#god answering that make me realise how little interest i've had for writing lately and this makes me so sad

[aobawilliams]

🤔 Are there any new characters you want to write about? (for some reason tumblr isnt registering me pressing enter so you will just get. a paragraph) 🌈 What research do you plan on doing for your writing? 🫘 Spill the beans. What's a new project you're doing this year? 💥Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're most excited to write? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

[Ask Game]

🤔 Are there any new characters you want to write about?

🌈 What research do you plan on doing for your writing?

Grouping these two together because,,, I honestly don't know. I can't really see myself writing for the Temeraire fandom, because it would involve a lot more research than I ever care for, but if I ever did it would probably involve either Fem Laurence or Trans Laurence and would involve sooooo much research (something about the idea of Trans Man Laurence, and how it can be seen as 'her' hiding 'she's' a 'woman' because obviously a woman cannot join the navy, but 'she' doesn't need to hide anymore since there are female captain in the corps! And how being a woman captain would be better perceive than being a transvestite, somehow, except that Laurence is more comfortable being a man than he's ever been as a woman.) Even beyond that my knowledge and interest in early 19th century england/the napoleonic wars is so low it's at the bottom of the sea.

🫘 Spill the beans. What's a new project you're doing this year?

The bar is low, but at this point I'm just hoping to get something written ✌️😔

I don't really have a specific project, yet, I think, though I did have a vague plotbunny for a one piece - temeraire fusion but it honestly hasn't gone anywhere yet. So less of a new project, but the plan is to at least finish some older stuff (the flowers have water I am looking at you), hopefully get out some one shot as well (Brook one shot i am glaring at you).

💥Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're most excited to write? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

I've got a few, mostly One Piece projects, that I really want to see out someday!!

This actually led me stumbling through my writing notebook, and I found again some stuff that got me really excited.

Behold very very rough first draft of a Sabo never lost his memories and this turn into Impel Down/Marineford angst WIP.

"This must be some new kind of hell," Ace thought as he stared into a familiar face, who did not even dare to look at him. After all, why else would he ever imagine his brother, the one who died too young, as a perfectly healthy young man wearing a marine uniform. Sabo would never, and so this Sabo couldn't be real. The laugh started slow, and then suddenly Ace couldn't stop, gasping for breath, laughing and laughing and laughing as suddenly that familiar face, those familiar eyes looked at him, stared at him as if he was the one who wasn't real, and his laugh only got louder at the thought (as the jeer from other prisoners got louder) as the mere idea that this Sabo-who-was-a-marine-and-alive couldn't believe he was real. By the time Ace was able to stop, whether he was real or not, Sabo was long gone.

[novamirmirsblog]

Steven's Mom

Genre: fluff/angst/smut +18

Pairing: Natasha x reader

Word count: 3874

Request: no

Warnings: poorly written smut, cheating

A/n: This literally took me a good month to write, so I think it's safe to say this may be a little bit shit. If the punctuation seems off, it's cause Grammarly keeps being weird and making suggestions -_- BUT ENJOY! Cause I'm not sure when the next fic will be finished XD Yes, smoking is bad but holy shit is it hot when the right people do it.

Masterlist Natasha Romanoff masterlist

Relationships.

That word has always scared you.

Your friends would talk about their recent boyfriends and how they were going on cute group dates and where was your boyfriend Y/n?

Your answer was always that there was no point in settling down with one person when you were yet to try them all. Especially seeing as you had only just reached your 23rd birthday.

Sure, some may have seen that as 'flighty behaviour' and yes, perhaps you should have gotten a therapist when you were a lot younger - but you were always told you were going to be a heartbreaker and the long trail of flings you left in your wake was testimony to this.

Perhaps heartbreaker was a strong word. You were sure that only going on a few dates with a guy hardly led to their hearts being broken but you were pretty and could accentuate your almost forgotten accent which made all the boys fall into a line.

You had moved to America with your family when you were 16 but due to your desire to fit in, you had worked extremely hard on switching your native accent for an American one. It felt as if you were betraying your family but it was too late to break that habit 7 years on.

Using people as a means to an end is never a good plan. Especially when that person was a friend but when Steven had asked you out, you couldn't help but see a goldmine of opportunities.

Steven was sweet. He was the kind of all-American guy that was shoved down the western media consumer's throats. He played baseball throughout his school career and taught the little leagues on weekends. He had the body of a god and the heart of a saint.

For all intended purposes, Steven was perfect.

Steven would be your salvation.

~~~~~

After 3 weeks of non-stop dating, your university friends wanted to see the boy who had managed to keep the notorious serial dater interested for more than one date. You decided to introduce them all, telling your university friends that Steven was a friend from high school.

Obviously they all swooned.

You truly were living the 'American dream'. However your American dream all came crashing down one Tuesday night.

It had been two months since the first date and Steven had invited you over to his house after seeing a movie. You took your shoes off and hung up your jackets before you both made your way to the kitchen. Steven backed you up to the kitchen counter, kissing along your neck using too much tongue. You were a strong believer that neck kisses should be mostly teeth. The tongue was reserved for other acts. The sound of heels filled you with relief. You liked Steven but he needed to work on his game. It seemed that Steven was too engrossed to realise his mother was standing in the doorway.

You locked eyes with her and let out a soft gasp. You thought you saw her left eyebrow twitch but you couldn't be sure because as she took a step towards you, the trance broke and you pushed Steven away.

"Babe?"

She cleared her throat and Steven spun on the spot, his jaw dropping in a comical way before closing again as his face went red. "I can explain..."

"No need to explain Stevie, just don't do it in my kitchen please."

"T-this is Y/n, Y/n, this is my mom."

"Natasha." She extended her hand for you to shake.

"It's nice to meet you Mrs Romanoff." You shook her hand.

"Please dear, I've been divorced for years. It's Ms now."

"Of course. Sorry." You apologised, the urge to wipe your boyfriend's saliva from your neck was growing the longer this conversation went on.

"No need to apologise lyubov."

"Well, we're just gonna go up to my room now..." Steven gave his mother a kiss on her cheek before leading you out of the kitchen.

~~~~~

You stayed the night with Steven but when you awoke, you were in an empty bed. To say you were disappointed would be a lie but you were a little offended that Steven had left you to wake up on your own. Just because you weren't utterly infatuated with him didn't mean he could leave you in his house without so much as a goodbye.

You debated whether or not you should wear the clothes you had from yesterday or steal one of Steven's many, many hoodies. You decided on the latter. One benefit Steven bought was the fact his hoodies absolutely engulfed you, the bottom of the jumper comfortably resting just above mid-thigh.

You crept out of the house, not realising a pair of eyes followed you the entire way down the drive, cigarette smoke obscuring her view.

~~~~~

You didn't see Steven till the following weekend. Personally, you felt it was too soon to be seeing him again, but you had put him off for longer than he would have liked, so you indulged him. The two of you decided to get milkshakes before going on a walk about the local park. It was a predictably mediocre date, and your mind drifted from Steven's blonde hair to a deep auburn. You weren't sure why you were thinking of red hair till you remembered that was the colour of Steven's mum's hair. You hadn't even realised Steven was talking to you till you saw him looking at you expectantly.

"Sorry babe, what was that?"

Steven laughed "Are you ever here Y/n? I was asking if you wanted to come back to my place?" He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in.

"Sure. I wanna drive though." You smirked at him, knowing there was no way he would let you behind the wheel of his precious baby.

"Ha ha." Steven mocked "Get your pretty ass in the car."

~~~~~

The first crack in your perfect American dream life happened when Steven left you alone.

Steven had forgotten he was supposed to be at baseball practice. You were flicking through Netflix, Amazon and Disney+, unable to choose anything, when you heard the front door open and close. You assumed it was Steven coming back, but the slender fingers that slid down your shoulders made you tense and turn around. You strained your neck, looking up at Natasha, her hands still resting on your shoulders.

"No Steven?" She asked, her eyebrow gently raised.

"He" You cleared your throat before continuing, hoping to focus on something other than her hands.

"He..." Natasha prompted you to continue, her thumbs gently creeping up to where your top exposed your neck.

"Had to do something with the little leagues." You rushed out, trying to stop the heat in your cheeks.

"And he left you all on your own, poor thing." Natasha said, drawing shapes along your shoulders as you tried to suppress a shiver.

You weren't sure who the 'poor thing' was. Whether it was you, or Steven.

"You know, I hide my accent too." Natasha said, her lips felt dangerously close to your ear as she let her Russian accent coat her words. "How about you let me hear your real accent too?"

You watched as she moved around the sofa, coming to stand in front of you.

"Um, I mean, I don't know what to say..." You said, your own voice sounding foreign to you as you spoke in your native accent for the first time in years. Not even Steven had heard your true accent.

Yet here you were, showing it to a woman you had met twice.

"krasivaya" Natasha reached under your chin, tilting your head up at her.

"W-what?"

"It means beautiful."

You swallowed, unable to move as she let her fingertips run down the front of your neck.

"Natasha..."

"Yes, sweets?" She responded, her eyes held a gleam that her words did not reflect.

"I don't think this is appropriate."

"What isn't appropriate?"

That made you pause. You weren't sure what made this interaction inappropriate, but you were certain it wasn't. The way your heart pounded in your chest in a way it never did with Steven confirmed that idea. Although your words said that this was wrong, your body didn't want this to stop. With every movement Natasha's nails made against your throat, more goosebumps erupted.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"...no"

"What was that?"

"No." You said with more confidence than before.

"That's what I thought." Natasha bought her fingers back up to your chin as she leaned in, closing the distance between the two of you till your lips crashed. She moved to sit on the sofa next to you, and you put your leg over hers, moving closer to her. You sat on her lap, fiddling with the top of her mom jeans as she ran her hands through your hair, getting lipstick all over your lips. You rested your arms around her neck as she ran her hands under your top, making you moan into her mouth. She shuffled under you, making your hips bump against each other. You bit her lower lip, and it was her turn to moan, the sound travelling down your throat. She pulled away after that, resting her forehead against yours, her eyes still closed as you opened yours.

You weren't sure how long you sat there with Natasha underneath you, but it was long enough for the sun to dip below the horizon. The two of you didn't say anything, but you didn't need to. It was a kind of peaceful silence you never had with Steven.

Your phone buzzed, breaking you out of your peaceful bubble.

It was your brother.

"Fuck. I've gotta go." You stood up, instantly noticing the lack of warmth you suddenly craved. You grabbed your coat and left the house, shouting a hurried goodbye to Natasha.

~~~~~

You received a text later that night from an unknown number. The only thing that gave the identity away was the sign-off, 'сладких снов'. You looked it up.

It was Russian.

Natasha had wished you sweet dreams.

~~~~~

There was something off with you, and Steven was beginning to notice. Steven usually hated his name; he was named after his mother's close friend. A close friend that had led to the breakdown of his parent's marriage. He hated it until he heard you say it. It sounded like peaceful autumn afternoons. In fact, you often reminded him of autumn. To begin with, it was your sweet laugh that reminded him of warm autumn colours, but as time went on, he realised while you were like autumn, he was summer. As often as he wished it wasn't true, Steven knew the thing he had with you could never last.

Steven knew something was wrong. He just couldn't quite put his finger on it.

~~~~~

Natasha came to your student accommodation on a chilly night in October. The two of you had been texting non-stop in a way you had never experienced with anyone else you had met. She was like an addiction you didn't want to quit.

The two of you wasted little time undressing, and you found yourself hitting the bed with the back of your legs as Natasha ran her hands through your hair, kissing you fervently. She placed her hands on your lower back, easing you onto the bed as she climbed on top of you, legs slotted between yours comfortably. Your neck burned as she kissed her way down it, letting her teeth graze against the soft skin.

"No marks." You panted out, pushing your chin to the ceiling so she could get better access to you.

Natasha made an almost growling sound, the frustration clear as she shoved two fingers into your wet core with little warning.

"Just wait till you're completely mine, printsessa. Everyone will know who gets to leave marks on you."

All you could do was moan, the sound brushing over Natasha's ear.

"Shhh, printsessa" She took the fingers that weren't currently pumping in and out of you to your lips, "we don't want your roommates hearing. They'll wonder why you're enjoying it so much." Natasha scoffs before adding, "There's no way you sound like this with Steven."

The sound of your boyfriend's name leaving her mouth felt wrong, but you didn't have time to feel guilty when you felt Natasha's tongue licking long stripes along your clit. You fell into bliss as you bit your lip hard to stop Natasha's name from escaping. The tinge of metal that spilled onto your tongue made you almost cum again. Natasha looked up at you, her hair beginning to stick to her forehead as she winked.

You panted as she kissed her way up your body.

"How about you make me feel good, darling."

It was your turn to slide down the length of her body till you got to her hot core. Your limbs were heavy, and while you wanted to lie peacefully, you wanted to make Natasha cum more. You had a feeling it wouldn't take long, judging from the way her hips bucked ever so slightly as your breath tickled over her. You grazed your teeth gently over her clit, making her moan before leaving a hickey on her inner thigh.

"Hey!" She let out breathlessly, digging her nails into your scalp and pulling you away by your hair. "What makes you think you can leave marks on me."

"But you look so pretty with them." You pouted for a beat, seeing her expression stay stoikly unimpressed, before adding "Mommy." Her pupils blew even more, and you could have sworn she let out a whimper. Her grip tightened momentarily at the title and you took it as a sign to continue.

You continued to lick and suck, putting two, then three fingers in. You watched as she arched her back and moaned out your name. When she was finished, You took your fingers out, licking them clean as the two of you refused to break eye contact.

You lay there in her arms as she drew patterns across your back and gently scratched your neck. "It's late."

Natasha hummed in agreement.

"You should probably stay the night, right?"

You craned your neck to try to see her expression. Natasha put a finger under your chin and leaned down. "That's probably a good idea." She said, her cocky grin stayed on her face till she gently captured your lips.

That night the two of you slept more peacefully than you had in years.

~~~~~

You lay stomach down on the bed, Steven's voice echoed through your room. He smiled through the screen.

"Baby, I'll pick you up tomorrow at 7:30 for dinner." he grinned. He knew something was off but wanted to hold on to the dream for a little longer.

"Yay! I can't wait!" You were lucky the American accent made just about anything sound enthusiastic

Natasha stirred, turning in her sleep, rustling the sheets gently as she re-adjusted.

"Who was that?" Your boyfriend asked.

"Oh, just one of my friends staying over." You rolled onto your back, accidentally giving Steven a glimpse of silky hair. The movement gently jostled her, disturbing her sleep, causing her nose to scrunch up as she began to wake.

"Okay baby, I've got to go now. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Love you, see you tomorrow." You hang up the FaceTime just as you felt a gaze burn into your skin.

"Morning." She grumbled out, sleep making her voice husky.

"Good Morning." You smiled at her as she rubbed her eyes, waking up fully. "We have to tell him."

"Hmm." She closed her eyes again, you were half convinced she had gone back to asleep.

"Not tomorrow though." Her plump lips seemed even fuller from both last night's activities and sleep. "Tomorrow, you have your date." Her mocking tone did not go over your head. She searched the nightstand for the pack of cigarettes she had left there. However, she quickly gave up, settling back down in bed and closing her eyes again.

"Are you jealous?" You asked, a smirk twinging your lips as her eyes snapped open to look at you.

"Of course not. I just didn't think my son was the romantic type, that's all." She said, before kissing you softly.

These early morning kisses were your favourite.

~~~~~

Date night arrived. Or at least it was supposed to. The booking Steven had made got cancelled, so he drove you back to his house, much to your dismay.

You looked hot. Your hair was up, accentuating your long neck and your red lips contrasted beautifully with the black dress that hung lightly off your figure. You were underdressed for autumn, but the previous night with Natasha made you feel beautiful and powerful, and that dress was begging to be worn.

You were confident when you chose that dress but going to Steven's and the thought of having to see Natasha in said dress filled you with dread.

It wasn't that you didn't want Natasha to see the dress; you just didn't want her to see the way Steven looked at you.

You were right to be worried.

It was Natasha who answered the door just as Steven was about to put his key in. The gasp was audible but she played it off as shock that the two of you were back rather than how she felt about you looking like that with him.

"Hi mom. The booking got cancelled." Steven said, his shoulders hung low.

"That is a shame sweetie." She said, rubbing his arm and ushering him into the kitchen. "Good job I just finished cooking."

You and Steven sat opposite each other as Natasha bought the plates of food out. Once everyone had a plate in front of them, she sat next to you. You bit your lip and refused to look up from the plate.

You bit into what looked like a little square pasty and suppressed a moan. Letting out the sound you wanted would only cause more problems than needed. "Wow, this is delicious."

"Thank you krasivaya. They're Pirozhki." Natasha said, her accent bleeding through in a way you knew was deliberate.

You tried to cover up the growing heat in your face by shoving more food in your mouth. Your leg jumped as you felt Natasha's hand on your thigh. You glanced up from your plate, your eyes meeting Steven's as regret punched you in the gut. He was so sweet and didn't deserve what you were doing to him.

This was wrong.

You wanted to move your leg, not wanting to be a cheater. Not in front of the man you were supposed to love. The only thing that stopped you was the wet patch growing in your panties from the way manicured nails traced along your skin.

You let out a sharp sigh, disappointed in yourself and feeling incredibly guilty about how you found out you liked girls. You were hurting an innocent man.

"You okay babe?" Steven asked, his voice full of concern.

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you couldn't take it anymore. You looked at Natasha, and the concern in her eyes was as clear as day. You just hoped she wouldn't hate you for this.

"Stevie, I can't do this anymore." You looked at his beautiful eyes. Eyes that should have been the ones you felt giddy about.

Steven smiled gently "I know."

A sob got caught in your throat. You weren't sure why you were about to cry; whether it was from relief or sadness that you couldn't be what Steven needed, you couldn't tell.

"How..." You trailed off, not sure what you wanted to ask or even how to ask it.

"You've been acting off Y/n. You have been for a few months now. Someone else has caught your attention and that's okay. I just hope they make you happy in a way I couldn't." Steven stood, most likely getting ready to go for a drive.

Tears rolled down your face freely now. The incredible guilt was ten times worse now. He truly was the sweetest man you knew.

"I just need to know, who is it?"

You froze, not wanting to tell him it was his own mother who stole your gaze.

For the first time throughout this entire conversation, Natasha spoke. "Do you really want to know?"

Steven pulled his eyes away from you, his expression turning steely. His jaw clenched, and fear flashed through you briefly. "I can't believe you."

Natasha's nails dug into your leg slightly, the only indication that she was nervous.

"Steven," You desperately let out. You weren't sure how to make this better. It wasn't like you were fucking his friend. This was his literal mother.

"No. No. I, I need to go. I can't stand to look at either of you right now."

Just like that, Steven left your life.

~~~~~

"Well, that went just about as well as could be expected." You sighed, glad that everything was out in the open, but a heaviness still weighed in your chest.

Natasha was standing on the back porch, leaning over the rail, looking into the darkness of the back garden. You had gone out to join her after you had collected yourself.

"Yeah." Natasha said quietly.

"I'm sorry." You weren't sure which bit you were apologising for. Was it the way you strung them both along for so long? Or was it the fact that you had broken a mother and son bond? There were countless crimes you had committed and not enough time in the world to apologise for them all.

Natasha sighed. "It's not your fault. I knew this would happen eventually."

There was a pause before you spoke, you weren't sure if you wanted to hear the answer to your question. "Do you regret it?"

She opened up her cigarette pack, lighting it and taking a drag before she answered. "No." She blew the smoke out from her nose.

"Those things will kill you." You said, watching as her plump lips crawled up into a smirk before blowing a particularly large smoke ring at you.

"Not if you kill me first sweetheart." She closed her eyes and allowed the moonlight to ease away any stress she was holding.

"Do you want to stop this? Before I kill you?" You knew the answer to this question before Natasha even began to speak. Her thoughts hadn't been a mystery to you for a long time now.

"Don't even ask that Y/n." She said, the panic slipping into her words. "I adore you."

"I adore you too."

With one last drag, Natasha snuffed out her cigarette, closing the box and throwing them over the railing into the bin below. She stepped towards you, trapping you between her and the railings. She kissed you harder than she had ever kissed you before, with more desperation than you had ever known.

"Why did you throw your cigarettes?" You asked, shocked that she would throw away the thing that had always been with her.

"I don't need them anymore. You're my new addiction."

[plant-flwrs]

hi love, it's me again! i just can't get enough of your writing... i'm sorry to be asking for another fic, i guess i just can't help myself. lately i've been obsessed with the fake dating thing, so i was wondering if you could write a fred x reader (basically same reader as my last request, gryffindor, same year as ron) with that? like, maybe george knows they fancy each other and makes a bet with him so they start fake datig but realise they're in love with each other? aaa thank you so much, ly

bets off // fred weasley 

masterlist!

a/n: i used the same pronouns from the last request, hope you don’t mind!! i apreciate u sm ur always so active w my fics ily <3333 this is the first thing i��ve written in a while that i’m actually proud of so i hope u guys like it :D

summary: Fred makes a bet with George that entails fake dating you for at least a month. He never expected to fall in love with you. 

(5k)

-----------

Competition was healthy. At least, that’s what Fred told himself as he looked at George’s outstretched hand, a cocky smile etching the boy’s lips. 

“Two weeks?” Fred asked, looking suspiciously at George.

“Two. Weeks.” George answered definitively, smirking at his brother. 

Fred considered this in his head. Two weeks to get you, someone who had never previously shown any romantic interest in him, to date him for at least a month. He doubted it would be hard, for he had never had any trouble getting girls to swoon for him in the past. A few winks and charming sentiments and you would be putty in his hand. With this air of confidence, he shook George’s hand.

“You idiot!” Lee, who had previously been silently watching the exchange, called from across the table, a baffled smile on his face.

George laughed, leaning back in his chair and looking at Fred like he agreed with Lee.

“What?” Fred asked, the overly confident look still littering his features.

“You can’t win with this one,” Lee explained, shaking his head, “you either piss off Ron when this goes right, you piss of Ron when this goes wrong, you come out the git for breaking a girls heart, or you come out the embarrassed git who was rejected by your kid brother’s best friend.”

“Hey,” Fred said, faking offence, “I never agreed to ask out Harry.”

George and Lee rolled their eyes, hiding smiles as they continued their homework.

Fred was not deterred by Lee’s warnings, for he had a plan to avoid all of that. He was simply going to tell you the truth.

He found you on your way to the green house, pulling you away from a Slytherin girl you were walking with.

“He just stared at her? Like he didn’t eve-” you felt an unexpected tugging, “Ah!”

You squealed, feeling your feet stumble under you for a moment as you gathered your wits again. You looked down at the hand pulling you, following it up to the face. It was Fred, which was odd, because you two were not known for pulling at each other in hallways.

“You’re going to miss Herbology!” your friend called out to you, a worried expression on her face.

“I’ll meet you there, save me a seat!” you called back to her, turning away and following Fred as he still dragged you.

“Fred? What are you doing?” you asked him, making no effort to move from his strong grip.

“Got to talk to you,” he said airily, barely looking back at you as he pulled you down an empty corridor. 

He let go of your arm, smiling down at you as you waited for him to speak. He didn’t take the hint, just looking at you.

“What did you want?” you glanced at your watch, seeing you only had a few minutes before Professor Sprout would start class.

“I have a proposition for you,” Fred drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as per usual, “what do ya say?”

You squinted your eyes at him, frowning, “I have to hear the proposition first.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, thats how propositions work.”

“I hadn’t realized,” he replied sarcastically, dropping his cool demeanor and letting some desperation seep into his voice.

“What do you want?” you repeated, slightly more annoyed.

“I may have made a bet that heavily relies on your willingness to do me a huge favor,” he said, a hopeful smile coming to his face.

“Oh god, Fred, what did you do?”

“George may have implied that I was in a dry spell when it came to girls,” he said, smirking, “and obviously that’s just not true. So, he suggested a bet to see if I still had my skills-”

“Your skills?”

“-yes my skills, would you listen?”

Fred leaned closer to you, his eyebrows raising as you rolled your eyes.

“Back to what I was saying,” he drew in a breath, dragging out this entire conversation, “George suggested a bet to see if I could still charm the ladies,” he wiggled his eyebrows and you quirked one of yours.

“Long story short-”

You interrupted again, “That was the short version of that story? Fred can’t we do this later, I’ve got class in,” you glanced at your watch. “two minutes.”

“No! Give me a second,” he ran a hand through his hair, putting his strong hands on your shoulders to keep you in place, “I made a bet with George that I could get you to fall in love with me in two weeks and date you for a month!”

You looked up at the boy, thinking he had gone off the end. He had to, either that or he was messing with you. Or maybe he had been slipped a potion of some sort.

“Fred,” you started, your kind tone giving Fred the impression you would agree to the plan, “you just waisted the very limited break I have between classes, successfully pulling me away from a very entertaining story about Snape, and probably making me late for Herbology.”

Fred groaned, throwing his head back in annoyance.

“I’m serious!” 

You pulled against Fred’s grip, but he kept you in place. His face lit up, obviously coming up with what he thought would be a great plan. He released you briefly, digging his hands in his bag and moving crumpled papers around. He pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper, brandishing it like it was a diamond. 

“This, my love, is going to get you out of Herbology this class period,” he said, unfolding the paper.

He revealed a blank piece of paper with tiny sparkles floating on the page. As he held it for a second longer, words began to form on the paper, writing something.

‘Professor Sprout,

Please excuse Y/n from Herbology this period, she came to me with a pain in her stomach and I gave her a potion to fix it. She stayed in the infirmary during the period.

-Poppy’

You had heard about these before, enchanted notes that were written in authentic handwriting and enchanted the reader to believe it, no matter what they said. Perfect for forging notes from teachers. 

You stared at the paper in awe, grabbing it from Fred’s loose grasp.

“Yeah, you’re welcome. That’s the last one I have,” he said, feeling a bit remorseful having to give it up. He had been planning to use it to get out of Ancient Runes tomorrow. 

You folded the paper again, putting it neatly in your bag and looking back at Fred.

“Alright, let’s go,” you sighed, allowing him to lead you to the great hall, through the courtyard, and out to the Quidditch Pitch where no teachers would be. 

You sat in the stands, overlooking the empty and wet field,

“You want me to date you for two weeks?” you asked, sounding reluctant.

“No,” Fred said, sounding annoyed, “I want to fake date you for a month, but we won’t start until two weeks from now.”

You squinted, looking out at the stands on the other side of the field. You were thinking about this, finding the cons to outweigh the pros.

“What’s in it for me?” you paused, hearing Fred’s groan from beside you, “I mean, this could ruin my friendship with Ron, I get the embarrassing reputation when you fake dump me in a month, I don’t see how this is benefiting me.”

“Ron won’t care, I promise you,” Fred said acting as if this was obvious, “he lets Harry ogle Ginny all the time. And as for our fake dumping, that can be totally on your terms. I just need to win the bet with George.”

“What do you get if you win?”

Fred had hoped you weren’t going to ask that, but he was realizing you were smarter than he thought.

“Three Galleons,” he lied, looking at your skeptical face in the corner of his eye, “fine, six Galleons.”

You looked expectantly at him, waiting for his offer.

“I’ll split it with you,” he finally gave in.

He was a little upset at having to share his future winnings, but once you agreed to the bet and squealed excitedly at the possibility of some Galleons, a smile spread on his face.

Fred began laying the groundwork the next day. He made sure to send you flirtatious smiles when George was looking, waving to you in the halls, and talking to you in the common room.

You, Hermione, and Ron sat at a table in the corner, the three of you poured over a chess match. Ron was successfully beating Hermione, watching her as she tried to remember the rules he had taught her over and over. 

“You can’t do that,” he said impatiently as Hermione tried to move a pawn backwards. His hand reached out and returned the piece back to where it was, and Hermione groaned.

You leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes and turning your head up towards the ceiling. 

“Hello,” Fred purred from above you, looking down at you.

You snapped your eyes open, not entirely used to Fred’s flirting yet. It took you by surprise most days, and he always managed to get you when you weren’t expecting it. You looked to Ron, gauging his reaction. His eyes stayed locked on Hermione’s frustrated face, arms crossed as he waited for her move.

“Hello,” you replied, turning your head to face Fred as he move to your side. 

He leaned against your chair, his hand supporting his weight as he wrapped it around the back of your chair. The top of his hip bumped into your shoulder, and you resisted the urge to lean away from him. It’s not that Fred Weasley was disgusting or anything, he certainly wasn’t, but he had a reputation. Fred wasn’t known to be faithful or respectful of the usual rules regarding relationships. He wasn’t tied down, and half the student body has seen him naked (or wanted to). You had gone through your phase of liking Fred, and that phase lasted longer than you’d like to admit. You refused to boost his ego, though, and felt determined to not let this fake dating get to your head. 

Ron was still busy with his chess match, now watching Hermione’s focused gaze turn into a nervous one as she became aware of Ron’s eyes on her. She bit her lip, tapping her fingers on the table.

Fred glanced down at you, quirking an eyebrow and nodding his head towards Ron. He was showing you that Ron wouldn’t care if you two dated, testing Ron’s limits.

Fred’s hand moved slowly from the back of your chair to your shoulder. His slender fingers pressed gently on your clothed arm, moving to brush a piece of hair from your neck. He twirled a piece of your hair in his fingers, raising an amused eyebrow at Ron’s lack of reaction.

“Merlin, Hermione! I’ve taught you 100 times!”

Hermione scoffed, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.

“Ron!” she exclaimed back, offended.

“Look,” he moved his hand to one of her pieces. He whisked it across the board, then one of his pieces, and then one of Hermione’s, and then one of his own, “Check.”

“Maybe if you had patience and didn’t stare me down every time it was my turn-” Hermione started, glancing to you for support.

Her eyes widened when she saw the somewhat intimate position you were in with Fred, her sentence dropping. 

“If you didn’t take so long, I wouldn’t stare you down!” Ron huffed and pushed his chair back, standing suddenly.

He hadn’t even glanced at you and Fred, missing Hermione’s shocked expression.

“What are you doing?” she questioned Fred, sounding even more offended than when Ron was yelling at her a moment ago.

“What?” Fred replied nonchalantly, pushing his body away from yours and taking Ron’s seat.

He moved the chair closer to the table, purposefully brushing his knee against yours. You knew he was watching your face, so you kept a neutral expression.

“He was all over you,” Hermione whispered to you, as if Fred wasn’t right in front of her,

“So?” you asked, acting as if it wasn’t abnormal for Fred to ‘be all over you’.

You were internally cringing at the whole thing, at Fred’s forwardness, lying to Hermione, the whole situation.

“Something must be in the air today,” Hermione said to no one in particular as she stood from the table, “everyone’s lost their minds.”

She left you and Fred, leaving him with a smirk on his face.

“I think that went well,” Fred said, moving the pieces on the chess board around swiftly as he set it up for a new game.

You moved to Hermione’s seat so you were across from him, rolling your eyes. 

“This is ridiculous, Fred,” you said, and at the sound of your genuine annoyance his eyes were on your face.

The board in front of you was set anew, white closest to you. You let yourself sit in your frustration for a moment, looking down at the board and moving a pawn. Fred made no move to his own pieces, just staring at you from his side of the table.

“What d’you mean?” he said, watching your hand retreat from the board. 

“These public displays of affection- isn’t it a little ridiculous?” you said, locking your eyes on the game in front of you.

A look of hurt flashed across Fred’s face, not that you would have seen it, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. His hand lazily moved one of his pawns.

“I don’t think so, no,” he said, leaning back in his chair and still studying your face, “I think they’re quite effective.”

“They’re only effective because I’m playing along,” you moved another pawn, hoping Fred would take the bait so you could steal his pawn.

“Which I appreciate fully,” he said, leaning forward and moving his pawn exactly where you wanted him to.

You stole his piece, advancing on the board. He hadn’t even registered the game, frankly, only looking at you.

“I feel like-” you didn’t know what you felt. You hadn’t put it into words, but you knew you didn’t like it.

Fred, and older, charming, handsome boy, was showing you a new amount of attention. Fred, a boy you had a crush on almost the entire time you’ve known him, was sending you flirtatious winks in the hallways and being very affectionate. Fred, your best friend’s older brother, was trying to date you to win a bet.

“-nevermind,” you finished, realizing you could not say any of this aloud. 

Fred had a quizzical look on his face, watching you as you silently sat across from him. You met his eyes for the first time since he sat down, swallowing hard. You stared at each other for at least a minute, neither of you moving or breaking the contact. His eyes had an intensity in them that you had never seen before, but they were also gentle and kind. He looked soft, his face illuminated by the faint candle light and fireplace, casting a yellow hue over his skin. His hair was grown out and pushed off his forehead, falling easily on the sides of his face. He had taken his tie off, though still in his school uniform, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His mouth, usually in a resting smirk, was thin and straight, making him look rarely serious. 

You felt like it took ages, but you finally broke his stare and cast your eyes downward at the board. You looked back up at him, seeing his eyes unmoving from your face.

“Your move,” you said, raising an eyebrow. 

Fred’s eyes shot to the board, and he moved the first piece he saw. His mind was racing as he tried to collect his thoughts, all of which were about you. 

He had no idea what happened, but his heart was beating incredibly fast and his hands were sweating. Fred, a man who had never once done anything serious, was feeling very serious. He didn’t know what was going on inside his head, but all he knew was that he thought you were remarkably beautiful. You were perfect, really, and he could not wait for this game of chess to end so he could get the hell away from you. 

Fred had never been in any sort of serious relationship. He had never dated a girl for longer than a few weeks, usually doing something that offended them (that was often mentioning how hot another girl was, or, in the worst case, snogging said other girl). He didn’t care for anything long-term, anything serious, because he couldn’t be bothered to find anyone that interesting. You, however, made his hands sweat. No one had ever made Fred’s hands sweat. No one had ever made Fred’s mind run blank.

He blinked at the board, realizing it was his turn again, and felt like giggling like a school girl. He shot his head up, looking around the common room and pretending to be in a hurry.

“Have you got the time?” he asked, watching as you looked down at your wrist- eyes flickering to your hand, which he realized he wanted nothing more than to hold in that moment- checking the time on your watch and telling him. He sprang from his chair, “I told George I’d meet him in a few, can we continue this later?”

He hadn’t even waited for an answer before he was running through the portrait hole, nearly knocking a few first years off their feet when he bumped into them.

Fred disappeared from the common room, leaving you with the chess board.

For the next few days, Fred’s flirting was non-existent. He wasn’t ignoring you, but the entire dynamic between you had shifted; something changed. He wasn’t painfully arrogant, seeming to take more effort in the way he treated you. There was no inappropriate flirting, no lustful winks. You wondered if the bet was still on.

You found out soon that it was. 

You and Hermione left the library fairly late into the afternoon, but neither of you minded the time that got away from you. You spent the day doing very little actual studying, talking and laughing instead. There was a very few amount of people who could tear Hermione away from her studies, and she didn’t often like to admit that you were one of them. 

“Are you going to tell me why Fred was so-” she broke off, shuddering in some sort of disgusted way that made you laugh “-touchy with you the other day?”

Hermione had been pressing a little bit every time she saw you about Fred, and you had been avoiding it every time. 

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about. That was just Fred being Fred,” you insisted, rolling your eyes playfully. 

The guilt of lying to your friends left you a few days ago, instead you only felt overwhelming uneasiness as your schoolgirl crush for Fred resurfaced. You couldn’t help it; the hot older boy you had liked since your first year was suddenly putting himself in compromising situations with you. So, you couldn’t tell Hermione about Fred’ bet, because then you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself telling her about your genuine crush. 

“Really?” Hermione teased, bumping her shoulder into yours.

“Yes, really,” you insisted, turning the corner to the main staircase that was crowded with students wandering the castle on the weekend afternoon, “ I don’t get why your fixating on this, ‘Mione.”

Your words, however, fell on deaf ears. Her gaze was locked on something on the stairs beneath you both. You followed it, seeing the heavy stream of students starting to part. From your position, you couldn’t see much through the crowd, but soon the crowd thinned around you and you got closer.

Fred stood on the landing, a huge bouquet of flowers in his hands. You bit your lip, trying to hide the laugh bubbling in your chest. Such a grand gesture for a fake one-month relationship, this boy was determined to beat George and win those three Galleons. You felt Hermione clutching loosely to your arm, a dazed sort of look overcoming her features. You couldn’t help but laugh at this, prying yourself free from her grip and walking down the stairs to meet Fred.

He also looked sort of dazed, and with a quizzical expression you felt your face heat up under the stares of everyone in the stairwell. You came to the landing, looking up at Fred. His hand shook a little as he held the flowers, and he bit his lip harshly. 

“Want to go out with me?” he asked, a surprisingly earnest voice replacing his usual smug one. 

You glanced at your watch, moving to stand on your toes to reach him. You moved your mouth to his ear, speaking so only he could hear you, “You’re about a week early with this gesture, Freddie.”

He chuckled, and from being so close to him his chest bumped yours slightly. You fell to stand flat on your feet, still close to him. He looked down at you, holding the flowers between your chests. 

“I don’t like following schedules,” he said, grinning down at you.

You resisted the urge to wrap your arms around his shoulders and never let go, settling instead on a bashful smile. He handed you the flowers, the brown paper they were wrapped in feeling a little damp from how profusely his hands were nervously sweating.

When he made this bet with George, he had just planned on kissing you in some busy hallway to announce the start of your relationship, as he did with most of his relationships. Somehow, though, you felt more special. His stomach sank every time he thought about the limited and fake month he’d have to with you, but he forced his way through it. 

So he went to the field by Hagrid’s hut and picked the best flowers he could find, wrapping them in a brown paper and organizing them so they were perfect, because you were perfect. 

He looked down at you, watching you as you held the flowers up to your face and smelled them. Your eyes were light and filled with innocent excitement, giving him an enchanting smile that showed all your teeth; you looked incredibly and undeniably happy, and that made Fred happy. 

You had both nearly forgotten about the entire student body surrounding you both, watching the exchange. Fred, feeling unnerved by the vulnerability he had exhibited in such a large crowd, looked up and smiled smugly, wiggling his eyebrows. The entire staircase erupted in a somewhat jumbled mix of cheers and laughter, sending a deep red blush to your cheeks. Fred looked down at you, and in a moment of unfiltered happiness, brought his hands to your cheeks. He lifted your head from where you had ducked it to hide the blush, forcing you to look up at him with the embarrassed grin on your lips. Before he could think about what he was doing, his face was leaning closer to yours and his hands on your cheeks were pulling you closer to him. You barely had the time to register what was happening, only hearing the laughter and cheers around you get louder as Fred’s face was pressed against yours.

He was fast at first, passionate and quick as if he thought he only had a second before you pulled away. You couldn’t though, even though every bone in your body was telling you to. Your lasting feelings for Fred were telling you that this kiss was okay, that your friendship with Ron would take the backseat for a while as you let Fred press himself against you. Your thoughts were fading, being replaced with the hyper awareness of everywhere Fred was touching you. His lips slowed and his breathing became slower too. He let out a sigh through his nose, the air hitting your face and sending a brand new flush to your cheeks. His hands on your cheeks stopped pulling you towards him, now being a gentle and soft presence on your skin. His left hand was grazing your jaw, his calloused fingertips tickling the skin lightly. His right hand cupped your cheek firmly still, but his thumb rubbed against your cheekbone. You held the flowers in one hand, and it wasn’t until a few seconds into the kiss that you had even remembered you had hands. You rested your hand holding the flowers against his chest, tilting the bouquet so it didn’t hit Fred in the face. Your other hand snaked up his arm, clutching loosely at his strong forearm as it hung between your bodies. 

You were both at each other’s wills, you would do anything Fred and Fred vowed to himself that he would follow you to the ends of the Earth, if you asked him to. 

The spark moving through Fred’s body was nothing he had ever felt before. He didn’t feel it when he kissed Angelina Johnson, his first kiss, after winning a Quidditch match. He didn’t feel it when he drunkenly kissed Alicia Spinnet at a party. He didn’t feel anything close to this when he kissed Katie Bell in a game of truth or dare last year. You were completely new to Fred, and part of him already knew he wanted to spend every second with you from then on out.

You pulled away first, entirely and completely breathless. You looked up at Fred, mouth opening and closing like an out of water fish as you tried to find words to say in this moment. Fred just chuckled, bringing his hand on your cheek to graze his knuckles against your swollen lips. You closed your mouth, feeling okay with having nothing to say, and figuring it was better to not say anything anyways. 

The crowd registered in your brain, making you feel extremely embarrassed again. You shoved your face into Fred’s chest, hiding the flush all over your face.

“Alright! Shows over, you perverts,” Fred called out, smiling widely at the group.

You heard the shuffling of feet begin around you, the traffic beginning once again. A few wolf whistles reached your ears, and you didn’t remove yourself from Fred’s chest until you were sure everyone had moved on.��

Fred’s large hand rested on the back of your head, soothing down your hair. You found it oddly intimate, and you knew letting all of this happen was only setting yourself up for hurt when this bet was inevitably over, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Pulling away finally, your flowers clutched at your side, you took a deep breath. You were bringing your gaze to look up at Fred, but a group of redheads standing behind him caught your eyes and made them widen.

“I am so telling mum you have a girlfriend!” Ginny squealed, her voice easily heard in the now empty stairwell.

Fred turned to face his family, seeing Ginny, Ron, George, Hermione, and Harry looking at him as if he’s sprouted five new limbs.

Ron elbowed Ginny, sending her a wide-eyed look, “my bestfriend is not his girlfriend!” Ron said confidently, then turning to Fred with a threatening look, “My bestfriend is not your girlfriend.”

Fred smiled nervously, “I’m not dating Harry, Ron,” he attempted to joke, only earning a laugh from George and an embarrassed look from Harry. 

You peaked from behind Fred, meeting the group. You smiled at them sheepishly, meeting Hermione’s baffled eyes.

“I knew it!” she called, causing the entire group to turn their heads to look at her, “I knew you fancied her.”

Hermione looked quite proud of herself, but Ron looked fuming. Harry had sort of a ‘I-saw-this-coming’ look on his face.

“Guys,” you said, stepping towards them, “Ron.”

You gave Ron a pleading look, prepared to embarrass yourself and set the whole thing straight, even prepared to lose 3 Galleons. Suddenly, Hermione stepped between you and Ron.

“Ronald,” she said sternly, snapping Ron out from his angry mood briefly, “I hope you are not about to prevent a lovely relationship just because you have no emotional intelligence or maturity regarding these subjects.”

Your eyes widened from behind Hermione, casting a shocked glance to Fred. George and Ginny stifled their laughter, saving an embarrassed Ron some of his pride after being scolded by Hermione. 

“But he’s my brother!” he whined, his anger leaving him and instead being replaced by some sort of tame disgust.

You couldn’t take it, every part of you wanted to tell them it was a bet, the galleons be damned. You looked to Fred with a warning look, only to see him digging in his pockets.

“George,” he called out, removing his hand from his pocket and clutching something, “catch.”

Fred tossed six coins at George, and George caught them with surprise.

“Bets off,” Fred said, looking painfully serious. 

You felt your breath hitch in your throat, an immense feeling of guilt wash over you. You had cost Fred six galleons, even after the work he had put in. He had kissed you for the sake of it, and you couldn’t go one month. 

“Fred,” you stuttered, looking at him with guilt

His mouth broke into a grin, however, and he took a few steps towards you. George watched Fred’s movements, and began pulling away the group. Ron, still standing there with a confused look on his face, was tugged away by the back of his collar.

“I don’t want to fake date you,” he whispered to you once he was close enough, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“Well, that seems like a lot of work for nothing, then-” you started, only for his lips to fall onto yours and silence you.

You couldn’t help it, again, as you let yourself melt into him. He pulled away all too soon however, resting his forehead on yours as he looked into your eyes. 

“I want to date you for real,” he said, biting his lip nervously, “not as a bet.”

Your eyes widened, and once again you could not think of anything to say. You opened and closed your mouth, searching for the words, but gave up. You gave a relieved sigh, hearing the words you had dreamed of hearing since you were 12, and kissed Fred Weasley. 

[strongsassysexysloane]

Eleventh Day of Twelve - A Tired but Treasured Day

A/N - Look at that! We are second from the end! Thank you to all the comments and love! Really appreciate it, it's been a long week!

. . . .

Read previous drabbles below.

. . . .

You walked into the office clinging to your cup of coffee. It felt like you were just here and you were, only five hours ago. This time however it was your own doing. You'd found a tiny shred of evidence to go on and had to follow it before the trail went cold. Then it lead to Gibbs and Nick finding the killer in a warehouse in town and bringing him in at just after 0100. You didn't finish interrogating until 0200 and it was now 0730. Coffee, coffee needed to be pumped into you to wake up this morning and a constant flow throughout the day would be required.

To your delight there was a hot cup sitting on your desk as you walked into the bullpen. No note so you assumed this time it wasn't from your gift giver. Day 11 and no one had spilled the beans or gone looking at the cameras like they wanted to on day one.

"Gibbs dropped it off about five minutes ago before he went down to get a report from Kasie who wasn't pleased to be called in so early." Ellie explained while leaning back in her chair and sipping her coffee. "He brought one for all of us."

"Christmas miracles do happen." Nick grinned, dropping his small cup in the trash. "Done."

"It's not a race. You just slugged all your energy for the next three hours."

"Oh please, I've stayed up later and come to work more tired before. Remember the November incident." He waved off.

"I still feel hungover from it." Ellie grumbled, scrunching her nose at the memory of Tequila.

"Please don't remind me." Tim groaned. "Plus I'm not allowed anymore Tequila, Delilah's orders."

"She may be on to something." You ran your hand through your hair, smirking at the banter. Turning on your computer for the day, you saw the next gift hanging from your desk lamp. It was beautiful, a little teddy bear carved out of marble with a shimmering purple and green crown sitting on its head.

"Day 11, the gift giver strikes again." You rolled your eyes at Nick's words while holding the Christmas decoration in your hand, running your thumb over the intricate detail.

It was sweet, a cute addition to your small Christmas tree at home. You'd put it up on December one. That was your tradition and some years it didn't seem worth it but you made the effort. Being alone on Christmas sucked, there was no way around it but this year you were making an effort to not sulk about it. The secret gift giver certainly lifted the spirit as well.

Your tree wasn't over the top but a nice addition to your home. This would fit perfectly front and centre and you made sure of it.

The day was relatively easy. The office banter keeping the spirits going with a good supply of caffeine. It was really just a lot of paper work and then you were set free around mid afternoon to try and have that weekend off. This time Vance made sure the team wouldn't be called in. There were other agents to take the call after all.

You'd missed Jack most of the day and didn't want to interrupt her as she was head deep in evals for the end of year. Instead you decided to shoot her a text when you got home.

- Just wanted to say have a good weekend. Didn't want to interrupt your head mojo.

You knew she'd get a kick out of it and you weren't mistaken.

- Head mojo hey? Smarty in the evening just like you said. Missed you today, didn't realise how many evals I still had to do before I went on my trip. Now I'm back logged and still at work.

It was just hitting 1830 which was a late one for Jack on a Friday. She was always hurrying along at the end of the week to make sure by the time 1700 hit she was out the door.

- I hope you are either finishing for the evening or planning on having dinner while you work. It's getting late, Jack.

- No need to worry about little old me. I need to get these done, I'll grab a bite later. Enjoy your night.

An idea popped to mind, you grabbed your coat and car keys and headed back out into the snowfall with your blue scarf still wrapped around your neck.

Thankfully, you weren't too far from the Navy yard and the Diner was just a five minute detour on the route. You called ahead so the food was ready when you got there and still warm when you knocked on her door.

"Come in, y/n."

You huffed, opening the door. "Now how could you possibly know it was me?"

Jack was sitting on her couch, shoes off, legs crossed and glasses tugging her hair back and sitting on her head. "You didn't reply, you always reply. And you care too much." She got up, placing her laptop on the coffee table and walking up to you.

Those were a lot of compliments you weren't entirely prepared for. You thought Jack was the one that cared a lot, but never too much. "I think I care just the right amount but I can eat this all by myself if you'd prefer?" You smirked, pretending to walk back out but Jack caught your arm.

"I didn't mean it like that. I lo-ike that you care so much." She ran her hand up and down your arm a few times before dropping it away. Her warm comforting smile turned into a cute frown. "And don't you dare walk out on me now that youve made all this effort to come here." She took a deep breath in. "Is that two cheeseburgers and fries?"

The frown and the way her nose twitched at the smell was completely adorable. "With a side of gravy. Wasn't sure if you liked it on your fries or not." You shrugged, missing the soft and loving look Jack gave, you walked past her and sat at one end of the couch, unpacking the bag of food. "Come, sit." You urged, patting the spot beside you as she just stood there and watched.

With a soft smile curving her lips, she came around after a beat and sat exactly where you said to. She took the small pot of gravy and poured it over her fries before pouring the rest over yours. "Thank you."

You bumped her shoulder lightly. "Anytime. Can't have Jack Sloane Hangry and loose in DC." That got you a slap on the knee but it was worth it as her hand soothed the spot she hit and stayed there for a while until it was time to eat.

"Didn't mean to ruin your Friday night plans either." She took a huge bite of the burger.

Between bites you managed an answer, "You mean my big watching The Holiday movie while eating a cup of noodles or the one where I go to sleep at 7pm because im living on about four hours sleep right now."

Skipping over how tired you were she jumped at the mention of the movie. "That's my favourite Christmas movie! It's got the best of both worlds! The sun of LA and the cold winter wonderland of the UK. God, I haven't watched that in years! My mum and I went to the movies to watch it and then every Christmas after we'd watch it together, some people had Love Actually, we had The Holiday. Guess I stopped watching when mum passed." She ate a few more fries. "Wow, Jack, way to ruin the good mood. Sorry. Got lost for a moment there."

You liked it when she rambled. She always would say so many interesting things and you just loved to hear her voice. You prayed the day never came when you wouldn't hear it anymore. "Don't apologize-" You held up your hand to stop her from butting in. "- And, no it's not because of Gibbs silly rule. I enjoy hearing about your past about things you love or did. The Holiday is a sweet movie, my must watch in December along with The Grinch, Home Alone and many more. I try my best to keep the holiday spirits up when I'm by myself for them which has been the last many."

"I enjoy hearing you talk too." She smiled, taking a massive bite of her burger and filling up her cheeks.

There was no silence after that. The evals were put to the side and you talked for what seemed like hours. Talking about childhood Christmas' and silly stories to cringe worthy dating moments over this time of year. It wasn't until you couldn't keep your mouth shut from yawning that you said good night around 2300.

"Sorry you didn't get your evals done." You sing over the roof of your car as Jack unlocked her Mini.

"Don't be. I'm happy to come in tomorrow because tonight was fun!" Her genuine smile told you that she wasn't lying. You could read people pretty well and most times Jack Sloane was an enigma to you but right now you knew she was telling the truth.

"Good night, Jack."

She opened her car door before adding. "Enjoy your movie!"

You yawned with a laugh. "You're kidding right? I'm going to sleep, I'll watch it tomorrow now."

"Fair, good night y/n. Sweet Dreams!"

. . . .

Who doesn't want this to end? Me. But I also maybe, slightly want a break from writing every day. It's been fun but tiring. I've enjoyed it a lot though! I love this time of year, if only I wasn't working in retail.