliciouslycreative]

How I played damage control to an anti in a small anime fandom and may have led to her ultimate downfall

I know I had a really nice write up of this at one point but oh well. I’ll spill more of the tea in this one because honestly the tea was so hot.

There are a few things that I have to give context to first. Gaia online was like THE mega forum of the 2000s, you made a little avatar and through posting and doing other activities on the forum you made money to buy clothes for your avatar. There were forums for everything but the fannish portions were really what drew in most of the people. The anime I was into was Beyblade. It was a shonen anime about fighting with tops that were possessed by the spirits of magical creatures. The story was honestly pretty average but the characters were fantastic and the fandom is to this day still one of my favourites. The series had a primarily male cast and didn’t even have a female lead until the second season. This led to the fanfic for the English fandom being about 70% canon/OC, 10 % canon m/f, and 20% slash. The most popular character in the English fandom was by far Kai Hiwatari, the loner badboy of the team.

Also before we get started I would like to add that one of my best friends was neck deep in this and the two of us were more or less fandom married. This is the same friend that I fake dated, had feelings for, and she nearly got me into kpop in 2011 so like if you haven’t read that story please read it too because it will give you a good idea of how stupid I am and how much of a fanfic I have truly lived. 

To set the stage I was 16, soon to be 17 when I joined the fandom and it was 2004. In September of that year I wrote a humour longfic that became an absolute smash hit and I found myself somehow fandom famous. It was around this time that I joined Gaia online. I made my little avatar and immediately went looking for the beyblade thread so that I could make new friends. I found the main thread, made my little introduction and at the end of it mentioned that I was a slash writer but I supported all ships. This is where I met C. She had declared herself the authority on Beyblade in these parts and I had just committed the crime of mentioning slash which was very obviously not canon and we did not discuss in this thread because we only discussed canon things. I was like well that’s a bit severe but like sure whatever I just want to hang out and have fun. 

Oh boy did I have no idea what I was in for. 

C was a year older than me and unfortunately that made her older than the majority of the fans at the time. Her favourite character was Kai, and she was not shy about talking about this fact. She stanned Kai above all other characters, and often at their expense. She was also a fanfic writer of a popular canon/OC series. Actually, she was so full of herself that she didn’t even call herself a fanfic writer, no her stories were in fact novels and were apparently very good. I never read them. But more on that later. 

Eventually the slash fans got tired of her being rude to us in the general thread so we made a Beyblade slash thread. There was a core of like 8 or so of us and we honestly had sooo much fun. When C would be too unbearable in the main thread the people from there used to come over to our thread and we’d chat with them about non slash stuff because we were honestly all multishippers and just wanted to have fun. We’d get comments like “wow, I’ve had more pleasant canon het ship discussions in the slash thread than the regular thread”. We never worried about C coming over and getting upset about comments like this because she refused to be associated with anything related with slash lmao. 

I tried my best to keep the peace between C, myself, and the rest of the fandom because ultimately I hate being in fandom drama. I just want everyone to have a good time. I’m a people pleaser. Unfortunately my newfound fame put me in the awkward position of being the most fandom popular person in our small community aside from C. Virtually every fan that read fanfics that came into our thread knew one of us or the other by reputation and C HATED this. Especially because people would come in to the thread, recognise me and go “oh my goodness I love your fanfics!” and I’d be super sweet with them and it’d lead into “I can’t believe how nice you are, I love you” which would lead to us crying at each other. This was not the kind of fan interaction that C got, no her fans were more kind that were there to praise her and worship her like a deity that had blessed them with some gift. Rarely did they tell her how kind she was. 

Back in the mid 2000s there were really commonly those commercials (usually by Christian organisations) asking people to sponsor say children in Africa or to help build schools or provide drinking water. You all probably know the ones; know the language that they used in those commercials. My fandom wife, who I suppose I shall call wifey because yes we were THAT couple back then, once said that C described her fics like those people described donating money to save the lives of Children in Africa. So we used to joke that her fics were so good they’d save lives in Africa. Looking back at it all, she almost had a very fundamentalist Christian approach to bringing people into her fanfics. She of course tried to get all the slash people into reading it. None of us read canon/oc fic mostly due to our poor treatment at the hands of their fans and creators. Getting fed up I one day told her that if she would read any one of my fanfics that I would read the entirety of her novels. Yes, I was willing to commit to read a couple 100k of canon/oc fanfic that I’d never touch normally if she would even read one of my 1k 1 shots. Heck, I had a fic even that shipped 2 minor characters so she didn’t even have to sully herself reading about one of the main characters. It was honestly a good deal in her favour. I kept this up until the day we all left the fandom. Sometimes I do wonder if her fics were even ¼ as good as she claimed, but I will never know because she refused to read my fics. 

She wasn’t all bad and a tyrant all the time. As long as people kept the conversations on track and didn’t come in to the thread saying things like “KAI IS SO HOT ND T3H BEST N I AM GUN 2 MARRY HIM” she stayed mostly civil. It was always hilarious watching InuYahsa or Naruto fans try to come in and bad mouth Beyblade because they’d unleash the dragon and C was great at chasing off undesirables in the thread. 

The real apex of goings on though on Gaia was the guild drama. So guilds were like exclusive themed mini forums within Gaia. Anyone could buy one and run it however they want, as long as it still adhered to Gaia’s ToS. C of course was the owner of the only Beyblade guild. The fandom wasn’t really big enough to support 2 guilds so we just kind of let it go. Technically she allowed people to post slash fanfics but like everything had to be explicitly tagged and there was absolutely no slash RP. Wifey and I controlled a handful of minor characters together in the forum RP and definitely used to try to push the boundaries a little bit. Some ambiguous flirting here, a stray comment there. It was such a fragile balance though because C was heavy on the ban button. The active portion of the guild was just people that were in the cult of C and worshipped her writing. 

Understandably the other slash fans and myself were getting disheartened by this. So we pooled our funds together and decided that we’d open a second guild that though it was run by slash fans we would welcome anyone into our ranks. We just wanted to have a fun place for everyone to hang out, and to hopefully run a few events out of. In hindsight, we should have seen what would happen. When we opened the guild, with me as the guild leader, it was like somebody blew up the whole dam protecting the delicate ecosystem we had cultivated. Every single person in the Gaia fandom that was not a zealous follower of C applied to be in our guild and left her guild. We of course figured that we’d attract some of the gen population but we did not expect to accidentally poach all of it. All of the moderators were getting messages from people thanking us for giving them a place where they could say whatever they wanted without fear of getting their faces ripped off or banned. 

C lost her shit. She was so mad that we went behind her back to ruin her guild. We literally had to show her posts in the very public slash thread that we had been planning this in public and that it was not to ruin her life. We just wanted a place where we could freely post slash. The two of us had some spicy comments back and forth and then she dropped an absolute bombshell on me. Since Gaia’s mail system is terrible I unfortunately no longer have exactly what she said but it was something along the lines of “Ok, you win. I’m going to close my guild.”. Us slash fans had never been doing this to win anything. We had never been competing. We just wanted a safe space to be ourselves. 

C never joined our guild. The fandom slowly faded out within the next year anyway. We weren’t getting new content so naturally people just drifted into other fandoms. C kept up with the main Beyblade thread for a lot longer than most of us but eventually that eventually faded into obscurity too. 

I learned a lot about fandom bullies from those days. But honestly the thing that stuck with me the most out of everything was that if you provide a positive safe space for people they will flock to it. It may seem like there are so many hostile people out there, but there really aren't. They're the minority but they just make sure that their voice is the loudest. The best way is to ignore them and just do your own thing. The bullies just want attention and if you don’t give it to them and prove to them that their opinion doesn’t matter to you then they’ll move in and find something else to yell at. 

[btsficsforthehumble]

adj.: 1. Modern, unfamiliar, or different

2. Not based on or conforming to what is generally done or believed

pairing: reader x ot7

genre: college au; angst, fluff, smut, poly, ot7

Summary: You begin your first year at a prestigious university, set out on achieving your academic goals when a series of men step into your life that change the way you view the definition of love.

Part Five

Warnings: none in this chapter

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: New characters, yay! Just an fyi but I would like to start posting one chapter every week... thots?? Also, I've been thinking of adding a taglist? sksk I know it would be small but I personally love to get tagged when new chapters come out for my faves. If that's something ya'll would like comment so I know!! Alright, back to your regularly scheduled program :)

----

Literature was next. Now this? This you could handle. Always being a bit of an avid reader, you could devour a novel in one night --- and you often did. Finding the hidden meanings between the lines of text, like unwrapping a present, gave you a thrill. You were the person who could debate for hours about the meaning of a symbol in a book, as annoying as that is to everyone else.

Maybe it was the promise of escape, where you could be transplanted into another world, detached from your own, that appealed so much to you about reading. You could lose yourself, feeling the rush of the love affair or the thrill of a dangerous adventure. Coupled with your analytical nature, you felt more than at home in a literature classroom.

With this in mind, you make your way to your next class with more vigor than usual. When you arrive and take a seat, you pull out your materials and wait for class to begin.

Several minutes later, your professor walks to the podium in the front of the room to introduce herself. After several minutes of reviewing the syllabus, she explains the structure of the class. You were to be placed in small groups, to discuss the readings and write a paper at the end of the semester. This made you a little nervous --- having to rely on others to some capacity for your grade always gave you a bit of anxiety.

She began reading out the names of the students belonging to each group, so you listen carefully as to not miss your own name despite your anxious thoughts swirling inside your head.

“... Eum Hee-Young, Gal Ae-Cha, Ree Mun-Hee, you are group seven. Kim Seokjin, Y/l/n y/f/n, Kim Namjoon, you are group eight. Ok Youngsoo…” her voice fades off as you glance around the room, trying to meet the gazes of other searching eyes as your group was announced.

Your eyes meet those of a guy who looked maybe a year or two older than you, with round, wire frame glasses. His mahogany hair was pushed off of his forehead, parted to the side giving him a youthful but put-together look. He holds up eight fingers, looking at you expectedly, and you nod quickly. He picks up his belongings, preparing to move to you as you had empty space in the seats around you. As he slings his backpack over a shoulder, you scan your eyes around the room to try to catch the other member of your group.

To your surprise, your eyes meet those of the same boy you had ogled over yesterday in your calculus class, before it had started. You shyly hold up your own eight fingers, to which he gives a decisive nod to, and begins to make his way to you as well. You can’t help but notice the planes of his back as he bends down to grab his backpack, his wide shoulders tilting making them seem even larger. He is wearing a simple blue button down and jeans, but even through that you could tell his shoulders tapered to a narrow waist, making him have the perfect masculine inverted triangular build.

Slightly embarrassed at your thoughts, you glance at your other partner, now close to you. His oversized yellow knit sweater swallowed him a little, but with the glasses gave him a cute bookish look. His large frame juxtaposed his cute appearance --- he was on the taller side and seemed built as well. You made eye contact, and gestured to the seat next to you for him to sit. The other boy now approaching, you both watch as he takes the other open seat in front of you.

Your group now assembled, you tune back into your professor who was explaining the first text you were to read together. She told you that it was a short love story that relied heavily on symbolism and became a prominent symbol in and of itself in movies and television. Your first assignment was to analyze the symbolism of the text, and come to a more complex conclusion than what the surface of the text presents. You could feel yourself becoming slightly excited to jump into the assignment as she explained.

“You will be given the rest of class to get acquainted with your group members. They will be permanent, bar any issues that may arise. The first assignment is due at the end of next class. While on this first assignment I will be more lenient with grading, please do your best and set a good standard for your groups. Okay, go ahead everyone,” she finishes.

At her dismissal of your attention, you glance back at your group members. The boy with glasses speaks first. “I’m Namjoon, nice to meet you guys.”

“Seokjin, or just Jin,” the other boy gives.

“I’m y/n, nice to meet you both.”

“So, what year and major are you? I’m a third year, and a journalism major,” Namjoon offers. As he speaks, he gives you both a grin that displays deep dimples on both cheeks. He was very cute, you decided. He had a nerdy charm to him, with a build on the beefy side that made you want to cuddle him.

“I’m a first year… and to tell the truth I haven’t decided on a major yet,” you admit, but give them both a smile.

“Ah, hoobae, you are lucky you are with us pros then! I’m a fourth year, and a business major,” Seokjin says with a wide smile.

“Sunbaenim, are you in calculus before this? I thought I recognized you from there,” you downplay a little. You knew he was in that class since you had spent time checking him out in it, but didn’t want to seem creepy.

“I have a recognizable face.” At this he gives a smug look, but is clearly using a joking tone. “Yeah, calculus with Yoo at nine?”

“Yep. That guy goes so fast,” you frown. “But anyways, how do you guys feel about this assignment?”

Namjoon enters the conversation again, “Honestly I’m kind of excited for it. It’s been a while since I’ve done any reading that isn’t research related, which kind of sucks.”

“That does suck. I love to read, that’s why I took this class, actually,” you empathize.

“Yeah? What do you like to read?” Namjoon leans towards you a bit, excited at the prospect of talking about reading it seems.

“Oh, um… I’d say my favorite genre is probably any type of fantasy, I like being able to be in a different world for a bit. Oh, I also like historical pieces, that stuff is always so interesting.” You were a little hesitant to share, afraid he’d judge your preferences.

“I love historical pieces. I think that’s one of the things that lead me into journalism actually, it’s basically writing history for those in the future to look back on. I just think that’s really cool.” His eyes seemed glitter as he talked about something he was obviously passionate about. You felt yourself developing a soft spot for the boy, finding his friendly disposition and slightly nerdy personality to be incredibly endearing. It didn’t hurt he was also very attractive.

“What about you sunbaenim? Do you like to read?” you ask Seokjin, whose head was oscillating between you and Namjoon.

Surprised the attention shifted to him, his eyes widened to give him an owlish look. You are really surrounded by some beautiful men, you think. What do they put in the water here? It would be normal to run across a cute guy here or there, but this is kind of ridiculous. Seokjin himself has a face that is so beautiful it looks like it should have been carved out of marble!

Focus! You have to scold yourself. The boy you were just admiring in your head is now answering your question and you are too distracted to even process what he’s saying.

“... not too crazy, occasionally I guess…” His body language told you that he was slightly embarrassed at not being as enthusiastic a reader as you and Namjoon.

“I’m sure you have hobbies that are cooler than reading then, if I was athletic or creative I wouldn’t read so much either! Namjoon-sunbaenim, I’m sure you agree,” you encourage with a smile, wanting Namjoon to follow suit in making Seokjin feel comfortable.

Thankfully, he catches on quick. “Oh, yeah, I am way too clumsy to do anything more high stakes than page turning,” He chuckles. You and Seokjin both smile at Namjoon’s subtle self-deprecation. They both were sweet, you think. Your earlier fears about working with others subside. “I guess I could say that I do have another hobby though, I actually help out at the school’s radio station for fun,” Namjoon adds shyly.

Jin tilts his head in surprise. “Oh really? I have a friend who…”

He gets abruptly cut off by the professor’s voice echoing through the room, which causes him to stop his thought.

“Hopefully everyone is acquainted now, and is ready to get to work next class. I expect good things from you all this semester. You are dismissed,” your professor says with finality.

The three of you quickly gather your things, ready to merge with the swarm of students streaming out of the door. You give them both a smile, and say, “It was nice meeting you both. See you next class!” to which they give their own farewell.

As you leave, you check your phone out of habit. It seems your intuition is right, as usual.

*Miss me yet?*

Does Taehyung really have nothing better to do?

*What exactly is there to miss?*

You hope that after your curt response he’d get the memo. This guy is such a fuckboy, you think. While you don’t know why he set his sights on you for now, you hope he gets bored soon. While you give that tough persona to him, the truth is you are more sensitive than that. The idea of being used for sex once and then discarded was unappealing, and Taehyung seemed like the type to do just that.

----

Finally home after attending two more classes for the day, which were thankfully much less eventful, you slip off your shoes and let your bag slide off your shoulder to thunk on the floor. You were tired. And hungry, apparently, because your stomach makes some concerning noises as soon as you slip your light jacket off. You make your way to the kitchen at the sound, ready to make a nice dinner and decompress.

When you get there, you see one of your new roommates sitting at the stools for your kitchen counter. This roommate was one that you had connected with immediately, drawn to her blunt but fun-loving aura. Her short stature, shorter than average, gave no warning for her and ‘gives-no-fucks’ attitude. You could tell however, that inside she had a soft heart. Even in your short time together, you had seen glimpses of it here and there.

You learned when you had met that she had moved to Korea from America last year, making her a second year at your university. Her features stood out from the crowd, with brown skin and large curls that framed her face in a halo. She was really quite beautiful. Tia, but called Bean by her friends, which now included you, made you feel welcomed to campus and you were thankful for her.

Wanting to not scare her as you walked into the kitchen, you gave her a greeting. Her head pops up from where it was buried in her phone, which had been drawing her into her own world.

“Hey chickie. Long day?” she asks. Apparently your exhaustion was pretty obvious if she could tell right off the bat. You sigh, bending over to pull some vegetables out of the fridge.

“I just want to know who let me schedule four classes on Tuesdays. They should be in jail,” you complain.

She gives you an amused look, watching you now stand at the cutting board to prepare your food. “I think that person was you, sweet thing.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. If I could go back in time and slap my past self I would,” you grown with your head tipped back. She lets out a laugh at your expense.

“Don’t laugh at me unnie! I’m going to pass away from exhaustion over here!” you try to say seriously, but can’t help but let out a little giggle. “What were you doing with your head buried in your phone, huh? Are you talking to someone?” you tease, pointing your knife at her with your other hand on your hip.

“Why, do you wish it was you?” She wiggles her eyebrows, giving you a side smirk. You knew she was deflecting, so you lift your eyebrow and give her a flat expression, waiting for her real answer. “Ugh, it’s nothing. There was just this really cute girl in my class today, and I tried talking to her but she didn’t really seem like she liked me… and I may have just been looking at her social media,” Tia admitted.

Now at the stove, stirring your dinner, you look over your shoulder to say something that would hopefully ease her anxiety. “You know that you can come on strong sometimes, maybe she’s just a little shy, ya know? Maybe try again with a softer approach,” you offer. “What is there not to like?”

She gives you a wide grin to match your own at your last remark. You both giggle, any tension in the air from Tia’s concerns gone. Dinner now finished, you grab two bowls and serve you both. You both slip into easy banter, almost like you two have been friends for years. You hope that you will be, someday.

[poundstonaira]

Fuegoleon x Reader - The Future and Beyond

i wrote this back in 2019 so expect this to be cringe. dont say i didnt warn you.

S/N- Squad Name L/N- Last Name F/N- First Name E/C- Eye Color word count: 1700+

*Y/N’s P.O.V*

This is the third time today. This is the third time I’m at the toilet, throwing up all my food. 

Why?

Was it food poisoning? Did I drink alcohol? What it alcohol poisoning? I couldn’t because I don’t drink alcohol at all, as the head of House (L/N) and the Wife of Fuegoleon Vermillion, I can’t let myself loose. I’ve never tasted it. Ever.

After I finish throwing up, the taste of acid and the feeling of lumpy food lingers in my mouth. I brush my teeth for the fourth time today. When I finish, I feel like the bathroom is spinning.

Yeah… something is wrong with me, I’ll have to ask Mimosa or someone with healing magic  when I have time.

-Timeskip

Luckily, I was able to spot Mimosa here in the hallways of the base, I wonder what she's doing here today.

“Hello, Mimosa. How are you today?” I give her my usual nonchalant, calm face.

She flashes me her usual innocent smile. “I’m fine, and you?”

Okay, this is the time to tell her how your feeling...this might be your only chance.

“So, Mimosa, I haven’t been feeling well recently, “ I start, as she looks at me with curiosity as I’m starting to feel dizzy again, “I keep on throwing up...I feel very dizzy, I’m always getting sleepy, my breasts are feeling more tender and bigg-”

“Your breasts were getting bigger? Weren’t they always big?” 

THIS AIRHEADED LITTLE DOOFUS! YOU CAN’T SAY STUFF LIKE THAT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE HALLWAYS! AND HAS SHE SEEN HERSELF? SHE HAS MELLONS ON HER CHEST.

UGH. 

From her comment about my chest, I feel a tick-mark summoning from my temple, hoping that I can control myself from these mood swings I’ve been getting, I try not to raise my voice so that I don’t get a headache.

“Shh! You know the Crimson Lions are filled with the majority of men! You don’t know if there are perverted men here, Mimosa!” I quickly whisper to her so that no one heard that.

“Ohh! Sorry, I was just pointing that out.” 

Yeah. In the middle of the hallways. That definitely makes sense.

“Anyways, may you please come to my room? I need you to see what’s wrong with me private.” I sigh.

“Sure. I’m always here to help!” She flashes me her normal smile before walking we both walk into my shared bedroom.

Timeskip

We are currently at my desk in my bedroom so that Mimosa can see what the issue is. All I hope is that Fuegoleon comes in here and see her checking on my breast to which she is now squeezing. I’m not even sure what is more painful right now, this headache which is now killing me or Mimosa’s hands squeezing the living shit out of my breasts.

Why can’t she just a spell? Is this what her family taught her? This is brutal as shit! I feel like my breasts are getting ripped apart!

Mimosa uses one of her support spells to see if I have any sickness. I keep looking up at her facial expression to see if there is anything wrong or strange. After a few minutes, I see her facial expression change from focussed to shocked.

“Mrs. Y/N, have you had...sex recently?” She whispered as she looked to the door to see if anyone is coming in and then at me again.

Did I have sex recently? Last time I had sex with Fuego was...maybe four weeks ago? Don’t remember to be honest. 

Wait.

Ohhh SHIITITITTITI!

“Umm...about three weeks ago. Why?” I tilt my head nervously.

She closes her grimoire as she stands up and sighs happily.

“Congratulations.” She replied with a graceful smile on her face.

“You’re going to become a mother.” 

-Another timeskip!

“You’re going to become a mother.” “You’re going to become a mother.” “You’re going to become a mother.”

That same sentence that Mimosa said before finally walking off to do her errands really...shock me but at the same time I’m...terrified. I don’t know anything about being a parent, especially since being royalty, everything matters and once the families find out, they are going to be looking at me. Yes. Me. The oldest sibling of house (L/N) and the Captain of (S/N). So here I am, at 8:30 at night, sitting on the edge of my shared bed, literally shaking, holding my head so I can prevent myself from losing my mind even more, and most importantly, trying to figure out how the hell am I going to tell Fuegoleon.

I wonder what I’m going to do. I’m paranoid because how I am I going to run my squad? I know I have siblings who are very responsible and that take my place but, how would that affect everyone? Is everyone going to be ashamed of me? Am I going to punished by mother and father? Will...Fuegoleon be mad at me? Will he divorce me? Will everyone lose my trust? Will everyone...abandon me?

All of this is really stressful. I’ve never taken care of a child before. I don’t know what I’m going to do, and I’m not sure if my servants can help me. 

But didn’t Fuegoleon want a child? Didn’t he say that it would be good to start a family for the future and beyond? This is too much for me...

To get all of this out of my mind, I decided to take a nap, hoping that I can wake up from this nightmare of anxiety.

Another timeskip!

“Y/N…” I hear a familiar voice call out to me.

Is that Fuegy?

“Hmm?”

“Wake up, it’s Fuegoleon.”

No. Not now. Please. He is the last person I want to see, God please don’t do this to me.

“Who?” I managed to groan.

“It’s Fuegoleon, my love. Remember me? I’m your husband.” He chuckles as he runs his fingers through my silky, smooth, (H/C) hair.

Kill me.

“Ohh…” I yawn, sitting myself up.

“Are you okay? You didn’t show up at (S/N) headquarters, did something happen?” He asks me as crawls into bed, and reading his book. At that, I sigh.

This is going to be hard. I’m not really good at explaining things because I really don’t talk a lot; Especially in a new situation like this, I haven’t really explained any of my issues to anyone because of how quiet I am and, usually the problems I have are minor.  But, I’m pregnant this time, and I have to remember, this is my husband, this is the love of my life, my best friend. I can tell him anything...right?

“So...Fuego?” I heaved a sigh.

“Yes, my love?” He focuses on his book, flipping the page.

“Do you remember when I said that I haven’t been feeling well for the past couple of weeks?” I managed to breathe out.

“Mmhmmm.” He hums, still focusing on his book.

“Well...”I breath out nervously.

I have never been so nervously in my life. Why am I so scared to tell him that I’m pregnant? Shouldn’t I be an optimist about this?

“I…” I start again, it seems like he sees the fear in my eyes and the trouble in my voice.

“What’s wrong, my love? Did something happen?” I hear the concern in his voice he stops from reading his book and turns to put his hand on my shoulder.

“I...met up with Mimosa today to see what’s wrong with me...she t-told me...I’m...pregnant…” I manage to breathe out on the last word.

I did it. I did it. I did it. Holy shit I’m scared. Please don’t be mad at me Fuegy!!!! 

He silently stares at me for a moment in shock. His beautiful plum eyes staring into my soft E/C eyes.

“Thank goodness!” He pulls me into a loving hug, literally giving me no space to breathe because of the space between my face and his muscular chest.

“Wait..you’re not angry!?” I manage to ask in his chest.

“Why would I be? It was me who said that we should have children and...I kind of took advantage of you that night by accident, I honestly didn’t regret at all actually, “He chuckles as bit, “I was hoping for the twenty-three years that I’ve known you, I could have children with you, spend my life with you, come to you when something is wrong, make love with you, and have a family with you. I love you that much, Y/N.” He sniffles as he puts his head on my head.

Honestly…I’m at a loss for words.

From the way he has been acting, I thought he was going to be mad at me, he has been acting so hostile. Ever since we got married, he would come back from his mission, he’d look so exhausted, and he wouldn’t speak to me, I would ask him how his day was, it would be the usual: “Fine, just tired.” But now, since he divulged his feelings since he found out I’m pregnant, I have found out that he really cared for the whole time, he just didn’t know how to say it.

I nudge him, getting him to release me from his tightass hug. I jump on to him as I look at his vibrant, plum eyes one more time before smashing my lips onto his, his callous hands move down my back as mine just stay at both sides of his head as we still give in to the passionate kiss, our tongues still fighting for dominance.

Maybe sometimes I shouldn’t keep things to myself, maybe I should be more confident about the future and beyond.

We pull apart with a string of saliva as we pant for our breaths back.

“I love you, Y/N.” Fuegoleon says he pulls me in for another hug.

“I love you too, Fuegoleon, and from now on, I’m going to be more confident for the future and beyond.

[fruityjeonghyo]

can we get samo fluff moment where momo don't show her soft side to sana when there's people around so when sana was being clingy or touchy with her, she scolded sana and that makes sana sad. and momo rushing to find her and apologise. thankyouu!

i’m going to combine these two if y’all don’t mind:

hey could you write angst/fluff with samo please? maybe sana distancing herself from momo after seeing her more comfortable with others but her. and momo notice it when sana starts to get closer to tzuyu and jeongie. and lastly momo make it up to her (as is spoiling her with hug, food, kisses and tummy rubs🥺)

i changed the whole plot a little bit, hope it’s still worth it. enjoy!! :]

sana and momo had been inseparable since they first met for their audition at the company, they did everything together and would never leave each other’s side. but things started to change a few years later, momo wasn’t as fond of sana’s skinship as the latter thought she was, and sana had started being more clingy everytime she felt homesick. they were still the bestest of friends, telling each other everything and trusting the other with their deepest secrets, but it didn’t feel the same anymore.

sana finally realized all of this when one day she saw momo and jeongyeon cuddling on the couch while watching a movie, she thought it would be great to join them and spend some time with the two girls. she sat on the couch and rested her head on momo’s shoulders as she always used to do back in their trainee days, but momo shrugged her off, telling her she didn’t like it and that she was being just too affectionate for her liking. that was the day sana understood her best friend didn’t want her near, that she didn’t need her hugs like she did back when they felt alone in a new country, without their parents to hold them.

momo didn’t mean to hurt sana at all, sometimes she didn’t feel like hugging her friend because they usually do it all the time, and she felt like it was just too repetitive. she liked hugging jeongyeon, her roomate, or maybe the girls who were younger than her. she felt calm at that moment, but with sana that didn’t happen, she just felt obligated to respond to a hug and she didn’t like it one bit. she loved her though, she loved her best friend more than anyone in the whole world, if she had to describe what a soulmate is she would always talk about sana. but sana couldn’t feel it that way, she felt alone and left out, it hurt like a kick in the gut.

it happened on a friday night, the nine girls were watching a movie, sharing some snacks and having a good time when momo started laughing while leaning on dahyun’s shoulder, like sana used to do with her. it felt like someone just grabbed sana’s heart and squeezed it until it exploded, she felt betrayed, she felt unloved and insecure. maybe it wasn’t the best idea to join them both on the couch and lean on momo’s shoulder while she was distracted, but she wasn’t expecting the latter to react so harshly.

“ugh sana can you please get off me? you’re being annoying” it took less than a second for momo to regret her words, going to grab sana’s wrist to stop her from leaving but it was too late.

sana felt awful, she ran upstairs and locked herself in her room. she couldn’t help but sob uncontrollably as she curled herself on her bed, covering her body with the blanket momo gave her on valentine’s day. it all felt like a nightmare, a horrible nightmare where momo hated her and didn’t want her as a friend anymore. the girls didn’t know how to react, the only one glaring at momo was jeongyeon, silently scolding her for being so rude to sana when she didn’t do nothing wrong. momo decided she needed to apologize as soon as possible so she went upstairs and knocked at sana’s door. the sobs coming from inside the room making her own tears fall.

“sana?” momo asked tearfully “please open the door..”

sana started sobbing harder, hearing momo’s voice didn’t help with the pain she was feeling in her heart. she wanted to disappear, to never bother momo or any of the girls ever again with her clinginess. but the knocks didn’t stop, sana knew she had to give momo a response in order to be left alone just like she wanted.

“i won’t, please go away momo”

“i will stay here until you open the door, please sana i want to talk”

sana scoffed at that. she wanted to talk? after acting like a teenager who didn’t want her mom to give her a kiss in front of her friends? sana felt angry. she was angry and upset, she was hurting and feeling alone without momo by her side. she got up and walked to the door to unlock it, even if it hurt she needed to hear what momo had to say, if she didn’t want to be her friend anymore or if she hated her. she needed to hear everything.

momo walked in slowly, her heart breaking at the sight of sana curled up in bed, her eyes puffy from how hard she had been sobbing. she felt guilty, she didn’t mean for anything like this to happen, she thought sana would understand why momo needed some personal space. but she fucked up, she really did.

“can we talk?” momo said almost in a whisper, scared that if she talked a little bit louder the other girl would start crying again. sana shrugged, turning around and facing the wall as she tried to fight back her tears.

“listen sana i..” momo trailed off, trying to think of her choice of words “i didn’t mean what i said. i- i was just stupid, and i know i haven’t been accepting your hugs like before but..”

“but i’m just too annoying, aren’t i?” sana laughed but it was devoid of humor.

“no you aren’t, it’s just that-”

“that what? that you think since you’re so grown up now you don’t want to hug me anymore? that i’m so annoying you don’t even want me near you while we’re at the dorm? that you got tired of me so you thought the best way to deal with things was to replace me with the younger members? is that it?” sana was screaming at this point, sitting on the bed while trying to catch her breath. bloodshot eyes were staring at momo, and she felt like the worst person ever.

“sana i..”

“why do you hate me momo? why?” sana started sobbing again “wh-what did i do to you? i tried b-being a good friend, i gave you everything f-from the bottom of my heart and i know that i c-can be clingy and just clumsy at times b-but you promised that you liked me that way…” sana said, choking on her words as she remembered the promise both of them made years ago “did you l-lie to me?”

momo didn’t realize she had started crying too, her heart shattering in a million pieces as she let sana’s words sink in. so she did what she hadn't done for months, she leaned forward and engulfed sana in a hug, the latter’s tears soaking her shirt in the process but it didn’t matter. she wanted to comfort sana, to let her know she was there, that she didn’t mean to be such a bad friend to her.

“sana i love you, i always will” momo teared up as she talked “i’m so so sorry satang, i’ve been acting so rude and you don’t deserve it at all”

sana’s cries didn’t stop, but she felt a little bit relieved. she didn’t want momo to notice that though, she tried to squirm away from the hug but couldn’t. momo needed this as much as sana did, she loved sana’s hugs but only on special occasions when she was feeling lonely or sad. she knew she had to explain that to the other girl in order to fix this, to make everything normal again.

“i just.. i like your hugs but only if it’s because something special happened or because you are happy, or if i’m sad i love getting one of your hugs too” momo said while leaning her head on top of sana’s. “i would like it if you could.. ask before hugging me?”

sana looked at her with her wide teary eyes, trying to understand everything momo was saying. momo didn’t hate her, and she actually liked her hugs. what momo didn’t like though was when sana would abruptly cling onto her without a warning, it didn’t have the same effect on her and it felt weird and tiring. sana could finally put all the pieces together.

“i’ll try to ask before i hug you, momoring” sana said, her voice hoarse but gentle nonetheless. “i promise i’ll do my best”

momo smiled and hugged sana even tighter, guiding them to lay down since it was late already. they’ve been talking for such a long time they didn’t realize it was almost 2 in the morning. they got under the sheets and blanket and held each other close, momo caressing sana’s hair gently, taking her time to soothe her friend. then she began rubbing sana’s tummy just like she knew the other girl liked it, earning a little giggle from the latter. they stayed like that for a few minutes until they felt themselves falling asleep.

“i love you, momoring” sana said, a little smile plastered on her face as her eyes fluttered closed. momo looked at her with pure adoration, relieved that they could talk it out and go back to their normal lives. she loved her best friend and she couldn’t even imagine her life without her, without her hugs and sloppy kisses when she gets a little bit too excited. she had promised she liked sana that way, and it wasn’t a lie. momo loved sana.

“i love you too, satang”

[cheeriecherry]

Space Between [Aizawa Shouta x F!Reader x Yamada Hizashi] [2/9]

EraserMic x Reader

Part 2/8

Warnings: depictions of PTSD, one (1) mention of vomiting (nothing graphic), very brief mention of violence (also nothing graphic), your friends being concerned about you, hugs

You wake up the next morning with a very sore, very stiff neck. You appreciate your friends putting you up for a while, but between the two of them they had terrible taste in furniture. In fact, you’re pretty certain their couch is the same couch you three shared when you first got your own place together…

You sit up on the lumpy cushions, wincing when your spine crackles. When you move to stand you find that you can’t, held in place by previously unnoticed twin weights on your blanketed legs. Your heart rate speeds up for a moment, before you realize it’s just a pair of cats sleeping on you.

You carefully finagle your way out from under them, taking extra care not to rouse or wake them. One of them chirps and stretches, and you pause, but she quickly falls back to sleep, tucked up against her companion.

Once you’re free, you wander towards the kitchen to find something to eat. Hizashi had offered to order takeout last night, but you were nearly dead on your feet by the time you walked into the house. You’d gone straight to bed, and now you had to deal with the stomach cramps.

You search around in the pantry and fridge for a while, finding few things more than rice, bread, condiments, and a couple canned goods. It made sense, considering how busy your friends were, but it was also a little ridiculous.

“You’d think two grown men could handle some grocery shopping,” you mumble, and settle on some rice, eggs, and toast. Not your ideal breakfast, but it was better than nothing.

You prepare the rice and set a pan on the stove in a haze, still muddled with sleep. Once both are sufficiently rinsed and warming, you set the rice off to cook and plop down at the kitchen table, where you notice a folded paper sitting. With your name on it.

Curious, you flip it open, instantly recognizing Hizashi’s messy writing.

‘Sho and I had to head out early, but we didn’t want to wake you. You were tossing a lot in your sleep.’

You think briefly back to the dreams you’d had, if you’d even had any. You usually had nightmares, but oftentimes you didn’t remember them, only waking with a hollow and sinking feeling in your chest.

‘You’ve got free run of the place, so use and eat what you want. Be warned, there’s not a lot in the fridge…we don’t really eat at home much. If you need the internet, Sho’s laptop is in the office across from the bedroom. See you tonight around ten!

-H’

You smile at the note, the signature consisting of a single letter, with a poor rendition of a cockatiel and a cat beside it.

You’re glad they have each other, you decide, and glad they’ve gotten together. It shouldn’t have been so much of a surprise to you, Hizashi was always more interested in Shouta than he was you. Sure, he doted on you when you were kids, but when Shouta came into the picture his attention shifted. You admit you had been a little jealous in the beginning, but now…

Maybe you’d just supposed it would always be the three of you together. You’d never bothered with dating or relationships, aside from the feelings you harboured for your best friends. You never saw the point, always content and happy to be with the two of them, even if it wasn’t romantic. They had been your rocks, your safe place, in years past.

You hadn’t comprehended that your interests could be so drastically different.

“C’mon, shake it off, stupid. They’re happy together, don’t ruin it with your feelings.” You run your hands down your face, sighing deeply. The rice would be ready soon, so you might as well get started on the eggs.

You butter a piece of bread and cut a hole out of the center, dropping it in the frying pan and cracking an egg into it. 

Egg In A Hole, one of the first things you’d ever learned to cook. You were seven when you’d first tried it, and Hizashi had been there as well. You’d been at your house after school and he’d claimed to be hungry, and you -ever wanting to impress him- had set a stool in front of the stove and made him the fanciest meal you could think of.

Looking back, you’re amazed you didn’t burn or undercook anything. He had claimed it was the most amazing thing he’d ever tasted, and for years it was a staple whenever you hung out… he’d hopped off that train by the time you were twelve, but every so often you’d still made him Eggs In A Hole.

Now it’s more of a comfort, more of you holding on to a time long passed. Things were different now, you were different, your friends were different-

“Shit!” you hiss, as the toast starts to burn in one corner, smoking up the kitchen. You turn the fan on and flip it over to cook the other side, sighing in relief when the egg doesn’t splatter everywhere.

You’re glad you weren’t sent undercover as a cook on your mission. Your skills in the kitchen are sub par at best, and where you’d been, nothing less than perfection was accepted. Anything burnt or under-seasoned would have been air for punishment; fingernails ripped off, palms cut up, thumbs broken. Anything that would further hinder work…and result in more punishment.

That was just the kind of person your target was. A rich american woman with a taste for torture, and a quirk that allowed her to feast on and destroy the hope in others. She had ‘hired’ you as a silent killer, despite the fact that she could easily kill people herself…or make them kill themselves.

You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath, willing the thoughts away. You weren’t there anymore. You were here, with Hizashi, with Shouta. Safe. Safe.

You scoop the eggs and toast onto a plate, but your stomach has already turned. Memories didn’t pair well with breakfast, it seemed.

Once the rice is finished cooking, you wrap everything up and set it in the fridge for later, and continue going about your day.

—-

Ten PM rolls around before you know it, and your friends walk through the front door. You’ve stolen Shouta’s laptop from the office and moved it to the couch, where you now sit staring intensely at the screen.

The two of them watch you for a moment. If your stillness, posture, and bloodshot eyes are anything to go by, you’ve been like that for a while.

“You’re gonna hurt your back sitting like that,” Shouta says, kicking his boots off and wandering further into the house.

“In a second,” you reply, waving him off.

Hizashi sighs dramatically, crossing his arms. “She’s not even paying attention, Sho. We could be making out right now, and she wouldn’t even notice. Hey, watch this-”

“Hizashi,” you threaten, not looking away from the screen, “if you pull your pants down, I’ll shave your head while you sleep.”

“No fun.” But he removes his hands from his jeans anyways.

Shouta meanders up behind you, leaning over the back of the couch to see what you’re so intent on. “What’s got you so focused?” he asks, scanning the page you’re reading, “You were never like this in school.”

You remain stoic, missing the joke completely. “Conviction trials,” you explain, “I want to make sure every single one of those rich pricks I outed gets put behind bars. I’ve been scrounging news outlets since five.”

“And?”

“Nothing.” You sit up straighter, stretching your back and rubbing at your eyes. “I gave the commission enough information to put these people in prison for life! Why haven’t they been brought in yet!”

“You’ve only been out for a little while. These things take time.” His tone is gentle and concerned, but to your addled brain it feels more patronizing.

You fist your hair in your hands and tug. “I gave them hideouts, names, faces, addresses, bank numbers, concrete evidence against these people! A few days should be enough time to find them! They’re top priority criminals! They should be caught by now!”

A warm hand rests on your shoulder, jarring you violently out of your thoughts. You tense beneath the touch, electricity prickling down your arm, and you look up at him with wide eyes.

“Breathe,” he says.

You breathe.

He squeezes your shoulder slightly, comfortingly. “It’ll happen. Give the media time to catch up.”

You look away from him, finding a spot on the floor to stare at, and slump forward in defeat. “If it gets out that I was the snitch, too…”

The room is quiet for a couple beats as your words register, and the hand on your shoulder rubs soft circles into your skin. “Your partner…they were killed, weren’t they.” It’s not a question, merely an observation.

You nod.

“I can’t let them find me, Shouta. The way these people kill their targets-”

“You’re safe here, Y/N. Always. The chances of these criminals getting into the country undetected is between slim and none. Their faces will be plastered on every single no-fly list, every district wanted list.”

“They can do whatever they want, as long as they have the money.” You turn back to the laptop, continuing to scroll around various news outlets. “Even once they’re in prison, they’ll have outside connections. If they find out it was me who outed their whole operation, I’ll have a target on my back for the rest of my life.”

Shouta lets go of your shoulder, and walks around the couch to take a seat beside you, knees bumping against yours.

“There are…resources,” he begins, choosing his words carefully, “for heroes who’ve been undercover. To help them readjust to everyday life-”

“I don’t need a therapist,” you hiss, scowling. “I need…I need-”

A pair of hands scoops the laptop out of your grip, flipping it closed and setting it aside. But before you can complain, your now-warmed-up plate of food from that morning is set in your lap, and Hizashi takes a seat on your other side.

“If you don’t want a therapist, then at least take care of yourself, okay? Eat.”

Your scowl persists as you chew.

—-

You jolt awake on the couch at an unbeknownst hour of the morning, covered head to toe in a thin sheen of sweat. Your head is spinning and your ears are ringing, and you barely make it to the bathroom before you’re dry heaving into the sink. Nothing comes up, save for bitter bile, but you’re exhausted once the short wave of nausea passes.

You rinse your mouth and the sink out, and splash some water on your face. With any luck, you won’t have woken anyone, but when you exit the bathroom you nearly walk face first into Shouta, who’s leaning beside the door.

“It sounded like you were getting sick.” His tone isn’t accusing, but his posture puts your guard up.

“Nothing came out, so it’s fine.”

You wander back to the living room, hoping to leave the conversation, but he only follows.

“Why were you getting sick in the first place?”

“I dunno,” you grumble tensely, “adrenaline reaction maybe? Who’s to say why people puke.”

He’s quiet for several moments, observing you, your fidgeting, your agitation. You feel like you’re under a microscope, with the way he’s looking at you.

“What happened to you out there?” he asks.

“Stuff,” you mutter.

I got people killed.

“Stuff that gives you nightmares every time you sleep?”

“I don’t need a therapist.”

I don’t deserve to come back from this.

“Your sleep-yelling woke me up. You’re lucky Hizashi wears earplugs.”

You turn away from him and grab your water bottle off the coffee table, plopping grumpily onto the couch. Shouta hesitates for a moment before finding a seat beside you again. Warmth radiates off his body, which is pressed comfortingly against your side. You can feel the tension easing out of your shoulders in his presence.

“What’s so bad about therapists, anyways?” he asks, genuinely curious. “Lots of people need them. Hizashi and I have both seen a couple over the years.”

“I don’t need someone to tell me there’s something wrong with me.”

Shouta sighs. “That’s not what they do, and you know it. What’s the real reason?”

You silently curse his ability to read you like a book, to always somehow know when you’re lying. But…you’re not sure you could tell him the truth.

“I just…don’t like the idea, okay? Leave it at that.”

He watches you silently, searching in your averted gaze for any willingness to open up, but he finds only sadness…and shame. “I should head back to bed, then. Early morning, and whatnot. Try and get some more sleep.”

He rises off the couch, and without thinking you follow suit, and quickly envelope him in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, burying your face in his chest. He’s surprised for a moment, but is quick to wrap his arms around you, holding you tight while you tremble against him. 

He pats small circles into you back, keeping you close until your breathing begins to even out. “Just…don’t let this go on for too long, okay?” It’s the closest you’ve ever heard him to begging, “I don’t know what happened to you out there, but you’re obviously suffering.”

You pull away slightly, tired and defeated, and nod. “I’ll look into it. Those resources you mentioned. Okay?”

You release each other fully, and he gives you one last pat to the head.

“Okay. Now, really, try and get some more sleep.”