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captains-simp · 3 years

Note

hello i love your work!! can you do a part 2 to worth our time? :”) maybe wherein carol is actually getting soft for the reader and wants to be together but the reader is hesitant bc of carol being known as a player? maybe some jealous carol as well? 😳😳

Soft!jock!Carol is a god tier idea and I really hope I did it justice

Shout out to @wlwmarvelenthusiast for helping me with my technical difficulties

Part 1

7.5k words

Warnings: oral, praise and double ended dildo use

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Why are you ignoring Carol?" Wanda asked with a frown as you sped out of the school car park a little too hastily. She narrowed her eyes at you, ready to read into every expression that flickered across your face.

"I'm not ignoring her, I'm avoiding her. It's different." You insisted as you kept your eyes on the road in front of you, determined to leave the school grounds before a certain blonde left the building and got into her own car.

"It's exactly the same thing just in a different font." Wanda stated as she continued to watch you.

"It's not. And anyway, I'm not obligated to talk to her." You said quieter, not finding enough confidence in your words. Of course you weren't obligated to talk to Carol, but you missed it - more than you would admit to yourself.

"I know, I thought you liked her though. You said your date went well with her but since then you run out of every room she enters."

"It wasn't really a date." You muttered as took a left and eyed your mirror.

"Y/n." Wanda laughed. "I think I know a date when it's described to me."

"But it's Carol, Wanda. Carol doesn't do dates." You insisted as you tried your hardest to avoid your friend's gaze again. You didn't want her to see the pain in your eyes.

"She did with you."

"She went down on me-"

"Yes, I remember that catch up conversation." Wanda chuckled and you threw an empty sweet packet you had left in the car at her.

"And I'm not complaining about that. It's just... you know I'm not one to judge people by rumors, but Carol seems like a pretty strict 'hookups only' type of gal. Every time me and Carol are alone together we end up fucking and again, I'm not complaining about that, but it's enough to tell me she doesn't want anything more from me. Not even fuck buddies, because she doesn't commit to girls." You breathed out deeply as you parked up outside yours and Wanda's favourite coffee shop, suddenly not able to tell if you weren't in the mood for your hot chocolate or in desperate need of one.

"I think there might be a little more to it than that." Wanda said after a moment. She knew where you were coming from but she also couldn't deny the fidgety nature and anxious look in the blonde's eyes a few days prior.

"She called it a date last time you were together, she hasn't done that before. She was worried when you were sick and she's only ever worried when her teammates are sick."

"She wasn't worried." You rolled your eyes lightly and managed a small smile at Wanda.

"Oh she definitely was."

You groaned when you heard your phone vibrate on your bedside table. You rolled over begrudgingly, only bothering to check it because you knew it was lunch break at school and it might have been Wanda sending you the class notes you had asked for.

Unknown number: when I saw you weren't in class I assumed you were dead

You frowned as you took a double take of the message and the number you didn't recognize. The fuck? You decided to respond anyway, if they were in your class and texted you maybe they would send you their notes too.

You: sorry, who is this??

Unknown number: your favourite jock ;)

They replied, pretty much instantly. You put two and two together, but really the smirking face would have been enough.

You: Carol? How did you get this number??

You rubbed your eyes and pulled you sick bowl closer to you, frowning at the discomfort you felt.

Unknown number: so I am your favourite jock?? Good to know

You rolled your eyes and groaned more, knowing Carol wouldn't be forgetting that in a hurry. You didn't respond to that, instead shutting off your phone in hopes of getting more sleep but a minute later another text came through. You knew it would be Carol, but you still reached over to check it.

Unknown number: and Wanda gave it to me

"Dammit, Wanda." You grumbled, going to write her an angry message but Carol had something else to say.

Unknown number: I asked very nicely

You fought off a smile weakly and decided to change her contact, telling yourself it might be useful to keep it.

Jackass: You home alone?

She didn't seem to want to stop talking. Although you couldn't deny that it made you smile more when you wondered if she meant was anyone there to look after you.

You: I am, parents have to work

Jackass: want me to come over and make you feel better? ;)

Suddenly you didn't feel like talking to Carol anymore. You were sick and feeling crappy and all Carol wanted to do was fuck, she was hardly subtle about it either. If you hadn't already been thinking long and hard about what the jock could possible think of you, that would have been the moment you started to ponder it.

With your mood somehow lowered even more, you turned your phone off to go back to sleep, accidentally swiping the notification that read Jackass: * :)

"I still can't believe you gave her my number." You grumbled as you swirled the chocolaty drink in front of you.

"She did ask very nicely." Wanda grinned.

"Enough about her." You said, leaning forward on your elbows to grin back at your friend. "How's your girlfriend?"

You were on your phone when you saw a donut being pushed across the table towards you out of the corner of your eye. It was your favourite type that also happened to be the one the cafeteria rarely sold, so when it landed in front of you you looked up with a smile, expecting to see Wanda smiling knowingly back at you.

Carol grinned as she pulled out the chair opposite you and sat herself down. Your eyes flickered over to Wanda who was trying to hide her smile and look away.

"It's for you." Carol said after a second.

"What do I have to do for it?" You asked, only half joking as you eyed the treat suspiciously.

"Come on another date with me." She winked. You leaned back and looked away from Carol and the donut, displeased but not surprised. "Nothing." Carol said quickly. "You don't have to do anything, I just know that one's your favourite." The blonde said. You had never told her that. You eyed Wanda again who quickly looked away like she hadn't been watching the interaction and leaned into Natasha.

"Thank you, Danvers." You said quietly, moving the napkin that the donut was on closer to you.

"I thought we were passed that." Carol chuckled, you wanted to smile at the sound. Carol leaned down to grab something out of her rucksack as you started on the donut, not entirely sure if you should try make conversation or just run away.

"I took notes yesterday, while you were gone." The jock said as she put her notebook on the table and flicked through her badly organised pages to find the one she was looking for. You raised your eyebrows slightly in response.

You had never once seen Carol take actual notes in class, but when she spun the book around to face you you were even more surprised to see the detailed notes she had been taking, even with a couple of small diagrams at the bottom she had probably copied from the board.

"Are they okay? Wilson's pretty good at this shit I'm sure I could get him to-"

"They're great!" You interrupted. "They're...fuck, I'm sorry but since when did you take notes?" You didn't want to seem rude but it felt like you were witnessing a never before seen event or the discovery of a new species.

"Just figured you would want them." Carol shrugged and took a sandwich out her bag.

"Yeah I... thank you." You muttered and smiled when you saw a small doodle of a star. "Can I?" You asked as you motioned to your phone's camera. Carol nodded with a smile and watched as you took photos of her notes.

Wanda coughed from across the table and you shot daggers at her, knowing what she so desperately wanted to say. She hasn't done that for anyone else.

"It was sweet of her though." Wanda pointed out as her eyes stayed fixed on Natasha's form.

"It was, but you've gotten me donuts before and you don't want to date me." You said as you tried to stop your eyes trailing to Carol again as they seemed to keep doing.

"Well if Natasha wasn't here..." Wanda teased with a smile. You rolled your eyes at your friend and chuckled.

"Are Carol's abs as hard as they look?" Wanda asked randomly. You couldn't help but look up at the blonde at the mention of her name and perhaps one of your favourite things about her.

It was a hot day and her team was training hard on the field, so most of the athletes had their shirts off. Carol's abs were on full display and given the amount of core stretches she had been doing they were as prominent as ever.

"They are." You muttered, remembering the first time you ran your hands across her chest.

You heard giggling in the row behind you and turned around to see a group of girls also watching Carol and her team train. It was obvious their gazes fell on the same area yours had and suddenly you remembered the long list of names that Carol used to show off proudly.

The girl's whispers became louder as did the giggling and without realizing what you were doing you found yourself comparing you to them. They were popular, effortlessly beautiful and probably had much more experience than you ever had. You couldn't compete with that. Especially when you didn't even know why Carol wanted you. You rested your head on your knees and tried to zone out the world around you as your insecurities ate at you more.

"Come on." Wanda nudged you gently as she stood up from the bleachers. You grabbed your bag and followed after her, noticing that practice was apparently over.

Natasha was standing at the bottom of the bleachers and pulled Wanda into a tight hug. You smiled at the motion, wishing you had what they did.

"Hey." Carol said to you, her eyes shining lightly in the sun.

"Hey yourself." You nodded as you began to walk behind Wanda and Nat. Carol fell into place beside you and made you think about the height difference between you. You were convinced she could give the best piggy back rides.

"You make it look easy." You blurted out. Carol arched a perfect brow at you as she pulled her shirt over her head. "Sport." You generalized, waving your hands.

"Y/n is allergic to sport." Wanda called back.

"Is that right?" Carol smirked as she looked at you.

"It is not, it's just not my thing." You defended.

"Then what is your thing?" Carol asked curiously.

"Wouldn't you like to know." You replied as you searched your brain, not really knowing if you had a thing. Nothing serious at least.

"I would." Carol fired back.

"That's too bad." The jock smiled and decided not to push.

"I'm sure there's a sport you can do." Carol pondered.

"If there is if it could be added to the curriculum that would be really helpful." You sighed.

"Y/n L/n, are you failing a class?" Carol gasped dramatically. You groaned when Wanda laughed, confirming the blonde's assumption.

"Could be worse, I fail loads of classes and everything seems to work out okay." Carol said calmly, seemingly completely unfazed.

You reached the car park and slowed down when you saw Natasha follow Wanda to her car. Wanda was your lift to school and therefore your ride home too. You had stayed behind to study in the library and joined your friend on the bleachers when it shut to see the last of the teams training, not thinking about the fact Wanda was staying behind so she could hang out with Natasha after.

"I can give you a ride home." Carol offered as she threw her car keys up in the air and caught them easily. You pondered that for a second, you really didn't want to be a third wheel to your friend, even if it was a short drive home.

"Yeah, thanks, Danvers." Wanda gave you a knowing smile as she waved goodbye and practically ran to her car with Natasha.Yeah, definitely the best call to leave them alone.

You got into Carol's car and tried to ignore all the memories you had of being in the backseat, instead resting your arm against the window to try and keep your focus on that. Carol didn't say much as you drove which surprised you. She seemed deep in thought about something and you couldn't help but wonder what.

"You want to come to mine?" She said suddenly. You froze in your seat before answering.

"Just my place will do. For me only! I mean I... I have homework." You rambled and felt your whole face heat up. You wondered if being in a car with Wanda and Natasha jumping each other could possibly be more uncomfortable than being sat with Carol and trying to decline her advances.

"I could help." She offered, seemingly genuinely.

"I can handle it." You forced a laugh. Carol nodded and didn't say anything else until she pulled up to your house.

"Thanks again, Danvers." You smiled at the blonde as you hauled you bag up and opened the door.

"I'm always happy to help you out, y/n." Carol smiled back your way genuinely and your stomach did a little flip.

You hummed to yourself quietly as you made your way through the school corridors and opened the double doors to the library. You smiled to the librarian as always and got a limited response but your smile faltered when you saw your usual table was taken... by Carol.

She was in her training attire and scrolling mindlessly through her phone until she glanced up and saw you. "Hey." She smiled.

"Are you lost?" You asked as you walked towards her slowly.

"No and go get changed." Was all she said as she pushed a bag of school gym clothes towards you.

"And why would I do that?" You sighed as you peered into the bag.

"Y/n," Carol started as she tilted her chair back and rested her hands behind her head with her feet on the table, her usual confident smile playing on her lips. "Does it or does it not absolutely kill you that you're failing a class?" You paused before flicking yours eyes up to her. Yes, it absolutely did.

"And am I or am I not the best athlete in the school?" Also hard to argue with. You shifted on your feet.

"Come on, y/n. I promise I'll help you at least pass the class." Carol said with certainty. You chewed your gum as you thought about it.

"What do you get out of it?" You asked as you narrowed your eyes at the blonde.

"I can go to sleep at night knowing I've helped an underling." She grinned. You rolled your eyes but couldn't help but smile at her, Carol continued to smile back at you.

"That A* you got us on that project made me pass the class." Carol shrugged.

"Alright, Danvers." You nodded and picked up the bag. "But no funny business."

"Great!" She exclaimed and took her feet off the table to stand up.

"I'll see you in the main hall in 10."

Barely ten minutes into Carol's 'warm ups' you were already out of breath and in need of a break. You glared at her every time she barked orders at you with a grin, clearly enjoying bossing you around.

"Catch!" Carol exclaimed as she hauled a basketball at you. You ducked out the way and watched it fly past your head.

"You trying to kill me?!" Carol was bent over laughing at your exasperation and inability to catch a simple ball.

"Shut the fuck up, Danvers." You huffed but managed to hit the second ball that came your way.

"You really are allergic to sports huh?" She teased as you scowled at her. "Okay, let's start with the basics."

Surprisingly, from that point onward Carol wasn't that bad. She gave you a lot of pointers that honestly proved helpful because you slowly started to improve. Granted, you were still bad, but you were better.

"Arms like this." She instructed and watched as you mimicked her shooting position. "Elbows a little higher." You did as she said but she smiled at the attempt and stepped behind you. You froze up a little when she put her hands over yours and lifted them up too to a position that felt more natural.

"You got it." She assured, speaking right next to your ear so you could feel her breath against your skin. Then she withdrew her soft hands from yours and backed away. You missed the contact immediately.

"Now shoot." She instructed. You missed.

Carol trained you after school pretty much every day after that. Your limbs always ached after those sessions, so much so you were tempted to cave and take Carol up on her offer of a back rub.

You found that some sports were actually kind of fun to play with Carol, whether it was the absence of the pressure you got in a full class of teenagers or just because you enjoyed the blonde's company, it wasn't all that bad.

You still couldn't find a sport you were good at, but you didn't really care. You wondered what would happen when you did. Would Carol coach you at it for a bit then abandon your sessions? They couldn't keep going forever. The pang you got in your chest was the reason you had been ignoring Carol weeks prior, you didn't want to feel that for her. You just couldn't help it.

"Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night." You recalled as Valkyrie wrote it down.

"I knew it was something like that." She waved off.

"Yeah you were really close with..." You glanced at her notes. "She gives me a boner." You laughed and put your face in your hand.

"That's the modern day translation!" Valkyrie exclaimed defensively.

"Please don't put that in your exam." You sighed as you flicked through your copy of Romeo and Juliet to find the next act.

"One sec." Valkyrie said as she looked down at her phone that was vibrating on the desk with a caller ID that you couldn't read.

"Hey, Captain." Valkyrie answered. You looked her way and back at your book quickly. There was more than one Captain in the school.

"I'm in the library studying." She continued and paused for the other voice to speak. "It's not that bad, a pretty girl's teaching me Romeo and Juliet." Valkyrie winked at you and you smiled weakly back, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. Fucking jocks and their shameless flirtation.

"Yeah I'll be done soon, see you then." She said and hung up the phone before turning back to you.

"Are there any quotes about boners?" The minutes after that went by painstakingly slowly. It was only a one off tutoring session that you would get an extra credit for, but you could think of a million things you would rather be doing with your lunch break.

Valkyrie nodded past you at someone at the library entrance. You turned around out of instinct and saw Carol strolling towards your table, eyes focused on you.

"Thanks for this." Valkyrie said as she packed away her things. "If I pass the exam I'm gonna have to find some way to make it up to you." She smirked as her eyes trailed over your legs.

You glanced at Carol who looked far from pleased at Valkyrie's comment and couldn't help but smile because that is exactly what she sounded like to you sometimes.

"That's okay." You muttered as you tried to avoid her gaze and put your books back in your bag.

"Alright, but I'm having a party this weekend. You should come."

"I'm not really a party person." You laughed awkwardly, wanting the encounter to be over.

"You don't have to spend long at the party itself." Valkyrie shrugged as she took a bold step towards you. "You could always stay in my room-"

"She said no." Carol cut in. Her eyes bore into Valkyrie's with a look that said the conversation was over. Her stance was firm and her jaw was tightly locked as she glared at her team mate. Valkyrie frowned and looked back at you as you fiddled with your bag zip and avoided her eye, silently thanking Carol even if she had been a tad aggressive.

"Right, sorry." Valkyrie muttered before making her way past you. Carol gave you a small smile before turning to leave with her team mate. You were sure Wanda would have something to say about that.

It was a few days until you saw Carol again. She had texted you to briefly say she had practice after school and you didn't see her at lunch breaks either. It annoyed you to admit you missed her company.

With every second you spent with the jock your crush on her grew. You knew that any longer and you may just end up head over heals for her which would only end in heart break for you. But every time you saw the wisp of blonde hair, shine of brown eyes with her confident smile or even just that god damn varsity jacket, you didn't care about how it could end.

It was a Thursday when she texted you during lunch to ask if you wanted to practice after school. You replied a little too eagerly with a yes and continued listening to Wanda rant about something dumb Pietro had done.

A few hours later you held a bat in your hands and prepared for Carol to throw the ball your way. She wasn't very talkative that day, a rarity for the blonde. You wanted to ask if something was up with her but the concentrated look on her face made you not want to disrupt her train of thought.

"I'm sorry." She said suddenly.

"That's alright." You sighed as you watched the ball roll across the field. That was a particularly fast throw.

"About snapping in the library." Carol corrected. "I didn't mean to make it awkward." She said as she scratched the back or her neck then stretched her arm to throw again.

"You didn't." You assured honestly. "I was already uncomfortable." You huffed as you missed another throw from Carol even after trying to apply all her tips.

"Val can be quite persistent." Carol said, still not showing her smile.

"Just like someone else I know." You shrugged. Carol faltered at the obvious call out.

"Lets switch." She said quietly and handed you her glove as she took the bat from you. She explained to you the basics of her own throwing techniques and had a few recommendations on what she thought might work best for you.

"If you ever told me no, I'd back off." Carol said as put the bat up. You were thrown off by the sudden shift in conversation.

"I know you would have." You hoped Carol noticed your use of past tense. You had already decided that sex with her again would be too dangerous for you. God only knows what you would end up blurting out. You cringed at the thought of confessing your love for Carol as she fucked you.

Your eyes shifted to the track team that were doing their laps around another part of the field. They made it look as easy as always.

"You got eyes for one of them, y/n?" Carol asked in a voice that seemed more curious than teasing.

"Not my type." You muttered as you threw the ball weakly again.

"What is your type?" Carol asked, unable to mask her curiosity that time.

"I don't know." You huffed. The blonde looked at you expectantly, clearly hoping for something more. "And what's your type, Danvers?" You asked, successfully shifting the conversation when you saw a glint in Carol's eyes. Her smile returned.

"Eh, about (your height), (your eye colour) eyes, terrible at sport but really cute so it's dorky." Carol shrugged. Damn, that could almost be me. You glanced up at the blonde to throw again and saw her smirking at you.

"Someone should warn her." You joked in a feeble attempt to hide your disappointment that we swelling in the pit of your stomach.

"I just did." Wait... Carol's smirk grew as she watched the realization spread across your face. You blushed deeply and tried to fight off a smile.

"I don't think baseball's working either." You muttered.

"You know it's strange, I always thought you were going to become a jock." Pietro said thoughtfully before taking a bite of his apple.

"First of all how dare you and secondly what the hell gave you that idea?" You exclaimed. Wanda was giggling besides you while Carol gave you a look of faux offence.

"That's the highest compliment!" She argued.

"I second that." Natasha nodded.

"Do you remember Wanda's 14th birthday party?" Pietro asked.

"It's a treasured memory." You grinned at Wanda. "I kicked your ass at bowling." You recalled proudly.

"You kicked everyone's ass at it. Bowling's a sport isn't it?" Apparently word had spread about Carol's private lessons. You and the blonde had spent weeks going back and forth between different sports. Overall, you were still pretty crap but you had been lifted to a passing grade in the class. You kept meaning to tell Carol that, but you didn't want the lessons to end. You concluded that as long as she didn't ask, you wouldn't tell.

"I'd say so." Wanda shrugged but Carol and Natasha clearly had different opinions.

"Fuck no!"

"Please do not align that with us!" They erupted. You and Wanda started to laugh at their outraged expression, never knowing something to piss a jock off more.

The sound of the bell overhead was followed by a few groans from those around the table as you all packed up and left the table. At least it was a Friday. You wandered across the field on your usual route of going round the main buildings to avoid the crowded corridors, lost in your thoughts until someone jogged up besides you.

"Bowling, huh?" She inquired as she slowed down to a walk.

"It's been years." You said offhandedly.

"You got plans tomorrow?"

"Nope."

"We should go bowling, if you want to. Obviously just as part of your lessons." Carol offered as she looked ahead.

"I thought you said it isn't a sport." You eyed the blonde suspiciously with a smile.

"It isn't, but this I have to see."

"Okay." You nodded without much thought. Bowling with the jock did sound fun.

"I'll pick you up at 2."

"These shoes are ridiculous." Carol grumbled.

"American football shoulder pads are ridiculous but you don't hear me calling that out." You fired back.

"Oh, so that was meant at someone else?"

"Sure." You shrugged as you smiled at Carol's brightly coloured shoes. You went onto your lane and gleamed at the nostalgic sound of pins being knocked over and the bright spot lights across the lanes.

Carol put your names into the scoreboard tablet as you ran your hands over the bowling balls and frowned slightly as you realized you still had to use one of the smaller ones.

"Experts first." Carol motioned to the beginning of the lane with a small smirk and you smiled back at her excitedly and grabbed a ball.

"Just remember it's been a while!" You called back to the eagerly watching blonde. She hummed back. You brought the ball up to your chest to have a feel of the weight and glared at the pins, there had to be something you could impress Carol with. With a deep breath, you swung your arm back and forward to let the ball go, center down the lane and colliding with the painted targets. All but one knocked over and you couldn't help but throw tour hands up in the air in triumph.

"That was pretty good!" You declared as you turned back to Carol happily. She beamed back at you, giving you a smile that made her eyes squint and look absolutely adorable.

You grabbed the second ball and rolled it smoothly across the polished floor, successfully hitting the last pin. Carol strolled up after you, her hands hovering over the range in front of her and landing on one for someone with a bigger hand. You scoffed quietly, not believing the jock could hold it but she picked it up with ease.

You stood, wide eyed, watched as she sauntered over to the lane and swung her arm. The ball veered off to the side and took down a couple of pins that Carol glared at.

"Unlucky is all." She grumbled as she went to get another ball. This time when she threw it it fell into the dip along the side, it was hard to hide your amusement.

"That's just bullshit." Carol grumbled.

"Do you want me to put the sides up for you, Danvers? Or maybe I could ask someone for that ramp." You teased. She flipped you off and went to sit on the small sofa and watched you carefully.

You knocked most of the pins over on your next few goes while Carol got very little. You tried to give her a few tips but apparently her ego was too big to accept them, which meant you were winning marginally.

You spun around to face the blonde after knocking the last of your pins over but she wasn't on her spot on the sofa. You were about to get your phone out to text her but you spotted her sauntering back towards your area with a bowl of nachos. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Carol gave a dramatic huff as she spotted the scoreboard and beckoned you over to the small table by the sofas. "We'll start a new round after these." She said as she put them on the table. "I didn't poison them." She quipped when you didn't move.

"Sometimes I think you'd do anything to win." You replied as you sat down opposite her and took one of the nachos. In all honesty you weren't expecting Carol to get the snack, never mind to want to share it.

Carol flexed her right hand absent mindedly as she glanced around at over areas of the alley. "Your hand hurting?" You asked as you took another nacho with a lot of cheese on it.

"A little." She shrugged and lifted it up to look at the back of her mind. Without thinking, you put your hand and pressed it gently flat against hers. Not only were her fingers longer than yours but her palm was bigger too, even her wrist was thicker. It was only when you caught Carol's eye that you went to bring your hand away but she laced her fingers through yours and put them down on the table.

"Sorry, I was just curious." You blushed even though it was clear Carol didn't mind.

"Okay." She chuckled as she continued on the nachos. You finished the rest of the snack in silence with your hands still together until you leaned back and glanced at the lane again.

"Ready to have your ass kicked again?" You quipped.

"Don't get cocky, kid." Carol mused as she rolled her eyes with a smile.

"Since when did you know Star Wars?" You asked in complete disbelief.

"I love Star Wars." Carol said casually. "And since always."

"I didn't take you for the type." You smiled as you tried to study the jock for any signs of a lie.

"That's just because you never asked." She shrugged and stood up, letting your hands slide apart. You missed the contact instantly but that didn't distract you enough from her words.

Of course you had never asked her something like that, Star Wars was the last thing you'd guess she would like. You knew there was always more to people than what they showered publicly, but Carol had always seemed like such an open book in every way. So hearing that she wasn't quite what you thought she was, even after the few months of knowing her better, simply made you impossibly more interested in the blonde. You stared at Carol in nothing short of awe, she was really something else.

"I've had enough of these shoes." She declared.

"You quitting on me Danvers?" You quipped but really your heart dropped at the thought she wanted to cut your outing short.

"I'm just thinking we could try our hand at a few other things, seeing as we're not doing sport anymore." She said as she nodded towards the arcade.

Your eyes lit up at all the games in the entrance as you found your competitiveness returning. You both returned your shoes and practically ran over to the arcade area with all its choices. You decided to head towards the air hockey first as you argued over whether or not it was a sport. Carol, of course, took the opposition.

Your reflexes weren't as good as hers but you liked to think you put up a good fight, even if you did curse under your breath every time the blonde scored. The screen above you both lit up to declare Carol's victory that she was very happy to celebrate, you watched as she danced around the table towards you in what could have been the dorkiest thing you had ever seen.

"You having fun there?" You laughed.

"So much fun." Carol grinned back and eyed her next target.

"Absolutely not!" You cried out when her eyes landed on the basketball. You took her by the hand and tried your best to ignore the electricity running up your arms at how perfectly her hand fit in yours and led her through the arcade. You came to a halt by a racing game and before you could even suggest the idea to Carol she was clambering into the seat and shoving the coins into the machine. You sat down next to her and did the same. You were both terrible. The controls were slightly broken and far too sensitive, making the cars on screen spin around when you tried to turn and never going straight.

"Piece of garbage!" Carol shouted at the screen as you passed the finish line by some miracle.

"Wanna go again?" You asked with a grin but the blonde was already jumping off the seat.

"Now this I have to win." Carol declared as she spotted the nearest shooting game. It was some kind of zombies in space crossover but you didn't much question that when you picked up the plastic gun.

"We work together on this, Danvers." You laughed.

"Count yourself lucky then." Carol said as she aimed her gun at the screen as the game started.

"The fact that you didn't know how it works doesn't make me all that confident in you." You pointed out as you started firing at the horde of zombies. You didn't see one that was charging at you from the left but Carol shot it down before it reached you.

"You're welcome." She smirked then shot some more on your right. "Come on, y/n I'm doing all the work here."

"Fuck yourself, Danvers." You fired back as you tried to reload your gun.

"Fuck me yourself you coward." She challenged. Your mouth went dry but you started to laugh. She didn't make the comment with her usual smirk and suggestive tone, instead it seemed like a genuine joke that you didn't get anxious about.

"That would be a first." You quipped with a smile. You managed to take the last few zombies.

"It really would be, I am a virgin after all." She said casually and you dropped your gun. "Oh shit, here we go!" Carol laughed as the zombie boss made its dramatic entrance.

"Wait what?" You stammered as you looked between Carol and the screen while trying to get a grip on the plastic gun.

"What? No one's ever fucked me. I fuck girls, they don't fuck me back." She shrugged simply and started rapid firing at the boss.

"Maybe you should stop being exclusive to pillow princesses." You joked in a feeble attempt to mask your surprise.

"Maybe, it's not just that." She started. It confused you that she could say something so out of character while keeping most of her attention on the screen. "I don't trust any of them. I don't know, it's just, when it comes down to it, I freak out." Carol tried to explain but seemed to struggle.

"Damn." She sighed when the screen presented 'Game Over' in an overtly bloody text. You wandered away from the booth as you thought about what Carol said. She had a content smile on her face as she looked around and you figured the conversation was over.

"I love these." You told the blonde when you came across a Wac A Mole machine. You put the coins in and lifted up the rubber mallet as you kept your eyes on the board. The first one sprung up in front of you and Carol announced its presence with a cry.

"Thank you, Danvers." You smiled after hitting the figure.

"There!" She pointed to the next one, and the next one until you shouldered her out the way, not expecting her to actual wander off. When the game was over you grinned in triumph and looked to Carol for her praise but she wasn't near by. With a frown, you ventured around the arcade and found the jock hunched over a claw machine.

"These things eat you money, you know?" You half joked but to your surprise Carol dropped a small teddy bear into the box.

"And how long did that take you?" You teased as she picked it up.

"Its for you." You ran your thumb over the left paw that had a heart over it and smiled back at the jock who kept surprising you.

"Thank you, Carol." She nodded and the pair of you started to walk out the arcade and main building. Much to your surprise it was starting to get dark and there were few cars in the car park. You guessed the place would be closing soon but you hadn't realized you had been there so long. Time always seemed to fly by with Carol.

"How long were we even..." You started to laugh lightly until you turned to Carol and realized how close together you were. Your breath hitched when your eyes locked with her own that seemed to be looking back at you with something you couldn't quite pinpoint.

"Can I kiss you?" You whispered gently. You licked your lips and nodded slowly.

Her other hand rested on your cheek as her thumb caressed the smooth skin slightly and finally closed the distance entirely.

You had kissed Carol before, but never like that. It was slow and longing and gentle and you reciprocated in an instant, matching the rhythm she set. You brought you hands up to Carol's neck and cherished the moment of feeling connected to her in the way you had been craving before you pulled apart.

"It's only our second date, Danvers." You couldn't help but quip, not knowing what to say in such an unfamiliar scenario.

"Well this second date has taken a lot of work to get." Carol pointed out and you laughed as you continued to hold her close.

"I was scared." You admitted.

"You don't have to be scared with me." Carol assured gently.

"You mean it? You really..."

"I really love you." She confirmed.

"That's lucky for me, because I love you too." You smiled and brought Carol in for another kiss that she happily encouraged.

"So... more dates?" Carol asked with a laugh, clearly not all that familiar with the procedure either. You would work it out quickly.

"Yeah Carol." You chuckled.

"That I still have to work hard for?" She half joked.

"Not if we're girlfriends." The blonde laughed more at that.

"I'm glad to hear I've upgraded from just your favourite jock.

"You're always going to be my favourite jock too." You assured and kissed Carol once more.

Carol kissed a path down your stomach and smiled against your skin as she felt you shiver. Even after weeks of dating you still weren't used to her kisses, especially not across your more sensitive areas of skin.

"I got you." She whispered as she hooked her fingers over your pajama bottoms and panties and pulled them down together, kissing the newly found skin. You shivered more as her breath ghosted over your clit making you whine and buck your hips up. Carol smiled at your reaction and leaned down not before whispering "God, you're beautiful.

She wrapped her full lips around your clit and reveled in the moan that spilled from your lips. Her tongue dipped between your folds and she moaned at the sweet taste that invaded her taste buds.

You wrapped your hands in Carol's long blonde hair to bring her closer but she pulled away with a smirk. Before you could whine in protest she pulled her own trousers down to reveal a strap you hadn't seen before. It was different in shape and colour but the most noticeable different was the absence of the harness. You moaned softly at the realization it was anchored inside her.

"I want to feel it with you." Carol said as she lowered herself back towards you and placed her hands either side of your head and kissed your neck.

"Are you sure?" You asked tentatively. It would be the first time Carol had been on the receiving end to such a level. The most you had done was go down on her a few times.

"Yes, I trust you. I love you." She grinned and lined the strap up with your entrance.

"I love you too." You had really started to enjoy saying that to her.

You moaned breathlessly as Carol inched the strap into you carefully and kissed along your jaw more. She moaned with you when she bottomed out and felt the strap dig deeper into her. Her hips twitched as she took a moment to gather her own composure and held your hands above your head, your fingers intertwined.

"I got you." You assured back to her as she started to pull out and push back in. Carol moaned loudly in response and held you closer to her as she started to build up a rhythm, your thigh slapping together.

You moaned in sync as the strap pleasured you both more and more. You wrapped your legs tightly around your girlfriend's waist to push the strap deeper inside you both.

You shuddered every time Carol's skin met yours. Carol started thrusting the toy faster and harder as she chased her own release.

"It's so good!" You cried out. You both struggled to form words, only managing breathless moans as the strap pressed firmly against your g-spots in sync.

"Me too, fuck, please Carol. Cum with me." You pleaded and gave a strangled moan. Carol shuddered and moaned louder than you had ever heard as she came undone at the same time as you.

"Y/n." Your girlfriend shuddered and started to grind her hips against yours as she rode out her high with you.

"It's okay, I got you." You said as you held onto Carol's bare back. You held her close to you as she breathed heavily against your neck, the irregular patterns starting to even out. She was still shaking so you planted soft kissed across the patches of her face that weren't hidden in your neck as you stroked her hair, a content smile on your lips.

She adjusted herself slightly and the pair of you moaned softly when she eased the toy out and put it on the floor. "I'll clean it later." She whispered, eyes closed, before you could say anything.

"Okay." You chuckled and brought her closer to you. You wrapped your arms around one another as your legs tangled together under the sheets.

Carol's soft breath caressed your skin as you stroked her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead. A faint smile played across her lips at the action, confirming that she was just as happy as you were.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Taglist: @caroldanvers2 @marvelwomenslut @marvelwomen-simp @likefirenrain @grxvitye @emilyprentisslittlewhore @lostandsearching @firenrain13 @horcruxhunter90 @wndrcarol

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#carol danvers #captain marvel #brie larson #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel imagines #carol danvers imagines #carol danvers x reader #marvel #jock!carol

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨1

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) nothing as yet.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Yay, mob Clark. And I know what you’re saying right now, enough with Clark Kent! I get it haha. Promise, for a while, this will be the last I do of him. I have Lee fic in the work right now, the early development of medieval Peter, and I’m still sitting on some Loki ft. an exchange student... and then all my other series of course!

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You stood against the wall, chewing your lip as you looked around the gallery. You should be ecstatic, you should be floating around on a cloud, but all you could feel was crushing anxiety. It was truly a dream come true; your art hanging on the wall. Only three pieces, but it was there, and your name was below it in print.

You tugged on the waist of your dress and teetered in your heels. It was a borrowed outfit, you couldn’t afford anything appropriate to the upscale venue. The classic starving artist, or almost. You slipped your phone from your purse and up your sleeve. You subtly checked the time and for the little chat icon in the corner. Still no message.

Marcus was almost an hour late. He texted just after the event opened to warn you he was caught up with work but you worried he wouldn’t show up at all. It wasn’t his fault his boss was a jackass but you weren’t prepared to face this alone. You dropped your phone back into your slender purse and snapped it shut.

Vanessa, the gallery owner, made you flinch as she appeared almost out of the air. You smiled at her shyly and stopped chewing your lip.

“You should mingle,” she said, “you have an interested buyer. You might have a few more if you come out from the corner.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so nervous,” you confessed, “I-- thank you so much for this opportunity.”

“You earned it,” she touched your arm daintily, “all those hard hours working the back room, I couldn’t not hang a few pieces.”

You fixed your posture and tried to seem as confident as her. Your income came solely from hours of at-home data entry as you volunteered at the gallery in your few hours between. It was all worth it and maybe if you sold something tonight, Vanessa would feature you work again and you wouldn’t need to spend the bulk of your days staring at tiny font.

“So, where’s this buyer?” you asked hopefully.

“That’s my girl,” Vanessa trilled, “he seems very interested.”

She led you across the room, stopping to greet other artists and old friends with a kiss on the cheek and deep laughter. You’d met them all before as you were often working at these events. It was your first time as one of them.

When at last you neared your little stretch of the wall, a man stood with his head slightly back as he stared at your proto-renaissance portraits. He was tall and his broad shoulders strained the rich fabric of his jacket. His dark hair was neatly parted and a slight curl marked the front above the shadow of scruff poking out along his jawline.

“Mr. Kent,” Vanessa chimed, “I found her.”

He turned to look at you and his deep blue eyes struck you. He smiled between you and the gallery owner, his chiseled jaw even more defined by the gesture.

“This is Mr. Kent,” she introduced you in turn, “I believe he was interested in the larger piece.”

“All three, if you don’t have another buyer lined up,” he intoned, “I think they belong together.”

“All of them?” you raised your brows, “well, I, yeah, I guess--”

“We can put something together for you,” Vanessa interrupted your awkward stuttering, “let me just mark them.”

She took the silver pen she kept on a chain around her wrist and scribbled in the corner of the tags to mark them as sold. You were slightly numb at your disbelief. You were a bit reluctant to part with your work but the check would ease your grief.

“The way you use colours,” he said as he faced the paintings again, “I’ve recently had some work done in my house and I hate the sight of naked walls.”

“Thank you,” you said as you stepped a little closer and looked at your delicate strokes.

“Pardon me,” Vanessa rushed away as she beckoned to one of her assistants and prattled orders.

“Vanessa tells me you’re a new artist,” he said.

“New in a sense,” you said, “I guess, I’m officially an artist now.”

“Oh? I’m flattered. Your first buyer?”

“Besides some online fanart, yeah,” you replied, “so, Mr. Kent, what do you do?”

“Clark,” he corrected, “and a little bit of everything.”

An awkward silence took over and was thankfully interrupted by your name. You turned as Marcus rushed over and his shoes slipped on the polished floor. He reached you and kissed your cheek as he caught his breath.

“I’m so sorry, I got caught in traffic on the way over and then my oil light started flashing,” he gasped out.

“Hey, you’re here,” you rubbed his shoulder and straightened his tie without thinking as it hung at an angle.

“So, you sell anything yet?” he asked.

“Yes, actually, um, Mr-- Clark,” you gestured to the man standing patiently to the side, “he just bought all three.”

“Damn,” Marcus said, “guess I can hold onto my savings.”

“Marc,” you nudged his arm with your knuckles, “you know we can’t afford your cheesiness.”

“Sorry, uh,” Marcus laughed at himself, “I’m Marcus.”

He held out his hand and Clark shook it. His eyes strayed to you as his features sharpened just a little.

“You two…?” he ventured.

“Five years,” Marcus announced, “guess we’re going steady.”

“Oh,” Clark nodded placidly, “are you an artist too?”

“God no, I can hardly write my own name legibly,” Marcus kidded, “I’m a developer.”

“Computers,” Clark mused.

“Yeah, computers,” Marcus scoffed, “and you?”

“Own a couple businesses,” Clark shrugged.

“Must be successful if you can hang around here,” Marcus said and you elbowed him in embarrassment.

“I guess,” Clark smoothed his dark purple jacket and checked his watch, “I’ll let you two be. Maybe I’ll find something to go with these fine pieces.”

“Thank you,” you said sweetly, “I’m happy to see my work go to a good home.”

“I hope to see more in future,” he returned kindly.

He turned and carried on to the statue constructed of can tabs and greeted another suited man. You looked at Marcus as he leaned in to read the tags beneath your paintings. He stood and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Holy shit, ten grand?” he hissed.

“Pretty good pay for one night,” you chirped, “glad you could make it.”

“Sorry again, I… I had to redo some code. Adam was in a mood so,” he shook his head and sighed, “let’s not talk about it. Let’s celebrate.” He peeked over at the server with a tray of stemmed flutes, “and you can decide what you’re going to buy me with that check.”

“Hush,” you chided as you took a glass of champagne, “now is not the time to go over bills.”

🎨

At the end of the night, you watched one of the assistants take down your canvas and you helped wrap them in paper and twine. As you finished a loopy knot, you were surprised by the figure beside you. You looked up and set the smallest piece atop the larger ones. Clark smiled as you moved to let him pick them up.

“All yours,” you said, almost mournful to see them go.

“Thanks,” he said as he tucked them easily under his thick arm, “I forgot earlier but do you have a card? Are you open for commissions?”

“You must have a lot of walls,” you looked down and opened your purse, “I have a card and I could try a commission.”

You slid out one of the cards that had lingered in your wallet for more than a year. You handed it to him and he read the flowery font before tucking it away in his jacket.

“I do… have a lot of walls,” he said with a smirk, “I’ll give you a call once these are hung.”

“O-okay,” you kept from wringing your hands and closed your purse, “thank you… again.”

“My pleasure,” assured, “have a good night.”

“Yeah, good night,” you said and watched him go.

You let out a breath and smiled to yourself. You would talk to Vanessa and get your cut of the check before you went. Then you could worry about getting Marcus home. He’d had a little too much champagne and you��d left him in the backroom so you could help with the clean-up.

Vanessa bid goodbye to one of her featured artists as you neared. She turned to you and threw up her hands in delight.

“Wonderful, darling,” she said, “you earned that wall.”

“Thanks,” you grinned bashfully.

“Really. That man has never bought a piece before,” she smirked, “I’ve been dying to get into his wallet for years.”

“I never saw him before…”

“Oh, well, yes, he has not been to many of these either. I often see him at other galleries,” she explained, “I hope you have some more for the next.”

“Um, yeah, I should be able to--”

“I’ll have the check for you tomorrow,” she patted your shoulder as her eye was caught by another, “go get your boyfriend out of my studio.”

You accepted your dismissal and turned on your heel. That was just Vanessa, steely but slightly flighty as well. Besides, you were exhausted and you would likely be dragging Marcus into a cab.

You found him slumped at the paint-splattered table. You shook him awake and smiled dopily as he opened his eyes.

“Babe,” he pushed his arm around you.

“Marcus,” you drawled in disappointment, “let’s get out of here.”

“Huh?” He looked around and hiccupped, “oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. You had a long day,” you assured him as you rubbed his back and let him lean on you as he stood, “I’m just happy you showed up after all that nonsense.”

“Of course, babe,” he slurred and you helped him through the door.

You kept your head down as you slowly sneaked out past Vanessa but you didn’t miss her side-eye. It was best to be as covert as possible. You came out through the door and nearly dropped Marcus.

“Jesus, can I get a little help?” you snipped as you looked around for a yellow cab.

“Sorry, baby, sorry,” he got his feet flat but it hardly helped take his weight off of you.

You raised your hand to hail a cab and he slipped down your arm. Your ankle bent as you turned to try to catch him before you dropped him entirely. He was saved from hitting the ground as he was caught by another. You looked over his head as he was pushed up to his feet again.

Clark kept his arm behind Marcus as you stared at him, “oh my god, thank you.”

“No problem,” he said as he steadied your boyfriend, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied as you lifted your foot and kept the weight off your ankle, “I just need to get a taxi.” You raised your hand again as you tried to see past the large man, “if you don’t mind getting him in--”

“You can ride with me,” he said brusquely as he turned with Marcus and peered back at you, “this way.”

“We can’t--”

“On that ankle,” he said as you began to limp after him, “you won’t get him out on your own.”

“Really, I’m fine--”

“I don’t mind,” he said coolly as he came to a silver sports car and balanced Marcus against him as he opened the door, “I’ll need an address.”

“Uh, oh,” you folded your hands, “thank you. Really, you’ve done too much.”

“It happens. I’ve had these nights,” he put Marcus across the seat and folded his legs up and shut the door, “you can take the front and tell me where I’m going.”

You hesitated and he opened the front door. You neared and hissed as you stumbled on your ankle. You caught yourself on his arm and quickly retracted your hand as you apologized.

“It’s alright,” he said as you sat in the front seat. He knelt and gently took your ankle. His thumb rubbed the swollen joint, “you really banged yourself up.”

“I’ll be okay,” you assured him, “thanks.”

He let go and stood. He waited for you to turn your legs into the car and gently closed the door. He rounded to the other side and got in as he fished around for his keys. He turned the engine and gripped the wheel with one hand as he took out his phone. He placed it on the magnetic holder and his fingers flicked over the screen.

“Address?” he asked.

You recited it and winced as Siri responded, ‘calculating route’. You shrunk against the luxury leather and glanced at him. He let out a huff and steered into the mostly empty street.

“I’m sorry about all this--”

“No, don’t be,” he glanced in the rearview, “he must be happy for you.”

“Yeah, uh, I think he is,” you said as he followed the map directions, “I am too. I mean, it will go along way… uh, well, you know, things can be tough or--” you shrugged, “I mean, it’s not about the money.”

“Yeah, but it’s nice to be paid,” he said lightly, “and I don’t mind paying for good art.”

You looked out the window as your cheeks burned. You could smell his cologne, subtle but strong. You played with your purse as your nerves brewed in your chest. You watched the sidewalks and the street lights as your surroundings grew more familiar.

He pulled up to your building. It wasn’t the greatest area and the brick façade was faded and cracked. Before you could get out, he was at your door. He offered his hand and helped you out as you leaned on the car. He let you go and opened the back and lifted Marcus out. He hooked your boyfriend’s arm over his shoulder and offered his other arm.

“Come on,” he said.

“Look, you don’t-- there’s an elevator.”

“I’d feel better if I got you inside,” he insisted, “especially in this area.”

You relented and took his arm and limped beside him up the steps. You took out your keys and went ahead of him as he dragged Marcus in. You went to the elevator and hit the button. The doors glided open and you stepped inside. He stood close in the small metal box and Marcus murmured dumbly at his side.

The doors dinged and he let you out first. He followed you down the hall and you unlocked your apartment and waved him inside. He carried Marcus to the couch at your direction and you leaned against the armchair as you bent your leg to check your ankle.

“You should put some ice on that,” Clark said as he neared, “get some sleep yourself.”

“Yeah, I will,” you assured, “thank you, again.”

You felt embarrassed as you eyed his expensive suit and looked around your tiny apartment. It must have been laughable to him. He hardly seem bothered as he retreated to the door.

“I’ll let you then,” he said, “and thank you. I really do like your work.”

The door shut in his stead and you heard his footsteps down the long hall until the door at the end swung open. You glanced at Marcus and shook your head. You weren’t as happy to have had him at the show then.

#clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #fic #series #mob au #mob!au #mob!clark kent #portrait of a dangerous man #dark fic #dark!fic #superman #au #dc #dcu

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horrorxweasley · 3 years

Text

No.1 Dad George Weasley x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, pregnant Reader!

Word Count: 1.3K

Prompt(s) used: none

Summary: George and Y/N have been married for 3 years, they have always wanted kids but are happy living their lives together as a married couple, Y/N finds out her period is 3 weeks late.

Masterlist

Y/N and George have been happily married for 3 years now. They had their wedding at the burrow in the same tent that Bill and Fleur had gotten married in. It was a night filled with dancing and laughter, the best night of their lives.

George and Y/N have always wanted children, even before they got married they had been talking about having children with each other for the longest time. Although they have been pretty laid back about actively trying to have a kid, wanting to enjoy their marriage for the time being together as a married couple.

The past few weeks Y/N had seen nothing but mothers and their children walking through Diagon Alley and she felt her heart melt every time. Oh how she was starting to become desperate for a baby, their laughs and smiles, even their cries made her want to just go and grab one and give it a big hug. Of course that would be creepy to do so, so she refrained herself and went about her days.

George was working this Saturday so Y/N had the full day to herself. She woke up quite late with a lovely note from her husband which read:

You looked too peaceful to wake up this morning, have a nice day off my love and I’ll see you soon

G x

She smiled and put the note down going to the bathroom to get ready for the day ahead, she had a few errands to the shops for a few groceries, but for the rest of the day, it was couch and movie time.

Before heading out she looked at her calendar to see if she had any meetings the following week with work, however found nothing, a part form a day 3 weeks ago that was marked in red, the colour she always used to mark the days she was meant to start her period. Her cycle was not 1, not 2, but 3 weeks late. Her brows furrowed trying to remember that far back, maybe she did have her period and she just hadn’t remembered, then it hit her, 3 weeks ago was her and George’s wedding anniversary, which they ‘celebrated’. Her eyes went wide, without hesitating she quickly got her shoes on and practically ran out the house to a pharmacy.

Once in the pharmacy Y/N went straight to the isle where they kept their pregnancy tests, she bought 4 of them, all different kinds, just to make sure that they were all accurate enough. She left the pharmacy and rushed back home, groceries could wait, she had to find out if what she suspected was true.

Fumbling with her keys, opening and slamming the door shut. Y/N can’t recall the last time she had ever moved so fast, but she practically ran at full speed to the bathroom, laying out all the tests, reading the instructions.

The few minutes where she had to wait for each of the results to come through were the longest minutes of her life. She began to overthink every little thing. What if George didn’t want kids just yet? Would he be happy? Can they afford to have children? Her doubts and thoughts were pushed aside as she heard her timer going off, indicating that it was time.

Y/N brought a her shaking hands out in font of her to where the tests were, she picked the first two up, her eyes fixed on the mirror before her, staring into her own eyes which now had tears brimming, threatening to fall to her cheeks. She looked down at the tests.

Positive.

The other two tests read the same. She was pregnant with George’s child, the love of her life, her husband. They were going to be parents. Y/N felt the salty liquid fall form her eyes onto her cheeks dampening the skin. She couldn’t be happier. She placed her hand over her stomach smiling down at it.

“I can’t wait to meet you little one, now we just need to tell your daddy that you’re on the way” she half whispered.

How was she going to tell George? She wanted to make it special, suddenly an idea popped into her head. She collected her bag, hiding the tests from sight just incase George got home before her, and she rushed out to the shop to get the very things she needed.

The next morning, Y/N woke up before George, it was his day off today so she let him sleep in. He always looked so peaceful when he slept, not to mention he looked jaw-droppingly handsome. His fiery red hair was splayed out all over the pillow, his beautiful eye lashes laid on his cheeks.

Wanting to waste no more time she carefully got up from bed so she didn’t wake up her husband and made her way into their kitchen. She went back and forth to from the fridge to the cupboards to the stove, as she prepared him some breakfast, scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast, George’s favourite breakfast. Then she took out the ‘special mug’ that she found in the shops yesterday and poured him some tea, just in time too as she felt two muscular arms wrap round her waist and a face bury itself into her neck.

“G’morning darling” George mumbled into her neck, kissing it before pulling away, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“Good morning love, how did you sleep?” She asked turning round to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“I slept well but I didn’t wake up next to you” he pouted.

“Well that’s because I was busy making breakfast” she beamed setting the plate down on the table along with his cup of tea.

“Thank you darling, and it’s my favourite too, what did I do to deserve this?” He said whilst sitting down to start his meal as his wife sat across from him with her coffee.

“Nothing in particular, just thought I would treat my wonderful husband this morning”

Y/N patiently sipped on her coffee, as she watched George make his way through his breakfast, the two making small talk, discussing what they wanted to do for the day ahead. With one last spoonful of egg Y/N knew he must be now down to the last few sips of his tea. She held her mug up to her face trying to conceal her smile from his view.

George started to finish his tea, drinking it down when he noticed that as he drank, colour appeared at the bottom of his mug, was there some kind of good morning message at the bottom? He continued to drink until the beverage was totally gone, looking down the bottom of the cup George’s eyebrows furrowed. The mug read.

No.1 Dad

That’s weird what did that mean? George looked up at his wife who was smiling widely at him, his eyes went wide.

“Are you serious?” He gasped

Y/N nodded her head biting her lip.

“I’m really- we’re really?”

“Yes Georgie, you’re gonna be a dad” she beamed

George got up from his seat quickly, jumping in the air.

“OH MY GODRIC I’M GOING TO BE A DAD” He yelled in excitement, he ran over to Y/N pulling her up from her chair, cradling her face in his hands, kissing her deeply.

“I love you so much” he grinned

“I love you too Georgie”

He got down on both his knees, staring at his wife’s stomach, holding her hips, he pressed his lips against her belly whispering to it.

“I can’t wait to meet you little one”

Y/N smiled at the sight, tears of joy falling from her eyes, George was going to be the best Dad to their child, she simply couldn’t wait for the small Weasley to appear in 9 months time.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @love-peachh @pens-and-roses @rosietoesy @comfortwriting @famdomhideout @dracofknmalfoy @pandaxnienke @writing-wh0re @onlyfreds @whipped-for-the-weasley-twins @fairielovegood @kaseyrose @georgeweasleysbabe @skarlettmikaelson @le-weasley-simp @midgardianweasley (MESSAGE/ASK IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED) if your name is crossed it means I wasn’t able to tag you for some reason :/

#george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #fred and george #george weasley fluff #dad! george weasley #george weasley angst #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley smut #george weasley smut #weasley twins #Weasley Twins smut #harry potter fluff

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ladyvesuvia · 3 years

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Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: Draco receives a Save the Date card from an ex, taking him back to the break-up that led up to that moment. » This is Part One.

Words: 3.2k (3260)

Warnings: not proofread, angst, cursing, arguments, cheating, mentions of sexual activities, gaslighting, doubts, threats, cursing + let me know if i missed something!

A/N: so, uh, i’m trying not to use time tags by telling the story in a continuous narrative anxbejsi + NO VOLDY

It was nearing lunch when a snowy owl swooped in from Draco’s window with an envelope tied to its leg. Must be from the Ministry, he thought. He’d been so deep into work lately that the piano remained untouched, dust turning it into its own shelter. In the span of what he can only assume was a long time, countless files and folders piled up on top of it. He kept telling himself he’ll get to it once he gets this and that done, but he never did. He shut the door and went back to the owl to untie the envelope.

Draco thought the owl would wait for him to finish reading the letter and write something back, but it did not – for it simply turned away to fly away once more. It was probably seven or eight years old now, he could tell from the way its feathers danced with the wind and how it always dropped once it left his window.

Shrugging the thought away, he turned his focus back to the letter in his hands. More work, then. Best just get it over with.

When he ripped it open, however, an appealing card greeted him instead — the two people in the picture were laughing, smiling at each other with heads thrown back. He only knew the woman in the picture. It wasn’t hard to determine who she was, for that smile itself gave it away.

Save the date, the card said. He turned the card around and saw something scribbled in a smaller font that said invitations were to follow. Flipping it back to look at the front of the card, he read the stated date over and over.

It was going to be held around the first week of September and he knew it was selfish of him but as he watched the happy couple smile lovingly at each other, he couldn’t help but wish it was him instead of that stupid stranger wearing a smile just as glowing as hers. They continued to move around as if alive, and it repulsed him to his very core.

Watching the card with one last glare, he stuck it back to the envelope to fetch himself some tea to keep his mind off things.

The tea wasn’t enough. To top that off, the silence was too loud. He had to get out this once and get something to eat or drink. He had to be anywhere else but here. So he stood up just as quickly as he had just made himself at home, put on a coat and decided to walk on the way instead of Apparating.

The Leaky Cauldron was just as swell even in this day and age. He hated to admit he did not like that it was tidied up a bit. He missed the battered setting that gave it the impression it had been to war itself. Well, it technically had but his point was that he disliked it looked less like a ruin as it did back then.

On his way inside, he ran into someone he recognized was an old Gryffindor student. He managed a polite smile and a wave. He then went inside and sat on the end of a table, making himself comfortable.

If he just squinted his eyes this way, he could pretend the same old shabby witches were talking about the Prophet. If he turned his head a bit to the right it wasn’t hard to pretend the cracked brick he leaned his head against once in his teenage years hadn’t been fixed. If he just squinted his eyes even more, he could pretend that the woman who sat at the other end of the table beside him was . . . her.

Only that this woman’s hair was way shorter, and there was a distinct air of radiance that surrounded her. He couldn’t see much until she felt him looking right at her that she turned to face him.

But it was her. And, to his surprise, she was smiling back at him.

“Hello, Malfoy,” she said, extending a hand in greeting. The longer he looked, the more the present blurred with history. Right now, a woman in her early twenties sat in front of him. “How’ve you been?”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

One cannot simply just pick when and where something ends. In movies, parting ways usually ended in heartbreak with the rain drenching the scenery — tears and arguments built with anguish.

Today, on the other hand, was a lovely day. The Hogwarts Express was nearing King’s Cross, and the only possible thing that could tarnish it was something she did not know yet.

On the twenty-fifth of December last year, a boy from Slytherin took her to the Yule Ball. Oh yes, she could remember clearly how lively it had been and how he looked at her with those eyes filled with newfound adoration. The day after that it was all catching the other staring; coy remarks and lines; subtle smiles here and there whenever crossing paths while walking to class. . . .

It was a slow-burn what with nothing happening at all until December of their fifth year came and to her surprise, he had stayed behind that holiday and pounded on the Fat Lady’s portrait, demanding her to let him in. It was a late night, maybe around nine-thirty in the evening. Her friends had heard the commotion outside, a bit hesitant at first but each offered to go out. Hermione had a bad feeling about it, but came along anyway.

When the painting of the Fat Lady opened, the sight of the pale boy almost earned an unnecessary remark from Ron, but Hermione made up her mind and dragged the other two away before further damage could be caused. Soon, it was just the two of them and the muttered complains of the Fat Lady. She gave hushed apologies as she pulled the blond boy away.

“It’s nine-thirty,” she had hissed, staring him straight in the eye, “what do you want?”

“You.” When she did not respond, he let out a mock of an exasperated sigh. “You know, last time I checked . . . curfew’s ten.”

“Right. But really, what now?”

“I got you roses,” he said as he revealed what he’d been hiding. It was a lovely little thing.

“I don’t like flowers very much; they wither too quick.” She took the bouquet into her arms, cradling it dearly. “But thanks anyway. What’re they for?”

“Well, I was just thinking about the Yule Ball and what transpired and I thought I’d do something about it.”

“Let me guess, you gave these to me as a symbol of your oh-so-undying-love for me and you’ll ‘love’ me until the last flower dies but wait!” She waved her vacant hand and clasped her mouth in mock surprise. “The last flower is a plastic one!”

“No, but that’s genius. I should have done that.”

“Not really, I think it’s tacky. Good you didn’t. However, I wouldn’t mind a casual meeting wherever you want in Hogsmeade. You down for it, Prefect?”

“How about we go somewhere now?”

“What’re you suggesting?” And with a mischievous grin, he took her by the hand and led her away. She had asked him about the curfew, but he paid her no mind as he guided the way to the Astronomy Tower. Safe to say that in that moment, it seemed as if it were the start of something precious.

Now, as the train whined to a stop, her eyes were trained to the necklace she held in her palm. P, it plainly stated.

The night she received it, she had slinked into the Slytherin common room. She could remember clearly how Draco seemed rather surprised at her presence and how she asked what was it that he held in his hand.

When she opened the box, she pressed a kiss against his cheek, thanking him over and over for the lovely necklace he had given her. But she had seen his furtive glances in the direction of the boys’ dormitory even as he kissed her cheek in return. She paid it no mind at the time, but her gut told her something else.

As she slipped the necklace in her cloak’s pocket, she threw a reproachful look at the empty seat across from her. She’d left her friends’ compartment to sit and wait for him to finish doing his ‘prefect duties,’ but he never stopped by.

Just as well, she thought. I’ll just head on over to his compartment.

But maybe she shouldn’t have. After all, ignorance could have been bliss. She didn’t have to open the door to see what was taking place inside for the glass pane let her know enough: Pansy was sitting on one of the chairs, buttoning her blouse up with a subtle hint of a smirk on her face.

She didn’t know her well enough to be comfortably blunt, so she asked her politely where Draco was. “Hi, uh, have you seen Draco?”

“Have I seen him?” she repeated, voice filled with mock amusement. “More than enough of him, I’d say. You know, just . . . the usual.”

She didn’t want to believe it until Pansy picked up a cloak on the floor that was not hers. Then another button-down shirt tossed lazily on the floor.

[Y/N]’s breath hitched at the thought of him was pressed against the window with his hands on another girl’s neck, caressing it dearly; their lips not too far away from touching, eyes almost shut. . .

Again, it was a lovely day. There were already parents pulling their children into tight embraces along with younger siblings still too young for Hogwarts filing in to pester their brothers and sisters about events that happened they want to know more about.

Sighing, she licked her lips and turned away to walk out and look for her mother. Contrary to popular belief, her heart did not break at the sight of his fingers tracing someone else’s neck with passion-filled eyes. If anything, the only thing she felt was the necklace inside her pocket moving a little bit in every step she took.

“You know, my friends kept asking me what I even loved about you,” she had told him when he snuck her in his common room one late night.

“What’d you tell them?”

“Hm, well, I said that I like that you’re always determined to get what you want — me — and I like that you always had something to say. . .” She couldn’t even put a price on that wholesome smile he wore. “What?”

“Just ‘like,’ huh?” he pouted, and she found him too adorable not to give a peck on the cheek.

“Well, we’re not there yet.” Maybe it was the faint dancing of the fireplace’s flames casting a warm glow upon them or the way her head was a perfect fit on his chest but she felt as if they were getting close. Of course, she did not tell him this at the time.

“When will we get there, then?”

Safe to say that they did not get there at all. Close, but not quite.

But even so, it was as if they had planned out every bit of their future before them – what kind of house they’d like, what month would be the best month to get married. . .

All of these were done without even a mention of the L-word.

She was trudging back to her empty train car to pick up her trunk when a hand locked on her wrist. Halting, she faced him. “Ready to go? Wait, you alright?”

He made to put his hand on her forehead, checking for a fever when she batter his hand away. Her eyes fell on the clean shirt he now wore. He had changed already. Of course he did.

He opened her mouth to speak but she cut him off. “Wait, no. You’re sorry, you can explain, and that it’s not what it looked like, yeah?”

“What?” asked Draco, now irritated. She untangled his hand away from her own. His throat was locking in, he wanted to say something but he just didn’t know what.

“Listen,” she started, “it’s just as well.”

“What are you talking about? Is something wrong? [Y/N], talk to me.” He started to step forward to help pull out her trunk from the train rack sitting on the floor but she batted him away gently and pulled it out herself, not daring to meet his eyes.

Setting the trunk down to get a better look at the boy before her, she put her hands on his shoulders. He had grown taller.

“Honestly, I’m more surprised at how I’m not as angry as I’m supposed to be and not at what I just heard a few minutes ago.” Chuckling humorlessly, she looked up at him as she let her hands down to her sides. “It’s okay, Malfoy. We’re not the same people we fell in love with. I just wish you had told me earlier before making me wait all alone the entire ride home.”

“[Y/N], did I do something wrong? Just talk to me, why won’t you talk to me? I— I just— Merlin, I’m. . .”

“No, you aren’t sorry. Look, six months was a good run and I want us to end in good terms before we go about our ways.” She picked up her trunk, ready to leave. She stepped out of the train as few more parents filed in and out to fetch their kids.

“So, we’re done?” Draco had followed her out, but she did not want to meet his eyes. “You won’t even bother to explain anything or at least let me talk? That’s it?”

“Well, yeah.” The necklace threatened to burn through her pocket, now a constant reminder of her naivety. With a tight smile, she held it up to him, the ‘P’ dropping innocently as if it had done nothing wrong (Which it hadn’t, except that its mere existence was enough to be considered an object of betrayal). “She can have her necklace now. I used to think that the letter stood for Princess but I guess it meant Pansy, right?”

Grabbing his hand, she dropped it into his palm. This might be the last time they’d hold each other’s hands, and so she decided that it’d be best to make something out of it and drew gentle circles with her thumb.

“It’s over,” she said. As she kept her eyes trained on him this time, all she could think about was how so much has changed between them: just like how they grew taller, so did his pride.

Out of all the most impossible things, she never thought she’d live long enough to see Draco Malfoy desperately plead someone for something, but most importantly . . . that she would be that someone. There were no words spoken, but she could read those eyes enough to know the things he would never dare to say out loud.

“It’s over?” he repeated. “[Y/N], do you not love me enough to hear me out?” He took her hands into his.

“Did you not love me enough to think?” She brought her hands up to pull his own hands away from her face, but immediately tucked it into the pockets of her jeans afterwards. “Look at us talking about love for the first time. Too bad it’s at our epilogue.”

“Will you please, please just talk to me? Let’s just sort this out!” His hair was unkempt, and she found herself thinking if Pansy would be patient enough to comb it down and neaten it every single time. He opened another compartment door, offering to let her sit down. “Please?”

“I don’t know. . .”

Six months. Half a year. But there was more to it all than just the time they spent together with a label; more than just the dance at the Yule Ball where they laughed and enjoyed the direction of the music, dancing as if they were the only people in the dance floor; more than the nights they spent in each other’s common rooms enveloping the other in a warm embrace; more than the knowing glances they exchanged before they became a thing; more than literally everything.

Yet she couldn’t bring herself to shed a tear or at least slap him out of anger.

She wasn’t angry no matter how much she wanted to be.

“Well, I have nothing to say anymore.” I do. I know you let your pride get in the way. I know you let them get in your head. I know you let their possible opinions tarnishing your name blot our relationship. I have no regrets, only that I wish I hadn’t let that one dance in the ball make me think highly of you and who you could be. “Farewell, Malfoy. I’ll see you in a few months.”

With that, she picked up her stuff and walked away to greet her mother who had been waiting for her not so far away.

She couldn’t even fall asleep on the car ride home. Or maybe she just didn’t want to dream about him. A valid reaction would be to cry it out and feel what you had to feel, but it was all hollow. Heck, she didn’t even have a clue what she felt.

Summer was an absolute pain, what with nothing to do but household chores and errands. She had subscribed to the Daily Prophet and have been receiving letters from Hermione, Ron, and Harry; all the while she was also sending them letters back.

The end of the vacation was coming to an end too fast and it was time to go back to Diagon Alley to get everything for the upcoming school year. She seriously considered not tagging along, but she knew full well that her mother would have trouble navigating the Leaky Cauldron. As soon as the thought of not going to Diagon Alley entered her mind, another thought came.

What if I just didn’t return to Hogwarts at all? What if I just stayed here and applied for home school until my college years and live a normal life? Alright, I’m telling my mom. Mom, I do not want to return to that cursed school. Everything is bullshit and I just want to reunite with my old friends.

Just when she was about to swing her bedroom door open to trudge downstairs, the pile of envelopes sitting innocently on her vanity desk captured her, keeping her trained to her doorway. There were also a few boxes right next to it – packages from her friends. She approached it hesitantly, but as soon as it was within reach, she felt her heart threatening to burst into countless pieces.

No, she did not want to leave Hogwarts. She just needed a break from that world. She needed a friend from this world where she could just pretend she was still that little girl who dreamt of living a simple life in a small house all the while only worrying about bacon being overcooked. Slowly, she backed away from the letters; tied her hair up in a ponytail; rummaged through her notebooks to find a different envelope tucked in between the pages of an old journal; skimmed through the long page and found the phone number she knew she’d find; and rushed downstairs to dial it.

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escapewithbts · 3 years

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Forgetful - Seokjin

———————————————

You sat at the two person table by yourself just staring mindlessly at the menu. You could probably recite the whole entree list by heart at this point.

The dimly lit restaurant was crowded and filled with noises; dishes clanking, people laughing, the soft tune of music. It would have been the perfect atmosphere… had you not been there alone.

You sighed and glanced at your beautiful (and expensive) watch… one of the many gifts given to you by your boyfriend last Christmas.

It was 8:43. Your reservation had been for 43 minutes ago.

“Excuse me,” the perfect-looking hostess came up to you for the third time and spoke to you in Korean, “but we are super busy, as you can probably tell, and if you’re not going to order then we really need your table.”

You frowned and glanced down at your phone. Still no texts or missed calls.

“I know, I’m so sorry, can I just wait until nine? I don’t know why he’s taking so long, I’m sure he’s on his way…”

“So you’ve said,” she replied with a fake smile, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder and walking away.

Wow rude, much?

You stared at your phone, your vision becoming blurry from the tears forming in your eyes. You hoped everything was okay with him. And you couldn’t help but wonder if he forgot.

You scrolled through his texts, the last from this morning around 10:30am saying he was beginning the shoot for the latest Run BTS! Episode and he would see you later. You assumed that meant here.

But he never showed.

You touched his contact to give him a call, but again it just rang and rang until you were again met with the automatic voicemail. You sighed and typed him another text.

Hey I’m leaving the restaurant now. I hope you’re okay. Please call or text when you get this.

Then you grabbed your things, stood up and walked towards the exit of the restaurant.

“Oh my god, it’s about time she left,” you heard the hostess whisper to someone as you walked passed her podium, “She claimed to be meeting a member of BTS here for dinner!”

Her snickering was the last thing you heard as you pushed open the door and went back out into the warm Seoul night.

By the time you made it home to your and Jin’s shared apartment you were exhausted and your feet absolutely ached from the heels you were wearing. You unlocked the door and went inside, immediately removing them and rubbing your swollen soles.

All of a sudden, you heard noises coming from the living room. Jin was home?

When you turned the corner there he was, sitting on the couch, laughing at some show playing on the tv and eating ramen from a bowl on his lap.

Your heart sank. He was okay. So what you had feared was true after all. He just forgot.

Forgot your one-year anniversary dinner.

“Oh hi, (y/n)-ah!” he exclaimed when he finally noticed you standing there, a heap of noodles dangling out of his mouth.

He swallowed them and continued,

“Wow, you look really pretty! Did you go out with your friends?”

Your eyes instantly welled up with tears and a couple fell down your cheeks before you could stop them. You tried to swipe them away abruptly with the back of your hand but Jin still noticed.

“Jagi, what’s wrong?”

He set his bowl on the coffee table in front of him and rose from his seat on the couch to walk over to you.

He reached his arms out to hold you, but you instantly stepped back to avoid his embrace.

He cocked his head and furrowed his eyebrows confusingly, his large red lips turning into a frown.

“Jagiya? Is everything okay?”

You sniffled and glared at him.

“So you just don’t check your phone anymore?”

He immediately reached into the front pocket of his trousers and pulled it out.

“Aiishh it must have still been on silent from the shoot today. I’m sorry if I missed-”

He stopped mid sentence as he finally observed all your missed calls and read your texts.

His face fell.

“Oh… fuck. (y/n). Shit.”

He looked up at you, an expression of worry and guilt evident on his handsome face.

“(y/n), jagi, I’m so so so sorry. Fuck! I-I completely forgot. I got caught up with work and- ”

You put your hand up to silence him.

“I don’t want to hear it, Seokjin.”

He winced. He knew you only called him by his full first name on two occasions: one when you were really really pissed at him, the other when he was making really really good love to you… and right now it certainly was not the latter.

You brushed passed him and headed toward the hallway. You were tired and hurt, and now to top it all off you had a massive headache. All you wanted to do at this point was take a shower, go to bed and forget this evening ever happened.

But you heard Jin follow you toward your shared bedroom.

“(y/n), please, I’m really sorry. I know there aren’t any excuses. I fucked up. I really, really fucked up.”

You scoffed, not turning back to face him.

“Yeah, you think?”

He paused in thought for a moment.

“Well, what if-what if we celebrate now? I can cook you up some really delicious food, all your favorite foods from home! And-and we can light some candles, have dinner, spend the whole rest of the night together…”

You stopped in the bedroom doorway and swung your whole body around to face him again.

“No. It’s too late, Jin. I waited at the restaurant for an hour for you. I’m exhausted, okay? I just want to go to bed,” you paused, “So please. Just leave me alone.”

Jin’s shoulders fell in defeat as his gaze went to the floor. His arm lifted to scratch the back of his neck.

“O-okay,” he whispered.

Then he squinted his eyes tightly shut, and that was the last thing you saw as you let the bedroom door close in his face.

The warm shower felt amazing on your body, but you couldn’t help the thoughts that plagued your mind while in there. Jin had forgotten arguably the most important date in a relationship. What was next? Your birthday? The next anniversary? It made you feel like your relationship wasn’t important to him, like you were an afterthought. It hurt your heart.

Once you were clean and out of the shower, you changed into a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. Your head still ached immensely; you had hoped the shower would have fixed that, but all that overthinking had only made it worse. You knew Jin usually kept some pain medication in his nightstand for when his body was sore after a particularly grueling day of dancing, so you proceeded to his side of the bed and sat down on the edge, reaching for the top drawer.

Immediately upon opening it you spotted a red envelope, “My (y/n)” written across the top in Jin’s messy handwriting. You hesitated for a second whether or not to investigate it, but ultimately, with a shaky hand, you pulled it out. You took a deep breath before opening it and removing the card inside.

In an elegant font, the front of the card read ‘Happy Anniversary to the one I want to annoy for the rest of my days’, and written on the inside ‘Hey, that’s you!’.

You couldn’t help but stifle out a small chuckle, accompanied with an eye roll, of course. It was so Jin. Your Jin.

Your eyes then scanned his handwritten message next.

Jagiya,

Congratulations! You have been chosen by WWH Worldwide Handsome Kim Seokjin himself as the person who gets to be annoyed by him for the rest of your life! Don’t you feel so honored? It’s a coveted position, there’s only one spot, and you got it! We’ll talk about the details later 😉

No, but seriously, my (y/n), thank you for putting up with me for a whole year. I know I can be pretty obnoxious, silly, stupid, goofy, forgetful (ha, he got that one right for sure), busy and sometimes moody, but you have stuck with me through it all and I appreciate it. You are so special and I hope you know how lucky I feel to have you. You’re so supportive and patient and kind. I can’t wait to share many more anniversaries with you.

All my love,

Jin

You clutched the card to your chest, tears streaming down your face again. But this time you weren’t upset. You were touched. His words definitely didn’t excuse what he did (or rather didn’t do) this evening, but at least you knew how he truly felt about you. He really did love you. Your heart suddenly felt full.

You stood up, holding the card tightly, opening the bedroom door to go find him.

“Jin?” you yelled down the hall. But, to your surprise, he was right outside the bedroom doorway, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, his long legs spread out in front of him, his phone in his hands.

“Jin I-“

But he quickly stood up and turned his phone to face you.

“Jagiya, look I downloaded an app where you can save all your important dates! And you can set it up for reminders days, even weeks beforehand! So I put in today, of course, and your birthday, but please don’t think I would ever forget that, and the day we went on our first date, the day I first cooked for you, the day-“

He stopped speaking when you suddenly stood on your tip toes and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. He immediately wrapped his around your lower back and squeezed you into him.

“I’m just so sorry, jagi.” he mumbled into your hair.

You nodded against his broad shoulder.

“I know.”

You pulled away and presented the card.

“I found this.”

Jin’s ears promptly turned bright red and he closed his eyes tightly. Then he put his head in his hands.

“Aiissh, it’s so cheesy, I’m sorry.”

You placed your hand on his upper arm, making him glance back down at you.

“No, Jinnie, not at all. It’s perfect. I loved it.”

He smiled, wrinkles forming at the sides of his eyes.

“See? I didn’t completely forget! I knew it was coming up. I just didn’t exactly remember when we were going to dinner and I should have-”

You placed your lips on his in a tender kiss to shut him up again. He pulled you closer to him, so your bodies were completely touching before you broke apart, still attached at the foreheads.

“Mmm Happy One Year Anniversary, my (y/n)-ah,” he breathed out.

You nuzzled your face into his strong neck.

“Happy Anniversary, my Worldwide Handsome.”

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leafs-lover · 3 years

Text

Because Two People Got Drunk: 43

Chapter 43

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, heart break and heartache, swearing, drinking soft, smut

Word Count: 12000

You are awoken at 8am by Elise stirring slightly beside you. Knowing she is hungry and this is the last time you will get to feed her before the honeymoon you adjust your top and pull her into your embrace. You have plenty of milk in the fridge ready for your trip, but you want to enjoy this intimate moment with your daughter.

She immediately latches and you lean back against the headboard gently brushing her thin hairs from her forehead you stare down at her. Normally you would be completely mesmerized staring down at her; this huge piece of you, piece of Fred resting in your embrace. Just as you had felt with your three sons; and every morning with Elise up until this point.

Normally you use these quiet moments with your kids to try to determine what traits they have taken from you, what they have taken from Fred, their father, the man you are set to marry today.

But not today.

Today you feel uneasy, anxious, a ball of nerves resting in your gut. Your stomach doing backflips, nausea washing over you. Your entire body gets hot, palms getting clammy; you take deep breaths in through your nose and out your mouth, hoping you can make it through the feeding without puking.

You hear Carlee groan at the light knocking at the door, followed by her footsteps on the tile floor. Making your way out to the living room Allie stumbles out of her room wiping sleep from her eyes. Metal squeaking accompanies Carlee as she rolls the tray into the room. She pulls the lids off as you flop onto the couch as Sarah makes her way to join you.

“Good morning beautiful, can’t wait to see you in eight hours when you finally become my wife. Love you xoxo Fred” Carlee reads from a card that accompanies your breakfast. There is a round of “aww’s” from everyone as their eyes fall to you. You swallow the lump in your throat giving a fake smile that nobody seems to see through, still foggy with pre-coffee haze.

The room quickly gets busy after breakfast, Amalie and Charlotte arriving first. Some girls are getting their makeup done, others, yourself included, still having their hair done. You have a white silk robe slung over your shoulders, while all the girls have a pistachio coloured one. Each embroidered with cursive font on the back.

Maybe it’s the buzz in the room; the giggles and chatter, that nobody notices you have barely touched your first mimosa. Or maybe they think you are trying to take it easy, not wanting to be that bride. The bride who spends her wedding with her head in a toilet bowl. Or maybe they think you are pregnant, given your track record it’s not an unreasonable assumption.

Maybe it’s the excitement of Kathy walking in absolutely glowing, six months in to her pregnancy. Or maybe it’s Elise who spends most of the day being passed around the room from woman to woman. Even as she naps she never sees her bassinet, someone always free to bounce in her arms.

But if someone had of looked a little closer they would have seen how your nose scrunched up and you gagged taking that first sip of your mimosa. If someone had of listened they would have heard, well they would have heard nothing.

They would have noticed how 90% of your responses have been under five words, or how most of your responses are half smiles with a small nod of the head. If anyone had of watched they would have seen how you haven’t held your daughter in almost 5 hours, how you are the only person not to rub Kathy’s stomach in hopes of feeling a kick.

If they had of paid attention they would have noticed that you are constantly picking your nails. Your knee is anxiously tapping against the floor, so much so you are surprised a hole hasn’t developed.

If anyone had of noticed they would have seen the emptiness behind your eyes as you slowly fade further and further back.

But they don’t.

Or maybe they do. But maybe they think you are just nervous or so excited you are caught in your head. Maybe this is how some brides feel how some act.

Uneasy at the thought of walking down the aisle.

Uneasy at the thought of getting married.

“Oh you guys are gorgeous” you say as your bridesmaids walk into your sight in floor length pistachio A-line dresses. The top has a scoop neck with a white lace overlay and a racerback. The bottom is a chiffon skirt complete with white heels and matching earrings. It’s something you gifted them all with as a thank you for standing beside you, being a part of this day with you.

It’s after 2:30 and everyone is getting into their dresses, you the last person. You hand Elise over to Charlotte having just got her into her wedding day outfit. The seamstress did an amazing job and the dress that was too big mere weeks ago fits her perfectly.

Carlee and Allie lead you to an attached room and unzip the bag, both of them gasping at the dress before them. They of course helped pick it out, but they haven’t seen it since then. And there is a pretty big change that nobody including yourself knew about until the first fitting.

“Hey babe” you call out walking into the kitchen setting your purse down on the counter.

“Hey” Fred’s arms wrap around your stomach puling you back against his chest. “How’d it go?” his hand gently rubs over the bump.

“Well bean here decided before my first fitting was the perfect time to pop, so the dress would barely do up around it” you laugh. “My dress fittings going forward will be interesting.”

“I’m sure you still looked gorgeous babe” his warm breath is on the shell of your ear. “Wear track pants for all I care.”

“Funny thing though” you gently rub your hands over his as he hums in response. “It wasn’t the dress I picked out.”

“Hmm that is weird” he mumbles.

“Yeah see I ordered a white dress, the one I tried on today was blush.”

You pull his hands away and turn gently in his arms. Your hands land on his shoulders and his eyes stare down at you.

“You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?” you ask quirking an eyebrow.

“No” he shakes his head. “That is super weird.”

“You sure?” you ask seeing him trying to hide a smirk but he just nods in response.

“When I asked them about it they said my fiancé went in and made the change” you explain. “Two days after I ordered it.”

You stare up at him, your gaze getting firmer. Your arms cross over your chest and you take a step backwards until you hit the counter running out of space. Staring into his eyes he is the first to break with a deep sigh.

“Kay. So the girls came down last month and you all went shopping, and that night I facetimed with you.”

“Mhm” you nod.

“You wouldn’t tell me anything about the dress just that you loved it but I could tell you were holding something back. Well Lucas started screaming and you passed the phone to Carlee for a couple minutes. Well I kept pestering them and finally Allie let it slip that she didn’t think you were 100% happy with it.”

Shaking your head slightly Fred continues on, his eyes softening “she said there was this dress in blush and you loved the colour but not the dress. Then you tried on the dress you bought and loved it but it was in white. They said you could get it in blush, but the customization was an additional $5000 so you said no and decided to go with white. She said you tried to pretend it wasn’t a big deal but they could tell you were a little upset. When I got back into town I stopped on my way home. The stylist you had was working and remembered very well how you seemed disappointed. She said it took you over thirty minutes to come out of the dressing room. So I pulled my credit card out and paid for the change then and there.”

“Fred that’s very sweet of you, but I was fine with white” you say softly.

He walks forward and pulls you into his chest before he has the chance to see your face. If he had of waited he might have seen through you, that the problem wasn’t the colour of your dress, something much larger kept you locked in that dressing room. Instead your face is pressed into his chest and he continues on, none the wiser.

“You shouldn’t be fine about your wedding dress. And you know I don’t care about money, the dress even in blush was actually much less than I thought it would be. I just want to make sure this is the wedding of your dreams.”

You should have been thrilled at Fred’s surprise. It should have made you feel like the most special girl in the entire world. That you have a fiancé who is willing to stop at nothing to ensure today is exactly as you dreamed it.

Only thing is this isn’t how you dreamt it. How could you?

Instead of feeling butterflies about seeing Fred you have an overwhelming pit in your stomach. No amount of distractions or mental pep talks making it go away.

Slowly Carlee zips the dress up, working on the couple of buttons of the ball gown. Taking a few uneasy breaths staring at yourself in the mirror, you feel tears prick your eyes, just as Allie attaches the vail to your head.

“You look so beautiful” Carlee squeals fixing some of your hair.

“Thanks babe” you reply taking yourself in. The top is lace and beads, dropping into a low V on the front and back. Below the waist blush coloured tulle falls to your feet, trailing a few feet behind you. It’s not a classic ball gown, lacking the puffiness of a princess dress, but still not having a form fitted bottom.

A part of you was worried about the fit, being pregnant the seamstress only had 10 weeks to make the changes. And during that time your body was constantly changing, adjusting to no longer being pregnant. You had no idea what to expect, and this has been a major stress for you.

Finally ready complete with the earrings Charlotte leant you, the pair she wore on her wedding day. You walk over to the window looking out at the 200 guests who are patiently waiting in your seats, sun shining down on them. The clock quickly approaching 4 and everyone is laughing and chatting amongst themselves, every seat full.

You sigh and sniffle back the tears seeing them.

The two empty seats in the front row.

Walking out to the other room joining your other bridesmaids you notice Charlotte has left. Finding her way to Fred, for him to escort her down the aisle. Only Elise and the five bridesmaids left, all eyes falling on you.

“Mommy you look beautiful” you hear your son call. Turning around you see the three of them in matching navy tuxedo’s complete with black bow ties. Fred took you and the kids out a couple months ago to the tailors to pick out the looks for the groomsmen and the boys but you never imagined they would look this adorable.

The dark fabric against his light skin, matching suspenders and hair combed to the side just tugs on your heart strings. A white boutonniere pinned to the outside of his jacket. Fred styled his hair off to the side, his wavy red hair framing his face. You wipe away a stray tear quickly picking him up for a big hug.

“Oh my goodness look at you” you coo pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You are just the most handsome best little man.”

A smile tugs on the edge of his lips and a blush hits his cheeks “thanks mommy.”

“How is daddy doing?” you ask giving him another kiss tickling his side.

“He said I can’t tell you” he giggles making you laugh. You hoped Oliver would divulge some details into how Fred was handling today. If his nerved were getting to him, or if he was calm, like when he is in net on game day.

You wish he hadn’t told him though, you wish Oliver would tell you he is anxious. That he had to pour himself a glass of whiskey to calm down, his leg was tapping anxiously against the wood floor. That he was being pulled in two different directions while trying to play it off. But it appears Fred beat you to the punch, telling your child to stay tight lipped.

“Oh and look at your brothers” you say trying to distract yourself as Mitch stands there, holding each of the twins hands. They have on identical suits to Oliver, hair combed over to the side. “All of you are just so handsome.”

You walk over completely bypassing Mitch and scooping them for a big hug. You press your lips to their foreheads holding your three boys tight. Oliver begins to groan about it being too tight and you release him standing up to be met with Mitch.

“Hey Mitch” you say straightening his bow tie before he wraps his arms around you for a tight hug.

“You look beautiful momma” he says into your ear.

“You look nice too” you smile.

“I look better than nice” he scoffs jokingly. “Is the little lady ready?” he asks looking over to Elise. Wide eyes and smiling in her bassinet dressed in a white dress. It has a lace top and tulle bottom, a large bow tied around it, a white floral headband on her head.

While planning the wedding you tried to find a way to include all of the kids in the day. When you thought you were having a boy you planned on one of the bridesmaids pulling him down the aisle in a wagon. With the surprise of having a girl you switched to a groomsman pulling her down the aisle, and Mitch immediately volunteered to escort her. During the ceremony she will be with Charlotte in the first row but you still wanted to have her be a part of the ceremony.

“Yeah we just have to get her in the wagon” you respond as he walks over picking her up. He grabs a blanket placing it over his crisp suit to protect himself from the potential baby vomit, before pressing her against it. She coos in his arms reaching out to grab his thick brown locks giving them a tight yank.

“Okay” the planner comes into the room scanning around at everyone “Fred is ready and waiting for you.”

“Ready” Carlee comes up wrapping her arms around you for a tight squeeze. You feel yourself tense at the words, fists clenching firmly. Your nails dig harshly into your palms and you take a few uneasy breaths. Unclenching your fists you see the crescent shaped marks you left behind. All day you thought these feelings would go away once it came time to walk down the aisle, but instead bile rises in your throat.

Pulling away she sees some tears in your eyes, your bottom lip beginning to quiver. “Hey don’t cry” she wipes away the tears with her thumbs. Immediately recognizing these aren’t happy tears, they are the tears that often come before a collapse of emotions. Her voice drops to a hushed whisper as her lips find your ear “what’s going on?” she whispers.

She pulls you in tight and an involuntary sob slips from you before you breakdown against her. The room goes quiet only your sobs echoing as her hand tangles into your curls holding you close.

“(Y/N)” she whispers running her other hand up and down your back.

Your chest heaves and you fall apart in her arms “I don’t know if I can do this” you whisper through a deep shuddering breath as Allie comes up to you wrapping her arms around the two of you. Your chest tightens and your breathing gets erratic the room feeling like its crumbling around you.

“What do you mean (Y/N)” they usher you over to the couch your head falling onto Allie’s shoulder, Carlee crouching down in front of you. The silence that fills the air is deafening. You can feel the tension in the room as everyone watches on, waiting to see how everything unfolds.

“You don’t want to marry Fred?” Carlee asks softly squeezing your hands, your body stiffening at her words.

Your eyes stay locked on your feet but you crumble hearing her words, your heart breaking into a million pieces. You become frozen unable to respond, everything around you fading into the background. Taking a deep breath, anxiety brewing low in your gut slowly inching its way up to your surface

You don’t know how long you sit there, your eyes glazed warm tears barreling down your cheeks. Allie gently squeezes your hand and you remain frozen eyes locked on the floor. “What do you need babe? Need to run, we can do that.”

Silence.

Over what feels like the next hour Carlee and Allie try to talk to you. You hear Oliver object while Mitch, Amalie and Sarah usher the kids outside to provide you with privacy. His cries make your stomach churn and your chest tightens but you can do nothing to help calm him down. You barely have control of yourself at this point.

You spend the next ten minutes sobbing against Allie’s shoulder, Carlee constantly dabbing your tears trying to preserve your makeup. You have a tight hold on one of Carlee’s hands and one of Allie’s as they try to encourage you and talk you down. But it’s no use.

Your hands are shaking, blood running cold while the ringing in your ears drowns everything else out. They become inaudible; the only sound you hear is your heart beating through your chest. You feel like you are outside your body watching everything unfold. Stuck in a glass box and no matter how hard you pound your fists against it, it won’t break.

Tears are streaming down your face, and you know nothing will ease them at this point. Biting the inside of your cheek, the taste of copper fills your mouth. Your entire body tenses up “I can’t” you say pushing up from the couch walking away “I can’t do this.”

“(Y/N) you can do this” Carlee says walking up to you.

The blood pounds in your ears. Your heart thudded in your chest. Your hands trembling, feet tingling as you kick your shoes aside. You have to get out. You cry harder, chest growing tighter as bile rises in your throat. Your fists are so tightly bound you expect to draw blood

“No!” you yell stopping her in her tracks “you need to get me out of this.” Turning around to show her the buttons on the back “I can’t breathe you need to get me out of this.”

“Okay okay okay” she fumbles with the buttons, Allie coming to help her. Finally you push it down your body and step out of it standing in just underwear. Immediately you fall to the cool tile floor your dress in a pile a few feet away. Bending your knees and putting your head between them taking a few deep breaths.

You don’t move sitting on the cool floor in your underwear taking deep breaths while your friends silently look on, unsure of what to do next. Seconds feel like minutes, your heart still pounding through your chest. “I need Fred” you whisper so low it’s almost silent.

“What sweetie?” Allie asks your head not lifting from between your legs.

“I need Fred” you repeat and hear her heels click against the floor as the door shuts.

“Wow Frederik” your mom calls walking over to you. She grips your face placing a kiss on your cheek “you look so handsome.”

“Thanks ma” you place a kiss on her cheek pulling back slightly “you look great too.”

She smiles wide “ready?” she asks fixing your sleeve. You can see the tears resting behind her eyes, seeing her first born on his wedding day.

“You have no idea” you laugh holding an arm out for her. “I can’t wait to marry her.”

“Well between you and me, she looks absolutely beautiful” Charlotte says kissing your cheek again. You just smile in response, you have no doubt she is going to be breathtaking. You don’t even know if you’ll be able to get through your vows without breaking down.

Her arm links with yours and you begin the walk down the aisle, past the crowd of onlookers. Scanning around you see friends and family on both sides, team mates from all your years in the NHL scattered around.

You don’t spend much time scanning the faces, mostly looking ahead to your awaiting groomsmen. To the altar where you will finally get everything you’ve ever wanted. The squared off altar with soft coloured cloth draping it, white, red and pink roses mingled in it. The large oversized lanterns, soft coloured flowers littering the edge of the aisle, the oval backed brown chairs.

You had no idea this is how it would look. (Y/N) showed you pictures throughout the entire process, but you mostly helped nudge her when she couldn’t pull the trigger. The colour of flowers, the shape of the twinkiling lights, size of the candles. None of them really mattered to you, so you mostly tried to figure out what way (Y/N) was leaning and encouraged her to choose that. She wasn’t always subtle on what option she preferred, but all you need is her standing across from you and nothing else would matter.

But taking in the décor, all you can see is (Y/N). Everything looks amazing, not that you should be surprised. Kissing her cheek she makes her way to her seat and you finally take your spot at the altar beside your groomsmen. Next are the bridesmaids, your kids and then (Y/N).

You shutter just thinking about how in less than thirty minutes she will be your wife. You have the four most amazing kids, and soon this woman you share everything with will be your wife. You thought your family was complete when Elise was born, but today is the final piece to your forever.

“You ready for this” Auston whispers in your ear and you quickly whisper a yes not even bothering to look towards him. Your eyes stay locked down the aisle waiting for them to appear.

Scanning around the crowd you can see the guests getting antsy in their seats. You didn’t go through how long after you arrived at the altar the bridesmaids would start to walk but you are beginning to think it’s taking a little longer than expected.

Shifting awkwardly on your feet you turn to your watch, over twenty minutes late. While being punctual isn’t always her strong suit when dealing with four kids, today is the one day you can’t imagine she will be late.

And that’s when you see her.

Allie.

Quickly making her way down the aisle.

Too quickly.

That’s when it hits you, you shouldn’t be seeing her. It should be Amalie first. And Allie doesn’t look happy, she looks stressed. You swallow the lump in your throat as she comes up to you, turning you so your back is to the crowd.

“You need to come” she whispers in a hushed but assertive tone. “(Y/N)…” she trails off “(Y/N) needs you. Now.”

Your back stiffens at the firmness in her voice. Before she spoke you knew something was wrong, but hearing her tell you that makes you want to fall apart. Instead you turn saying nothing to nobody and head in the wrong direction, back where you came from minutes ago.

Gasps and whispers fill the crowd, your mom trying to reach out for you but you are gone. Long strides propel you down the aisle, once around the corner and away from the guests you take off running. Past Mitch who is bouncing Elise. Past Amalie who is trying to distract the twins. Past Oliver who cries out for you as Kathy holds him so he can’t chase after you.

Opening the door you don’t know what you expect. But it is not (Y/N) naked on the floor, her dress haphazardly thrown in a pile on the floor. Her head between her legs as she takes deep breaths. Her cries the only thing you hear.

Your stomach churns as you watch the site unfold in front of you. Swallowing back the lump in your throat, your heart breaks into a million pieces. Carlee shooting you a soft half smile before wordlessly slipping out around you.

You hear his dress shoes click on the polished floor. He can feel the pain rolling off you in waves long before he reaches you. Sighing he slides onto the floor beside you crossing his ankles. He doesn’t say anything, watching your chest heave, listening to your strangled sobs. He glances over at you. You can feel his gaze burning into the side of your head but you refuse to meet his eyes.

Too frozen, too afraid of what you might see. What you have caused. You don’t know how long the two of you sit there, but he doesn’t talk, he doesn’t touch you. He sits. Silently. Uncomfortably, Heart breaking as every second ticks on, but he knows you need time.

Finally your tears begin to subside, the walls pulling back from around you. Your knees bent and arms curled around them you take an uneasy breath mustering the strength to stare at Fred who has yet to move.

Your eyes flick to meet his deep brown orbs, they are glazed over, the tears pricking his eyes yet to fall. He stares down at his feet taking some uneasy exhales waiting to see if his life is about to unravel in front of him. His face is a blanket of panic and fear and it bruises your heart.

You see the pain in his eyes, the pain you caused and you immediately crumble yet again. Your head falls onto his shoulder, the touch startling him. He closes his eyes, focusing on the gentle touch before taking a deep breath. Without thinking he pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. He holds you tight to his chest, worried this is the last time. That if he lets go he’ll never get to hold you again.

One hand tightly grips your arm his other gently stroking up your cool skin. You continue to sob against his chest, but relax against him. You feel him exhale because you didn’t recoil from his touch. The silence in the room is ominous certainly loaded with meaning.

You don’t know how long you sit on the floor with him “you still want to be with me?” he hesitantly asks. Hearing him say those words breaks you. It’s not the words themselves, it’s the absolute despair and heart break he tries to hide but even still you hear the fracture in his words.

“Do you actually think that?” you whisper.

“Up until five minutes ago I had no doubts at all. Then Allie comes barreling towards me and I find you sitting in your underwear, your dress in a pile on the floor. Now I don’t know what to think.” The strain in his voice trying not to let it crack tears your heart in two and sends warm tears barreling down your cheeks.

You choke on your tears, pulling your eyes up to meet his. The look on his face nearly kills you, inadequacy, rejection, humiliation. The silence hangs thick in the air, a gentle thumb wipes the tears that have stained your cheeks. You smile lightly at his actions. As he sits there waiting to find out if you are about to break his heart he still is putting you and your needs first.

“Is this a Cody situation?” he whispers.

“What?” you say a little too harshly.

“Your ex”

“I know who Cody is Fred” you groan.

“You once told me you didn’t know why but you couldn’t commit to him that something was missing. When the time came for you to decide you couldn’t do it. Is this” he trails off trying to find the strength, but you don’t know if it’s to ask the question or for the answer. “Is this like that?”

“No. I love you Freddie so much” you whisper unsure if you can use your full voice.

“What’s going on babe” he asks softly thumb gently stroking over your cheek. Your bottom lip trembles as you struggle to find the words before you finally choke out“my parents.”

You watch him exhale the breath he has been holding onto for the past few minutes. His shoulders relaxing slightly but he still keeps you tight to him. His arms had never felt better wrapped around you. Holding you safe.

You have had a pit in your stomach for months, but you tried to push it aside. You have known since you were 12 that you had to do this on your own. You weren’t going to call your mom and facetime her minutes after accepting the proposal. Your dad wouldn’t cry when he saw you for the first time in your dress, your mom wouldn’t watch on during the father daughter dance.

You have been telling yourself it’s normal, that these feelings are to be expected but on the actual day you thought excitement would supersede your anxiety. But now you are wrecked with nerves and you just know you can’t do it. You can’t stand at the altar, with two empty chairs in the front row staring back at you. Seats that shouldn’t be empty, seats where your parents should be sitting.

Neither one of you says anything, Fred allowing you to cry against his smooth suit fabric. He feels your body slowly begin to relax, your sobs becoming less strangled but he doesn’t say anything giving your arm a soft squeeze. The soft thudding of his heart helps to slow yours down, calming you down.

“I’m sorry” you say faintly.

“Don’t apologize, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now” he hums pressing his lips softly to your temple. You melt into his touch and instantly felt all the tension he had been holding escape.

“I didn’t think it would be this hard” you sigh. “I thought I could make it through today, I didn’t expect to feel this way.”

“You didn’t think you’d miss your parents on your wedding day” he laughs lightly.

“I don’t know” you groan. “I thought I would be too busy to think about them, with everything going on. But now all I can think about is them; how they aren’t here.”

“How long has this been going on?” he asks knowing this didn’t start today.

“For a while” you mumble “first happened when I tried on dresses.”

You spent twenty minutes having a breakdown in the dressing room over the fact that your mom wasn’t there. That she didn’t get to be a part of the experience with you. You had long known she wouldn’t be there but that day sitting in the dress you fell apart. You told your friends you spent the time trying on dresses that you instantly knew were no’s and that’s why you were in there for so long. There have been a few times since then, but that was the first moment you truly missed her.

“You want to run” he asks causing you to snort slightly. “We don’t have to get married smuk. We have four kids and two houses. You already are my wife; I don’t need some piece of paper that says that. Just need you.”

“No Fred” you laugh for the first time all day. “I want to marry you, I just…I need a minute to miss my parents.”

“Take all the time you need, I’m not going anywhere” your head falls onto his chest listening to the soft beating of his chest. The light thud against your ear slowly soothes you, and for the first time in a while you feel at ease.

Finally you smile at him “I am so happy I have you.”

He leans forward to gently press his lips to yours. The kiss starts soft and hesitant. A kiss that tastes and feels like home making your arms wrap around him as you sink into the kiss. “I love you” he mumbles against your lips as he captures his breathe before returning his lips to yours.

His hand squeezes your arm tightly as he groans against you tongue sliding back inside your mouth. You run your fingers through his hair gently tousling the curls as the kiss becomes more heated. Fred is the first to pull away breathless, lips covered in your lipstick.

“I’m ready now” you say capturing your breath.

“Sure you don’t need another minute” he smirks pulling your face forward for another heated kiss. His tongue slips inside your mouth, your hand gently raking through his scruffy beard.

“So if it’s bad luck to see each other on the wedding day, what do you think kissing is?” he laughs against your lips.

“Let’s go” you rise to your feet pulling him up. Feet firmly planted on the ground you finally feel grounded. He pulls you back into his chest your arms tangling behind his jacket and he presses one last kiss to your forehead. The two of you stand there for a few minutes before you pull back. “You have lipstick all over your face” you tease.

“You’re naked and late to the ceremony” he quips back. “See you down there babe” he presses his lips back to yours before slipping back out the door.

“For years I’ve watched guys stare at their families through the glass, smiling at their wives and doing some pregame ritual with their kids. I never realized just how jealous I was of them until I saw you on the other side.”

You smile at Fred, the gentle breeze blowing through your hair, warm sun shining on you. The pond is your back drop a low chirping of birds and rustling of trees can be heard. Even though you saw Fred not too long ago, walking down the aisle was the first time you managed to take him in. Swathed in smooth navy, his hair slicked back, sun reflecting off his red hair. Everything you could have imagined in life standing a few feet away. Your hands gently resting in his as he recites his vows, you having just finished yours.

“When I saw you there bouncing Oliver in your arms I knew I wanted you there for every game. That I need you to be there every game. Feelings I thought were gone were suddenly awakened seeing you with our son. I knew I could have everything I ever wanted in life all I had to do was yes to love…and get you to agree.”

You roll your eyes and a few members of the wedding party chuckle but he continues on unfazed. “You are so funny and always able to make me laugh. But I don’t love you because you are funny or smart or kind, I love you because you are my best friend. I love how when you smile you get these cute crinkles by the corner of your eyes and the dimples in your cheeks. How when your favourite song comes on you will involuntarily start dancing while you cook dinner or make yourself a tea. That when you are truly happy your face lights up with the purest of radiance.”

You hear some commotion to the side cutting Fred off. You and try to ignore it, Fred clearing his throat when it gets louder. A smirk crosses both your faces glancing to the side to see Noah fussing. Fred opens his mouth but is cut off by a loud shriek followed by a “momma.” In typical fashion Lucas picks up on the fussiness of his twin and begins to squirm joining in the crying.

“They missed their nap today” Fred explains causing everyone to chuckle. Your eyes glance to the side and you see Charlotte and Ernst trying to soothe the two of them before bringing your gaze back to Fred. There is a sparkle in his eye with a wide grin spread across his face as the twins begins to calm down.

Clearing his throat he goes to start again “I can’t imagine my life without you” he starts but is quickly cut off by their cries again.

“One sec” you take a few steps and pull Noah into your arms. As you grab him Lucas is quick to call out “momma” and make an up motion with his fists. Shaking your head you pull him on to your other hip bouncing the two of them they begin to calm down as you return to Freddie. He quickly pulls Lucas from you, his head falling onto his dad’s shoulder relaxing against him.

Placing a quick kiss on his forehead and brushing some of Noah’s stray hairs he curls up on against you. “Okay ready” you smile taking your one free hand to grip his.

“I love that you are an amazing mother” he laughs bringing a hand up to Noah’s cheek brushing away the few tears that fell. “You are a fierce protective mother, and always put the kids first. Almost to a fault sometimes” he glances towards the boys who are standing up at the altar with you, not with their grandparents a few feet away. A large smile spreads across your face but you don’t care. The past few years your lives have been centered around being a family, and having them up there with you for this feels right.

“I had no idea when I met you that you were going to implode my life, but in the most amazing way possible. But now I can’t imagine a day without you. Standing here with you there isn’t a single thing I would change because it all led me to this point. I only went out for a drink and I got a whole lot more than I bargained for.”

He turns his attention to Lucas and places a soft kiss on his forehead. He has since calmed down and is resting against Fred, his eyes getting heavy. Turning back to you he smiles as Noah sleeps against your shoulder and chuckles. “Can’t believe all this happened because two people got drunk.”

“Geez” you laugh rolling your eyes as a few of the guest’s chuckle in response.

“(Y/N)” the officiant says “repeat after me. I, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), take you Frederik, to be my husband. I promise I will be faithful to you and honest with you; I will respect, trust, help, and care for you. I will continue to share my life with you and build our dreams together. I will love you and honour you, and be by your side for the good and the bad times, as long as we live.”

Taking a deep breath you smile at the man standing in front of you. One arm is holding your tired son, the other is holding onto Fred’s free hand “Jeg (Y/N) (Y/L/N) tager dig Frederik. at være min mand.”

He takes a deep sigh hearing you repeat the words back in Danish. It’s something you have been planning and working towards over the last couple months, trying to embrace this part of his life, your children’s life. Charlotte was eager to help you while she was visiting and you have been working on it since then. You sat down with her a few nights ago to repeat it one more time and she told you it was perfect. That you finally got the few words you have been struggling to pronounce.

“Jeg lover, at jeg vil være tro mod dig og være ærlig over for dig; Jeg vil respektere, stole på, hjælpe og passe på dig. Jeg vil fortsætte med at dele mit liv med dig og bygge vores drømme sammen. Jeg vil elske dig og ære dig og være ved din side til gode og dårlige tider, så længe vi lever.”

As soon as you finish he steps forward and his lips gently brushing against yours. It’s a soft and brief kiss but his hand lands on your hip to keep you close. His tongue traces along your lip, as your mouth opens. Before he can slide his tongue in you hear laughter from the guests. But it’s Oliver announcing “daddy is kissing mommy” that makes you laugh into the kiss and pull away.

“You’re ridiculous” you mumble softly and Fred just shrugs it off smiling wide to you.

Your hand trembles slightly sliding the ring on his finger, partially from the excitement that he is now your husband, but also because it’s slightly more difficult with a baby sleeping in your arms. Once it’s finally on his finger he laces his hands with yours and takes a step closer, minimizing the gap. His eyes drop to your lips, but this time he waits for the minister to tell him to kiss you. He glances slightly to his right before back to you, his tongue licking his lips slightly.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss your wife...again”

Before he even gets the words out Fred ducks down to bring you in for a kiss. Unlike the last one this is full of passion and heat. He slides his tongue in swiping across the inside of your cheek while his free hand finds the small of your back. You groan into the kiss bringing your free hand up to his beard. Your tongues continue to fight for dominance, and you begin to feel heat hit your cheeks.

You never imagined your wedding day kiss would be so heated. Thinking of all the people staring you chuckle lightly and pull away from him, foreheads still touching. Fred has a wide smile as he closes the gap once again, this time for a soft and brief kiss.

Everyone has wide grins on their faces, laughter filling the room around you. Multiple conversations are happening at every table, Fred chatting with Auston and Mitch while you are sitting, watching people enjoy themselves and having an amazing time. Fred’s chair is right beside yours, one hand resting on the tulle that covers your bottom half, a glass of whiskey in his other hand. Scanning around the room you smile taking in your friends and family, alcohol and laughter coursing through them.

Suddenly you hear a shriek and look out to see Lucas with orange juice staining his white shirt. Charlotte is quickly making work with some napkins to try and clean him, but you know it’s no use, the stain unlikely to come out.

“It’s not a big deal” Fred says into your ear.

“I don’t care" you smile turning your attention to Fred.

“You don’t care?” he repeats almost baffled.

“Why would I?” you move closer and breathe in his cologne, your hand landing on his thigh. “We have kids, they spill things, besides that shirt won’t fit him in a couple months anyways. And I’m married to the most amazing man, we have the most amazing kids. All of our friends and family are here, nothing else matters.”

“Almost everyone” he corrects brushing his lips to your temple. “What would they be doing if they were here?”

Taking a sigh you turn to him with a tear lining your eye. “Dad would always have a beer in his hand, walking around talking to everyone. Be the life of the party, laughing with anyone because if he didn’t he’d break down over his daughter getting married.”

“And your mom" he laughs taking a small sip of whiskey.

“She would always have one of the kids in her hands. You wouldn’t see her once without them. She’d hold Ollie and be out on the dance floor with him, rocking E to sleep, and constantly be playing with the twins to get them to laugh. She’d probably miss the cake cutting or a speech so encapsulated with them.

The only thing she wouldn’t miss is the father daughter dance. She’d watch the whole thing tears rolling down her cheeks.” You laugh slightly pulling back some tears.

“They would have loved you” you turn to Fred smiling.

“Yeah? The guy who got their daughter drunk and pregnant after one night?” he laughs.

“Well maybe not at first” you chuckle. “Dad would have hated you then, been an absolute dick to you. Even once we started dating he still would have been short with you, my mom would have had to talk to him. He reluctantly would have invited you golfing to appease both of us but he’d make it known he was only doing this for us and he wasn’t going to have a good time. Then he would see what I see and the two of you would become best friends.

He’d always have your favourite whiskey in the bar, ready and waiting for you. He’d go golfing and play tennis with you on weekends, tell you that you are barbequing wrong“ you say laughing lightly.

“Wish I got to meet them elskede" his lips gently brush against yours.

“Me too" you turn back to the scene unfolding, curling into his chest as his arm wraps around your shoulder. “Me too.”

“Oh my god that is just the cutest thing ever” Steph says staring onto the dance floor. Turning your attention over you see a few couple scattered around dancing before finding what she is talking about. Fred holding your daughter against his chest and you see his lips moving, him whispering to her as she sleeps in his arm, moving with the beat of the song.

You grin wide looking out, leaning against the bar behind you “I know he makes my ovaries explode” you groan as you feel of wetness go straight to your core.

“Watch it or you’ll make baby number five” she adds and you through your head back laughing.

“No, there will be no baby number five” you laugh. “But when he does shit like that it becomes hard for me to not want another.”

“Just wait until he sees your lingerie later he’ll be saying the same thing” Steph smirks winking at you.

Groaning you turn around to face the bar to order a drink while you continue to talk to her. The lights brighten slightly and you hear the DJ say something about a change of pace before feeling the bass vibrate under your feet.

“What are you ladies talking about” Fred asks as you turn around to find him, Auston and Mitch joining you by the bar.

“You guys having baby number 5” Steph teases and Fred chokes on his drink while Auston’s eyes go wide.

“Oh my god I said there will be no baby number 5” you laugh as Fred pulls you into his side, relaxing his grip. “We were actually talking about your girlfriend Maddie” you look to Auston.

The two of them have barely been dating for 6 months; Fred told you he is actually crazy about her, never having seen him like this with a girl. He told you Auston deleted all his dating apps and hookups phones numbers within weeks of meeting her and Fred thinks she could be someone serious for him.

He waited a bit to introduce her to the team and bring her to a game. She is a little more reserved and he didn’t want to overwhelm her with this part of his life, but this is the first time she has been around a large group of players at once.

“Wondering when it will be your wedding” you deflect some of the attention off you and onto him. His cheeks heat up and he shifts on his feet with a smirk on his face.

“It’s a little soon for that” he says softly but a part of you doesn’t believe it. He has basically been attached to her all day, constantly pulling her onto the dance floor, hand resting on the small of her back.

“Stop teasing him, he’s in love” Mitch teases.

“Fucking hate you guys” he mumbles.

“Elise and the twins are heading to bed, Ollie says he hasn’t had cake yet so he won’t go” Fred whispers in your ear. He grips your hand and pulls you over to the kids to say goodnight and goodbye, not seeing them until you return from the honeymoon.

“I don’t know if I’ve told you today, but you are absolutely breathtaking” he murmurs in your ear pulling you back against his chest. You just spent the last few minutes with Oliver spinning him on the dance floor, his laughter almost louder than the music. The lights have been dimmed; mostly it’s the warm glow from the twinkling lights and candles illuminating the space.

“You might have mentioned it once or twice” you turn your head to glance at him.

“Once or twice” he presses his lips to your temple “I need to up my game.”

Leaning back your head rests against his chest watching Oliver lead Mitch to the treat table to grab another cupcake. “You know for someone who never stopped pestering me about her wedding band, you haven’t even looked at it.”

“Oh” you realize. “I guess nothing really matters except the fact that I’m married to you” you smile.

You raise your hand and turn your attention to examine the rose gold band resting around your finger. There are multiple tiny diamonds evenly spaced around the band, shimmering back at you in the light.

“Oh it’s beautiful” you gasp examining the band, spinning it on your finger. Something about it looks familiar but you can’t place it.

“Mhm” he hums. “Recognize it?”

You stop fidgeting the ring and try to think of the one Charlotte has, maybe he had one designed to be similar to it. But her band is gold, and doesn’t have the number of stones placed on it. And you know it isn’t your grandmothers. Her wedding band is the one her mother managed to keep hidden during WWII, it’s a simple gold band with one small stone. But somehow this ring feels very familiar.

After a few minutes you finally sigh and turn your head back to look at him. There is a few beads of sweat in his hair line, only wearing his dress shirt having discarded everything else a while ago due to the heat. The top couple buttons of his shirt are undone, his chain visible on his hard chest.

“No I don’t” you say eyes trained on his.

“It was your moms” he says softly and you feel tears hit the back of your eyes threatening to spill out.

“What?” you choke out turning around in his embrace.

“Your grandmother offered it to me the day I asked them for permission” he explains, hands resting on the small of your back. You bring your hand back up into your view as you other tangles around his back, grabbing a chunk of his fabric.

“You’re dad had good taste” he says leaning down to press his lips to your forehead and a few stray tears start to roll down your cheeks.

“I can’t believe you-“ you choke on your tears sniffling against him. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Seriously? I was so happy when she offered it to me There was no way I wasn’t going to give you this ring. ” He gently brings a hand to yours lacing his fingers with yours and gently spins the band around your finger with his thumb.

“I wish they were here babe but this ring is a part of them. It represents their love, their marriage and their family. I can’t think of a better wedding band for my wife. Every time you look at it you will think of me and my love for you but also the love they shared.”

Your tears continue to fall as he tightens his arms around you. A slow song has begun to play and he slowly rocks the two of you to the beat, holding both of your hands against his chest. He hums the tune, his lips gently pressed against your forehead.

Standing tangled in his arms you have never felt so at ease. You realize that as long as you have Fred, you have everything you will ever need. Everything in life will be okay, and even if it isn’t somehow everything will sort itself out.

“Why don’t you put me down” you giggle as Fred struggles with the key. It’s not a typical key card it is an actual key and he is fumbling to unlock the door while your arms are wrapped around his neck.

“It’s our wedding night, I’m going to carry you over the threshold” he mumbles finally getting the key in.

“So traditional” you smirk pressing your lips to his neck, sucking soft marks under the collar of his shirt. His bow tie was long discarded and top couple buttons released.

“Be a lot easier if you weren’t distracting me” he groans as you gently nip his skin. You chuckle lightly hearing the door unlock as the heavy wood frame creaks open. Stepping inside he kicks his shoes off and the door softly closes behind him. He carries you into the living room of the honey moon suite and you pull back turning your head.

The low flickering of the candles on every surface capturing your eye. Next you see the countless bouquets of flowers, your favourite flowers, scattered around the room. He lets you take it in for a few minutes before bringing you into the bedroom. There is a selection of chocolate covered strawberries and other fruit with champagne waiting on the dresser. A rose petal heart on the bed and he quickly drops you on it, petals scattering around the white duvet.

“You do all this?” you ask softly.

“It’s the honey moon suite babe, I think they just do this” he smirks.

“Uh-huh. And the flowers? They just knew these are my favourite and brought in easily a dozen bouquets.”

“Thirty one” he corrects crawling over to you. “They did the candles, champagne and stuff but I may have called the florist last week about the flowers. For the record they would like more than a weeks’ notice to fulfill this along with the wedding bouquets, centre pieces and everything else. Might have paid a lot for these” he smirks “but you’re worth it.”

“One bouquet wasn’t enough?”

“Nope” he grins as a hand finds the back of your neck pulling you towards him. His lips brush against yours hooking an arm around your back he slowly drops you to the bed, hovering over you he closes the gap with a wide grin on his lips. You moan against him, tongue tracing along his lower lip your hands find his dress shirt grabbing a fist full of fabric. His jacket and vest being long discarded.

Your hand moves to the front of his shirt, giving it a tug to free it from his dress pants. “Someone’s eager” he groans as your fingers find the buttons of his shirt, slowly releasing them.

“I’m just excited to have sex with my husband” you grin emphasizing the word.

“Husband” he smirks against your lips “I like that.”

He pulls away rising to his knees and takes over the buttons of his shirt. He slowly pops the buttons revealing more skin, your eyes wandering over his bare chest. Dragging the fabric off his arms he discards it in a pile in the corner. Next his belt clanks against the wood floor, and he is off the bed. He pushes his pants down his legs tossing them in the pile of clothes, leaving him in just boxers.

Your eyes rake over his body, taking in every curve of his muscle. Taking a deep breaths your hips voluntarily arch up towards him. He grips your wrist pulling you onto your feet and spins you around “This dress looks amazing on you" he hums in your ear.

“Believe it or not it looks better off" you moan.

“Oh baby I know it does" his hands gently rub up and down your arms. His mouth is gently nipping the skin on your neck, his words sending an electric current straight to your core. His large fingers not in a hurry, slowly popping the button. You feel him fumble around your back struggling to undo the small buttons before dragging the zipper down your back.

His hands find your shoulders, gently pressing the straps down your skin but you step away from him. “I have something” you explain walking to the bags in the corner.

You pull out a small bag and Fred immediately knows what is waiting underneath the white tissue. “Save that for tomorrow” he pulls the handle from you dropping it on the floor.

“But I bought it for tonight” you whine.

“Baby I know you are going to look phenomenal in whatever lingerie is in that bag. But honestly I don’t want to wait for you to get changed only to have to take it off two minutes later, that’s two minutes of me not fucking you.”

He ducks his head down, warm air ghosting over your neck “and baby all I want to do tonight is fuck my wife.”

Hearing him call you that almost makes your knees buckle, heat rapidly building in your core. You too want nothing more than to feel his cock stretching you out. “I’m wearing it tomorrow night” you command.

“Look forward to it” his fingers return to your shoulders pressing the fabric down your body. A mess of blush tulle landing at your feet and you step out of it. Fred bends down to grip the back of your legs but you stop him picking up your dress to hang on the back of a chair “it’s expensive “ you shrug.

Once in front of him you push him backwards until his knees hit the bed and he slowly falls back. You drop to your knees in front of his quirking an eyebrow while your fingers toy with his elastic band. You can see the large bulge tenting his boxers making a fire ignite in your core. As you pull the fabric down he lifts his hips slightly his thick member slapping against his stomach.

Your moth waters staring at his throbbing cock, precum dripping form the tip. “Fuck” he groans as your lips wrap around him, tongue cleaning the sticky liquid from his tip.

Your tongue swipes up the vein on the underside of his shaft and his eyes practically roll into the back of his head. Soon you begin bobbing on him taking more and more each time, your hands gently stroking up his thighs.

You swirl your tongue around him, your nose pressing into his pelvis. Your eyes stay locked on his, watching as his snap shut and he takes a few uneasy breaths. Digging your freshly manicured nails into his thigh his hips buck up, tip resting against the back of your throat.

“Babe” he whispers, unable to use his full voice. Although quiet you hear but you don’t stop continuing to bob up and down on his long member.

“Fuck (Y/N)” he says more firmly as one hand begins to gently massage his balls. “You can’t do that.”

He pushes you off him, saliva dribbling down your chin and a pout crossing your face.

“Why?” you pout “I want to suck my husband’s dick.”

He swallows hard at your bluntness, eye lids fluttering. You shoot him an innocent look, squeezing your breasts together between your arms and batting your eyelids to him. Shaking his head he grips your wrist and pulls you harshly onto the bed.

You land hard on the mattress and he quickly rolls over you spreading your knees with his thick thigh. He manipulates you to raise your hips, pulling the remaining piece of fabric, thin white lace, down your legs. “Because baby I want to do this.”

You gasp loudly as two of his fingers find your folds, gently playing with your entrance. He moans feeling how wet you are, wet and full of need, waiting for him. You smile against his touch and his lips gently press into your temple.

“You’re soaked eh” he smirks sliding his two fingers over your heat, coating them in your juices. Before you can respond they part your folds and sink in. His thumb presses into your clit while his fingers begin to fuck in and out of you at a slowly building pace.

“Fred” your entire body squirms at the feeling and you hear a quiet dark chuckle against your neck. His mouth begins to place warm open mouth kisses all over your neck and chest, before finding your breasts. He licks over the orb before sliding his tongue between the valley of them before sucking on your nipple. You slide your hands over his bicep, your feather like touch making his fingers curl into your G-spot.

“I’m gonna cum” you warn feeling the slow build low in your stomach.

“That’s the whole point” he smirks increasing his pace.

“Not fair” you whine at the fact you couldn’t take him to completion but he isn’t going to stop until you do.

“Want me to stop?” he teases popping his head up to look into your eyes.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, your lower lip being pulled through your teeth. In an attempt to answer you only muster a need filled whimper and he just quirks an eyebrow in response continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you, thumb pressing harshly into your clit.

“Good” his lips land on your cheek before finding your collarbone. He nips the skin, dragging his tongue along you “this is my favourite part” he muses.

You tilt your head slightly and he pulls back, dark brown eyes finding yours. He gives you a wink and the coil in your stomach is now tightly bound. A few final thrusts, you chanting his name through breathless pants and it snaps. Pure euphoria floods your veins, toes curling as he slows slightly to draw out your orgasm.

He groans when your nails anchor hard into his back but doesn’t stop, working you through it as warmth spills down his wrist. You’re vision begins to clear, the orgasmic haze lifting. Finally he stops keeping his fingers buried deep inside you but allows your fog to settle.

“I’m so happy I get to do this every day” his lips press to the corner of your mouth “make you fall apart on my fingers,” he places a soft kiss to your jaw slowly takes his finger out of your slick heat. “With my tongue,” he moves to suck on your earlobe and you whimper slightly.

He shifts his weight and his hard member pokes at your entrance. His voice is low and husky and he only pulls away briefly “or around my cock.” A loud gasp tumbles through your lips as he easily slides inside your walls, your juices providing an easy lubricant.

Slowly pulling back he brings his lips to your ears. “The best part though” he growls in your ear “I get to do it with my wife.” His hips snap hitting your cervix in conjunction with his words. Foreheads pressed together and lips ghosting over yours as he begins to rock into you.

A loud groan falls from your lips, they vibrate in your core and your nails scrape along his back, harshly digging into his skin. He adopts a slow and steady rhythm, hitting you deep with each thrust before dragging himself out to do it again. His head drops and he places a soft kiss against your lips. Along your jaw. On your neck. On your breasts.

His mouth is everywhere and you are turning into a mess under him.

Neither of you are in a hurry, relishing in the feeling. It’s not a new experience, you under him, leg wrapped around his waist as he loves you. But tonight it’s different.

Your first time married.

First time with your husband.

And because of that it hits different.

Your hands snake around his neck, tilting his head to pull him closer. His mouth quickly finds yours while you roll your hips up to meet his. He groans at your movements continuing to drive into you a hand finding your breast. He begins to gently massage your orb, rolling the nipple through his fingers his tongue swiping inside your cheeks.

You whimper into his mouth and he buries his hips against yours in response. Each thrust is deep and calculated, as he slowly drags his cock back. He almost pulls out completely but drops back into you, his tip pressing against your cervix.

He has you right where he wants you, teetering on the edge. Your heel digs into his back and you feel his lips curl upwards against you “let go for me baby” he mumbles before bringing you back in for a heated and sloppy kiss.

Soon he pulls back slightly, lips hovering above yours. Grunts and moans fill the room as you both approach your highs.

“Gå videre baby slip. jeg har dig” he coos in your ear (go ahead baby, I got you). Almost if on cue your second orgasm crashes over you. Still reeling from your first it’s intense and your entire body erupts with tiny flames. Limbs are tingling, incoherent sounds spilling from your lips.

He continues to mumble into your ear but you can’t focus on anything. His deep voice fades into the background as you shudder under him. Upon feeling your walls flutter around him Fred begins to feel his release. Giving you a final few thrusts he spills coating your insides with everything he has.

He collapses on you, his head landing on your shoulder. Coming down from your high you can feel some warm cum spilling around his cock and down the inside of your thighs. But the two of you continue to lay there, your fingers gently playing with his hair.

Finally the two of you have partially recaptured your breaths and he pushes himself off of you. Sweat is dripping from his roots glistening on his forehead but instead of pulling away me mumbles into the crook of your neck peppering kisses along your collarbone.

“I love you so much” he smiles. “My wife.”

“That’s a lot of food for the two of us" you laugh as Fred wheels the tray of food to beside the bed. There are plates of bacon and hash browns, scrambled eggs, a gigantic tower of pancakes and a few bowls of fruit.

You take one of the cups of coffee bringing it your lips, the faint hazelnut smell filling the air around you. Before you can take a sip there is a knock on the door.

With a soft grin he presses his lips to your temple and walks away. You sit silently trying to guess who is at the door when suddenly you hear the light pitter patter of Oliver’s feet followed by one of the twins light squeal.

You set your cup down just in time for Oliver to jump on the bed and wrap his arms around your neck as he tells you about his sleepover with Amalie last night. You help Lucas onto the bed when Fred rounds the corner with Noah and Elise tight to his chest. He quickly drops Noah onto your legs.

“My babies" you laugh pulling all three boys in for kisses on their cheeks. Fred sets Elise in the middle of the bed and begins cutting some food for the kids.

“What are you doing here?” you ask tickling Oliver. He squeals with excitement unable to capture his breath.

“We’re having breakfast” Ollie laughs.

“Figured you’d want to see them for a few hours before I whisk you away on our honeymoon. Get in some last minute snuggles" Fred explains as you release your toddler so he can take his breakfast from his dad.

Noah curls into your lap and you rest your chin on his head, holding him tight against your chest. Before you can reply Lucas climbs in beside him and you wrap your other arm around him.

“This is perfect” you say as Noah begins to whine, Lucas invading his space. Elise begins to cry and Oliver is talking a mile a minute about all the fun he had last night.

“This is perfect" Fred jokes setting the plate of food for the twins down and grabbing Elise to try and soothe her. “I can barely hear myself think" he laughs kissing her forehead bouncing her in his arms “it’s chaos.”

“Yeah but it’s our chaos” you smile pressing a soft kiss on both of your twins foreheads.

***

“(Y/N)” you hear Fred softly call out to you. “Were almost there.”

His lips press against your cheek and your eyes slowly flutter open. Reaching out he grasps your hand and helps you sit while you reach out to stretch.

You have no idea how long you’ve been on the plane, having fallen asleep but you are happy to know you will soon be getting off and can properly stretch your legs. You tried to get Fred to tell you where you’re going about twenty times, but he refused any information, not even giving you hints.

“Where are we" you push the blanket off your body as the seat rises back up. Taking the blanket from you he reaches over to grab the sun shade from the window and pulls it up “take a look.”

Excitement washes over you and you eagerly turn your head to look out. You blink a few times unsure if it’s from the sunlight flooding in, or if it’s shock unsure you are actually seeing the skyline through the glass.

“You didn’t” you gasp.

“Mhm" he hums pressing his chest against your back. Warm lips hit your neck for a soft kiss before he pulls back lips ghosting over your ear “you always said you wanted to go here, seemed like the perfect time to do it.”

You manage to pry your eyes and turn your face slightly to meet him “I can’t believe you did this" you say softly. His lips gently brush against yours “I’d do anything for my wife.”

***

Authors Note: This is the final chapter of this series, I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading it, this story started as the first thing i ever wrote. And it slowly evolved into something.

I wish I could commit to keeping it going but I have been struggling with the story the last few chapters (I always had the plan it was the getting pen to paper). So that is why I decided to end it, my original outline only had 31 chapters though so I’m glad I was able to expand on it.

#because two people got drunk #because two people got drunk fic #frederik andersen #frederik andersen fic #frederik andersen x reader #frederik andersen smut #freddie andersen smut #Freddie Andersen #freddie andersen x reader #freddie andersen fic #fred andersen #fred andersen smut #fred andersen x reader #Fred Andersen Fic #nhl smut #NHL Fic

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all-things-fic · 4 years

Text

Stay Still

A/N: Welcome to another day in quarantine. Here’s part two of Quarantine Harry which I wasn’t expecting to happen, to be honest with you all. Hopefully it lives up to any expectations. As always, stay safe and let me know what you think! Loads of love to you all.

Shout out as always to people I have pestered with this one. @waitingfortwilight for always being the ultimate babe, @harryfeatgaga for being hype woman of the century, @huccimermaidshirts for telling it to me how it is and @haute-romance-quotidienne for fuelling fantasy and possibly making it so we could get a part three!

Enjoy everyone! .x

***

You frowned softly at the intrusion of the morning light against your eyelids. The sound of a soft whistle hit your ears as you slowly roused for another day in quarantine. The sound of the bathroom tap shutting off brought a sense of stillness after Harry had brushed his teeth and washed his hands.

Keeping your eyes closed you heard the way Harry tip-toed around your bedroom, his feet heavy against the flooring regardless of how much he tried to overcompensate in trying to be as quiet as possible.

A small smile pulled at your lips as you imagined him acting like some drunken teenager trying not to wake his parents as he entered the house after a night out; worse for wear and not interested in being read the riot act for not sensibly drinking.

The sheets next to your feet felt heavier than usual, before suddenly becoming lighter again. You heard the rustle of clothing, followed by a light grunt from Harry as he got dressed at the end of your bed.

Head pushed through the neck of his hoodie, Harry fixed the hood on the clothing item before walking the short distance to the drawers that housed his undergarments and socks.

The sound of the wood sliding against the draw hinges caused you to cringe, before you bit away your smile as he whispered ‘shit, shit, shit’ quickly in succession due to how unsuccessful he was in not being noisy.

Turning around, Harry saw the way the sheets moved, the up and down of your shoulders letting him know you were laughing at the awful job he was doing.

“‘S that you laughing at me over there?”

Harry’s deep morning voice broke through the sleep-filled silence. He stood, still at the end of the bed, looking down the length of your body and willing you to pop your head up to look at him.

“Can see your shoulders moving under the sheets y’know?”

Still hidden by a mound of sheets and luxurious duvet, he heard your less than impressed response. “You’re so shit at being quiet.”

“Who even said that ‘m trying,” he scoffed, trying to pass off his clumsiness as something he had planned, letting his feet take him over to the other side of your bed. To his side.

You felt the familiar dip to the bed, and as he sat down you rolled over to your opposite side to be greeted with the expanse of his back. A soft groan left Harry’s lips as he leaned down to pull on his socks, you guessed his socks simply from the way you heard the band snap against his calves.

When he sat back up straight, you watched as he stretched up and rolled his neck to the side, left and right.

You weren’t prepared for his stare when he turned his head quickly to his right, looking over his shoulder at you. God, he was so frustratingly handsome.

Over the last couple of days, you’d watched Harry relax in a way that you’d yet to completely get to enjoy. His hair had grown to a length that had your fingers itching to braid at the locks sitting at the top of his head, his facial hair becoming darker, the thicker it got with each passing day that was crossed off on the kitchen calendar.

And his body. Where did you begin?

He had confessed to you a couple of nights ago he was considering getting a lock for the fridge. The two of you for some unknown reason falling into a fit of giggles after he’d said it as you lay along the couch together.

It was something to do with the desperation in his voice when he’d confessed his lack of self control. The rant he’d gone on about how much bread he was eating and how he knew he was ‘just being a greedy bastard’ but he couldn’t help it.

The thing was, he was working out with it too. You knew that simply because you’d spent far too many hours of the day telling him to ‘shift these bloody weights’ as you stubbed your toe for the fifth time in the space of a week.

He definitely was putting you to shame.

Quarantine really was working out for him. His thighs spoke for themselves, and you were sure one day he was going to split the shorts he appeared to be pouring himself into each morning to either do a weights or HIIT session in the middle of the lounge, or the garden if he fancied a change in setting.

The only thing you had found yourself lifting had been the fork that housed carb after carb. Pasta and potatoes mainly.

You were also lifting liquids to your lips too, staying hydrated was key in quarantine. And luckily for you the cases of wine and champagne that had gone untouched at your wedding towards the latter end of the previous year were buried in the garage of a house that you hadn’t ever thought you’d call home. Lack of flight paths back home and the closing of borders had changed that thought for you however.

Burying yourself deeper in the pillow beneath the side of your face, you watched Harry as he softly smiled taking in your less than impressed expression.

“Woken up on the wrong side of the bed or summat?” He teased, watching the way your expression scrunched up at him and his annoying love of early mornings.

“It’s not my fault someone kept me up half the night-“

“Didn’t ‘ear yer complaining last night,” his voice teetered off, eyebrows raised.

“Well, ‘m complaining now,” you pushed out your bottom lip, challenging him in a petulant way.

He laughed down his nose, shaking his head as he reached up to pick at the strings of his hoodie. Chin tilted up to the ceiling, you heard the way his tone of voice changed to a strain as he concentrated on tying his usual bow at his neck.

It was almost like he thought of himself as some form of present.

“‘Av at it then,” he encouraged you to bitch at him with whatever it was that had made you moody. “Eating into m’workout time so best be a good’en.”

“Piss off, you’re not even interested,” you scowled at him, knocking away at his hand as it reached out to touch you.

“Oi,” he frowned. “Don’t do tha’, don’t be like that.”

“‘M not being like anything.”

Harry’s eyes hardened as they looked at you, holding your gaze with his. You didn’t dare look away or crack a smile, even when you saw his lips start twitching as he found amusement in your childlike pouting.

Before you knew it, Harry had twisted his body so he was leaning over you, his presence welcomed rather than intimidating. His forearm pressed into the pillow at the side of your head as his free hand brushed at your slightly wild bed head.

“Gimme a kiss,” he muttered, his lips close to yours. You shook your head, with a small frown thrown at him. “Really gonna let me leave wi’out one?”

You hummed “‘s what you deserve.”

“‘S what I deserve? Me? What ‘ave I done?” He questioned. “You ‘ad a bad dream ‘bout me or summat?”

The silence that lingered after his question had you blushing under his gaze, as you focused anywhere but his eyes.

“Wha’ did I do this time?” He chuckled, feeling you shift in the soft hold of his arm. “Sorry that dream me is a bit of a knob’ead, I’ll ‘av a word.”

“You better,” you huffed.

“‘S as good as done, ‘f you let me have tha’ kiss,” he whispered, leaning in and pressing his face against the skin of your cheek.

His attempt at bribery meant he had basically won you over the minute he rubbed his lips down your chin and jaw, the feel of his beard harsher against your sensitive morning skin that still held its warmth from your nights sleep.

“Harry,” you giggled, wanting to curse yourself out at how you had buckled under him. Body tense as your head dipped into the pillow below as you tried to get away from the tickle of his facial hair.

Mouth pressed to your neck, Harry chuckled before opening his lips and leaving a gentle suckle against your pulse point while your fingers wove into his longer than usual hair. He knew he had you in the palm of his hand.

Your voice was breathy when it next spoke to him, velvety and happy as he nudged his nose lovingly along your skin. “Stop being a daft git.”

“Know exactly what would sort you out,” he whispered in return, making his way back up to your lips. “Come an’ hike wi’me,” he drawled, watching the way your eyes lulled to a hooded gaze.

You started to groan as Harry left a soft but pert peck to your lips. “‘M leaving in five,” he said, hand sliding down your back that was covered in your duvet. “Up yer get, meet you downstairs.”

The jolt of his hand against your bum, two swift and dull claps against the duvet material surprised you, before he pushed his body up and swiftly left your bedroom ready to start a new day.

***

You didn’t like the message that was on his hat.

You hated even more so that you were letting it bother you.

The horrible 70s font of ‘free and easy’ was unnecessarily winding you up. This man was a married man. Hardly the correct message to be portraying.

Eyes watched as Harry walked heavily in front of you, attacking the hill that you were both climbing, you lingered behind him.

His legs, the muscles in them we’re enticing to you but only in a way that was winding you up. How was he so fucking tanned already? His skin was so weathered that it always managed to piss you off at just how quickly he became a lovely shade of golden. His legs tanned better than yours did. In fact his everything tanned better than you did. His everything in general was doing better than yours.

Here you were once again being irritable. Frowning at anything and everything. Snappy but unable to figure out why. He was always so happy, you know? And you loved it, you really did but sometimes it was too much.

California had many a hiking spot. The knowledge of making it easily one of the best things about the place. Anything else, you could do without, but the hiking was always worth the struggle it took to even convince you to take part in the first place.

The sound of the gravel beneath your trainers, the sun beating down onto your skin, you watched as Harry’s trainer clad feet started to turn to you as he began to halt his pace.

Huffing and puffing your way behind Harry, you watched the way he tugged at the straps of his backpack and trekked along the desert like ground beneath your feet.

Looking up at him, you saw him move his sunglasses off his eyes and you swore if he placed them on top of the peak of his hat you were going to divorce him. Luckily, for him, he didn’t.

Sunglasses folded in his hand, you squinted up at him and waited for whatever it was he was going to say. “Told you, you should’ve brought a hat,” he shouted down to you, his voice carrying as you were surrounded by nothing but open space.

“I’m fine, just need to keep hydrated,” you held your water bottle up to him.

“You sure? You’re so slow-“

Before you could stop yourself you snapped at his teasing, “I’m social distancing, Harry!”

His eyes were wide from your response, his lips rolling into his mouth as he looked on at you harshly pulling open the lid of your water bottle and taking a large sip of your drink.

“Alright,” he dragged the word, his tone pitched slightly higher. “Like a bear wi’a sore head this morning, aren’t ya?”

“‘M beginning to think dream you is a lot better than real-life you,” you spoke, eyes refusing to look at him as you checked to see if anyone was around while you.

“‘S not true,” he softly responded, walking back down the hill to be closer to you. You knew he was right as well. “What’s up with you?”

Again you stubbornly took a sip of your water and squinted in the sunlight. “Darlin’,” Harry coaxed. “D’ya think-“

“No,” you stopped him before he could even begin to let his head carry himself away down the rabbit hole of baby talk. The baby talk that had been planted by his mother to begin with, the one thing that he had previously been trying to nip in the bud.

He was back to being amused again, you knew before you even chanced a glance at him from the corner of your vision.

The smile he wore was fleeting, barely there but reassuring all the same. Just one look in your eyes, properly, made him aware of the rush of uncertainty you had felt about the whole thing.

“Alright, ‘s fine either way though. Just so you know.”

***

Had your husband always been this hot or was it because he was about to feed you?

That was a question that was more and more frequently popping into your head with each passing day.

By the time you’d gotten back home from hiking, you were edging closer to lunch time and the growling of your stomach meant your mood was only going to get worse. If that were even possible.

You’d taken great delight in letting Harry know that no uplifting endorphins had found their way into your body after spending just under two hours, including the time you’d hiked and the time you’d been stuck in California traffic.

He had done nothing more than take every single thing you had thrown at him, as he wrapped his hand around yours and kissed at your knuckles affectionately.

Now you sat on the island counter in your kitchen, legs lightly swinging as you watched Harry boil pasta and simultaneously let your meat simmer away.

Next to you sat a glass of white wine, taunting. Harry’s wine was half-drank on the kitchen side as he talked through some tour logistics with Jeff. It felt like a massive elephant in the room. There was no denial.

Harry had picked your favourite wine, made this big deal about putting a ridiculous amount of effort in cooking lunch when usually the two opted for some picky foods of breads, meats and salad, given the hotter weather than you were used to at this time of year.

You warmed thinking about the trouble that he was going to but it wasn’t enough to shake the way you felt on edge with nerves.

“Speak to you tomorrow, mate,” he chuckled. “Stay safe, tell Glenne I’m sorry she’s stuck inside with you.”

A small smile played on your lips as you heard expletives through the other line from Jeff, before Harry cut him off.

Phone tossed to the side, the noise of sliding it along the counter filled your ears before Harry spoke over the noise of his cooking, “Even he’s pissed of wi’me. Got it in stereo at home from the wife and from m’mate.”

You knew he was joking from the glance he threw at you as he stood in front of you, before reaching to his right for his glass of wine. Your eyes were drawn to his Adam’s Apple as he swallowed, wine glass clinking down before he spun around to walk to you.

As you admired him, you smiled thinking about how he’d yet to take a shower. Instead he’d let you go and enjoy the first soak of the day, underneath the steamy hot water.

“Legs,” he commented, requesting you lift them up straight so he could get to the cutlery drawer that you were covering.

You did so, feeling his right hand wrap gently underneath your one calf to help you keep them up. His left hand pulled at the draw, the rattle of the metal knives, forks and spoons, sounding heavily into the room.

He plucked up a fork easily, pushing the draw back into its place with his hip.

“I do appreciate you, you know?” You questioned, watching the way he lingered close to you. You watched him, messy hair in his eyes and knotted to high heaven. “Sorry for being in your ear all day,” you continued, eyes careful as you looked at Harry.

“Can’t quite hear yer over the cooking,” he mused. “Wha’ was tha’?”

“You heard me fine.”

He smiled, repeating your words back to you. Humming happily, eyebrows slightly raise, “I heard you just fine.”

Arms boxing you in, Harry’s shoulders were hunched as he stood between your legs. “Gonna let me have tha’ kiss now?”

“You’ve had plenty-“

“Not a proper ‘un,” he protested, enjoying the feel of your fingers brushing back his hair out of his eyes. Face wincing as you tried to remove any of the knots from his chestnut brown strands.

“Need to do something about this,” you spoke wistfully, changing the subject, eyes concentrating on your fingers as they continued to comb through his hair, taking it away from covering his expressive, as ever, face.

“We’re not at that stage in quarantine where we start having to cut me hair, no chance,” he deadpanned, his eyes enjoying the way your expression lightened with his lack of desire to your addition to the conversation.

“Reckon I could give you a lovely bowl cut,” you shot back, realising how quiet he had gone on you. Softly slowing the movements of your fingers, you let your eyes drop down to meet his gentle gaze. “What?” you asked, voice barely there, his expression very pleasing to your eye as his hair softly fell in a middle parting, tousled and very nineties.

“‘Seem a bit happier, hm,” he acknowledged, enjoying the way your hands had moved from his hand now to rest lightly at the sides of his neck. “Not fancy your wine?”

And just like that nerves swirled in your stomach again.

You scrunched your nose up at him, giving him a soft shake of your head. His eyes brightened and you knew exactly what he was thinking. You hated that you were thinking it too.

“Think I’m late too,” you admitted, seeing the way his nostrils flared as he took a deep breath in. His chest heaved, before he blew out the most happy sigh.

“‘S fine,” he responded.

“Don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.”

“You’re not.”

“If you could see your face,” you shook your head, dropping your hands away from his neck.

“If I could see my face, what?” He jutted out his lips in question, his hands gently clasping yours and lifting them to wrap around the back of his neck this time.

“How you’re looking at me-“

“How I always look at you,” he mumbled. “Like you hung the fuckin’ moon. Stop worrying.”

Running your tongue across your teeth, you took in a deep breath. “Stop it,” Harry warned, the two words clipped, his hands setting themselves to the top of your thighs. “We’re just prepping a nice lunch, gonna eat it out on the patio, in the sun-“

“I don’t even think we’ve got a test lying around here, if we’d have been in London-“

“Baby,” he cut you off.

You swallowed heavily.

“When you think about it, this couldn’t have come at a worse time-“

He spoke your name harshly as he cut you off, his face hardening at your words. Nervously chewing on your bottom lip, you fidgeted under his gaze. “I didn’t, I don’t mean it how it sounds,” you knocked your head back so your eyes met the ceiling of your kitchen.

You could feel him scrutinising you. His gaze never fleeting as he watched you come to terms with all the possibilities.

“I mean, we aren’t even going to be able to get to a doctor. They aren’t seeing anyone right now and-“

“And we don’t even know if we are,” he soothed, reaching for your face and wanting your eyes back on his. He hated the worry that had stolen this moment from you. The shy giggles and nervous rambles, around passionate kisses and lingering pecks that usually were part of any pregnancy talk between the two of you.

But I think I want to be, you thought, eyes glossy as they looked at Harry. Leaning forward, he welcomed your weight as you rested against him. With a heaved sighed you spoke, “God, I could really use that glass of wine right now.”

***

The record player in your lounge was the only thing keeping you sane at this point in the afternoon. The soft hum of Billy Joel playing around the room on the lowest volume, enough to keep you out of your own head.

There was something about songs that were piano heavy that managed to instantly soothe you.

It had felt like forever since Harry had slipped away from you as you stood at the kitchen sink, rinsing off your empty plates before placing them into the dishwasher. Your eyes glancing over at him just in time to watch him pull off his sweat laced t-shirt, tugging the collar upwards and revealing his broadening back.

Since then all you had heard alongside the crooning of your favourite record was the sound of the shower running, the occasional croon also leaving Harry’s throat slightly drowned out by the sound of running water.

As you sat, head tilted against the back of your couch, a soft smile hit your lips when you heard the water shut off. Not long after the soft, low singing voice of Harry filtered through your landing and downstairs.

The sentimental softness in that moment had you sinking further into your hoodie and pressing your nose into its neckline. You couldn’t help but smile as you heard how heavy footed Harry was being upstairs, a harsh contrast in comparison to the softness of his singing voice.

“‘S one of your faves, this one innit?” You heard his voice boom, cutting through the peace and quiet that had formed of its own accord after he’d dragged himself upstairs. You loved it when he commented on songs you liked.

Eyes closed, you imagined him leaning over the banister on the landing and shouting down the stairs to you in conversation between the floors of your home.

Choosing not to answer, you continued to mutter under your breath the lyrics and tried to ignore the havoc Harry was making upstairs in your bathroom.

There was a loud crash upstairs, before you heard a delayed curse of ‘bollocks’ from Harry.

His voice suddenly became clear as he shouted down, “‘s fine, nothing’s broken just knocked off some stuff of the ledge. Definitely not watching it leak everywhere right now.”

Your mother used to always tell you she used to count to ten with your father. Now you understood what she meant in saying that.

Men really liked meddling when they were bored. You were used to it by now. Pick your battles. Let it be like water off a duck's back.

Continuing to try and tune him out, you listened carefully as he pottered around upstairs. It wasn’t much after that you heard him descend down your stairs, and pad his way through your house into your lounge.

Harry stood in the doorway, watching as you sat with your eyes closed, trying to find some form of stillness. Softly clearing his throat, he kept his one hand behind his back while the other clasped tightly at the white towel that sat against his waist.

Eyes fluttering, you knocked your head slightly to your left and stayed quiet as you took the vision in front of you.

One thing that always amazed you about Harry was the way that he managed to almost fill the entirety of a doorway but never look menacing. His body was broader, the pecs of his chest more defined. The hair between them darker regardless of how he’d been shirtless in the sun. You took delight in that cause that meant his chest hair was getting thicker.

You eyed him, spending time on enjoying his rounded tummy and how much he was clinging on for dear life to the towel.

“No big towels left in the airing cupboard,” his voice broke your shared silence, causing you to sweep your eyes back up to his face. “Think you need to do some laundry.”

The smarmy, amused expression after his comment, made you shake your head. “You’ve got hands as well, you know?”

He didn’t answer your question, continuing to let the wet strands of his hair drip over his face and down his naked chest. “If you stand in the middle of the doorway any longer people will think we’ve got a flasher in our home.”

The frown that pulled onto his face made the smallest amount of laughter leave your chest.

“‘Ere,” he lazily spoke, throwing an item onto your coffee table. The noise of it sliding along the wood pulled your eyes away from watching him and onto the item that he had just gently thrown. “Just found this hidin’ at the back of the cupboard under the sink.”

That explained what all the knocking was.

Barely lifting your head to take in the item, you already knew what he was referring to. Eyes back on him, you watched as he fidgeted with his towel again. This time, opening the item slightly wider than necessary as he pulled it tighter around his thickening body and folded it in to keep itself together.

Turning his back to face you, you watched as he tried to drop his body down onto your couch. You made a noise of disapproval, seeing him still in a hunched over position. Harry turned his eyes to look at you over his right shoulder. His stare asked you what the problem was.

“You’re all wet,” you lightly screeched at him, watching him softly roll his eyes and twist his body to plonk himself down onto the coffee table opposite you instead.

In the silence, Harry once again began to pull at the towel at his waist. “For god sake,” you whispered, “put it away, will you?”

“‘S wha’ ‘m trying to do,” he argued in return, as he fidgeted with the white cotton and tried to cover his modesty. “Christ, you could just keep your eyes up ‘ere.”

“What’s happening here,” you joked, lifting up your foot from where it sat perched on the coffee table and poking at his stomach with it. His stomach really was rounding out and you found yourself loving it, any comment you were making simply out of pestering affection. “That’ll be those twenty trips a day to the fridge.”

“I’m possibly eating for two but I won’t know without the test,” he deadpanned, reaching up with both his hands and brushing back his wet and heavy hair. You smiled when it fell back in his after he pressed his forearms into his thighs, wanting to lean forward to get closer to you.

He wasn’t trying to conceal himself at all, his man spread the biggest you’d seen from him for a while. The towel gaped more than ever.

“Like you need anymore of excuse,” you responded, flashing him a false smile. You watched as he pressed his tongue to the corner of his mouth, trying to stop his laugh at you jokingly commenting again on his quarantine eating habits.

“‘S not very nice is it, that? To the potential father of your unborn child.”

You howled at that one, head falling back against the couch. “Potential father,” you squealed. “I’ve not been holed up in the house shagging anyone else, have I?”

Your laughter was too much. His silence said it all. There was no doubt a scowl over his features as you laughed at him.

“Dunno? Have you?” He sulked as he spoke back, annoyed you’d got one over him. “Might’ve done, this house is bloody massive.”

Letting your laughter die down, you pressed your lips together as you looked at him. Swinging your legs down you leaned in, squeezing his chin and jaw in one hand.

You melted at how pouty his lips became, his cheeks smushed as you pecked at his lips.

“One man, that’s it.”

He hummed, as you dropped your forehead to him. “Must have decent swimmers.”

“Swear to god,” you muttered under your breath, causing him to breathily chuckle.

This was the man you’d chosen to marry.

***

His back faced you as he slept. The dim light from the early morning seeping into your room from the slight crack that had been left in your curtains, thanks to the way Harry had poorly pulled them together the night before.

The sound of Harry’s deep breathing had your eyes lulling as you continued to allow them to roam over the expanse of his bare back and tousled hair.

Hazy eyes tried their best to zone in on Harry’s figure as he lay sleeping. It was nice to wake up before him, to get the opportunity to admire him at your own pace rather than peeking a glance his way as he whooshed through the room like a tornado like every other morning.

The smell of your newly washed bed sheets was alluring as you lay against your soft mattress, almost too alluring.

A faint snore left Harry causing you to softly smile as you saw the way his week had somehow managed to catch up with him. He’d done this thing where he’d taken it upon himself, to make himself work. He couldn’t tour, that was out of his control. And you knew that regardless of how much he tried to play it off, he was struggling with how he couldn’t change it.

Probably why he was throwing himself at every radio station possible.

Part of you was jealous that he was still sleeping, but the other felt warm in knowing he was allowing himself to switch off for this long today. That his work had been forgone and he was allowing himself to rest.

The last couple of days had been strange as you had become hyper-aware of your body and how it felt, the way in which it was reacting to smell and taste. To the touch of your husband.

And touch you he had. Harry was always tactile but as the potential news that you could be having a baby had made him even more so. His hands never really left you.

They were against your thigh when you sat close to him as you ate your breakfast together every morning. Fingers usually softly cupped around your thigh, sometimes trapped between both thighs if he thought he was being funny in dragging his hand higher up your leg in an outdoor setting.

That would usually drag a lazily, morning laugh from him. Pleased with his flirtatious antagonising.

Fingers would gently take to playing with yours in the evening, as Harry seemed to master the art in eating his evening dinner with just one hand. Gone was the use of a knife, as he would tilt his fork to the side to cut through whatever food you had cooked that evening.

The fork would even clatter against the plate to allow him to reach for his evening tipple of choice, rather than break how he was holding your hand, which was usually your left.

You’d noted he was still so enamoured by your wedding band which had joined your engagement ring. He usually would find himself gently plucking at the cushion cut diamond to make sure it was sitting central on your finger.

In this moment as you lay in bed, you supposed him taking time to touch you was his way to stay grounded. He’d been outrageously busy since your hike just three days earlier, more for someone who was in lockdown and made his living by singing music live.

The work was a blessing in disguise though as it had drawn his attention away from the pregnancy test that had found its place back under the bathroom sink, connected to your room.

It had allowed you to get out of your head for the last seventy-two hours. Breeze around like the newlyweds that you were, still basking sickeningly in how amazed you were by everything the other was doing.

It was hard not to get in your head now, though.

Laying awake and in a dream-like state, you always felt your body’s sensitivities more so when you had first woken up. It was one of the things that made morning sex your favourite.

But your body sensitivity seemed to linger more so now than ever. It didn’t make itself known solely in the morning. It was around when you took the chance to lay in the morning sun just before it peaked at midday.

You’d found that your skin became itchy, a form of prickly heat spreading over you, a lot quicker now and while it wasn’t something new your worry was already heightened tenfold since the pregnancy suggestion had even become a thing.

The first time it had happened, and you’d become irritated Wednesday, you cursed at your body for playing some sort of sick April Fools trick on your with it being the first day of the new month.

Harry’s deep chuckle against the soft skin of your shoulder hadn’t done anything to soothe you. “Just sit in the shade, grab one of m’old shirts and lounge in summat loose,” he had suggested a couple of days earlier.

You’d panicked at the time, regardless of his calm demeanour when hours later the red dots on your skin had remained, “I just don’t understand where this small rash has come from.”

“Where?” He’d set his tone, “Lemme ‘ave a look.”

From where he stood behind you, you shifted your - his - baggy dress shirt from where it was loosely buttoned up and draped over your body. His chin was resting against your shoulder as he looked down your shirt, catching sight of the light sprinkle of red dots on your skin.

“Looks like prickly heat t’me,” he hummed, knowing just how itchy heat rash could get. “Come take a cool bath wi’me, it’ll help.”

That cool bath had helped, a lot actually.

But away from your thoughts, in the present moment, the cool bath that had previously soothed you wouldn’t help this time. This sensitivity was the kind that had you wincing when clothes ran against you.

To put it bluntly, your tits were hurting.

There were no two ways about it.

And you didn’t even need to google how that linked to pregnancy because you knew it was a symptom women often had in their first trimester. However you’d had that symptom before and you and Harry were still baby-less.

It didn’t stop the anxiousness that flowed through you, however.

Could be solved by you taking the test though, couldn’t it?

That thought wasn’t wrong. Yet, it was scary.

It would change your life in two ways. Either you were going to become parents or it would make you realise you wanted to become parents. A sense of happiness while splintered with apprehension would either be your feelings of choice, or simple and unbridled disappointment would linger.

Harry’s deeper snore had you blinking yourself out of your blurring stare and let him come back into focus.

Wouldn’t hurt taking a test would it? It’s not like you were officially doing it without him. If you kept the door open as you peed, he would basically have been right there with you.

It would stop you thinking irrationally about the pains in your chest anyway.

Releasing a nervous sigh, you reached out towards Harry and softly touched his bare back. His back that was broadening more and more as quarantine went on. Fingertips lightly tracing at his skin, before your fingers slid up and wove through the hair at the nape of his neck.

You scratched lightly, before pausing when Harry’s breathing patterned changed. All movement from you froze, waiting for him to let you know if he was still sleeping. Instead of waking, you saw the way his body sank back down to relax into the mattress once more.

This noise of contentment left his lips in his sleep, Harry rolling further onto his tummy and pressing his face deeper into his pillow.

He was practically telling you to piss off and leave him be, even in his sleep.

Your hand, from his new position naturally fell away from his head as he was just a little bit out of reach now.

Taking that as a sign to get up and do what you’d been putting off for long enough, you slipped gently out from underneath the duvet.

A sense of sadness flew over you as the sleepy warmth of your bed fell away from your body while you walked around the bed and closer to the bathroom.

Eyes dropping down to your bed, you took in Harry’s face that was less than elegant as he slept. Mouth slightly ajar, his pouty lips were still framed with his thickening beard and a light divot sat between his shaped eyebrows. You fought against the urge to reach out for him and smooth out the disruption to the otherwise even contour of his forehead.

Footsteps sounded loud to your ears but were nothing more than soft pats as you turned to your left and entered your bathroom.

You felt nervous about shutting the door, not wanting anything to wake Harry in that moment. Leaving it ajar to avoid the click it would make as it connected to the doorframe, you bent at the knees and pulled at the cupboard door.

Sleepy eyes landed in the box that had become familiar with you now, slightly shaking hands reaching out for the item and pulling it towards you.

Standing, you - for some reason - couldn’t bring your eyes up to take a look at yourself in the mirror that practically covered the entirety of your sink and hand washing station.

The edges of the box had become quite worn which was hardly surprising given how many times it had been passed between you and Harry on that last day of March.

You didn’t need the instructions. There was no point reaching for them. Instead you went straight for one of the two pregnancy tests that sat wrapped inside and pressed your legs together.

You needed the toilet, of course you did. You’d just woken up. It wasn’t going to be an issue. And that was part of the problem as you stood in your stark white bathroom.

It wasn’t pretty, was it? Anything about pregnancy, you were sure wasn’t going to be airy fairy. The fact you were likely to get pee on your hand in order for you to find out in the first place, summed it up pretty well.

Breathing deeply, you hated the negativity you were forcing yourself to feel as a way to combat your anxiety. Swallowing, you lifted your eyes cautiously to take in your figure.

Wild hair met your eyes first, followed by an incredibly creased white shirt of which the sleeves half swamped your hand. You liked being engulfed in an item of Harry’s clothing, however. It was so hard to come by when you’d first started dating, up until the latter years where he’d taken it upon himself to bulk his body up for tour.

Breathing out a heavy sigh, you rucked up the bottom of the dress shirt and turned to sit on the toilet, clenching your eyes together as you placed the test where it needed to go.

And then you went for it.

How else were you supposed to describe it.

Not that you would ever need to describe this part to anyone. No one ever talked about this part.

Lifting the stick out from between your legs, you pressed it onto the counter to the side and sorted yourself out. Toilet flushed and hands washed, you cringed when the faucet created a noise louder than you wanted but it was out of your control.

Drying your hands you frowned at the faint call of your name, not sure if you were imagining it. Hand wrapped around the door, you pulled it open and caught sight of Harry gently looking at you.

He looked partly disoriented, blinking quickly before he set his gaze on yours. The softest smile you had sworn to have seen grace his face, since you had walked up the aisle to him, met your stare.

Not a word was spoken as he raised his left hand out for you to take, his right arm tucked securely underneath his pillow and he lay down.

“Come get back in back,” he mumbled. “‘S early innit.”

The bathroom light was turned off before you could even say ‘pregnancy test’. The item swamped in darkness as you shut the door and gently walked to your waiting husband.

Eyes dropping from his you noticed the way he’d folded down the covers so they sat against his lower abdomen. The span of his upper body on show for you to see.

“‘S late,” you corrected him when you were stood next to his side of the bed. Hand in his, Harry pulled it and gently placed it against his face, eyes slowly shutting when you found his hair and gently wove your fingers through his unruly waves.

“Refuse to believe it,” he mumbled into your wrist, lifting his head slightly from his pillow to kiss your skin.

“Why? Cause it makes you lazy bones,” you softly laughed, it turning into a squeal as he pulled you down to him, legs straddling either side of his body.

“‘S ‘nough out of you,” he hummed, chin dropping to his chest as he reached up to brush your fallen hair out of your eyes.

You let your eyes flutter shut as you felt the way the pads of his fingers gently skimmed across your face. His gentle touch tickled your skin, a smattering of goosebumps lining in the wake of his touch as he showered you with affection.

You had no other choice but to press yourself down onto him, as he lay against the mattress.

“Bloody obsessed wi’you,” Harry confessed, his eyelids hooded as his vision of you blurred and any light in the room was taken from him from your hair curtaining around your both. “I’d do some foolish fuckin’ things for you.”

“Would you?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, voice low. “Surely you know it an’all.”

“Might do,” you felt the way his lips pulled up into a smile, your lips resting against his rounded cheek. “Might not.”

“You fuckin’ do,” he groaned, head knocking back causing your lips to fall further down his face, “Would give you the clothes off my back, would give you anything.”

“That’s a loaded statement, sure you don’t want to retract it.”

He shook his head, swallowing as he said, “Do with me what you want, doll.”

The rawness to his voice as he spoke had you brushing your nose against his beard, the tickle of his hair something you had grown used to over the never ending days.

He turned his head waiting for you, the sound of his softly gasped name falling off your lips and straight onto his as he hummed happily in return. His hands brushed your hair behind you again as it continued to get in the way.

Breathing heavy against his lips, he smiled when you pulled him closer to you, squashing your noses together as you devoured him. A hum low, in the back of his throat, as you slowed. A confidence warmed you, fingers carding through his hair and gently pulling at his chestnut locks to create a gap between the two of you.

He tried to nudge forward to reclaim your lips, but you stopped his movement with a commanding, “Stay still.”

His jaw clenched, before you soothed the back of your fingers over it. Harry wasn’t always used to you taking charge in any situation, especially not in bed anyway. Not all the time and not with such an authoritarian tone anyway. Usually you played it lightly, a flirtatious push and pull between you both.

“Said I can do what I want with you,” you hummed, watching the way his nostrils flared as his breath picked up. “Gonna take my time-“

You ducked your head, lips sucking his skin the minute they came into contact with the light dusting of his beard that scattered down his throat.

“Never usually get to take my time with my husband,” you trailed off, teeth naughtily grazing at the top of his rounded pecs. He’s usually far too greedy, you though, keeping it to yourself.

Harry’s breathing was heavy now, his chest expanding as he tried to anticipate what was to come. His stomach tensed as your hands got lower.

“Your husband,” he emphasised.

“Know this is your favourite,” you watched him bend his left arm behind his head, raising his head slightly as he looked up at you sitting in his lap.

An amused chuckle reverberated through him. “If it’s with you, yeah, it’s my favourite.”

You dropped your eyes to his right hand as it came up to fiddle with the buttons on his dress shirt. Whilst there weren’t many buttoned up, he still couldn’t see as much of you as he would have liked.

As he unbuttoned, from the bottom up, you began to rock your bare nether region against Harry’s pubic bone, before you pushed back some more and came into contact with the sensitive and wet head of his heavy and waiting cock.

“Mm, found it,” he breathed, biting down on his bottom lip and tilting his chin upwards, eyes peering down his nose at you. “Tha’s what you wanted.”

You knew you should’ve been mad at the way he wasn’t doing what you had asked but there was something about how his right hand sprawled it’s way across your stomach as you rolled yourself messily on top of him. How it had just stayed there, resting, warmly.

With hooded gazed, you watched the way his bottom lip bounced away from his teeth, tongue enticing licking at the luscious pinkness and shining up at you.

“‘S tha’ look for?”

Frown etched between your brows, you appreciatively gasped as you felt the way his cock tucked between your folds as you humped against his wetness.

You were looking at him whatever way you were, because you were obsessed with him too.

Harry slowly pushed himself up, so you were chest to chest now. His lips bumped clumsily to rest on your chin, hand sliding around from your stomach and down your back before gripping at the top of your bum cheeks to keep you to him.

“Glowing, y’know tha’,” he huskily mouthed against your jawline, your head slowly tipping backwards and starting to show the expanse of your heaving chest to him.

Eyes dropping down, he quickly glanced at your boobs, how they pushed against the material of his shirt and how rounded they looked. Definitely looked bigger to him.

He knew he should stop himself, but he couldn’t. He was dying to strip you of the clothing item so he could get a proper look at you.

His hands travel back up the span of your back, nails catching against the cotton of his shirt. You felt him start to bunch the item up as you slowly brought your head back up, just in time to catch the way he set his jaw as he pulled at the final button of the shirt to make it fall open.

That button ripped away from the fabric, lost somewhere forever, mixed between the sheets until you would find it sometime later next week and it would pull you back to the memory of this time you’d had sex.

Harry’s head was already tilted back, his mouth now slightly ajar and lips still shining and pouty. Regardless of how much desire filled his face, you could tell he was waiting for you to tell him off.

He was being too handsy for someone who had been told to stay still.

“You’re not listening to me,” your soft whines were met with this breathy laugh down Harry’s nose.

The silence between you was short before his deep voice said, “Can’t help wanting to have a proper look at you.”

Your bum pushed back into his hands as a response, gliding easily against him regardless of how he held your center snug to his crotch.

“I’m getting hot,” you admitted, the cotton shirt becoming nothing more of a nuisance as it rustled around you. “This is getting in the way.”

Knowing you’d need help to pull the item off, Harry’s hand found their way to the middle of the shirt, slowly peeling the fabric away from your body.

He heard you suck in a breath through your teeth, the wince cutting through the room as he helped you remove the shirt you had picked to sleep in. Hair cascading down your back, you felt him sit up further, pulling your face to his, as he cupped the back of your neck. Shirt long thrown to the bottom of the bed.

“What was tha’?” His question was half lost against your cheek, his hands sliding down your nude back again, his grip strong as his palms found your arse and pulled you tight to him. He tugged you closer to him, a groan of lustful appreciation omitting from his throat.

“Bit tender, this morning,” you whispered, head dropping back as Harry pressed his softly smiling lips against the skin of your clavicle. “Stop it.”

“‘M sayin’ nothin’,” he spoke with a sing-y lilt, far to pleased with himself, softly lifting up and pressing his forehead to your collarbone. “Gonna have to suck on summat else if they’re hurting.”

“Haven’t done that in a while,” you mused, lips lifting as he hummed in agreement.

“Not since the full beard came in,” he wistfully replied. “Come and sit on my face.”

“Harry-“

“Alright, I’ll get back in m’box,” he jested. “Want you that way before I shave it off, at least once. At least-“ he trailed off when you took his mouth with yours again.

It never got old feeling him between your legs, and the two of you just staying like that. Kissing heavily like teenagers and neither of you making the first move.

“Don’t always get what we want.”

“I’ve done alright so far-“ he chuckled when you stilled against him, annoyed at how he had an answer for everything.

Wrapping his arms securely around your back, you felt him lower the two of your back down to your bed. Forearms resting in the sea of pillows, you gripped at the side of his face, “why won’t you just let me have my way?”

“‘S fun like this,” he whispered, keeping his mouth hot and heavy against yours as he breathed.

“You’re just spoiling it for yourself,” you tried to reason with him.

“Believe me I’m not,” he groaned, feeling you start to brush your aching centre over him once more, “I’m driving myself mad with want. Know you are too, know you’re gagging for me.”

You whimpered at his suggestion, breathing getting heavier by the second as you desperately rocked against him in slow, purposeful rubs.

“Darling, just put me in,” he dropped his eyes to look at the rock of your hips, “Have the real thing, have it properly, go on.”

His lazy but deep tone was too much to say no to as you lined him up at your aching warmth.

“Fuck yea,” he bit down on his bottom lip, breathing heavily through his nose. His voice was spent, as he let his mouth hang open, dry and desperate for him to swallow. “Take me,” he barely murmured, as you felt his tip sit at your entrance.

“God,” his worn out voice sounded, his clammy hands moving to rest underneath your nicely raised bum cheeks , “Take me. All of me.”

And just like that he was proved right, you were gagging for him.

His length slipped easily inside you as you sat down upon him and released a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding out in one almighty pant.

You didn’t waste much time once he was inside, leaning your body back and placing your left hand on the top of Harry’s thickening thighs for support, this mass of hair cascading down your back, the tips tickling at the tops of his knees.

Creating a 45-degree angle with the use of his legs, you put yourself on show from him immediately. You both knew this angle helped target you in all the right places, while still giving you ample control over the speed and depth of the thrusts.

You’d gotten exactly what you wanted.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed with Harry how your reclined position was an obvious invitation for him to stroke away at your clit. However, he found himself far too mesmerised by the way your body looked above him to bring himself to do anything but watch.

Your body had changed since he’d last taken you this way, or let you take him. He wasn’t sure where the power lay now and he didn’t care; not in the slightest.

You’d blossomed nicely, a bit more for him to grab onto since your wedding and he found himself flushing at how he could been fucking you like this and you be pregnant with his child.

He was convinced you were. Your boobs heaved above you, bigger than he’d ever seen them and he could’ve sworn you tummy was slightly more rounded than before. His gaze was getting lower, hands fighting with themselves where to go first and eyes trying to help him make the right decision.

As they dropped, he swallowed heavily. You had started to get hairy, a sign of laziness but also of being comfortable. He remembered so vividly the first time he’d taken you when you hadn’t shaved, and you weren’t as brazen to share it with him as you were now.

“Look at you shagging me,” he hoarsely caught your attention as your right hand moved from where it was pressed against his stomach and swiped up your own body to smoothly bring your hair around to your front. “Tits look incredible.”

His head dipped back as he saw your desperate expression as you brought your head up to sit your body up straight. Your adopted rhythm had been more of a rub and roll of your hips, rather than a drop and grind. It was almost as if the minute you had taken him inside, you didn’t want him to leave.

“‘M dying to play with ‘em,” he confessed, his hands coming up to your sides, before stroking back down. His hand cracked against your bum without warning, as you rocked forward with more fervour. “Fuck me, go on. Please keep fuckin’ me, don’t stop.”

His voice was choked and as you looked down at him, his lust filled hooded stare was waiting for your frowning expression, as your hands found his chest and softly slid up to his neck.

They rested there lightly, until you saw Harry raise his chin upwards to open the expanse of his neck and throat to you. He looked alluring like this, lying beneath you and exploring something you’d yet to discuss together.

You lightly stroked your thumb against the center of his throat, feeling the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed as he swallowed. The feel of it causing you to panic, your hand starting to retract. How did you even know this was what he wanted? Just cause he had shown your more of his neck, didn’t mean anything.

Before you could get too far away, you felt him gently take your hand and encourage you to keep exploring. His eyes were dark with arousal as he whimpered up at you. The stubble that lightly decorated the underside of his chin was more than taunting enough; never mind anything else.

“You want that?

“Want everything wi’you, do it properly,” he pressed heavily against your hand, jaw clenching before your eyes were greeted with his falling shut and his mouth hanging open. A wanton moan, fell off his lips. “Use me.”

Keeping your eyes on his face you saw the way it began to flush with colour as your took away his ease to breathe.

The stifled groan of approval that left his lips as you rolled your hips up and dropped back down onto him with a clap of your thighs meeting, caused the most shit-eating grin you’d ever seen him wear, to pull up onto his lips.

The leverage you had changed from digging your fingers into his throat. The position allowed you to press yourself hard down onto his cock, so much so that you could’ve sworn it was the deepest he had ever been.

You stayed that way for a while, the echo of your skin clapping together as your thighs began to burn. His hand smoothed over your skin and gripped at your hips to encourage you to not give in.

“My wife, pleasing me,” the roughness to his words, voice broken as you let his neck go but kept your hand there. “Doing as she’s told.”

You fell forward and brought your lips to his, his laugh at his previous statement mingling with yours. He knew he’d pissed you off saying that, a self confessed wind up merchant. He definitely didn’t wear the trousers here and he knew it.

“Remember where my hand is,” you faux-threatened, soft raise to your brows.

“Darling, you've had me by the balls since I first clapped eyes on you. Having me by the throat is nothing.”

Now it was your turn to be smug. To drop your hips down upon him again and hear him submit a groan confirming his willingness to please you just as much.

You felt yourself fluttering around him and it took everything within Harry not to hold you to him and just thrust upwards, giving you what you both wanted.

He liked that you had wanted to drag it out, to roll your hips over his this entire time and let your clit rub against his pelvic bone on every thrust. He wanted you to get it how you wanted, to hold out for you and have you draw his release out of him.

The whine that left your throat as you cupped around his neck and brought his face back to yours had him muttering words of approval that you couldn’t decipher. He knew you liked that, when you couldn’t quite figure out what filthy things he was saying to you to try and get you there.

A playful mystery which summed the two of you up perfectly.

“God, I love you,” you desperately gasped, face flushed and feeling clammy from your exertion.

“D’yer?” He roughly spoke. “You love fucking me, hm?”

“No, I love you,” you whimpered at him, breathing deeply and eyes wide. “Say you love me.”

He chuckled at your sense of needy showing itself, “‘course I love you.”

He softly smiled when he saw how blissful your face fell, his hand finding the back of your head and holding you to him. “Love having sex with you too, hm. Fuckin’ love it.”

You hips pressed down onto his as roughly as they could, a mixture of your arousal and his everywhere inside your thighs. Back and forth you moved in quick succession, panting matching how much you wanted it.

“Love it when you get like this, all messy and desperate for me. ‘S not like you, usually so put together and so good.”

“‘M so dirty for you-“

He groaned louder, feeling himself somehow press deeper in you. “Mhm,” he agreed against your jaw. “Yea, you are. Gonna come for me?”

“Dunno, ‘m thinking about it,” you smiled before fluttering around him and dropping your hips again. “Yes,” the motion of your hips started to get quicker once more.

“Don’t stop this time,” he quickly whispered, pushing his chin up and catching his lips with you. “Want you all over me.”

As your movements got more abrupt the sound of the mattress beneath you made itself known. The rustling sounds of sheets, a tangled mess against your merged together limbs, spurred you on.

He knew how much you loved the sound of the mattress like this, really showed how heavy you were going at it.

His awe for you was written all over his face as he looked at you. “Bit more baby,” he clenched his teeth, pushing up into you for the first time since you’d taken control. “Let me help you, hm?”

As he brought his hands down against your cheeks and hips, he pulled you down onto his strong thrust up causing you to reach for his face. “Come on, come on,” he whispered, sweat running down his temple and disappearing into his hairline.

The minute your mouth fell against his he knew he had you. Pliant as ever. You felt slack everywhere than around him. Tight and then gently fluttering teasingly around him.

And he knew was done for.

“Keep going, bit more,” he encouraged, just needing you to press down once more to meet him. When you obliged him, he spoke, “That’s my girl, yeah.”

Pulled down hard onto his pelvis, Harry vocalised how grateful he was. Pushing in further each time you squeezed and let him have it. So physically deep you don’t know where he ended and you began.

He loved how you fell against him, shaking arms wrapping around you and holding you gently to him; keeping your face tucked against his sweaty neck. The two of you shook against each other, allowing your unsteady breath to even itself out.

As you felt him begin to soften before your legs, you shifted your body slightly, Harry mewling at the loss of contact as he slipped out of you.

He nudged his nose into your hair, enjoying how the two of you were taking time to stay close.

“Come share a bath wi’me,” he mumbled against your cheek. Feeling you shake your head, no. “No?”

“I don’t want another go,” you mentioned

He chuckled, “I don’t wanna shag you, I wanna treat you to summat.”

“But I’m tired-“

“Yeah, ‘s hard putting all the work in, in’it.”

His statement caused you to bury your face into his neck even deeper. “Tell you what,” he hummed. “How ‘bout if I run the bath and you get to lie here while I do it? Sound better?”

“Yeah,” you childishly responded.

“‘Kay,” he hummed, amused, “Gotta let me out first.”

Not happy in the slightest at how you had to move, you gently rolled away from Harry and moved onto your stomach. Face pressed into his pillow, turned away from Harry he took his opportunity to run his eyes down your body.

The dip between your shoulder blades, how soft your skin looked to the naked eye, never mind felt to the touch. He couldn’t resist dropping forward, choosing to climb over your body rather than slip off the bed by his side and walk around.

“Think you should take that test,” he murmured, into your sweaty shoulder, as you lay sprawled out facing away from him.

“Why?” You asked, question weary and voice slightly wetter than usual. You already had taken it.

“Just think you should,” he happily hummed, nose running against the curve of your shoulder. “Call it a hunch, husband’s intuition.”

When he was met with silence, he decided to throw out a comment he knew would he incite a reaction from you. “Thinking of taking the bike out later.”

His motorcycle, which had definitely seen better days, was absolutely not something you wanted him going near. Regardless of how attractive he looked on the bloody thing.

“Are you trying to start an argument?” You mumbled your question, half of it lost against the pillow.

“Alright I’m going,” he replied, hanging half over your body. The way he chose to climb over you, caused you to press your face into your pillow to hide your smile.

“D’ya want bubbles or not?” He asked, standing in the doorway of your bathroom, and looking over his shoulder. You stared at him, feeling a sense of nervousness swallow you. “Baby-“

“Sorry,” you blinked softly. “Surprise me.”

He lingered, trying to see if you were okay, before he turned to enter your bathroom. Door kept open, you could see his bare arse as held any over the tub to push the plug in and turned to look at something to add to your bath.

The sound of bottle shuffling around filled you ears before he asked, “We’ve got the muscle relaxant one of you-“

He’d seen it. The way he’d stopped talking let you know.

The shuffle of his feet was heard before he appeared at the doorway again. “What’s this?”

“What’s it look like?” You nervously replied, not even letting your eyes move to the item in his fingers.

His softness of his face had you sinking into the bed, further than you thought possible. “Have a look, ‘s it say?” You asked him, watching his eyes blink before he turned to look at the item and read over what he had already seen once more to be completely sure.

Harry blew out this sigh. The kind that really caused his body to move down. “What do you want it to say?” He asked, voice deep.

You hated how his expression was so hard to read. Usually he was so expressive that he tended to give himself away, not this time.

You saw him flick off the light in your bathroom, feet carrying him to you and letting his knee dip into the bottom of the mattress. Eyes following his every move, you dropped them down to his hand and saw the way that you clenched the item in his grasp.

The longer he took to let you know what the outcome off your test, was the worst you began to feel. His eyes were shining when they met yours again, them taking in the worry etched upon your face.

“You’re making me nervous, stop it-“ you let your eyes flit between his as he silently crawled over you. “Harry, seriously-“

Dropping his nose to yours, he breathed out a happy laugh. This close lipped smile brushing its way into his lips as he let his lips hover over you.

“Let’s go take that bath together, Mommy.”

***

Excited to hear all your thoughts! Thank you for reading .x

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry smut #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry fluff #harry fanfiction #harry fanfic #harry one shot #my writing #quarantine harry

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dallonm-archive · 3 years

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[image description: a wideshot of the san francisco skyline, tinted orange by a sunset. Above the skyline, in a white serif font reads "REVELATIONS, REVELATIONS." in all caps. below, in lower caps reads "update #2" /end id]

Revelations, Revelations | Update #2

Hey besties! I've got a funky little RR update

I've had a little bit of a love hate relationship with this book in the last two months but I am loving it right now! I think my struggles came from how I didn't really accept that this book is Hard to write. like it's complicated! and it's set in another country in another era like idk what to tell you! And accepting that was such a weight off my shoulders because I'm not putting the blame on myself. I also was really stuck in part one's problems and I had to be like <3 bestie <3 abandon it til post draft editing. So right now it's like:

Part one: I see it as a little stray cat in an alleyway that I kneel down in front of like pspspsp :) and then it hisses and bites me because it is actually a feral raccoon. Definitely not where I want it to be but like I can fix him

Part two: super fun!! A lot of deeper (and messier) elements are introduced here and I feel like the story's ~vibes~ have clicked. It's a lot of fun and it's getting complex. Whilst there's conflict going on in part one there's definitely this false sense of stability and then part two hits all of them like a baseball bat

My drafting has been much more chill and non linear too, just writing the scenes I want to and then connecting them together. I've been focused less on rich prose/descriptions and more on prose that explores character and it's been very refreshing! I love my flowery prose but I think it's easy to get caught up in. I'm also no longer going to do chapter by chapter updates, both for plot privacy but also because this story is very delicate both in content and the drafting process and I don't just want to expose the bare bones of that, you know? So I'm just gonna do some sectioned rambles and talk about a couple chapters under the cut!

also no longer doing multiple taglists because i can't keep up so! general taglist, ask to be added or removed! ; @kowlazovdi @avi-burton-writing @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @ezrathings @aetherwrites @radiomacbeth @bijouxs @bookphobe @haldimilks @alicewestwater @bookpacking @shaelinwrites @onlyganymede @theelectricfactory @write-like-babs @oceancold @veiliza @sidhewrites @wolf-oak @oasis-of-you @coffeeandcalligraphy @cecilsstorycorner @howdywrites @keira-is-writing @flip-phones @svpphicwrites

Only major change to report is I switched to alternate POVs instead of multiple chapters at a time in one POV because I'm insane <3 I had a lot of fun braiding POVs in Life Cycle of Massive Stars and wanted to try it here and it works much better! Though at this point I am simply ignoring the existence of part 1 because it really was the guinea pig part LMAO i experimented so much with structure and form and now it's a mess but it's <3 a future problem <3 i'd rather have one messy part than a whole first draft that's behind on my growing ~vision~ of the story.

[image description: a slightly purple tinted photo of two arms extending from the top and bottom of the photo, cropped to only show their hands. Their index fingers touch. in the middle, in a white serif font reads "dorothy" /end id]

Not a chapter, I had a lot of trouble with Dorothy in part 1 but I still love her so instead y'all are getting a mini character ramble! I felt really bad about her for the longest time because I've only been writing her since last summer whereas I've known Felix since like 2018 so there's naturally an imbalance, but I Do Not like that!! And she's really taken her time revealing herself, but I am ~fascinated by her.

I feel she's best summarised by this disillusionment for her life but mostly herself, because she's framed her whole identity by illusory perceptions of other people: a mother she doesn't remember, a girlfriend she breaks up with every six months but still shares a bed with, a twin brother she hasn't seen in person for four years and still sees as a teenager drenched in religious manipulation. It's a lot! She assumes that she feels dissatisfied with her life because she's without her twin, but then Felix returns to her life and shockingly this does not fix all of her problems??? She also doesn't know how to be alone, which definitely will not get better after Felix returns oop

The day her brother decides to leave, Dorothy is home alone.

Her San Francisco apartment is hollow like a hungry stomach. Three days ago, she drove Jolie to the airport then came home to cover the bathroom mirror with towels. On the first day she took an extra shift at the book store, drove through Sea Cliff at sunset, bumped into Mona on the stairwell and joined her and Margot for wine and slipped out when they began arguing over rent and office interns, started then discarded a portrait of a fictional girl and slept from two to five in the morning. On the second day she worked and spent an extra hour designing a window display on science fiction that she put together on the third day. Cut and painted a rocket ship on cardboard that she’ll have to scold kids for tugging, then get scolded herself by their mothers.

The day I finalise a design for their apartment it's over but I call this trick Trying To Get Around The Fact I Made Characters In Their Earlier Twenties Live In San Francisco (cw: drowning)

The apartment is nicer than her, but it’s been home for three years and they get $100 off rent each month because Jolie tends the garden and looks just like the landlady's daughter that drowned in the Pacific.

I don't think I've talked about Jolie much here which is funny because she is probably the most well-received amongst my friends! They love her so much and it's because she's a hot but slightly toxic lesbian smh, I'm like no seriously she does some fucked up things and they're like you promise?? Some funky facts:

Her real name is Jolene and she hates it except when the Dolly Parton song came on, that gives her a god complex

We are going to ignore how I accidentally named two characters after words for beautiful and pretty in French we are going to pretend it was intentional because when this gets published a uni student could get some good analysis out of that in their Intro to Literature class

She joined the cult with her mother at 13 and left as soon as she turned 18 LMAO. She was Dorothy's only connection to the "outside world" and the only reason she was able to leave

Her dream job is gardener/florist! We get it I watched Bly Manor last November. She's also a bartender

would probably have this on her car /j

[image description: a close up of a car sticker of a frog above "MILF" in green caps. below "MILF" reads "Man I Love Frogs" /end id]

Dorothy and Jolie have always been on and off and building tension but Dorothy realises this can't keep going when Jolie gets into a barfight at work and Dorothy feels Insane because she's the only one concerned?? (cw: blood, mild violence)

“You’re lucky it’s not broken.” She angles Jolie’s face, hand under her chin. Even with red blotted around her nostrils and lips, mulberry lipstick smudged, she still smiles like her bruises are a trophy. It’s a surprise she doesn’t dwell on it: it’s just some blood, doll, nothing to worry about. She didn’t even strike that good. Her technique was all off. If she shows her face back here I’ll just teach her how to punch properly. The worst part is over and I’m a big girl. Do I look upset? Am I crying? When they drive home, she’ll ask to stop and see if she can get free cigarettes or beer by holding her nose and making herself cry. She’ll probably ask Dorothy to hit her so it starts bleeding again. But she’s quiet, leans against the basin and lets her dab damp towels on her face. It doesn’t take long to clean up. It was just some blood.

“Nursing,” Jolie says.

“What?” “You keep saying you want to go to school but don’t know what for – nursing. You’re too good at taking care of people.”

That ending is like Top Three dialogue lines that made me really Concerned for how this character arc is gonna go :) but don't worry about it y'all. I do think Jolie genuinely loves Dorothy but that does not mean! the relationship is healthy!

Basically I love her a lot now that I know her better and I am excited to see where she goes! I think the biggest part of her arc is motherhood/daughterhood and TBH as a recently realised trans dude it took me a Minute to feel entitled to write her story? But being a cis woman shaped my life for two decades and getting to navigate that and being a daughter from a perspective that's totally distanced from myself is very helpful. It's about the inherent admiration and pain that comes from being a mother's daughter! (cw: blood, diet culture/disordered eating)

She lies next to the table and presses her forehead to the glass corner and imagines what would shatter first: the glass or her skin. And she imagines being a girl again, with French braids and too much baby fat in her cheeks and being picked up by a mother before the blood stains her hands and then her dress. She’d tell the mother she just wanted to read her magazines, the dog-eared articles about divorce and top tips for menopause and the benefits of eating half a grapefruit before your calorie-counted meals. And the mother would just brush the bangs out her face, press a pack of thawed peas on the wound and let her choose between the band aid with hearts or the band aid with flowers. And maybe the mother would know she did it for attention because they both know a daughters cry slices oxygen like glass to skin, but she’d still detangle her curls in the evening and kiss her forehead goodnight and serve her breakfast in the morning with half a grapefruit – the other half on her own plate, untouched and left to rot.

[image description: an orange firework exploding against a black sky. across the photo, in a white serif font reads "the last 10 hours of 1986" /end id]

This is technically two chapters, one in each POV and they close part one! Title is v explanatory and they're meant to be framed like a countdown - my plan was for the scenes to get shorter as it gets closer to midnight and that didn't really work but? The twins def get messier as the countdown goes down and THAT is what we like to see. This is also the only end of a part where the twins are separated but don't worry about it hehe :)

Dorothy

This chapter is like the First Time Dorothy does something for herself and. Good for her!

She’ll publish poetry under a pen name and horror short stories under another. She’ll paint indigo mountains and magenta oceans and not care when the colours stain her clothes. She’ll teach Felix how to blend acrylics and he’ll teach her how to remember piano notes and they won’t argue about who abandoned who. When Mona and Margot break up, she’ll go down to comfort Mona or Margot and then kiss Margot or Mona. She’ll move out and tell neither of them. She’ll find a landlady with a dead daughter and get a discount on an ocean view apartment with wall-length windows. Isaias will move in next door and they’ll have weekly dinner parties with wine that costs more than $10. She’ll go vegan. She’ll be so in tune with herself she won’t need to read magazine horoscopes or pay $50 for a psychic reading that assumes she knows her grandparents. She’ll know when she’s happy sad angry and why. She’ll take portrait commissions so she can afford a therapist. She’ll love her life and ignore that there’s no space for Jolie because she wants there to be. She’ll need nobody except herself. She’ll try and make things with Jolie work. She’ll kiss a random girl at midnight to see if it’s any different. She’ll go home after the countdown.

I had the revelation (aha) of Isaias and Dorothy as besties and I am OBSESSED! I love Isaias but struggled with his role so I'm really happy about this. Like he practices calligraphy and writes poetry titled after his favourite plants is he not the ideal character!! Hoping this will make it easier to learn about him so we can get that fun content

Felix

Felix's is fun because he makes the best decision of his arc but also the stupidest fucking decision of his arc. He truly has the range NOBODY is doing it like him. Here's a part that mirrors the excerpt above because even when they're apart Felix and Dorothy are like hmm we Will Be Intrinsically Connected (cw: drug, vomit and sex mention sorry he's going through it!!)

Two hours before midnight and Felix is alone in the bathroom. The party he abandoned synths through the ceiling. He plays Love My Way on his Walkman. Highest volume. Eyes closed. Imagines 1987 and decides he’s going to be honest about everything and nothing. He’s going to tell strangers at bars that he studies Literature at Stanford. He’s going to date a girl and pretend he has parents to introduce her to, that he grew up on a farm in Ohio and was secretly raised atheist, lie about what lies his parents told him. He’s going to grow out his hair and and blend cyan on his eyelids and send polaroids to his father with no return address; burn his fingertips on a candle flame like Michael will burn the photos of his son. He’s going to adore himself. He’s going to quit smoking and start jogging. He’s going to fuck Pacific Heights husbands whilst their wives sleep in the master bedroom and maybe they’ll angrily call him when they’re served divorce papers and hang up when he laughs. He’s going to get promoted to Assistant Manager and not care that his job is dead-end. He’s not going to kiss anyone at midnight because he doesn’t want to. He’s going to flush the cocaine because he doesn’t want it. He’s going to stare at his reflection until it moves for him. He’s going to vomit in a minute. He’s going to pierce his right ear with a sewing needle.

Felix at the end of part one: I give no more fucks!!! I am going to do whatever I want!!! Life is too short!!!

Felix at the end of part two:

[image description: screenshot of a tweet by @/idksomedumbshit. the tweet reads, "i can't mansplain manipulate manwhore my way out of this one boys" /end id]

I do think it's iconic that this time last year Felix was a repressed Christian boy and now his dream is to be a homewrecker THAT is growth. I also got to write Felix and Jolie which was fun because they do Not like each other <3 but they respect each other <3 but only sometimes <3 They have their first little bonding moment where Jolie pierces his ear in their bathroom but then Felix says something to piss her off so Jolie is like hmm okay time to chose Violence. This dialogue is funny because Felix does not really hate himself at this stage Jolie just knows she's gonna fuck him up by saying that !! My life would be so much easier if these twins had a normal relationship with the concept of being a twin but also this story would be very boring

The needle pierces his skin and he doesn’t feel it. Only the tequila swirling behind his eyes. The sting of the light-bulb. Jolie speaks again, “but she looks just like you, doesn’t she? Not the same of course, but enough to see each other in each other. That’s the worst part, right? To see the person you hate on the face of someone you love?”

[image id: a photo of the ocean with cliffs in the background, tinted orange by sunset. in the middle, in a white serif font reads "1/10/1987" /end id]

This chapter is so CUTE and also my first successful attempt at a different form that I can consistently keep in the narrative <3 I really like the idea of a fluid novel form that's adaptive to how the character's perception of the world would change which? Idk how much I can maintain that but this definitely follows it. I need to fine tune the execution but the concept is shots and transcript from a camcorder recording and playing with what the camera sees/doesn't see. The title is what the tape would be labelled, and on 1/10/1987 (american dates throw me off omfg) Beau takes Felix to a seaside town for his birthday and yes it's gay <3 but it's also just a lot of stupid dialogue which was very refreshing because I overthink dialogue so much I always think it has to have deeper meaning when sometimes its like....characters can sometimes...have Fun together. They are simply displaying Relationship Dynamics!

BEAU: Okay, give me a second…(the camera zooms on Felix) There we go! Right, okay, so it’s Saturday, January 10th, 1987, what’re doing out here today?

FELIX: What is this, an interview or something? You sound like a TV host on those morning shows.

BEAU: Oh my God no they’re so annoying, don’t compare me to those.

FELIX: No but I can imagine it perfectly. You’d just be all (holding a pretend microphone) Gooood Morrrning from sunny San Francisco! My name is Beau Teixeira and—

Beau: (laughing) Shut the fuck up!

I love this chapter a lot because you can definitely tell that their dynamic has Shifted but also! They are still just friends being friends and I really want them to just kiss already but also I love the natural progression of friends to lovers....falling in love and not realising it and then suddenly it all makes sense...

BEAU: You wanna try filming? It’s easier if you hold it on your shoulder. Like this. Put your hands where mine are.

[How their fingers whisper against each other. How Beau’s cologne smells of lime and tangerine. ]

Beau steps back into view, runs a hand through his curls. Leather jacket flutters in salted wind. Behind him the sunset flickers over waves like a candle flame. He smiles at the camera.

BEAU: I think you’re a natural! You’re definitely gonna be first choice for cameraman on my shitty morning show.

[How Felix smiles at him.]

(cw: next paragraph talks about the AIDS crisis)

Whilst this is a Fun And Cute Chapter there is more depth to it since the last time we see Beau and Felix before it is the first time they open up about the AIDS Crisis and their fears surrounding it. I have a lot of complicated thoughts about writing this part of history that I could write about all day but it boils down to the fact that "so many queer stories are centred around queer trauma and tragedy and queer people deserve to read stories centred around love and happiness" and "with a queer novel set in 1980s SF it'd be just as bad to completely ignore what happened" are two things that can coexist. I definitely think stories centred around the crisis are necessary (recently read The Prettiest Star by Carter Sickels and highly recommend! Also has a similar camcorder function and an emphasis on preserving. Also made me cry) but shouldn't be the default, especially in a story that if published would have a queer readership, so whilst it's something I want to explore I want to do it in a way that ultimately celebrates queer happiness, love and life. Definitely way more that could be said about this and the function of queer trauma in queer narratives but! Both Beau and Felix feel a need to not only capture as much as possible, but to capture it specifically with the intent to look back in the future, as well as a general We Are Going To Try And Find Happiness Wherever We Can. Also feel like a lot of Beau's character clicked whilst writing it which was very fun!

[How Beau wouldn’t say where they were going but cracked before they left San Francisco because he had too many stories to tell: five year old burning his tongue on café tea, six year old falling into waves and being unbothered, seven year old plucking chrysanthemum petals from stranger’s gardens. How Beau has an orange car freshener and missing headrest on the passengers seat. How Beau drove a longer route because it was closer to the coastline. How Beau played Pet Shop Boys’ Please and knew the words to every song. How Felix realized that he did too.]

[image description: a man and a woman sit next to each other on a bench. the photo is taken from behind them. in the background, you can vaguely see water, hills and the golden gate bridge. across the image, in a white serif font reads "everything the same about dorothy and felix" /end id]

Little title explanation: part 1 has two chapters, "Everything Different about Felix" and "Everything Different about Dorothy" which introduce their relationship + impression of each other after not seeing each other in person for four years (and also how they have images of each other in their heads that are false but they're attached to and it's really not helping the whole complicated twin relationship thing but don't worry about it) and I'd like to expand on that in part two so! An attempt was made. This takes place the day after the above chapter on the twins' actual birthday, the first one they're celebrating together since they were 18 and the first one in the "outside world" so it's a moment!

I'm not happy with how this chapter came out but I think it's just because it's an important one to me! Partly because it helps cement the idea that in spite of their complex relationship, Felix and Dorothy never stop being twins and they never stop loving each other even on the days they dislike each other. But mainly because: these are two adults who lost their childhood to trauma and they finally have the freedom to live their life and! Sometimes that means living for the inner child that never got to be a child. As a certified Adult With Childhood Trauma having a chapter like this was v important because trauma never leaves you but that doesn't mean you can't be happy!! Also it's just. cute. They run around San Francisco, bake a really shitty birthday cake, talk about whether or not San Francisco is real, I want what they have. There is underlying conflict because hoo boy there is Shit simmering rn! But it was nice to have this and the previous chapter as just like. Two little golden moments you know. Calm before the storm if you will

Midnight. Dorothy lies on a mattress on the floor in an apartment in San Francisco. Her brother’s head in her lap. “You know what’s crazy to me? Nobody ever asked us what we wanted to be when we grew up. That just wasn’t something we were allowed to think about. I know it’s depressing, I just think about that a lot.”

Felix keeps his eyes on the ceiling. The clock ticks. “Well, what do you wanna be when you grow up?”

“Astronaut, of course.”

“I was gonna say astronaut.”

“You definitely weren't,” she says. “Besides, I already claimed it.”

He looks at her. “I was thinking it. Before you said it, I claimed it in my mind.”

“That’s not how it works. I can’t read your mind.”

Felix sits up. “Wait, you can’t? Gee Dotty, some twin you are.” He grins. So does she.

Usually I am like. I don't think they would care too much about the twin thing. But I also think they would definitely joke about it, like if someone asked a stupid question Felix would be like "well of course we can read each others minds, dont you know how twins work?? like right now my twin sister who is my twin is thinking about giving me, her twin brother, $200" But lets end this on an excerpt where Dorothy doesn't give him $200 but she does think Oh How Did I Spend Four Years Without My Brother

(cw: death mention + missing persons mention, plane crash + boating accident mention)

Dorothy is used to his presence, has been for a year: coffee stains on the table, cupboards left open in the kitchen, clustered ashtray in the living room, hair gel and Jazz aftershave behind the bathroom mirror, Queen or Bowie or Alphaville sifting from his room. His voice. How he always knocks on her door to say goodnight. How he weaved himself into the ecosystem like air but tonight she watches her brother do nothing but breathe and she remembers waking up every January 11th in 1983, 84, 85, 86, and chucking a towel over the bathroom mirror. How she told strangers at bars that she’s an only child; or that she had a younger brother, but he died in a plane crash or a boating accident or went on a hiking trip and never came back, was likely immortalised as a John Doe in Oregon or Nevada records. How she went four years without coffee stains and open cupboards and goodnight knocks and Queen or Bowie or Alphaville renditions when he forgets that she exists in this space too. How hollow those four years were.

And that's all I have to share! I'm not sure when the next update will be, but I much prefer this format of talking about the story! If you read this far I love u <3

#revelations revelations #atlastracking #writing update #i wrote most of this update at 5am so ignore any typos god bless

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softtransbf · 4 years

Text

Mister Nice Guy, part 1

Summary: You’re new to the BAU and get along well with everyone, almost. You can’t figure out why the infuriatingly handsome Dr. Spencer Reid seems to hate you so much.

Word Count: 2222

Reader: Trans man, he/him pronouns, no physical description.

Warnings: Alcohol, brief description of a case and therefore murder. Nothing graphic.

(Part two)

~~~~~~~~~~

It was your first day at the BAU, and you were so excited. It took all of your willpower not to skip from the elevator to your new boss' office. You definitely caught a sideways glance from an incredibly handsome man with very expressive eyebrows, but you didn't let it concern you; you'd worked too damn hard for too damn long to let anyone bring you down today. You got to the door and knocked sharply.

"Agent L/N, please, come in," came a voice from inside the room. You took a deep breath and walked through the door.

You'd heard stories about Aaron Hotchner and the BAU- everyone had. Most people only heard the good parts- the heroic tales, the happy endings. But you liked to be prepared, to know the truth of what you were going after, so you'd also paid attention to the quieter whispers. The imposing boss who never smiles, the weird and maybe-pseudo-sexual relationship between the exuberant tech analyst and one of the profilers, the betting pool on whether or not the two female profilers were secretly gay for each other, true crime writer extraordinaire and profiling legend David Rossi leaving retirement to mostly be snarky, and the young agent with multiple doctorates who is smarter than seems humanly possible. You would never admit it, but you were particularly eager to meet the genius. He guest lectured once in your friend's linguistics class your last semester before graduating, and xe wouldn't shut up about him for an entire week. When you told xem that your transfer was approved, xe begged for "a full rundown on what he's like up close and personal" after your first case. But first, you needed to meet with SSA Hotchner.

"Please, take a seat." He gestured to the chairs in front of his desk.

"Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." You thanked your lucky star that your voice didn't shake.

"It's a pleasure to have you. I heard nothing but the best about you from your previous supervisor. Officially, all the paperwork has gone through for your transfer, but I would like to ask a couple of questions before we get started."

"Of course, sir. What would you like to know?" One corner of his mouth ticked up slightly for a fraction of a second, and you counted that as a major victory.

"First and foremost, why are you interested in the BAU?" You relaxed slightly; you'd prepared for this question.

"Human behavior is nothing short of fascinating. Everyone is shaped by a unique set of experiences, but at the end of the day, we all behave in documented patterns. Everything matters, because it shapes who we are, but also nothing does, because we all end up in one of a finite number of 'shapes', so to speak. No one is the same, but we all exhibit set behavioral patterns. No matter what someone's gone through, at the end of the day, they are still understandable and predictable. I find that absolutely fascinating, and the work that the BAU does with that is incredible. I want to be a part of it, and I have the skill and drive to do so. After all, the BAU essentially wrote the handbook for Crisis Negotiation."

"That is a very interesting perspective, agent." His face was neutral, but you detected approval in his tone. "I only had one other matter to bring up- I see two different first names in your paperwork, and two of your references refer to you with different pronouns. Which name do you prefer, and what are your pronouns?"

You were floored; you'd never had a supervisor so casually look past paperwork outing you. "Y/N, sir, and he/him/his."

"Wonderful. Well, Y/N, welcome to the BAU. Let's go meet the team, shall we?" You nodded and followed him out his door into the meeting room, where the rest of the team was assembled.

"Everyone, this is Special Agent Y/N L/N. He has just transferred from Crisis Negotiation."

"Oh! New guy! Hi hi hi! I'm Penelope Garcia, just call me Penelope, and I do all the tech-y, research-y stuff." She made her way across the room to you as she spoke, talking with her hands.

"Pleasure to meet you, Penelope! I love the look you're rocking, by the way. Those shoes in particular are magnificent." You knew you were being the gay sterotype that you'd spent your career trying to avoid, but shoes that good could not go uncomplimented.

"Oh my goodness, thank you!" she said to you before stage-whispering to the rest of the team, "I like him! Let's keep him." The team laughed, and you blushed. It seemed that Hotchner had wordlessly passed on the duties of making the introductions to her, because she pointed to the agent closest to her, handsome-guy-with-the-eyebrows from earlier, and continued on.

"Okay, so, this is Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Jenifer Jareau, but we all call her JJ, David Rossi, and Dr Spencer Reid." They all nodded, smiled, and/or waved slightly when they were introduced, with the exception of Dr Reid, who looked almost like he was looking at a puzzle. You chalked the feeling in your gut it gave you to first-day nerves.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all, and I look forward to getting to know you all better as time goes on." You were addressing everyone, but something about the way Dr. Reid was staring at you made it difficult to look away from him for too long.

"Wonderful! Now, as much as I wish we could all chit-chat and get to know Y/N better, we do have a case. Last night, a body was found in San Francisco's Golden Gate Park."

The case was interesting, twin injustice collectors, one more mission oriented, the other interested almost entirely on experimenting with different forms of torture on the victims. The former, over the weeks between kills, had started dating one of the local detectives, neither of them knowing of the other's involvement in the case. You were there when that information came to light at the killer's arrest, and you were able to diffuse the situation, ensuring that no one was harmed.

On the flight back, Prentiss insisted on the whole team going out for drinks to welcome you to the team. Hotchner declined, because he needed to get back to Jack, and Rossi said he had "plans with Tony Bennett", but everyone else agreed, mostly enthusiastically. It took significant persuasion from JJ to get Reid to agree to go out with you all. For the whole case, he was abrupt and distant with you, despite your best efforts. You knew it was silly, but you really wanted your coworkers to like you, so you decided you were going to do your absolute best to get him to like you by the end of the night.

"Hey, doc, first round's on me. What'll it be?" You'd noticed during the case that he shrugged off all of your attempts to start a conversation, but you figured that even he wouldn't ignore you under these circumstances.

"Uh, white wine would be great, thanks."

"White wine? At a dive bar? Does this bar even have white wine?" You'd intended to be charming, but, seriously, white wine? Who was this guy?

He opened his mouth, clearly indignant, but he was interrupted by Morgan chuckling from behind you both.

"That's why we go to this dump, newbie. It's the only bar in the area that serves white wine, which is all Pretty Boy here drinks." He winked at you and playfully elbowed Reid in the ribs.

You threw your hands up in mock surrender and chuckled. "Okay, okay, white wine for the good doctor it is. What's your poison? I'm sure word's gotten around that the first round is on me."

"You know, I might have heard something about that, and I most definitely wouldn't say no to a dirty martini." He winked at you, and your chuckle turned into full-on laughter.

You got the bartender's attention and ordered their drinks and a Jack and Coke for yourself. "It's a damn shame you're straight, Derek. Truly a crime against queer men everywhere, although I'm not so proud I can't admit that I'm a bit glad you're not competition."

"Wait wait wait, how do you know I don't like a little meat on the side?"

"So, sidestepping the fact that not all men have penises and some women do, you are so hetero that it's almost painful. Look around; men of all shapes and sizes outnumber women 2 to 1 at least. But you've spent the whole night making eyes at those women over there." You pointed to a table on the other side of the room. "Plus, I may or may not have received a very detailed string of texts from Penelope that essentially amounted to a crash course on all of y'all. I get a feeling that she might like me a little bit."

"My bad on the meat comment- I'll definitely fix that. And speaking of Penelope being a font of information, she's been uncharacteristically tight-lipped about you. What's your big secret, new guy?"

You raised an eyebrow and sipped your drink. "All you need to know is that Hotch, who strikes me as even more protective of this team than he lets on, which is really saying something, knows, and he cares less than any brass I've ever met. And I know for a fact that if Penelope thought it was concerning, she'd have at least voiced some suspicions about me, if not told you outright. I'm not ashamed of it, it's just none of y'alls business. Anyway, the blonde from the table you were eyeing earlier is coming over to see if we've been flirting this whole time so she knows whether to flirt with you or gush about how she's always wanted a Gay Best Friend oh my god. If I'm still here, it'll be both, and I'm allergic to that particular brand of cishet nonsense. Have fun, good-lookin'." You chuckled and patted him on the shoulder as you left, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Reid roll his eyes, down his drink, and walk in the other direction. What is his deal? Whatever. I'm not about to let him wet blanket all over tonight. You took out your phone and sent out a couple of quick texts.

[To: Penelope]: Thank you for not outing me. It means the world to me. Let's get brunch sometime?

[To: Nerd <3]: you sure Reid seemed pleasant when he lectured? that has Not been my experience with him so far. you were right about him being Cute cute, though, damn. a Gay could get lost in those big brown eyes, and in different circumstances I'd climb him like a tree. shame he's Like That lmao

Looking up from your phone, you saw Emily and JJ nearby, so you went over to join them.

"Oh em gee Y/N you're gay? I had, like, no idea! We should, like, totally get brunch and then go shopping! This is gonna be so much fun; I've always wanted a gay best friend!" You rolled your eyes and laughed at Emily's terrible Valley Girl accent. "Unfortunately, I did not spend my time in the closet learning anything about clothes. I only dress halfway decently for work because my friend dragged me to the mall and updated my wardrobe when I applied for this position. It's all xir doing."

"Well, xe has excellent taste." You mentally filed away JJ's effortless use of neopronouns.

"I'll be sure to let xem know! I'm so down for brunch, though." You checked your phone. "Looks like Garcia is too!"

"Damn, you work fast. You'll fit right in here," Emily laughed.

"Honestly, I'm a little bit blown away by how awesome and welcoming you all are. Well, mostly. Is Spencer like this with every new person, or did I somehow do something to offend him?" Emily and JJ shared a look you couldn't quite read before JJ answered.

"Spencer…" she hesitated, "He's going through something right now. I'm sure he'll figure it out soon, and things will smooth out."

So you waited. Weeks passed, and you fit in well with the team. You ended up getting close to Derek and Penelope in particular, and you kept trying to make nice with Spencer. Weeks of cold shoulder and as few words as possible to you while being his normal, verbose self with everyone else. So, three weeks into your new job, on a night out with Derek and Penelope you made a decision.

"Look. It's been weeks, and the guy still won't say more than 5 words to me. I'm done trying to… I don't know what I was even trying to do," you slurred, you’d probably had one drink too many. "Make a friend, maybe? I don't even know. But I'm done. He wants to give taciturn bordering on rude? Then that's what he'll receive. Let's see how Pretty Boy likes a taste of his own medicine. No more Mister Nice Guy." You wouldn't remember the look they shared until much later.

And so, your silent war with Spencer truly began.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x male reader #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #otp: pretty boys

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kaiowut99 · 3 years

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Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters GX Episodes 65 and 66 Subbed (Finalized)

(Check out my Subbed!GX Stream Masterpost!)

Hell Kaiser Ryou! Chimeratech Overdragon

Since his defeat to Ed in the Pro Leagues, the life in Kaiser Ryou has faded. But at the invitation of a suspicious promoter, he participates in an underground duel--duels in which, crucially, one risks their life to treat their savage audience to a show. As Acidic Last Machine Virus causes his Machine-Types like Cyber Dragon to rust, the Kaiser is not only cut off from summoning any Monsters, but it causes him to take damage. With each drop in his LP, an electric current flows through his body, exciting the spectators...

Judai’s First Dream Duel!

Lost in the forest, Judai’s consciousness starts to fade from hunger, causing him to reminisce about his duels thus far--taking down Instructor Chronos’s Ancient Gear Golem with Flame Wingman during his Entrance Exam, battling the then-Blue elite Manjoume and his V-to-Z Dragon Catapult Cannon shortly after his enrollment, battling Misawa’s seventh deck with the right to represent the Academia on the line, and his first loss in the face of Kaiser Ryou’s Cyber End Dragon...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*crashes onto your TL months late with non-corporate coffee*

And these two are finally up and finalized! Sorry for the wait, if you were looking forward to ‘em--as I mentioned in my post on Sunday, they were pushed back a bit while I did one final lookover on 1-64′s scripts and hardsubs so I could actually call them “finalized.” I’d started to get them out of the way while waiting for some potential editing help, then just decided to finish it after scrapping the last little thing I hoped to work on (I planned to break briefly after 66 to do these re-finalizations anyway, but the timing happened to work out). More details there.

But leaving that aside, here we have a pretty popular episode in Hell Kaiser Ryou’s debut, as he’s pushed to the brink by Mad Dog Inukai after Monkey Monkey Mountain Saruyama invites him to his first underground duel. They do a really good job of portraying Ryou as having lost his mojo post-Ed, showing a realistic view of what the big leagues in sports are like when that happens to you and you lose out on sponsorships/etc, and so when he gets cornered and Saruyama drills into him how he never once thought of winning since that duel, wanting to just stick with his respectful dueling, a spark lights up in him and... well, RIP Mad Dog. (Also, s/o to Takeshi Maeda for really selling Ryou’s shift in mindset by the end, and to his dub VA for sounding similarly good, imo.)

66 is probably less popular in comparison, treating us to our first clipshow of the series, though 66 episodes in isn’t a bad time (could be worse, VRAINS jk). It’s endearing enough, though--kinda nice seeing SAL again; Judai’s hunger-induced visions give us Chronos, Misawa, and Manjoume making monkey noises; and the duels featured were important for Judai early on. I also like the bit of new animation as vision!Ryou follows up with Judai about respecting his opponents; goes with what I’d noticed before about Judai adding his Fusion Undone/De-Fusion strategy to his own dueling after losing to him. (also Judai making a signpost sweatdrop from his aloofness pls)

Part of the initial delay with these were the footage fixes I wanted to work on, as well as a couple visual translations here/there which were fun to work on. Really want to thank @paradoxi-kay for their great work as always in helping to translate the cover of the copy of Duel Magazine that Judai comes across early in 65, and starting the one on Shou’s copy that I finished up. List of everything worked on below the cut, as usual, if you’re curious.

Enjoy, folks! I’ve gotten some work started on 67 already, and my plan is to try and work on some double releases to make up a bit of time, lol. I’ll be posting these two on NAC in the next couple of days along with the re-finalized hardsubs and scripts/DVDRips; while I work on getting 67 and 68 done, I’ll also start some work on prepping softsub MKVs (also to go up on NAC) for everything I’ve fully finalized, since it’s been a while on that front.

Fixes/Edits! (65)

As Judai wanders in the forest early in the episode, he comes across a stack of old Duel Magazines; the front cover shows Ryou and is an issue from his winning streak days before his more recent loss to Ed. Thanks to @paradoxi-kay‘s great work in typesetting my translation onto the cover I blanked (which I detailed here), you’ll see it in English in the hardsub above. The translation was first applied to the close-up of the cover that comes after #2 below, and then I took the translated cover and made it its own image that I put into the earlier shot as Judai approaches it while they’re all still tied up (detailed here). The text reads, “Exclusive!! Kaiser Ryou Marufuji / Breaking down his Cyber Dragon deck!!! / In this issue: / -Duelists Du Jour / -Pro League Battle Data! / -Reader-Submitted Best Duels! / -Strategic Attack Decks by Type!” (Really appreciated Kay’s input on “Du Jour” because my original translation for that, “Duelists Who Are All the Rage,” wasn’t as catchy, lol.)

As Judai picks up one of the older Duel Magazines and flips it open, we see on the back cover an ad featuring the three Phantasms--it’s actually an in-show ad for Shadows of Infinity (since the episode aired around the time the pack came out in Japan); I detailed the process in blanking and translating it here (shared above). The ad reads, "The Three Phantasms Descend!" featuring Uria and Raviel’s names on their images.

As we go to the Red dorm as Shou narrates about the Kaiser’s slump, we see a magazine page describing what happened to him since his loss to Ed; I covered my blanking/translating this in the link shared in #2.

We then see that it’s Shou reading the page from his own copy of Duel Magazine, this one more recent than Judai’s featuring Ed on the cover, though it features the same SOI/Phantasms ad on its back cover (now showing Hamon and its name as well). Like with Judai’s issue, I used the Japanese cover and the dub’s edit as reference to just redraw Ed and Diamondguy enough to remove Ed’s name; Kay had started the translation placement and I finished it up. For the SOI ad, like with #2, I added in the dub’s edit in pieces, tweaking it to match the original image more (since they again oddly edited the text out or redrew Uria/et al weirdly to do so). We do now see more of the ad which shows that the trio’s names are on each of them, the English of which I added.

As Asuka snatches the magazine from Shou to work on cheering him up, to be consistent, I also worked in these cover translations to the magazine as she lifts then curls it up, using the dub’s blanked Phantasms edit as a base that I touched up a bit while adding back the Japanese cards. Detailed more in #2′s link. (We now also see that the ad reads on, “New! Shadow of Infinity - On Sale November 11th [2005]!”; the IRL booster pack came out in Japan on Nov. 17th, 2005, a few weeks before 65 aired.)

Asuka then lifts the curled-up magazine into view in a close-up, with the SOI/Phantasms ad visible which I also applied my translations above to as needed, using the dub’s blank edit as a base that I redrew parts of to touch up and match the Japanese image more. Detailed more in #2′s link.

As Ryou meets Monkey Saruyama, he introduces himself by handing out his business card reading, "Saruyama Promotion - Representative Monkey Saruyama;" as detailed in #2′s link, I cleaned it up using Photoshop’s Clone Tool, then slapped the translation on using Calibri as the font.

As Ryou contemplates attacking Acid Slime with his Cyber Dragon and Mad Dog Inukai taunts him, as Mad Dog then slides in on a split-screen to “clear his doubts,” there’s a quick frame as Inukai takes over the screen where there’s a gap between his pecs and the split-screen edge. I fixed it by just drawing in the rest of his chest in Photoshop to fill his side of the split-screen.

As Inukai starts his turn and activates his Contingency Fee Magic Card, there’s a frame where, as he’s sliding his hand with the card into the shot, the card itself slides ahead in his hand before his hand does; as a result, you can see a bit of the background just under the card before his hand catches up to the card in the next frame. I fixed this by just duplicating the first frame here over it in Vegas.

Two here--first, after Ryou has his Proto Cyber Dragon attack Clone Slime, as Inukai begins to explain its effect, there’s a quick frame before the shot goes from a close-up to a slow zoom as he moves where his neck vanishes (new meme format go); I fixed this by just duplicating the previous frame in Vegas, while also correcting one of his looping lip-flap frames so that the scar on his chin is above the shading under his lip. Then, as Inukai goes into Clone Slime’s effect and the shot slowly zooms out, we see Clone Slime on his Disk in Attack Mode when it’s in Defense Mode right now; fixed it by placing a proxy in Defense in AfterEffects for a frame, then re-keyframing that frame to the zoom-out in Vegas to put it in place.

After Acid Slime slips out of Inukai’s Cemetery as Clone Slime’s effect activates, Inukai moves to grab it before the two Slimes switch out, but Clone Slime’s still in Attack Mode on his Disk; fixed by placing the Defense-Mode proxy over it in AE, then moving it as he moves his Disk and applying a brief brightness increase as the light from Clone Slime being replaced with Acid Slime grazes it.

As Proto Cyber Dragon’s attack approaches Acid Slime in a quick shot, the card under it in Defense Mode is reversed (the name box should face to the left to match how it’s placed on his Disk); fixed by first applying the correctly-facing proxy in AfterEffects and moving it as the shot moves, then masking Acid Slime back in over it, along with the light coming from the attack as it starts to shine over its card.

As Ryou explains Overload Fusion’s effect, just before it starts to zoom out as he then chooses the six Monsters he’ll fuse, there are a few frames I noticed where Ryou’s whooshing hair throughout this shot suddenly stops whooshing; I fixed it by just masking in his whooshing hair from the previous frames for a few.

As Ryou taunts Inukai about how his Acidic Last Machine Virus will bother him no more, Inukai starts to slide in on a split-screen, but until his split-screen has fully slid in, there’s no border on its edge; I fixed it in Vegas by first masking out the border once it’s fully slid in, then moving it in another video layer with his split-screen for those nine frames.

As Ryou explains Chimeratech Overdragon’s multiple attacks, we see it reversed on his Disk; fixed by slapping on the correctly-facing proxy in AfterEffects, then re-keyframing it to the slow zoom in Vegas for the 94 frames it zooms out in (phew).

One error that I hoped to fix but scrapped happens as Chimeratech Overdragon’s first attack closes in on Inukai’s Multiple Slime, where we see a Defense-Mode card under it despite it being in Attack Mode the way Inukai summoned it (and since he then takes damage from the attack); couldn’t quite figure out how to light up the floor I’d redrawn under it with the ensuing explosion, and had sought a bit of help to get it right but ultimately that fell through. (Incidentally, not only did the dub not catch this as they dubified its card, but they reversed the card, at that, lol.)

Fixes/Edits! (66)

(Note: These are all flashback-related, and I detailed most of them [including a few new ones] in my post from Sunday that I linked just under the summaries; I went on to apply the fixes I’d applied in 66 to the respective episodes, so I’ll be brief here. Reinserted fixes from a while back are in italics.)

(Episode 1 Flashback) I reinserted the fix I did to replace the blank Normal Monster on Judai’s Disk in Flame Wingman’s spot with its card as Antique Gear Golem crashes onto Chronos. [Ep. 1 Flashback End]

(Episode 22 Flashback) As Misawa attacks with Litmus Death Swordsman to start his flashback, I reinserted the fix I did to detail the blank cards on his Disk with Diamond Dragon and Litmus Death.

As Misawa finishes explaining Wingbeat of Giant Dragon’s effect and it zooms out to Litmus Death, I reinserted my fix to his reversed card on Misawa’s Disk to flip it right-side-up.

Reinserted my fix to the repeat of #3 as Skyscraper fades.

Reinserted my fix to another repeat as Misawa explains Spirit Barrier’s effect.

R-R-Reinserted my fix to the r-r-repeat again as we see Misawa’s Disk while Judai explains Cyclone Boomerang’s effect (gotta love reused animation!) [Ep. 22 Flashback End]

(Episode 4 Flashback) As Judai prods Manjoume into choosing a card from his hand for A Hero Appears’s effect, I fixed Manjoume’s blazer looking semi-faded for a frame on his split-screen.

As Judai’s LP take a hit from V-to-Z destroying Burstlady, I fixed the four frames where the upper part of his Disk is missing the little bottom part that extends out a bit and Judai’s vanishing Disk wrist grip.

A bit complex, but I fixed Judai’s briefly-still-missing-then-vanishing-again wrist grip, the shading near his Cemetery slot, Judai’s arm becoming part of his Disk, and his wrist grip suddenly consuming his whole wrist. (Detailed in that Sunday post)

Reinserted my fix to the Attack-Mode Winged Kuriboh on Judai’s Disk to put it in Defense Mode as he discards two to activate Evolutionary/Transcendent Wings.

As Judai swings his arm around telling Winged Kuriboh LV10 to “send [V-to-Z’s] energy right back” at Manjoume, I reinserted my fix to put its Defense-Mode card in the spot on his Disk colored like the Monster Zone it’s on for a few frames.

A bit complex again recycling the Judai shot in #9, but I fixed his again-vanishing Disk wrist grip and half-Disk arm, his wrist grip suddenly consuming his whole wrist again, and his yet-again-vanished wrist grip, miscolored undershirt, and his half-Disk elbow while restoring some previous detail to his Disk. (Detailed in that Sunday post)

As Judai summons Featherman–to Shou and Chronos’s surprise–and has him lunge at Manjoume for the finisher, I reinserted my fix to keep the black faraway box that is Featherman on his Disk both as those two slide in on split-screens and as they slide back out. [Ep. 4 Flashback End]

(Episode 8 Flashback) I reinserted my fix to remove Featherman from Judai’s Disk as his LP drop from Cyber Dragon destroying it.

Reinserted my fix to a repeat of #14 as Judai’s excited about Ryou’s Time Capsule.

As Judai draws for his turn, I added a Fusion card over the dark-orange rectangle briefly in his hand as he draws it.

After Judai’s first hit on him, I fixed the error as Ryou Special-Summons another Cyber Dragon as a Monster in face-down Defense Mode on his second Monster Zone (detailed in that Sunday post).

Reinserted my fix adding Cyber Twin Dragon to Ryou’s Disk over a yellow rectangle.

As the screen zooms in on Judai after Ryou declares Cyber Twin’s attack, I added Thunder Giant to Judai’s third Monster Zone, then reinserted my previous fix adding it as it zooms back out while Judai uses A Hero Appears.

Reinserted my fix adding a few quick lip flaps to Judai as he says, “Partner,” out loud.

As Judai thinks about how Evolutionary Wings would evolve his Winged Kuriboh and we then see Bubbleman on his field, I added a missing Bubbleman card to his Disk.

Right after #21, I revised my previous fix to replace the Defense-Mode Mudballman on his Disk with an Attack-Mode Bubbleman, after I accidentally put it in Defense Mode before.

As Ryou grabs Power Bond from his hand before activating it, I reinserted my fix adding Ryou’s two missing Cyber Dragons to his Disk and then one over the blank Normal Monster card in his left hand.

As Ryou slips Power Bond into his Disk, I reinserted my fix adding those two missing Cyber Dragons onto his Disk. [Ep. 8 Flashback End]

For the Ep. 67 preview, I added my translation of the notice left on the Red dorm by Napoleon which I’ll be using in the episode proper.

#GX #yugioh #yugioh gx #ygo #ygo gx #Judai Yuki #Ryou Marufuji #Chronos de Medici #Jun Manjoume #Daichi Misawa #my subs #i do have to wonder if the staff had a dartboard of ideas of who would spur the flashbacks in 66 #and they somehow landed on bringing back SAL for a bit lol #he's nice enough to snap Judai out of his hunger visions #also s/o to that one dub voice for... somehow surviving that dartboard decision

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moonlightsdream · 3 years

Text

#ShowYourProcess

From planning to posting, share your process for making creative content!

To continue supporting content makers, this tag game is meant to show the entire process of making creative content: this can be for any creation.

RULES: When your work is tagged, show the process of its creation from planning to posting, then tag 5 people with a specific link to one of their creative works you’d like to see the process of. Use the tag #showyourprocess so we can find yours!

@haeyeongs tagged me and choose this gifset of mine. Thank you so much!

I’m tagging:

@cuddlybitch with this set

@intostarlight with this set

@gominshi with this set

@mercurialhigh with this set

@therukurals with this set

My process is below the line!

PLANNING:

the idea of this sort of set was on my head for a long time, since they -fake- killed rona i wanted to make this sad/tragic feel sort of quoteset using the first two gifs in here a long with few other scenes -didn't make it in the final set- and then i went quote/lyrics hunting for that one quote that would fit the set i remember even asking sam @baijingting if she knows any good sad/tragic quotes to use, and i came across quite few ones i liked like but what happened then they revealed that rona was alive and i thought no more negative sad sets so i scrapped the whole idea of the set i even remember of the idea making one with in another life sort of set... but the thing is the whole idea were still stuck on my head for a very long time so i decided to work on it after staying in my head rent-free for couple of months but i decided to make it but less tragic... and those lyrics fit them so well, it's like seokhoon pov sort of set and breaking the lyrics into four/five gifs were easy... the first 2 scenes were already chosen a long time ago, the third one i thought of using this one scene first but changed at last moment since there would've been too much work with that one i barely mange to blend two gifs, and i just wanted to use the hug scene and i felt it fitted that part of the lyrics...

CREATING:

the blending: all the gifs and blending follow the same steps so so i’ll just explain the process for this one since it’s the one that had the most work, i followed the same steps for the other 3 gifs. I'm kinda messy when it comes to blending with lots of trials and errors before finally decide which to use . when i tend to blend gifs i usually visualize it as an icon first like in here 1, 2, 3 -usually these just in my head- so it'll be easier for me later with the positions of each gif, but icons are still where in gifs there’s movement so there’re more works on them. so after i import the caps -i'm still old giffing school- and turns them into gifs and sharpening them each alone i drag one over the other so now they're both in the same file.. seokhoon is the base so i left it alone w/o any touching.. i only played with rona's one so firstly cropped her gif in different sizes and tested each one of them and most of the time when i blend i set it to either lighten or screen first then i add a mask to the layer and erase the part i don't want then add a new layer underneath it and paint rona's placement in black, sometimes i even set this to overlay or softlight to darken that spot [layers box].. so i ended up with three versions for this one: 1, 2, 3. and the first one is the best one and went with it, i added my basic coloring: 2 curves layers + level + selective coloring -i barely lighten my gifs-. i still felt it was missing something so i added a layer at top, colored the sides with crimson color and set the layer to hard light and like this it's almost finished what's left is the typography.

the rest three gifs follow the same process with a few tweaks: [2nd - 3rd - 4th]

typography: i know for this type of set that i want to use two fonts style one fancy and the other basic all caps so i work on a new file with a white background because if ever to try to set this directly in that gif i easily get distracted with all the colors in the background i don't know why i'm like this.... so first i decided the words i want to be the highlight i tested a few fonts and decided on these: the big words setting: Gabelisa | regular | size: 72 pt | #b47119 the smaller one: arial rounded mt bold | regular | size: 14pt | #ffffff | all caps | the space between characters 300 so i liked the result so i just dragged it to the gif and put it under the crimson highlight layer! with one last step, i don't know how to even describe this one but it goes like this: i select bigger text layer and add a new layer underneath it then [edit>stroke: width 3, outside, with the crimson color] then i click on the switch free/wrap modes, squeeze it a little from every corner then i set the layer to exclusion and i'm done.

POSTING:

I usually draft the post first before posting it just to make sure that it works perfectly fine with no typo to fix, and see if it looks good all together as a set. and every time i click that post button i just have this fear that it wont show up in the dashboard but thankfully this one showed up from the first try! the funny thing is after a couple of days i was like if only made the arial text a bit smaller....

#showyourprocess #tagged #haeyeongs #gominshi #cuddlybitch #intostarlight #mercurialhigh #therukurals #i thought this would be longer #hopefully this's clear and there's no mistakes or typos #and this was fun!!#text post

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min-youngis · 4 years

Text

I'll Drive You

gif not mine (and i can't remember if i've used it before but it is very much past my bedtime and i am too tired to check)

~ Pairing : Min Yoongi x Reader

~ Genre : Fluff, Comfort, Humour

~ Rating : PG-13

~ Summary : The shaky beginning and abrupt end of an incredible, two week long system where Yoongi drives you to and from your residency at the hospital during his band break. Ft. one Min Holly.

Established Relationship.

~ Word Count : 4,270

~ Warnings : 1 (one) mention of alcohol, mentions of sex (i believe the word quickie is used somewhere in the middle), swearing

~ A/N : basically i got thirsty. shockingly, there is some discernible plot in this.

i'd love to hear feedback! spread the love!

masterlist in my description.

~~~

Your bag seems to weigh you down as you slowly climb out of the car, coat flapping against the sides of your thighs. With a huff, you transfer it to your left hand as you trudge up to the door, blindly reaching inside it for the house keys.

The foyer light is still on despite the fact that it’s nearing 10 PM, and as you unlace your shoes and place them on the rack, you can hear the faint noise of the television coming from the living room.

With a sigh, you make your way further into the house, gently massaging your temple in a vain effort to get rid of the headache that’s been mounting for the last couple of hours.

You’re too tired to admonish him for staying up and waiting for you to return from the hospital for the third time this week, but you feel like you should still say something. He’s supposed to be on holiday, for fuck’s sake. You wouldn’t dream of trying to get him to stop working hard during the day, knowing that it’s as natural as breathing when it comes to his production regardless of whether the company’s given the band a twenty day break or not, but the fact that he puts off sleep until you come back home simultaneously irks and flatters you, all in all making you feel like you just have one more thing to deal with at the end of every day.

You’re in for a surprise, though, as you enter the living room thinking all these hard thoughts only to see a gently snoring Yoongi asleep on the couch, spectacles precariously positioned on the bridge of his nose. Evidently fallen asleep in the middle of a show, he’s got his knees folded in, tucked tightly into his chest. One of his elbows is resting on the couch arm, hand propping up his tilted head, and the other is resting on Holly’s similarly asleep frame that’s pressed against his thigh.

Quiet as you can, you walk towards the table, picking up the remote to switch off the sitcom that’s playing in the background, and turn around to survey the scene in front of you. You see Holly twitch at the sound of your feet scuffing on the floor and before you can shush him, he’s awake, softly yelping and wriggling out from under Yoongi’s hand to jump down from the couch and excitedly bound to you.

Dropping your bag, you bend down to pick him up, nervously shooting a glance at the miraculously still asleep man in front of you. Pacifying Holly, you decide to try getting Yoongi to bed if he’s still dozing here when you get out of your shower.

As delicately as possible, you deposit the now-quiet dog back in his place on the couch, fondly watching as he wiggles under Yoongi's splayed out hand, and deftly take off the skewed glasses, folding and placing them on the centre table. He stirs slightly but doesn’t wake up.

The torrent of warm water hitting your sore muscles simultaneously freshens and further tires you, leaving you in a better mood but all the more eager to go to bed. Dressed in pyjamas, you step out of the bathroom, ready to get Yoongi and fall asleep, when you stop short as you see the man himself sat on the edge of the mattress, blanket wrapped around his shoulders, eyes threatening to shut but steady gaze trained on you.

“Welcome home,” he blearily says with a kind smile.

You walk towards him, halting once you reach the bed and standing in between his knees. He lets go of the blanket, opting to tug you closer by the waist and pressing his face to your abdomen, as you let yourself rest your arms on his shoulders, leaning your weight on his body.

“How was your day?” he asks, voice muffled by your t-shirt.

“Hmm, the usual. You?”

“Good, good. Dinner?” he asks, pulling away slightly, probably realising that if you both don’t get to bed soon, you’ll end up falling asleep while standing.

“I ate at the hospital cafeteria.”

“Food still shit?”

“Still shit,” you confirm with a sluggish nod.

He sighs a bit, standing up without releasing his hold on you, pulling your head into his chest. You deeply inhale, feeling calmer with every passing second, snuggling into his warmth.

You haven’t had a chance to enjoy more than a couple of minutes with him at a time, the last few days having been extremely busy at the hospital. When your professor had told you that a residency would be hectic, you didn’t know that that was code for really fucking exhausting. Every morning, you’ve been leaving before Yoongi wakes up fully, with only a fleeting goodbye kiss to sustain you the entire day, and whenever you return, he’s either too busy composing or he’s fallen asleep. The few days he actually is awake and waiting for you, you’re both too tired to spend anytime together and end up going straight to bed.

“I miss you,” you mutter, weight of the past week crashing into you as your shoulders slump even more in his embrace.

You feel his arms tightening around your waist and a brush of lips on the top of your head.

“I’m right here,” he gently teases, making you let out a huff.

You can tell that he’s trying to be optimistic, to keep you afloat, but he isn’t quite able to hide the downward inflection of his voice, betraying his own frustration with the situation.

“You know what I mean,” you whine.

He doesn’t reply, probably realising that there’s really nothing he can say that’ll make this state of affairs suck less.

You let out a loud yawn, jaw clicking, and he pulls away with a chuckle. “C'mon, miss doctor. Sleep time,” he briskly ushers, or as briskly as he can when he’s fighting a yawn himself.

“Not a doctor yet,” you mumble sleepily as you let him tuck you in, curling in on your side and sighing in contentment as you feel him climb under the covers behind you, moulding his frame to yours, legs tangled and arm thrown across your waist.

You’ve almost fallen asleep, comfortable in the warmth he provides and his slow, steady breath hitting the back of your neck, when you feel rather than hear him say, “I could drop you tomorrow, if you’d like.”

Not registering his words at first, you simply hum in acknowledgement that he said anything at all. Encouraged, he continues. “I’m at home anyway, and it’s not like I have a schedule.”

You feel his deep voice, throat scratchy with tiredness. In the middle of your haze, you confusedly ask, “How will I get back, then?”

“I’ll come pick you up,” the simple reply promptly comes. You let out a little, amused huff, which is the closest you can manage to a snort in your current state.

“No, I’m serious. I can be your chauffeur for the next two weeks, we’ll have car dates.”

This time, you really do snort. “Romantic,” you dryly utter, knowing very well that when 7 AM comes around, Yoongi will be out like a light, just like he is every morning.

You feel a gentle, half-hearted pinch on your waist as he says, “Just think about it. No driving to and from the hospital. Maybe you can eat something more than an apple for breakfast in the car. And all your colleagues can get jealous watching me wait for you outside at the end of the day.”

“Are you sure you aren’t just doing this to boost your own ego?” you sleepily giggle.

“It's a win-win scenario. You get a driver, I get my superiority complex fix.”

Sluggishly turning around in his arms, you stick your head into the crook between his neck and shoulder, not at all taking this conversation seriously. “At least you’re self aware,” you pointedly say.

Feeling his breath fanning over your head, you hear him implore, “C'mon, just let me drive you.”

Nuzzling further into his warmth, seconds away from slipping into blissful oblivion and knowing fully well that nothing concrete is going to come from this conversation, you reply obligingly, “Okay, Yoongi.”

____________________

The 6:30 AM alarm rouses you from the depths of sleep and the first thing you register is the lack of warmth next to you. Drowsily muting the decidedly inglorious sound of Morning Glory from your phone, you reach out a blind, searching arm, only to come up empty handed.

Smelling caffeine through the open door, you stop your pursuit and sit up, suddenly remembering the previous nights', mostly one sided, conversation.

He can’t be serious.

Carefully stepping around Holly, who’s sleeping on the dog bed, you trudge to the kitchen to see Yoongi leaning against the counter, pouring hot coffee from the pot into a large thermos. He looks only slightly more awake than you, despite having been out of bed for a longer time if the lukewarmth of the sheets is anything to go by.

Feeling partly surprised, partly exasperated and completely enamoured by the lengths to which this man in front of you is going to, still slightly hazy with sleep, your mouth morphs from an O to a dopey smile, moving closer to him and making to accept the thermos once it’s been filled.

Like he’s just realised you’re there, his eyes refocus, looking at your hand confusedly before his eyebrows straighten out in realisation.

Voice hoarse but deadpan, he says, “Oh, this one’s for me. Yours is there.”

Quizzically, you look in the direction he’s indicated with a tilt of his head, anticipating another thermos like the one he’s just finished filling, only to find a white mug with ‘You’ve Made A VAS DEFERENS In My Life!’ printed in shocking red, disastrous Comic Sans font. You hadn’t expected to see the gag cup you had bought him for your one year anniversary staring back at you this morning, but here you are.

Gaping in simultaneous amusement and indignation, you turn towards him. Yoongi has a deeply content expression as he keeps his eyes closed, sipping from the flask in his hand, looking for all he’s worth like a patient in pain who’s just been administered morphine. Before you can say anything, he opens his eyes, looking slightly more awake.

“Don't you need to get changed and packed?” he asks. “We have to leave in twenty minutes.”

Then he promptly ruins the effect by letting out a yawn, sound amplified by the bottle that he had just stuck his face into for another sip.

Squinting and taking a sip of caffeine from your delightfully disgusting mug, you enquire, “Are you sure you want to do this? I can just drive myself, it isn’t a big deal.”

With a shrug, he replies after swallowing what looks like an unhealthy amount of coffee, “I’m awake, amn’t I?”

“Yes, but for how long?”

With speed and agility that surprises you, he sets his thermos down before turning you around towards the door of the kitchen, palms on your shoulders. Giving you a tiny pinch on your hip and marching you to the door, he says in a faux-annoyed voice, “You can be a smart ass in the car, now scram.”

Bemused, you change and emerge from the room with your bag, coat in hand. Re-entering the kitchen, you see Yoongi putting the lid onto a Tupperware.

“This is a complementary service, then?” you ask, thoroughly engaged by how seriously he’s taking this.

Shaking his head, he gestures you closer and drops the box into your bag, saying, “Oh, no. You’ll be paying.”

You accept the wax paper wrapped sandwich that he hands you with a grateful smile as you tease, “You can’t possibly want more money. If you’re going bankrupt, I’m breaking up with you.”

Disregarding your empty proclamation, he drops his empty thermos in the sink before checking that Holly’s food and water bowls are filled and ushering you towards the front door, ensuring that you’ve got your bag in one hand, breakfast in the other and coat slung over the crook of your elbow. “Whoever said anything about money?” he asks with a wink, sliding his feet into his old-man sandals and taking the car keys from the bowl atop the shoe stand.

You cast an appraising look at his plain black t-shirt and flannel pyjamas, looking at him pointedly. Rolling his eyes, he grabs your hand that’s holding the sandwich and marches the both of you out while saying, “That coffee can only sustain me for so long. Once I’m back, I’m going straight to bed.”

“You literally drank a whole litre just now, I don’t see how you’re going to manage that,” you sceptically state, climbing into the passenger seat, only for Yoongi to shush you as he sticks the keys into the ignition and encourages, “Eat up now, before it gets cold.”

Snorting, you tune the radio to the station you prefer every morning and take a bite of the sandwich, immediately realising how much better it is than the apple that you usually eat while driving. He catches your pleased smile, flashing you a soft grin before he focuses on the road again.

“Good?” he asks, changing gears.

“So good. I’ll drop you a five star rating.”

“That’s all I ever wanted.”

You have what may just be the best morning drive to work you’ve ever experienced, even the too loud and too cheery voice of the RJ seeming bearable when Yoongi’s in the car next to you. Of course, it’s an added bonus that you get to ogle his hands on the steering wheel, a fact that isn’t lost on him as he teases you for it when he finally pulls up outside the hospital, saying, “Would you like a picture? A simple Google search should throw up what you’re looking for.”

Staunchly, a little disappointed that the ride hadn’t lasted a little longer, you reply with a sniff, “And what is it that you think I am looking for?”

Leaning over the centre console, intentions perfectly clear, he smirks and airily says, “Oh, you know, a little bit of this, a little bit of that.”

Chortling, you move towards him as well, and with a quick kiss and a deeply grateful ‘Thank you!’ muttered against his lips, you skip out of the car, feeling more uplifted and calm than the last four days combined.

I could get used to this, you think, punching in and entering the building.

____________________

You could drop to the floor instantly as you walk into the room where all the residents keep their bags during the day. Final rounds are always the most exhausting and you’re more than ready to go home, feeling tired but satisfied. You’re still thinking about the last patient whose chart you had signed over to the night shift, the other residents around you similarly silent as they go about leaving, when your phone begins to vibrate in your coat pocket.

Min Yoongi, the caller ID reads.

With a jolt, you feel a little better at remembering the prospect of not having to drive back home, and accept the call, tucking your phone between your ear and shoulder as you drop your scrubs in the basket.

“Hey, I’m done. I’ll be out in five minutes.”

“I have food with me.”

“Three minutes,” you amend with a jaded grin he can’t see but is surely aware of, going by the deep chuckle you hear.

Hanging up, you hasten your checking out process, leaving the room with a ‘Night!’ that begets you a couple of tired grunts in response from the people still left inside.

You shuffle out of the building and immediately spot the sleek black sedan parked on the opposite side of the road. Through the tinted windows, under the streetlight right above the car, you can just about make out a stooped silhouette.

In moments, you’re sat in the passenger seat, bag in the back, head resting on the cool leather and eyes slipping shut as your body sinks with exhaustion and you let out a soft sigh in simultaneous comfort and tiredness. You feel a heavy paper bag being gently set on your lap and very nearly moan out loud as long, dexterous fingers come up to soothingly massage the side of your neck. Opening your eyes, you see Yoongi with a kind but worried smile on his face.

“You good?” he asks, palm now resting, solid and comforting on your shoulder.

“Better now,” you reply with a grateful smile, taking a moment to deeply inhale the delicious smell that’s coming from the cover on your lap, suddenly realising how hungry you are.

“Let’s get you home,” he says, dropping his hand down to the gear stick. You turn up the radio a bit so the lo-fi beats get a little louder, settling you, and eagerly take out the box and spoon from the bag.

“How was lunch?” Yoongi softly asks, breaking the silence in the car that’s only punctuated by your chewing.

“So good. Hyejin wanted to know how I made it,” you say along with a thumbs up, swallowing a large mouthful.

Grinning, Yoongi asks, “What did you tell her?”

“I told her I’d send the recipe. So that means you should probably send me the recipe.”

“I’ll do that,” he chuckles, pulling into the driveway as you close the empty box, feeling drowsy now that you have some food in your system.

Thirty minutes later see you in bed, freshly showered, head cushioned by Yoongi’s thigh as he’s sat up against the headboard using his phone, Holly curled next to you with his fur slightly tickling your nose. You’re stuck in the limbo between sleep and wakefulness, just floating along, not particularly registering anything, and you sleepily mumble into Holly's dog-shampoo smelling head, “This was a good idea.”

Yoongi doesn’t stop his mindless stroking of your hair and just replies with a deep, satisfied hum and a smug ‘Told you so.’

You fall asleep that night almost peacefully, a single car ride with Yoongi and a good meal having managed to wind you down more than has been possible in a long time as you easily allow yourself to slip in his reassuring embrace.

____________________

The next few days are absolute bliss, at least in comparison to the months of residency you’ve already had, and you hardly realise two weeks are over, only remembering when Yoongi hands you your customary Vas Deferens coffee cup one morning with a grin and a ‘One last time.’

“One last what?” you ask, still sluggish. Yoongi’s become great at this whole waking up early thing, nowadays needing only three-fourth of a thermos full of caffeine to start feeling truly awake, but you still struggle with it on occasion, particularly after comparatively later nights.

“Break's over today,” he says, turning towards the stove to fire it up, pan in hand ready to be heated.

Checking the date on your phone, you see that your blissful period in heaven is, in fact, over. You have to resist the urge to whine in disappointment, but your heavy silence seems to be answer enough as he turns around and fondly, tenderly smiles at your thinly veiled pout.

Making sure the stove isn’t on high, he gives the pancake mix one last whisk before wiping his hands on a towel and making his way towards your frame that’s sat cross legged atop the granite counter.

You’re drinking the final dregs that you can extract from your cup, the taste of sugar and coffee strong on your lips and tongue, when Yoongi stops right in front of you, gently taking the cup from your grip and winding your fingers in his instead.

“I could always ask the company for a driver for you, if you want?”

Leaning forward, you stick your face into the crook of his neck and shake your head in response.

“Not the same,” you mumble. You’ve always been a little loose-lipped and clingy in the mornings. Regular Y/N would rush to explain that they’ll get over it, that it isn’t a big deal, that Yoongi being back in studio is exciting and they want nothing more than for him to go back to properly doing the job he loves so much. But sleepy Y/N has no qualms about being vulnerable. Either way, you know that Yoongi’s perfectly aware of everything that you haven’t verbalised.

Not letting you stay in your hiding nook in peace, he annoyingly bounces his shoulder up repeatedly, making you raise your head and catch his eye.

“Maybe I should get BigHit to deliver lunch to you at the hospital everyday.”

Snorting, you reply, “Yeah, everybody'll love that. No, now that I’ve seen how great the alternative to cafeteria food is, I think I’ll try out some of your recipes whenever I can.”

He looks pleased at that, obviously not having anticipated this outcome. You’ve always been big on the concept of self-care, but not particularly good at the execution.

These are a couple of things you’ve realised and learnt over the past two weeks.

Number 1 : Hospital food is shittier than you had thought it was, now that you’ve got a taste of somebody cooking fresh meals on the daily for you.

Number 2 : Min Yoongi sometimes puts sticky notes in your lunch that have profound things written on them like ‘Don’t cut up somebody if you can help it!’ and ‘XOXO - Genius Min Suga', and on one memorable occasion that had you snorting in the canteen, ‘Went to the optician the other day and bumped into...everybody’. When you had asked him why he didn't do it everyday, he had answered that he didn’t want to become predictable.

Number 3 : You absolutely adore being pampered and eagerly look forward to the end of your workday just so you can receive that kind, I'm about to shower you with so much love and comfort look when you enter the car along with your dinner care package that sometimes contains a tiny flask of whisky, just as a little treat, when you’ve had a particularly rough day. You’re also a fan of the quick, thirty second, single handed neck massage you get as soon as you clamber into the passenger seat, and if you strategically place some sexy moans in the middle, you manage to up it to a minute. He had caught onto what you were doing towards the end of the first week and had snorted, merely giving you a faux admonishing pinch before granting you a full two minutes while saying through his chuckles, “You could’ve just asked.”

Number 4 : Yoongi looks really fucking attractive when he’s driving. You’re particularly biased towards seeing him at the wheel with a watch on, but you’ll settle just fine for just bracelets. He had realised this as well, and made it a point to wear his more expensive pieces, all while playfully muttering, “I knew you were with me just for my money,”, words a direct contrast to the half-amused half-bashful smile on his face whenever he caught sight of your unabashed staring, all your shame thrown out the window.

All in all, you can heartily confirm that it’s been one of his better ideas, maybe even the best one, but you wouldn’t admit it to him. Not when you’re awake at least.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” you say, coffee kicking into your system. “We still live in the same house, we'll just have to go back to our old system when both of us were working.”

The old system being video calls when he has to spend too long in studio or you have an extended day, and quickies in the shower when you actually, miraculously, manage to both be at home at the same time.

You know he misses working at the company. The set up he has at the home studio is rudimentary and even though he ends up giving the receptionist the slip and spending half of everyday in the Genius Lab, he’s been getting restless, pining to see his ideas get translated into proper, ready-to-release tracks.

“Hmm,” he hums, knowing full well that you’re half trying to convince yourself.

You squeeze his hands in reassurance. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

Slightly assuaged that you aren’t still in your stressed-from-work headspace, he eases a little bit, squeezing back and leaning closer as he teasingly whispers, “Try not to miss me too much.”

“I think I’ll manage. Your music taste is kinda sad anyway,” you softly reply, covering his offended gasp as you kiss him, the tastes of strong coffee and minty toothpaste mingling.

Pulling away, you allow yourself to linger in his presence a little longer, knowing that these moments will soon become scarce and that the universe has been veritably spoiling you recently, and finally succeed in pushing him away and hopping off of the counter as you catch sight of the time. He sees it as well and rushes to get the pancakes done, shooing you out of the kitchen with an annoyed whine about you being a distraction.

Rolling your eyes, you obey, shouting behind your back, “Those better be the best damn pancakes I’ve ever eaten, Min Yoongi. Let’s end this shit with a bang.”

(You do end it with a bang. But not exactly in the biblical sense.)

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