#i found it terribly funny n i felt inspired

[clowncloud]

ID: two screenshots of tumblr posts by user contemptible-scoundrel that read 'I'm trying to obtain gems' and 'you got any gems brother? I'm running low' followed by the shrek they don't even have dental meme edited to say they don't even have much gems

[ikkyfics]

Right Motivation

Dave Lizewski x fem!reader

Summary: "Come on, Lizewski, is it motivation you need? I can offer you something." The words slipped out before you realized. “Would you be willing to do anything?” Dave asked, his voice deep and firmer than usual.

Warnings: just a very motivated Dave to get a kiss

A/N: this reminds me that i should have gotten past a level in god of war but it's just impossible and i'm absolutely frustrated with it

To my dear @gingerteafairy, you inspired me to write this, I hope you enjoy reading it <333

Masterlist

Your room seemed smaller with Dave there, not because of lack of space, but because of his presence. It wasn't the first time he had entered your space, but you always felt nervous seeing him with your favorite stuffed animals and books — and maybe you hid your posters of shirtless men, after all, some embarrassments can be avoided.

Your mother always smiled a little when she saw you bring Dave home, and it was extremely embarrassing to hear her say how much you looked like lovebirds after he left. Your father, however, always reminded you to keep the door open. Those quiet boys are the worst, he said.

You always had to remind them that Dave was your friend. Just that, a friend. They never seemed convinced of it. And to be honest, a part of you didn't want to believe it either.

Today you had brought him here under the pretext of not being able to pass a level in the video game. You had almost lost your mind after continuing to fail and fail over and over again. Your pillow had to muffle many screams of indignation.

But now you found it funny how it was Dave who was visibly frustrated. Your backpacks were forgotten near the door, as was his coat. Your mother had made sure to stuff them with generous slices of pie before leaving, but not before commenting that you should use condoms. At least she had the decency to speak quietly, so that only you could hear.

Now, in your room, he was sitting on the floor in a sloppy manner, his back resting on your bed while his hands firmly gripped the joystick. You couldn't help but pay attention to how his fingers moved: fast and precise, it was mesmerizing. Not only that, but how his hands seemed to swallow the joystick, the way the veins formed a high relief on his pale skin. What would it feel like to have those hands on you? You swallowed at the thought, shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

Your movement caught his eye. “Okay?” He asked, tilting his head so he could look at you on the bed. His dark eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Sure,” you replied, still perched like a lazy cat on the mattress, though there was a slight blush on your cheeks. “Just seeing how bad you are at this game.”

“That’s what you get for trying to help someone,” he huffed, his blue eyes returning to the game.

You laughed. “Seriously, it took you twice as long as I did to get to that part.”

“Sorry, not everyone can be perfect like you.”

You froze, feeling your heart stumble in your chest. This was the kind of dangerous thing he shouldn’t say. A choked laugh bubbled out of your lips. “You’re a terrible liar.”

He rolled his shoulders, his voice lower when he spoke again. “Believe what you want.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, your eyes fixed on his dark curls. Usually, it was Dave who left everyone confused with his words, but in moments like this, he always had the ability to say things that left you speechless.

Without thinking, you crawled to the edge of the bed, lying on your stomach with your head next to his. His scent wafted up to your nose, but you tried not to pay attention to it. You scooted a little closer, your lips almost brushing against the shell of his ear. “Less talk and more action, Lizewski.”

Dave tried to focus on the game, but you knew you had messed with him. The tension in his shoulders said it all. He blinked a few times, his fingers hesitating over the buttons on the joystick, before turning slightly towards you. His face was closer now, and his blue eyes searched yours. The silence between you seemed to stretch, heavy, but charged with something you couldn't quite define. It was as if the air in the room had changed, become denser, more… electric.

"Are you trying to distract me?" he asked, his voice lower than before, but still tinged with nervousness.

"Maybe." You arched an eyebrow, showing more confidence than you actually had. Your heart was hammering, but you refused to back down. "Come on, Lizewski, is it motivation you need? I can offer you something." The words slipped out before you realized, but you didn't regret it.

He blinked, clearly surprised by the provocation. For a moment, it looked like he was going to choke on his own saliva, but then he swallowed hard—a movement your eyes made sure to follow—and something in his expression changed. There was still hesitation, but it was replaced by a strange determination, as if he were trying to anchor himself to something.

“Would you be willing to do anything?” Dave asked, his voice deep and firmer than usual. His eyes locked on yours, and the entire room seemed to shrink into that moment.

Your throat went dry. It was as if the way he looked at you had a tangible weight, something that held you in place. Your mind tried to find an answer, but all you could do was nod slowly, lost in the thousand and one meanings his question implied. “Yes.”

His smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, small but filled with a new, almost irresistible confidence. “Okay.”

He turned his face back to the screen, and suddenly he looked like a completely different person. His posture changed, the joystick now felt like an extension of his hands. Dave played with a fierce determination in his eyes, his movements precise and quick, as if he were on an impossible mission to fail. You could barely pay attention to the game, because everything in you was focused on him—on the way he frowned, the way his tongue slipped slightly between his lips as he concentrated. Something inside you twisted violently, the anticipation eating away at you from the inside out. When he finally passed the level, the sound of the game announcing his victory seemed like a distant echo.

You blinked, realizing you had been holding your breath the whole time. “Congratulations,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended, filled with something you couldn’t even name. It was as if an electric current had passed through the room, pulsing between you. Dave looked at you with that shy smile, but his eyes were different now—more intense, as if searching for something in you that he didn’t have the courage to say yet.

You followed his every move as he stood up, your fingers fidgeting as if trying to contain your own restlessness. Your eyes traced the path from the disheveled hair to the way his T-shirt fit his lean, muscular torso. He sat on the edge of the bed, one hand splayed on the flowered blanket as he leaned toward you, and it was impossible to ignore the heat that rose up your neck, your skin alight under the weight of his proximity, more aware than ever of another person’s body.

Involuntarily, you shrank a little in the bed, feeling small in front of him. Up close, his shoulders seemed broader and there was something about him that made you want to get closer. He was standing so close now, and the tension felt like a rope stretched taut between you, ready to snap.

Dave paused, hesitant, and ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Can I… can I ask you something?" His voice was husky, filled with uncertainty, but there was something else there. Something that made your heart beat faster.

You nodded, your lips slightly parted, your breath shallow. "Yes."

He bit his lip, his eyes flickering down to your mouth before returning again, meeting yours with a vulnerability so genuine that you almost lost your breath. "A kiss."

Your heart stumbled, then raced. You blinked, trying to process what he had just said. A kiss. Dave had asked for a kiss. How could one of your dreams be unfolding right in front of you? It was impossible to ignore the way his gaze seemed to burn into you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

A slow smile played across your lips, the kind of smile you knew was slightly teasing. “A kiss, huh?” you repeated, your voice soft, almost a purr as you looked at his mouth. The way his lips were parted, pink and absurdly inviting.

He nodded, his cheeks tinged with red, but he didn’t look away.

You leaned forward slightly, your hands pressed against the mattress to steady yourself. Your eyes never left his as you approached. The room seemed frozen in time, the air thick, almost suffocating. When you were close enough for your breath to brush against his skin, you tilted your face slightly, pressing your lips against the soft skin of his face. His breathing hitched as you remained close, your mouth a ridiculous distance from his.

“Is this where you wanted it?” you asked, your voice low and deliberately teasing, framed by a lopsided smile.

Dave stiffened, his lips parting in silent protest before he shook his head. He looked like he was about to short-circuit. You loved it.

“No?” You leaned in again, the smile on your lips growing as you placed a second kiss, this time closer to his jaw, moving purposefully slowly. “And here?” You questioned, closing your eyes for a moment as you pressed your nose into the crook of his neck, filling your lungs with his scent. How many times had you imagined this moment?

He shook his head again, visibly shaken.

You opened your mouth to speak, but before you could say anything else, he closed the distance between you in one quick, unexpected movement. You sighed against his mouth, surprise quickly replaced by appreciation. His hands rose to cup your face, hesitant for a split second, before steadying themselves against your skin. His fingers were warm, a little shaky, but there was an urgency to his touch that felt impossibly right, like he was trying to make sure you wouldn’t slip away.

The kiss started out soft, almost shy, but that hesitation disappeared all too quickly. He tilted his head to press his lips against yours, and the awkward urgency of his movements was as palpable as the rapid beating of your own heart. You found yourself gripping the front of his shirt without thinking, your knuckles pressed against the fabric, searching for some point of balance as the world around you seemed to dissolve.

His lips were soft, but there was a strength there that completely disarmed you. He pushed you down the bed until your back was pressed against the soft mattress, his mouth never leaving yours, his hands trailing down your sides in an exploratory manner. The heat of his palms made your skin tingle, and you could feel how breathless he was, but still he seemed unable to stop. You tried to pull him closer, your fingers tangling in his dark curls as you felt some of his weight pressed against your chest.

When you finally broke apart, panting, the silence between you was deafening. He opened his eyes first, and his were so close, so intense, that you felt your breath catch. Your eyes dropped to his lips, glossy and pinker than ever. Because of you, his mouth was like this because of you.

“I’ve… wanted to do this for a long time,” he admitted, his husky voice scratching his throat, as if the words had been stuck in his throat for years.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you stared at him, trying to find something to say. “Men really are capable of anything with the right motivation,” you teased, but your voice came out lower, shakier than you intended. Revealing some of your own nervousness.

Dave smiled, a small, almost uncertain smile, but his eyes were shining with something new. He didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss, more intense than the first.

This time, there was no room for hesitation. His hands moved down to your hips, kneading the covered flesh, pulling you even closer, eliminating any distance that still existed as he crushed you against his broad chest. Your fingers dug into his hair, tugging lightly, and you were greeted by a low growl from his throat, sending shivers down your spine. The kiss was everything you never knew you needed: clumsy, hungry, and most of all, sincere.

When he pulled away again, he wasted no time, his warm, soft mouth quickly finding its way to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses that made you whimper. His kisses set your skin on fire, making you crave more. “Dave,” you sighed, your body arching to allow him to continue.

“Fuck, look what you’re doing to me,” he cursed, the words vibrating against your skin, this time in an almost reverent tone, as he pulled away just enough to look at you. His eyes, so intense, seemed to examine every detail of your face, as if he wanted to memorize the moment. His hands remained firm on you, his fingers pressing lightly, as if he still feared that you might slip away. “I’ve never played with such a desire to win,” he admitted, his voice low and husky, thick with emotion.

You laughed, a soft sound that turned into a shaky sigh as his fingers trailed up your side, stopping near your ribs. “I would have kissed you even if you had lost, Lizewski,” you confessed, heat rising to your face.

He stopped in surprise, his eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that made your stomach turn. “Really?”

You nodded, a small, shy smile playing on your lips. “Really.”

He laughed then, a sound that was both incredulous and relieved, and lowered his head until their foreheads touched. "Shit, that would have saved me a lot of nervousness."

“I don’t know,” you murmured teasingly. “It was kind of fun seeing you so focused. Kind of… sexy, even.”

Dave let out a snicker, but there was a glint of newfound confidence in his eyes. He leaned in again, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slower this time, more exploratory, as if he wanted to enjoy every second. The rhythm changed, but the intensity didn’t diminish. His hands moved down your waist, stopping at the curve of your hips, while his fingers drew slow, mesmerizing circles on your skin, even through the fabric of your clothes. You felt your own hands move of their own accord, sliding down his chest, exploring the unexpected firmness beneath his shirt. Each touch felt like a promise that you were just getting started.

When you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, Dave looked at you with a mix of adoration and amazement, as if he was still trying to process what had just happened. “I still can’t believe this is real,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, feeling your heart warm at his vulnerability. “Well, if it’s not real, I don’t want to wake up.”

Dave laughed again, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe his luck. “This is so much better than anything I’ve ever imagined.”

“Imagine it, huh?” you teased, arching an eyebrow as your smile took on a hint of mischief.

A blush crept up his face, but he didn’t look away. “Yeah… I’ve kind of… imagined it more times than I should have,” he admitted, his shoulders rising slightly in an almost childish gesture.

You couldn’t help but laugh, warm and genuine, and you ran your fingers through his hair. “You’re so adorable, Lizewski. How did I not realize that before?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he murmured, his hand coming up to touch your face again, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.

The silence that followed was comfortable, full of unspoken promises. Your heart was still racing, but now it was accompanied by a strange and delicious sense of peace. When he smiled again, a small but genuine smile, you knew it wasn’t a passing thing.

“So,” he said, his voice a little lighter now, but still thick with emotion. “I guess this means I win, huh?”

You laughed, your fingers lightly brushing his neck. “Yeah, Dave. You win.”

“Does this mean I can do it again?” he asked, his eyes shining with a mix of insecurity and newfound boldness.

You didn’t respond with words. Instead, you pulled him in for another kiss, soft but full of a certainty that you were both discovering together.

And as the heat of the moment enveloped you once again, one thing became clear: this was just the beginning of many kisses and, who knows, of something much bigger that you both couldn’t wait to explore.

[queenofthekings]

𝖆𝖑𝖕𝖍𝖆 𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖌𝖆, 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖎 (𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊)

Summary: 25 years after a virus wipes out most of humanity, with the lucky ones dying and the rest are crazed and hungry, Lieutenant Eddie Munson is tasked to go into the Dead Zone to retrieve a shipment code named Babydoll; only it's not what he expects it to be and everything he thought he knew is about to change.

Author's note: I couldn't not write a zombie fic lmao. Also before anyone asks, no this fic was NOT inspired by The Last of Us and instead takes inspiration from The Girl With All the Gifts. So if I get any of yall in my ask box saying I "ripped off The Last of Us", get outta here. Also this will be told from a third person's perspective, sorry not sorry.

CW: 18+, swearing, sex references, Older!Eddie (mid 40s), Reader is mid 20s, mentions of character deaths, graphic depictions of zombies being zombies, no use of Y/N but Reader is referred to as "it", "Babydoll" and "Alpha", smut in later chapters.

Word count: 1.7k

Any hate will not be tolerated, constructive criticism is welcomed.

It had been twenty-five years since an infection so massive it spread across the world in a matter of days. The lucky ones died early on; the rest were left with an unsatiable hunger that could never be satisfied. Survivors were forced out of cities as the infected claimed them and thinking they would be safer in the countryside, but that safety didn’t last long as before they knew it, the infected found them.

Any attempt to keep the infected out failed, almost leading to the extinction of the human race. Their only salvation relied in General Martin Brenner who was successfully able to create a safe zone with all the power with what was left of the military. The base was eventually dubbed Hawkins, after Brenner’s hometown was completely ravaged by the infected.

Hawkins had been standing tall for almost twenty years now; surrounded by a minefield, barbed wire, and concrete walls – a warning to any infected to stay away. The base was more like a city than anything else; housing almost a thousand survivors comfortably with a cinema, endless stores and even a stadium on the grounds.

Who wouldn’t want to be there?

Well, Eddie Munson was one who didn’t. While everyone else was thankful for the safety Hawkins provided, he knew how Brenner ensured it. Every few months; a team would be sent into the Dead Zone, gather up a round of infected and bring them back to him for experimentation before extermination.

He’d spent so long in the Dead Zone, it felt more like home to him than Hawkins ever could. At least people in the Dead Zone were honest about wanting you dead, while in Hawkins, anyone could accuse you of stealing and get you taken away just because you looked at them funny.

Looking out of the window of the helicopter, seeing what once was the suburbs of a major city, now reclaimed by nature and the infected, he wondered if what they were doing had any real point at all. If they were really saving humanity, or simply delaying the inevitable. He even questioned if humanity was even worth saving; after all the terrible things they’d done to survive, did they even deserve it anymore?

The helicopter finally touched down in a clearing, with the entire team jumping out as quickly as possible to secure the area. The team was small, only comprising of ten people. Smaller was better, less noise and less opportunities of alerting the infected.

Eddie grabbed a map from his pack and checked it, looking at every crossed-out section before finding the red circle in the centre of a nearby city. “Babydoll was last seen somewhere in the city, approximately twenty klicks south.”

They’d been looking for Babydoll for the best part of a year, every team that was sent into the Dead Zone to find it never came back, and nobody ever truly figured out what had happened to them. Any attempts to find their bodies – infected or not – turned up nothing but blood trails that would lead to nowhere or ripped pieces of fabric from their clothes.

Despite multiple people telling Brenner to let it go and clearly Babydoll didn’t exist or didn’t want to be found, he refused. He was adamant to find it, and he didn’t care how many people had to die in order to get it.

Eddie only agreed to go if he knew exactly what they were supposed to be looking for and was given strict instructions not to tell the rest of his team. Keeping it a secret ate him up inside, he wanted to tell at least someone but the likelihood of not being believed always stopped him.

The only person he could’ve told was Steve, the only person from before who stuck by him, everyone else he knew had either left to go elsewhere or didn’t make it. They had each other’s backs, wherever one went, the other was sure to follow. But no matter how close they were, Eddie knew Steve wouldn’t fully understand how heavy his secret laid upon his heart.

The team moved quickly and quietly through the suburbs, being sure to have the silencers on their guns in case of trouble. Although, they knew the infected were more likely to be in city centre – they liked to be in groups.

The city didn’t look like a city anymore; leaves and flowers had sprouted all over the buildings and roads. There was a damp stench in the air, but nobody could work out where exactly it was coming from. Despite having potentially thousands of infected roaming the deserted streets, it almost felt peaceful to walk through. But Eddie knew he couldn’t let his guard down for a second, as peaceful and tranquil as everything seemed; the infected were still very much a threat.

It had been at least five years since Eddie had last been in the city, vowing to never return after the death of Dustin, someone who was like a brother to both him and Steve. His death was one of the main reasons why Eddie hated being in Hawkins; everything reminded him of Dustin.

But the only reason he volunteered to go into the city one last time was for the girl who tried to save Dustin. Eddie didn’t remember much of what she looked like back then, he only remembered her eyes being kind and calming as she tried to get Dustin away from the infected and save him, but when she realised she couldn’t, she stayed with both of them until Dustin died and made sure the infected didn’t take his body.

Then she was gone, and Eddie never even got her name.

But once Brenner got word of survivors living in the city, he instantly became obsessed. He found out quickly that the survivors weren’t like everyone else, they were the children of infected mothers and had been born as hybrids of humans and infected.

Ever since discovering them, he’d wanted one to dissect and see the inner workings of their bodies. They weren’t people to him; they were abominations and just part of the infected. And Babydoll was the ultimate prize.

From Eddie’s understanding, she was their leader – Brenner had done extensive research into her over the past half decade, giving her the nickname of Alpha. Admittedly, he was scared of her – not a lot scared him anymore but there was something about her unpredictability that absolutely terrified him to his core.

But he knew it was the same girl who’d tried to help Dustin, and he was forever thankful for that. He just didn’t quite know how to tell her that she was going to be killed at the hands of Brenner all in the name of science. No matter how many times Brenner or anyone else would refer to her as “it”, Eddie couldn’t bring himself to do it. What she had done for him was so human, he couldn’t ever see her as a monster.

Eddie was distracted with his thoughts for maybe a few moments until the cool barrel of a gun was pressed to the side of his head. Even without looking, he knew instantly who it was. “Clever girl,” he muttered.

The entire group aimed their guns directly at her head, with her being completely unphased and keeping her eyes locked on Eddie.

“Sir, do I kill it?” one of his team asked, his hands shaking while he held the gun. Eddie could tell that he didn’t want to shoot; the person in front of them looked too much like them to pass off as a nameless infected.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie looked at the person holding the gun. From what he could see, her right eye was completely grey with small purple-blue veins leading up her forehead and down her cheek, almost looking like scratches. There was no mistaking it, that was Alpha.

Shaking his head, Eddie slowly put his gun down onto the ground to have his hands on the back of his head in surrender. “Put your guns down, we do this their way.”

“Eddie-” Steve began, trying to stop him from putting the gun down.

“If you wanna get out of this alive, put your fucking gun down, Steve.”

She smirked as she watched both of them squabble like children, looking off to both sides of the street and nodding her head once, signalling for the rest of her people to come out of the shadows. Much to everyone’s horror, at least twenty people came out and surrounded them, taking their guns in the process.

“Why have you come?” she asked, slowly walking around to stand in front of Eddie, the gun still pressed to his head.

“There’s a shipment we need to retrieve, it’s somewhere inside the city. It’s codenamed Babydoll.”

She narrowed her eyes, letting out a small grunt as she lowered her gun. “I’ll take you to Babydoll.”

“You know where it is?” Steve asked, eyeing the gun in her hand as she placed it back into her holster.

She nodded. “You’re not the first to come looking for it. It’ll be sundown soon; you have to get inside. I’ll take you to Babydoll in the morning.”

“Stalling us?” Steve asked, hesitantly while raising an eyebrow.

She blinked slowly as if to say are you fucking kidding me. “I’m protecting you, idiot. Unless you want me to leave you out here to fight off every single infected by yourselves, I suggest you shut up and follow me.”

She didn’t wait to hear an answer and began walking away, her people pushing the team to follow her. Eddie took longer strides to keep up with her and walk beside her. “Why are you helping us?” he asked.

She didn’t look at him as the walked down the street. “Because I know you. Your friend died here, and I couldn’t help him.”

“Dustin. I remember you too, I’ve thought about that day and you ever since.”

She nodded once. “You’ve also shown me and my people a level of respect I didn’t think you people would have. You’re different, you didn’t shoot me even when you had the chance.”

“Neither did you.”

“Because I know I’m Babydoll. I know you’re here for me.”

[thatninjacat27]

DAY 22: CAN'T SCREAM

(god I hope this story goes with the prompt.)

This was inspired by HungryHero.EXE.

@sonicexelle-junkary is the creator of it and they let me write something inspired by it. Check their stuff out. It’s really cool.

Notes: Tails is the cannibal instead of Sonic.

Warnings: Cannibalism warning and maybe slightly out of character.(I tried my best though). Also not edited heavily.

(Link above and same stuff below like usual)

Sonic came home way earlier than he was supposed to. He had just been on Angel Island hanging out with Knuckles when Rouge came by and stole his echidna friend away on a date. Needless to say, he left because he wasn’t going to be the third wheel and felt slightly tired.

The blue hedgehog unlocked the door and entered inside. The house smelled funny like fresh blood. Sonic brushed it off. Tails had recently been craving more and more fresh meats and brought home a tons of it. Their freezer was stuffed to the brim with that stuff and they had to purchase a meat locker to keep the rest of the meats Tails had to keep from spoiling. The blue hedgehog let him as he was a growing fox and he needed the nutrients.

Sonic walked into the living room and found something unsettling. A much paler body that looked exactly like him at dead center of the room on a plastic tarp.

The blue hedgehog froze in shock. That could not be an actual body. There was just no way. It must have been a really terrible and cruel prank that someone thought would be real funny to do. Sonic wondered who would do that.

He ran up to the the body on the ground to confirm if this was really just a bad joke. The blue hedgehog did a once over. Whoever created this copy had all the details correct but a few things were off. The eyes looked glassy, the skin looked pale like death, and the fur looked a bit dull. Sonic lifted the arm to spot blood leaking out from underneath.

Disturbed by this revelation, the blue hedgehog looks for a pulse. He checks the first wrist. It didn’t have a pulse. He checks the second wrist. And it was the same case there. Sonic finally decided to check the neck, just in case. Nope, no pulse, and that meant he officially had a dead body in the house.

The question in his mind now became ‘What to do with said body?’. But before he could really think about it, The blue hedgehog heard the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching living room. Sonic threw himself to hide in the hallway where he came from. It was silent for a few minutes before he heard something.

From his hiding spot, Sonic could hear loud munching and slurping sounds. The blue hedgehog cursed his curiosity. After all, one peek could help him understand what is going on. So with a decision set, Sonic peeked and saw Tails kneeling over the body.

The stomach area of his unfortunate clone was cut open with all his intestines, stomach, bladder, bones, and all other organs in that section exposed. The knife used was set aside. It was the sharp, brand new, large kitchen knife that Tails had begged him to buy to “upgrade” his cooking since he was the chef of the house now. There was so much blood on the plastic sheet.

The fox looked like he was having the time of his life. He was digging into that corpse as if it was his last meal on Möbius, savoring ever last bite. An expression of pure delight was on his face as he feasted on different sections of the body.

Tails used the knife he set aside to cut up the more difficult and hard to get to places with meat. Soon it wasn’t recognizable anymore.

Watching this all happened was sickening and made the blue hedgehog feel queasy. He wanted to scream and shout right then and there. He wanted to get out of house and leave somewhere far away. But he couldn’t. Sonic’s legs were just not cooperating in the way he wanted and he couldn’t risk making any loud sounds for fear of alerting the fox about his presence.

The fox doing this could not be his brother. Tails would never do this. But if this was his brother, then it would explain some of the disappearances in the town.

Sonic couldn’t do anything at the moment however to prove this. His legs were planted firmly on the ground and would not budge. He waited in silence for about 30 minutes until Tails finished cleaning everything up. To Sonic’s surprise (somewhat), the fox was incredibly through with his cleaning. Clearly this was not the first time he had done this. So much for the benefit of the doubt

The blue hedgehog decided to make his presence known. Managing to move his legs for the first time in almost an hour, he went back to open the door and close it loudly in order to alert Tails. He hears Tails scramble around to put the supplies away.

After a few minutes, Sonic walks inside the living room. He walked not because he wanted to, but because he didn’t quite trust that his legs wouldn’t run the other way.

“Oh hi, Sonic!”, the fox exclaimed gleefully but nervous. He wipes his mouth but it still had some small meat bits and blood particles on the corners. “Didn’t expect you to be home so soon.”

“Yeah,”, Sonic eyes dart away to look anywhere but at Tails’s mouth. “Rouge came over and the visit was cut short. Then I decided to turn in early.”

Tails hummed thoughtfully to that. He tapped his chin and it highlighted more specks of blood residue. Seeing more of that made Sonic want to gag but he kept a blank face. “Makes sense with Rouge and Knuckles dating and all.”

The fox was interrupted by a loud crash coming from the kitchen area. Both of them turn in that direction. Sonic stares back at Tails but he doesn’t look back. The fox stares in that direction with a concentrated facial expression. Then he slowly faces back at Sonic.

“Hey,”, the fox said with a creepy smile. “Want to play a special game with me?”

“Hell no.”, Sonic replied immediately without thinking through what he said. Tails looked confused, slightly hurt, shocked at the quickness of the response.

“Oh. Okay.”, the fox’s ears and both tails dropped. “Sorry for asking.”

The look of hurt stabbed the blue hedgehog’s heart. Even if the fox was definitely a cannibal and a very plausible murderer, Sonic couldn’t help but feel bad for his actions even if they came from what little he had for his self preservation.

But despite the lack of better words to say, the blue hedgehog knew he was still right. First of all, there was no way he could play anything after what he saw Tails do to his clone(?) body. Second, this was most certainly felt like a set up to kill him. He hadn’t giving the fox enough time to clean up everything and he was willing to bet on Amy’s crush on him that parts of the corpse were stashed in the freezer.

Also there was just no way that Sonic was getting out of this ‘scot free’ if Tails’s “special game” might required him to go in that kitchen. Sonic needed to play up his obliviousness and some ignorance until he got more information to protect himself and understand the situation. For now, Tails was still his brother.

”No,”, Sonic sighed. “I’m sorry, Tails. I’m just very tired all of a sudden and want to hit the hay face first, you know.” He ruffled Tails’s hair. “I promise we’ll play some other time, okay?” The blue hedgehog then walked away in the direction of his bedroom. “Night, bro.”

“Night.”, Tails said reluctantly. The fox stared weirdly at Sonic and the blue hedgehog had to focus all of his energy to stay calm and not appear like he knew what the fox did. As soon as he entered his bedroom, Sonic doubled locked his door. Then he leaned back against the door frame with a sign of relief.

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Hope for the future" - Druig x Eternal!Reader

SUMMARY: When you decide to visit Druig in his little village after nearly 500 years, he asks you to stay with him. But there's something else on his mind, too...

A/N: inspired by 'Hope for the future' - Bastille. That shit always gets a tear out of me.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.3k

Five hundred years was, actually, quite a lot of time. Even for someone who was immortal. So much could happen! Entire generations die never knowing peace, while others are completely oblivious to the idea of war. It was enough time to change someone into a person you no longer recognize and that was possibly the scariest thought you had: after 500 years, is Druig the same man he was the last time you saw him?

To be honest, you were never planning on visiting him in his village. When he marched out of Tenochtitlan, it seemed pretty obvious that he wished to be left alone but everyone has to indulge in egoism once in a while, right? You had been bravely bearing the yearning you had for Druig but there came a moment when you started to feel physically sick because of it. So, truthfully, your visit was entirely a self-indulging endeavour: see him, quench your hopeless yearning and hopefully put up with your heartache for another five centuries. It was a little pathetic but still better than never getting to see him again.

In a way, Druig looked like a king in a castle. Although, "shepherd among his sheep" would be more accurate. He had created this undiscovered haven in an uncharted land and now he was just strolling through, beaming with pride and might. It was a beautiful paradox - the more he gave of himself to others, the more he became himself.

"My beautiful lady," he called out. There was that cocky smile he so often wore - something you found both endearing and annoying. "What brings you here?"

"Oh, you know, was in the neighbourhood and thought I'd pop in, say hi."

"And here I was beginning to think you have forgotten about me."

"I don't think I can."

Without waiting any longer, you engulfed him in a longing hug. His embrace was pleasantly tight as if he, too, missed having you around. Taking a deep breath, you noticed he now smelt of rain and ground cover. His skin was warmer than you remembered but it wasn't something bad; it reminded you of safety and comfort.

"It's good to see you, Druig," you quietly said.

"Of course it is," he answered. Then, to your utmost displeasure, Druig pulled away from the longing embrace. Jungle heat felt sadly cold for a moment. "Come, I'll show you around."

Druig lost sight of you when a group of teenage girls swarmed around you in curiosity. While fighting over who gets you to give you a quetchquemitl as a welcoming gift, the giggling mob pulled you away. No matter how much he wished to follow you, he knew better - there were still things he had to see through.

Noon was already approaching when Druig found you again, this time without the nosy kids. You were sitting on the porch stairs, next to a little girl, attempting weaving. It was hard to believe you hadn't been here even for a full day.

He just stood there, admiring how you blended right in like here was where you were always meant to be. Although Druig's judgement could hardly be trusted - he was terribly biased. Little Catalina was teaching you basket weaving and from what he could tell, you were doing quite well. The crafty tutoring was accompanied by Catalina's grandparents: Santiago and Blandine, who were sharing the most notable events from the village's life. Anytime Druig saw the elderly couple, a pang of jealousy struck his heart. How beautiful would it be to grow old with someone, even figuratively? To have someone who cared and understood despite everything? And how wonderful would it be to love someone so much?

Then Santiago must have said something funny because you suddenly erupted in laughter. Druig was certain he could never grow tired of that sight. The world seemed a little brighter, a little warmer, throughout the minute when you were laughing. But then sorrow and heartache took him over once again: soon enough, you were going to leave to go back to your own life. He had grown familiar with the lovesick loneliness that seemed to always follow him around. Only for that one morning, when he was watching you weave a basket, did that sorrow leave him for a moment. But then, when it came back to weigh on his shoulders, did Druig realize its heaviness. How did he even manage to breathe for the past 500 years?

He knew that if he was not going to do something about his heavy heart now, he might never have a second chance. Spend another five centuries without you? It was a thought too cruel to even entertain.

"Mind if I steal the lady?" he asked little Catalina.

With a bright smile that lacked a few front teeth, she shook her head and continued weaving. Blandine's old hand pulled the stray strands of the girl's hair behind her ears. Her little fingers weaved with impressive speed and precision.

"Don't finish without me!" you jokingly warned the girl before turning to Druig. He seemed... worried. "What's going on, Druig?"

"I need to talk with you."

Gently pulling your arm, Druig began walking towards the privacy of a jungle backcountry. Passing by various locals, they would only glance at the two of you and go back to whatever they were doing. It seemed as if you were the only one concerned with Druig's nervousness or worry.

He let go of your arm only when the thick rainforest swallowed any signs of human life. But why would he bring you in the middle of nowhere? However you thought about it, none of the answers was good: thick shrubbery was audience only to passionate violence and confessions of unhappy love.

"Something's happened?"

You couldn't help but worry about him. He was someone who could keep a secret but was never secretive per se.

"I've been meaning to ask you something," he confessed with a serious tone. Despite the weight of his statement, Druig's face remained unreadable.

"I'm all ears, whatever you need."

Looking for any microexpression, you closely watched his face but it stayed as expressionless as ever.

To your surprise, Druig placed his hands on the sides of your face and rested his forehead against yours. The two of you stood in pleasant, intimate silence for a moment. He let out a heavy, although shaky, breath before he whispered:

"You're the only thing I could think about for the past five centuries. I wrote your name down on the hillside in my mind." He made a pause to take another, shaky breath. "Stay here with me, please."

At first, you were questioning your sanity. Maybe five hundred years of pining after a man had left its mark on you. But it couldn't be that... If there was anything you could be sure of, it was his warm presence: his hands warming your cheeks and his hot breath brushing against your face. Has he really waited all of five hundred years to make that confession? Could all of your heartbreak have been prevented had he said those words a few centuries earlier?

"Why are asking me now?" you asked quietly. You could feel your throat clenching but it wasn't tears of sadness that threatened to run down your cheeks. "Why haven't you before?"

Druig's thoughts wandered back to Santiago and Blandine. Every day they sat on the porch, holding hands and looking after children whose parents were working. On the days when he couldn't get your name off his lips, Druig wondered if he could ever have something like that: you and him, holding hands and watching children grow up - your children.

"Hope for the future got me on my knees."

Then you felt his lips move against yours. There was a certain desperation in his affection as if he expected the world to end in the next few minutes. Without needless reasoning, you kissed him back. Your hands clenched the material of his sleeveless shirt making sure he won't pull away any time soon.

There was no course of history in which you could reject his offer.

_____

TAGLIST: @igotanidea

[angelasscribbles]

Bad Romance Chapter 16: Mile High

Series: Bad Romance

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for series: Multiple

Paring this chapter: Riley x Drake

Rating: NSFW 🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋

Song Inspiration: Simply Irresistible by Robert Palmer

Word Count: 3,755

A/N: Some of you asked what the hell happened on that plane on the ride over? Here's the answer.

A/N2: Ya'll just pretend that chair in the picture is an airplane seat lol

A/N3: The more this story evolves, the less I'm convinced that Riley's such a bad person after all. 🤷‍♀️

Warnings for this chapter: NSFW

General blanket warning for series: Smutty, Lemony, Awful, Toxic Relationships with lots of cheating. This is a hot mess express; no one is happy, everyone is in love with the wrong person, every relationship depicted herein is generally and massively fucked up. You’ve been warned.

My other stuff: Master List.

Six months earlier….

“Wow, this is pretty swanky, I’ve never been on a private jet before.” Riley glanced around, taking it all it.

“What the hell?” The grumpy but hot guy from last night stood as they entered the main seating area of the jet. “Max, what the fuck?”

“Oh yeah, I invited Riley to come back to Cordonia with us!”

“Why?”

“Because I saw the connection she had with Liam last night and I want House Beaumont to sponsor her in the social season!”

“I-what-are you fucking stupid?” Connection? One night stand was more like it. Why the hell would he drag her back home with them?

“I think she has a real chance, Drake. She’s beautiful and funny and smart, why wouldn’t Liam fall in love with her?”

Drake stared at Max in disbelief. From the look on Max’s face as he gazed at her, he was the one in love. Oh yeah, no, he didn’t invite her back for Liam, he invited her back for himself. Drake shook his head. Whatever. “This is a bad idea.” He asserted. His gaze slid over to her. She was wearing a pair of skintight, stone washed jeans with those purposeful rips and a black tank top that showed off her curves almost as well as that fucking green dress had the night before and he felt his dick twitch. Shit. Well, maybe if Liam wasn’t interested… Surely she wasn’t interested in Max, right?

“Are you always such a kill joy?” She asked him.

“What? I’m not!”

“Ok, whatever you say.” She rolled her eyes as she and Max burst into laughter.

Riley followed Max to the seating across the aisle from Drake and dropped into the seat next to him. “So, tell me more about this social season. What do I have to do?”

“Just be yourself, because you’re amazing and everyone will see it.” Max told her.

“That’s terrible advice!” Drake interrupted, “You have to know how to dance, and I don’t mean the shit you do in nightclubs in New York, you have to know which one of fifty million spoons to use for what, proper forms of address, court protocols-“

“Oh, she’ll be fine. I told you, she’s smart, she’ll pick up on everything.”

Drake shook his head, “That’s not….she…you can’t just-“

Riley leaned into the aisle to smirk at him, “If you’re so worried about it, why don’t you teach me all the stuff I’ll need to know?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you, why not?”

“I’m not…I don’t….that’s….”

“Drake hates all the court stuff. He prefers to keep to himself.” Max explained.

Riley shrugged, “Ok.” She turned her attention back to Max.

“That’s not what I- you know what? Forget it.” He put his headphones on and cued up a movie.

He shot a glance over at them, they were too busy talking and laughing to notice him. She was far too excited and happy. She was going to be destroyed at court. Not his problem. He turned the volume up.

The next time he looked over, they were gone. He pulled the headphones off as his head swiveled around the plane trying to figure out where they had gone. He got up to look for them. He followed the sound of her giggling. When he found them, they were in the hallway outside the bedrooms. She was leaning against the wall looking up at Max who was resting his weight on one arm that was propped on the wall behind her, leaning down and in like he was about the kiss her.

“What the fuck are you doing Beaumont?”

Max spun around with a guilty look on his face and flushed, “Nothing! Just giving Riley here a tour of the plane.”

“Uh huh. Shouldn’t you two get back to the cabin? It’s almost time for lunch.”

“Uh, yeah, right.” Max pulled away from her reluctantly and he didn’t make eye contact with Drake as he walked past him back toward the seating area.

Riley, on the other hand, made direct eye contact as she passed him. She managed to brush up against him on her way by, giving him a teasing grin, “Jealous?”

“What? No! Get over yourself.” He said derisively, his eyes falling to her ass as she sashayed past him. He followed her back to the main cabin, his eyes glued to her back side.

She stopped halfway back to her seat and glanced over her shoulder. He jerked his head up to meet her eyes and flushed as he realized she’d caught him. When she made it to her seat, she turned and gave him a smug smile as she lowered herself into it.

He dropped his eyes to the floor as he walked past her. He glared at Max who was pretending to read a magazine, but kept peeking over at Riley. Fuck, this was going to be a long plane ride.

“Wow, this is the best airplane food I’ve ever had!” She exclaimed when lunch was finally served.

“This? It’s ok.” Max told her, “Just wait until you taste palace food!”

Drake rolled his eyes, “Yeah, because that’s what you should be focusing on.”

“I’m sorry. What should I be focusing on?” Her eyes raked over him so blatantly that he forgot to answer her.

“Damn Drake. I’ve never seen you speechless before. What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” Max laughed.

“Shut the fuck up Beaumont, no one was talking to you!”

“Actually, I was talking to him. Before you interrupted.” She turned back toward Max, “Is he always this rude?”

“Pretty much.”

“I’m not rude! I was just saying-you know what? Forget it. Forget I said anything. Don’t listen to me. You’ll find out the hard way when you get there.” He returned his attention to his food.

Riley and Max continued to chat and laugh as they ate. Drake kept sneaking glances at her. She was very different from any of the women at court. Or any woman not at court. She was just different from anyone he’d ever met. She was physically his exact type. Her attitude was something beyond ordinary sass, he had no idea how to take it, how to take her.

What he did know was that she was on her way to Cordonia for Liam. His best friend. Who had definitely had sex with her last night. Right. Off limits.

The sound of her laughter drew his attention again. Her head was tipped back, a look of real, unadorned joy on her face as she delighted in whatever Max had just said and his breath caught in his throat. He thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her long auburn locks cascaded down her back, red and gold highlights sparkling where the sun hit it streaking the deep brown. Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink as she laughed, her full, lush lips parted making him imagine what they’d feel like against his own.

He’d been interested in her last night, but he hadn’t been able to pry her away from Liam. And he’d technically been on duty. So he’d had to watch Liam fawn all over her all night. And now Max.

Max leaned toward her with a smile and added to whatever anecdote he’d just told her. Her chest heaved with more laughter drawing his attention to it and his eyes fell down her body. The curve of her breast, her hips, that ass, those legs……

He realized he was staring and jerked his gaze back to her face. Thank fuck she hadn’t noticed this time. He pulled his attention away from her with effort and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His dick was hard just from looking at her. What the hell? It’s just because he hadn’t had sex in a few days, he told himself.

But he knew that wasn’t it. He’d gone without sex before. He’d had dry spells, just like anyone else. There was something drawing him to this girl, a heat that radiated off of her, a magnetic force pulling him toward her. It was like someone had cast a spell over him. He wanted to touch her so bad it made him ache. What the hell was that about?

He shook his head to clear it. No, nope, that’s not happening. There was no way in hell he was letting this girl get under his skin.

He finished his meal, asked a glass of Macallan and put the headphones back on. He didn’t care that it was just lunchtime. He had nothing else to do but drink. He thought the alcohol would dull the sting of unrequited desire. Dull the sensations she caused in him just by existing.

Somehow he managed to fall asleep. Probably a combination of the late night, early morning wake up call, boredom and whiskey.

It took him a minute to realize what had woken him up. It was the lack of noise. The movie he’d been watching had ended. He sat up, pulled the headphones off and rubbed his eyes. It was still quiet. He glanced over to the other side of the cabin. They weren’t there. He felt annoyance swirl through him. Where the fuck had they gone? Why the fuck did he care?

He stood, stretched and went to relive himself. When he walked out of the bathroom, he collided with her.

“Whoa there! Watch where you’re going!” He snapped as he caught her in his arms.

She looked up into his face but made no move to extricate herself from his embrace. “How was I supposed to know the door was about to open?”

“I don’t know. Maybe pay attention?” He snarled at her while continuing to hold her in his arms. He became excruciatingly aware of just how close their bodies were pressed together. His earlier problem returned with a vengeance.

She smiled at him as she responded, “Because I can see through doors. You’re really not very bright, are you?”

“What?”

“Bright. It means smart.”

“I know what bright means.” He growled in frustration.

“Sure you do. You know, you can let go of me now.”

He dropped his grip on her and stepped back like he’d been scalded, “Like I want to be touching you.”

“Don’t you though?”

“What? No!”

He could only blame jet lag and whiskey for what happened next. Clearly his reaction time had been impaired by those things, it was the only explanation for why he didn’t see her hand move until it was too late.

Her open palm touched him through his pants and slid up his hardened length. “Your little friend here says different.”

By the time his hand circled her wrist, she had already felt everything. Instead of intercepting it, he ended up actually pressing her hand into his crotch.

“Oh, you like that!” She smirked at him as she gave him a little squeeze.

“No!” He pushed her hand away as a flush crept up his neck. He spun and made his way back to his seat muttering under his breath the whole time.

She followed him back down the aisle and dropped into the seat next to him.

He glared at her, “Why are you over here? Why aren’t you over there with Max? Where is Max anyway?”

“Asleep.”

“Asleep?”

“Yes, asleep. You know, when you close your eyes and dream?”

“Would you quit insinuating that I’m stupid, please?”

“Why? Does it hurt your feelings? Oh, I’m sorry. Are you sensitive about it?”

“Ha ha ha. You’ve been hanging out with Maxwell all day and you think I’m stupid?”

Her eyes widened, “You think you’re smarter than Max?”

He turned his entire body toward her in shock, “You think I’m not?!”

“Listen, don’t worry about it. You’re cute so you don’t have to be that smart.”

He shook his head, “How would you even know? You’ve done nothing but ignore me or make fun of me since we met!”

“Oh, now I get it.” She nodded her head in understanding, “That’s why you’ve been so damn snarky and mean. Your feelings are hurt because you’re not getting enough of my attention.”

“No, that’s not-“

She leaned in and smiled at him, “You like me!”

“I most definitely do not like you.”

“Is that why you keep staring at my ass? Because you don’t like me? Do you always ogle girls that you don’t like? Are you a creep?”

“I….”

She arched an eyebrow at him, “Well?”

“Believe what you want. Why do you care? You’ve got Max to entertain you.”

“Oh, someone’s jealous!” She sounded positively delighted.

“I am not.”

“Whatever you say.”

“But just out of curiosity, how did Max end up asleep in one of the bedrooms? Did you two…I mean… were you….did you….”

She gave him a look full of feigned innocence, “Did we what?”

“You know…”

Her expression changed to feigned confusion, “Know what?”

“Did you two do….you know….it….”

She rolled her eyes, “It? Wow. What are you, twelve?”

“I was trying not be crass.”

“So, you care about offending my delicate sensibilities? See? You do like me!”

He fought back a smile and shook his head. “So… did you?”

“Well, one of us did.”

Drake blinked, “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means someone was a little quick on the draw.”

“Oh…. OH! So let me get this straight. Squid boy in there shot his load prematurely then fell asleep without finishing the job? Ha! Stellar choice you made there. Next time find a man who can take care of business.”

“Like you?”

“What?”

“You look….capable.” She purred as her fingernails lightly scraped the side of his neck.

He shivered but shook his head, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not? You look ready to me.” She shot a meaningful look to his lap.

“I….uh….” He used his hand to adjust himself. There was no use lying about it, not only was it clearly visible, but she’d already felt it. And he was rock hard. He wanted her to touch it again, but he was not going to admit that.

She took his hand in hers and placed it on her chest. He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes. Damn it, damn it, damn it! He knew he shouldn’t be doing that. He was going to remove his hand, he was. But what was the rush? It’s not like he could untouch it. What difference would a few more seconds make? His hand rubbed across her pert breast then he pinched a stiffened nipple between two fingers as he fought to repress the moan trying to escape his throat.

She pushed herself out of her seat and into his lap, straddling him as she leaned forward and brought her lips down to his.

His hands gripped her hips as he looked up at her. Her legs were on either side of him, her body was touching his seemingly everywhere, her hair fell across them both, her scent overwhelmed his senses and the heat between them seemed to intensify by the moment. He really didn’t mean to, but his hands slid from her hips around to rub her ass as he leaned up to meet her lips.

Her hands were on his face as she pulled him forward into the kiss. An explosion of warmth started where their lips met and spiraled out from there, sending waves of heat crashing through him. The sheer force of the hunger that surged through him was shocking. He wanted to devour this girl, inhale her, sink himself into her and stay there. Alcohol and lust clouded his mind and all his earlier inhibitions just slipped away as the need to possess her consumed him.

His hands went to work exploring every inch of her body as their kisses became more ferocious. He pulled her shirt off, already knowing there was nothing underneath it and his mouth finally released hers so that it could taste her skin, salty and sweet and maddening.

When she pulled at his shirt, he released her momentarily to rip it off himself. He was heedless to the fact that either Max or the flight attendant could walk in at any time. All he could think about was feeling her from the inside. His lips found hers again as she ground herself into him. He nearly shot up out of his seat.

“Fuck! Don’t do that, not yet!” He panted, sudden sympathy for Maxwell washing over him. He was in danger of doing the same damn thing.

He shoved her out of his lap and frantically tugged her pants down. She shimmied out of them then dropped to her knees and helped him out of his.

He grabbed her head before she could get it near his dick and shook his head, “No. That’s a really bad idea unless you just like being disappointed.”

He pulled her back into his lap, he was already hard, throbbing and dripping with precum. She slid herself onto him, but she stopped with just the tip in. His eyes snapped up to hers, “Why are you stopping?”

She leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, to whisper, “I’m not stopping. I’m just teasing you a little.”

His body shuddered and his fingers dug into her as he struggled to control his breathing. “Please don’t. I’m serious, I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.”

She moved down a little then back up and stopped again.

“Fuuuuuck!” His fingers dug in even deeper.

Then she slammed herself down onto him and ground herself against him. He closed his eyes and willed himself to think about something else, anything else as she rocked herself against him and her teeth sank into his shoulder.

When she pushed against him and cried out, he gave in and started thrusting up into her vigorously, his motions frenetic and desperate. He exploded inside her, his body jerking forward as an involuntary groan was ripped from him. He collapsed back against the seat, breathing jagged and uneven.

“Fuck. Me.” He breathed out.

She grinned down at him, “Oh, I think I just did!” Then she scooted off his lap and started gathering up her clothes.

His arms reached out to pull her back, but she was already out of his reach. “Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom to get cleaned up, duh.” She told him as she pulled her shirt back on.

“Ok.” He said stupidly. Ok? What the hell was that? He just kept making an idiot out of himself in front of her. And since when did he give a fuck if the woman got up and left afterwards? That was generally the goal. He didn’t care, he told himself.

But he did. He felt a pang of something he couldn’t quite define as she walked away from him. The further away she got, the more he wanted to call her back. Or get up and follow her. No, nope, he was most certainly not going to do that. Instead, he forced himself to look away and find his own clothes.

At least he’d gotten that out of his system, he thought as he quickly redressed. Except that he hadn’t. Somehow, what had just happened hadn’t cooled his desire for her at all. Instead, it had intensified it. He was already at half-mast again as he watched her walk back up the aisle toward him. Well, shit. This was going to be a problem.

He stood in the middle of the aisle and watched her as she walked back, an intensity to his gaze that made her shiver.

“What?” She asked stopping in front of him.

“What the hell did you do to me, Peitho?”

She tipped her head, “What’s a peitho?”

“The Greek goddess of seduction.”

She rewarded him with that smile that he was sure would haunt his dreams, “You think I’m a goddess?”

He smirked, “That, or a witch.”

“I’ve been called worse.” She moved in closer, running both hands up his chest, “Maybe I cast a spell on you.”

Heat flared behind his eyes, “You definitely cast a spell on me, but you know we can’t do this, right?” He wanted her again, already.

“What? The thing we already did?”

“Fair point. But once we land in Cordonia, you’re off limits. Royal suitor, competing to marry my best friend and all that…”

“That is such a weird and kinda gross concept to be honest.”

“What do you mean?” “I mean…there’s going to be like thirty women there and he can only pick one, but until he does, he what, owns them all? They aren’t allowed to do the same damn thing he’s doing and explore all their options?”

“When you put it like that….but yeah, that’s just the way it’s always been.”

“Sounds stupid.”

“Well, most of these women would do anything to become queen so no one is complaining. Except you.”

“I don’t care about being queen and let’s face it, the odds of me being picked, all things considered, are almost zero.”

“That’s true.”

“Yet you’re still going to insist on depriving us both of exploring this insane physical connection that we clearly both just felt?”

He went completely still as he digested the fact that whatever crazy attraction was pulling him towards her, she felt it too. Several emotions hit him simultaneously. Relief that he wasn’t the only one feeling it, desire and a stupid little flare of happiness at the thought that she wanted him too, frustration at the situation that he knew would keep it from happening again and a small stab of resentment that he couldn’t just claim her right then and there. All of it was laced through with a fair amount of despair as he realized that knowing she felt the same way was going to make it that much harder to keep his distance from her.

“He’s my best friend and obviously likes you so until I know for sure he’s not going to pick you, yeah. So, like I said, once we land in Cordonia, all that kicks in and you’re off limits.” He reached for her and pulled her body into his, heat flaring through him everywhere they touched, “But we have five more hours before we’re in Cordonia. Can we agree that whatever happens on this plane doesn’t count?”

“Deal.”

“Perfect.” He lowered his mouth to her ear, “Let’s go find an empty room, I have new ideas.”

[celestialrry]

I wish you would write a fic where...

the main character is the daughter of a really important producer harry is working with and he has a major crush on her but 1) he doesn’t want her dad to feel like he’s taking advantage of her 2) she has a rule of not dating musicians

too young

OOOOOOHHHHHH

HIIII GUYS..... i started school again and honestly for the longest time i've had no inspiration to write but then i got this ask!!! (thank you for your patience anon ily) and was like i love this prompt but then i wrote the first part and had no idea how to continue it,,, but I finally finished it!! ε(♡'-')з (this is me giving you all my love and affection for sticking with me) 

(NOT EDITED)

2k

warnings: alcohol consumption

Harry was in a dilemma.

Usually, he could sweep all his issues under the rug, save them for another day, but this one... he couldn't do that. Not because he didn't want to, but because this problem was more than just a dust bunny on his hardwood floor.

Y/N was the problem.

Or to be more precise, his feelings for Y/N were the problem.

Harry had confidence when it came to his crushes. He was smooth, flirty, and snagged almost every single person he's caught feelings for.

But not Y/N.

No, she was almost unreachable, for quite a few reasons.

One, the only reason he knew her, met her, was through a producer he had been working with the past few months. Arlo was massive in the industry and Harry was flattered when Arlo approached him with interest in collaborating. And only a month into working together, he met Y/N.

Harry's head snapped towards the door that had just burst open, a girl barging into the studio that he had never seen before. She was gorgeous, he had to admit, but he couldn't ignore her blatant disrespect for coming in and making a scene while he, Arlo, and a few of his bandmates were working annoyed him to no end.

"Dad! Oh my god, you will not believe what just happened, I was on my way over here and I fucking bumped into Zach," The girl began ranting, approaching Arlo and huffing as she stood next to Arlo's chair. "Of all fucking people I could see just walking down the street, it had to be him. The world is against me today I swear. Anyways, I brought that drum pad you wanted."

She dug into her big brown bag that was slung over her shoulder and pulled out the music board, placing it on the table in front of Arlo.

"Where'd you see him, Y/N? We're about to go on break and I can leave and go kick his ass in," Arlo checked his watch. "7 minutes."

Y/N, Harry now knew her as, sighed and crossed her arms. "He's long gone by now, think he shit his pants when he saw me walking near him."

"Atta girl, thanks for bringing my board too," Arlo smiled up at her from his chair. He then turned to see Harry, and Mitch staring at the two of them. "Oh sorry guys, this is my daughter, Y/N. Y/N, this is Harry and Mitch."

She turned to look at them and smiled wide. "Nice to meet you!"

"You too." They both said in unison, looking at each other with a smile, before focusing back on Y/N.

"We'll be done soon, if you wanna go out and get lunch." Arlo said, turning back to his daughter.

"Sounds good, just text me," Y/N replied, giving him a smile before turning back to the boys. "Nice meeting you guys, again."

And before they could even respond she was gone.

Two, Y/N was younger than him. 6 years younger to be exact. It didn't seem like much, but when put into perspective, she was 21, only just being legally allowed to drink in the States, and Harry was 27. Practically 30, if you ask him, and he was positive Arlo would have his head if he found out Harry liked his daughter. 

And three, she doesn't date the people her dad works with. 

He had found this out one night when he, Arlo, Y/N, Mitch, and a couple other writers were hanging out at the studio, drinking some wine (she had even exclaimed that this would be her first time drinking red, and Harry was yet again reminded of her age) and chatting after a long day of working. 

Harry and Mitch were laughing with Arlo about the first time they met Y/N, and her comments about this “Zach” guy. 

“He’s my ex, and had worked with my dad on one shitty song that never got far because he’s just so-- music is just not his thing, to put it nicely. But he was an absolute asshole and after him I made rule to never date anyone Dad works with. It would just go terribly.” She explained, letting Arlo take a few more jabs at the guy before stopping him.

So yeah, Harry was in a dilemma. 

In all the time he’d known Y/N, he just kept falling for her. She was kind, funny, beautiful, lit up any room she walked into, and treated Harry like fine porcelain. 

She was just fucking perfect. 

｡:°ஐ

Y/N had probably been in a lot of worse positions than the predicament she was in now.

For example, that time her dad walked in on her and her ex making out in the studio, or her 21st birthday when she got completely wasted and almost got into the wrong car instead of her uber, and the next day found out that the man driving that car was actually a convicted criminal.

So there’s worse things that could happen than her liking Harry.

But it doesn't mean it wasn’t bad.

The thing is, Y/N didn’t fall for anyone easily. Her one and only ex Zach treated her like a queen until he could officially claim her as his. The flowers he gave her before every date remained at the shop and the consistent compliments turned into insults and muttered claims of discontentment. 

Hence why he was her ex. It took Y/N quite a long time to work up the courage to end things with him. He was her first kiss, first time, and first boyfriend. She was yet to find her first love, she never really loved Zach. The way he used to treat her in the beginning, she thinks she loved, but him? No, she would never call him her first love. 

So when Y/N’s time crush on Harry began to develop into real feelings in such a short span of time, it terrified her. She had really never felt this way about someone before; butterflies would erupt in her stomach every time he shot her a smile and her mind would erupt into pure chaos when his body brushed up against her own. 

So yeah, it could be worse, but it certainly wasn't good.

｡:°ஐ

Y/N enjoyed spending time at the studio with her dad, and surprisingly, spending time with her dad’s “co-workers”. Even though she didn't usually hang out with the pop stars and spent time mostly with the backing band/producers (they were usually 50 year old men, but they were pretty nice) she enjoyed herself fully, having lunch breaks and talking about where their children when to school and whatnot. 

Sometimes though, every blue moon, Y/N would hang out with a super star her dad was working with. Usually when most stars are at the studio all they did was record, which was understandable, but she never had the chance to meet a lot of them.

With Harry though, everything was different. It wasn’t just lunches at the studio, or dinner at someone’s house, no, tonight they were going out to a bar. 

It was completely unexpected too, they had just wrapped up a song, and Harry, being in a particularly good mood had yelled out about going to a bar to celebrate. Of course, Y/N ignored his shout, knowing she wasn’t invited, and after Arlo had said something about “not being able to party as much as I used to”, she gave her dad a hug good night and waved a little goodbye to the band. 

“Wait!” Harry had exclaimed, chasing after her in the hallway. “Where are y’going?”

Y/N’s eyes widened and she looked behind her before looking back at Harry. “I was just gonna head back home.”

Harry’s head tilted, and looked at her questionably. “Y’not comin’ to the bar with us?” He practically pouted.

Her brows shot up in surprise. “Oh! I- yeah I’ll go out with you guys.”

Which lead her here, decently tipsy, and sitting in a booth between Harry and Sarah, laughing at a story Adam had been telling. Every now and then she would glance over to Harry just to find his gaze already on her.

Her heart fluttered every time, and if Harry’s cheeks weren’t already flushed from the alcohol, Y/N would have noticed him blush every time they locked eyes as well. 

“M’gonna get another drink, does anyone want anything?” Y/N piped up, a resounding chorus of “no, thank you’s” answering her question. Except for Harry who spoke softly, “A beer? Go ahead and put it on my tab.”

She shook her head at him as he stood up to let her out of the maroon leather booth. “Can’t make you pay for that, I offered.” She said, standing to lock eyes with him yet again. 

“Nope,” He grinned. “You can, and you will.”

“But-”

“No buts.” He chuckled, giving her a dimpled smile.

Accepting her defeat she nodded and squeezed his arm with a murmured “Thank you.” before making her way to the bar.

Harry sat back down again, eyes trailing her figure as she walked away before looking back at the table to be met with knowing eyes. 

“What is it?” He asked, glancing around at everyone.

“You’re whipped, mate.” Charlotte grinned, everyone else nodding in agreement.

“What?! I am not.” Harry pouted, eyes flicking over to Y/N, who was making her way to the table, one drink in each hand, before back to everyone else. 

“She’s really sweet H, you should go for it.” Mitch said.

Harry shook his head, eyes now on Mitch. “I’m not interested in her like that, she’s way too young for me, anyways.”

Just then did he hear the soft hit of his beer and her cosmo land on the table. His gaze trailed up her hands to see Y/N’s shattered face. “Here.” She practically whispered to him.

“I just remembered I have an early class tomorrow, so I should go, but thank you guys for inviting me out.” Y/N explained in lighting speed as she leaned over Harry to grab her purse and toss is over her shoulder. 

Words of confusion were tossed around the table but she was already booking it out of there, leaving Harry just as devastated as she was.

“I think she heard you, H.” Sarah said, frowning. 

Harry let out a muttered “Fuck!” before taking out large bills from his wallet and tossing it on the table. “For my tab, m’sorry, I gotta go.” And he left just as fast as Y/N did, weaving through the tables and people before bursting out the door to see her standing on the street, arm wrapped around her waist and another holding her phone.

“Y/N!”

Her head whipped around to see Harry bustling towards her and she quickly wiped her eye as he approached.

“Wait, don't go,” He said, struggling to find the words. “We all want you to stay, I want you to stay.”

“I have to get to class Harry, plus, I’m too young to be staying out this late anyways.” She grimaced at her own words. 

He sighed, eyes flickering from her own to her lips then back again. “I-fuck, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

This time, she fully turned to face him, brows knitted in distress. “Then how did you mean it? Because honestly I don’t think there is another way to mean it.”

This was his only chance, Harry knew it. 

“I just, I tried for so long to tell myself it was wrong to feel this way about you because you’re so much younger than me, and m’pretty sure your father would have my head if he knew but m’fucking infatuated with you, Y/N. M’so sorry I said that earlier, age is my only excuse for not asking you out and it’s not a good enough excuse anymore.”

With this her mouth was gaped like a fish, and her face was akin to a deer caught in headlights. In a flash her arms were wrapped around his neck and he was holding her waist, reveling in her touch. 

“Oh, Harry,” She pulled away. “I really like you too.” And with that she pressed a swift kiss to his cheek, leaving him a blushing mess. 

“Good, thats... thats good.” He stammered.

“So,” she nudged his arm. “Y’gonna ask me out now?”

[carateum]

hi bubs!! #5 and #34 from the prompt list for joshua (seventeen) :-D

You always made the things worst

Joshua x reader

Prompt : "Your hands are so tiny..." and "I don't hate you... I'm sorry"

Type : co-worker Joshua x reader ,angst and fluff ig

Warnings : swearing, Joshua is dumb, bad English.

Notes : Sorry it's really bad but I was not really inspired

Word count 535

Story under the cut

He didn't mean to see you crying ,he wasn't supposed to be here ,he was just at the wrong time in the wrong place or maybe he just heard you sobbing. You also absolutely didn't want him to see you ,that's why you were hidden in the big closet of your office.

Why were you crying? It may sound childish but it was because of him , Joshua ,your co-worker. He was always pointing out your mistakes ,teasing you in front of your boss and the others co-workers and you honestly never found it funny it just hurts your feelings. But this day ,you were just terribly tired of his little game and you weren't in the mood because you'd got some really bad news,so ,when he made fun of you this morning you just felt like crying. That's why you isolated yourself in the closet ,you just didn't want your co worker to see you (especially Joshua because he'll probably tease you). But he was here ,staring at your tiny figure.

"Y/n ? Are you okay?" His soft voice asked as he went closer to you. "Oh no..."you whined as you saw him ,he's the last person you wanted to see. You hide your face in your hands before Joshua's hand reached yours ,making them leave your face while his thumb gently caressed your cheek "W-What are you d-doing here Joshua ?" You stuttered ,your eyes looking everywhere except his, too shy to make an eye contact. "It doesn't matter Y/n , I just want to know if you are ok" Joshua spoke ,his warm hand still on your cheek ,lovingly stroking it. "I've got bad news that's all..."you lied ,you almost liked his touch ,he was soft.

"Tell me the truth" his charming voice said ,his thumb that was on the curve of your cheek moved to your jaw ,his touch still soft "Why do you care huh...I mean you hate me so why are you here ?" You muttered ,still not daring looking at his eyes "You think I hate you?" He raised one of his eyebrows.

"Come on Joshua ...You're always so mean with me ,and now it's enough, I already had a rough day and you didn't fix things ,you always make the things worst" you blurted, grabbing his hand that was on your jaw and pushed him away but obviously, he didn't let you alone ,he stayed. "I'm just teasing you Y/n...I don't hate you ,I'm sorry " He hugged your tiny body closer ,you wanted to push him away , but you also wanted to keep him close to you ,his touch was soft and comforting.

"Accept my apologies Y/n...I swear to God I didn't mean anything I said ,I just played around..." he whispered, squeezing your body even tighter. After the hug ,he held your hand in his ,gently caressing the back of it "Joshua...I can't just forget what you did to me" you said ,for the first time ,you dared looking at him in the eyes. "I understand that..And I'll respect your choices" he said ,looking at your intertwined fingers "Your hands are so tiny...you are so tiny" he smiled ,staring at you lovingly.

Is that strange if ...for once you felt loved?

[giorno-plays-piano]

Abominable Part 1

Pairing: mage!Peter Parker x mage!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, murders, possible gore in the future chapters, pretty dark story overall.

Words: 1543

Summary: An investigator of the Mage's Association, you are sent to discover the mystery behind a series of murders before more sinister events take place.

P.S. This was inspired by The Garden of Sinners particularly. I loved it dearly when I was a teenager.

To avoid any confusion, the reader is neither good nor bad due to the nature of her profession. Peter is an adult.

____________

Stepping on a platform with a vintage Samsonite briefcase in your hand, you looked at the people standing aside, most of them waiting for other passengers to leave the train. Although you knew the face of a magus who was supposed to meet you, it was hard to recognize him in the crowd, and you stared at all those people in front of you, clenching the briefcase’s handle. You hated waiting.

Of course, Lord Pierce wasn’t too happy with your arrival: the old fool thought he was untouchable even after a series of murders and an unnatural magic activity in Tombra that got the Mage's Association alarmed. You remembered the revulsion in Mr. Stark’s voice when he talked of Alexander. The old aristocracy, Lord Pierce was an outstanding magus who had long abandoned practicing any decent magic and instead preferred to exploit the strength of his numerous successors. While he still had some friends in the Association, Stark hated him greatly and was happy to remind him who was in control.

Naturally, Pierce knew why you came to Tombra, and the conversation between you two didn’t go well. You didn’t hide your intentions: you were the Investigator of the Clock Tower, and your job was to figure out what was happening in that megalopolis where Lord Pierce resided proudly. It meant you were going to be a great disturbance and a possible danger to many aristocratic families under Alexander’s protection. 

It wasn’t surprising he chose the most useless assistant to help you find out the truth. His name was Peter Parker, and he was class D+ magus who attended neither Clock Tower nor Atlas Academy. His role was to slow you down, you thought and sighed. 

Suddenly, you saw a familiar face when a young man hurried to you, his cheeks red, sweat running down his face: apparently, he was late. You snickered, looking at his formal attire - his black tie was so long as if he stole it from his father.

Once he was close enough, the young man stood tall, at attention, waiting for you to say something as he stared at you with awe and horror.

“Lady Ragna of the Clock Tower,” you named your rank coldly, and your companion nervously bit his lower lip, acting exactly how you expected of him.

“Peter of Tombra! Pleased to make your acquaintance!” He sounded too excited, and his hands were trembling a little, although he tried hiding it.

Gods, what was he good for in a situation like this, unless he possessed some extraordinary powers not stated in his file? Well, now was the time to discover that, you thought as you narrowed your eyes at the young man.

"Your primary magecraft?"

"B-bounded fields and healing!"

Nothing spectacular there, but bounded fields could be of use to you if you would ever be attacked while performing magic.

"Elements?"

"Water and wind!"

This was better: magi controlling more than one element were still rare, and the boy could make a nice apprentice if he were to be send to the Clock Tower. Besides, with Tombra surrounded by a river, a liquid manipulation skill Peter definitely possessed could be valuable, too.

"Magic circuit composition?"

"N-normal?"

"Any familiars?"

"None."

He was clearly feeling like a mouse in front of a snake, his face getting even more red with every second, and you found the situation rather funny.

"Your motto?" You stared him dead in the eye.

For a second Peter looked horrified, his mouth slightly open as if he were to say something, but you heard no sound coming from him. Then, as if struck by lightning, he gibbered with fear, "Live p-proudly?"

Oh boy. He really thought you were being serious when you talked rubbish with a stony face. If anybody was to talk about a personal motto, even the most pretentious magi of the Clock Tower would burst out laughing.

Rolling your eyes skyward, a gleam of deviltry in them, you smirked, "It was a joke. Don't ever use a motto, it's a terrible idea."

"Thank goodness! I thought it's something high magi of Clock Tower have." The next second Peter made a sigh of relief, and then the both of you laughed loudly, making other people on the platform throw glances at you.

Although you realized the young man had much less experience than you, you still felt he would be fun to have around. If he could make your life a little easier, you would accept his help.

Moving away from the platform and soon passing through the station's hall, you went straight to the city streets instead of catching a taxi. Peter hurried after you, still perplexed at your refusal to let him carry your bag - you guessed he expected you to boss him around, and it made you chuckle. What Pierce was doing with young magi here if Peter had such an impression about higher-ups?

"Lady Ragna, I was informed that the cottage where you chose to stay is in the suburbs. Did you decide to change it?" He asked, seeing you walking to a completely different place.

"No, it's the same cottage. If you wonder why we aren't driving there right now, I'd prefer to patrol the streets tonight to get to know the city. We can discuss the details of the job in the meantime."

You walked away fast, not looking at your companion anymore and watching the night city instead: you had never been to Tombra before, but many magi from the Clock Tower were born there, and their talk about the city always made you a little jealous. Born in a small town to a simple human woman who knew nothing of magic, you always wished to know what it was like to grow up in a true magic society like the one in Tombra, a home to many noble families, albeit smaller and less significant than those living in the capital. 

The city looked exactly like you imagined it: giant grey buildings stood besides the streets, and while they didn't look particularly pretty, you loved those countless neon signages and bright posters that were shining even in the darkness of the night. The streets were busy with tourists admiring the city, couples walking out of the fancy restaurants and cinemas, and young people, recklessly snooping around some nightclubs and bars, trying to get in despite the security glaring at them and requiring them to show their ID cards while the kids pretended they forgot them. There was also a small marketplace with colorful food trucks and booths, offering both local and international cuisine, and you blended into the crowd immediately, taking some crepes and then buying takoyaki - Peter, following you like a puppy, looked shocked.

"I can't do my job on an empty stomach," you smirked and handed him some takoyaki.

Funny enough, he accepted the second you showed the plastic plate into his hands, eating so hungrily as if he had been starving the whole day.

"Well, now since I feel a bit better, let's talk business," you motioned the young man to follow you, and turned to a narrow alley, leaving the noisy market that was going to be full of people for at least a couple of hours more. "Do you have any idea why I have been sent by the Association?"

Licking his fingers, Peter looked somewhat shyly at you, probably afraid he would say something silly, "From what I understand, the reason is some unnatural magic activity the Association couldn't trace, and the involvement of its user in several murders."

"Correct." Crossing the alley, you scratched the chipped paint from an old building in front of you and looked at your fingers, furrowing your brows. "To be precise, the reason why the Association didn't leave these murders to a human police is the method how these murders were carried on. Whoever did it pretty much sucked the soul out of victims' bodies."

Peter frowned, staying still while you kept examining the concrete wall in front of you, drawing strange symbols that started glowing immediately as you finished them.

"It may sounds funny, but the ritual necessary to prevent the soul of a dead person to come back to Akasha is known only to a couple of magi, and each of them is considered a great danger to the society by the Association. This alone is a threat, but Mr. Stark's other concern is the indefinite nature of magic practiced in Tombra. It is likely that the magus responsible for the deaths is planning something much more sinister, and we can't allow this to happen."

Finding what you were looking for, you nodded to yourself and moved further, Peter walking right beside you with a concerned expression on his face. He was probably surprised you didn't need his guidance, but you spent the last three days memorizing Tombra's map.

"Do you mean that the souls of victims can be combined to become a power source for some... dark ritual or something?" He asked nervously, licking his lips.

You smirked, turning to him and pointing to the wall of the next building that started to glow subtly as you got close, "Exactly, Peter."

__________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx

[touyasdoll]

Dumb Luck

From anon: Hi, I've had a shitty few days with terrible luck and I hoping a request for you could make things better. Just a simple Shoto x reader story where the reader regards Shoto as her/their lucky charm, because he makes them feel less cursed and actually valuable. (I'm really venting here, but I hope this gets your inspiration flowing, it doesn't have to be very long.)

Word count: 2.3k

A/n: I’m so sorry that it took so long to get to, but I hope you enjoy and I hope things are going well for you, anon 🖤

———————————

“All right, class, we have a new student. I trust that you will all make her feel welcome.”

Your new home room teacher was addressing the entirety of Class 1A, but he kept his intimidating gaze squarely fixed on a shorter looking boy with purple balls atop his head, who was clearly squirming under Aizawa’s stare.

Making a mental note to avoid whoever that boy was, you scanned the room to peer out at the faces of your new classmates. They all looked nice, save for one blonde boy who’s face seemed to be permanently transfixed in a scowl.

Maybe you should avoid him too? And that’s when you saw the most handsome face you had ever laid eyes on for the very first time. His hair was two-toned, red and white. His eyes were also heterochromatic and one was framed with a large scar, but both seemed to gleam as he offered a gentle smile toward you.

“Go ahead and introduce yourself and then feel free to take your seat at the back of the class next to Todoroki."

That’s when you noticed the empty seat next to him. You cleared your throat, trying to fight off the blush that was creeping across your cheeks.

"Hi, my name is Y/n. I'm looking forward to getting to know you all."

You smiled as you took in some more of your new classmates faces, feeling reassured by the bright smile on the face of a green haired boy who just might have been an actual cinnamon roll in disguise.

"What's your quirk?"

Your attention was called to a girl with horns and pink skin, who also offered a reaffirming smile in your direction.

"Oh, uhm, I have a telekinesis quirk."

Tucking some hair behind your ear, you shifted on your feet as you were about to take a step toward your assigned seat when another male student with bright red hair called out.

"What? That's so manly! I mean--not that you're--that's not what i meant, you're really pretty actually I--," he scratched at the back of his neck, his face flushing the same shade as his crimson hair. "I mean can we see your quirk? If that's okay with you?"

Aizawa sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he took a seat at his desk, shaking his head at the awkward exchange that he would rather just not acknowledge.

You laughed it off and blushed in response to the red head's compliment.

"Uh, yeah, if that's okay?"

Looking over at your teacher, he exhaled and nodded, his stoic expression returning to his persistently tired features.

"Oh, and uh pick a number between 1 and 10,000"

Setting your bag down, you nodded toward the boy and watched him bare his sharp teeth as he momentarily paused to think and then nodded in response to your request.

"Okay, I got it."

Maintaining eye contact with him, you focused on his thoughts while activating your quirk to lift his backpack off of his seat, guiding it toward the front of the room with your hands, before returning it to it's rightful place.

"Whoa! That's so cool!"

He grinned in awe as he watched his backpack settle behind him once again.

"Y/n?" The green haired boy had his hand up, looking perplexed, but also so polite as he waited for your attention. "Why did you have him pick a number?"

You smiled as you physically picked up your bag, slinging it back over your shoulder.

"Oh, because there's kinda two parts to my quirk, but actually, could you pick a number? I don't know if I wanna repeat the one he picked."

You watched the red head blush as he shrunk back in his desk, before glancing back at Todoroki, who eyes were still intent on your frame.

"You can tell Todoroki for confirmation, so you know I'm not faking."

He perked up a bit at the sound of you saying his name, the corners of his lips turning up in a shy smile before he leaned over, so that the boy could whisper his number in his ear.

"Got it?"

You smiled at Todoroki, his small smile making your stomach do flips before you found the will to look away from him and back and the other boy.

After a moment of concentration, you announced your guess.

"4,389. Right?"

His green eyes went wide and an excited smile broke across his freckled cheeks.

"Whoa, are you psychic? Telekinesis AND telepathy? That's so awesome! Oh my gosh, can I ask you some questions after class, so I can write some not--

You nodded, blushing a bit at his enthusiasm. You've always enjoyed your quirk, but no one had ever reacted quite as energetically to it and the rest of the class seemed almost as amazed as him.

"Wait, what was Kirishima's number?"

The perpetually angry looking blonde boy's face twisted in curiosity as you moved to take your seat.

"It was uh, six thousand, nine hundred sixty-nine. Right?"

Your voice was barely above a whisper as your quickly scurried toward your desk, not missing the deep shade of red Kirishima had turned before the blonde boy smacked his arm with the back of his hand.

"Is there some significance to that number?"

Todoroki's gaze followed you as you took your seat beside him, ignoring the laughter that had erupted throughout the classroom, much to Aizawa's chagrin.

"Oh, uh, yeah it's uh--I don't quite know how to explain it though. Uhm," fidgeting in your seat, you slung your bag over your chair before turning somewhat sideways, angling yourself in your seat to face him, keeping your voice low. "Do you not know why the number 69 is significant?"

His expression seemed to only grow more puzzled as he cocked his head further to one side.

"No. I can understand why 6,969 would be significant, seeing as it's 69 repeated, but I don't see why that number i--"

A boy with yellow hair, striped in the front with a bit of black leaned over, interrupting Todoroki's query.

Suddenly, his eyes grew a bit wider and he nodded slightly, the faintest hint of a blush creeping up on his cheeks.

"Oh, I see. Okay. I can see why that would be funny.”

His smile was small and somewhat reserved, but it was adorable and the sight of it made you giggle.

"Yeah, that's why I didn't wanna go with his number. Didn't want anyone to think that I was a perv or playing a gross joke or something. I'm not trying to start off on the wrong foot here."

He cocked his head slightly to the side again, turning somewhat in his desk the way you had to better face you.

"Well, I think you have made a good first impression. I like you."

Your cheeks may as well have gone up in flames, you could tell they were beet red.

"Oh, uhm, thank you, Todoroki."

Clearing your throat again, you hoped the excess color would drain from your cheeks in the time you took to stare at the floor beneath your desk.

"You can call me Shoto."

His hand awkwardly extended toward you after a brief pause, flashing in front of the view you had of your feet beneath your desk.

You reached out and shook it carefully, feeling an icy coolness in your palms that you were grateful for as you felt your hands clam up.

"It's really nice to meet you, Shoto. You're uhm, you're so much nicer than anyone I ever interacted with at my last school, so uh, thank you for that."

His brow furrowed in confusion as you both retracted your hands.

"What do you mean? They weren't nice to you? Why?"

You shrugged shifting your weight to rest your elbow on the desk, accidentally knocking your unprotected cell phone straight off the desk, which mercifully landed on top of Shoto's bag, which had fallen to the floor, no doubt saving your phone from what would have been a thoroughly cracked screen.

"Oh--! Oh, wow, I thought that was going to end up broken for sure. That would have been my just my luck."

"Maybe your luck is changing. I hope your experience here at UA is different than it was at your previous school. I'll do my best to make your time here more positive."

His smile was somewhat sheepish, but genuine and for the first time in a long time, you felt comfortable around your peers. Maybe transferring schools was a good idea after all.

//Two Weeks Later//

"Dang it!" You huffed as your hurriedly threw your books into your backpack, scrambling to get up from the desk in the library.

Shoto calmly looked up at you in your frenzied state and stood, beginning to pack up his things as well.

"Where are we going?"

Throwing your bag over your shoulders, you nabbed the last of your books off the desk and made a move to start toward the door, but stopped when you realized Shoto was getting up to follow you.

"I completely lost track of time. I have to catch the last bus to go and pick something up downtown and I think I'm about to miss it."

He nodded and stepped toward you, following you out the library doors.

"Sometimes the buses run a little late. Maybe if you're lucky, it won't have come yet."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his suggestion.

"Yeah, sure. Look, I will give you fair warning now; I'm one of the unluckiest people in the planet. The odds are super slim of even something small going wrong? My luck dictates that absolutely EVERYTHING will go wrong. At this point, I'm nearly convinced that a witch cursed me as a baby or something."

He shrugged, coming to a halt at the curb as a bus slowly began to pull up.

"I told you."

Your mouth gaped slightly as you shook your head.

"Okay, wow, well I'm glad you were right about the buses running late."

"I meant about what I said about your luck changing. I hope you've been having a better time here than at your last school. You deserve to, Y/n."

He stepped back and gestured for you to enter the bus ahead of him, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Oh, uhm, I--uh, I hope so."

You climbed up the steps and nearly tripped up the small flight of stairs, but his strong hands steadied your hips from behind before anyone could notice your falter, keeping you from making a fool out of yourself in front of a nearly packed bus.

"Thank you, Shoto."

You scurried toward the first set of open seats that you could find, letting your hair dangle in your face to try and conceal the heat on your face.

"Sorry, I, uh--," Shoto took a seat beside you, actively trying not to let his muscular thigh brush against yours, which was virtually impossible on a crowded bus, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with the way I touched you, I--I just didn't--didn't want you to fall or anything."

Feeling a bit more brave in sensing how nervous he was over the interaction, you relaxed and let the arm and leg that were already pressed up against him in the tight quarters press against him a little more intentionally.

"It's okay, I appreciate you not letting me make an absolute fool of myself. Seems like you're always around to help me in that regard."

Giggling, you began searching for the nerve to look up and make eye contact with him.

Hearing him mumble something, you decided to dig deep and look up at him with a curious smile.

"Hmm? Did you say something?"

His left side was giving off more heat than usual as you noticed he was blushing too, scratching the back of his neck nervously with his right hand.

"Dumb luck, I guess. That I'm always around when you need it. I'm glad I can be, I hope I can, uh, continue to be. If you, i-if you would let me be around you more often lik--"

He was rambling, clearly nervous, and it was an adorable sight to see. Further emboldened by his demeanor, you shifted your weight to lean against him, brushing the back of his hand with yours.

"Are you trying to ask me out, Shoto?"

His expression went blank as he nodded, save for the adorable flush on his cheeks.

"I am. Did I do it right? Or---wait, did you read my mind?"

You shook your head as your giggled, knitting your fingers together with his.

"No, I didn't need to."

He smiled, shifting his weight to lean against you as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

"How did you know then?"

You shrugged playfully before resting your head against his shoulder.

"Dumb luck."

[evermoreholland]

in harmony | tom holland

-> singer!reader x tom holland

-> summary: after a nasty break up, you go to london with your two best friends in hope to find inspiration for your upcoming album and a london boy soon became your muse.

-> word count: 5.7k

-> a/n: wow. this is probably my favorite fic of mine. i hope you all enjoy it as much as i do. big thank you to @rainbowrobin for hyping this fic up and being its biggest fan. also thank you to @cali-holland for beta reading this for me! your support means the world to me and you inspire me every day to keep writing. love you to bits <3

~~~

Breaking up with someone you used to care about was never easy. In fact, grieving and eventually getting over that person was the hardest thing to do. You were a singer so relationships that went public usually ended up terribly wrong. The good part about it is that you can write a hit song about the experience.

Breaking up with your past boyfriend was probably the worst experience for you thus far. You thought that he was the one, every move you made was for him and you ended up depending on him constantly. And he broke your heart. He played you like a fiddle and played with the strings of your heart. He cheated on you with someone you were insecure about the duration of your relationship with him, which made everything feel worse.

You decided that you needed a change of scenery in hopes to clear your head. You had been spending time in your Los Angeles apartment moping around, trying to get over your ex-boyfriend. You also had a deadline for your new album and you haven’t even started. Your album was due towards the end of the summer, and it was now spring.

You sat down on your sofa with a pen and notebook in your hand. You were determined to write something. You didn’t want to write songs about your breakup, but that was all you were thinking about. You saw your phone on the coffee table light up and buzz. It was your manager and agent, Cassandra. You picked up the phone nervously, knowing that she was going to ask about your progress or lack thereof.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Hello, Y/N,” Cassandra greeted sweetly. “How’s the album coming along? We need to start recording soon.”

“Funny you ask.” You always tried to make fun out of an uncomfortable situation.

“Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, Cass! I have no idea what I should be writing about for this album.” It’s not like you didn’t want to write. You did, but you had no idea what to write about.

“Maybe you need a change of scenery, dear. You haven’t been out in months,” Cassandra suggested.

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Where would you want to go? You can stay there for the rest of the spring and the beginning of the summer.”

You thought about it for a moment. You definitely wanted to leave the country.  “How does London sound, Cass?”

“Sounds nice. I’ll book you, Natalie, and Sarah tickets for this weekend and I’ll rent the three of you an Airbnb for your stay,” Cassandra confirmed. Natalie was your personal assistant and your best friend. Sarah was your older sister who traveled with you everywhere and she helped you with many of your songs. She was good to bounce ideas off of. You had the perfect team.

“Perfect. Thank you.” You both said your goodbyes and hung up.

***

Tom got off the airplane and sighed in relief. He was finally home. After many months of filming on another continent, he was back in London. Tom was ready to finally sleep in his own bed and hang out with his brothers and friends once again.

Harry and Tom took an Uber back to Tom’s apartment. It was fairly late and all Tom wanted to do was sleep. In the Uber, Tom and Harry made light conversation.

“You want to go to the new pub by our flat this weekend? Haz and Tuwaine want to hang out,” Harry asked.

“Sure,” Tom mumbled. To be quite honest, Tom had absolutely no desire to go out at all this weekend, but he knew that his mates wanted to see him. He did want to see them too, so he agreed.

“Sounds good.”

***

You packed your suitcases for London at the last minute. In your defense, Cassandra only booked Thursday night’s tickets on Wednesday, so you didn’t have that much time in the first place. You were planning on using your time in London to relax and to create a healthy headspace to write your next album.

You called Natalie to ask her opinion on some of your outfit choices. “Nat, am I going for a  casual look this trip? Like sweatpants and t-shirts?”

“Absolutely not, Y/N. Are you insane?!”

“It was just a question, Natalie.” You defended yourself. “What should I pack then?”

“I don’t know, just look hot. You need to get out of the post-breakup sweatpants phase.”

“Fine,” you grumbled. You grabbed some cute spring sundresses from your closet and threw them into your suitcase. You packed some jeans and blouses as well.

You hung up with Natalie and took a look at your bag. “Should be good.”

***

The flight to London from Los Angeles was long and exhausting. You arrived at Heathrow airport in the early afternoon on Friday. You immediately went to the house to rest up from jetlag. Once you woke up a few hours later, Sarah was pressuring you and Natalie to get dressed. “We’re going to the pub! Get up, ladies!”

“What? Why?” Natalie groaned. You and Natalie were laying on your beds in your shared room. Sarah jumped onto your bed and tackled you.

“Sarah, we’re exhausted,” you said. You pushed your sister off of you and sat up. “We can just go tomorrow.”

“It’s the pub’s grand opening! It’s supposed to be fire!”

“Fine,” you mumbled. You got up and began unpacking your suitcase. “But I refuse to wear heels.”

***

Harrison made his way to his best mate’s flat to pick him up for the Cheer Beers grand opening on Friday night. Harrison used his spare key to get into Tom’s place. “Tom,” Harrison called out. He made his way to Tom’s bedroom to make sure he was ready for the night.

“In my room!” Tom exclaimed. Tom sounded upset and agitated. Harrison entered his room anyway because he wanted to hang out with his best friend. He opened the door and noticed Tom laying his bed under the covers.

“Are you alright, mate?” Harrison asked. Harrison noticed Tom in his pajamas while in bed. “Why aren’t you ready to go? Harry already went out with Tuwaine to wait in line.”

“I want to hang out with you all, but I’m just so jetlagged, mate.”

Harrison took his phone out of his back pocket to check the time and noticed an Instagram notification from you. He opened it out of curiosity and it was a direct message. It said that you would be at Cheer Beers tonight with your friends and asked if he was going. Harrison and you had met at an award show a few months back and you became friends. “You know what I just found out, Tom?”

“What?”

“Y/N L/N is going to the grand opening tonight.”

“You’re lying just to get me out of bed!” Tom accused him. Tom didn’t want to admit it, but he fancied you. He has been following you on social media and listening to your music for a while now, so Harrison saying you were going to be at the pub caught his attention.

“I’m not.” Harrison showed Tom his phone with your direct message. “I had no idea she was in town, though.”

“No clue, either.”

“Now will you come?” Harrison asked. “I know you have a huge crush on her.”

Tom eyed him skeptically but then let out a sigh. “Fine, I’ll go.”

***

You waited in line outside of Cheer Beers with Sarah and Natalie. You were wearing a black sleeveless cocktail dress with black slip-on vans. You saw a few familiar faces approach you and you realized that it’s your friend Harrison and his mates. You recognized one of his friends to be Tom Holland.

“Hey, Haz!” You greeted. He pulled you into a hug and squeezed you tightly. You pulled away and said, “Following me, I see?”

“Very funny,” he replied. “We were coming to opening night anyway. We were planning this in honor of Tom’s return from filming.”

“Oh, that’s right,” you said and then turned to Tom. You put your hand out for him to shake. “I’m Y/N.”

He shook your hand and you felt his sweaty palm touch yours. You could assume that he was either unwell or nervous. “Tom. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise.”

You introduced Natalie and Sarah to Harrison and he introduced the rest of his friends to the three of you.

“Would you like to share a table with us?” Harry, Tom’s younger brother, asked you.

“I’m sure that Y/N L/N would have much better opportunities than to sit with us, Harry,” Tom interjected.

“Actually, Tom, we would love to.” You all entered the pub and grabbed a table in the back room. Harrison sat between Sarah and Tuwaine. Harry sat by Natalie. You sat between Natalie and Tom, per Natalie’s whisper in your ear to go for it. You all got your first round of drinks.

“So what brings you to London?” Tom asked.

“Needed to clear my head,” you said and then ate the olives from your martini.

“So you flew halfway across the world?” Tom was amused and you could tell. He wasn’t trying to laugh at you particularly, he just thought it was funny that you chose London of all places.

“Shut up,” you teased. “We’re here for the summer. A vacation, or holiday, if you will.”

“Nice, nice.” You could feel the slight awkward tension between the two of you. You were basically strangers so it made sense. You decided to try and break it. “How was filming for the third Spider-Man film?”

Tom’s eyes lit up at your sudden interest in his work. “Can I tell you a funny story?”

***

Three hours passed by and you decided to call it a night. You talked with Tom the entire night. You enjoyed his company but you were also jetlagged. “Tom, I’m tired,” you said as you leaned on his shoulder.

“Me too.”

“Want to walk me home?” You asked.

“Would love to.” You both got up from the booth and Tom paid for your drinks, even though you protested. Harrison, Tuwaine, Harry, Sarah, and Natalie didn’t look like they were ready to leave any time soon so you said your goodbyes to them and left with Tom.

“How far are you away from here?” Tom asked you.

“About a ten minute walk.” You began walking in the cool London air.

“So, Harrison told me that you were writing for your new album. How’s that going?”

“Not well,” you said as you crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s been fucking difficult.”

“I’m sorry, love.” The pet named warmed your heart and body even more. Tom wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer to him. “I wish I can help you out somehow.”

“It’s alright. Getting out tonight helped me get into a good headspace,” you said.

“Glad to hear it.” You arrived at your Airbnb and Tom walked you to the front door. “I had a great time tonight, Y/N.”

You smiled, the first genuine smile that you’ve had in a while. “Me too, Tom.” You opened your door to enter.

“Wait.” Tom stopped you. “Let me get your number.”

“Sure.”

***

Two weeks had passed since you arrived in London and you and Tom have been texting back and forth. He had even taken you on a tour of London. He took you to all of the hot spots. Occasionally, Tom, Harrison, and Harry would come over to your Airbnb to hang out with you, Sarah, and Natalie. You were developing friendships with everyone, but you felt a bit stronger about Tom. He was charming, kind, and really funny. You enjoyed his company and you finally got the chance to start writing for your upcoming album. You realized that you didn’t want to write about your breakup with your ex, but instead write about your crush on the brown-haired London boy.

“How is the album coming along?” Cassandra asked you on the phone.

“Pretty good. I have a killer single coming your way and many other songs too.”

“Remember, we need to start recording at the end of July.”

“You got it.”

“You sound happy,” she commented. She was right. You were happy and finally completely over your ex. “It’s a good look on you.”

“Thanks.”

“What are you writing about?”

“Oh, you know… London, pubs, boys,” you trailed off.

***

Harrison was busy planning his upcoming date with your sister, Sarah. They hit it off extremely well at the opening of Cheer Beers. They got each other’s numbers and planned to go on a date. To be honest, Harrison was stressed out. He scored a date with Sarah L/N, which ultimately shocked him. So, he decided to go to his best mate for some advice.

Tom was sitting in his living room and Harrison entered with two dress shirts in hand. One of them was a white button-down and the other one navy. “Which shirt should I wear on my date with Sarah?”

“Black slacks, right?” Tom asked.

“Yeah, and a black leather jacket.”

“Go with white,” Tom suggested.

“Thanks, mate. Another question,” Harrison proposed. It felt natural for Harrison to ask Tom about his lady troubles, even though Tom had been single for a while.

Tom nodded his head to urge Harrison to continue.

“What if I fuck this up?” He asked nervously. “I really like Sarah.”

Tom got up from the couch to come closer to Harrison and put his hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine, mate. Just be yourself. She’ll fancy you, I promise.”

“How are you so good at giving me advice but you can’t get a girlfriend?”

Tom mocked being bothered. “Rude,” he scoffed.

“What are you waiting for?”

“If I say the perfect girl, will you slap me?” Tom joked.

“Yes, yes I will,” Harrison laughed as he replied. “I think that you already found the perfect girl at Cheer Beers.”

“We’re still getting to know each other. Why must we move so fast?” Tom wondered. He wanted to take things slow. His life had always moved fast and he wanted something to move at his pace, for once. Too many relationships have moved too fast and he ended up hurt.

“Because she’s only here for so long and I have a feeling that she likes you,” Harrison reasoned. Tom was starting to feel the same way about you too.

“Fine. While you go on your date with Sarah tonight, I’ll see if Y/N wants to hang out.” He picked up his phone from the coffee table and texted you asking if you wanted to come over. You replied saying yes and he smiled. “We’re hanging out.”

“Great. Don’t forget to use protection,” Harrison said as he ran away to go get dressed for his date.

“Fuck off, you div!”

***

Tom went to the grocery store to pick up some snacks and beers before you came over to his flat. He tidied up the living room once he got home and made sure to fluff the pillow to make them look nicer. Even though you and Tom were only friends, he couldn’t help but make sure that everything looked perfect for you.

You arrived 30 minutes later. You wore sweatpants and a sweatshirt, along with your slides. Your hair was out of your face and Tom thought that you looked stunning. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Tom blushed. “Nice sweatshirt.” Your sweatshirt was light blue and it had butterflies on it. Tom realized that he loved that color on you.

He led you to the couch and he sat beside you. “So what did you do today?” You asked.

“I worked on a script that I’m writing and then I helped Harrison get ready for his date with your sister. What about you, love?” The pet name made your heart flutter. Tom was definitely charming.

“I worked on some songs for the album,” you answered proudly.

“Care to share?”

“Willing to share what the script’s about?” You asked back, already knowing the answer.

“I’m legally not allowed to share, so no. I’m sorry, darling.”

“Then my answer is the same.”

“Well played, pretty girl,” he flirted. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“Sure, what do you have in mind?”

“Avengers: Age of Ultron?”

“Yes, it’s one of my favorite Marvel movies!” You exclaimed. “I have a feeling that you knew that already.”

Tom smiled at you as he picked up the remote from the coffee table and turned on the television. “I may have, but only because Haz told me. Don’t worry, though. It’s one of my favorites too.”

Tom found the movie and before he hit play he got up from the couch. “May I offer you some popcorn before we start the movie? I have beer as well.”

“Yes to both, please.” Tom went to the kitchen to pop the popcorn and grab some beers. He came back around five minutes later with everything.

“Here you go,” he said as he handed you a bottle of beer. “I know it’s not a martini.”

“It’ll have to do,” you teased. You pat the seat beside you to urge Tom over. “Now, come sit.”

Tom pressed play and the Marvel introduction appeared on the screen. You moved closer to Tom and he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, just like he did that night at the pub. “Is this ok?” He asked.

“It’s perfect.”

Around an hour into the movie, the popcorn was finished along with your first bottle of beer. Tom’s hand was still resting on your shoulder but now your head was resting on his. “Y/N?” Tom called out.

“Yeah?” You asked as you moved your head away from him so you could look at him.

“Can I be honest with you about something?” You nodded so he would continue. “I really want to kiss you.”

“Can I be honest with you?” You asked while smiling.

“Yeah.”

“I really want you to kiss me,” you said as you leaned in. He pressed his lips against yours in a soft first kiss. You kissed back almost immediately. After a couple of seconds, you pulled away from him.

“Wow,” he said.

“Ditto,” you said and then pulled him back towards you. You kissed him again and you knew that from now on, you couldn’t get enough of him.

***

Tom and you didn’t finish the movie the other night. After your many makeout sessions with him, you decided to go home, and you promised him that the two of you would get together again soon. You went home with the biggest smile on your face. Since your kiss, you and Tom have not talked about the status of your relationship. As of right now, you were just friends who have kissed before. No biggie.

It was now the 28th of May and you were sitting on a park bench having coffee with Harrison. It would be Tom’s 25th birthday in four days and the two of you were attempting to plan the perfect party for him.

“You’ll get the decorations, Sam will cook a few dishes, and I’ll provide booze,” Harrison said, listing things off. “We’ll host it at my new flat and I already called everyone.”

“Sounds great, Haz. I just hope he has a great time.”

“I’m sure he will,” he said as he winked at you, indicating something.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, referring to his wink.

“I know that something happened between the two of you last week. Tom hasn’t stopped smiling since the two of you started hanging out. I’m sure he’ll be happy to know that you planned a party for him.”

“We all are planning it,” you corrected him.

“Yeah, but it’s not like he fancies me,” Harrison laughed.

You rolled your eyes at the blonde-haired boy in front of you. “Whatever.” You got up from the park bench and began walking towards his car. “Come on, Harrison. We need to go to the market.”

***

It was the 1st of June; Tom’s birthday. You woke up early to make sure that everything was ready to go for the party tonight. Harrison and Tom’s brothers planned a golf trip with Tom while you set up Harrison’s flat. You brought Sarah and Natalie along with you to help.

“Move that banner a little more to the right,” you told Sarah. She moved it as you requested. The banner said, Happy 25th birthday, Tom! in light blue glitter. “Looks great. Thanks, sis.”

You blew up balloons, set up tables for the food and drinks, got streamers and ribbons, and finally assembled the cupcake tower with the cupcakes you and Natalie baked the night before.

“Red velvet. Nice choice,” Sarah said as she took a look at the cupcakes on display.

“They’re Tom’s favorite,” you pointed out.

“Seems like you know a lot about him.”

“Well, he is my friend.”

Natalie laughed at your response to your sister’s comment. “Is that all he is?” She asked.

“For now.” You pulled out your phone from your pocket to check the time. It was the early afternoon and the party would start in a few hours. “We better get going to get ready. Sam will bring the food and set it up within the hour.”

Before you got into the car, you texted Tom to wish him a happy birthday and he responded with a heart emoji. You smiled to yourself and then got into the car to drive to your Airbnb.

The three of you washed up and got dressed for Tom’s party. You decided on wearing a light blue sundress with daisies on it. You matched it with white wedges and you did your hair to your liking. Once you were all ready you drove to Harrison’s. When you got there, Harrison, Sam, Tuwaine, and a few other friends of Tom’s were already there.

“Harry is bringing Tom in around 15 minutes,” Harrison told you.

“Ok. Everything seems to be going pretty smoothly.”

“We make a pretty great team,” Harrison said in appreciation for all of the work to make Tom’s party happen.

“Tell that to Sarah over there,” you teased him. His date with your sister went well from what she told you, but because of Harrison’s nervousness, they haven’t talked much since. “She’s been dying to hang out with you.”

“Are you just saying that so you can have Tom all to yourself when he gets here?” He tried to joke.

“No,” you said seriously. “Go talk to her, Haz.” You pushed him lightly in her direction to encourage him to go talk to her.

“I see Harry’s car pulling up!” Sam said a few minutes later. “Everyone get ready.”

Harry used Harrison’s spare key to get into his flat and once both of them entered you all yelled, “Surprise!”

“Thanks, guys!” Tom said in shock. Tom made his rounds to greet everyone to say thank you. You waited patiently in the kitchen for the birthday boy. He finally approached you after a few minutes. “Hey, love.”

“Happy birthday,” you said as you pulled him in for a hug. “You look very handsome.”

He pulled away to look at you. “Thank you, but you’re absolutely stunning.”

You leaned in to kiss his cheek and then said, “Thanks, Tom.”

“I should be thanking you,” he said and then grabbed your hands to intertwine your fingers together.

“For what?”

“Harrison told me that you helped him plan all of this, so thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” you said genuinely. “You like it?”

“I love it. He looked over to the counter and saw the cupcakes. “Is that a cupcake tower?”

“A red velvet cupcake tower,” you confirmed. “I baked them.”

“You’re a goddess.” He kissed your lips for half a second and then grabbed a cupcake from one of the tiers. He unwrapped the cupcake and then took a bite. He hummed in delight.

“I’m taking that you like them,” you giggled at the man in front of you. He could seriously make anything look cute.

“They’re heaven,” he moaned. Tom dipped his finger in the frosting and swiped your nose with it. You looked at him in shock. “Aw, you look so adorable,” he said.

You laughed at his antics. “Glad you think so, babe.”

Tom’s lit up at the pet name. “Babe? Hmmm.”

“Yeah, babe.” You took some frosting from what was remaining of his cupcake and placed some on his nose to match you. “You look very cute with frosting on your nose, babe.”

Tom grabbed a napkin from the counter and cleaned the frosting off the both of you. “We’re both very cute.”

“Ok, lovebirds,” Sam called out for the two of you. “Let’s get this party started!”

“Before we go out there, I have something to ask you,” Tom said.

“And what may that be?”

“Will you go out on a date with me?” He asked nervously. You felt your heart skip a beat and you could’ve sworn that you felt Tom’s heart beating rapidly from how close you were standing to him.

“I would love to, Tom,” you said and then kissed him to confirm that you really wanted to.

***

The rest of the night went well and Tom enjoyed his time with his friends. You, Sarah, and Natalie crashed at Harrison’s place along with Tom and Harry. The party ended late and the five of you were too tired to drive home, so Harrison offered to let you all stay there.

You woke up early and made your way downstairs to heat the kettle for tea. As you were waiting, you heard footsteps, and soon enough a pair of arms wrapped around you. “Good morning, beautiful,” Tom said and then kissed your clothed shoulder.

“Morning.” You turned around so you could face him. “How did you sleep?”

“Not so well,” Tom said as he stretched out his arms. “Harrison’s a kicker.”

“Poor baby,” you teased, and then Tom pouted. “Quit pouting, Tommy. I know you’re faking it.”

“Fine,” Tom mumbled.

You turned to the stove and saw that the kettle was ready. “Want tea?”

“Please. A splash of milk and a spoonful of sugar, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” you said as you poured him a cup. “So where are we going on our first date?”

“That’s a surprise, darling.”

***

A week after Tom’s birthday, Tom texted you asking if you were available to go on your first date. You had been working on the album the entire morning so you thought it’d be nice to go out with Tom. You replied yes and he told you to be ready within the hour. Tom knocked on your door around an hour later, with a bouquet in his hand. “These are for you, love,” he said with a smile as he handed them to you.

“Thank you, Tom,” you said and then sniffed the flowers. “Come in while I put these in some water.” Tom entered your Airbnb and you searched for a vase in one of the cabinets. Once you found one, you filled it up with water and put the flowers in. “We should be good to go now.”

Tom held your hand as he led you to the car. He opened the door for you and then got in and started the car. “You ready?”

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“You’ll see in around 15 minutes, angel.” Tom grabbed your hand that was resting in your lap and brought it up to his lips to kiss it. “I don’t think I told you this, but you look ethereal.”

“You’re quite the charmer, Holland.”

“I aim to please,” he joked. “But in all seriousness, you always look gorgeous.”

Tom was by far the kindest man you have ever met in your entire life. You have known him for barely two months but he made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. You had never felt this way about anyone before.

Tom drove down to a lake. “It’s one of my secret spots,” he told you.

He led you down to the grass near the water and he set up a picnic there for the two of you. “I made sandwiches, cut up some fruit, and some apple cider.”

“It looks good. Thank you, Tom.” He pulled everything out from the picnic basket and handed you one of the sandwiches.

“Anything for you.”

“So this is one of your secret spots, huh?” You asked.

“Mhm,” he mumbled as he took a bite from his sandwich.

“So you bring a lot of girls here?” You teased and you could’ve sworn that you saw Tom almost choke on his sandwich. “Is that why it's so special?”

“Very funny, love,” Tom said. “No, I actually come here alone.”

“I’m guessing because it’s quiet.”

“Yeah, I come here when I need to clear my head.”

You looked around the area and you immediately understood why Tom liked it so much. There was a beautiful, cool breeze and the birds chirping sounded like music to your ears. “It’s beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“I can drive you here to write songs if you’d like,” Tom offered.

“That would be lovely.”

You and Tom spent a couple of hours at the lake. You talked about anything and everything, and you finally felt yourself get closer to him. You felt him opening up to you too, which you felt good about.

“Would you like to go on a drive with me?” Tom asked once you both packed up the remainder of the picnic.

“Will there be music involved?”

“What would be a nice evening drive without music? C’mon, let’s go.” Tom led you to his car and you began your drive. The sun was setting and it was beautiful. “It’s wonderful outside, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” you said.

“I had a great time with you, Y/N.”

“Me too.”

*** Once Tom dropped you off, you began writing another song. His date left you inspired and you were starting to like him more and more. Each time you saw him your feelings for him grew. He inspired you to write your song, London Boy.

Tom wanted a second date. He felt so good leaving the first one and knew that he wanted to pursue a relationship with you. He knew that it would be hard but relationships won’t always be easy. He decided to call you the next to ask when he could see you again.

“Tom, we just went out,” you teased.

“I know, Y/N, but I like you. A lot.” You thought that it was cute how Tom was eager for a second date. You were excited too.

“I like you, too. I would love to see you again, too,” you said.

“Coffee? I don’t drink it but I know how much you like it,” Tom offered.

“How about tea? Know any good spots for a cup of tea and maybe breakfast?”

“I know just the place. See you soon, Y/N.”

***

Many amazing dates with Tom and a bunch of fun days in London later and you know that you’re ready to start recording your next album. People had their assumptions about you and Tom. Rumors had gone around but Tom and you didn’t address them.

London inspired so much of your album that you decided to record there. The rest of your team flew out and you began recording.

You called Tom asking him to come to the studio. “I’m recording one of my favorite songs today. I would love for you to come if you’re free.” You were recording London Boy today and you wanted Tom to hear it since he hadn’t before. It would also be a good way to officially tell Tom that you’re falling in love with him.

“I would love to come. Send me the address.”

“You got it. See you in 20.”

You sent Tom the address of the studio and he was there within 15 minutes. You greeted him at the front. “Hey, babe.”

He kissed you on the cheek and then asked, “Are you excited for today?”

“Very. I’m excited for you to hear the song,” you said as you led him into the studio. You introduced him to Cassandra and the rest of your team.

���Y/N, get your pretty ass in the booth,” Cassandra said. You walked into the recording booth and put on your headphones. “Let’s do this.”

“Tom, sit up in front,” you said and then he took a seat beside Cassandra. “This one is called London Boy.”

The upbeat music came on and you knew that you were skipping the intro for now so you went in with the first verse.

I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal And you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee whiskey But something happened, I heard him laughing I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent They say home is where the heart is But that's not where mine lives

You heard Cassandra tell you to stop so they could play it back. You saw Tom smiling at you as you were singing and you took that as a good sign that he was enjoying it.

“Now for the chorus.”

You know I love a London boy I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet Darling, I fancy you Took me back to Highgate, met all of his best mates So I guess all the rumors are true You know I love a London boy Boy, I fancy you (Ooh)

You ended up finishing the recording of the song in an hour. You left the booth for your break and you first greeted Tom. “What did you think of it?”

“I love you, too,” he said. You leaned up to him and kissed him with every fiber of your being.

“That’s good because many of these songs are about you.”

“And I can’t wait to hear them all,” he said and then smiled.

“I can’t believe how I’ve only been here for three months and I already feel this way,” you said honestly. You have never fallen so fast for anyone, but it feels right with Tom. Everything feels right with him.

“Well, believe it because it’s real,” Tom confirmed. “Be mine, Y/N?”

“I thought you’d never ask, lover.”

~~~

leave feedback!

tagging: @tomsbabymomma @canwekissforever-hazzy @pinklxmonade​ @tomsbrina​ @storybookholland​ 

[writings-of-a-british-fangirl]

A Lesson In Touch [Din Djarin x Reader]

Title: A Lesson In Touch Summary: You want nothing more to say your feelings for Din out loud, but words don't come to you or Din easy... Maybe you can express your love in another way. Warnings: A little bit of angst and description of injury, but that's about it Request: N/A

A/N: This is the third and final instalment of "a lesson in" series! ((unless i get inspired to write another part)) Let me know if you have any requests for Din in general!!

A/N 2: Here is a list of people that said they wanted to be tagged for this fic! Hope you like it

@elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey @the-fae-child @zoleea-exultant @captainwanderlust78​ @ihavemyownissuess​

PART 1: A Lesson In Mando’a PART 2: A Lesson In Tradition PART 3: A Lesson In Touch

Din Djarin~A Lesson In Touch

Din hadn't quite mastered the art of subtlety when it came to you. He was very thankful for his beskar, specifically his helmet, otherwise he was sure you would've noticed his outright staring. In no way was he trying to make you feel uncomfortable or offend you, but he just felt mesmerised by you in a way that no other being in the galaxy had. Well, apart from his little green son. But, this... This was something different.

        You were something different.

        Ever since you had bought that necklace, the way he felt about you had only intensified. It was scaring him in ways he didn't even want to confront. Thoughts of a relationship, of a family with you began to stir within him. It wasn't realistic- definitely just a day dream. Kriff, he hadn't even been in a romantic relationship before: how was he ever going to treat you right? Sure, he'd dabbled in a few flings here and there... Some he was less than proud of. Although he'd never broken his Creed, he had certainly bent the rules a handful of times; in his defence, he was young, and stupid... And, touch starved. In truth: he probably still was.

        It had been a long while since anyone had touched him with any other intent than to kill him. He was used to the roughness of touch that came with combat: the way his fists hit another, and he was in turn hit, but your soft lingering touches were enough to distract him for the whole day.

        He began to crave them: any excuse to be close to you.

        If only the Mandalorian knew that he wasn't being as subtle as he thought. Even with the helmet disguising his eyes, you could feel his vision on you. At first, you felt self conscious under his gaze. You interpreted it as him glaring at you: maybe you had done something wrong with the kid? Or maybe you had offended him, and he just wasn't saying anything? But, slowly, you got better at reading his body language. It was tough at first, as Din revealed very little personal information about himself. Coupled this with the fact he was usually clad head to toe in beskar armour, you made slow progress. However, over time, you began to pick up on little cues. Soft, small hints that he wasn't glaring... He was looking at you: you'd caught him staring.  

        You were going to confront him about it, initially; maybe even make a light joke of it. You had quickly gone off of that idea. Soon, you decided you liked the Mandalorians eyes on you; you even let yourself believe that he might only have eyes for you.

        And soon, just as he craved you, you wanted more than just his eyes on you.

~~~

The universe had a fucking funny way of answering your inner desires. When you said, you had wanted to feel him, feel his skin on your own, when you had said you wanted to feel his touch, this wasn't what you meant. Kriff. This was getting bad. Din was bleeding badly.

        What had initially meant to be a pretty simple bounty had turned into a rather difficult one. The location Din was sent initially was inaccurate, and then when he arrived at the actual, correct location, it was a trap. His target had friends, and it soon became an ambush. The Mandalorian was still capable of taking them down, but they put up a pretty good fight, and before knocking out all of them, one had managed to stab Din in his side.

        Which lead you to now.

        Din was in your arms. He had stumbled into the Razor Crest, clutching his side with one arm and dragging the quarry with the other. You'd almost lost control in that moment, but you knew you had to stay calm for him. You rushed up to him, and quickly aided him in throwing the bounty into carbonite. Then, you made quick work of laying him down on your make shift medical bench, and asking him where the pain was coming from. Your eyes were wide with panic: he could probably tell. You were terrible at hiding emotions when it came to him, and you'd never exactly done this before. Sure, you'd patched yourself up more times than you can count: but someone else? Someone you cared about? Now that was something else entirely.

        "Din," you cooed gently, trying not to make his pain worse, "I'm going to need to remove some of your armour. Is that okay? Is... Is that breaking your Creed?"

        "I- No," Din huffed out, trying to be kind to you despite his situation.

        "Okay, good... Good... I need you to lay as still as you can okay. I'm just going to..."

        You don't know why you start narrating what you're doing. Maybe you thought it would put him at ease if he knew what was going on. Maybe it was making things worse.

        Gently, you peeled away his armour from his torso, and observed the large cut down his side. You pressed your hand against him, and Din winced in pain. Your hand retracted quickly, and you ran to the first aid kit kept in the Crest. You opened the bag, and began searching around for the bacta patch and disinfectant that you needed. Your heart was beating really quickly, and you could feel Din's pulse getting weaker. His breathing shallowed. You steadied your shaking hands as you brought the disinfectant up to his wound.

        "Din," you murmur, "Are you still with me? Din... I'm sorry this is going to hurt."

        You saw his head nod slowly, and you began cleaning the wound as carefully as you can. He winced in pain and his hand shot up; he grabbed out to you, and his hand was wrapped around your upper arm before you knew what was happening. Despite the situation, his touch (even through his glove) surprised you. Your heart rate began to increase, and your face felt hot.

        "I'm nearly done now," you promise him, "I'm just putting on the bacta patch and then you can rest."

        "T-Thank you, cyar'ika," Din replied, his grip on your arm faltering before letting go.

        You took his hand and squeezed it gently. Din was weak now but at least his wound has been tended to and he wasn't losing anymore blood. It was only now that the worst of it was over, that you took note of the blood across the ship. This would be one hell of a clean up. First, you washed your hands, and then you gently removed the remainders of Din's armour, save his helmet (of course). You unbuttoned his tunic and swapped it out for one that wasn't covered in blood- and one that didn't have a large hole in it. You like to think that he'd appreciate it.

        With the ship finally cleaned, and Din safe, you crawled into your cot beside the child. Your eyes felt heavy as you held the child close to you: you took one last look at your Mandalorian, before finally falling asleep.

~~~

Din Djarin woke up startled. His hand went to his side, at first, and then across his chest, before ending up resting on his helmet. His eyes scanned the room before settling upon you. His eyes softened; in your arms lay his little womp rat. He was safe, and so were you. Din sighed, relieved that you were both still okay.

        His eyes cast down to the pile of armour beside him: you must've removed it after he'd passed out. He recognised that he was now wearing a new black shirt, and that his old, bloodied one was nowhere to be found. His mind didn't have time to wonder where you'd put it, as the sound of him moving off of the make shift medical bench had caused you to begin to awaken. Your eye sight was blurry for a second, before focusing in on Din. He was up.

        He was up!

        "Din! You're awake!" you exclaim, shaking off any sleepy feeling that still remained.

        "Are you alright?" Din asks, stepping towards you.

        "Am I alright?" you repeat back to him, now also finding your feet, "You get stabbed, come home bloody to me -barely standing I might add- and you ask me if I'm okay?"

        Din shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

        "Never mind me: how are you feeling?"

        "I'm... I'm okay. Better now, thanks to you," Din reassured, reaching over to take the child from you now that he had woken up from his nap.

        "Well, I have been told I have an excellent bed side manor," you tease.

        "Oh yeah?" Din plays along.

        "Really! If it wasn't for this whole bounty hunting gig, I definitely would've been a nurse," you assure confidently; although truthfully at this point in time, you have no interest in taking care of anyone else besides your small found family.

        "You would've made an excellent nurse," Din chuckles.

        It warms your heart: hearing him laugh.

        "I thought you were going to pass out quicker than me at certain points, though," Din continues, "But I'm not dead so you must've done something right."

        "Hey now, Mandalorian: in my defence, I was not expecting you to come back covered in blood and barely conscious. Forgive me if I was a little rusty."

        You hadn't realised how close the two of you had become until now. His body was so close that you could almost feel the heat coming from his body. Or maybe it was yours. You weren't honestly sure at this point, but it was making your face heat up. You shyly looked away from his gaze. Seeing him like this almost felt unnatural. You were so use to him fully covered in armour, that seeing him without all the beskar felt like you were seeing him naked. Despite this, you enjoyed seeing him like this: he felt more human to you now. If he was feeling vulnerable at all, he didn't show it. If you didn't know any better, you'd almost say he enjoyed this new layer of vulnerability because it meant he could feel closer... Closer to you.

        "You're forgiven," he murmurs, his voice low, "Am I forgiven, cyar'ika?"

        "Hm..." you hesitate, teasing him for a second, "I will have to think about that-"

        "-Mesh'la, please," he pretends to beg you, smiling under his helmet; Din's eyes remain on you, almost transfixed as you pretend to ponder the status of his forgiveness.

       "Only if you tell me what m- me- mesh'la means," you whisper in a hushed tone, "Or agree to teach me Mando'a. I have to know what you are saying about me."

       "Only good things," Din replies in the same quiet tone, "Beautiful."

       "Beautiful," you repeat back to him, your heart swelling, "Din you are... Me- mesh'la too."

       You expect him to reply: correct your pronunciation, or joke back with you but the Mandalorian has gone silent. Not an uncomfortable wooden silence. No, it was a warm silence. It felt right, and after a second, you adjusted to the new quietness. You imagine neither of you have had a moment like this in a long time. The silences you were use to only echoed with your hollowness, reflecting your loneliness. But this: this felt right.

       Gently, Din leaned his head on your own. Due to the presence of his helmet, he was careful not to be too forceful, but you soon accepted the gesture, and kept your forehead on his.

       A keldabe kiss.

       That's what you would come to know that as. Although it originally started as slang for a headbutt, it soon became a sign of affection among Mandalorians. Affectionate moments with the Creed felt few and far between, so this was a way around that. And, it was one you quiet enjoyed. Even if you couldn't always touch your Mandalorian in the ways you wanted to, in these moments it didn't seem to matter. Despite the Creed, despite everything, there was no true barrier that could separate you and Din Djarin.

       Your foreheads stay together for a moment longer, before separating. You look up at him, and you know -even without words, even without touch- he is yours, and your are his.

[nukapind]

Just found your writing and I am obsessed! I loved your "Mother Knows Best" work! I thought a similar one with Shinsou Hitoshi would be funny, except it's like Aizawa and Eri trying to play the wingman/woman/child, I'm a sucker for the EraserMic family to be honest! Sorry if this is too specific, have a nice day xx

Little Bird (Shinsou x Reader)

I know its been a very long while since I’ve posted anything, I am in a bit of a rut and haven’t written in months but I was able to get a little bit of inspiration today!

In the meantime, requests are open and this was crossposted to my AO3.

(g/n reader, gender is not specified)

__

“Your cheeks are red.” “I’m just cold, it’s fine.” Hitoshi grumbled, shuffling Eri in his arms to knock his free hand against the door of the Class 1A dormhouse. Eri looked down at her sweater before shyly back up at Hitoshi with her wide eyes. “Do you want my sweater?” He held back a snort at the thought before shaking his head. “I think I’ll be fine, thank you though.” A small hum left her, and he shuffled her in his arms slightly. It was a miracle to Shinsou how far Eri had come under Aizawa’s watch. She used to be terrified of Hitoshi at the beginning, not that he blamed her.

And funnily enough, now she seemed to prefer him over Mirio or Izuku.

The door opened to reveal Izuku, Uraraka, and Tsuyu with wide smiles. “Eri! I’m so glad to see you again!” At the sound of Deku’s voice, Eri’s grip on Hitoshi’s shirt instantly tightened.

Here we go again.

“Eri, you gotta let go, I have to go practice with Aizawa.” “I can go with you, please?” Sighing through his nose, he shook his head. “C’mon, what if I drop by the store and get some apples?” She seemed to ponder it for a second, before shaking her head. This little clingy stage she was going through was simultaneously his most and least favorite.

“Well aren’t you a good big brother?”

He immediately stiffened at the cooing that came from behind the trio, your voice making his cheeks burn slightly. “Hitoshi and Mr. Aizawa took me to the park, and he pushed me on the swings. I went so high, it was fun!” Eri grinned, the feeling of your eyes focused intently on him made him cringe.

But then again, your attention on him didn’t feel terrible. He hadn’t felt this watched since the sports festival, with all the audience and cameras watching him�� even then that did seem less stressful than your eyes focused on him.

“Toshi, you’re red again.” Eri innocently mentioned, patting his cheeks slightly. Taking advantage of the distraction, he quickly set her down with a sigh before crouching down to her level. “I’ll pick you up in a couple of hours. Get Midoriya to call if anything happens, okay?” She immediately nodded with a smile.

“Aw c’mon Shinsou, do you not trust us?” Your smile was bright as your fingers combed through Eri’s hair gently, and until that moment he’d never been this jealous over a child. “I know better than to trust you guys, don’t get her into any trouble.” He kept his voice flat despite the anxiousness in his chest. “I’ll make sure she stays out of trouble.” Reluctantly he nodded, getting up from his crouch, nudging Eri inside.

“Don’t forget my apples!” He sighed, smiling slightly as the door shut in front of him. Eri really had come so far these last few months, already becoming much more vocal with her wants than she had ever been since he’d met her.

If only he could be the same.

—

Practice was brutal: hand to hand combat was never his favorite and Aizawa was definitely exploiting his lack of speed. With practice and running off campus to get the promised fruit, the sun was already setting and the only sound was the buzzing of the lights. 

UA was peaceful for once, his mind itself was peaceful for once. He’d been promised his spot in the hero course, he had a mentor teaching him, and he had Eri to bring some brightness in his life. Then again, it wasn’t quite everything he wanted.

Everything he was wanting was sitting right there on the steps of the 1A dormhouse, holding onto a sleeping Eri tightly.

“You two should be inside, you know better L/n.” He hoped his voice hid the excitement he felt as you stood up, his arms instantly taking Eri into his own arms, her head resting on his shoulders. “Well I would have waited inside, but you were running late and she got worried about you.” He softened ever so slightly, a grunt leaving him in acknowledgment. “So why is it you out here instead of Midoriya?” “Would it be bad to say I wanted to see you?” That got the flush back on his face and neck, mouth pressed into a thin line at that. 

Would it be so bad if he liked that answer? Would it be bad to say he wanted to see you as well?

“Do what you want, I have to get Eri home.” He regretted the words as soon as he said them, but they didn’t seem to deter you all that much— seeing as you were already following right behind him as he started to make his way to the teachers’ dorms. “I’ll come with!” Was everyone in 1A this friendly? 

Of course, he didn’t mind it all too much when it was you tagging along with him.

A comfortable silence washed over the two of you, the only interruption being the sound of Eri’s quiet snoring as she snoozed away. Footsteps on the concrete and the light breeze rolling in only made his inner anxieties quell. “You know… Eri really adores you, you’re all she’d talk about today.” You hummed, eyes darting over to take in the sight of Shinsou holding the girl he practically thought of as a little sister. If you’d known better, it almost seemed like he was taking on a more fatherly role than just a caretaker. 

“She’s not good at keeping secrets you know.” You cheekily added, making him nearly stop in his tracks. He had no secrets, or at least no secrets that he’d told Eri. His own eyes glanced at you quickly before focusing back on the path before him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He lamely mumbled, ignoring the feeling of you watching him.

“Well… a little bird told me that you like it when I’m around, and that’s the reason you drop her off every Sunday.” Hitoshi grimaced, in hindsight maybe he shouldn’t have always jumped at the opportunity to go to the 1A dorms, and he especially should have hidden it more from Eri.

But he didn’t, and now he had two options: tell the truth, or ruin any chance he had with you.

“What about it?” He could feel the grin on your face, your hand carefully linking around his arm as to not interrupt his hold on Eri. “I like spending time with you too Shinsou.” His corner of his lips quirked up slightly as your body pressed into his side.

“Good to know.”

Being late was worth the scolding he’d gotten from Aizawa.

Masterlist

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 10

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 6,179

Warnings: nothing new

A/N: Hey it’s me, daddy! ...well apparently. I really gotta take a chill pill... these chapters are getting way too long. But anyway, I hope you enjoy it, my babies are soft and sensitive :’) Thank you for reading, I truly appreciate it!

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

You looked around the bar while you sipped your drink, a 12 dollar grapefruit juice and club soda cocktail. There weren’t many people at one in the afternoon, mostly suits and wealthy tourists, though you half expected to find Natasha hiding in the back with a hat, a large pair of sunglasses and an unfolded newspaper.

From the rug to the chairs and armchairs, everything was either black or white. You ran your index finger over the intricate calligraphy on the back of your chair. It was a number: 5.

Turning back around, you glanced at the clock and mentally cursed yourself for always being so early. You hated being late, and arriving less than ten minutes early counted as late in your book. You were nervous to see Wanda after all this time.

You hadn’t been expecting her to stay at a hotel on the Upper East Side. You wondered how she could afford it, but decided it was none of your business.

“I had a feeling you’d be here already.” That familiar voice brought back fond childhood memories and other not so pleasant memories. “You’re always early.”

You didn’t move a muscle as Wanda took a seat next to you, number 6. She signalled the bartender and ordered a latte. Meanwhile you played with your straw, trying to subtly steal a glance at her.

“What did you do to your hair?” you asked with a grimace, turning your body toward her.

Without looking at you, she raised her brows in mild exasperation. “I dyed it.”

“It’s orange.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I get it. You’re angry with me.”

“Oh,” you drawled out. “I’m well past angry. I was angry four years ago, now I just don’t care anymore.”

“You don’t care about me anymore?”

“No, and it’s not like you cared about me, or Scott, or Okoye.” You paused. “Or mom.”

Wanda had a shocked look on her face as she finally met your eyes. “That’s low. You have no idea-”

“No, you have no idea what it was like to live in that house after you all left. You have absolutely no idea,” you said, enunciating each word between your teeth, “because you weren’t there, because you left us –you left me. Six years, Wanda.”

She looked away and you saw her bottom lip quiver. She clenched her jaw and took a small sip of her latte. You instantly felt bad for snapping at her. You didn’t like confrontation. Hated arguing. You internalized. It was difficult for you to acknowledge that you had a right to express your feelings.

“I, uh,” Wanda said, then cleared her throat. “I knew you weren’t going to welcome me with open arms, and I know what I did was wrong, but I’d like us to be a family again. If it’s not too late.”

“It’s not too late,” you said with a small sigh. “But I’m not going to instantly forgive you just because you’re back.”

“I know.”

“What made you come back?”

She fiddled with her fingers in her lap and you noticed the ring on her fourth finger. It was a beautiful vintage-inspired ring made of black rhodium with an ornate cadenza halo in the centre.

A terrible thought occurred to you, making your stomach twist painfully. You didn’t know her at all. Not anymore. You had missed so much of your sister’s life. Or more accurately; she had cut you out of her life, and it was painful.

“I went to London,” Wanda said, unaware of your inner turmoil. “I saw Uncle Michael. He asked me if I was here to see mom, and I said, ‘No, mom’s in New York.’ And then he told me-” she tilted her head to look at you “-he told me mom was sick, that you and Okoye put her in a nursing home not far from his apartment. I didn’t believe him, so he took me to mom and she-” She paused, staring straight ahead as if she was caught in the memory

“She looked at you like she didn’t know you,” you said, knowing exactly where the story was going because it had happened to you too.

“Yeah,” Wanda breathed out, tears in her eyes. “I never felt so alone. They told her I was her daughter, but she didn’t recognize me. She kept asking Uncle Michael who I was, then she got mad because she was adamant she never had children.”

“I know,” you said sympathetically.

“I wanted to see you and apologize for not being the sister you deserve. For not being here when you needed me most.”

“Where were you all this time?” you asked, practically begged for an answer.

Her shoulders tensed and she straightened up in her seat. “Just travelling.”

“I know, I got your postcards.” You nodded toward the engagement ring on her finger. “I guess I should say congratulations.”

“Mhh,” she said running the pad of her thumb over the diamond. “It’s funny I never thought I’d fall in love and get married. I don’t need a man in my life to make me feel whole. Mom raised us alone, we’re independent and strong.” A small smile graced her lips. “But I found someone sweet and charming, someone who makes me feel safe and calm.”

“Are you writing your vows?”

“Har har,” she deadpanned, rolling her eyes, a faint smile on her lips. You’d missed her, missed your banter. “You haven’t changed.”

“If you say so,” you said in a sombre voice. You looked at the clock above the bar. “Listen, I have to go but I’m happy you found someone. I’d like to meet him one day. I bet he doesn’t know about your Baby Spice phase.”

You jumped off the bar stool and picked up your jacket. Wanda turned in her seat, catching your wrist as you looped your purse over your shoulder.

“Can you stay a little longer?” she asked, looking at you with pleading eyes. “Just a minute.”

“Okay.”

She let go of your wrist. “Scott’s been released last month. I talked to him on the phone and asked him to fly to New York. He should be here tomorrow. I also talked to Okoye, I asked her to come here. We have things to discuss. I know things will never be the same, not after Pietro, not after mom, but we can try. We’re still a family.”

“Great,” you replied. Your word came out with more force than you had intended, but you didn’t apologize. They were all coming back for Wanda but when your mother needed help, you were all alone.

“Yeah,” Wanda whispered, her eyes cast down. “I was thinking we could all meet up for dinner. Okoye’s bringing her boyfriend so if you... if you have a partner-”

“I’m single.”

“Oh, uh, you can bring Natasha if you want.”

“No, thanks.” You reached into your purse and pulled out one of your business cards. “Text me, okay? I really gotta go.”

She smiled as she read your card. “You’re an artist? Splotchy, I’m so proud of you!”

That damn nickname... “I still haven't found a gallery. Not many people want to represent an unknown artist but I’m not giving up.”

“You never give up,” Wanda said with a gentle smile. “That’s why I love you.”

You took a cab to Natasha’s apartment. It had been three weeks since Sam moved to D.C., and Nat was having a hard time finding a job in her field.

She didn’t want to find another sugar daddy. It seemed ridiculous since she was still carrying a massive torch for Sam. She had saved enough money to live on until she could find a job and a new place to live.

“I’m officially done,” she grumbled in lieu of a greeting. “Job hunting sucks. New York sucks. Life sucks.”

“Pretty bold statement.”

You entered the apartment and plopped down next to her on the sofa. With a groan, she wrestled out of her blouse and threw it on the floor, leaving her in a simple white spaghetti-strap shirt and a pair of black trousers.

“I hate wearing a suit.”

“You look good in them.”

“I know,” she cried out. “I hate wearing suits when it’s all for nothing. I’m not the boss, I’m no one. Just another doofus with a college degree standing here like-” she cupped her hands together, as if she was holding a bowl, and looked at you with a pout. “Please, sir, I want some more.”

“I don’t understand why you didn’t get the job,” you said, biting back a laugh. “I would hire you for that spot on Oliver Twist impression.”

She laughed. “I think I lost my fire. People used to be scared of me. Remember? I miss that.”

“You’re a psycho,” you snorted, using her shoulder as a pillow. “If it’s any consolation, Bucky’s terrified of you.”

“Good.”

“Hey!”

She pressed her cheek against the top of your head and sighed. You stayed in that position for a few more seconds before you told Natasha what had happened with Wanda. She offered to go with you to your family gathering but you insisted you wanted to go alone.

“I gotta go,” you said. “Bucky’s taking me to dinner.”

“Oh,” she cooed, “is he finally going to propose?”

“That’s very funny,” you deadpanned. “I was starting to feel cooped up in our apartment so we decided to go out. Have fun, y’know.”

“Our apartment,” Natasha repeated with a lopsided smirk before she burst into a fit of giggles.

“Whatever,” you grumbled, embarrassed.

“That’s cute.” She pinched your cheek and you batted her hand away. “You should talk to him.”

“Don’t start.”

“What? I’m just saying-”

“Natasha,” you cut her off. “Stop asking me to talk to him. It’s not going to happen, and it’s giving me so much anxiety. You couldn’t talk to Sam, what makes you think I can talk to Bucky?”

She looked at you for a long moment. “I know you love him.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, considering. You had never really been in love before but falling in love with Bucky had been so easy. And it was particularly scary because you had never been in a relationship, only flings.

“I do,” you admitted quietly. Saying it out loud was both freeing and terrifying.

“Don’t lose him.”

You knew Natasha missed Sam, she’d told you about it, but she wasn’t the kind of woman who let others see her pain. She confided in you and her friend, Clint, but other than that she rarely shared her problems with others.

Her bony shoulder was digging uncomfortably into your cheek so you shifted and let your head rest against her chest. She started playing with your hair. “Have you heard from Sam?”

“Not since he left,” she replied, then glanced down at you. “Have you?”

She tried to sound casual so you played along and acted like you couldn’t hear her heart jackhammering in her chest. “He called the landline the other day. Bucky wasn’t home so I answered.”

“The landline?” Natasha repeated with a scoff. “Your husband is old.”

“He asked if you were okay,” you said, choosing to ignore her comment. “You should call him.”

She stayed quiet for so long, you began to worry. You tilted your head to look at her, she had a faraway look in her eyes. You didn’t want to break her trance but she was starting to scare you.

You booped her chin and almost immediately a soft smile touched her lips. She cleared her throat, then checked her watch.

“You should go, you’re going to be late.”

“It’s okay,” you said. You couldn’t leave, not when she looked so sad. You knew Bucky would understand. “We can order some pizza, binge watch something on Netflix and go out for ice cream later. Like we used to.”

She laughed softly. “That sounds amazing. I kinda want to be alone tonight though, and Bucky’s waiting for you. I’m fine, I promise.” She looked down at you with a kind smile. “Rain check?”    

“Absolutely.”

With a heavy heart, you left Natasha and started walking to the restaurant. The clouds above you were low and dark, masking the setting sun. You smiled, remembering the day you and Bucky went to the park.

You had wanted to go paint outside but you got caught in a rainstorm on the way home. As rain poured down on the both of you, you caught Bucky’s hand and tried to run to the nearest subway entrance but he didn’t budge.

He stayed in the middle of the street, still holding your hand, and grinned at you while people rushed around you. His hair was plastered to his head, little rivulets of water running down his nose. He smiled at you, bright and playful, and you almost melted on the spot.

What’s the rush, sweet angel?

When you got home, you both changed into dry clothes and sat in front of the fireplace with a bowl of soup. He looked adorable with his slightly damp hair, a few big curls flopping down onto his forehead. When you started sneezing, he adjusted the blanket around you.

The next day, you felt a little feverish and Bucky took care of you. He pressed his lips to your forehead, checking your temperature. Your mother used to do that too. You doubted the accuracy of that little test but you couldn’t care less. It felt incredibly comforting. They should teach it in med school.

Bucky was waiting for you in front of the restaurant. The weather was warmer now, and you were pleased to see that his maroon bomber jacket was back. It was a rerun of the night you had met him.

“Hey you,” he said, dropping a quick kiss on your cheek. “How did it go with Wanda?”

“Good, I guess. It could have been way worse.” You paused to look at him. “You okay? You look a little nervous. We don’t have to-”

“I’m okay,” he chuckled, smoothing his hand down his jacket, lightly patting his pocket. “Shall we?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Promise me you’re not over-exerting yourself again.”

He stood in front of you, smiling kindly. “I promise.”

It had been a while since he had a panic attack, but they were always impressive and you couldn’t stand the thought of him trapped in his own mind, battling his demons alone.

You must have been silent too long because Bucky cupped the side of your face and said, “Thank you for taking care of me, angel. But I promise you, I’m fine. So what do you say? Wanna have dinner with me?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him as he flashed you a cocky grin.

The restaurant was a quaint little place in Midtown with curved black leather booths lining the walls and simple cutlery. There were books everywhere, arranged neatly on the shelves along the walls. The place was well-lit, yet still cosy and calm.

Despite the hour, the restaurant wasn’t crowded. There was a couple, probably in their sixties, enjoying their meals together. Several people were eating alone, a book opened next to their plate, and a few others were browsing the shelves looking for something to read.

While you ate, you filled Bucky in on your conversation with Wanda. He didn’t interrupt you, he listened to you ramble on about how much you didn’t want to go to her reunion dinner.

“You can invite them over for dinner,” he said. You almost choked on your food. “Call me crazy but I think you’d feel more at ease if you were in a familiar environment.”

He had a point. You had no idea what that night had in store for you, and you definitely didn’t want to cause a scene in a restaurant. You weren’t one for airing your dirty laundry in public.

“I know that our... um, friendship is a little unconventional but I’d like to meet them.”

“Really? Wait,” you said, spotting a bit of tomato sauce on his chin. “You have something on your chin.” You reached over and used your napkin to wipe it away. “You eat like a wolf.”

“Mhh thanks.” He swallowed his mouthful of pasta and washed it down with a gulp of water. “To be honest with you, I’m a sucker for family reunions. I love watching people’s faces when they see someone they haven’t seen in a very long time.”

“I’m not sure it’ll be a happy one.”

“Well, then you could probably use some moral support,” he said. “And I’m curious if they ever gave you a silly nickname. Or maybe they’ll share some funny anecdotes.”

You stopped mid-bite and swallowed quickly, your eyes widening in fear. You couldn’t let that happen, Scott and Okoye would jump at the chance to tease you. “Oh, no, no, no! You are never meeting them.”

He laughed. “I bet you were a cute kid. I imagine you in some paint-stained overalls, hula hooping through the 90s, listening to the Spice Girls and watching Saturday morning cartoons with a bowl of cereal or a plate of pancakes.”

“You’re not too far off.” You grinned.

“You don’t have to make a decision right now,” he said in a more serious tone. “But think about it, okay?”

Inviting your siblings and their partners over for dinner was a bad idea. You could already picture their faces upon seeing Bucky. It would turn into an interrogation, and it would be absolutely unbearable.

But then again, you didn’t think you could endure the reunion without him.

The waiter came over to collect your dirty plates and asked if there would be anything else. He recited the dessert specialties and you ordered something that sounded both extravagant and mouth-watering.

“I have something for you,” Bucky broke the silence between you.

You responded with a curious yet playful frown and a tilt of your head. He glanced down at the table for a second as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a slim jewellery box.

He placed it on the table next to his glass and let his fingertips linger on the lid, caressing it slowly as he hesitated. Then with a smooth flick of his wrist, he slid the box across the table. Your eyes flickered between the box and Bucky’s worried expression.

Inside the box, nestled in cream velvet, was a gold artist’s palette pendant with a delicate chain. The pendant had two paint brushes sticking out of the palette and four tiny stones representing the colours waiting to be mixed; ruby, sapphire, emerald and topaz.

It was incredibly tiny, about the length of two staples, but it made the details even more impressive. You could tell it was an old piece. There were light signs of wear and the design reminded you of the 1930s. It looked full of stories from previous owners. A testimony of love, passion and devotion.

“Oh,” you gasped as if all the air had been punched out of you. Bucky straightened up and jerked forward in his seat, his eyes round with anticipation. “Oh,” you repeated dumbly, at a loss for words.

“I saw it in the window of an antique shop on the way here,” he said.

That was a lie.

He had spent weeks searching for the perfect charm. He had a very specific idea of what he wanted to buy. Until one day, he found it. It reminded him of you; delicate, discreet, irreplaceable.

“Bucky,” you sighed, spellbound. “It’s... it’s beautiful.”

“It reminded me of you.” He met your eyes, smiled, and extended his hand in your direction. “Can I?”

Without hesitation you removed the necklace from its box and gave it to Bucky. After living with him for about six months, you knew there was nothing he couldn’t do. Even fasten your necklace with one hand.

He stood up and rounded the table, sitting next to you on the booth. You turned, giving him your back as he slipped the necklace around your neck. You held the pendant in the little dip between your collarbones at the base of your throat and let the ends of the chain dangle down your back.

“I noticed you haven’t been painting a lot since-” Bucky trailed off. Since you had a meltdown in your studio, since you realized your art was not good enough. Since you realized your dreams were too big to accomplish.

You looked over your shoulder and watched him fumble with the spring ring clasp. You couldn’t see what he was doing but he seemed entirely focused on the task at hand.

“Inspiration is a fickle thing, it comes and goes,” he continued. “I worry about you. You put too much pressure on yourself visiting galleries and trying to match their vision. I want you to remember who you are. You’re an artist. Never doubt yourself or your skills.”

He secured the chain around your neck and adjusted the necklace so that the little palette fell nicely above the neckline of your sweater. You stared at him wide eyed and amazed, and he smiled tenderly at you.

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “I’ll never take it off.”

“My pleasure, angel.”

“I really love it but it’s too much,” you said as he returned to his seat. “I don’t want you to think I’m after your money. I’m so grateful for your help, you do so much for me already.”

“I know you’re not after my money, but it’s mine and I’ll spend it as I please. I know you like gifts with meaning. And all I want is to make you happy.”

“You want to make me happy?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“Of course, I do.”

It was a foreign concept to you, you could hardly comprehend it. He wasn’t your childhood best friend, he wasn’t your brother or your mother’s brother, and yet he wanted to be the one who put a smile on your face.

You weren’t used to random acts of kindness. You spent most of your life taking care of others, making sure they had everything they needed, you forgot what it was like to feel loved.

And it all became so much clearer.

You knew in your heart that your feelings for Bucky weren’t one sided. Not when he looked at you like that. Not when he touched you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

There was a mutual, yet silent, understanding between you. This is good. Let’s not make things complicated. Even though we both want to.  And you abided by that unspoken rule, not wanting to make things more complicated.

Your eyes were overflowing with tears. When a tear escaped, you felt it bounce on your cheekbone before it landed near your pendant. You rolled your eyes at yourself and smiled.

“Why am I always crying?” you said, laughing a little. “I’m not sad, I swear. These are happy tears.” Bucky’s smile was calm and sure. “Wait, I’m just gonna-” you trailed off, wiping the back of your hand under your nose with an embarrassed laugh.

“You’re beautiful.”

You lay in bed that night, replaying those three words in your head until you fell asleep.

It took you a couple of days to come to term with the realization that your feelings weren’t one sided. A little voice in your head tried to protect your heart, it said: Don’t get your hopes up. Remember what happened last time.

But that voice was quiet, almost too quiet to hear.

Against your better judgement, you agreed to invite your siblings over for dinner. All you had to do was call Wanda’s hotel and ask the hotel staff to pass along a message. Easy-peasy.

Well, in theory, because it turned out to be stressed depressed lemon zest.

There were things Bucky didn’t know about you and your family, things that you had intentionally kept from him. One of these things was your brother’s criminal record.

Bucky had asked you a few times what Scott did for a living and you always gave him the same rehearsed answer. “Scott has a master’s degree in electrical engineering but he’s between jobs at the moment.” It wasn’t a total lie but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

You finally decided to tell him everything.

Scott was a thief. Before Cassie was born, and thanks to his computer skills, he used to steal from criminals and give back to those they had stolen from. He promised his wife, Maggie, that he would stop after Cassie’s birth.

He took up a job at VistaCorp but noticed that the company was overcharging their customers. Thinking that it was a coding error, he fixed it before his boss, Geoff Zorick, ordered him to change it back. It made him realize that the company was intentionally overcharging their customers.

He was fired soon after. Maggie begged him not to get involved, she begged him to think of his family but Scott didn’t listen. He broke into the company’s headquarters, hacked their system and redistributed the stolen money. Then he broke into Zorick’s house, stole a bunch of stuff and drove Zorick’s car into the pool.

He got five years.

Bucky was a little shocked but he took these new revelations well.

“People make mistakes,” he said. “He paid for his mistake, and not seeing his little girl for five years is punishment enough.” He bumped his shoulder against yours and grinned. “He sounds like a chaotic Robin Hood. I can’t wait to meet him.”

You chuckled. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Nope.”

“So... you’re not going to hide your valuables in a closet somewhere?”

“I would but I’m not sure you’d like to be stuck in the closet all night.” You rolled your eyes and huffed, thinking he wasn’t taking you seriously. He laughed quietly. “The only valuable thing I own is the bookmark my niece made for me, everything else is meaningless. And I don’t judge people on their worst mistakes.”

“You sound like Natasha,” you chuckled lowly. “But I’m glad you think that way.”

“That being said, they have a lot of apologizing and making up to do. They left you all alone. It isn’t right.”

You squirmed in your seat. “Argh, I don’t know. It’s in the past now, I don’t want to dwell on it. We were all miserable back then, and I’m not exactly blameless here.”

Bucky gave you a puzzled look. “You took care of your mom when she was sick, you sold your childhood home. You found your mom a nursing home where she gets the best treatment possible. You put your dreams on hold to pay her hospital bills. You did everything you could.”

“No, that’s not true,” you replied, biting your bottom lip.

You tried to find the courage to say it out loud. It was something that ate away at your soul. Your biggest mistake.

“I should have known something was wrong with her,” you said, rushing the words out. “At first she started misplacing things like her car keys, her glasses or the remote. She always had a good excuse, like was tired or stressed, but I should have known.”

“I misplace my keys all the time, angel. Sometimes it doesn’t mean anything. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“She’s my mom, I’ve known her all my life. I should have noticed something was wrong. If I had, maybe she’d still be with us, living in our old house.”

“C’mere,” he said, extending his arm toward you. You didn’t hesitate, you abandoned your seat on the sofa and wrapped your arms around him, your face buried in his chest. “I understand why you feel that way,” he said, stroking your hair. “But you did everything you could. You didn’t fail her. Alzheimer is... well it’s a sneaky disease. There are a lot of things we don’t understand. It’s unfair to blame yourself for something completely out of your control.”

“Maybe,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his shirt. “But it still hurts.”

“I know,” he cooed, his fingernails grazing your scalp. “I know, my angel.”

You stayed like that for some time, your cheek pressed against his shirt. You focused on the calm rhythm of his breathing and tried to match it. He gently ran his fingers up and down your back, calming you almost instantly.

You were terrified to see your siblings again. Despite Bucky’s reassuring words, a part of you still believed that you could have done more to help your mom, and you were afraid your siblings would feel the same.

“It’s going to be okay,” Bucky said, seemingly reading your thoughts. “I won’t let them belittle your efforts.”

The next day, you called Wanda’s hotel and left a message with the receptionist. Wanda called you back a few hours later, saying that she would love to have dinner at your place instead of going out.

She sounded surprised, and you could tell she had a lot of questions, but she knew she wasn’t in your good graces yet so she simply told you that she couldn’t wait to see your apartment and spend the evening with you.

Meanwhile Bucky was having some sort of nervous breakdown.

A few days before the party, he started to obsessively clean his apartment. Every single room had that distinctive lemony scent, his homemade disinfectant, except your room. It was still a line he refused to cross no matter how strong the urge might be.

He often had those spells but they usually didn’t last more than a few hours. You could see the tears in his eyes and the disgust on his face; grimaces that had been triggered by the realization that he still couldn’t control his need to constantly clean and tidy. His OCD had been dormant, not gone.

You knew it was hard for him to meet new people. He had offered to invite your siblings because he knew it would make you feel more at ease. He didn’t care about his own needs. This man was willing to endure anything for you. How could you not fall in love with him?

You let him clean. You knew from past experience that it wasn’t something he could control and getting involved usually did more harm than good. You made sure he knew you were there and that you were not judging him in any way.

He felt so physically and emotionally drained afterwards that you simply held him in your arms until he fell asleep.

On the day of the party, you were chopping dried apricots in the kitchen while Bucky was making sure the chicken pieces weren’t sticking to the bottom of the pan.

You had wanted to order dinner from the restaurant down the street, and Bucky wanted to cook. You told him that cooking a meal for seven people was pretty stressful but he simply shrugged.

“I can do it, angel.”

“I know but you don’t have to do it.”

“Yeah, I do,” he replied with a sad smile.

You remembered him telling you that his ex-girlfriend often babied him in front of her friends and that it always made him feel weak and pathetic. He wanted to prove himself. He wanted to prove that, even with only one arm, he was able to cook a meal for an entire family.

“Okay, fine,” you reluctantly agreed. “But you’re not doing this alone.” He opened his mouth to protest but you raised your hand and touched a finger to his lips. “You can’t change my mind. I’ll be your sous-chef, and that’s final.”

So you ended up cutting vegetables for him. He made two tagines, one with meat and one with vegetables, in case anyone had any allergies or dietary restrictions.

Once the kitchen was spotless, you both went to your rooms to get ready for the night. It didn’t take you long so you checked on the tagines and waited for Bucky. The smell of harissa and coriander wrapped around you like a comforting hug.

You stole a dinner roll and checked the time on your phone. Nearly seven. A wave of anxiety rolled through the pit of your stomach. You took a deep, calming breath and decided to go check on Bucky.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you heard a deep, frustrated groan followed by a whine. Stifling a giggle, you tiptoed down the hallway towards his bathroom.

“C’mon, stay put or I’ll cut you!”

“Do you often threaten your hair?” you asked, leaning against the door frame. He gasped and jerked away from the sink. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Is everything okay?”

“I can’t do anything with my hair,” he complained. “I’m this close to shave the whole damn thing.”

You pushed yourself off the door frame and moved toward him. “Mhh, why not. A buzz-cut would make you look super dangerous.”

“You think so?” he frowned.

“Yeah,” you replied enthusiastically as you perched yourself on the counter by the sink. “A buzz-cut and a beard. Now that’s a look.”

He ran his hand over the dark stubble on his cheeks. “I already have the beard.”

“You’re halfway there.” You watched him consider what you were offering. “You know what, never mind. Your hair is too pretty to cut.”

“I should cut it though. It’s getting too long, I can’t style it.”

“Oh, poor you with your thick, fluffy hair,” you teased.

“It’s a gift, and also a curse,” he sighed with a whimsical grimace.

You laughed. “Come here, I’ll help you tame the monster on your head.”

He chuckled as he stepped between your parted legs. You took the hair dryer and a comb from the counter and started working on his hair. Despite its messy appearance, the comb ran smoothly through the strands.

“I think we need a safe word tonight,” you said while you worked.

“A safe word?” he repeated, confused. “Why would we need one?”

“Just in case,” you replied with a shrug. “I love my siblings but they can be quite a handful. So if you’re tired or if you feel overwhelmed, you just say the word and I’ll politely ask them to leave.”

“All right. Same goes for you.” He made a face. “What’s the safe word?”

“I don’t know,” you said, your eyes focused on his hair. “Flamingo?” You pulled back to look at him. “I saw an amazing documentary about baby flamingos the other day. See? It works.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, laughing. “Flamingo it is.”

You picked up his hair gel and applied some to his hair.

“There you go,” you said, smoothing the hair over his temples before sliding your fingers down the sculpted curve of his cheekbones. “Ready to break some hearts.”

It was a joke, but your voice came out breathy and small. Bucky didn’t say a word. He pressed himself closer to you, and you resisted the urge to wrap your legs around him.

He rested his hand on your thigh, then slid it from your thigh to your waist and lingered there for a few seconds. He gazed into your eyes for a moment; careful, cautious. You cupped his face between your hands, feeling the bristle on his cheeks against your palms. It was rough against your sensitive skin.

He slid his hand up your side, fingers passing over your ribs, and you let out a gasping sigh as he rested his hand over your heart.

“Did I break your heart, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice low.

“Just cracked.”

He cupped the back of your neck and massaged lightly while he looked at you longingly. He continued to stare at you as you moved your hands to his chest, feeling the strong thud of his heart beneath your palm.

“I-uh,” he started, then licked his lips. “Angel, I-”

The intercom buzzed loudly, awakening the two of you from your trance. Bucky took a step back and closed his eyes. You were glad you were sitting, because your legs felt unusually weak.

“You ready?” he asked, breathless.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you nodded.

You followed Bucky to the kitchen and answered the intercom, giving Wanda the apartment number. Bucky busied himself setting the table, unable to look you in the eye. You didn’t know what to say.

Finally, he stopped moving around and faced you.

“Who am I tonight? Who do you want me to be?”

You had anticipated his question. After all it was a legitimate question to ask giving the nature of your relationship.

“Just you,” you told him. You were tired of lies and half-truths.

A knock at the door startled you.

You opened the door, your hands shaking uncontrollably. You couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of Wanda, Okoye and Scott standing in front of you, each with a bottle of wine. There were two men behind them, both looking extremely uncomfortable.

“Hey Splotchy, long time no see, right?”

Part 11

[rivendellsstuff]

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 | Because Grisha Jaeger had placed a lot of expectations on all his children, but especially on (Y/N).

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1790;

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: Mentions of canon-typical violence. Inspired by the song “Brother“ by Kodaline; and, yes, that is part of a story that I will never publish.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hello! This is the second time I have ventured into writing a story in English. I hope, with all my heart, that I am managing to evolve and that the text is understandable. If you spot a misspelled word or anything else, feel free to let me know.

────── ▎She had no other pleasure that morning than to walk barefoot on the grass, still damp from the light drizzle that had occurred the night before.

She was lightly shaking a small basket, which she had made herself the year before from the thinnest branches of a cherry tree, while she sang a quiet melody among the bushes and trees that began to surround her. It was a very hot and humid afternoon. On the way to the apple tree, the light was so intense that she shielded her eyes.

The aroma of ripe apples began to gather strength around her. With her fingertips, she gently caressed the fruits she loved. They were ready to be picked, and she smiled, satisfied.

A slight rustling from the right side caught the attention of Grisha Jaeger's eldest daughter, startling her, causing her eyes to quickly search for the source of such.

It was Mikasa.

Her gray dress was a shade darker than her eyes and her black hair shone in the sunlight, her hands closed around her red scarf. She knew it was Mikasa's habit to do this to make sure it was always hanging around her neck. Somehow, it seemed to calm her.

''Hey,'' (Y/N) greeted the younger girl. ''Is everything okay?''

At the present moment, she barely spoke to her adopted sister, although everyone seemed charmed by her. Mikasa was an incredibly intelligent and strong child, no doubt she had managed to escape a terrible situation, the mere mention of which made (Y/N)'s stomach clench and her heart soar in her chest. The most remembered mark on the girl's personality, however, was her incredible sense of loyalty to Eren. Of this, anyone who had spent at least two days with her could tell.

And, yes, it was true that the two did not know each other very well, but in light of the short time they had been together, she had found out enough to know that Mikasa was real and part of the family.

''Yes,'' Mikasa answered, shyly, after a minute of silence. ''May I... accompany you?

''Oh, I don't see why not,'' the older woman smiled tenderly.

The two sisters raised their eyes to the apple trees and began picking them by the bunches. The sun was high enough to illuminate the whole place, although its light was in the treetops. A very beautiful and welcoming place. Beside her, Mikasa seemed to think the same, with a small smile on her face and barely blinking her little eyes, wanting to memorize every detail. Even under the intense heat, fatigue didn't seem to discourage either of them.

''Amazing, isn't it?'', (Y/N) inquired to the younger girl, who blinked twice before turning to her. ''Here, hold this.''

Mikasa nodded and held up the small basket.

As (Y/N) tried to balance on the higher branches, Mikasa brought one of the red fruits to her lips, tasting the acidic freshness in her mouth, and her eyes narrowed at the slight acidity that characterized them, while her ears didn't seem to want to part with (Y/N)'s frustrated gasps.

''Oh, no, no!''

Mikasa's eyes widened as (Y/N) falls to the ground. While the girl still had her mouth open in surprise, her sister began to laugh. She remained on the floor, not caring about the wetness, but she didn't let the shadow of a smile escape Mikasa's face.

''Oh, so you think that's funny?'' she asked, and she wiped a single tear from her eyes, shaking her head negatively at her own shame.

With her tiptoe, she pushed the younger woman's heel hard enough to make her fall beside her.

A second lost, and then another.

Finally, letting go of her surprise, she let out a laugh, still holding the basket. It was a happy afternoon, the happiest in a long time for the two sisters, and before they knew it, the sun was beginning to set.

It was a happy afternoon, the happiest in a long time for the two sisters, and before they knew it, the sun was starting to set.

''We'd better go, little one. Mother will be furious with us if we're late for dinner,'' she said, smoothing her dress over her body. ''Let me fix this.''

Mikasa raised one of her eyebrows.

She ran her fingers over the scarf, smoothing it over her body, then lightly pinched the younger girl's nose, just like her mother used to do once upon a time.

The fall of Wall Maria marked the end of an entire era. It was a tragedy; an atrocity. On the day that so many people were torn from their homes and their lives, a permanent shadow shrouded the hearts of Grisha Jaeger's children.

There were no songs in that land that could tell the pain of (Y/N). There were no songs that could tell of Eren's anger. There was no song for the darkness that was submerged in the hearts of the Jaeger's brothers.

Eren and Mikasa were just two children when tragedy struck, and Grisha Yeager's eldest daughter, whose light once lit up the old house in Shiganshina, suddenly becomes an adult plagued by responsibilities too great.

Long weeks after the tragedy, (Y/N) was always trying to protect those kids. To keep them safe. Grisha and Carla never had to tell her that, but (Y/N) always felt like that was her responsibility. She just wanted Mikasa and Eren to be children. Just for a little while longer.

But then there they all were, watching in terror as a crowd was dragged in to reclaim the lost lands. There was no excited shouting or cheering. There was only an annoyed and doubtful murmur from the rest, because everyone seemed to know that it was just a way for the government to get rid of mouths to feed. Men and women, young and old; people with those who had lived for many years, pale and with eyes glistening with tears.

That day, Armin lost his only family.

That day, (Y/N) hugged the three boys and pulled them close, and begged - to whatever divine creature there was - that they would get through it.

Little Armin made no effort to stop the hot tears that wet his (Y/N) clothes when the gates were closed. The hat in his hands, once so light, suddenly seemed to become too heavy, too big. His knees trembled and he fell to the ground.

I am tired of losing friends.

Mikasa tries to swallow the lump forming in her throat. Her gaze was not childish, but knowing, sad, frustrated - no child should have that look. Eren, whose eyes were fixed on his friend's back, felt as if the air was caught in his throat, as if he was suffocating himself.

(Y/N) crouched down at Armin's height. When he raised his face, (Y/N) saw hers eyes mirrored in his blue eyes. She stroked the younger man's face without saying anything, just trying to calm him down.

"I am with you, Armin," she whispered. "I am with you."

''We did it!

The graduation of the 104th Recruit Squadron was a highly anticipated date for Eren, (Y/N), Mikasa and Armin. The date had arrived together with cold and humid weather, with light rains and the presence of little lightning and thunderbolts, but whose noise echoed throughout the place.

Everyone felt something different; Eren was struck with such great courage that he felt as if he could face anything from that moment on. Armin was overcome with a sense of a job well done, mystery, and curiosity about all the things that might be on the other side of the walls. Mikasa felt as if she was doing exactly what she was born to do, and although she didn't show it in words, she was pleased with the prominent position she received among all the other recruits.

After the formal introductions and dinner, the Jaeger's brothers gathered outside on the steps and the moonlight illuminated the entire clearing. There, where they stood, hardly any trees grew. It was cold, but not cold enough to make them sick, only to make them shiver.

For a long time, the two brothers remained sitting on the stairs. Neither of them started a conversation, but they were satisfied that way. After all they had done to survive, they couldn't help but wonder what they would become. Their whole lives had turned upside down after the fall of Wall Maria. They were survivors. They were soldiers.

Whatever they would become, (Y/N) just wanted to be there for Eren. For all of them.

Finally, the older woman put her right arm around Eren's shoulders. Although he was startled by her unexpected attitude, Eren relaxed his muscles and leaned over her. And in the end, that small gesture had been enough.

''I'm proud of us, man. I'm proud of what we've done,'' she said.

Eren nodded.

He listened attentively to her and understood everything she was saying. They had traveled a cruel road, where friends and family were left behind. They had suffered, but they would not give up easily.

Because we are the Jaeger. We don't run.

They fought to survive. They fought to complete their training. They fought to get what they wanted: to join the human cause. This caused many scars.

Eren was just a child like many others, but he had been forced to grow up. (Y/N) was an adult. She could have gone away. There were all the opportunities and all the desires to take what had been promised to her since her late teens - from suitors to the opportunity for study. She could have lived elsewhere and had a family with them, become an ordinary woman. Eren knew that. It would be stupid for her to reject that, foolish for her to keep running.

But she was his sister, and one brother doesn't let the other wander off alone.

Suddenly, Eren remembers. The younger man remembers when they were little, and she would tell a stupid joke to distract him while she put on a bandage after getting into a fight with the bullies who harassed Armin. He remembers how she would take over some of his work in the settlement, or how she would divide the food among the three youngest.

"Thank you for not giving up on me, sis."

That's her nature, he thinks.

And his nature to protect her now. There is nothing in the world he wouldn't do for her.

Eren hugs his sister tighter.

At that moment, what mattered wasn't the graduation. It was that the two siblings were together that night, in that place, looking out into the rainy night and thinking how proud their parents would be.

[cafeacademia]

Flustered

Fred Weasley x Shy!Reader

Summary: Fred Weasley is intrigued by the shy, sweet witch in his class, but when he finally has an opportunity to speak to her, he realises just how much he adores her.

Warnings: Lots of fluff, that’s it!

Word count: Approx 4300

Masterlist

A/N: Hi loves, I had been wanting to write something like this for a long time and inspiration struck the other day after @ickle-ronniekins ​​​ inspired me with her wonderful Freddie fic Tongue Tied 💖

Enjoy! Please let me know if I could improve on writing Fred, I tried my best 😅

Taglist is open!! Please pop me an ask if you’d like to be added 💖

“Stop staring at me.” Ron snapped at his brother as they sat at the Gryffindor table at breakfast. “I’m not staring at you, I’m staring around you.” Fred countered, George snorting out a short laugh while Harry looked up at them amused, Hermione ignoring the conversation with her head down, fingers idly stirring the spoon in her morning tea as she read the book she had brought to the table.

“What the bloody hell are you looking at then?” Ron asked, dramatically swivelling about on the spot in annoyance. “You’re like this every time we sit here, you are. You stare off into space like ‘Loony’ Lovegood.” Ron rolled his eyes. “Ronald.” Hermione suddenly hissed at him and smacked her book against his arm, perhaps with more force than intended, making the boy recoil and hold his arm away from her, looking rather intimidated as if she had tried to bite him.

And as breakfast went on and Ginny rushed off to her morning duties with Umbridge while the others continued to squabble with one another, Hermione looked up from her book and looked over in the direction that Fred had been staring in and her eyes landed on something that told her that he most certainly hadn’t been doing it to annoy anyone.

“You know Fred, he’s just doing it to bother you, Ron.” Ginny added to the conversation as she pulled up her bag onto her lap and rifled through the contents until she pulled out a paper slip. “Stupid Umbridge has got me doing extra essays this morning.” She grumbled, getting up from her seat. “She better not make me late to potions.” She sighed as George quickly plucked the uneaten piece of toast off his plate and placed it into Ginny’s hands before she had a chance to walk away. “Tell us if she gives you grief, we’ll terrorise her, won’t we George?” Fred smirked over at them both.

“It would be our pleasure.” George replied with a mischievous grin.

And while Fred was reluctant to go all the way to the library and write about a subject that he thought was quite dry, he relented and made his way through the castle.

“Are you allergic to studying?” Angelina had asked in slight annoyance. “Oh terribly, I break out in boils and everything.” Fred teased. “Lovely.” She said under her breath. “Which is why you should kindly allow me to-.”

“You are not copying my notes on talking gargoyles.” Angelina told him pointedly and the Weasley twin pouted across the hall table at her. “A History of Hogwarts is your best bet.” She told him. “But if you keep copying my work, we’re both going to get caught since last time you copied it almost word for word and Binns got mad at me. I don’t want Umbridge on my back.” She scolded him in an amused tone, though she wasn’t actually annoyed at him and perhaps if she didn’t want to actually see Fred go and find a book and do his work the proper way, she would have let him copy from her. But the way Fred saw it, it was a perfectly acceptable reason on Angelina’s part, even if it was a rather large inconvenience to Fred.

Searching through the shelves for a copy of A History of Hogwarts, Fred was becoming more exasperated as he struggled to find what he was looking for, but as he scoured the shelves for the missing book, he peeked his head around the end of a bookcase and his heart fluttered. There you stood, a few rows down with a small pile of books in your arms and he felt himself practically melt on the spot.

It was not very often that Fred found himself in this situation, so captivated by a girl that he felt butterflies in his chest. But half of the problem was that Fred had never actually spoken to you, not properly at least, because as it happened, you were incredibly shy and he was incredibly… Not shy.

The times when you did speak to each other was always very short and it seemed that you were almost afraid to speak to people you were not so familiar with, but what Fred didn’t know was that you desperately wanted to talk to him.

Fred was always so intriguing to you, he was kind and sweet and extremely funny and he was never afraid to try things out of his comfort zone, or at least he made it look that way and that had you very curious.

And Fred was just as curious about you too, because even though you were very quiet and shy, he had noticed you conveniently looking away from him very quickly and even catching your eyes on him when you had been deep in your head and he wondered what you thought about when you looked at him. He wondered what you thought of him and it was so unusual for him to care or even be curious about what another person thought of him, but when it came to you, there was a strange pull he felt towards you.

Slowly, he feigned interest in a few book spines on the shelves here and there as he moved up the rows until he got closer to you, watching as you stood over a small wooden book trolley stuffed to the very seams with recently returned books while you looked for something and he wondered, perhaps the book he was looking for was there too.

When he approached, his eyes dropped to the books in your arms and he suddenly felt as if it had all meant to be and he made a mental note to thank Angelina later, because there in your arms was a very shabby, old copy of A History of Hogwarts.

“Hey,” The greeting left his lips and you quickly glanced up at him and restrained yourself from checking around you in case he was speaking to someone else. “Hi Fred.” You replied in a soft voice and he felt his chest warm at the sound of your voice. You sounded so sweet and gentle and your calm, warming vibe seemed to elate him even more.

“Would it be alright if I took a few notes from that book?” He asked, pointing at the old volume of A History of Hogwarts. “All of the other copies have been checked out and I need to write about talking gargoyles or Binns will have my head.” He joked and you smiled, glancing down at the book in your arms, pausing for a moment as you noticed another copy of the book in the cart, but you chose to ignore it, perhaps this was a good time to spend a moment with Fred.

“We can’t have that, now can we?” You giggled softly. “We can share it.” You nodded with a little smile and Fred swore he had just seen and heard the most wonderful thing ever, quickly making it his aim to get more smiles and giggles out of you if he could because if it wasn’t the warmest and most lovely thing he’d experienced all day, he didn’t know what was.

You felt elated, though very nervous as you and Fred sat down together at one of the desks between the rows of books. It certainly didn’t help that Fred scooted his seat close to yours so he could easily see the book and the proximity of him, elbows almost touching, made your heart race.

“So, talking gargoyles?” You asked, opening the book and flicking through the pages. “That’s right, don’t suppose you happen to know if there are any around the castle?” He asked. “I would, actually.” You replied with a little smile and Fred looked over at you with curiosity, looking down at you as you flicked over onto a page on the subject. “And what, do you just go around talking to gargoyles and see if they talk back?” Fred asked, quite seriously and you let out a giggle. “No, well perhaps once or twice.” You admitted, rather shyly.

The pair of you talked, not just about Hogwarts and it’s talking gargoyles, but all manner of things and on several occasions, Madam Pince hushed you both with an irritated, harsh shhh, to which Fred just shook his head and chuckled.

“Did you know that there is one in the Transfiguration courtyard?” You asked, looking up at him and the red haired boy looked at you, intrigued. “No, have you spoken to it?” He asked. “Yes, a few times actually. Some of them are very good at listening when you need someone to talk to, but the one outside of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom is very grumpy and ill mannered.” You informed him and while Fred was quite amused by your information, he was grateful to spend some time getting to know the girl that made his heart warm.

He just couldn’t believe he was using talking gargoyles as a way to flirt with a girl.

He was elated, his heart was practically soaring as he packed the last of his writing supplies into his bag, because you were like a breath of fresh air. Fred was unsure he’d met anyone like you, shy yet so sweet and you seemed to have opened up a little bit around him in that hour he had spent with you, he just hoped he had another opportunity to see you open and warm up to him a bit more because it created a feeling in his chest like he had never felt before.

“Thank you for letting me share that book with you, I hope it wasn’t a bother.” Fred said sweetly to you as he pulled his bag onto the table, slowly packing away his History of Magic book, hoping to have just a little more extra time with you. “Never, Fred, let me know if you want to share another book again.” You told him shyly, unable to look at him, because the invite alone falling from your lips was rather an accident and you felt yourself flush with warmth that you’d even said that.

“Definitely.” He winked at you, though he was unsure you saw.

“See you around, love.” Fred said, smiling down at you as he stood up, pulling his bag onto his shoulder. “Bye Fred, good luck with your gargoyles.” You replied, looking over your shoulder at him as he pushed his chair back in and began to walk away.

Walking briskly into the common room with a bounce in his step and an unbeatable smile on his face, Fred walked over to his siblings. “Oi, oi, what’s this?” Fred asked, plucking a piece of paper out of his sister’s hands just as she had taken it back from George. “Umbridge got her in detention with Snape because she made her late to potions again.” George told him. “They’re bloody made for each other.” Fred rolled his eyes, handing the detention slip back to Ginny before dropping himself onto the sofa between his two siblings, Ron and Harry sitting off at the side on a couple of the armchairs.

“Where have you been anyway?” Ginny asked as Fred playfully nudged her away from him on the sofa so he could have a bit more space. “Studying.” He replied with a grin.

“You, voluntarily studying? And why the bloody hell are you so happy about it?” Ron interrogated him. “Oh shove off, can’t a man be happy about talking gargoyles?” Fred asked, Ron and Ginny giggling between themselves. “Talking gargoyles? That’s what’s making you smile like you’ve just won the quidditch world cup?”

“No Ronald,” Hermione countered as she approached the group from behind, circling around the sofa and perching herself on the arm next to George. “It wasn’t the gargoyles, it was a girl.” She announced, while Fred gave her a look of cutting disappointment.

“Ooh a girl, who is it Freddie? C’mon I won’t tell anyone.” George urged, leaning in close to his twin in an effort to get him to whisper it to him. “Yeah, I bet that’s who he’s been staring at all those breakfasts and dinners too.” Ron added. “Well, who is it?” Ginny asked, imitating her brother and leaning in against Fred, looking up at him with intrigue.

“Oi piss off you lot, all we did was bloody study, that’s all.” Fred told them pointedly. “Who is it though?” Ron asked, leaning over himself and prodding Fred’s leg. “None of your bloody business.” Fred chuckled, shoving Ron back and playfully pushing his siblings away from him.

Soon after, Fred and George returned to their dormitory together and Fred knew that George would probably try and pry it out of him somehow. “So what actually happened?” George asked, now that the two were alone in the boys dormitory and they were luckily the only two in the room. “We shared a book, we joked a fair bit and did you know that there’s a talking gargoyle outside of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom?” He asked.

“No?” George replied questioningly.

“No wonder, apparently he’s a right git.”

“Is that what you talked about the whole time? Grumpy gargoyles?” George asked. “Not exactly.” Fred replied, but now that George had said that and made him think back on the conversation, Fred wished he had spent more time chatting about other things and he knew he’d have to try his best to get another conversation with you soon.

“Well at least tell me what she’s like.” George said, sitting himself down on the edge of his bed, looking across at his brother while Fred took in a deep breath and grinned to himself, telling his twin about you.

After that day in the library, Fred took every opportunity he had to chat to you. He’d round on you when your classes together finished so he could swoop in front of you with that cocky smirk that seemed to send butterflies through you and make you even more shy and giggly, he would purposely sit next to you in class, assuming Umbridge wasn’t around to control the seating patterns.

He tried his best to get smiles out of you and he was always passing you notes in classes and pressing them into your hands when he passed you in the hallways.

He was sweet and kind and day by day, Fred managed to get you more and more out of your shell.

You were well and truly falling for Fred Weasley. And he was falling for you too.

“And why exactly did you need to bring me into all of this?” You questioned, feeling a shiver creep across your skin and the Weasley twin gave you a mischievous little smirk. “It’s no fun without someone else and George is serving detention with Filch since he got caught putting stink pellets under Umbridge’s chair before class as payback for Ginny getting detention.” He explained with a proud smile, watching as you laughed, bowing your head, a bit too shy to look him in the eyes.

It was a week later that Fred came hurtling down the corridor with a huge grin plastered on his face and you looked up to see him absolutely legging it towards you and you had half the mind to brace yourself as he approached.

“Bloody hell, Fred what’s-.”

“Shh, quick.” He hushed you, gently but firmly grabbing your shoulders before he pulled you off behind a statue and winked at you as he opened the entrance to a secret passageway and pulled you in with him.

“Fred?” You asked in a quiet voice, a little confused as to why you had been dragged into a freezing cold stone walled passageway. “Might’ve just set off a bunch of exploding flowers in Umbridge’s office.” He sniggered, to which, you couldn’t help but laugh. “She’s furious, bet she knows it was me too.” He laughed under his breath. “Serves her right.” Fred chuckled and his heart warmed when he heard your soft laughter join his.

Fred wanted to kiss you, he felt the urge, the way nearly every single part of him screamed at him to do it, and yet he restrained himself, his warm touch gently tracing down your arms to your hands and taking them into his with a gentle grasp. He wanted to kiss you, but the moment wasn’t right and he pulled himself out of the warm, hazy feeling that had washed over him and back into his confident, louder than life demeanor, giving you a big grin.

It was then that Fred realised how close to you he was and the sound of your laugh, sweet and gentle, relaxed him. Your presence, warmth and beautiful smile relaxed him.

Looking up at him, your eyes met and the way he looked at you with a look you couldn’t quite place, his grin slowly turning into a smirk as he held your gaze, you felt butterflies rush through you and you were sure that Fred, with his proud smile and warm eyes, could see the way he affected you and the very thought made your heart flutter.

“C’mon, let’s get going before anyone misses us.” Fred said, gently tugging you, your hand still in his as he reached out to open the entrance of the passageway.

It was finally the weekend and a particularly chilly Saturday morning at that. Everyone had woken up to the first snow of the year and the castle was practically buzzing with excitement and even though Umbridge had made strict instructions that snowball fights were prohibited, Fred and George had spent the best part of an hour after breakfast having a snowball fight and pelting anyone that walked close enough to them with snowballs.

And as the morning went on and George decided to part ways with his brother in search of some extra layers of warmth, Fred continued to walk further into the grounds, his heart lifting when he saw you in the near distance and he picked up the pace to catch up with you.

“Mornin’.” Fred’s smooth, deep voice caught your attention and you looked up to see him walking alongside you, having caught up from behind and you smiled sweetly at him. “Mind if I join you for a walk?” Fred asked and you quickly glanced up at him, giving him that sweet smile that he loved to see so much and nodding before you looked away again. “I’d like that.” You said, Fred relaxing as he stayed at your pace, a comfortable silence falling between you as you walked, the only sound that could be heard was the soft crunch of snow beneath your steps as you both walked down the hill towards the edge of the lake.

“Not likely, Umbridge really would have my head.” Fred laughed. “But I reckon we can get away with something.” He winked at you, grinning and you wondered what he and George might think up.

The two of you walked along the edge of the lake, most of the middle of the body of water was frozen over, but the gently lapping shores of the lake were still free, at least until the temperature dropped even more in the coming weeks before Christmas. “It always feels more magical around Christmas time, don’t you think?” You asked, looking back over your shoulder at Hogwarts, sitting proudly up on the rocks. The roofs were blanketed with fresh snow from the early morning flurry, it was as if everything was suddenly quiet and still and despite the excitement that filled the castle, there was an air of calmness that came with the first snow.

“Definitely.” Fred agreed. “Reckon they’ll put the tree up soon?” He asked.

“I hope so.” You replied, smiling up at him.

“What are you putting on the tree this year? More exploding baubles?” You asked, referencing the previous year when he and George had made some very pretty baubles that exploded when people walked a bit too close to them, causing half of the hall to shriek at the sudden chain of mini explosions like tiny fireworks and the other half to collapse into laughter.

As you walked a bit further through the grounds, a soft flurry of snow began to fall and the temperature seemed to drop a bit and you shivered as the chill rushed through you.

Without a word, Fred smiled at you, slowly putting his arm around you and you gladly leaned into his side.

Your heart sped up and you could barely look at Fred as you stopped near the forest edge, looking out across the lake with his arm around you. You had never expected to be this close to Fred, especially when you had considered yourself far too shy to even speak to him, let alone take walks with you tucked against his side.

A comfortable silence lingered between you for a moment as Fred slowly reached up, his warm fingers brushing against your cheek and he leaned in, pausing for a moment as his lips barely brushed against yours, his smile widening when he felt you lean into him, hands slowly trailing up his chest to rest on his shoulders and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, your eyes sliding shut as you leaned into him.

“I reckon this is more magical than a snowy Hogwarts.” Fred broke the silence, his voice low as he looked over at you. “What is, Fred?” You asked, unsure of what he was referencing.

“Out here, with you.” He admitted and you almost felt as if you needed to check if you were imagining all of this. “With me?” You asked, glancing up at him and meeting the warmest, sweetest look in his eyes and you practically melted on the spot.

Fred Weasley was capturing your heart and you were more than happy to allow him.

“Of course with you, silly.” He chuckled. “There’s something special about you, love.” Fred admitted, though he wasn’t entirely sure how to tell you how he felt, that being around you seemed to halt the entire world, as if everything you did just made his heart melt and gave him butterflies and not to mention, he felt calm around you and it was wonderful.

And as you parted, you could barely share his gaze until Fred lifted your chin with his fingers, his warm smile capturing you and you couldn’t look away, not when he looked at you so lovingly.

The kiss was slow and gentle and the moment was peaceful with not a single sound disturbing the moment you shared together. Your lips were sweet against his, tentative yet loving, shy yet warming and Fred swore he had never felt so wonderful.

Gently, he pulled you closer against his chest, deepening the kiss, his lips moving against yours slowly and the loving haze he had felt before in the secret passageway, that he felt every time he looked at you, lingered between you both.

“Fancy going back in for a cup of hot chocolate, love?” Fred asked after a moment. “I’d love one.” You nodded, smiling up at him and the twin grinned at you.

Slowly, Fred guided you back along the side of the lake, your hand in his with you against his side. And while you shared a silence between you, you looked up to find his gaze and the way you looked at each other said everything you needed to know.

You were well and truly in love with Fred Weasley.

Fred walked you slowly back to the castle, the pair of you enjoying each other’s company out in the snow, and it was almost strange to see Fred so quiet, yet his smile was wide and beaming as if he had just, as Ron had put it, won the world quidditch cup.

“I knew it.” Hermione whispered, somewhat triumphantly as she watched you and Fred settle down at a table near them in the great hall. “Knew what?” Ron asked. “The girl Fred’s with, Ron. She’s in some of our classes.” George explained. “Gotta say, they were spending a lot of time sitting together recently.” He shrugged. “Why the bloody hell didn’t you say anything?” Ron hissed at him. “I’d never snitch on my twin.” George said teasingly.

“Thank Merlin for talking gargoyles, ey?” Fred said as he watched you take a sip of your hot chocolate, swirled high with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles. “Glad there was only one copy of that book that day too.” He said, lifting his own mug in his hands and taking a small sip as he listened to you giggle in response.

“And I’m glad I never pointed out the other copy of the book in the library.” You added, Fred looking at you with surprise and amusement as he let out a breathy laugh.

“You’re bloody sneaky, you are.” He chuckled, hugging you to his side as he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead. 

“What do you say, darling?” He asked after a moment of silence. “Would you do me the honour of going out on a date with me?” Fred asked, his thumb gently soothing over your cheek as his eyes met yours.

Butterflies bloomed in your chest, an uncontrollable smile forming on your lips as you looked up at him. “Absolutely, Fred.” You replied with a little nod and Fred leaned in, his lips gently capturing yours in a loving, tender kiss.

And as he parted from you, beaming at you with the brightest smile you’d ever seen, Fred knew he was in love, just as you were with him.

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