#i love seeing them in suits it means i can picture their wedding more clearly 🥰

[nyoomfruits]

oscar’s bowtie being all wonky vs lando’s perfectly crips one i know this probably means oscar tied his himself while lando is wearing a clip on but EYE choose to interpert it as oscar helped lando out with his and then lando wanted to help oscar out with his too because thats only FAIR but lando absolutely sucks at tying bowties and oscar is too fucking whipped to tell him/fix it

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball Super 003

Boat Time.

Okay, so now that I compare Bulma’s boat with the boat from Episode 2, I can see that they’re clearly not the same.  Bulma’s is way bigger, as evidenced by the number of decks. 

So remember how Bulma celebrated her birthday in Battle of Gods?  Well, Dragon Ball Super is just doing that whole party over again, but in this version it’s on a cruise ship, which makes it totally fresh and original.

Everyone’s on their way to the ship, but Krillin and 18 get stuck in traffic, just like they did in Dragon Ball GT when they tried to evacuate the city during the Super 17 Saga.  This time they just get out and fly the rest of the way.  Wait, did they do that in GT too?  Anyway, this time, 17 doesn’t show up and murder Krillin. 

“Why did we even take the car if we could just fly there?” 18 asks. 

“Because it pads out the show more if we do it both ways,” Krillin explains.

Wait, what is up with their car?  It looks like the windshield and the hood go straight down in front of them, like a bus.  This thing isn’t even animated.  It’s just scenery, and they still couldn’t draw it right.  An ill omen to be sure. 

Roshi’s already on the ship, and he’s using the pay-telescope to leer at girls on the beach.  Master Roshi belongs in j-- Wait, I think what he’s doing is legal?  I mean, he’s making a big spectacle of this, but at least he’s not going up to Videl and asking her for panties or some shit. 

I think that nosebleed Roshi is sporting might be the only blood in this whole series. Goku and Vegeta get stabbed later on, but they just sort of pretend like it didn’t do anything. 

Bulma’s all annoyed at Roshi and Oolong’s antics, and once again I have to ask: Why did she invite them?  Do you think they’d care if they got left out of this?  They’d just settle in for an evening watching Pornhub.  Or they could fondle each other in their sleep, like in the Broly movie. 

Buu’s here, and Bulma’s mad at him for eating.  That’s what he does! Why did you invite him if you didn’t want him eating the whole time?  Then she’s mad at Goku and Vegeta for no-showing the party.  Dammit, make up your mind, Bulma! If they showed up, what would they be doing?  Eating?   Yeah.  You can’t win.

Gohan and Videl give Piccolo a photo from their recent wedding.  The gag here is that Piccolo’s eyes were shut, but this was the only photo they managed to get of him, so oh well.  Never mind that.  Two things about this picture.  First, it always bugged me how Gohan’s wearing a white suit, as opposed to the black one he had in the photo from Dragon Ball Z.

I mean, Videl’s hair and dress look different as well, but I could overlook that.  Maybe they changed clothes before the reception? Maybe they had two weddings?  That’d be pretty awesome.  Videl had to divorce Gohan so she could marry Sharpner as part of some elaborate undercover sting operation, and when it was over, they remarried just to make everything nice and legal. 

Anyway, the second thing I want to point out is that I love Goku being the fun dad at the wedding.  He always reminds me of this photo of the band Paper Lace during a commercial for Time Life’s Sounds of the 70′s album.

I guess specifically, Goku looks like the guy with the white tie in the middle.  I’m not even 100% sure that’s Paper Lace in this image, but their song was playing at this point in the ad, so every time I think about Gohan and Videl’s wedding, I think of the song “The Night Chicago Died”. 

In the heat of a summer niiiiiiiiight In the land of the dollar bill When the town of Chicago diiiiied And they talk about it still

When a man named Al Capone Tried to make that town his own And he called his gang to war With the forces of the law

I may have to add this song to my Luffa vs. Goku playlist.  Need some Goku tunes for that one. 

I was mad at myself for getting off-track, but there’s really nothing else to this episode.  Half of it is Beerus struggling to remember the name “Super Saiyan God”, even though he already remembered it in the last episode.  He summons his Oracle Fish to discuss his vision, since the Fish gave a similar prophecy 39 years ago about Beerus meeting his rival on this date.  Oracle Fish doesn’t recall the name, until Beerus threatens to cut back on his feedings.  See, this is dumb, because in the movie, Oracle Fish’s involvement was much more vague, and the fish basically told Beerus what he wanted to hear, without really adding much to the story.  That worked, because it made it unclear whether Beerus was actually onto something or if he was just delusional from being so accustomed to having his own way. 

But in Dragon Ball Super, or at least this arc, Beerus is a lot more villainous, and for no particular reason.  He’s already destroyed eight planets since waking up, and he doesn’t seem to be nearly as fair-minded as he was in the movie.  So he refuses to accept anything less than a straight answer from the Oracle Fish, which kind of defeats the concept of the Oracle Fish.  They might as well call it Spoiler Fish, except Battle of Gods came out two years prior, so it’s actually old news.  Old News Fish.  Doesn’t have the same ring to it.

So Beerus learns about the Saiyans, and how Frieza killed them all (on Beerus’ orders), only for one of the survivors to defeat Frieza by rediscovering the Super Saiyan transformation.  It’s the only lead Beerus has, so they set out to find Goku, who is currently training on the North Kai Planet.

Oh, one other thing.  While discussing Beerus, the Elder Kai mentions that it was Beerus who sealed him in the Z Sword way back in the day.  I think this is the first time that lore got dropped, since Elder Kai was barely in Battle of Gods.  I’ve never been too fond of this idea, since Beerus is a God of Destruction, and not a God of Sealing Guys In Swords.  I’m not saying Beerus wouldn’t seal a guy inside a sword, but it doesn’t seem like his style.  Also, we’ve never seen him display any powers that would suggest this is something Beerus can do. 

Oh, also, King Kai tries to keep Goku distracted from the whole Beerus thing, so he complains about how Goku got him killed during the Cell Games arc, and he never bothered to revive him with the Dragon Balls.  This is bullshit, because in the original cut of Battle of Gods, King Kai didn’t have a halo, implying that he had been resurrected at some point, and then the halo was edited back in. 

Also, the bigger issue is that King Kai’s planet was destroyed in that explosion, and yet it returned in Battle of Gods without explanation. 

What else?  I guess that’s about it.  These early DBS episodes are a real drag to describe.  I just want to get to the good stuff, but that’s a long ways off...

[my-weird-news]

20 Epicly Awkward Prom Pics from the Funky Past 🕺📸

Prom Night Follies: Groovy Awkwardness That Ages Like Moldy Cheese 🕺👑 What is it about peeking into our pasts that tickles our funny bones? Seriously, it's like a nostalgia-induced comedy show where everyone's dressed in the silliest outfits, parading around like they just found a stash of enchanted dress-up clothes. Is it the thrill of seeing folks rocking their bizarre getups without a hint of irony? Or maybe it's the relief that we're no longer wearing powder blue top hats and curtains-as-dress fashion statements. Whatever it is, let's dive into the chuckle-worthy world of awkward prom photos from the Groovy era. Leave the Top Hat Alone, It’s Bored of Your Company Hold the phone, folks, we’ve got a guy in the back sporting a top hat that thinks it's starring in a soap opera. I mean, that thing has more drama than a Shakespearean tragedy. Meanwhile, Mr. Caught-Off-Guard on the side just wants to have a normal picture, but nooo, top hat guy is stealing the limelight. Let’s give it up for the gals though, who are pulling off their looks like they’re getting ready for a blast. They probably wish they left that top hat at home, locked away with all the ghosts of fashion past. Flannel Fever: The Key to Everlasting Love Step right up, folks, for the most '70s prom pic you'll ever lay your eyes on. We've got shag carpet squares, paper mushrooms that look like a failed art project, and dual plaid suits that scream, "Hey, let’s match like a married couple!" These two deserve applause for their coordinated flannel, but someone please get them a towel – the prom dance floor doubles as a sauna, apparently. Magic and Mismatched Expressions: A Perfect Recipe Attention, prom photographers: Can we get a matching expression coordinator, stat? Nothing says “I’m thrilled to be here” like a split-screen of a guy who's hyped and a date who's mentally grocery shopping. Seriously, it's like watching a buddy comedy where one person didn't get the memo that it's supposed to be a comedy. A Puff of Smoke and a Splash of Style Catastrophe Cue the smoke machine, folks! Behold the wide-lapelled flannel jacket that thinks it’s the real star of the show. Bowtie, you're cool and all, but let's be real – the jacket’s hogging the spotlight. This was clearly the golden age of experimenting with fashion, when everyone took a detour through Crazytown before arriving at Promville. But hey, at least this guy has the crown for the greatest 1970s mullet. Congrats? From Prom to Mortuary: The Unenthusiastic Guy Meet the guy who treats prom like a funeral procession. Hands folded, pet gecko missing, and an overall aura of doom – it's like someone swapped his prom ticket with a burial plot reservation. Buddy, cheer up! It's prom, not a séance. Life’s too short to mourn your own prom night. Moonlit Bananas and Peasant Fashion Hey, remember that time the school decided the prom theme was “Jungle Love”? No? Well, neither do we, because it's bananas – literally. Those gals are perched on a moon that could easily double as a giant banana in another life. Maybe the school mascot is the Fighting Bananas. Who knows, it's the Groovy era – anything's possible. ’70s: When Dads Took Over Teenage Bodies The 1970s: when teenage boys turned into middle-aged dads overnight. This guy's got more wedding vibes than a justice of the peace. Did they card him at the entrance? Or did they offer him a briefcase and a 9-to-5 job as a dad-joke enthusiast? Ah, kids these days. Blinds, Blinds, and More Blinds: Oh Yeah, and Teens In this thrilling episode of "Prom Pics: The Next Generation," our young lovebirds are upstaged by the real stars of the show: venetian blinds. Because who needs prom memories when you can have window decor? But hey, at least the kids look happy. Somebody tell the blinds to chill. Last Known Photographs and Prom: A Perfect Match Look, folks, it's the "Last Known Photograph" series, featuring two teens who look like they're posing for an FBI witness protection program file. Are they having a great time? Is this a prelude to a crime spree? We need answers. But we also secretly hope they had a redo for a less ominous prom pic. When TVs Were Prom Dates: An Awkward Love Affair Guess what, folks? The '70s brought us the golden era of prom dates – enter the disembodied head! Because who needs a whole person when you can just go with the floating head option? Half-price tickets for half a person, anyone? Growing Pains and Cloudy Dancing Being a teenager: a tumultuous journey from 4'11" to 6'1" with legs that suddenly think they're in a growth race. These younguns are trying to walk on clouds made of cotton, but in reality, they're just tripping on clouds. Disco dance meets accidental acrobatics – it's all part of the '70s magic. "Jungle Love" or Just Plain "Oh No"? Someone needs to explain the '70s' obsession with bizarre prom themes. "Jungle Love"? Really? Did the school mascot have a stroke of genius, or did someone think, "You know what kids need? A dance that raises questions about cultural sensitivity!" Let's all agree that "Jungle Love" should've stayed in the jungle. Captain Awkward: Ready for Takeoff Breaking news: Prom pic rule #1 – thou shalt not look excited. This guy’s suppressing his inner cheerleader so hard, he's about to explode in a burst of restrained enthusiasm. Inside, he's doing Olympic gymnastics. Outside, he's trying to win the medal for "Most Chill Dude at Prom." Flashback to the Groovy-est Gagworthy Trends Ta-da! If you ever wondered what a single frame of the '70s looked like, here you go. Behold the high collars, wooden wall panels, and oversized glasses that together create a montage of fashion crimes. It's like the '70s threw up in one picture, and we can't look away. Mickey Ears Are So Yesterday, Meet Mickey Dots Who pulled the Mickey Mouse prank on this guy's prom photo? Did he willingly become a# Prom Night Follies: Groovy Awkwardness That Ages Like Moldy Cheese 🕺👑 What is it about peeking into our pasts that tickles our funny bones? Seriously, it's like a nostalgia-induced comedy show where everyone's dressed in the silliest outfits, parading around like they just found a stash of enchanted dress-up clothes. Is it the thrill of seeing folks rocking their bizarre getups without a hint of irony? Or maybe it's the relief that we're no longer wearing powder blue top hats and curtains-as-dress fashion statements. Whatever it is, let's dive into the chuckle-worthy world of awkward prom photos from the Groovy era. Leave the Top Hat Alone, It’s Bored of Your Company Hold the phone, folks, we’ve got a guy in the back sporting a top hat that thinks it's starring in a soap opera. I mean, that thing has more drama than a Shakespearean tragedy. Meanwhile, Mr. Caught-Off-Guard on the side just wants to have a normal picture, but nooo, top hat guy is stealing the limelight. Let’s give it up for the gals though, who are pulling off their looks like they’re getting ready for a blast. They probably wish they left that top hat at home, locked away with all the ghosts of fashion past. Flannel Fever: The Key to Everlasting Love Step right up, folks, for the most '70s prom pic you'll ever lay your eyes on. We've got shag carpet squares, paper mushrooms that look like a failed art project, and dual plaid suits that scream, "Hey, let’s match like a married couple!" These two deserve applause for their coordinated flannel, but someone please get them a towel – the prom dance floor doubles as a sauna, apparently. Magic and Mismatched Expressions: A Perfect Recipe Attention, prom photographers: Can we get a matching expression coordinator, stat? Nothing says “I’m thrilled to be here” like a split-screen of a guy who's hyped and a date who's mentally grocery shopping. Seriously, it's like watching a buddy comedy where one person didn't get the memo that it's supposed to be a comedy. A Puff of Smoke and a Splash of Style Catastrophe Cue the smoke machine, folks! Behold the wide-lapelled flannel jacket that thinks it’s the real star of the show. Bowtie, you're cool and all, but let's be real – the jacket’s hogging the spotlight. This was clearly the golden age of experimenting with fashion, when everyone took a detour through Crazytown before arriving at Promville. But hey, at least this guy has the crown for the greatest 1970s mullet. Congrats? From Prom to Mortuary: The Unenthusiastic Guy Meet the guy who treats prom like a funeral procession. Hands folded, pet gecko missing, and an overall aura of doom – it's like someone swapped his prom ticket with a burial plot reservation. Buddy, cheer up! It's prom, not a séance. Life’s too short to mourn your own prom night. Moonlit Bananas and Peasant Fashion Hey, remember that time the school decided the prom theme was “Jungle Love”? No? Well, neither do we, because it's bananas – literally. Those gals are perched on a moon that could easily double as a giant banana in another life. Maybe the school mascot is the Fighting Bananas. Who knows, it's the Groovy era – anything's possible. ’70s: When Dads Took Over Teenage Bodies The 1970s: when teenage boys turned into middle-aged dads overnight. This guy's got more wedding vibes than a justice of the peace. Did they card him at the entrance? Or did they offer him a briefcase and a 9-to-5 job as a dad-joke enthusiast? Ah, kids these days. Blinds, Blinds, and More Blinds: Oh Yeah, and Teens In this thrilling episode of "Prom Pics: The Next Generation," our young lovebirds are upstaged by the real stars of the show: venetian blinds. Because who needs prom memories when you can have window decor? But hey, at least the kids look happy. Somebody tell the blinds to chill. Last Known Photographs and Prom: A Perfect Match Look, folks, it's the "Last Known Photograph" series, featuring two teens who look like they're posing for an FBI witness protection program file. Are they having a great time? Is this a prelude to a crime spree? We need answers. But we also secretly hope they had a redo for a less ominous prom pic. When TVs Were Prom Dates: An Awkward Love Affair Guess what, folks? The '70s brought us the golden era of prom dates – enter the disembodied head! Because who needs a whole person when you can just go with the floating head option? Half-price tickets for half a person, anyone? Growing Pains and Cloudy Dancing Being a teenager: a tumultuous journey from 4'11" to 6'1" with legs that suddenly think they're in a growth race. These younguns are trying to walk on clouds made of cotton, but in reality, they're just tripping on clouds. Disco dance meets accidental acrobatics – it's all part of the '70s magic. "Jungle Love" or Just Plain "Oh No"? Someone needs to explain the '70s' obsession with bizarre prom themes. "Jungle Love"? Really? Did the school mascot have a stroke of genius, or did someone think, "You know what kids need? A dance that raises questions about cultural sensitivity!" Let's all agree that "Jungle Love" should've stayed in the jungle. Captain Awkward: Ready for Takeoff Breaking news: Prom pic rule #1 – thou shalt not look excited. This guy’s suppressing his inner cheerleader so hard, he's about to explode in a burst of restrained enthusiasm. Inside, he's doing Olympic gymnastics. Outside, he's trying to win the medal for "Most Chill Dude at Prom." Flashback to the Groovy-est Gagworthy Trends Ta-da! If you ever wondered what a single frame of the '70s looked like, here you go. Behold the high collars, wooden wall panels, and oversized glasses that together create a montage of fashion crimes. It's like the '70s threw up in one picture, and we can't look away. Mickey Ears Are So Yesterday, Meet Mickey Dots Who pulled the Mickey Mouse prank on this guy's prom photo? Did he willingly become a Read the full article

[the-bau-quinjet]

You're an Idiot

Summary: Bucky panics when he thinks Y/N is catching on to his surprise.

Warnings: angst, mostly fluff

Word Count: 3531

a/n: This request is honestly so cute. It just makes me smile. :)

Masterlist

"Did you get it yet?" Steve skipped all formalities upon entering Bucky's room.

Bucky's head snapped up from the book he was reading, eyes immediately going to the closing door to make sure nobody was in the hall.

"Well? Did you?" Steve pestered, eager to share in his friends happiness.

"I did." Bucky sighed, knowing there was no keeping this from Steve.

"Let me see it!" There are no words to explain how excited Steve is for his best friend. When he first got Bucky back, a part of him was worried he would never recover from the pain and guilt.

That is, until Bucky met you. It wasn't an instantaneous change, but meeting you definitely affected Bucky.

He was more willing to spend time with the team. He was more likely be found in a common area instead of his own bedroom. Hell, he even smiled more.

Bucky carefully pulled out the drawer of his nightstand, retrieving a dark green velvet box. He opened it, his own eyes taking in the beauty of the ring before he turned it around to show Steve.

"Buck... She's going to love it." Steve smiled, eyes watering slightly. He's always been a romantic. "Have you decided how you're going to ask her?"

Bucky shook his head, quickly returning the box to its place in the drawer. He ran a hand through his hair, a physical manifestation of his nerves.

"I don't know. I have so many ideas, but none of them seem perfect." Bucky chanced a look at Steve, rolling his eyes at his friends exasperated look.

"Bucky. She'll think it's perfect because it's you. Trust me." Steve encouraged him, knowing he needed a bit of reassurance.

"Are you sure?" His recurring self doubt as beginning to peek through.

"Sure about what?" You popped into the room, never one to knock when it came to Bucky. Similarly, he never needed to knock to know he was welcome in your room.

"Just that Bucky deserves to be happy." Steve avoided Bucky's glare as he moved to exit that room.

"Well, that I can agree to!" You plopped down across his lap throwing your arms around his neck. You felt a familiar shiver as he moved his hands, one to your back and the other over your thigh.

"Well, it's a good thing I have you." Bucky pressed a quick kiss to your lips, waving at Steve as he closed the door.

"You make me happy too." You responded in kind, leaning into his embrace.

-

"So?" Steve questioned.

"Not yet." Bucky sighed, still unsure of the perfect way to propose to you.

"Buck. You've had it for 2 weeks! Just ask her!" Steve whisper yelled since the two were in the kitchen. Unfortunately, nosy ears still caught the conversation.

"Ask who, what?" Sam eagerly inserted himself into the conversation.

Bucky and Steve shared a look, only giving Sam a better idea as to what was going on.

"Oh my god. Oh my god! You're going to ask Y/N-"

"Ask me what?" You cut Sam off as you entered the kitchen, heading for the fridge.

"To train with me!" Sam quickly threw out an excuse.

"Okay? We train together all the time..." You looked between the three men confusion evident in the furrow of your brow.

"Well, yeah. But you've never flown before." Sam tried to further explain the lie, earning an excited smile from you and a glare from the two super soldiers.

"Seriously! Sam you swore you'd never let me fly your suit. What changed?" You narrowed your eyes, suspicious of the three men.

"Yeah, well Barnes practically begged me. He wanted to surprise you, but I guess I ruined that. My bad!" He replied, swiftly exiting the kitchen before you could further question him.

"Bucky, that is so sweet! Thank you so much! You know how much I want to fly that suit!" You ran to him, throwing your arms around him in a bear hug.

"Anything for you, doll. Anything for you."

-

"I think he's going to propose." You laid it all out on the line during girl's night. Three margaritas in, and you couldn't keep the thoughts to yourself anymore. It didn't matter how embarrassing it would be if you were wrong. Not when the tequila was doing the talking.

"Oh my god!" Wanda squealed, just as excited as you.

"Wow." Nat smirked, containing her happiness much better.

"I know! I'm just not sure when." You bit your lip, fidgeting a bit.

"Well, what do you know?" Nat asked for details.

"He was talking to Steve about something when I walked in and Steve said he deserves to be happy. Then, this morning Sam was freaking out about a question he was going to ask me. I mean, he covered it with something about letting me fly his suit, but still. I just have a feeling." You couldn't stop the smile from spreading across your face.

"Okay. He's probably just nervous then." Nat replied easily.

"Just drop some subtle hints that you would say yes. Maybe he just needs some reassurance!" Wanda grinned over the glass of her own margarita.

"Okay. Subtle hints. I can do that." You nodded to yourself, thoughts spinning with ways to let Bucky know you would say yes.

-

"I've got it." Bucky rushed into Steve's room, a wide smile on his face.

"You do?" Steve jumped from his desk, excitement overflowing.

Bucky vigorously nodded before explaining his plan.

"Two more weeks?!" Steve was dying for Bucky to just ask you, but if his plan had to wait two more weeks, so be it.

"Yes. It's perfect. She'll be so surprised!" You and Bucky had briefly talked about marriage before, but nothing in detail. Just enough that he knows you want to get married.

"I'm happy for you, bud. You really do deserve this." Steve patted him on the back, as he went through the plan one more time.

-

"Bucky?" You had been looking for him all over the compound before finally checking the living room.

He paused the film, turning all his attention to you. He smiled in greeting, gesturing for you to join him on the couch.

"What do you need?" His brows pinched together in concern, earning a sweet smile from you.

"I just wanted to ask what color you think I should paint my nails!" You showed him the various bottles you were carrying.

"Oh." His pinched brows now showcased his confusion. "Um, okay. Any particular reason why?"

"Not really. I'm thinking of getting a new ring soon, and I want my nails to look good when I take pictures of it!" You tried to sound nonchalant, but your heart was racing. Was this subtle enough?

Bucky's own heart picked up speed at the idea of you finding out before the surprise he had planned.

"Oh, that's nice. I'd go with the yellow. It's happy." He turned his attention back to the movie, trying to cut the conversation short.

"Okay, thank you!" You pressed a kiss to his cheek before leaving the room. Clearly you needed a better plan.

-

"Hi, Doll." Bucky greeted you as he entered the kitchen. "What are you making?"

"Italian Wedding Soup!" You exclaimed, excited to try another hint. "Don't you just love weddings?"

Bucky nearly choked on his water. "Um, yep. Yeah, wedding's are great. I've, uh, got to meet Steve for training! I'll see you later!" he nearly ran out of the room.

"Well, that didn't go well." You muttered to yourself, now angry at the soup.

-

"Bucky, can I ask you something?" He had been practically avoiding you for the last two days, ever since the soup incident.

"Of course." He met your eye, the nervous tone of your voice causing his heart to ache.

"Do you ever think about getting married?" You decided to just bite the bullet and ask him what you've been wondering for the last few days.

"Nope." He panicked. 100% panicked. "I don't believe in marriage."

His nerves caused him to miss the way your shoulders dropped.

"Oh."

"Yep. It's not for me. Just can't picture it." His head was screaming for him to stop talking, but he just kept rambling.

"Well, okay. I was, um, just wondering. Ya know. Wanda was talking about it the other day, so I was curious what you thought." You tried to cover your sadness, at least until you could get out of the room. "I'm actually going to grab lunch with Wanda now, so I'll see you later. Bye!"

You quickly ran out of the room, leaving Bucky to contemplate what the hell just happened.

-

"I was so wrong." You burst into tears the minute you entered Wanda's room.

"Honey! About what?" She pulled you across the room to her bed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"Bucky!" You cried harder as you said his name.

"What about him?" Wanda floundered, unused to seeing you so distraught.

"He doesn't want to propose! He doesn't believe in marriage." Your heart broke even further as you said the words out loud.

"What?!" Wanda's eyes were wide. Her mind went blank at the shock of hearing why you were so upset.

Suddenly the door swung open, Nat entering before quickly closing it again.

"I could hear her crying from down the hall. What happened?" Her own voice was laced with concern as she quickly moved to comfort you from the opposite side of Wanda.

"Bucky doesn't want to marry me!" You cried into your hands. "How could I have been so stupid?"

"Y/N, Bucky is crazy about you." Nat, ever the voice of reason, tried to calm you down.

"I know he loves me, but he doesn't wanna marry me." Your cries were calming down, silent tears streaming down your face as you hiccuped every so often.

"How do you know he doesn't want to marry you?" She questioned further, trying to get to the bottom of this. Nat knew, with 100% certainty, that he was planning to propose. She's seen the ring, even if nobody knows that she's seen it.

"I asked him if he ever thought about getting married..." You took a shaky breath, trying not to sob again. "And he said 'Nope. I don't believe in marriage.'"

Wanda and Nat made eye contact, each expressing their confusion over the words.

"Oh, honey. It's okay. Cry it out." Wanda let you lean into her and cry.

"I just, I feel so stupid." You sighed once more.

Marriage was never something you thought about until you met Bucky. Well, maybe when you were little, but who doesn't?

Ever since you discovered what it meant to be independent, you knew you didn't need to get married to live a fulfilling life. It wasn't something you deemed necessary.

At least, not before Bucky.

There's just something about how much you love him that makes you want to announce it to the world in front of your closest friends and family. You want to share that moment with him, where you express how completely devoted to each other you are.

Finding out Bucky doesn't want the same thing hurt.

"Y/N. You are absolutely not stupid. You love him, it only makes sense that you would think about a wedding." Wanda tried to console you as Nat put the pieces together in her head.

She knew Bucky must have a surprise proposal planned. He must've panicked when you asked him about getting married. Why he would panic that much is unknown to her, but still. That's the only explanation that makes sense. Of course, she couldn't tell you that.

"Bucky's an idiot if he doesn't want to marry you." She settled for blindly supporting your emotions instead.

"It's not me is it?" Your eyes went wide with fear.

"No, of course not!" Nat panicked. "You two are perfect together."

"Not perfect enough for him to want to marry me." You cried into Wanda's shoulder again.

Nat shook her head, silently pleading for Wanda to take over consoling you.

-

"Steve. I fucked up." Bucky couldn't stop replaying the look on your face when he said he doesn't believe in marriage. "And before you say anything about my language, there's no other word for how badly I just fucked up."

Steve eyed his friend with concern. "What did you do?"

"Well, Y/N, she's been hinting at wanting me to propose." He stalled briefly, not really wanting to admit it.

"That's a good thing. It means the two of you are on the same page." Steve tried to reassure him, blissfully unaware of what happened.

"I know. But, she flat out asked me if I ever think about getting married... and I panicked." Bucky refused to look Steve in the eye, opting instead to pace the room.

"Panicked how?" Steve's voice was hard. He always thought of you like a little sister, and if Bucky hurt you he would be livid.

"I told her... I told her I don't believe in marriage." Bucky mumbled under his breath, but Steve could still make out the words with his enhanced hearing.

"YOU DID WHAT?" His eyes went wide, mind stuttering with shock. All he could do was yell. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why on earth would you say that? Y/N must be so heartbroken right now! You know that she wants to marry you, and what do you do? Tell her you don't. You've really outdone yourself with the stupid this time, pal-"

"Steve! I know! I didn't mean it! I just didn't want to ruin the surprise. It's supposed to be this Friday!" Bucky tried defending himself, but he knew it was futile.

"Well, you can still do what you were planning... right?" Steve questioned, unsure if you would agree to the date.

"I hope so." Bucky nervously chewed his lip, trying to come up with a back up plan.

-

You were avoiding him. Everytime he tried to talk to you about going on a date on Friday, you somehow evaded the conversation entirely.

If you weren't on your way to training, you had plans with Nat or Wanda. If it wasn't plans with them, you absolutely had to finish a mission report. You always had an escape route, and it killed him that you felt like you needed to hide from him.

Bucky finally managed to corner you in the gym Thursday morning.

"Y/N!" He nearly screamed from the other side of the gym.

You took a deep breath, trying to ready yourself for the conversation.

"Hi Bucky." You greeted him with a small kiss.

It was time. You needed to talk to him. If he didn't want to get married, that had to be okay with you. You'd rather live your life with him as your boyfriend forever than not have him at all.

He seemed stunned by your greeting, having grown used to you trying to escape the second he entered a room.

"Hi..." He suddenly got quiet, not wanting to spook you.

"Um, what are you doing tomorrow?" He hasn't felt this awkward asking you on a date since the first time he asked you to get dinner with him.

"Nothing, I think." You were feeling just as awkward as Bucky.

"Perfect. I've got a surprise for you." He pulled you into a hug, feeling a sense of calm just from holding you.

"Oh, really?" You would have thought a proposal would be the surprise, but because of your last conversation you're left clueless.

"Yep." Bucky relaxed for the first time in days at the sight of your smile. "I'm taking you to dinner. You deserve it."

You couldn't stop the way your heart fluttered at seeing his cheeky smile. I can live my life like this. You thought to yourself.

"Ooh. Okay, well what should I wear?" You were already thinking over outfit options.

"Whatever you want. Something comfortable though." He was honestly nervous you would say no, so this is more progress than he expected.

"How mysterious. Okay, I've got to go. I'm supposed to meet Nat and Wanda. I love you." You kissed him quickly before leaving the gym.

-

"Ugh. I haven't been this nervous for a date with Bucky since... well since ever! I wasn't even this nervous the first time." You whined to Nat and Wanda. It felt like you had gone through every outfit in your closet and you still haven't found something to wear.

"Y/N, relax." Wanda picked out clothes for you, handing you one of your favorite cute and comfy outfits. "Wear this."

"The two of you love each other. That's all you need to think about right now." Nat reassured you as you changed for the fifteenth time.

"Exactly. Just go enjoy your date." Wanda encouraged you as well.

"What did I do to deserve the two of you." You pulled them into a group hug, laughing when they pushed you out the door.

You were still smiling when you ran into Bucky in the hallway.

"Oh. I was just coming to find you!" You kissed him quickly. "I wasn't sure what time you wanted to leave."

"That's what I was coming to find you for. I'm ready when you are, doll."

"Well, then. Let's go." You grinned when Bucky took your hand, leading you out of the compound and down to the lake.

He brought you right up to a picnic blanket that was already setup on the dock.

"I thought we could picnic tonight." He looked at you with a shy expression.

"Bucky, that's perfect. There's actually supposed to be a-"

"A meteor shower tonight." He finished for you. "That's actually why I planned a picnic."

The feelings of doubt and heartache that had been plaguing your mind for the last few days all but vanished in the blink of an eye.

"I love you so much." You leaned into his touch, sitting next to him while he pulled food from the picnic basket.

"I love you too." He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, handing you various foods.

The two of you fell back into natural conversation throughout the night. Any lingering nervousness left you, although Bucky kept fidgeting throughout the night.

It wasn't until after dessert that anything out of the ordinary happened.

"The meteor shower is supposed to start in a few minutes, do you want to go sit at the end of the dock?" Bucky stood, his hand out for you to grab.

You pulled yourself up, not letting go of Bucky's hand as you walked the short distance to the end of the pier. Just as you took the last step, you could see a few meteors shoot across the sky.

"It's beautiful." you gazed up at the stars, missing the deep breath Bucky took before sinking to one knee.

"Y/N, I think I fell in love with you the moment I met you. I didn't know it at the time, but I felt it. Every minute I've spent with you since then has been a gift."

The expression on your face could only be described as a mixture of shock, awe, love, and annoyance.

"When I was young, I used to think about who I would marry. I never thought of someone as incredible as you. After everything that happened, I didn't think I'd ever be worthy of someone's love. I still don't know how I convinced you to fall in love with me, but I'm grateful everyday that you did. There is nothing that would make me happier than spending the rest of my life as your husband."

He took a deep breath, looking right into your eyes as he asked the question.

"Will you marry me?"

"I- Yes. Of course I will marry you." You didn't even realize you were crying until Bucky wiped a tear from your cheek.

"I love you so much." He whispered as he slipped the ring on your finger.

"I love you too." You kissed him as soon as he stood up. Immediately stepping back to hit him.

"What was that for?" He looked affronted.

"'I don't believe in marriage.'" You mocked the deep timber of his voice.

Bucky laughed, pulling you closer to him. "I'm sorry." He pressed your foreheads together. "I really panicked when I thought you were going to ruin the surprise."

"You're such an idiot." You laughed. The two of you were all smiles as you held each other.

"Trust me, Steve let me know just how much of an idiot I am." Bucky shook his head. "He'll just be glad I've finally done it."

"Finally? How long have you had the ring?" You smiled as you glanced between your left hand and Bucky's face.

"A month. Not too long really. I think he was more annoyed with how long it took me to get the ring." He smiled, looking into your eyes.

"We've only been dating for 2 years. I wouldn't say that's abnormally long." Your brows furrowed.

"That is correct..."

"But?" You encouraged.

"But I told him I wanted to marry you the second we finished our first date."

permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner @jesuswasnotawhiteman @madewithsebstan

[maximoff-pan]

l’amore de ma vie | fred weasley

Summary: When Fred invites you to Bill and Fleur’s wedding, your feelings for your best friend are stronger than ever before. What happens when you realize just how much you love him?

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Fluff...i-is that a warning?? Anyway buckle up for some sickly sweet goodness....

A/n: I know, I’m terrible. It’s been a little while longer than I’d intended but I hope this makes up for it! Feedback is very very much appreciated! I love seeing what all of you think of my writing! Without further rambling from me....enjoy!

Sidenote: This is a total AU. It completely deviates from canon, as Bill and Fleur’s wedding goes smoothly in this version. No violence here haha...only happiness! (I guess what I’m trying to say is, in no way shape or form is this an accurate recollection of the books, this is purely from my imagination...)

• • • • •

“Fucking weddings...” you mutter as you walk through the massive white tent that adorns the front lawn of the Weasley residence. Everything is perfectly displayed, tables meticulously set, with delicate flowers littering the venue.

The romance of it all makes you want to throw yourself into Bill and Fleur’s masterfully crafted, six-tier cake. And watching as Molly rushes in and out swiftly with the brightest smile on her face, it all reminds you of how you should be getting ready right now. But you just can’t stomach that.

It’s not that you’re not happy for Bill....you’re ecstatic and you absolutely adore him. He’s been a role model for you almost your entire life. And it’s not like you’re not an absolute romantic, because you are...but weddings always make things complicated. They manage to dig up feelings that you’d rather not confront.

Feelings for a certain Weasley twin...

That’s why when he (said twin) and George invited you to the wedding, you were reluctant to say yes. It’s hard to pin point exactly when you felt your friendship with Fred (at least on your end), morph into something more, but you’ve managed to keep your feelings for him locked away for the better part of four years. And as far as you’re aware, the only person that’s truly caught on is Hermione...because you’re convinced at this point that she just knows damn well everything.

“Something on your mind?” A voice startles you, bringing your attention back to the bustling world surrounding you.

Turning around slowly, you’re greeted with Bill’s towering figure. You huff out a quick, teasing laugh. “You know, it’s not nice to interrupt a lady’s thoughts.”

“Forgive me,” he chimes with a chuckle of his own.

Bill knows your humour, and he knows you well enough to recognize when you’re using it as a defence mechanism.

“It just looks like you’re about ready to make a run for it,” he continues, “and I wanted to make sure my favourite guest doesn’t ditch me on my wedding day.”

“You know I would never ditch you.”

Bill sends you a look, clearly not impressed by your jokes. You can tell he knows something’s wrong, but you don’t want to be the first one to bring it up.

“I’m fine.” You reassure with a soft smile. “I promise.”

He only nods at you, and he’s not quite sure if he’s convinced, but he’s confident things will work out in the end. “You know, I best be getting ready.” He grins wide. You reciprocate his grin with an additional giggle.

“You best be. Or else Fleur might divorce you on the spot.”

“Wouldn’t that be a shame.” Bill shifts his weight from foot to foot. “I’d have the record for the shortest marriage in wizarding history! Mum would have an absolute shit fit.”

You both burst into a fit of laughter, before you’re nudging him out of the tent and towards his home.

There’s a comfortable pause of silence as Bill thinks to himself. He can see it in your eyes exactly what you’re thinking about. Having been around you for years and Fred even longer, and watching the two of you grow up together, he knows what’s troubling you. Bill Weasley is not a stupid man, and he knows love when he sees it. Better yet, he knows the fear of losing that love that runs rampant in your mind. If Bill has learned anything in his years on this earth, it’s that love allows for the greatest of happiness but it also allows for the greatest manifestation of fear. Unrequited love can be more painful than the relief of returned feelings, but Bill Weasley knows you both well enough to know that these feelings you and his brother share, they’re anything but unrequited.

“I should probably be getting ready too.” You break the silence and remind yourself of the upcoming event as you step through the front door of the Burrow.

You both turn to each other, acknowledging your parting of ways. You hear Arthur shouting for his oldest son from above. “I guess that’s my cue.” Bill simply nods in the direction of the staircase, taking a step towards it. You stand still, just watching him for a moment.

He leans his head over his shoulder for a brief second, already a few steps up the winding stairs. “Oh and (Y/n),” he breathes, “my brother may be an oblivious twat, but to give him some credit, I see the way he looks at you, and I’d be blind to say he isn’t in love with you too.”

In love with you too....

And as soon he’s said it, the cheeky bastard’s disappeared up the stairs, leaving you dumbfounded and completely still.

Fucking hell. Your mind wanders, his words at the forefront....so apparently Bill knows and surely if Bill knows, George must too. Are your feelings for Fred that obvious?

• • • • •

You step through the doorway to Fred and George’s room hoping to find a certain twin. You spot him sitting cross legged on his bed, fiddling with a prototype for the shop that you’re sure you’ve seen him working on before. His ginger hair is messily in his face, his tongue sticking out in concentration. He’s the picture of a working artist....pranking materials being his art. You heave a sigh. Like you, he’s nowhere near ready for the wedding that is going to take place in a few hours.

“Do you know?” His head whips up at the sound of your voice. It’s such a vague question, one in which a normal person would question what it itself is in relation to, but George knows exactly what you’re getting at. But maybe he’ll screw with you a little first....

“I know lots of things love. You’re going to have to be more specific.”

A groan passes your lips. Maybe he doesn’t know....but the way his lips are turned upward, the smirk that seems to be growing on his face tells you otherwise. You’re not blind; you know the games George Weasley likes to play.

“Don’t be coy asshole.” You send him a look that says ‘try me.’ “I know you know. My question is, why haven’t you told me that you know?”

“I haven’t a clue what you mean.” He continues testing the waters of your frustration, seeing just how far he can go before you snap.

“Oh fuck me!” You exclaim, hands thrown up in the air. You point at him, eyes narrowing in his direction. “You’re a prick George.”

His grin only widens. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got the wrong twin (Y/n). Last time I checked, Freddie’s the one you want to fuck.” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

And....Bingo. There it is. The exact confirmation you wanted and feared.

You recoil, eyes widening at him. Your voice goes soft, serious. “Why didn’t you tell me that you knew?”

His warm eyes meet yours, a calmness to them that is surprisingly reassuring. “I’ve made a living out of not taking things seriously and meddling in other people’s lives (Y/n), but what you and Fred have, I won’t meddle in that.” He pauses for a moment, his voice softening. “It’s not my business to push you two together. You’ll realize it at your own pace.”

“Realize what at your own pace?” Fred leans his body against the doorframe. He’s dressed in a suit, his hair done up nicely, and unlike his twin, he looks entirely put together. The irony almost makes you laugh. You’ve always known George to be the prepared one, ready hours before he needed to be. And Fred a scambler, leaving everything to the last second, to be fashionably late was his life motto.

“Just how stupid the two of you are going to look all dressed up with no dates.” George answers for you, keeping the true nature of your conversation a secret. “Even Ginny’s managed to catch the chosen one.”

You huff out a laugh. “You’re an idiot.”

“Ah,” George muses. “But I am an idiot with a date.”

Fred grins at the two of you and your banter. “Angelina’s better off without you as her date.” He jokes.

A laugh passes your throat, Fred joining in with you. “Oh, sod off!” George pipes before shoving the two of you out to get ready.

• • • • •

Hours later you find yourself ready on time, a shocking revelation to you and each of the Weasley’s. And George is too. He sits beside you grinning like a mad man. Fred is on your other side, smiling all the same.

The ceremony is wonderful and quaint. You knew the moment you saw Fleur all those years ago, just how beautiful she was, but you never could have imagined just how much you’d grow to think of her like a sister. And it’s funny because you’re neither a Delacour nor a Weasley, and yet you feel like you belong. It’s different from the love you know Harry and Hermione feel for the Weasley’s, because ultimately, they’ll both marry in and it will be official, and as much as you love Fred, you know that will likely never be the case for you. But that’s the thing you love most about Molly and Arthur and their children: you don’t have to be related by marriage or blood to be a Weasley.

And seeing Fleur and Bill smile, seeing the pure happiness that they exude in this moment, it makes you forget why you ever questioned coming. It makes you hope that one day you can find what they have. You’d spent the last few minutes mesmerized by their first dance as a married couple. You’re so caught in a trance that you don’t hear the clapping when they’ve finished and stepped off the dance floor.

Your eyes snap up at the clearing of a throat beside you. George nudges you and you turn to look at him. He points at Fred who’s gazing at you curiously. You must have looked like a daft idiot, an utter love struck expression on your face.

“I’m sorry.” You laugh. “Did you say something Freddie?”

“Dance with me?” He asks.

Fred’s question lingers as you contemplate whether or not to accept his outstretched arm. But then your eyes drift up to his, and you catch the mischievous glint that rests in them. It’s in that moment that you know there is no turning back.

Groaning, you relent into his touch. “One dance.” You say, but you know that if he asked, you’d dance the night away.

The grin that spreads onto his face is nothing short of beautiful. It’s unmistakably perfect the way the light catches his features, his ginger hair glowing in the overcast moonlight, and an ethereal aura glistens from his skin. Fred looks youthful...and he looks undeniably happy.

Gripping your hand, he leads you to the dance floor. You catch a brief glimpse of Bill whose lips are tugged into an encouraging smile. Fred snaps your attention back to him as he pulls you into his body, bringing your arms to rest around his shoulders. You can hear the faint thrumming of the slow and melodic music drifting towards you, but all you register is the sound of Fred’s heart beating against yours. Wrapping yourself in his embrace, you allow yourself one second to believe that he might feel the same.

Your feet move in sync almost flawlessly, and it’s as if you’re reading each other’s movements without any effort. (Despite being known for your clumsy nature). But if you’re being honest, it’s always been like that with Fred....easy that is. Easy to read each other, easy to be with each other. It’s just natural. 

“You’re quite graceful Freddie.” You nudge him playfully, breaking the silence between you. 

“And you’re quite...” his voice drifts softly, “something.”

The half scoff, half laugh you let out rings in his ears. “Are you implying that I’m not a good dancing partner?”

“You’re a formidable partner love, just a shit dancer.”

Your eyes light up in amusement. “Well we can’t all be as graceful and beautiful as you Fred Weasley.”

He plays along happily. “No.” He agrees. “I guess we can’t. But I reckon everything else about you, your beauty, your wit, your affinity for kindness, makes up for your lack of dancing skills.”

It’s that self assured attitude that draws you to him. Yet he’s not the slightest bit arrogant. He simply believes in himself, knows his strengths and his weaknesses, is completely aware of his self worth, and he won’t let anyone tell him otherwise. It’s addicting to be around, and a quality so desperately you wish you could find in yourself.

And when Fred compliments you, you can believe that he’s telling you the truth. He makes you believe things about yourself that you would never dream to think about on your own. As cheesy as it sounds, he makes you feel seen. He makes you feel special. And it’s so strange because for as long as you can remember, everyone has always thought of you as merely the best friend of the infamous Weasley twins. Hardly to anyone had you been your own person with your own identity. But Fred never made you feel like that. You’ve always been someone to him, not just a product of who you chose to be friends with.

“You shouldn’t say things like that you know.” Your voice goes quiet.

Fred notices the change in your body language as you begin to close yourself off from him. “Why not?” He asks. “It’s the truth isn’t it?”

Your eyes catch his and your breath hitches. This feels like something. It feels like a moment, the moment that you’ve been waiting for. You never believed Fred could ever feel the same for you, but the look he’s giving you feels so so real.

“Fred, do you-“ You start, but he cuts in for you.

“Feel it too?” He finishes.

“Yeah.”

“I do.” He replies.

Your heart races in your chest as he pulls you closer into his embrace. This confession of feelings is nearly wordless, and yet it feels perfect. You’ve never needed to say a lot to Fred for him to understand you.

You’ve always just had that kind of connection.

You barely notice that you’re still dancing, your bodies moving on autopilot. And the people around you fade to nothing. Your focus is solely on the man who holds your heart in his hands.

Your movements slow as Fred tilts your chin towards his face. “I’ve been in love with you since we were 11 years old.” He says. It’s nearly impossible for your mind to process it. “I’ve known for so long, I just didn’t want to ruin what we have. But I reckon if there’s ever a time to do it, now seems pretty good.”

A gentle smile rests on your face, your heart warm at his words. “Now is perfect.”

Fred hums softly, his warm brown eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. He sees nothing but adoration staring right back at him.

“Can I kiss you?” This is the first time you’ve seen Fred so timid.

You smile coyly, nodding your head. “Such a gentleman.” You tease, pulling him gently towards you. Your lips meet so softly and briefly that you almost miss it.

But no matter how brief, it’s a feeling you’ll never forget. You both want more of each other, but you also know that standing in front of Fred’s immediate and extended family and friends, you can’t simply put on a show for the world to see, as much as he wants to.

You pull back for a moment only to find yourself wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying to the music. Most people in your situation would say something. Maybe they’d profess their love, or whisper sweet nothings into their lover’s ear, but right here, right now, words don’t need to be used.

You don’t need to say I love you to feel that you are loved. And you know Fred feels the same.

• • • • •

Off to the side, Bill takes a moment to part from his wife, approaching his younger brother with a shit eating grin.

“Bloody hell.” George runs a hand through his hair, spotting Bill striding towards him.

Their eyes lock for a moment and George notices his oldest brother’s lip quirk upward. “You owe me 20 galleons.” Bill states matter-of-factly.

George grumbles, reaching into his pocket to pull out the payment. Handing it to Bill, he smiles. “Get back to your wife you tosser.”

Bill nods, taking a step towards Fleur. He turns to face his brother, eyes glinting with mischief. “Just know, when they get married, I’m telling everyone I won.”

///////////////////

Taglist:

@amourtentiaa

[peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology]

I'm so excited to read everything for Summer of Love ✨ could i request prompt 37 + 53 with Tom? Maybe friends to lovers 👀

YES I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THE VEGAS REQUEST I AM SO EXCITED

Okay no more screaming but I seriously hope you like it! This is one of my favorite prompts so I was super excited to get to do it 🥰🥰 Anyways, thanks for sending it in, feedback, as always, is appreciated and encouraged. Love you so so much xx

Drive Thru Wedding

37 - Getting drunk and getting married in Vegas

53 - "We are not platonic, and my feelings are never going to be platonic."

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (friends to lovers)

Warnings: light angst

Summary: You had a drive thru wedding with your best friend

Masterlist

Taglist

Summer of Love

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Tom sat up, groaning and rubbing his eyes as light streamed into the hotel room. The room slowly came into focus and he spotted (y/n) passed out on his bed. He knit his brow and padded towards the window, pulling the blinds closed to try and dull his throbbing head. He made his way to the bathroom, wincing as he turned on the light. He splashed water on his face before realizing he was still in the same clothes he’d put on the night before. With a heavy sigh he returned to the bedroom and peaked at his phone. Calls and texts from his family and Harrison, nothing unusual outside of the fact that it was nearly noon.

“Shit,” he swore, glancing back over at (y/n), “Darling wake up,” he set a hand on her back, shaking her lightly.

She groaned, “Go away.”

“It’s nearly noon, come on, time to get up,” he chuckled.

“Fuck you,” she swore back at him before rolling onto her back, “I feel awful.”

“Yeah, me too,” he sighed, “I barely remember last night.”

“Me either. I hope I didn’t do anything embarrassing…”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” he assured, “We should go get some water, and eat.”

“Good call, but I need to shower first,” she yawned as she finally sat up, “Mind if I use your shower?”

“No, no of course not, I’m just gonna call Haz.”

“Cool, I’ll be quick,” she promised.

“Take your time,” he waved her off as he punched in his friend's number.

“Ah, he lives,” Harrison teased as he picked up the phone, “How’s (y/n)?”

“Showering, we’re both a bit fucked,” he frowned, “You aren’t in the suite are you?”

“No, we got breakfast and now we’re heading for the mob museum. We were going to wake you guys up but it seemed like you needed the sleep. You want to come meet us here?”

“Maybe, we’ve got to go eat first though,” he sighed, “Dude, what happened last night?”

“We all got really trashed, you and (y/n) were taking shots and you two took the driver and disappeared. We were all too trashed to even notice you were missing until we left though, but you guys were passed out when we got back to the hotel, so we figured you must have just headed back,” he chuckled, “Don’t remember a thing huh?’

“Hardly, I mean I remember being at the club for a while, but I don’t remember leaving…”

“Does she remember anything?”

“No, I don’t think she remembers anymore than I do.”

“That’s good, at least if you, you know, confessed something, she doesn’t remember.”

Tom blushed, “Yeah, that’s a plus…”

It was obvious to Harrison that something was wrong, “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Tom sighed, “I’ve just got this feeling something happened, I just can’t remember what.”

“Hey, I’m sure if you did anything too bad it’d be in the news by now. You probably just threw up or fell or something.”

“Probably, I just hope no one got it on video.”

“I’m sure they didn’t, look I gotta go, our Uber’s here, but let me know if you end up heading our way.”

“Yeah, no problem, I’ll get back to you in a bit.”

Tom rubbed his eyes and dug around his suitcase for some fresh clothes, after finding them he headed across the suite to use a different bathroom. He desperately wanted to clean up and figure out exactly what had occurred the night before. She still looked exhausted when they reunited outside of his room, he was sure he didn’t look any better.

“Everyone went out already huh?”

Tom nodded, “Yeah, they’re at the mob museum right now. They said we can meet up with them if we want, I figure we can see how we feel after we eat.”

“Good idea,” she rubbed her stomach with a sigh, “Do you think a mimose would help or hinder me right now.”

He smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, “Definitely hinder. I think both of us should be on an alcohol detox today.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she sighed, “Alright, a boring, virgin breakfast it is.”

“Oh you poor thing,” he laughed as they stepped onto the elevator, “It’s just tragic.”

They both opted for something easy on the stomach, simple eggs and fruits, regretting that they didn’t bring sunglasses down from the hotel room. They were both certain they couldn’t make it through a day on the strip, the lights and noise were bound to be too much, which ruled out the possibility of going to meet their friends. Tom still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, it was an unreachable itch in the back of his mind.

“What do you remember from last night?”

“Uh, being at the club, doing some shots,” she tapped her chin, “I don’t know Tom, not much, it’s all kind of blurry really.”

“Same here. I just wonder where we were…”

“I’m sure we just came back here,” she yawned, “I mean you’re pretty high profile, if we were out doing anything crazy I’m sure we would have heard about it by now.”

“Yeah, probably…”

“Mr. Holland?” the waiter approached their table with a smile, “I have something for you from the front desk.”

“Oh, thanks,” he frowned at the manilla envelope placed in front of him, “Uh, who’s this from?”

“Your diver returned it this morning.”

“Thanks,” he repeated as he tore into the envelope, suddenly going wide eyed at its contents, “What the…”

(y/n) frowned and scooted towards him, “I wanna see.”

Before them laid a series of photos of them, clearly taken the night before at the Little White Chapel. (y/n) held a bouquet and Tom held her, his lips pressed to her cheek in one photo and her lips in the next.

“Holy shit,” (y/n)’s jaw nearly hit the floor, “No fucking way…”

“We must have been there for someone else,” Tom tried to explain.

“With a bouquet? Kissing?” (y/n) frowned at him, “Oh my god we eloped in Vegas!”

“Guess you can mark that one off your bucket list,” Tom tried to joke.

“Tom!” she flushed, “This is serious! We need to go somewhere right away and get this annulled!”

“Look even if we did do it, it doesn’t mean it was legally binding, I mean we were drunk, they probably just let us take some pictures to entertain us.”

“God I hope so,” she groaned, “We need to go down there now, get this sorted out right away.”

“I’ll call a driver,” Tom assured, “We’ll sort this out.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

(y/n) drummed her finger along her arm nervously while the elder lady at the chapel typed away at her computer, checking if anything had been registered under either of their names.

“Oh, yep, here it is,” she smiled to them, “Looks like we did hold a wedding for you two last night.”

“Like a real, legal one?” (y/n) pressed.

She nodded, “Yep, you two are married.”

“W-Well you have to delete it,” she demanded.

“Oh hunny, I can’t do that,” she apologized, “You’ll have to go to the county court to apply for an annulment.”

She groaned and Tom smiled at the lady as he ushered her towards the door, “Thanks for all your help, have a nice day.”

“You’re welcome!” she called after them cheerfully.

“This sucks,” (y/n) pinched her brow as they returned to the car, “I guess we’re going to the county court then.”

“We’ll get this sorted out,” Tom blushed, “I just hope we can stay friends after the divorce.”

She laughed while he gave instructions to the driver, “Depends how big my alimony checks are.”

“Why are you the one that gets alimony checks? What about me huh?”

“Because there’s no way I make more money than you movie star,” she poked his chest, “I’m taking Tessa too.”

“Oh now you’re taking it way too far,” he shook his head, “You can take the kids, and the houses, and the money, but no way you’re taking Tessa.”

“Dick,” she shook her head, “After everything we’ve been through, I can’t even keep the dog?”

“Absolutely not,” he laughed, “That’s my baby, I’ll go to war over her.”

“You used to talk that way about me,” (y/n) rolled her eyes, “See this is exactly why we’re getting this divorce.”

“Maybe we should have tried counseling,” he hummed, “You know I don’t think it would be so bad.”

“A divorce?”

“No, if we were married,” he flushed, “I mean just cause we’re like best friends and everything…”

“Yeah but you don’t marry your best friend,” she laughed, “You marry the love of your life.”

“I know, I know, I’m just saying, you know,” he wrung his hands nervously, embarrassed he’d said anything at all.

“What? That’d we’d be a super hot celebrity power couple? Because that’s totally true,” she smiled, “We’d be the best dressed at every premier.”

“Yeah, we’d be a good power couple…”

“I’m sure you and your eventual wife will also be a power couple,” she squeezed his arm with a big smile, “Well, second wife.”

He nodded and pursed his lips, “Can you believe we kissed?”

She laughed, “Oh yeah, lucky you.”

He was upset he couldn’t remember their first, and possibly only kiss, he always imagined it would be more special. “It’s just weird not remembering any of it.”

“I just don’t even know where we got the idea,” she sighed, “I wonder if we drove by it or something…”

“I don’t know, maybe we just talked about it.”

“Maybe, like we got all drunk and got up in our feels.”

“Probably.”

“Tom, what's wrong?” she frowned at him.

“Nothing, I’m just hungover,” he insisted.

“Alright, well we can go lay down again after we sort this out.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

They were quiet the rest of the drive, with Tom growing more and more anxious as they approached the courthouse. It wasn’t that he wanted to be married, but he wanted some kind of relationship. He wanted to confess that he liked the idea of kissing her and being married to her and all of that, he just couldn’t seem to spit it out.

“Hi,” (y/n) smiled at the woman at the front desk, “This is kind of embarrassing but we got really drunk last night and ended up getting married, we just needed to file for an annulment.”

“Happens all the time,” she nodded, “Just fill this out and we’ll call you back to get this sorted out.”

“Thanks,” she took a clipboard and sat down beside Tom, “Time to start dividing assets.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Tom took the board from her and began scribbling information down.

“Oh come on, I’m not that bad of a wife.”

“Ah, what’s got you in a sour mood Tommy?”

“Nothing,” he insisted, “I’m just trying to get this over with.”

“(y/n).”

“Fine, fine, I’ll just sit here,” she sighed, “Guess we aren’t getting divorce ice cream after this huh?”

Tom said nothing.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Tom continued to be quiet as they signed papers and drove back to the hotel, all (y/n) could get with her were one word responses. She wasn’t sure what had changed and made him so upset. She was worried he’d gotten a message from his managers or something.

“Tom come on, you can tell me what’s going on,” she begged, “I know you're upset.”

“It’s nothing okay? I keep telling you I’m fine.”

“But you aren’t, I know you aren’t, and I’m just trying to help, you know you can tell me anything.”

He pinched his nose, “I can’t tell you about this.”

“Of course you can,” she set her hand on his back with a frown, “You can tell me anything.”

“I don’t know, today was just stressful.”

“I’m sure no one saw anything, somebody would have contacted you already.”

“Not about that,” he sighed.

“Okay, what about then?”

“What if I didn’t want to get the annulment?”

She wrinkled her brow in confusion, “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because it’s you,” he blushed.

“You want us to have some kind of platonic marriage?” she laughed.

Without a word he cupped her face, pressing his lips to hers for a bruising kiss, “We are not platonic, and my feelings are never going to be platonic.”

Her whole face flushed and her jaw hung open in shock, “You’re into me?”

“I’m completely crazy about you,” he nodded.

“S-So you want to marry me?”

“No, no,” he shook his head, “Not right now at least. But I don’t want to throw away any chance of us being together.”

“Tom annulling our drunk Vegas wedding isn’t the same as throwing away any chance of us being together,” she bit her cheek, “I mean I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m into you.”

His cheeks flushed bright red, “Really?”

She nodded, “Obviously dummy, I don’t think I would have married you if I didn’t.”

He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, “So it would be cool if I wanted to take you on a date?”

“Very cool,” she nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck, “But maybe this time we can wait a little longer for the proposal.”

“Yeah well a Vegas drive thru was never exactly my dream wedding anyway,” he squeezed her waist and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Maybe we should go somewhere without alcohol though, just to be safe.”

“Considering my head’s still throbbing, I actually think I’m good on drinking for the rest of the year,” she got on her tiptoes, giving Tom another quick kiss.

“Speaking of which, how would you like to come take a hangover nap with me, girlfriend.”

“Sounds like a lovely use of our time, boyfriend.”

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Taglist:

@niallberry @spideyssunshine @namoreno @thevery-firstpage @outshineallthestars @roseke @zspideyy @emistrash @andreagf956 @tomsirishgirlx @peachyafshawn @agbspidey

[myhockeyworld87]

What Happens In Vegas...Doesn’t Always Stay There - Jacob Markstrom - Part 2

Word Count: 4,845

POV: Reader

Warning: Language, NSFW, Smut

Notes: Well you guys have spoken and it looks like this the fic you wanted posted. Don’t worry, I’ll be posting the others soon. But in case you were wondering where we left. Our reader was in Vegas at a bachelorette party, when she had a few too many drinks and wound up married to one Jacob Markstrom. Let’s see what happens next. As always feedback is welcome. Happy Reading!

What Happens In Vegas...Doesn’t Always Stay There Masterlist

"Fuck," you yelled, once you realized that you were now Mrs. Markstrom. This couldn't be happening. Your brain couldn't be remembering things right.

"Vad? Vada r fel?" Jacob mumbled in a haze of sleep, lifting his head to check on you. You had no idea that he was asking you what was wrong, as he automatically defaulted to Swedish in his drowsy state. "Are you ok?"

"No, no I'm not." Your voice was panicked and you were starting to break out in a cold sweat. "We're married!"

 His head flopped back down on the pillow. "Oh, that."

 Wait he knew and wasn't saying anything. "That," you said with a note of distress in your voice. "What do you mean 'oh, that?'"

 He turned his head so that he faced you, as you straightened your body so you could rest against the headboard; fighting the urge to get up and pace the room. "It was a joke. We just took a couple pictures with some Elvis."

 A joke? Ok, that kind of seemed like drunk you, after all everyone said you were a fun drunk. You sagged back against the mattress, breathing a sigh of relief. "So that's all it was, a joke?"

 "Mmmhmm." Well, that made you feel a bit better. "From what I remember it was. Things are a bit hazy." Jacob saying that, did not. He got up then, rolling onto his side and propping his head up. "I vaguely recall saying we were just going to snap some pictures and show your friend how silly it was to rush into things. I'm sure that's all we did." He had to be right, that part of the night still eluded you, though you do remember wandering into the chapel. "Though we can still pretend we're on our honeymoon if you want."

 His free hand, the one his head wasn't propped up on, slid under the duvet and across your midsection. His fingers wandering down to your core. His eyebrows wiggled suggestively, a silent plea for you to let him keep going. Now that you were a bit more relieved at knowing your marriage to him was some elaborate rouse, you were a bit more inclined for that second round with him, so you smiled giving him the green light to continue.

 Jacob didn't need to be told twice, as you felt his fingers widening your legs to give him access to your pussy. His fingertips lightly brushed against you and you sucked in a breath. "Fan du ar vat." You had to admit that Swedish wasn't the most seductive language, but when it rolled off his tongue it turned you into jelly. He recognized that you didn't know what he was saying and translated for you. "Fuck, you're wet." You were, there was no denying that, as this man just did things to you by simply giving you a look.

 He wasted no time sliding a finger inside you while his thumb brushed against your clit. You couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips as he made your body tingle with delight. "So sensitive, prinsessa. I love that." His mouth kissed the outside of your thigh as he still laid on his side, his fingers torturing you. "I may not remember all of last night," Jacob admitted. "But I remember hearing you moan." As if on cue, you groaned out when his finger hit your most delicate spot. "So pretty." He removed his fingers and you whined at the loss of contact. "Ride me, prinsessa." He rolled onto his back, giving your thigh a squeeze.

 There was no denying your needs right then. You wanted him inside you, so you straddled him. Knees on either side of his hips, you positioned his cock right at your entrance. You savored the feel of him sliding inside you as you sunk down on him slowly, fully engulfing his dick inside you. Jacob's hands slid up and down your sides caressing your body. After your tumble with him last night, you knew your hair had to be a disaster, so you ran your fingers through your locks, hoping to at least make yourself a bit more presentable as you rode him.

 Unbeknownst to you, the picture you painted Jacob was nothing short of pornography; arms raised above your head, tits bouncing, as you slowly moved your hips against him. While his memory of last night was a bit hazy, being buried inside you wasn’t. He clearly recalled needing to get ahold of himself before he spent in you too soon. Now was no different, as he gripped your hips hard then wildly bucked up into you.

 His movements thrilled you and had you bracing yourself against the headboard as he fucked you. He had told you to ride him but wasn’t willing to give over the reigns completely, but that was ok with you. He slowed his thrusts, giving you back just a bit of control, yet his hands lingered at your waist ready to take it back at any minute. You ran your hands up your side, then cupped your breasts, gently pulling on the nipples. “My god, you’re beautiful,” Jacob panted out as you looked down at him through hooded lashes.

 The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room. Jacob’s fingertips dug into your ass cheeks as you picked up your pace, riding him earnestly now. His hips met you every time you ground down on him. At one point Jacob couldn’t take it anymore and he moved his one hand so he could toy with your clit. “Oh fuck,” you breathed out when he rubbed the little nub. “Jacob…I’m gonna…” The rest was a garbled mess as you came hard grinding down on his rock-hard cock inside you.

 “Yes, prinsessa.” Jacob watched you fall apart loving every emotion that played across your face. It pushed him over the edge and with a few more thrusts he spilled his cum deep inside your cunt.

 Your body was spent as you sagged forward on top of Jacob. You were both breathing hard, chest heaving in an effort to draw in more air. After a few seconds, you felt his lips on you; kissing your forehead, your nose, and then finally your lips. The kiss was sweet and loving, perfect after the sweaty and exhausting sex that had just happened. “Min vackra prinsessa,” he whispered, tucking your hair behind your ear as it had cascaded around the two of you obscuring his view of your face. “Too bad our marriage is a joke, for I could get used to that.”

 “We don’t have to be married for you to enjoy that again.” You pecked his lips then lifted off of him and rolled onto your side of the bed. “Come see me in LA anytime.”

 “You realize I’ll be there at least four times with my schedule, and San Jose isn’t too far from you.” His body was turned towards you so that you could see the seriousness in his face.

 “Well, I expect to be seeing my fake husband when he’s in town.” You gave him a little wink before adding, “And I think the trip to San Jose would be totally worth it.” He got up then and walked to the bathroom. You heard the water running and it wasn’t more than a minute or two before he was back at the bed.

 “Here.” He brought you a glass of water and a couple aspirin. It was exactly what you needed.

 “Thank you.”

 “Sleep, it’s still early, then we’ll shower later.” He dropped a kiss to your lips while tucking the covers up around then crawling into bed with you. He tucked you into his side and you swiftly drifted back to sleep.

 It was a couple hours later that Jacob woke up before you. His mind troubled with thoughts. It wasn’t a bad dream so much as a nagging feeling eating away at him. He carefully removed himself from the bed careful not to disturb you as you continued to sleep on peacefully. Covering himself with a pair of boxer briefs, he grabbed a bottle of water then sat down on the sofa in the suite. On the table lay the pictures from your fake wedding. He picked them up, laughing to himself at the photo on top. It was a dramatic shot of him asking you to marry him, and you acting shocked. He vaguely remembered doing that but the rest was all a blur. He leafed through the other shots. One of a fake Elvis, which seemed to be typical Vegas style, another of you kissing him after the proposal, still more of you being married by Elvis. They would all make for a cute memory of his time with you. Hell, part of him wished that he was married to you. He wouldn’t mind being buried balls deep in you every night.

 Jacob finally got to the last photo, or what he thought was the last picture; only it was some sort of document. He flipped it so that he could read it better. “Fuck,” he whispered softly as he read the words so nicely scripted across the paper. It seemed to be a marriage license, signed not only by both of you but the Elvis impersonator as well, whose name wasn’t Elvis and seemed to be a legitimately licensed marriage officiant.

 He needed to find out if this was real, so grabbing the hotel phone off the end table, he called the chapel. “Hello Mr. Markstrom, how can I help you?” An overly cheerful woman answered the phone.

 “Um, yeah, so I was wondering…I was there last night with…” He had to look down at the license to remember your last night. “Ms. (Y/LN) and I have our license in my hand. I was just wondering how valid this is?”

 “Oh, I can assure you Mr. Markstrom that it is one hundred percent authentic and has been filed electronically with the courthouse. You and Ms. (Y/LN) are indeed married. We make sure to dot all the I’s and cross all the T’s before we let you leave.”

 Jacob covered the phone then muttered, “Fuck.”

 “Is there anything else you need?”

 “No, um…I’m good. Thank you.”

 “No problem and congratulations again to you and the new Mrs. Markstrom.”

 Jacob hung up the phone and swore furiously in Swedish. You stirred, hearing something but not really registering what was going on, as you blinked your eyes several times clearing the sleep from them. The bed was empty next to you, and you found yourself sitting up looking for Jacob. He wasn’t in the bathroom, so you got up and padded out to where the seating area was. Sure enough there he was sitting with his head in his hand. “Head hurt that bad?” He groaned in reply. “Come back to bed and I’ll make it feel better.”

 He lifted his head up and turned to you then, a serious look in his eyes. “You’re not going to like this, prinsessa.” Well, if he was calling you princess again, it couldn’t be all bad. You raised an eyebrow in query. “Apparently, we’re married.”

 “Right, you told me it was a joke.” You sat down on the couch beside him, noticing the scattered photos on the table. “See, like I would ever get married by some Elvis doppelganger.”

 “It wasn’t a joke.” He handed over what looked like a marriage license, a very authentic one at that. Leave it to Vegas to be thorough even in practical joking. “There’s a seal on it and everything.” He was right there, but that would mean that this was real.

 “Oh, no….no, no, no….no. This isn’t real. You said…”

 “I know what I thought, but I wasn’t one hundred percent sure. So I called.” There was a look of dread on his face. "The paperwork has already been filed at the courthouse. Yay for technology."

 You knew he was trying to find a bit of humor in this mess, but frankly, you didn't find it funny at all. "Now what?"

 "I was just trying to come up with that when you came in."

 It hit you then, the solution to your problem. Maybe if you hadn't drunk enough alcohol to float a small ship last night it would've come to you sooner. "We'll just get an annulment."

 "Is that possible, after last night and well this morning?"

 "Hmm, I hadn't thought about that. Well, divorce it is." It wasn't ideal and you can't imagine having to explain it down the line, years from now, when you finally found someone you wanted to be tied down to, but it was the answer to your problem.

 Jacob seemed to mull it over a bit, and it struck you that he might be religious and that this might not be an option after all. "I'll make a phone call," he finally told you and you breathed out a sigh of relief. It took the two of you several minutes to locate your phones but eventually, you found them. While Jacob called his lawyer, you checked your messages. There were several texts from the girls saying they were heading to breakfast, so you shot one off yourself. There was no way you were meeting them yet, so you cried off stating that you were still hungover from the day before. You were really going to need to patch things up with Kennedy after all this trip was about her. Hopefully, you could share a laugh with her about this whole mess.

 A curse word muttered, or at least you thought it was, one in Swedish, brought you back to the situation at hand, and you looked at Jacob expectantly. "Apparently, it's not as easy as we think." He blew out a very frustrated sigh. "It's still doable, but it's going to take a lot longer than I expected."

 "How long?"

 "A couple months after the papers are signed and filed, possibly more."

 "What!?! You've got to be kidding me." That didn't make any sense at all. Shouldn't you be able to get a quickie divorce in a week when both parties were in agreement?

 "Well, my citizenship is one factor, but apparently it just takes that kind of time."

 "We got married in like, what...seconds. I don't understand." You started scrolling through your contacts looking for Aaron's number, then hit it and started to walk away.

 "Who are you calling?"

 "A friend, who's also an attorney." Aaron worked for the same firm as you, only in the legal department. Surely he'd dealt with a celebrity or two that had this same problem.

 You gave Aaron the condensed version of what happened, hoping that he'd come through and be your savior. "I hate to say it (Y/N), this Jacob's attorney is right. It's going to take you that long, if not longer." A growl of frustration was all you gave as an answer. "Cheer up babe, it could be worse."

 "Really? How so?"

 "Well, you could've picked some homeless guy off the street. At least this one sounds decent, and it's not like you have to move to Canada or Sweden while you wait this out. Just go on about your business."

 "I know, you're right. Thanks for your help, Aaron. I'll see you in a day or two." With that, you hung up the phone and headed back to Jacob.

 "Looks like you didn't fare any better."

 You sat heavily down on the couch. "No, not at all. Looks like we better start filing so we can get this done sooner than later." The look in Jacob's eye had you questioning things. You had thought you both were on the same page. Sure last night and this morning were fun, but what did you really know about each other. He couldn't really be thinking about staying married. When you couldn't take it any longer, you blurted out, "what?"

 He shook his head. "Nothing." When you gave him that look that said you didn't believe him he finally fessed up. "You're wearing my shirt."

 "Oh, sorry. I realized when I was on the phone I didn't have anything on. Hope you don't mind."

 Jacob actually didn't mind at all, in fact, he kind of liked you in it, which was a new feeling. "No, not at all. Though I'll admit I like you without anything on as well."

 It was hard to stop your eyes from rolling at his words especially at a time like this, but somehow you managed to. "While I appreciate the compliment, we should probably figure out what we're going to do." It was then that you looked at him, in only his boxers. His washboard abs calling out to your fingertips to just run over them, not to mention the strain of his cock against those briefs. You bit your lip just thinking about the things that you wanted to do to him and have him do to you. "And once that's done, then we can celebrate our divorce."

 "I like the way you think." He scooted you closer on the couch so that your legs were draped over his. "I was thinking that while you were on the phone, that I can just have my lawyer handle things. He said he could have everything drawn up in a couple days since we don't have to split up a house or any belongs."

 "That's fine. You can email me them and I'll just sign and send them back."

 "He did mention one thing, though I'm loathed to bring it up." His hand was traveling up and down your shins making it hard to think, but you were intent upon getting this divorce started.

 "Just tell me, after all, we are married, and married people shouldn't have secrets right?" I mean it was a bad joke, you'll admit that, but then if you couldn't laugh about this shamble of a mess you may start to cry.

 "He wanted to make sure that you weren't after, well...you know."

 Your eyebrows drew together as you tried to figure out his meaning, and then it hit you. "Oh my god! No, I'm not after any money. I would never and it's not like I don't have my own. I mean it's probably not anything close to what you make, but I do bring in quite a bit. Oh my god, I'm rambling. But no, no, I don't want a cent from you."

 "I told him I thought that was the case, but he wanted me to be sure."

 "Ok as long as you didn't think that."

 Jacob was quick to tell you he didn't. "No, not at all. If I'm being honest, I think getting married was my idea, if I remember right."

 "I wish I could remember more, though these pictures do bring back a few memories. I can't remember how we got these rings though. What is this cubic zirconia?"

 "Umm, nope." His cheeks started to turn a delightful shade of red. "My credit card tells me it's a diamond."

 "Oh Jacob," you exclaimed, taking off the ring. "This has to be a fortune. It's at least three carats." Quickly, you put the ring in his hand as if it was going to burn you. This fake marriage had caused enough damage that he didn't need to be on the hook for a ring that you'd never wear again.

 "You know I can afford it right?"

 "Of course, I know that. You just shouldn't have to pay for my mistake."

 "It wasn't just your mistake." It was sweet of him to try and shoulder the blame, but if you wouldn't have had that tiff with Kennedy, then you wouldn't have gotten drunk ass stupid and married him. "We both did this, but there's no point in arguing about it. In a few short months, this marriage will be over."

 "True."

 "Let me give him a quick call and get things started." You went to move but Jacob stilled you with his arm. The conversation was brief, his hand was inching further up your thighs during the entire call, sending delightful tingles all over your body. As soon as he hung up, that same hand reached your core. "So now that that's settled. What about that celebration? You know while we're still married and all."

 You'd already said you weren't making it to brunch with everyone, so there was really no reason, not to indulge in what you wanted. Scooting up a little further onto his lap, you grabbed the back of his neck and drew his lips down to yours. One kiss melted into another and another until neither of you could take it any longer and Jacob took you there on the sofa. After that, it was round 4 in the shower.

 You and Jacob exchanged numbers so that you could keep in touch while the divorce papers were being worked on by his lawyer. Since both of you were still in Vegas another night, you agreed to meet up a little later. Jacob claiming that it was safer to be with his 'wife' than out looking for another one.

 It was an hour after leaving Jacob before you were knocking on Kennedy’s door, there to apologize for everything you said to her the day before. She opened the door, and without so much as a hello, grabbed your arm and hauled you inside. “You have to tell me everything that happened?” How the hell did she know what had happened with Jacob. She was your best friend and all, but the last time you checked she was not a psychic. “I called Ryan and he told me those guys were from the Canucks, which happen to be his favorite hockey team in the world.” Somehow you really weren’t shocked to find that out. Considering Ryan was from Seattle and an avid sports fan. “When Jade told me, you were hooking up with one of them, I died. I need to know everything.”

 Oh, you weren’t sure if she was ready to hear everything. “Can I first apologize for being an absolute asshole to you yesterday?”

 “You can, but there’s no need. I know your feelings about marriage and how you think we’re rushing into it. I get that you were just looking out for me and only want me to be happy, and you know I’ll be happy with Ryan. I wasn’t really mad at you, per se. It was more about smoothing things over with Gretchen. You know how she can be.” You did know how Gretchen was, which was why you felt even worse for saying what you did, when you did. “(Y/N), you’re the closest thing I’ll ever have to a sister, and nothing you say is ever going to change that.”

 You enveloped her in a massive hug. There were times that you felt as if you and Kennedy were twins separated at birth and it was nice to know she felt that way too. “I really am sorry.”

 “It’s already forgiven. Now, tell me everything that happened, or more importantly; can you get any of their autographs so I can take them back to Ryan?”

 “Oh, I’m pretty sure I can get us seats to any game if he wants to go?”

 Kennedy's face was filled with a mixture of shock and joy. “Really?”

 “Yeah, I’m pretty sure they have a family suite or something for wives to sit in.”

 This time you watched as that same shocked look turned into confusion. “I’m not following you?”

 “Well…I kind of sort of…” Kennedy might be your best friend, who knew you better than yourself, but you still didn’t know how to tell her this. It was always easiest to just rip the bandaid off, you supposed. “That is…I got married last night.”

 “YOU WHAT?”

 “Little louder, Kenny I don’t think they heard you at the Bellagio.”

 “I’m sorry but you cannot just drop that bomb on me and expect me not to shout at you like you lost your damn mind.” Ok, she had a point. You had in fact lost your mind and your memory. Damn alcohol. “You need to tell me everything right now.”

 It took you a half hour to tell Kennedy all the details of what had happened with Jacob. She was stunned, to say the least. In the end, the only thing she wanted to know was if you were now her matron of honor instead of maid. Leave it to Kennedy to make you laugh at a time like this. She agreed to keep your marriage a secret from the other girls and you hoped that she didn’t blurt it out like she did your little sexcapade with Superman, though she insisted that all of you meet up with Jacob and some of his teammates that night.

  Like you, Jacob had only told one other person about what happened that night, his friend and teammate Chris; to everyone else, it just seemed as though you two were very interested in one another. At the end of the night, you were fumbling back into his suite, divesting him of every garment he had on, while he did the same to you. The next morning, you said your goodbyes but decided to keep in touch. Jacob promised you there would be tickets with your name on them anytime you wanted them in Vancouver and that he’d definitely see you when he was in LA. It was something you were definitely looking forward to. Despite the whole marriage debacle, or maybe because of it, you had to say that your trip to Las Vegas was one you were definitely going to remember for a lifetime.

 Twenty-four hours later, when you were back in your own place, still trying to rehydrate from the past seventy-two hours, is when you received a phone call from Jacob. He called to make sure that you got back to Los Angeles and that everything was fine. It was actually kind of sweet. It was about sixteen hours after that, that you found yourself calling him after his first practice. One conversation rolled into the next and so on until you were talking at least twice a day. He talked about hockey and his life in Sweden as well as Vancouver, while you told him about LA and your job there. Family and friends were a topic that came up often, almost to a point that you felt as if his teammates were your friends as well. Sure, there were the occasional nights where phone sex ended up taking place, though you had to admit it was much better than some of the dates you’d gone on in the past. If one was on the outside looking in, they probably wouldn’t understand why you were actually going through with the divorce. That thought didn’t stop you from signing the documents and sending them back to Jacob though.

 As the season started, Jacob still made time to talk to you every day. He even started to wonder if the circumstances had been different and the two of you had met in Vancouver or LA, would you be an actual couple at this point. He had to admit that your conversations were the highlight of his day. You were smart and funny with a wit about you that he enjoyed, and well to say that you were attractive was a complete understatement in his book. If Jacob was being honest with himself, you were his ideal woman.

 Which is why when the divorce papers came in, almost a month after he met you, he simply threw them on his desk and vowed to take them to his attorney soon. Unfortunately, he forgot he had an extended road trip coming up, which made him forget about them completely. They only crossed his mind once while he was gone when you’d asked him if he got them. He tried to make a mental note to remember them when he got home, but not only did they slip his mind, but they also got buried in a mountain of mail on his desk.

 The following week when he got home was a bit crazy. He missed a night in calling you when a game went into overtime. When he tried to the next day you didn’t answer. Jacob tried not to give it too much thought or take it personally, though his mind told him differently. He knew that you had a big ad campaign coming up and that work had started to consume your life. He just hoped it wasn’t with some hot male stripper or movie star.

 When you didn’t answer the phone the following three days, Jacob started to believe that what the two of you had or were starting to have, never really existed. He had resigned himself that he’d probably never see or hear from you again. Oh, how he was wrong.  

.

[mhevarujta]

Zoya and the Darkling [Rule of Wolves Spoilers]

It’s a pity that fandoms mostly focus on romantic/sexual relationships, because The Darkling and Zoya have one of the most epic dynamics in the Grishaverse. The way they affect each other is so complex.

Zoya did not go to the Little Palace after being tested in the usual manner of Grisha travelling across Ravka to recruit children with powers. She was a young girl, a child really, living with a bitter and broken mother, in a home where her Suli inheritance was not appreciated, in a country that would condemn her both because of the power she let her demonstrated AND because of who she would have been without it. She was basically sold as a child-bride and her mother deluded herself into thinking that her daughter would not be raped by the old man she was marrying so that she’d feel better about herself, not to mention that she poisoned Zoya with her fears and made her afraid of her own heart. At the wedding her power broke loose and her aunt took her to a hard journey to the Little Palace so that Zoya would be tested and have a chance at a better life.

Zoya was taken in and she was separated from her family, but her aunt was ALWAYS in her heart. She started training and she was stronger than most, she was also driven and resilient. She arrived at the Little Palace when she was 8-9. When she was 13, she was the youngest one to be chosen as part of a group that would travel with the Darkling to Tsibeya to find the white tigers of Ilmisk because one of them was supposed to be an amplifier. By that age, Zoya was half in love with him already and she lived for his rare appearances at the school. She was the best, she had fought to be so, and he wanted him to see it. The Grisha were focused on hunting the female tiger, but the amplifier was a male one. He tried to kill the female’s cubs and Zoya gave them the protection of her body, she got scars that she never had tailored and she almost died, and killed the tiger to defend the cubs; not for the sake of power.

It wasn’t HER turn to get the amplifier, but since she killed the tiger only she could claim it. And THIS brilliant scene happens:

Some part of me always feared that he would send me away, banish me forever from the Little Palace. I told him I was sorry.

“But the Darkling saw me clearly even then. ‘Is that really what you wish to say?’ he asked.”

Zoya pushed a dark strand of her hair behind her ear. “So I told him the truth. I put my chin up and said, ‘They can all hang. It was my blood in the snow.’”

Nikolai stifled a laugh and a smile played over Zoya’s lips. It dwindled almost instantly, replaced by a troubled frown. “That pleased him. He told me it was a job well done. And then he said … ‘Beware of power, Zoya. There is no amount of it that can make them love you.’”

The weight of the words settled over Nikolai. Is that what we’re all searching for? Was that what he’d hunted in all those library books? In his restless travels? In his endless pursuit to seize and then keep the throne? “Was it love you wanted, Zoya?”

She shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so. I wanted … strength. Safety. I never wanted to feel helpless again.”

  “Like calls to like” fits the Darkling and Alina, but it also fits Zoya and the Darkling… in fact it fits Zoya and Aleksander even more so. Both were powerful and KNEW it. Both eventually learned to be unapologetic about it and saw it as their safety net. Both were taught that power would give them safety, survival, fulfillment in some ways, but not love. And yet, as much as they denied it and hid their hearts they DID want to be loved more than anything.

Zoya only rises thereafter. She gets her rank, she is one of the most valued Grisha in the Little Palace, she is admired for her strength and beauty, she armors herself with arrogance, and ruthlessness. But she has not friends. Both her and the Darkling are surrounded by people, they are admired, but they don’t have people close to their heart. The Darkling always cared about Baghra as much as he could still manage and Zoya cared only bout Liliyana and Lada (an orphan girl that her aunt had taken in).

The Darkling SAW her. He saw how she tried like no other, he saw her pain, her anger and he considered these to be things that he could use to control her and to push her towards the direction he desired. And despite not being appreciative of her devotion when he had it, he missed it when it was gone.

When Alina got in the picture everything changed for Zoya. Yes, Zoya had feelings for the Darkling and I DO believe that her feelings and vanity would have been hurt to some extent by the intimacy in the way he approached Alina, but the primary problem was Zoya’s sense of injustice. Zoya had tried for YEARS, had trained hard, had sacrificed to be where she is. Alina never asked for any of it, but from Zoya’s perspective Alina would have been an untrained Grisha who got all the status, power and recognition that SHE had fought for without even trying. Until then, Zoya had been praised for wanting power, but when her anger is not convenient anymore, the Darkling punishes her for it and does not have a second thought about her.

And yet she remained loyal as always.

Even more so than rank, the Darkling and Liliyana were Zoya’s safety-net. And in ONE MOMENT, by genociding Novokribirsk, Zoya’s own mentor, the one who gave her safety and who was meant to create a haven for the Grisha, a person who KNEW her and who KNEW that she had family there, showed that he had no care for her, not care for human life and she wiped out the last people that Zoya loved.

He left her broken inside. In Siege and Storm, Zoya was at her lowest. She has to plead to Alina to have a position in the second army and she has to reveal a part of her heart; not just her loss of Liliyana. Her voice BREAKS when she says that the Darkling could have warned her of his plan; her pain at the idea that he did not give a crap about taking EVERYTHING from her is raw and cutting.

But she is not a quitter. She adjusts, she pulls her pieces together fast, she is a warrior and she stays on the right side without a question.

Then the Darkling attacked the very Grisha he was supposedly fighting for and killed half the people that Zoya had EVER KNOWN. And she still keeps fighting.

 Enter Rule of Wolves. There is SUCH DEEP IRONY in this book and the way Zoya and the Darkling’s arcs interconnect is a prime example of Leigh’s amazing writing.

The Darkling had told Zoya that they would change the world and he completely stopped paying attention to her the moment the potential of Alina’s power blinded him to anything else. And yet, when he returns Zoya has gained the kind of power that could eventually rival his own. But he STILL thinks that he should be the one to rule Ravka. He still thinks that he is the best option for the country. And once more, he criminally underestimates Zoya and overestimates himself.

Who else is vengeful and afraid of his own heart, I wonder…

Aleksander considered Zoya weak for the very same things that were his own fatal flaws.

But unlike him, Zoya SAW her flaws. The Darkling shut himself off more and more in order to save himself from pain. Zoya eventually opened up her heart to grief and pain to become the person her country needed and to embrace her power. She opened the door, when the Darkling did not manage to do so. She showed more courage than he did… and he SAW it.

Aleksander hoped to become the savior during the battle, he wished to demonstrate how only HE could save Ravka. But seeing Nikolai and Zoya defending the country is the first time it registers that there are others who are up to the task and who may be better suited than he is.

And he becomes essential in Zoya being accepted as a saint and in her rise to power partly because he wants to gain her favor but also because he finally sees all her potential, all she can achieve, how a Grisha queen of such power might give the Grisha the haven they need, when he clearly can’t.

And what is left for him to do? What does he want? He wants to serve the country he loves in a way that will affirm his sense of self-importance (he wants to offer something that no one else can) and he wants to be loved. So his new objective is to stop the blight.

The blight was created because of his own power. This man who hunted down and ruined the life of a young girl (Alina) in order to force her to be his balance, so that he could freely use his power in a very imbalanced way, finally realizes that HE is responsible for his power and that HE can be the only one to balance it and himself. So there is a new path he sees ahead of him: he can sacrifice himself to stop the blight and in the process Ravka might finally see that he always wanted to protect the country… and it might love him back. He KNOWS that he has committed crimes, he does not seek redemption, but he desired for all he has done to matter. And it can’t matter if he is not at all responsible for its country’s well-being and if everyone hates him. He has lived so many lifetimes without happiness or fulfillment and they would all have been wasted.

But he can’t achieve this by himself. This man who always thought that he could do things alone, and who took away everything Zoya had fought for, NEEDS her allowance for his centuries-long life to gain a scrap of meaning. He needs her allowance to be appreciated and loved.

I can’t be the only one who sees what a beautiful twist of fate this is.

At the same time Zoya herself understands the Darkling. She understands how anger and using power as a coping mechanism can corrupt. Knowing herself and seeing how he turned out are essential in her becoming a good ruler. He is the cautionary tale of what she could but will never allow herself to become.

When he explains his plan, she KNOWS that he’ll be in eternal pain and she has does not mind that his will be his fate. But when she sees the aftermath of his sacrifice and when she feels the kind of pain he’ll be experiencing for eternity, it leaves her shaken. She feels that pain in her own heart and this is not a fate that she wishes even on him. Genya and Alina are very much willing to let him rot but Zoya, who also believed that she could forgive him, feels that she has to.The Darkling has not redeem himself. He is doing penance. But as Genya mentions, there’s a fine line when one has to do the math of how much a person has to pay and of how much pain they have to feel before their punishment stops being just and they become victims instead. Zoya, being afraid of becoming him, knows that learning to show forgiveness is the only way forward, it’s the way for her to keep her heart open and not become the avalanche.

Zoya Nazyalensky has become everything that Aleksander Morozova, the lost boy, wished to be. Poweful, eternal, with friends, with a true partner, holding the best position a Grisha could imagine without forcing her rule and finally giving their people a true chance without comprominsing them. 

The Darkling was hoping that Alina would have been his balance. We are told how she might make him a better man and she might make him a monster.

But at the end of the day it’s Zoya who allows the Darkling to become the closest thing to decent that he can be at this point.

It’s the Darkling’s life that allows Zoya to see the lines that she will not cross and how to not become a monster.

And it’s Zoya’s ability to forgive him and her willingness to save him that becomes the backbone for the next phase of the Grishaverse, whenever Leigh decides to write it.

The way their paths entangle will always be at the core of the story.

_______________________

@myfriendscallmeraba​ I’m tagging you because you asked for it. It’s very encouraging to have someone interested in my ramblings.

[theonewiththefanfics]

Give You Hell (one-shot)

Synopsis: When you’re in a relationship with someone famous while being famous it can be difficult. But not for the Reader and Harry, yet when her past comes knocking, she’ll make sure to know where she stands.

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, some minor angst, like microscopic 

Warnings: swearing, reference to past abusive relationship, but nothing explicit.

Word count: 3428

100% inspired by ‘All American Rejects’’ ‘Gives You Hell’

Dating someone famous while being famous yourself had pros and cons, much like everything in life. The cons mostly came from the outside, not from the inside. It was the opinions of others, thinking what they said mattered, the scrutiny of the press, hoping one of them would mess up, and they could run some bullshit article just so their numbers could go up, without a second thought of how the people involved felt, and it was some jealous fans who didn’t seem to comprehend the people they admired were actual human beings with feelings and thoughts and emotions and autonomy. But other than that, Y/N’s and Harry’s relationship was just like any other. Save for when their emotions bubbled over, millions of people heard them in songs.        They’d met at the iconic yellow-suit-Harry Brit awards. She’d been right next to Hugh Jackman opening the show, a red glittering bodysuit with a black and gold ring-master jacket, a top hat adorning her head as she dominated the stage. If Harry had been sloshed at that point (much like he was later on, but who was Y/N to say, given how most of the night was a blur for her), he would’ve absolutely started drooling at the sight of her, and he was one of the thousands who stood up, hollering and clapping as she and Hugh ended their performance.

       Much to his dismay though, Y/N wasn’t one of the people assigned to sit by his table, instead, she was a couple of rows behind, whispering something into Billie Eilish’s ear, the two erupting into uncontrollable laughter.        He felt like a creep as he tried to catch every possible glimpse of Y/N, her smile making his heart race. She’d been on his radar for a while, had even thought about asking her to collaborate on a song for ‘Fine Line’, but at the end of the day, it was an album of personal discovery (and when one of his producers told him Y/N was halfway across the world in the middle of Norwegian woods for the next half-year working on her own music, he didn’t want to be a bother). But seeing her then, Harry wondered why he hadn’t reached out on his own, especially after at the after-party Lizzo had dragged Y/N to him and introduced the two.        The following day, pictures of them dancing together, drinks in hands and drunken grins on their faces would sweep the web, sparking millions of rumours, but, at that moment, they didn’t care, nor did they care about what was written because as Harry twirled Y/N under his arm, as much as the connection was there, that night they went their separate ways. Even when they were drunk, they understood that about the other person, and wouldn’t accept anything else, but a sober and coherent ‘yes’.        Sometime midday the next day, Harry reached out to Y/N through a DM on Instagram checking in on how she was doing, which then turned into a six-hour FaceTime call.        “What do you mean you’ve never had a hangover?!”        Y/N laughed at Harry’s almost offended expression. “I mean I’ve never had a hangover. I’ve never thrown up while drunk or after being drunk, my head’s never hurt – nothing. I mean I’m tired, but that’s because I’m still on New York time and got to bed at like five AM.”        “You… are something else.”        She wiggled her eyebrows. “Is that something else something good?”        Y/N didn’t know, but when Harry saw her eyes sparkle, his heart skipped a beat, and he immediately knew – she was it. “The best.”        “Well…” she bit her lip. “If I’m the best, would it be too forward of me to ask you out for a coffee?”        What Harry didn’t know was that when she saw him smile as if those were the best news in the world, her heart skipped as well, and she knew he was the one.        “Only if it’s my treat.”        “But I was the one who asked you out.”        “Yes, but you can pay for the second date.”        Holding in her squeals of joy was tough, but she raised her eyebrow, giving Harry a sly smirk. “Already so confident there’ll be a second date?”        Harry scoffed. “And a wedding!”        Seeing Y/N throw back her head as she laughed, made all sorts of butterflies fly through his stomach.        “Okay, Styles. I’ll take your word for it.”        Three months into the relationship, the two were booked to appear on The Graham Norton show together, which was also the first time they’d appear officially as a couple at a work/outing kind of a setting since the rumours started floating, and a picture of Harry kissing Y/N outside of a hotel room had sort of confirmed that.        “So, you two.” Graham pointed between Y/N and Harry with his cards. “Have started to date? Not to say anything Harry, but Y/N… I didn’t think boy-bands were your type.”        That made her lean over in laughter as Harry gave everyone a shocked face, before slumping back and pouting, nudging Y/N with his knee. “That’s not funny.”        “I mean it kind of is.”        “She was twelve when she swore off boy-bands.” Graham nodded, taking a sip of his wine. “Isn’t that what you said last time you were here?”        “Hey, it’s been ten years since I said that!” Y/N laughed. “Cut me some slack. All the people I was crushing on are married anyway… with kids… and could probably be my dads… I have issues, don’t I?”        Everyone exploded into giggles while Harry shook his head, chuckling.        “Love you with all of your issues.” He nudged her shoulder, and she nudged right back, taking a sip of her drink.        “Yeah, give it a couple of months. You’ll regret your words.”        The thing was Y/N was so wrong, and she’d never been happier to be so wrong. Each morning they were together, Harry woke up to her showering him with kisses or vice versa. As private as Harry was, his Instagram stories were now filled with pictures and small videos of them, of Y/N’s face half-covered by a blanket, glasses crooked as she smushed her cheek to his chest and watched a movie, or her eating breakfast while re-watching old Bones and Castle episodes with captions like ‘dunno how she keeps the food down’ and ‘she swears it’s just for research’, while her feed was full of candid Harry photos or her rummaging through his closet and showing everyone his immaculate style, and giving tips how others can recreate it (also she may or may not just use that as a reason to steal his clothes).        Generally, people loved it, and their love for one another. It was refreshing to see them enjoy each other’s company, and not be afraid to do so, especially now, given how it was a couple of days before Y/N ended her tour in New York in Madison Square Garden, to which Harry had specifically flown out for despite being in the middle of filming for ‘The Little Mermaid’. Three AM blinked on the clock, as the two finally drifted off to sleep after five hours of a passionate reunion when her phone dinged, indicating a message had arrived.        “Turn it off,” Harry grumbled into the skin of Y/N’s back. “’S too early.”        She hummed in agreement, furrowing her brows as her palm blindly searched for the offending device, and she squinted her eyes as the light burned her retinas before widening in shock at the message.        Harry felt her body go rigid, and he pressed a kiss to her neck. “Everythin’ alright, lovie?”        “Uh – “ she stuttered, trying to process the words on the screen. “Uh, yeah. Yes, everything’s fine. Just… some last-minute changes for the show. They want something really big for the ending, and some of the propositions are just…”        She could feel a smile stretch across Harry’s mouth. “Extravagant?”        “You could say that, yeah.”        “Sounds like it’s gonna be one hell of a show. Not that the others weren’t.”        Y/N switched the phone off wiping away the message first and then turned to cuddle into Harry’s chest. “It most certainly will.”        For the next two days, she was an anxious ball of mess, as her crew got everything ready, and her and her band rehearsed relentlessly before she asked all of them to gather at the studio to add a song to the setlist.        “It’s gonna be a couple more hours, Hazza,” Y/N murmured into the phone as Harry had called in to check on her. “ ‘M sorry. You don’t have to wait up for me. I know you’re still adjusting to New York time.”        “ ‘S alright,” he slurred, clearly already falling asleep but determined not to. “Can’t sleep without you anyway.”        At those words, Y/N’s heart did that stupid flipping thing it’d been doing ever since Harry entered her life to stay, and a shy grin blossomed on her lips. “You’re exhausted, sweetheart. But I’ll tell you what - if you do go to bed, I’ll be sure to wake you up with a kiss when I get back.”        “You promise?” She could hear the smile on his face.        “Swear it.”        “Alright, lovie. I’ll be waiting to cash in on that kiss.”        “I’ll run to give it to you as soon as I can. G’night.”        “See ya’ in a bit.”        Y/N let out a shudder as she heard the call disconnect. She entered back inside the studio and clapped her hands, drawing the attention of her producers and band members. “Where were we?”

***

       The hour before a show was always nerve-wracking for Y/N. It’s when the adrenaline truly started to rush, when her feet and palms got all tingly, and her ears and cheeks heated up. It was when their warm-up band exploded on stage, and the crowd got pumped up. But the best moment that night by far was right when she was about to run out, Harry had pulled her back by the wrist and kissed the living daylights out of her.        “You’re gonna kill it tonight,” he muttered against her lips, words skimming her mouth and making her smile as bright as the sun. She seemed to do that a lot around him. It’s why he now dedicated Golden to her every time he sang it.        “Thank you. For being here.”        Harry flicked her nose. “Always. Now go. People are waiting.”        When Y/N finally appeared on stage, pretty much glowing as brightly as the stage lights, her fans went wild, and even more so when she jumped, starting off the show. The whole time, her gaze flitted to backstage just to get a glimpse of Harry, and whenever she did, she saw him dancing, singing along, filming her having fun and some clips of himself as well, going absolutely ham to her songs.        As the night was moving towards the end, usually, she’d feel euphoria from giving a great performance, after hearing thousands of people sing her songs in unison, now Y/N felt closer to throwing up and fainting.        “So uh…” She pushed back strands of sweaty hair, hollers of people echoing in her head. “This is a very special show tonight. Umm… this is the first concert my boyfriend’s come t - .” She didn’t even get to finish the sentence before the cheers of the people interrupted her, deafening the girl even with the earplugs.        “But umm… it’s also a special show because two days ago someone reached out to me, and uh… he… well, he was as important of a person once the same way Harry is right now, and he wrote this.”        Y/N went over to where the piano chair was, lifted it and fished out her phone from it, revealing the message that’d been basically haunting her nights and days since receiving it.        “Breaking up with you was the biggest mistake I ever made.” To her own surprise, her voice was steady and sure, unlike her hands which were trembling like leaves in a storm. “I know you look happy and in love, but I know it’s not true. I’ve known you for five years, I know how to see through the mask you put on every day just to make sure others are happy while you yourself suffer an inauthentic life. But you do deserve to be happy. And I’ll be waiting for you if you decide to give us a chance again. I’ll be at your concert in Madison Square.” She looked out into the crowd. “You wrote a song once for me. If you sing it, that’s how I’ll know you feel the same.”        By the time she got to the end, there were no more shouts or screams, but confused murmurs. Y/N let out a shuddering breath, hoping that she could manage to do what she wanted, and everything didn’t fall apart. “The thing is, I’d like for Harry to come on stage, please.”        She could see the fear in his eyes as he jogged to stand next to her, but he disguised it with an overenthusiastic smile as he waved over towards the raging sea of people. He’d seen the message, had seen her reread it more than fifty times by that point, and as sure as he was in their relationship, when someone who held such importance, no matter if good or not, in someone’s life came knocking again, you could never be too sure what would happen. Harry didn’t want to say anything, believing if it was important enough, she’d tell him. Guess that was it.        “So, uh…” Y/N pulled Harry’s arms over her shoulders and grasped onto them, grounding them both. “This is for you.” Y/N looked over into the crowd before glancing over her shoulder, Y/E/C eyes meeting Harry’s wavering green ones. “And you,” she whispered so that only he could hear. “Hope you know I mean everything.”        As the cords started playing, she felt Harry unwarp his arms from where she’d been holding them over her shoulders and a smile erupted on her face.        “I wake up every evening,” Y/N sang, “with a big smile on my face, and it never feels out of place.”        “And you’re still probably workin’,” Harry’s voice joined in, grin as wide as the Cheshire cat’s, as he now had a microphone in hand, the other placing earplugs in his own ears, “at a nine-to-five pace… I wonder how bad that tastes.”        “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell,” the two harmonized, Y/N’s eyes locked onto the masses, imagining the face of her ex-boyfriend who had the audacity to send that message.        “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell.” Harry was looking at the crowd as well, now fully understanding the message and the person behind it, and although he lived by ‘treat people with kindness’, he couldn’t help but gloat at the fact he got to sing with the love of his life on stage, and basically serenade a break-up song to a person who didn’t know how to appreciate what he’d had.        Y/N cocked her head to the side. “Now, where’s your picket fence, love, and where’s that shiny car? It didn’t ever get you far. You’ve never seemed so tense, love. I’ve never seen you fall so hard. Do you know where you are?” It was hard not to smile, knowing where she was and who she was with. Harry threw an arm over Y/N’s shoulders as she sang, giving a mock sad look, while Harry pouted. “And truth be told, I miss you… And truth be told, I’m lying!”        “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well.” Y/N pointed towards where she imagined her ex was standing. “Then she’s the fool, you’re just as well, hope it gives you hell! Hope it gives you hell!” For a split second, the music slowed down, guitar strumming in the air, as Harry pulled Y/N by the palm and towards his chest.        When the next lyrics came out of his mouth, he knew them to be true as he sang them to the man, he’d heard Y/N talk about, to the man who thought everything he’d done to her, every horrible word and deed was justified, to the man who thought breaking someone else down was the only way to bring themselves up. “Now tomorrow you’ll be thinking to yourself, where did it all go wrong, but the list goes on and on.”        “And truth be told, she misses you,” Harry hummed, Y/N letting out a large laugh, holding onto his bicep, as he slightly changed the lyrics. “And truth be told, she’s lying! When you see her face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you walk her way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!  When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well.” Harry sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “Then she’s the fool you’re just as well hope it gives you hell.”        “Now you’ll never see,” Y/N took over the song. “What you’ve done to me.” She placed a hand over her heart. “You can take back your memories, they’re no good to me. And here’s all your lies, you can look me in the eyes, with that sad, sad look that you wear so well.” She dragged her finger down her cheek, giving a pout while Harry mimicked her stance before turning the mic to the audience.        “When you see my face, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell,” the crowd sang back with such vigour, Y/N was sure the whole ground was shaking just from their voices, and the clapping and stomping to the drum rhythm would bring the whole world down. “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell! When you find a gal that’s worth a damn and treats you well, then she’s the fool you’re just as well, hope it gives you hell!”        The two were jumping around the stage like madmen, adrenaline filling their veins. “When you see my face hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!” “Hope it gives you hell!” Everyone else repeated.        “When you walk my way, hope it gives you hell, hope it gives you hell!” “Hope it gives you hell!”        “When you sing this song and sing along, well you’ll never tell. Then you’re the fool, I’m just as well, hope it gives you hell!” Y/N grinned once more, placing her hand over her heart, meaning every word – she was just as well. She had amazing friends, a career that’d flourished, and a person who loved her more than words could describe.        “When you hear this song, I hope that it will give you hell!” Harry crooned down the mic, knowing their happiness would, Y/N’s happiness would give him hell. And he enjoyed it, knowing how good her life was.        “You can sing along I hope that it puts you through hell!” Her voice became the only sound as the last word echoed around everyone, her chest heaving up and down from the exertion, from all of the emotions running through her body as well as the overwhelming feeling of not only having Harry watch her perform but to end up performing with him.        When his hands wrapped around her body, it startled her out from the daze, and the popping confetti startled her even more, as the rest of her band joined the two to take their bows, grins on all of their faces while they did so.        “Not the song you thought I’d sing, is it?” Y/N laughed into the mic, Harry’s arms tightening around her waist. “There’s a reason I blocked your number, let alone you from my life. Don’t think I won’t do it again.”        “But I would like to say thank you, to the asshole in question,” Harry said, making Y/N’s forehead scrunched up. “You let go of the best person ever; you had the honour of calling yourself her boyfriend, but instead, you chose to walk away. So, thank you for that. Because now I’ll have that honour and pleasure for the rest of our lives.”        Yeah. It was one hell of a show.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​

A/N: I love ‘All American Rejects’ and have been listening to ‘Gives You Hell’ non stop. It’s the best break-up song ever, and you won’t convince me otherwise. 

P.S. my tags are always open :)

P.S.S. please don’t repost my work on other platforms without my explicit written permission. reblogs are fine :)

[sequinsmile-x]

Bait

In which Aaron looks like the victims of the case they are on, and Emily does not like Dave's suggestion that they use her boyfriend as bait.

This was originally meant to be a mini fic for here, but in a way that is very on brand I got carried away and now its a full on one shot.

Words: 4k 

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence 

Read on AO3 via this link, or below the cut

Let me know what you think! 

Emily wakes to the sounds of a phone ringing. She groans when the arm that had been wrapped around her waist moves, leaving the chill from the air to hit her skin.

“Hotchner.” His voice was rough with the early morning, and it was clear he’d had very limited sleep. She settles down further into the bed, trying to claim the last few moments of rest before they have to leave. “Ok thanks, Garcia. Call the others and tell them to go straight to the jet.”

He hangs up and lays back down behind her. He closes the gap between them, pressing his naked chest up against her back. He wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her closer, nudging hair away from her neck with his nose so he can kiss her throat.

“Morning.” He says, nuzzling her neck. “We’ve got a case in Colorado. We’re meeting on the jet and Garcia is going to brief us in full once we’re wheels up.” He kisses the side of her head. “She’ll call you soon.”

“It’s way too early.” She grumbles, opening one eye to see it was only just 4am. She bats at him when he laughs into her neck. He grabs her hand and kisses her knuckles, laughing when she grumbles again, curse words whispered at him under her breath.

The longer they had been together, now 6 months since his fumbled attempt at asking her out on their first date, the more she felt uncomfortable that they were keeping this from the team. It was starting to feel like a dirty secret, when it was anything but. They loved each other, they’d had a serious conversation about their future. Discussions of a house, a wedding and children whilst laying in the dark together. But they still hadn’t taken that step, still hadn’t told the people they considered their family that they were a couple. Emily knows it’s because they were in too deep now, too far into this secret to claw their way out without there being some uncomfortable conversations.

She knew they’d be happy for them, but it would open their relationship that had been almost exclusively just for them up to scrutiny. The others would watch them, try to observe their behaviour around each other. Their relationship meant too much to her for it to be profiled like the criminals they chased.

She was surprised they hadn’t caught it at JJ’s wedding. Her and Aaron had danced together, his hand a little too low on her back for it to be considered friendly. How they had both disappeared into Dave’s house at the same time, gone for 30 minutes with poor excuses for their absence upon their return. She still couldn’t go into Dave’s first floor bathroom without blushing, memories of her pushed up against the door with Aaron’s hand over her mouth. His joy at her decision to stay, to turn down Clyde’s offer of a job across an ocean, was too great for them to wait until they got back to his home or hers.

Her phone rings and she sighs as she extracts herself from his embrace just enough to pick up her cell phone from the nightstand. “Hey, Pen.”

Emily tries to listen to Penelope as she gives her the same basic details she had given Aaron only moments before, but she is distracted by his lips against her neck, his hand drifting down her abdomen. She manages to catch it with her spare hand, gripping a little harder than necessary when she links their fingers, throwing him a look over her shoulder.

She hangs up the phone with a goodbye to Penelope, hoping the other woman hadn’t heard Aaron’s laugh he had attempted to press into her skin. “That was mean.”

“It’s not my fault you’re irresistible.”

Emily turns over and kisses him, anchoring her hand to the back of his head. She pulls back enough to smile at him. “Do you have a suit here?”

Aaron nods, kissing her gently. “Yes. And my go-bag is in my car.”

She smiles. “Perfect.” Another kiss. “That means we have time for a shower before you have to go.” _____________

When she steps onto the jet the only seat left is next to Aaron. He looks at her, an eyebrow raised as she sits next to him.

“You’re late, Prentiss.”

She looks at him pointedly, a subtle narrowing of her eyes that she knows he catches.

“Sorry, sir.” She says, biting back the temptation to say it was his fault she was late in the first place, their joint shower lasting twice as long as it should have done. He’d left her at her place less than half an hour ago, a kiss pressed to her lips as she was drying her hair, a promise that he would see her soon. “It won’t happen again.”

Emily fights a smirk at the brief sparkle in his eye. This had become part of their game, pushing the boundaries a little further each time, wondering when the team would catch on to what was going on between them.

They all make small talk as the jet takes off, pointless conversation over cups of coffee. Once they reach altitude Penelope calls and they start to go over the case. Emily freezes when she looks at the pictures of the victims. They are all male. Handsome. White, tall and broad with dark hair.

They all looked like Aaron.

And these men were being viciously beaten to death. She looked up and everyone was still listening to Penelope as she told them the details. It gave her a second to recover, forcing herself to tune back into the conversation around her. ____________

They were struggling to build a profile. The men who were being killed had little in common apart from how they looked and where they were being killed. The only bar in town, a dingy place that reminded Emily too much of her misspent youth.

On the second day they were in town another man was found dead in the alley behind the bar, his face beaten almost beyond recognition. Emily went and delivered the news to his widow, and desperately tried to ignore how much the man in the pictures displayed on the walls looked like Aaron.

She barely sleeps that night. They were good on cases, rarely sneaking into each other's rooms. She knew he had to have seen it too, that she wasn’t imagining how similar the victims looked to him, so she didn’t want to burden him with it. She didn’t want to make this about how it was making her feel. So she stayed in her room, and eventually drifted off to sleep in a bed she wished he was in too.

Emily wakes up gasping, images of Aaron’s dead body in that alley burned into her eyelids.

She doesn’t sleep again that night, and is grateful when he presses a coffee into her hands in the morning, his thumb discreetly skating over her knuckles. ____________

“What shall we do now?” JJ asks. There were concerns that the unsubs, because they had figured there must be more than one person given the size of the men being killed, would strike again that night. The devolution of their actions indicated that there would be an attack a night until they were caught.

“We just so happen to have someone on the team that matches the victim profile.” Dave says, acknowledging what none of them had said out loud in the three days they had been in Colorado. Everyone looks at Aaron expectantly, and Emily thinks she has never been closer to killing David Rossi. “We could plant you at the bar where the victims have gone missing from, see if we can draw the unsub in.”

“And what?” Emily says, somehow keeping her voice even. “Use Hotch as bait?”

“It’s our only option.” Aaron says, a flash of apology across his face as he briefly looks at her. “I can’t exactly wear this to a club.” He says gesturing to his suit. “I very clearly look like an FBI agent.”

Derek and Dave laugh at his attempt at humour, Emily does not.

“Hotch.” She says evenly, her voice not betraying the emotions that were tumbling around in her chest. He turns to look at her, his face neutral. “Can I have a quick word?” She tilts her head towards an empty office and he nods and follows. If the others think it's odd that she wants to speak to him alone they don’t say anything.

“I don’t like this, Aaron.” She says as soon as the door closes behind them, her voice a rushed whisper, not wanting anyone to potentially overhear if they walked past the tiny office. He opens his mouth to speak, but she talks again, cutting him off before he can even start. “We don’t know enough how the unsubs are doing this. Or why they are doing it. It’s too risky.”

“Emily.” Aaron says, his voice soft in a way he only usually used with her when they were alone, tangled up in his sheets or hers, or snuggled together on one of their couches. It makes her sigh, and she closes her eyes to briefly break eye contact with him, knowing he is about to convince her exactly why he had to do this despite her reservations. “We have no other choice. I fit the victimology and we can’t risk them killing someone else.”

“What if this was the other way around?” She asks, crossing her arms across her chest as she tries to reason with him. “Are you seriously telling me that you’d be fine with me going in there? That you’d be ok with me being used as bait after you’d spent the last few days looking at pictures of bodies of people who looked exactly like me?”

Aaron opens his mouth to disagree with her, but a simple raise of her eyebrows stops him. “No, I wouldn’t be ok. But we have no other choice.”

“I don’t like it.” She repeats, defeat making her voice shake slightly.

Aaron turns to look out of the window of the office they are in, and when the coast is still clear he grabs her hand, running his thumb back and forth over her wrist. “It will be fine, sweetheart.”

Emily nods, the protest that he doesn’t know everything would be fine dying in her throat. All she could do was sit back and watch as he put himself at risk. Her love for him stuffed into a box in her head where no one else could see it, the privilege JJ had of breaking down publicly when Will was in the bank not afforded to her. She squeezes his hand back, and wishes more than anything that she could kiss him.

“If anything happens to you, even just a scratch, I’m teaching Spencer just enough Italian to piss Dave off.”

That makes him laugh, a brief flash of his dimples settling her nerves in her stomach. “I would expect nothing less.”

“We should get back.” Emily says, extracting her hand from his. She grasps the lapels of his jacket. “And you’re right, you need to change. You look like a fed.” ____________

Emily keeps staring at the monitor, the CCTV from the bar displayed for the team to watch in the back room they were in. She keeps her eyes on Aaron, her thumbnail in between her teeth, as they waited for any sign that the unsubs were around. That someone besides them was watching him.

“You ok there, princess?” Derek asks, drawing her attention towards him. He is eyeing her curiously. “Worried about the boss?”

She can feel Dave and JJ’s eyes on her too, she pulls her thumb out of her mouth and clears her throat. “I’m just not comfortable with this idea.”

“And why is that? Hotch can hold his own.” He replies, an edge to his voice she doesn’t like.

“It’s because Emily and Hotch are sleeping together.” Spencer says without looking away from the monitors, his eyes still on Aaron.

“What?” Derek asks, snapping his head in Spencer’s direction.

“How the hell did you know, Reid?” Emily says, turning to Spencer. She always figured that it would be Dave who would have figured it out. His meddling tendencies well known.

Spencer turns to look at her, taking his attention off of the CCTV footage. “You’re both happier but trying to hide it. Jack said your name 9 times the last time we were all together, indicating that he is spending more time with you in a personal capacity, and you and Hotch both came to work this morning smelling of the same soap.” He explains, Emily’s blush deepening as he spoke. “Not to mention I saw you kissing in the parking garage last month.”

“You’ve known for a month?” JJ says, smacking his shoulder lightly. “Why didn’t you say anything?

Spencer shrugs, looking back at Emily. “I figured they weren’t telling us for a reason.”

“You are a terrible gossip.” Dave says before looking back at Emily. “So how long has this been going on?”

Emily sighs and rolls her eyes, wishing that this wasn’t happening now of all times, that she could at least have Aaron with her for back up.

“6 months.”

“6 months.”

She says at the same time as Spencer. She looks at him again, unable to cover her surprise at the fact he had apparently known all along.

“6 months?” Derek exclaims, genuine surprise on his face. “Why did you keep it from us that long?”

“Guys.” Spencer says, trying to interrupt the conversation but failing.

“We just did, ok?” She says, crossing her arms across her chest. “We were going to tell you.”

“Guys.” Spencer says again, firmer this time interrupting whatever Derek was about to say. They all look at him, varying degrees of annoyance on their faces. “Where is Hotch?”

Emily felt like ice water had been poured over her, fear flooding her veins as her head snapped back towards the screens. Her eyes flicked across each image displayed and she couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Derek.” She chokes out, her voice not quite sounding like her own.

“Shit.” Derek exclaimed, already striding out of the room, Emily and the rest of the team on his heels. ____________

They find him in the alley behind the bar, two men holding him down as they punch him, one of them managing to kick his ribs. There’s no time to figure it out, no time to wonder how the hell they got Aaron out of the bar in the two minutes they had been distracted.

“FBI.” Derek yells, his gun drawn and pointing at them, local cops right behind him with their guns raised too. The unsubs try to make a break for it, but don’t manage it. Derek being a little too hard with the takedown of one of them.

Emily doesn’t even think about what she does as soon as they are apprehended. She’s naturally drawn to Aaron’s side, helping him sit up.

“What the hell happened?” She asks, wincing as she takes in the blood on his face. His nose was bleeding, and his left eye was already bruising. She cups his face in her hands, thumbs gently moving over tender flesh.

He tries to shy away from her touch, his eyes on JJ and Spencer standing behind her. She turns to look at them and raises an eyebrow, both of them averting their gazes. She turns back to look at Aaron, a shy smile on her face.

“Everyone knows.”

He furrows his brow at her. “How?”

“That’s not important right now.” She says, cupping his face, wiping some of the blood that had gathered at the bottom of his nose away with her sleeve. “What happened? We had our eyes off of you for two minutes and you were gone.”

“I spotted them, they fit the partial profile we had.” He explains, as if it was obvious. “So I followed them.”

“What were you thinking?” She exclaims, smacking him in the shoulder, hard, before grabbing his face again and kissing him. “That was so stupid, Aaron.” She kisses him again.

Emily wraps her arms around him tightly, pulling him into a hug that makes him wince. She lets go instantly, her hands on his shoulders as she looks him over for any other obvious injuries.

“Shit, sorry. Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m ok.” He gets out, his face screwed up in pain despite his attempt at assuring her. “They just got a few good kicks to my ribs.”

She looks around, sees a paramedic standing back waiting for the scene to be cleared. “We need to get you looked at.”

“Em, I’m fine.” He protests, his breathlessness at the act of standing up giving him away as he pushes himself up off the ground.

She glares at him. “You are not fine, Aaron. You just had the shit kicked out of you by two men who wanted to kill you.” She holds his hand, links her fingers through his and gently tugs him towards where the ambulance is parked. “Let the nice paramedic look at you before I kill you myself.” ____________

He needed to get x-rays done. The paramedic was concerned that his ribs could be broken, and therefore insisted he went to the hospital to get checked out. Aaron tried to talk him out of it. He’d had broken ribs before, and claimed he knew how to handle them, but then he had looked at Emily’s face, how concerned she was, and he stopped resisting.

Emily was sitting nervously next to the gurney he was on whilst they waited for the results of the scans he had on arrival.

“Em.” Aaron says, making her look up at him from the spot she was staring at on the floor. “I’m ok.”

“You’re ok because we found you when we did.” She scoffs, shaking her head. “If we’d been only a couple minutes later…”

“But you weren’t.” He reaches out for her hand and she accepts it, fiercely holding his one hand between both of hers. “I’m ok.” He repeats, pulling their joint hands to his lips so he could kiss her knuckles.

“I love you.” She says, a sad smile on her face as she has to stop herself from looking at the dried blood on his shirt, or at how his eye was now swollen shut. She interrupts him before he can reciprocate, repeat the words back to her that they had only said out loud for the first time a few weeks ago, even though their actions had shown it long before. “You put yourself in unnecessary danger today.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Don’t ‘sweetheart’ me, Aaron.” She says, moving so she was sat on the edge of the gurney. She leans down and presses her forehead to his, not caring how ridiculous she would look to anyone who walked in. Her FBI bullet proof vest is still on over her sweater, her gun on her hip. “You can’t do that.” She pulls back to look at him. “You can’t, ok?”

“Em, our jobs are dangerous.”

“I know that.” She replies through slightly gritted teeth. “We both have scars to prove it. But today didn’t need to happen.”

“It was a measured risk.”

“A measured risk that could have cost me you.” She says, her voice finally wavering. “I can’t lose you.” He opens his mouth to talk but she presses a finger to his lips. “And you can’t say that I won’t, love. We both know you can’t promise that. But you don’t have to offer yourself up to unsubs like a lamb to slaughter, ok?”

He clearly disagrees with her, she can see it written all over his face, and on some level she knows she isn’t being reasonable. That the emotion of the day is clouding her judgement, in a way she usually wouldn’t let it. He nods though, presses a kiss to the finger still against his lips and it makes her laugh.

“Ok.” ____________

He has three fractured ribs and several bruised ones. He initially refuses painkillers but Emily convinces him to take them, memories of how painful take off on the jet had been after her beating at the hands of Cyrus all those years ago.

Aaron falls asleep against her. He is sitting slightly slumped in his seat, his head leaning on her shoulder. His breath makes her hair tickle against her neck and it calms her, reminds her that he was still there, that he was still alive.

Emily looks up from her paperwork to the sound of a throat clearing, and she sees Derek sliding into the chair opposite her, a curious look on his face. The team had met them back at the jet. Dave explained that the unsubs were brothers, finding men who reminded them of their father who had all but drank himself to death in that very bar when they were young. It seemed so banal, so stereotypical to Emily it infuriated her.

The team clearly had questions about what they had discovered about her and Aaron, but they were silent about it. Emily wondered how long that would last, if they would at least wait until Aaron could see out of his left eye again before they started asking about their relationship.

“Can the Spanish inquisition wait at least until tomorrow, Derek? I’m tired.” She asks, a quirk to her smile.

He holds his hands up, mock surrender on his face. “I’ll leave it for now, Princess. But if you think for one second that our beloved technical analyst will do the same, you are kidding yourself.”

Emily laughs at that, before groaning. “She’s going to be delighted.” She says, looking briefly at Aaron before looking back at Derek. “She’s been trying to tell me to give this a chance for years.”

“Really?” Derek asks, his eyebrow raised.

“Oh yeah.” She replies, a smile on her face. “It’s a common topic on ladies night.”

Derek smiles and looks at her curiously. “You love him?”

Emily bites her lip “Yeah.” She nods. “I love him.”

“I’m happy for you, Emily. For both of you.” He stands, heads back to where he had been trying to nap before he had walked over, but he turns back to her. “You owe us all dinner. Somewhere fancy.”

Emily barks out a laugh, briefly disturbing Aaron from his slumber on her shoulder. “Whatever you say, Morgan.” _______________

She takes him back to her place. It was too late to get Jack from Jessica’s, and she figured he’d want some time to prepare his son for his injuries anyway.

He’s pretty out of it from the pain and the medication, but she gets him into her bed, managing to get him down to just his briefs and under her covers. She quickly gets ready for bed herself, forgoing her usual skincare routine with just a swipe of a makeup wipe over her face.

She climbs into bed next to him, careful to put more distance between the two of them than she usually would. She turns the lamp off and settles into her pillows, ready to try and get some sleep.

“What are you doing all the way over there?” He asks, his words thick with sleep.

Emily rolls onto her side and reaches out for him, stroking her fingers over his shoulder. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You never could.”

Emily suppresses a smile in the darkness. His inhibitions were always lowered at night in one of their bedrooms, his affection for her blowing over her like a warm breeze. “Baby, you have broken ribs.”

“Come here.” He reaches out for her and she moves towards him, not wanting him to hurt himself any further by dragging her across the bed. He shifts, grimacing as he does, and rests his head on her shoulder. “That’s better.”

She laughs. “We can’t sleep like this. It won’t do either of our backs any good.”

“Just 5 minutes.”

“Ok, honey.” She says, kissing the top of his head. “5 minutes.”

“Love you, Emily.”

“I love you, too.”

[plus-size-reader]

Engaged

Not Really Goodbye pt.2

Peeta Mellark x Plus size!reader

Word Count:1692 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Peeta having to explain his engagement to you, the woman he loves

Part 1

——————————————————————————————————

Marrying Katniss hadn’t been Peeta’s idea.

Quite frankly, none of this was his idea to start with; not pretending to be together, lying to everyone he cared about, not getting engaged, not going on the tour. It was all stuff he’d been dragged into without even meaning to.

Unfortunately though, that didn’t make it any easier to explain the whole engagement thing to you.

This whole thing was too complicated to just break down, too dangerous to get out of, and even if he wanted to try, Peeta knew the truth. It was too late to get out now, no matter what he did.

Still, it would break your heart, just as it was currently breaking his.

Ever since the two of you were children, you assumed that you would end up being together. You had been inseparable all your lives, never going too far without the other, and your mother often joked that there were no better friends in the world.

That much had always been true.

It wasn’t until you got a bit older that you started really thinking about the possibility that there may never be no two people better suited for one another than you and Peeta were.

He understood you in a way that no one else ever had and being with him was as easy as breathing. By this time in your lives, you were sure that you would end up married, living on a farm somewhere.

Though, clearly, you’d been a fool to believe that.

News of the engagement reached you and the rest of the districts before Peeta and Katniss could even make it back, which meant that he couldn’t explain. All you could do was listen to the broadcasts and try to put the pieces together yourself.

Naturally, it hurt to imagine that everything you’d come to believe was a lie. However, you weren’t shocked that he would rather marry her.

She was incredible.

In all this time since he’d been whisked away to compete in the games, you could see just how much they had bonded. The games were broadcasted all over Panem and you would have had to have been blind to miss it.

Not only was Katniss a fellow victor, and the only other person who had shared experiences with him, but she was also stunningly beautiful and wonderfully strong.

It was something you could have never hoped to compete with.

You only wished, in your wildest dreams, that you could be like her if not for yourself than for his affections.

You wanted nothing more than for Peeta to look at you in the way that he looked at her, like the world started and ended with her, like every action from her could halt his existence entirely.

She had a power of him that you foolishly thought you had, before he went off to the Capital, but that was never going to happen.

You knew Peeta well enough to know that.

That was exactly why, when he did show up at your door trying to explain, you turned him away. If he loved her, and she made him happy, then you wanted him to be with her.

You didn’t want him to feel the need to apologize, which you assumed he was trying to do when he showed up outside your house.

Knowing Peeta, he just didn’t want to hurt you, didn’t want there to be any hard feelings between the two of you. If that was all he needed, there was no need for you to talk it over, you understood exactly what was happening.

You knew a man in love when you saw one, and you didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

For whatever reason though, Peeta was adamant over what he wanted. He wanted to explain himself, and he needed to talk to you. This was all a huge misunderstanding, and he wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if he didn’t tell you the truth.

...And, at a certain point, you knew that you were going to have to hear him out. At the end of the day, you cared about Peeta and whatever it was that was so important, you knew that it wouldn’t hurt to hear what it was he needed.

“Peeta, I already told you, I get it” you huffed, opening your door to find him standing there again, waiting for the off chance that you would come out.

You had no idea what he was thinking, but there was one thing you knew for sure. He was going to freeze to death if he stood out here any longer.

“No, you really don’t. Please just let me explain” he begged, hoping that for the third time, you would hear him out. He just kept coming here, asking to see you, and each time he was met with the same answer.

Either you weren’t home, or you weren’t going to answer.

“Come in” you sighed finally, opening the door wide enough for him to pass through. It was clear that he wasn’t going to let this go anytime soon.

You were doing your best to just save face, to keep him from seeing how much it had upset you, but you had started to accept it. You were coming to terms with what it would mean, with the fact of the matter, Peeta was going to get married.

Peeta was going to get married, and he wasn’t going to get married to you.

That was just what was happening and there was no use fighting it. If you could understand that, you didn’t get why it was so hard for him.

It seemed simple enough.

“Katniss and I are getting married, but it isn’t because I want to” he grumbled, rubbing his hands together lightly as he started to explain, doing his best to gather his thoughts. It wasn’t until he was in the heat of your home that he realized just how cold it had been, the warm air nipping at his skin.

You nodded, having heard this all before. You felt like you knew, felt like you understood what was going on, but Peeta was far from finished.

This wasn’t about him and Katniss, it wasn’t about a wedding, this was about the two of you and nothing more.

“What are you talking about? Why would you be getting married if you don't want to?” you asked, sitting down beside him on the couch, trying your best to wrap your head around what he was saying.

It didn’t make any sense to you.

For what reason, other than the fact that you loved someone, would you get married? Besides, you saw the way he looked at her while they were in that arena, you knew that he must love her.

That was all you needed to be married.

That was more than most of the people of twelve had and they made it work. Your relationships were formed mostly for survival, and in a desperate attempt to form some kind of life with what you’d been given.

“This is bigger than it seems, but I promise I can explain” he tried, gingerly resting his hand on your knee as he tried to make this work. You weren’t sure that you believed it, but it wouldn’t kill you to give him a chance to make you believe.

So, you settled in for one of the most complicated stories of all your life. Evidently, the events of the games, and what had happened in the capital, was bigger than you could have ever assumed.

It was bigger than both of you.

The more Peeta explained, the more you put together in your head, the more you understood. Of course he had to marry her, if he didn’t, there was no telling what Snow would do.

He had already threatened all of Katniss’ family and you were sure that he’d done the same to Peeta.

There was a chance they would kill you, if this didn’t go the way they wanted, and for Peeta, that was the worst thing that could happen. In all your lives, he’d only ever really had you and if something happened to you, he’d have nothing left.

You were the one. You were the one who came to check on him the night before the reaping, who combed his hair on the day of so he would look nice. You were the only one to come see him before he left for the games.

Every time he needed someone, it was always you there, waiting for him.

If he didn’t have you, Peeta didn’t have anything.

He hated the idea of doing this, of getting married to a woman who wasn’t you, of putting you through this but in the big picture, it was better than losing you. It was better than having to go through life knowing that you died because of a choice he made.

Having to do that would kill him.

It was difficult enough that the two of them had to lie to the world, that he and Katniss didn’t really care for one another in that way. Adding another element, or another person, in your case, would be far too much.

He hated this, but if it was what he had to do to keep you safe, Peeta wasn’t going to apologize for that. You were too important to risk, for any reason.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I really am. I just don’t have a choice” he huffed, using up all his breath in a hurried attempt to get everything he needed to get out before you started drawing your own conclusions.

...But you didn’t need him to say sorry.

You understood why he was going to do it.

Backing out of the wedding could end all of your lives and as much as you loved him, nothing was worth that. Similarly to Peeta, you figured that a life without him, knowing that he was alive, would be better than one where he died trying to be with you.

It was hardly a fairy tale, but real life rarely was.

[punkpresentmic]

Traitor Aizawa AU Pt. 3 — 1, 2:

Shouta ran away in the middle of the night. When Hizashi woke up, it was to an empty bed, to fists pounding at their shared suite, to UA in lockdown. Hizashi was immediately forced outside & taken in for questioning.

Shouta had left Nezu a resignation letter, in his own unmistakable handwriting. It's blunt, concise, & it contains detailed descriptions & evidence of his betrayal. It makes no excuses for his actions & it does not discuss his motivations.

When Shouta visits that night weeks upon weeks later, he says nothing of the letter & nothing of his motivations. Shouta is silent as Hizashi sobs, dutifully keeping his Quirk erased as asked. It's been a pressure building on Hizashi for far too long, so when the dam breaks, there's no stopping it. It's an unwelcome but necessary catharsis—one he needs because of Shouta, one he can have because of him. Hizashi cries himself to sleep in his husband's arms.

& in the morning, again, he wakes up alone. It could have been a dream, but this time there's a note on his nightstand. It's painfully simple, the script rushed: I'm sorry I couldn't be here when you wake up. I'm sorry it has to be like this. I want to talk with you soon. I love you, Hizashi.

He should report this. Shouta betrayed UA, he's a wanted villain, & he expressed interest in taking Eri. Hizashi should turn in the letter.

Hizashi makes himself a coffee, & he sets the letter in front of him, & he stares at it blankly while the Sun rises slowly outside. The moment the light hits it, it's like the decision has made itself. Hizashi puts the letter through their paper shredder, tucks the pieces into his pocket, buys a muffin at a coffee shop, & throws half of them away in his napkin in one trash can, half of them in another down the road. He doesn’t tell a soul. Not Nemuri. Not Eri. Not Nezu.

He has to see Shouta again.

It’s two weeks before there’s another Shouta sighting. One day Hizashi comes home & senses the difference immediately. &, oddly, it's not a bad different. He knows exactly what it means. So, he takes off his gear in the entryway. Locks the door. Takes a few calming breaths before he calls into the apartment: “Honey, I’m home.”

He steps into the bedroom. Sure enough, Shouta is sitting on the bed.

Hizashi stops. He looks like shit. Exhausted, face sallow like he hasn’t been eating, eyes red & irritated like he hasn’t been using his eye drops. It occurs to Hizashi that his prescription probably ran out. He can remember the last time he picked up a bottle from the pharmacy; he’d teased Shouta about his 'special eyes' that regular eye drops don’t work on. “How did you know I was here.” His voice is rough too. Hizashi wants to offer him water, a meal, something. He hovers in the doorway.

“I’ve felt your absence since you left. Of course I know when it’s changed.”

Shouta says nothing. Hizashi relents slightly, asks him if he’s eaten. As expected, he gets a shake of the head. Hizashi turns on a heel, brings the both of them tea & leftover takeout. Shouta scrunches his eyebrows in confusion when Hizashi hands him what’s always Shouta’s order. Hizashi shrugs, nonchalant as if he didn’t take up ordering it after Shouta left. Shouta opens his mouth to speak, but Hizashi holds up a hand. “Eat.”

& they do, in silence. Shouta is positively ravenous. Hizashi has so many questions. So many questions. But he shares this strange meal with his husband, wordlessly offering Shouta what he doesn’t finish as well. Finally, Shouta clears his throat. “You didn’t tell anybody about me.”

Hizashi doesn’t have it in him to glare—to make any expression, really. It’s all very… heavy. Fragile. Ephemeral. Breakable. Dangerous. Wrong. Hizashi purses his lips. “You’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do.”

He winces. "Hizashi, I wish I could tell you everything, but I can't."

Hizashi swallows the emotions that rise like bile in his throat, a potent mixture of fury & nausea. He has little control of what falls from his mouth. “You know, somebody referred to you as my ex the other day.”

Shouta’s expression is pained. He shakes his head & pulls his wedding ring out from its necklace tucked away as always in his ratty costume. Hizashi almost laughs. When Shouta commits to something, he commits fully, with his whole chest. It’s why so much of this doesn’t make any goddamn sense. It all threatens to choke him, but he laughs around the lump in his throat & shakes his head too, taking Shouta’s hand & squeezing hard to imprint the indent of the ring he put there into his palm. “It’s just not right, man.”

This time, Hizashi takes a page from Shouta’s book & bumps their foreheads together like a cat. Hizashi offers a watery smile. Shouta lets his eyes fall closed, inhales deeply. “I know it was too much to ask in my letter for you to believe that I'm still the person you believe me to be, but…” Hizashi freezes and pulls back, causing him to trail off.

“Shouta… what are you talking about?”

A flash of confusion, then fear crosses Shouta’s face. “The first letter I wrote to you. When I… When I left.” Shouta’s eyes search his for any sign of recognition, clearly troubled when he finds none. “I wrote everyone in my class letters. & Nezu. & Kayama. Hell, even Yagi—do you really think I wouldn’t face you of all—”

“—Shouta. None of those people received letters. Besides Nezu. I read your… resignation letter. Saw the evidence you laid out so logically for him. But I…” Hizashi’s blood suddenly grows cold. “Shou, the police took me down to the station that morning & searched the apartment. I didn’t think they took anything.” His breathing picks up. “They never told me anything about a letter—”

Shouta is barely breathing. Finally, after a long pause he swallows. “Nezu. Nezu must have found his first & arranged for a search & seizure. He would have extrapolated there were more.” He wipes a weary hand down his face, shaking his head. “You never… None of the students…” He covers his eyes, which must be aching. Hizashi has never been hesitant to offer physical reassurance to Shouta Aizawa, but he hesitates here & hates that he does. He pulls Shouta close with an arm over the shoulders.

“It’s alright,” he lies. Shouta knows. “We can talk now.”

So Shouta reiterates what was in the letter: what he’s done, how he loves him, how he wouldn't leave or do this without him if he had a choice, how he intends to return when this is settled, how in the meantime he would trust nobody else to watch over his students & Eri, how he needs Hizashi to trust that he is who Hizashi knows him to be.

“How am I supposed to be certain of that?” Hizashi whispers when he’s done.

It hurts him, Hizashi can see that. But all of this hurts. “I don’t know how to answer that.” They’re still holding hands. “But I want to,” he adds. “I want to prove it to you.”

“I want that too.”

There’s a tension in the air as they hover, faces close, uncertain if it would be okay to kiss each other. They think better of it, pull back with small sighs.

Instead, they discuss Eri. Shouta has been watching from afar when he can safely. He knew how she was struggling with her Quirk. He saw the doctor visits that hadn’t improved anything. He wanted to help. He also knew that he couldn’t sneak into UA forever, that the instant UA caught wind of it security would render it impossible & arrange for his capture. But if she’s with him, he can still help.

Hizashi shakes his head. “Shou, wherever you’ve been, it’s nowhere fit for a child. Your Quirk helps her, but her support network is here at UA. You were part of that network. & now you’re not. She is not leaving UA.”

Shouta shrinks, & after a moment he nods. He was always one to listen to reason. Hizashi, again, has to relent. As far as he can tell, Shouta only wants what’s best for her & it’s killing him not to be able to participate in that. So Hizashi elbows him lightly & pulls up pictures on his phone of all Eri has been up to lately, some of the students also making appearances. He leans Shouta onto his shoulder. It’s a tender moment. Almost normal. But all too soon it has to end. It’s not safe for Shouta to stay the night & there’s a certain window of time he has to catch to slip past security.

Shouta says he’ll return. He squeezes Hizashi’s hand as he goes to the window—the hand with his ring on it. Promises.

(pt. 4)

[apixrl]

SINCERELY, YOURS.

hanta sero x fem!reader

WARNING(S): none

word count: 3.0k

song: sincerely, yours // nohidea

note(s): i just think that he'd be the perfect hubby tbh (EDIT: I'M SO DUMB I POSTED W/O TAGS PFAHAHHA)

Hanta finally managed to force open the door to the log cabin that had long been awaiting your arrival, the wooden structure welcoming the approaching warmth and laughter of the newly wedded couple. The ravenette smirked joyously and let out a triumphant 'hoorah', your laughter only adding to the display of ego on his face.

"And you said I'd drop you," Hanta mocked your earlier words, looking down at you with that very same smirk. If not for your arms wrapped around his neck and entire weight held in his arms, you most likely would have pushed his face away by the cheek. To avoid that shit-eating, joking smirk that rarely left his dumb and lovable face. The face you fell for so undoubtedly swift and heavy.

"I didn't say you would I said you may drop me," Was your response. "It's not every day we walk through so much snow!"

"Hush now, that was nothing to me," Hanta lifted the arm that supported your back, planting his lips on your forehead in a sweet welcoming kiss. Your lips curled in approval, accepting the gesture as Hanta used his foot to close the door behind you both, driving away the cold breeze from outside as warmth replaced it. "Now would you look at this place!"

Heeding Hanta's words, your eyes averted from his addicting gaze to the bonnie log cabin interior set out before you two. From left to right the cabin maintained an earthy theme, consistent in wooden textures excluding that of the supple beige sofas in the centre of the room. They were accompanied with ripening red cushions, as well as a few other pieces of furniture containing the same colour to maintain an advertising aesthetic no doubt. Lengthy beams stretched from one end of the walls to the other, set out in rows. The deepest wall (opposite to the entrance) was made mostly out of glass and onlooking a gorgeous snowy forest scene, small golden lights lit up outside to only add to the aura already presented. Built-up by red bricks and extending up toward the ceiling was a great open fireplace, already sparked alight and sensing a contrasting warmth to the bitter cold outdoors. In the corner of the room were a set of stairs most likely directing themselves off to the bedroom, though you and Hanta were so taken by the bottom floor's interior neither of you even processed there were more rooms to see.

"Wow... this place is gorgeous!" You said through a whisper, face lighting up at the sight. Never had you thought a place could be so beautifully arranged and so beautiful in general, and the two of you had this place to yourselves for an entire two weeks... it made you feel like the luckiest person alive! That you were really, as you'd just tied the knot the love of your life and were starting an entirely new journey with him. From the very moment you'd both uttered 'I do' in front of all your friends and family - the paths you lead became one that you would waltz down together.

"So you like it then?" Hanta asked, ebony eyes trailing away from the open fire and down to your own E/C irises. His smirk slowly transitioned to an endearing grin upon seeing your face of wonder, heart skipping a beat as your gaze met his and your expression mirrored.

"Of course! It's just how I imagined it - even more stunning than the pictures online," Your hand grazed Hanta's gloved one, though the barricade of wool and cotton did nothing to prevent the love and desire sent through the tips of your fingers. The ravenette admired your beauty in that lingering stare shared between you, exhaling a content sigh. You never failed to astound him with your beauty, the way your eyes glowed whenever you looked at him. How your hair fell perfectly into place no matter the circumstance (even on your worst of hair days you somehow managed to make it work). Not to mention your smile and laugh - those specific factors alone making Hanta fall for you over and over and exceeding limits of love and admiration he didn't even think he possessed.

Just before Hanta was to fall into daydream you shook him out his thoughts, the shifting of weight in his arms struck him to shake out of it, realising that you were attempting to shuffle out his arms in order to stand. So he let you down, grip loosening and reluctantly allowing you to step away.

"I'm glad," He quickly uttered, his hand lifting to his head to remove the woolly hat resting there. Then he proceeded to unbutton his winter coat as did you, the pair of you making light work of it due to the excitement of exploring your temporary home.

"So our suitcases are already here?" You asked Hanta, straightening out your knitted turtleneck jumper which was a soft pink shade. Usually something you wouldn't wear, but it was well-suited for the weather and didn't irritate your skin. So you took advantage of the purchase. From your left Hanta hummed softly, turning towards you once he was done hanging his coat on the rack. He too had a turtleneck on, but his donned a collect of abstract patterns and stuck to more neutral colours than yours.

"Yep, they should be upstairs," Hanta replied, running a hand through his hair as he looked over at you. He shifted over to your side, hugging you from behind with a mischievous chuckle. "But we can unpack tomorrow,"

"I like the idea of that, I just wanna snuggle," You responded with a giggle, leaning back into your husband's hold. After a few seconds Hanta stepped forwards, forcing your feet to follow suit. The ravenette guided you both to the nearest sofa, where he messily fell back against the ruby red cushions and you alongside him.

"That's because you procrastinate more than you've ever been willing to admit," Hanta turned you over so you sat atop his middle, hands settled on your hips like they were structured to hold them. There was a smirk on his face as you rolled your eyes at his last comment.

"I procrastinate because you distract me," You corrected, poking his chest with a prominent finger.

"Ah well, what can I say? I'm just that pretty aren't I?" He replied, laughing joyously. You couldn't help but echo with your own form of a chuckle, shaking your head as the smile on your face sent Hanta all kinds of elated emotions through his veins.

"You're not wrong there, Tiger," You grinned ear to ear, staring lovingly in his direction. Words weren't enough to express how much you loved him, your mind struggling to form sentences most of the time with just how much he took your breath away. In truth, you would have allowed yourself to remain gazing into Hanta's eyes the entire night. But you were due to catch sight of an envelope on the coffee table next to you both, drawing your attention away from him as fast as it came. The item too out of the ordinary to ignore. Peculiarly you leaned over to grab it, tilting your head at the item.

"What's that?"

"I don't know," Was your answer. Your fingers proceeded to slit open the top, discovering a smaller, folded piece of paper inside. Curiously you opened it up, voice filling the room as you discovered golden ink was printed on one side and intended to read it out.

" Dear Mr and Mrs Sero,

We are beyond pleased that you chose to stay with us for your honeymoon. Have a wonderful and splendid time at the start of your journey together and we wish you nothing but happiness and joy during your stay.

Kindest regards,

[resort/name] "

"Mr and Mrs Sero," Hanta repeated with a thoughtful stare to the wooden beams above. "I'm still not used to hearing that and we've already been married a week," A smile formed on his lips, releasing a chuckle from the depths of his chest. Almost like he couldn't believe the words he had just uttered. Tilting your head, you pondered on what he meant.

"How do you mean?" You didn't receive an answer straight away, the man you called your husband gently sighed, almost with the case of the lovesick. Somewhere during the exhale Hanta's eyes fell from the beamed ceiling and onto you, gratitude threaded in his expression as he stared at you.

"I just don't know how I got so lucky to marry someone like you," His hand extended to cup your cheek, cradling the slightly chilled part of your face (thanks to the cold air and wind from outside) as his thumb stroked the surface of your skin. Your eyes widened, all too used to the gesture but rarely ever prepared for it whenever Hanta committed to it. You smiled, nuzzling into his warm hold as your eyes closed.

"Me too," You hummed, sighing out yourself as your heart fluttered higher and higher with each passing second. A short silence ensued, ending as you abruptly let out a little laugh. It caught Hanta's attention, his head cosying into the cushion behind him as his brows raised.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about the night you proposed. That's all," Another laugh escaped, humour striking you as you recalled how it had played out. From the manner your lover rolled his eyes, he clearly still hadn't emotionally recovered from it.

"That stupid fire pit," He groaned, eyes closing in annoyance. "I can't believe I let it ruin the moment,"

"I don't think that was the fire's intention, Hants,"

Despite being blatantly confident and bold, when it came to more... intimacy-related things, Hanta Sero's expertise dwindled dangerously. It had taken him months of knowing you to actually ask you out on a date, and when you finally got together? Well, it took him four years before he began to think about popping the question - three months more to actually pop it. Whilst you did say yes once he got down on one knee on the balcony of your holiday home for your fourth anniversary together, the events that proceeded after were what truly traumatised the poor ravenette.

Your holiday was spent somewhere in the Caribbean at a beachside residence that locals rented out for tourists. You and Hanta had always been big on travelling, hence your honeymoon location being such an unconventional place. Or as far as you knew, you didn't have an exact number on how many honeymoons were spent in remote mountain ranges surrounded by blustering winds and snow. It was a nice change of pace to the intense heats nearer the Equator.

During that vacation in particular though, that was the year Hanta finally decided to propose. After a long day on the beach, swimming in the ocean and feeling the sand between your toes as evening approached, you watched the sunset on the balcony of the second floor, neighbouring your bedroom. To set the mood the firepit in the centre had been lit, creating a stunning orange glow in Hanta's eyes as he held you close to his chest.

You noticed he was quite fidgety in his seat, wondering what was wrong with your lover as he gripped his knee tight. Like he was uncomfortable or nervous. Like he needed to get something off of his chest. It was only when you pointed out your concern and his odd behaviour that Hanta managed to shift his stance. Moving from his stiff position to wobbling on one knee, then came the heartfelt speech that gave you a sense of where he was going. A subtle reach into his pocket and before you knew it, you were shouting yes into the night sky and your eyes foggy with tears of complete and utter joy.

Hanta placed the ring on your finger, the realisation hitting him at that moment that you and he were engaged. His excitement got the better of him, the male sweeping you in his arms and swinging you around as he babbled sweet nothings into your ear. The speed wavered his balance, his leg knocking into the table holding a bottle of wine he had ordered specifically for the occasion. Much to both of your bad luck, it all collapsed against the firepit and tipped it over - and one can only imagine what happened next. A rather chaotic ruckus erupted between you as Hanta grabbed you by the waist and flung you both out of the building via the balcony to ensure your safety. Then he 'thwipped' straight back up to the fire and frantically searched for the fire extinguisher to put it out, all whilst you sat on the sandy ground outside, frozen to how drastically the mood had changed.

Luckily the fire didn't spread too far. If not for Hanta's efficiency in dealing with it upfront, it could have spread to the bedroom and the rest of the house. It did not, however, the most damage being the balcony sofas that were scorched no thanks to their wooden frame and white cushioning.

Despite having just been engaged, there wasn't much you and Hanta could do to celebrate. So the night ended with you and he falling to slumber in the early hours of the morning, too exhausted after dealing with the owners' wrath after the slight mishap of nearly setting their building ablaze.

"At least you didn't burn the entire house down," You tried after a few seconds of quiet, earning a scoff on Hanta's part as he ran a hand through his hair.

"It felt like it when I called the owner's to tell them what happened," Hanta answered, softly frowning at the shrieking yells he heard during that call ringing their way through his mind again. Long after he'd shut them out based on the humiliation of being on the receiving end. You giggled, recalling how you were able to hear them despite the phone not being on speaker.

"I'm surprised they let us stay for the rest of the week,"

"That's because I paid the money for the damage caused within six hours of them demanding it," Hanta reminded you, dragging his hands down his face as he groaned out. Probably expelling his inner cringe at his foolishness that night. "Times like that make me relieved I'm a top ten pro, helps out with emergencies a great fucking deal,"

"Are you sure that didn't play any part in their generosity? That you're a top ten pro?"

"No way," He said and sat up to meet your height, hands looping to cradle the small of your back. He held back continuing to briefly peck you on the lips. "The bill they gave me was the complete opposite of generous,"

"How much was it again?" You asked, memory not serving you the answer. The ebony-haired male leaned forwards to kiss you again before he moved his lips up to your ear. His voice became a whisper, telling the sum in Yen which made your eyes widen in astonishment.

"Wow," Was your instinctive reply, Hanta scoffing a laugh in agreement based on your tone of surprise. It was there he nuzzled into your neck, inhaling through his nose to catch a whiff of your scent. The aroma acting as a sedative to wipe the memory from his mind permanently. All he wished to remember of that night was the way your face lit up as he asked you to take his hand in marriage. How your tears formed and how your lips uttered the words he had oh, so desperately wanted to hear after months and months of worry of being rejected.

And look at you both now; husband and wife and on your honeymoon. Holding each other as close as close can be with no doubt or hesitancy in your minds at all. Why he had worried so much was something he would never be able to figure out. As looking back, all of it felt like the easiest thing he had ever had to do.

Due to that, Hanta smiled into your neck. The change could have been missed, but you were far too attentive to not notice. The feeling of his cheeks shaping his smile made you smile as well, your arms wrapping around Hanta's neck in a desperate need to pull him closer. Your fingers ghosted the back of his neck, tickling the hairs that attached with care like no other. You rested your chin on his head, eyes closed gently in comfort. In response, Hanta hummed lowly, hands starting to rub up and down your back like he was giving you a massage.

Silence passed, the two of you simply enjoying the other's company and the intimate moment you had welded together. The proximity created a warmth that could fight any cold, the fireplace behind you both unneeded to fight the swirling snow outside. Your eyes peaked open as the faint crackle of the fire nearby caught your attention. You watched the flames dance for a second or so before you plucked up the confidence to speak.

"Just... let's not set fire to this place. Alright?" You mused, holding your breath as you waited for Hanta's response. Luckily he didn't dismiss it, actually finding the comment quite funny. He voiced a blurt of a laugh, head shaking as much as he could make it whilst it buried into the depths of your neck. Hanta's mouth opened to make his reply, quickly hushing up again to return to the peaceful silence of before, not at all ready to let it go just yet.

"Agreed,"

[thomotomo]

You get married to Tom Hiddleston - Headcanon (Male Reader)

A/N: Just a random idea I got I hope you will enjoy it! (Small reminder of the era when I was obsessed with Tom lol)

Also can be read as gender neutral but was intended to be Male Reader

Support Me!

You had been dating each other for 7 years, being engaged for 2 (ofc with Tom’s job it wasn’t easy to organise your wedding)

You two wanted something private, so no journalists

You invited both of your families and your closest friends

Both of you agreed to marry in UK, per Tom’s requests and forest themed as both of you agreed (tho it was mainly your request, bot of you had made compromises)

Fast forward to the wedding day and you had missed Tom a lot, you knew it was the tradition not to see each other before the wedding but you couldn’t help but feel sad not being able to see him in the morning.

Your best man was your best friends, Atsushi with whom you had opened your coffee shop and worked with him

Tom’s best man was Benedict (of course it would be him).

Atsushi was helping you, checking you out to see if nothing was wrong.

You were hella nervous and he was doing his best trying reassure you and calm you down. He calmed you down and smiled proudly at you.

“My baby is growing” joke. You chuckled, he clearly knew how to ease your mind.

Your parents came in, smiling proudly at you and marvelling at how handsome you were in your suit.

They hugged you and kissed you before leaving. Atsushi gave you a gentle tap on the shoulder, smiling and you could swore his eyes were shining.

You followed him, not forgetting to take the single white rose you had bought instead of the traditional bouquet.

Your dog had been waiting for youn in front of the room, not being allowed inside as there was your clothes inside.

You have her a pat on the head, crouching to kiss her and walked towards where you would find the aisle.

You watched as Atsushi took place, facing Benedict.

You heard the music and you walked first Laki (your dog) next to you and you took place in front of your best friend, smiling at Benedict. Laki sitting next to you.

Tom walked in and you lost all ability of breathing. He was just… well breathtaking. He was not in full blue but his vest was a dark blue, same goes for his pants as you could see the shirt he had choosen.

Honestly in that moment you felt as if you were falling in love with him for the first time

Of course Bobby was trotting next to him and you laughed, he was very cute too, in a small tux.

You grinned at Tom when he faced ypu and you gave him the rose, making him blush as he took it.

The officiant started his talking, as you listened to him, a lovesick smile on your lips.

Then came the vows part. You started talking first, proclaiming your love for him.

He did the same and in the end both of your were teary-eyed.

Your best man brought you the rings and you put them on each other

You couldn’t resist and you kissed his now ringed hand.

The officiant finally allowed you to kiss each other.

You kissed him, finally you were married to each other, and more in love than ever.

You walked down the aisle, his hand in yours and both your dogs following you.

At the reception you looked at your friends and family and you thought you could not be happier than now.

Atsushi took the mic, recounting to everyone the time Tom walked in your coffee for the first time and how you blushed and stuttered when you saw him.

Benedict then talked and explained how Tom had been obsessed to come everyday to see you.

Everyone had a good laugh and the night was spend in happiness and laugh.

Tom had ended up with cake all over his face because he tripped face first inside it. (Ofc there was a lot of pictures taken of that event)

You enjoyed the slow dance with him, your head on his shoulder, murmuring sweet words to each other, lovesick smiles on both your faces.

A lot of pictures were taken by the family and the photographer you had specially hired for the job (with ofc a non disclosure agreement, which he mean he wouldn’t be able to publish pictures until both of you agreed)

In your opinion this day was the best day of your life.

After that wonderful but exhausting day, you went to your room and made love, slowly, taking even more time than usually to appreciate each other’s body.

The following day you left for your honeymoon to Sweden

___________

A/N: Dont forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed the story! (Also reminder that you can support me on Kofi if you like my writing :) )

[freddie-weaselbee]

E3: The One with the Wedding//F.W.

Series Summary: FRIENDS but with Harry Potter characters after Hogwarts graduation, trying to figure out their lives and relationships. Non Voldy AU. 

Pairing(s): Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader, Ron x Lavender, Romione

Warnings: Language, mentions of food, drinking (legal), mentions of sex, nudity

Summary: As Hermione hustles to interrupt Ron and Lavender’s wedding in New York City, Fred and Y/N have a heart to heart which quickly turns into something much more. 

Word Count: 4.8k

A/N: This may or may not be 9 days late (my b) but it’s the 5th and final fic in Abby’s Week of Weasley !! The FRIENDS series will continue!

Message me to join the FRIENDS taglist or my general taglist

-Episode 1-  -Episode 2-

~Abby’s Week of Weasley Masterlist~  ~Masterlist~

May 2004

Previously on FRIENDS

“Hey Luna?” Hermione called from her bedroom. She and her friend had spent the day discussing her feelings for Ron and trying their best to help her get over him. Apparently recounting the horrors of their relationship was not helping in the slightest. 

“Yeah,” Luna called back from the kitchen. 

“Do you remember where the pygmy puff food is?” Her muffled voice sounded rushed and anxious, even more so than Hermione usually was. 

“Yeah, it’s under the front counter of Fred and George’s shop. Why?”

Luna turned her head to see Hermione come flying into the room dragging a packed suitcase behind her. “Because I’m going to New York.”

The pregnant girl nearly had a heart attack at Hermione’s declaration. “What? What do you mean you’re going to New York?”

Hermione grabbed a few more essentials from around the apartment, rushing in order to catch the next flight. “Yeah, I have to tell Ronald that I love him. Now Luna, you take care, you don’t have those babies until I get back.”

“I--but what about all of the finding his flaws and burning his picture rituals we’ve been doing?” Luna asked, straining to stand up and chase after her friend. 

Hermione easily moved past the slow-moving girl, zipping up her bag and heading to the door. “Yeah, that didn’t work. I know he loves Lavender but I have to tell him how I feel! He deserves to have all of the information and then he can make an informed decision.”

Phoebe shook her head and continued to hobble around the room. “No, Hermione, it’s too late, you missed your chance! I’m sorry, I know this must be really hard, it’s over.”

The other girl paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “Y’know what? No. It’s not over until someone says ‘I do.’” And with that she took off out of the apartment and to the streets of Diagon Alley, on her way to another country to declare her love for Ron Weasley. 

------------------------------

“Would you look at this place,” George sighed in awe, staring around at the beautifully decorated dinner hall. There were chandeliers hanging everywhere and everyone was dressed in clothes that looked like they cost more than everything the Weasleys owned combined. Fred and George twisted uncomfortably in their mediocre suits. Sure, they were successful businessmen with some money to spare, but they could never compete with this. 

“Holy shit,” you said, coming up behind the twins. They turned around, startled to see you suddenly appear. Fred took a second to look you up and down, mouth hanging slightly open in surprise. 

“Holy shit is right, Y/N,” he said. “You look bloody amazing!” You glanced down at your outfit, a slim fitting long dress that hugged your form perfectly. You smiled and did a little twirl for the boys who whooped and whistled at you. 

“While I appreciate the compliment,” you said, “I was talking about the hall. How rich is Lavender’s family anyway?”

Fred shrugged. “Apparently loaded. I mean, it’s not like our family could ever compete with this. How Ron was able to pull someone this high up is a mystery to me.”

He and George picked at their clothes self consciously, trying to straighten their ties and smooth out their suits. 

“Oh come now,” you said, “you two are perfectly successful. Who cares if the Browns could afford to buy all of London if they wanted to? Let’s just enjoy the night and eat all of the expensive food they bought!”

“Y/N, you’re my dream girl,” Fred said, putting his arm around your waist. “If you ever want to marry a Weasley, I’d be happy to oblige.”

“I appreciate the offer, Weasley, but I do think George and I would be a couple to be reckoned with.”

“Ha! Suck it Fred, I get Y/N and you’re stuck alone,” George said, kissing your cheek and stealing you away from his brother. 

Fred was about to reply when a loud voice echoed through the room and everyone turned to see a short red haired woman come hurtling through the door. 

“Mum!” cried Ron from across the room. He grabbed Lavender’s hand and they made their way over where you and the twins were standing, now accompanied by the latest arrivals, Molly and Arthur Weasley. 

“Sweetheart!” Molly squealed, pulling him into a tight hug. “Oh sorry we’re late, Muggle transportation is such a hassle, especially in this country. Your father spent 20 minutes trying to figure out how to call a taxi and he wouldn’t stop asking the driver everything you could ask!”

“I still never got an answer to my rubber duck question,” Arthur grumbled before a warm smile appeared on his face. “Hello, Lavender, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“You as well!” she said before hugging Arthur and then Molly. “Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, here come my parents.”

Sure enough, two very wealthy looking people were walking over to join their daughter and future son in law. 

“Hello, hello,” said Lavender’s father, shaking the hands of the Weasleys. “How do you do? Very nice to meet all of you.” He glanced over at his wife. “Darling, it’s the Weasleys.”

“Sorry, what?,” she said, finally looking up at the family, a hint of distaste in her gaze. “Oh, lovely to meet you.” Her snobby look never faltered, making the rest of the Weasley clan even more uncomfortable. 

Arthur cleared his throat. “It’s great to meet you both. I’m sorry we couldn’t help pay for much of the wedding, but we hope that we can at least cover the cost of dinner tonight.”

“Yes of course,” said Molly. “We know how expensive weddings can be, besides this may be the last time I watch one of my sons get married.” 

Fred and George rolled their eyes at their mother, who wouldn’t stop pestering them to settle down since Bill, Percy, and now Ron were all either married or close to it. 

“We’ve heard the complaints, mum,” said Fred. 

“But hey, at least we’re saving you money!” George said. 

“And not giving me grandchildren,” she mumbled, but loud enough for everyone to hear. 

You decided to jump in and defend your friends. “At least you’ve still got other kids who are starting their own families, Molly. And besides, do you really want to have these two bring little Fred’s and George’s into the world?”

Molly smiled and put her hand on your shoulder. “I suppose you’re right dear. They were, and still are, quite a handful.”

“Hey!” they both shouted, clearly offended.

You giggled and wandered off with Molly, telling her the latest stories of the many troubles the twins had gotten into. 

------------------------------

Hermione, never one for athletics, was suddenly an Olympic sprinter, flying down the halls of the London airport. She reached the ticket counter, cutting off some very angry travelers, and threw her bags onto the scale. 

After a few long seconds of leaning over and catching her breath, she finally muttered a “hi” to the ticket agent. 

“Hello,” she replied cheerfully. 

“Oh, umm, hello!” Hermione replied, mirroring the chipperness of the agent. “When is your next flight to New York City?”

“There’s one leaving in 30 minutes,” she replied. 

“Oh, thank Godric,” she muttered, earning herself a few odd looks from passersby at her unique choice of language. 

The woman behind the counter typed a few things into her computer. “The last minute fare on this ticket is twenty seven hundred dollars.”

Hermione reached around in her purse, fumbling with gold and silver coins. “How about galleons?” she asked. 

“I’m sorry?”

“Nevermind,” Hermione sighed, sprinting off again to apparate to Diagon Alley and exchange her galleons for Muggle money. There was no way she was going to miss this flight. 

------------------------------

“I’d like to make a toast!” Fred announced, standing up from his table with a wine glass in hand. “Ron and Lavender. Of course, my big toast will be tomorrow at the wedding, so this is kind of my little toast or Melba toast, if you will.”

He was only met with silence and you and George very visibly facepalmed. 

“Okay…” he continued hesitantly. “I’ve known Ron for a long time. His whole life, actually. See I got the first two years of my life without my baby brother, but nope he’s always had me, and I know he’s so incredibly grateful for that.”

When once again there was no reaction, Fred decided it was time to up the performance. 

“I remember when Ron was going out with his first girlfriend. And I thought things were going to work out for him. Until the day he over inflated her!” Fred winked at his little brother, whose face was redder than his hair. For the third time in the last minute Fred did not get anywhere close to the reaction he had expected. “Oh dear Godric…”

“How about I take over for you, Freddie.” George said, taking the microphone from his slightly older brother. “Everyone knows I am the more charming twin, isn’t that right?” He was met with some soft giggles and a whoop from one of the bridesmaids sitting a few tables away. Fred begrudgingly plopped down into his seat, leaning his head on your shoulder as he pouted for the rest of the dinner. 

As everyone finished their speeches, you giving one about your friendship with Ron that even brought Molly to tears, you found yourself sprawled out on a fancy couch still consoling Fred. 

“I was laughing,” you said while patting him on the knee. 

“Out loud?” he asked, crossing his arms and shoving your hand away. 

You looked down at your wine glass guiltily. “Well I didn’t want everyone to think I was stupid.” Fred groaned and buried his face in his hands, ruffling his hair in frustration that you knew went deeper than a few poor jokes. “Hey, how are you doing?”

He looked up at you questioningly, cocking his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t try to hide it from me, Freddie, I can tell when something’s bothering you, and I know it’s not just that your jokes sucked arse.”

“No, the audience sucked arse, I’m fucking hilarious.” You kicked him lightly, urging him to tell you. With a long sigh Fred sat up and turned to face you, his big brown eyes void of their usual cheerful gleam. “Mum’s driving me crazy! I mean, I get it, she wants me to get married and settle down and have kids, but she has 6 other children, two of them with kids of their own already! I don’t know, this whole wedding thing has just put a lot more pressure on me, that’s all.”

You tenderly rubbed his shoulder, feeling him relax slightly at your touch. “Don’t listen to her, ok? Marriage isn’t for everyone. Same with kids. You’re independent and carefree, and you shouldn’t feel like you have to settle down if you don’t want to.”

He mumbled something under his breath, too quiet for you to hear. “What?” 

“I said…” he began slowly, “I said that it’s not that. It’s the complete opposite actually.”

Fred glanced across the room at his youngest brother holding hands with his fiancée and whispering something into her ear. “It’s just...he’s my younger brother. He’s Ron, for Merlin’s sake! How did Ron get a girl before me?”

“Aww, is Freddie jealous of his little brother?” you teased, knocking your shoulder into his. When he didn’t answer you tried to sober up, not used to seeing this side of Fred. 

“I’m 26, Y/N,” he cried out. “And I know that’s not old or anything, but I just figured I’d have my life together by now. Maybe a long term girlfriend, or even--” he paused for a moment, continuing to watch Ron and Lavender. “--or maybe it would’ve been me walking down the aisle with someone I love.”

“Come here, love,” you cooed as you pulled Fred into your chest. “You know there’s no rush. Sure Ron’s getting married, but I think he found himself the only person in the world who’d ever date him and he had to tie her down quick.”

Fred shuddered into your chest with a small laugh, bringing his hands up to aimlessly play with your hair. “Yeah,” he said, “and we all know that the girls are lined up just waiting for me. I guess I’ve got time.”

“Exactly. And plenty of it.” Fred continued to play with your hair as you did the same with his, occasionally scratching at his scalp and listening to the quiet whimpers he would let out. 

He shifted so he was looking up at you, mere inches away from your face. “Y’know, you’ve been acting strange lately too. What’s bugging you?”

“It’s nothing Freddie, I--”

“Uh uh.” He shook his head. “I poured my heart and soul out to you, the least you could do is do the same to me.”

Sighing, you checked around you to make sure no one would be able to overhear. “Promise you won’t tell Ron? I don’t want it to make anything weird in our relationship.”

Fred snapped his head between you and his younger brother, eyes growing wide as he jumped to the nearest possible answer. “You’re bloody in love with him, aren’t you?!”

“What?” you asked, laughing at the ridiculous accusation. “No! Oh, no no no, not at all! I’ve known him since we were 11, and trust me, watching young Ronnie throw up slugs will turn anyone off of him.”

Fred smiled down at you and breathed a sigh of relief, glad that you weren’t getting your heart broken by being at the wedding. “So what is it then? Promise I won’t tell, swear on George’s life.”

You rolled your eyes but snuggled up next to him, feeling much more comfortable with your best friend as close as possible. “Fine. You’re not the only one having to deal with parent problems. Like I said I’ve been friends with Ron since my family first found out I was a witch. My parents, being Muggles, immediately fell in love with your family, and Ron as well whenever he would come to visit over the summer. My mum has this whacked out idea that it should be me that’s marrying him tonight. She’s so disappointed, told me I’m passing up the best thing that’s ever happened to me. But he’s just Ron! I could never see him like that. He’s like a brother to me.”

Fred sat silently throughout your whole rant, rubbing small circles over your knuckles with his thumb. When it seemed you had finally finished, Fred had no idea what to say. He had never been the comforting sort and had always managed to make it worse. As he did this time as well. 

“Do you see me like that too?”

You looked at him with scrunched eyebrows, trying to understand how he decided on that as a response. 

“As a brother, I mean.” He stuttered through his words. “Am I just another brother to you?”

“‘Course you are, Freddie. I love you like family.” He gazed at you lovingly, wondering what he had done to have a friend like you in his life. 

“How about this then?” he asked. “How about, since your mom wants you to marry a Weasley, if by the time we’re both 40 and still single, why don’t we marry each other?”

He looked so sweet offering this to you, so kind and thoughtful. You knew that the deal would benefit him as well, but to you it felt like he was doing this only for you. And you knew he would do anything for you. 

“I appreciate the offer, but I actually only promised George the same thing,” you said, making Fred’s jaw drop and a scowl appear on his face. 

“George! My own bloody twin? How could you, Y/N? I revoke my proposal.”

“I’m practically in tears,” you said stoically. Deciding it was time to go out and mingle instead of throwing yourselves a pity party, you grabbed Fred’s hand and made your way over to find George, only to be stopped by a very obviously drunk man. 

He put a hand on your shoulder which made both you and Fred tense up. “I just want to say,” he said through slurred speech, “that Ron is a wonderful young man.”

Fred eased his grip on your hand a little bit, sensing that this man wasn’t going to do anything to you. You gave him a thankful look before turning your attention back to the hammered American. “Well thanks, we like him.”

The man stepped closer to examine your face, his booze breath going straight up your nose. It took all you had not to throw up because of it. 

“My God!” he exclaimed, “you two must’ve been teenagers when you had him!” 

You and Fred both stared straight ahead, insecurities and doubts increasing tenfold at the misunderstanding. You gritted your teeth and held back from slapping the man, who luckily made his way to another table to insult someone else. 

Fred turned you to face him and gripped your shoulders tight, leaning down so he was eye to eye with you. “The guy was hammered, okay? There’s no way that you look like Ron’s mum. Nor I his dad for that matter!”

“Then why would he say it?” you grumbled, pushing Fred away from you and going to get rid of your sadness by gorging on some food. 

“Because he’s crazy!”

“Oh, my mother’s right. I’m never going to get married.”

“Ahh, you know what?” Fred touched the small of your back softly, turning you around to face him, his breath growing heavy in exasperation. “This is...who wouldn’t want you?”

------------------------------

The next morning, the biggest day of Ron’s life, he was racing down the hallways practically bouncing off the walls. He was getting married. After a failed relationship with Padma years before, Ron had finally been able to heal and pour his love onto someone else. Lavender Brown. 

Sure, the relationship had moved fast. Really fast, actually. They had only been together for a few months before Ron popped the question, to which a very ecstatic Lavender happily agreed. He knew it was unorthodox. He knew it was impulsive. But he didn’t care. Because someone loved him. 

He shot through the door of Fred and George’s hotel room, making Fred jolt awake with a start. 

“I’m getting married today!” he screamed. “Whoo-hoo!” 

Fred scrambled around in the bed sheets for a few seconds before scowling at his brother. “Morning, Ron.”

“I’m getting married. To-day!” he said, ignoring the annoyed looks Fred was shooting him. 

Relaxing a little Fred smiled. “Yeah you are!”

Ron jumped around and sprinted out of the room, screaming as he ran down the hall to announce his feelings to all of the other hotel guests. 

The bed in which Fred was sleeping shifted once again, but it wasn’t Fred’s doing. You shot up from under his covers, holding the blankets to cover your naked chest and panting heavily in worry. “Do you think he knew I was here?”

Fred slowly shook his head, refusing to make eye contact with you. He shifted in the bed, his leg accidentally brushing yours. You yelped and he quickly moved away, apologizing profusely. 

After a long awkward silence, Fred finally spoke. “Well, I’ve--I’ve never done that with you before.”

“Nope,” you replied, popping the ‘p’ and sinking down further into the bed, trying to disappear. 

“So, ahh, how are you?” he said slowly. “You okay?”

You nodded, clutching the sheets so hard that your knuckles were turning white. “Yep, yep. You?”

“Yes, yes, uh huh. You?” The two of you finally made eye contact, faces equal shades of vermillion. “We did you. I did you. I--umm, sorry not the time.”

It got quiet once again. You let out a long breath, wondering how you were supposed to move on from sleeping with your best friend. You wanted to blame the alcohol from last night, but neither of you were drunk. You’d only had one glass of wine, just enough to make you a little more confident than normal. Apparently that was enough to do the trick. 

“Well… I’d better get going,” you told him, starting to sit up before remembering you and Fred were both naked under the sheets. 

“Oh, yea yea, absolutely,” he stammered, gesturing for you to leave. 

“Could you not look, please?”

“I don’t want to look.” Fred covered his eyes, not even pretending to peak through them. It was uncomfortable enough as it is, he really didn’t want to be joking around at the moment. 

You slowly slid off the bed, taking a moment to let what had happened last night fully sink in. Had you ruined your friendship with Fred? Was it going to be this weird from now on? You hustled to grab your clothes from yesterday, ready to complete the infamous walk of shame. Thankfully, your room was just down the hall so any chances of you being caught were slim. All you had to do was put on a happy face for the wedding, pretend to enjoy yourself, and forget any of this ever happened. Yeah, that would work. Right?

------------------------------

Lavender’s eyes went wide as she took in the scene around her. The wedding hall was absolutely gorgeous, decorated in elegant fairy lights and flowers hanging from baskets on the ceiling. It was like she was a princess in her own personal fairy tale. 

She spun around in her wedding dress, not even caring about the weird looks some of her parents’ friends were giving her. She never cared for them, or the family status, anyway. She just wanted to live her life as her own person, taking each step with someone she loved holding her hand. 

“Hey.” Lavender was interrupted by the voice of her lover, standing bashfully a few feet away with his hands in his pockets. 

“Ron!” she chastised playfully. “You’re not supposed to see me in my wedding dress, it’s bad luck!”

“I think we’ve had all the bad luck we’re going to have.” Lavender grinned and jumped into Ron’s arms, giggling as he swung her around. He finally put her down kissing the top of her head as he did so.  “I’ll see you in a few hours, when you’re finally mine forever.”

“It can’t come soon enough.” The brunette was then distracted by Parvati calling her name, so she bid Ron goodbye and skipped over to her maid of honor. 

She didn’t notice the unexpected guest standing at the end of the aisle, listening to their entire conversation. Or maybe if she did, she chose to ignore it. After all, her and Ron’s bad luck was over. She was finally getting the one thing she wanted most in life. To be loved. 

Ron stared longingly at the girl he loved so deeply talk to her best friend, before the same unexpected guest that Lavender hadn’t noticed caught his eye. “Oh Merlin, Hermione!”

He ran up to her and kissed her on the cheek, ecstatic that his friend had decided to come to New York for his wedding. “You’re here. I can’t believe it! What happened? Why are you here?”

Hermione took a quick glance over at where Lavender was standing. She had seen everything. Heard it all. She knew how much they both cared for each other, and who was she to stand in the way of their love? She had missed her chance with Ron, but Lavender hadn’t. 

“Well I just came…” She touched his chest right near his heart, tears threatening to spill. “I just needed to tell you…” 

She couldn’t do it. It wasn’t fair to either of them. Hermione took a deep breath and put on a fake smile. “Congratulations.”

Ron grabbed her tightly and hugged her with all of his strength, tears of joy pooling in his eyes. Tears continued to grow in Hermione's, but for completely different reasons. Today was the day everything changed. Today her chance was gone. Forever. 

------------------------------

If the chapel was beautiful before, it was even more extravagant with all of the lights lit up and the band playing soft, romantic music. Any normal day you would’ve enjoyed the site, wishing that someday you could have a wedding just like this. But unfortunately the only thing on your mind was the events of the previous night. 

“Ready?” George whispered to you, getting ready to walk one of the other bridesmaids down the aisle. He could tell something was wrong, but he didn’t want to push you. You nodded your head, sending your friend a thumbs up before it was his turn to make his walk. 

“Ready?” asked a nearly identical voice to the one before. Fred stood behind you, his hair styled for once and his clothes neatly pressed and cleaned. He did clean up well, you had to admit. But, not that you would ever say this to anyone, you quite liked it better when he wasn’t wearing anything at all. 

“I’m ready.” He linked his arm in yours, guiding you slowly down the dimly lit aisle. 

Fred couldn’t help but steal a few glances at you. Your eyes were focused straight ahead, refusing to look at anything except the alter at the end of the walk. If you just made it to the end of the walk, everything would be ok. Everything would be over. But maybe Fred didn’t want everything to be over, just not yet. He sucked in a breath and decided to take a chance. 

“What he did last night,” he whispered, slowing down as to elongate the conversation as much as possible. 

“Stupid,” you muttered. 

“Totally crazy stupid!” Fred got a few rude glances at his loud volume, so he checked himself before continuing. “I...I’m coming over tonight though, right?”

Your breath hitched in your chest. You were so close to the end of the aisle. You could ignore him and ignore whatever was going on between the two of you. It could all go back to normal, just a few more steps. 

But your heart took over, and you said something that you knew future you might regret, but you didn’t care. It was worth the risk. 

“Oh yeah, definitely.”

Fred squeezed your arm as you made your last steps to the front of the chapel, separating and taking your places in the rows of wedding participants. 

You scanned the crowd, seeing Hermione fidgeting nervously in her seat. You felt awful for what she must be going through, but proud that she decided to accept it. Hermione was tough, that was for sure. She could handle anything. 

“Friends. Family. We are gathered to celebrate here today the joyous union of Ron and Lavender. May the happiness we share with them today be with them always. Now Lavender, repeat after me. I, Lavender.”

“I, Lavender,” she said with a grin so big it looked like it would jump right off her face. 

“Take thee Ron,” the minister continued. 

“Take thee Ron.”

“As my lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, till death parts us.”

“As my lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, till death parts us.”

She giggled and squeezed Ron’s hands tighter, mere seconds away from being united with the one she loved oh so much. 

“Now Ron,” said the minister, turning to the groom. “Repeat after me. I Ron…”

George winked at him and Fred gestured for him to speak. No matter how much they teased their little brother, they were so proud of him for finding someone to spend the rest of his life with. “I Ron…”

“Take thee, Lavender…”

“Take thee, Hermione…”

Gasps filled the room. You covered your mouth and looked out to the crowd at Hermione, who looked as if she had seen a ghost. Fred and George started whispering frantically to each other and Molly seemed as if she was about to either faint or slap Ron into another country. 

But nothing compared to Lavender’s reaction. She stood there, frozen, hands going numb in the grip of the person she thought loved her. The one who only thought of her. The one who chose her. 

“Lavender!” Ron corrected, nervously chuckling in order to hide the growing humiliation. “Lavender.”

The minister looked between the bride and groom, having no idea where to go from there. “Uhh...shall I go on?”

Hermione couldn’t take her eyes off of Ron. He had just said her name. Her name. Not Lavender’s. Hers. 

What was supposed to happen next?

Tag List: @fandomhideout @amourtentiaa

[herstarburststories]

Important Milestones (Damian Wayne x reader)

✾ Summary: An intimate look through your and Damian's relationship. Requested! It’s been a hot bit since I wrote for Damian, so I hope this one is good!

↼❈⇁

First meeting

Dick was taking Damian to the circus

Add a long conversation and lots of "Yeah, Dami. I'm sure the animals are treated well-- Actually, animals aren't allowed in legal circus anymore. You don't have to worry."

They were watching the show, and Damian couldn’t believe that Grayson was so excited about clowns

Damian excused himself to get some food

Dick asked him to get a hotdog, but Damian will bring him popcorn #beaveg

Thing is, you and Damian arrived the food trunk at the same time

Which leaded to an argument

Y/N: I got here first!

Damian: You are not on the line!

Y/N: Because you almost ran over me!

You two kept going long enough for a worried Dick to show up

How to trust each other

You know when you've never seen a person before, but once you lay your eyes on them, you start seeing their face in every crowd?

That's basically you and Damian

How come you didn't know the idiot from the circus was also the Wayne guy that studied with you?

How he, with Talia and Batman's observation skills, never noticed you walking around Gotham's School and now he always caught a sight of you?

You and Damian quickly fall into a weird routine:

Glare each other during lunch

Rolls your eyes when the others was talking in class

Annoy each other whenever you had the chance

Jon teased him a lot

Talking about Superboy...

He seemed off in the morning and he hadn't showed up for lunch like he always did

Damian decided to look for his best friend

Surprisingly, he found Jon crying in your arms in the middle of the chemistry laboratory

You just looked at Damian and nodded for him to come in

Y/N: His parents had a big fight. I found him here alone and thought I could help. Since you are here, guess I'll go.

Damian: You can stay. I mean, Jon probably could use your emotional assistance.

Damian still finds you annoying (and so do you), but you helped his friend

He trust you... A bit

Recognize your feelings

Damian came to school one day. He is clearly hurt-- he couldn’t even walk straight

Jon remained quiet. He was there when the week's villain throw Damian against a wall as if he was a bag of potatoes

But you don't know about the Robin detail

Besides, you are sort of a trinity with them now

Therefore, you worry

And you ask

And you worry some more

It's been a few weeks since your friendship started. Damian trusts you, he really does, but not enough to tell you

Let's keep in mind that pretty much like Bruce, Damian isn't the best when it comes to expressing his feelings through anything but violence

So, he acts like an idiot

Y/N: Damian, come on. I'm not stupid enough to believe you’d fall hard enough to get yourself hurt like this. Talk to me.

Damian: Stop pushing your need to fix everything on me, Y/N. You are not my mother. Don't waste your worry on me, I don't need it.

You realized you liked him when you felt way more worried than you usually would

But Damian just noticed his cherish for you when you glared at him with evident hurt in your eyes and left the table

He just wanted you back, making silly jokes with Jon and stealing his fries

Kiss me, idiot

Two days

48 hours + 12 minutes since you two fought

A whole weekend

LISTEN, his life was going perfectly well before you came along

Now it seems like you opened a spot that's exactly your fit and put yourself there

Whenever you aren't around, Damian feels this weird sensation of missing

Jon convinces him into talking to you

As soon as he sees you in school, he does

Apologize becomes another argument (surprise, surprise)

Damian: Why do you care so much?!

Y/N: Because I like you, idiot!

Damian: You, you like me? As in--

Then you kiss him

Because, let's be clear, you'd end up kissing or punching him

Finding out he's Robin

It's the most stupid way possible

Like, for real

Last night, his Robin's duties kept Damian up until 5am

Instead of leaving his clothes inside the Batcave as usual, he just crumbled to his bed

The sun arrived and so did you

School project

While Damian was out to grab some books, you were studying his room

A picture of him and Jon. Some papers with Arabian words. A dog's bed. Robin suit. A sword

Wait, come back

A. Robin. Suit.

Damian Wayne was many things, but cosplayer certainly wasn't on the list

The pieces glued together fast

A rich family would make sense: Batman and Robin's instruments never looked cheap. Four Robins existed among the years, and Damian had 3 brothers. Not to mention that he'd show up with random scratches and never explain what happened. He was good with swords, and the current Robin had been seen with them a lot of times. Besides, Damian Wayne would never wear a costume willingly, much less keep one in his room

He walks inside the room to see you wearing his cape and mask

Y/N: Guess I'm robin' your persona, huh? Wanna tell me something?

Meeting the family

You come from a big family

Good thing because anybody else would be scared if they were in your shoes

MESS, MESS, MESS

Dick is smiling like a crazy all the time, and making dad jokes

Tim is teasing Damian by asking you to blink twice if you need saving

Jason is directly fighting Damian and calling him devil spawn

Bruce is quietly watching everyone with a subtle smile on his lips. He asks you a few questions, and occasionally asks the boys to behave before answering his phone and excusing himself

Babs, Steph and Cassandra come in later

Now the teasing is divided between you and Damian and Steph and Tim

You tease them a lot, blushing Tim is adorable

You are wearing purple boots, and Steph already loves you for that

Dick tells Babara about you being aware of the family secret

She offered to train you for some self-defense

YOU ACCEPTED, DUH. SHE IS THE BATGIRL!!

Cass is more quiet, but very friendly

Alfred was the first batfam member that you'd met, though (also your fav)

You try (key word being try) to help him in the kitchen

Batcow became your best friend, sorry Jon

You met the Titan family as well

Now you had munition to tease Dick as much as he teased you and Damian

Thank you, Kory

Also, Kor is a real life alien princess, how cool is that!?

Beast Boy is the funniest guy -- and now you are pretty sure you became a vegetarian because you can't eat animals after seeing his transformation

Raven reminds you of Cass

Donna is so powerful, and she knows so many languages!

You get along with his two families

Although Damian rolls his eyes a lot during y'all interaction, he is really happy

First kid

You and Damian are in university when it happens

You both know it's a big step

There's no turning back, you two will always be connected

Damian and you are now responsible, parents

Of the cutest bunny!

Yep, you insisted on naming him Robin

The first kid you both adopted together

Get on your knees for me

Damian isn't much of a romantic

You don't really mind

But when he proposes, it's the sweetest thing

You two had ordered some veggie food to celebrate the end of your finals

Finally a break!

Damian was holding you on the couch as you both watched one of your favorite movies when Robin, the bunny showed up

Y/N: Batbunny, just because we have vegan food, it doesn't mean you can get some. Go eat your lettuce.

Damian: Beloved, maybe you should see what he brought for you.

The bunny had a necklace wrapped around him!!

And the said necklace was attached to a ring!!

A FUCKING DIAMOND!?

Extra of love:

You became a vigilant for a bit before deciding how you truly wanted to help people

Besides charity, you became a lawyer specialized in cases of racism and immigration

Your and Damian's wedding was a mix of your culture and his

Comment/Reblog if you liked it, feedback is magic! Wanna see more? Check my Masterlist! How about get tagged on my batboys or just Damian works? Ask me or add yourself to my taglist!