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mostly-imagines · 6 months ago

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The Alchemy vol. II

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood

part one

warnings: depictions of blood and injury, standard gotham violence, jason doesn't know how to have feelings, reader is angry, threats against readers life, implied concern of sexual assault

It might be a matter of deficiency in self-preservation skills, how the sound of your window sliding open does nothing to phase you. You don’t know if that’s your fault or his.

“How’s it goin’ down there?” You mumble, not sitting up from your position on the couch.

He pushes the window shut in his wake, huffing. “I am up here for a reason,” he says factually.

You crane your head back just in time to see him tug the red helmet off his head, setting it down on your side table. He has on his under-mask that covers the lower half of his face. You don’t like that one.

He glances around your apartment as he approaches with slow steps. “Why are all the lights off?”

“Forgot to turn ‘em on,” you tell him simply.

He frowns at you, confusion evident.

You pay him no mind though, taking an exaggerated breath and pushing yourself up off the couch before trotting over to the kitchen. You open the fridge and scrummage for a water bottle. Jason thinks it’s odd how long it takes you to find one in your own fridge.

Once it's (eventually) in your hands, you chug down several gulps and toss the half empty bottle towards the counter where it lands with a sloppy thump and rolls.

When you return, he’s leant against the armrest of your chair, watching you. You stop in the middle of the room, a contemplating stare on the floor. He tilts his head at you, wondering what you could possibly be thinking so hard about.

You take a deep breath before plopping down to lay on the carpet all in one go.

He peers down at you, barely trying to hide his amusement. “You’re drunk.”

You shake your head, “I’m not sober.”

“That’s—yeah.” He stands all the way, coming to lay down on the floor next to you, using significantly more coordination than you had.

He lays in between you and the couch, though it doesn’t seem you’d left him much room. If he minds, it doesn’t show. “What’d you do?”

“I jus’ went out with my friend,” you tell him, closing your eyes. “She moves pretty fast..”

It occurs to him that you might be laying on the ground because you got nauseous. He turns to look at you, scanning you over. “You good?”

“I feel great,” you keen. “I feel…swooshy.”

He gives you a bemused look. “Dizzy?”

You shake your head with a great deal of consideration on your face, “No, not even dizzy, just…swoosh.” You throw out a hand with a theatrical flick.

“Mhm.”

You pucker your lips to the side. “You come here a lot,” you comment, clearly working up to some greater observation.

“You’re in my neighborhood,” he shrugs.

Your head tilts, “You live here?”

He pauses before correcting himself, “My territory.”

You hum, “Still. There has to be other people around here you know. ‘Specially if you’re passing out on balconies on the reg.”

He frowns, “I try not to make a habit out of it.”

You continue on, “Why do you always go to my apartment? There’s—”

“I don’t always come to your apartment—”

You deadpan, “You’re here like three nights a week. And I don’t even help you that much anymore, you’ve used up my whole first aid kit.”

You can literally feel the eyeroll like you have a sixth sense for it. “That thing wasn’t exactly impressive to start with..”

“Did enough for you, didn’t it? Anyways, my point is: I think you like me,” you say with a nod.

That has him going absolutely rigid, “What?”

“I’ve heard you’re an asshole.”

“What?”

You nod, “Like, people that run into you. They say you’re kind of a dick. You help ‘em ‘n everything, but also while being a dick. Sometimes.”

“Okay...”

“But you’re nice to me. Sort of,” you squint. “I think you like me.”

He hasn’t felt this straggled in a conversation in a while. “I—well I’m not here because you’re a world-class medic.”

You scoff, “There’s no world-class medics..” But then your tone switches up, into something lighter. “We’re friends aren’t we? I think we’re friends.”

He shakes his head, staring up blankly. “Sure, we’re friends.”

“We’re friends and you like me,” you reiterate.

He really wishes you’d stop saying that. “Okay.”

“I like you too. Even though you’re kinda sketchy.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that.

You hum into the silence, looking up at the ceiling. “J…James, Jack, John…”

He smiles, gaze dancing across the egg-whitened popcorn texture of the ceiling. “I’m not going to tell you.”

You ignore him, “Jake, Jaden, Jason, Josh, Joe, Jesse…”

You’re about three shots too drunk to notice the way he briefly stiffens.

“Juuhhh…” you lull your head to the side, the letter fading out slowly as you look into his eyes. If you focus, you think you can make out a few of those little specks of green again.

He seems to already be running his own study on your irises, his eyes now softer than you can remember seeing them before.

His next words are whispered, the sounds barely escaping. “You’re pretty.”

What?

“What?”

“What?” He seems taken aback by his own words, like he also wasn’t expecting them to climb out of his mouth.

You can literally feel sobriety seeping back into your blood. “I’m…pretty?”

He blinks a few times, apparently trying hard to decide on what position he’s going to take here. “I—well…yeah.”

You blink once, relaxing. “I think…I think you’re pretty too.”

“What?”

“We can’t do this again.”

He breaks eye contact, looking almost dejected.

You turn your head down to where his hand thrums against the carpet. “I mean, I know I haven’t seen your whole face in one go, but I see the top half now and the bottom before, so I…maybe I shouldn’t be saying this.” You reset with a shallow breath, “I don’t know what your whole face looks like.”

“That was,” he blinks, eyebrows raised. “Fascinating.”

“Thanks,” you say flatly. You close your eyes again, though this time you remain facing him.

He feels a slight pang of guilt for the way he continues to ogle at you, eyes tracing over every detail of your face. But that ounce of guilt does nothing to outweigh the reward of gazing upon you. He didn’t mean to say it but he definitely meant it: you’re really fucking pretty.

Your eyelashes flutter for a moment before stilling, a display of peace washing over your features. It’s when your breathing steadies over and your face relaxes completely is when he starts to feel like a creep. It takes a lot of strength for him to force his eyes shut, depriving himself of the view.

And he doesn’t do it on purpose, but after a few moments his inhales and exhales take to the same rhythm of yours. The thin layer of the rug isn’t doing much to protect his back from the hardwood below and he’s pretty confident later he’ll curse himself for lying like this for so long.

But as he lays, he doesn’t find himself focused on the dark red-gray of his eyelids like usual, so much as the warmth from the proximity of your bodies. He’s usually so concentrated on whatever the hell is going on in his head and it prevents him from really truly resting, but now, the only thing taking up his attention is physical sensations.

He feels this warmth in his heart that if he didn’t know any better, he’d call burning. His hands feel numb and he can distinctly feel the beat of his own heart in his chest, thrumming away.

He presses his lips to your forehead with a feather light touch, slow to pull away. He doesn’t make it all the way back to his original position before his movement lulls and his body relaxes again, joining you gladly in unconsciousness.

Gotham City has a particular gift for inconveniencing you at the worst possible moment and doing it multiple times a week.

Tonight's round of problems resulted in an entire city district getting shut down, the district which is regrettably right between your job and your apartment.

So on top of having to hole up into your work for two hours longer than you were supposed to, it took you an extra 45 minutes getting home while trying to maneuver around every other person in the same situation. And just to cement the quality of this night, the door to your apartment building slams nice and hard against your side and the light in the hallway is out.

You groan when you fail to get your key the lock the right way for the third time, lodging it in a final time and shoving the door open. You flick on the kitchen light and dump your bag onto the counter, kicking the door shut behind you.

You take a deep breath, eyes closed, as you lean your head back against the wall. The second you crack your eyes open again, a pile of red mass on the floor behind your couch catches your attention and startles some energy right back into your chest.

“Oh, shit,” you scurry over towards the window, crumbling down onto your knees in front of him. Your eyes dart across the red helmet, trying to makeout any signs of consciousness. “Hood?”

There’s no response from him, no movement. You tug his helmet off, finding him eyes-closed with blood running down the side of his head. You push a hand down on his chest armor, shaking him. “J? J!”

His eyes flutter open slowly under his domino mask, adjusting to the light. With the disorientation on his face he looks younger, more his age. His hair is tousled up and you can make out some distinct curls in it when it's undone like this.

He grimaces, gloved hand coming up to his head. He looks wearily at the blood on his fingers, before plopping his hand back down and blinking up at you. “Hey..”

You sit back on your heels with a sigh, “What the fuck?”

He makes a strained effort to sit up on his own so you try to heave him up by his forearm. As he comes up all the way you glance behind his back at a bag crumpled discarded on the floor. You can barely see some sort of fabric poking out the top. “What is that?”

“Huh?” He throws back a tired glance, “Oh. They're..curtains.”

“Explain.”

He looks at you blankly, “You don’t have any curtains.”

You blink. “Explain.”

“It’s dangerous for people to just be able to look in and see you. So. Curtains.” For a guy who reads Dostoevsky, he’s not much of a wordsmith. Though that could be the concussion.

You reach around him and pull some of the fabric out of the bag, inspecting the linen. They match the theme of your living room.

You set it back down, blinking. “Thanks.”

He only gives a half-hearted shrug.

You look back at him, “How bad is the…?” You gesture to the side of your head.

He feels at the blood again, “It’s mostly just a cut. Shoulda stopped bleeding by now.”

You nod, “I’ll, uh—I’ll clean it up.”

He looks at you, shaking his head. “You don’t need to. Your kit’s almost empty anyways.”

“I restocked it,” you tell him, rising to stand. He lets you go retrieve your aid box without protest, listening blankly to the faucet run in the bathroom while you’re gone.

You return momentarily, damp rag in one hand, kit in the other. “Here, sit on the couch,” you tell him, nodding him up.

He lugs himself up off the hardwood and onto the cushion with a groan. You position yourself on the cushion next to him, leaning over to inspect the cut. You brush through his hair as gently as you can, though you have to suspect he wouldn’t have minded either way—if only based on the pain threshold you know him to have.

As much as you are completely in his space, you’re having trouble getting all the access you need to fix him up right. You turn and adjust your angle this way and that but none of it works.

You huff, sitting back. “I can’t..”

He nods his permission at you without delay, and you shift yourself over to sit fully on his lap, straddling him on the sofa. You put your focus into cleaning his wound, but you have to notice how deep he’s breathing and how he’s seemingly trying very hard to avoid eye contact. You’re sure your own breath is uneven and telling, and frankly you’re kind of hoping he has a concussion just so he might not notice it.

An unexpected sting has him flinching and grabbing your hips on instinct, a certain heaviness lingering in the air after contact. His hand tenses and he’s about to remove them from you completely when you manage to catch his gaze, and the few moments of silent eye contact are enough to convince him to stay. He forces his hands to relax against your waist, his fix on your face wavering before fizzling away completely.

You go back to dabbing at the blood and it’s clear that his thoughts get the better of him quickly. “You should move.”

“But then where would you go?”

He makes a rumbling noise from the back of his throat at that, saying nothing more.

You continue to wipe away at the blood until you can’t see it anymore, beyond the slice of the cut. You misjudge your own spatial awareness as you pull back from him, and the tips of your noses graze. Though the contact surprises you, you don’t move away from it. You become very acutely aware of his touch on your waist, how warm it feels atop your shirt.

His head leans forward just barely before stopping. He retreats slightly and his body ultimately decides to come closer. He doesn’t stop until his lips, slightly parted, skim across yours.

Your breath catches as he looms nearer, lips touching against yours softly. He tests that pressure out for a moment, before moving to kissing you with more intent. You kiss him back, and though there’s an increasing resolve on both of your parts, the connection itself remains gentle, reposeful.

The last slight movement of his lips gradually slips away as he rests his forehead against yours.

A long beat passes before he’s tightening his grip on your waist and pulling you up to stand. You aren’t given the time to process the shift as he’s moving straight past you, head down. He pauses only when he gets to the window, back turned to you.

“Sorry—I’m…” his shoulders drop, “Sorry.”

He climbs out and scales the fire escape in total silence until he’s gone completely.

You stand frozen in position, staring at the window with incredulity burning across your face.

What the fuck?

Two weeks pass of voided midnight visits.

You’re not sure what to make of that. He kissed you, not the other way around. You couldn’t possibly have done something to upset him or throw him off since he’s the only one who did anything. All in all, it’s a little disappointing.

There had been tension there and it wasn’t shocking for you to learn that he wanted to kiss you. It was a bit of a surprise for him to actually do it, though not a bad one. But you were thrown for a grand fucking loop when he immediately bailed out.

Maybe you can’t read him as well as you think because you’d expected him to at least say something about it. It was a borderline given that he would come back and there would be a bonus surplus of tension but then there would be a resolution. Because he wouldn’t kiss you and then never come back. Nobody would do that, it doesn’t make sense.

It’s a little more than embarrassing to admit that you’ve been purposefully staying home in the hope that he’ll drop in. After fifteen nights of disappointment, you decided to put your focus elsewhere.

You’d asked a friend of yours to go out with you tonight, and never one to decline a night out, she agreed happily.

The bell above the door jingles as you crack it open, peaking your head in. You find Chloe quickly, stood behind the bar with bottles in hand.

“Hey gorgeous,” she smiles at you, waving you in.

You step in, air conditioning hitting you hard. The sparkles on her cocktail dress catch your eye as she turns this way and that, trying to find the right spot for the whiskey.

Chloe hums to herself as she searches, honestly taking a bit longer than she should. “You been cool?”

You nod, “Yeah, just—you know…” She doesn’t. Your affiliation with the Red Hood is something you’ve kept to yourself, though you don’t know why. It would be safer, more responsible to let someone else know about these drop-ins, but something about it feels personal. A strange feeling to tack onto it, you think. A regrettable one, at least.

You take a deep breath, “You’ve been busy. Jessie call out again?”

She laughs dryly, “Oh yeah, of course. But it's fine, I love staying over an hour after close.” She sighs, “I’m almost done anyway.”

You circle around the bar, looking over the several yet-to-be-sorted bottles. “You need help?”

“No, there’s—” she cuts herself off as she looks over at the front door, face dropping. “Oh, shit. Duck.”

“Wha—” she yanks you down to the floor to crouch awkwardly behind the counter.

You hear the bell ring as the door swings open, followed by several pairs of footsteps and low voices.

“—Christ, if she forgets to lock the door one more fucking time I’m gonna kill her.”

You look at Chloe through furrowed eyebrows, her grip on you still tight. She shakes her head and puts a finger to her lips.

A second man mutters something you can’t make out.

The first voice continues, “Go around back and lug the crates in, we gotta start packing that shit.”

Another voice, “The crates? They’re not here..”

There’s a heavy beat before the first voice speaks, “What the fuck do you mean they’re not here? She needs them now.”

“Well…the first shipments will be in later this week. The next batch’ll take until the end of the month, probably.”

A sigh, “Dumbass…”

The first voice huffs, “The end of the month? Are you fucking kidding me? I told you to get that shit ready weeks ago and you’ve got it coming in at the end of the month?”

“I’ll��I’ll see what I can do to get it sooner.”

“Yeah, you do that,” he grumbles. “Motherfucker. I need a drink. Get a bottle of something.”

One of the men rounds the counter, tracks falling short at the sight of you and Chloe huddled against the counter.

“What the fuck?”

You and Chloe are wide-eyed and frozen as he sneers down at you. Still, he looks like he’s trying to be tougher than he is, compensating for size that he does not have, with an attitude that doesn’t match up with the way he sped around the counter to get the other man a drink.

Another guy comes around and you quickly recognize him as the man in charge. He frowns at Chloe, sighing, “You’re not supposed to be here still, Chloe.”

She shifts her weight, “I was just…finishing inventory…”

The bossman’s eyes move to you, laced with nothing but inconvenience. “Oh and you brought a friend. Great.”

“Mr. Murray, we were just ab—”

He’s quick to cut her off with a hand, “Chloe. Stop talking.”

Her face falls flat and her words die off without hesitation.

“Get up.”

She’s pushing herself off the ground instantly while you’re still on the floor catching up with what the hell’s going on. As she moves out from behind the bar, you scurry to follow her. Your arm bumps against hers as you fiddle with the seams at the bottom of your outfit.

You dressed to go out with your friend on a Friday night, not to meet three mobsters in a closed bar with no witnesses. That’s to say, you’re feeling a little exposed.

You stand in the center of the bar, the three men looking various degrees of annoyed looks across their faces. Though the oldest looking of the bunch has something else in his eyes as he looks you up and down, in no rush to hide his engrossment in your bare legs.

“How old are you, honey?” Even without the blatant ogling, that’s never a good question to hear from a fifty year old man.

Your eyes avert to the floor, lips pursing.

“Hey, don’t be rude. I asked you a question.” He nudges your chin up a bit rougher than necessary, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

Somehow, you feel like there’s no answer here that would help you.

The man at the bar serves as an unexpected saving grace of sorts, muttering, “We don’t have time for this.”

Your pursuer shakes his head, looking you over in a way that makes you feel very small. “I think we got plenty of time.”

“I disagree.”

All heads whip to the doorway where the Red Hood leans against the frame, checking his phone. A never invited but always welcome addition to the party. At least for you.

The man in front of you instantly steps back, putting some distance between the two of you. Hands across the room instinctively fly to holsters only to begrudgingly relax at their sides, probably figuring drawing on Red Hood isn’t in their best interest. Though your focus lies on the bell above his head that didn’t make a peep whenever he came in.

Hood shuts his phone off and puts it away with a quiet sigh before glancing up at the tension-filled room. He literally double takes when his helmet scans past you. You somehow feel more in trouble now than you did two minutes ago.

“Hood..” the bossman says measuredly. “What are you doing here?”

He stares at you for a second longer before tearing his gaze away. “Just thought I’d check up on you, Murray. Make sure you’re not causing trouble in light of our agreement.” He makes a point of looking back at you and Chloe at that last part before looking to Murray expectantly.

He waves that off easily, “This is nothing. Just two late-shift employees.”

Hood takes a piqued breath. “You picked a bad time to lie to me,” he says flatly.

Murray shakes his head, “Look, we’re just cleaning up a mess. No harm.”

“Really?”

“This clean up benefits you too, they heard too much. The one girl—Chloe, get out. She’s fine, she’s not talking.”

Chloe wastes no time exiting hastily. Bye Chloe.

He continues, “We only need to kill one of them.” He says it like this is an ideal compromise. You’re feeling differently.

Hood huffs, pulling out a gun from his holster. “I’m thinking it’s implied that killing innocent people is a form of causing trouble. Which is in direct violation of our agreement.” He cocks the gun, pointing it at Murray’s head.

Murray steps back dramatically, throwing his hands up. “Hey, an alliance is an alliance!”

Hood wavers his head to the side, “Alliance is a strong word. Temporary tolerance maybe…”

The short man pipes up, “Okay, calm down, calm down. Nobody needs to get killed. We can cooperate.”

“That’s the spirit,” Hood quips, lowering his gun.

The older one shakes his head, “We don’t have anything on her, she’ll talk.”

The short man demurs, “We don’t know that—”

“She saw too much, we can’t have her walking around with that information,” Murray says, moving towards you.

Hood puts his hands up like some kind of mediator, “Nobody’s killing anybody.”

Murray scoffs, “You were gonna kill me!”

Hood's hands drop as he stands in full, “And I still might!”

Boldly, Murray steps up to him.

But Hood looks down at him, easily a full head taller than him and at least twice his muscle mass. “Let's weigh out your odds here, Murray. Is that a fight you’re winning?”

The look on Murray’s face tells you it’s not and he struggles to maintain this chest to chest confrontation.

It only takes him a moment of wavering to decide to back off, though he sure as hell doesn’t look happy about it.

Hood pushes past him, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you towards him.

Murray splutters, watching you go. “You can’t—I-I know people.”

“I am people,” Hood grumbles, steering you towards the door.

Though you can be sure they have them, no one voices any objections aa he pulls you outside.

His stride doesn’t even falter as he marches you down the sidewalk in the direction of your apartment. Aside from the sound of the breeze wisping past your ears, it’s silent between you.

After two blocks you get the strong impression that this muted exchange of energy is just going to keep on, so you force yourself to find something to rattle off about. “That uh, that seems like something he’s gonna be mad about.”

He huffs, “Yeah, well he can get over it or die so I guess it’s a personal choice.”

You frown at his tone, “What’s your problem?”

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say as his head snaps in your direction. “Why the hell are you out here?”

His sharp attitude has you stumbling a bit. “Why are you out here? You have a concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion,” he grumbles. “And I just saved your life so maybe complaining about it isn’t your best move right now.”

You try to stop and face him but he doesn’t let you, keeping you moving along with him. “That’s what we’re doing? Really?”

Are these about the social skills that you had expected from him based on your first meeting? Yeah. But that first meeting was months ago. He’s proven again and again that he has half a brain and the ability to read a room so you’re really not fucking sure what the hell his problem is. He won’t acknowledge that he kissed you and all but jumped out your living room window, but he will snap at you for asking about his concussion that there’s no way he doesn’t have. Especially if he’s acting like this.

He ignores your comment, blatantly at that. “Did they say anything about a drug shipment?”

This is what we’re talking about? Sure. Fine. At least you’re talking.

You open your mouth briefly before closing it again, eyes narrowed. “I don’t know.”

He tries again, “What about Nocturna? Did you hear that name?”

“I…I don’t know.” You weren’t exactly taking notes behind the bar counter.

His head drops down heavily, “Okay, I think I’m seeing a trend for how this conversation’s gonna go...”

You gawk at him, astonished that he thinks it’s you who’s handling this discussion poorly. “You cannot be serious right now.”

He sighs, slowing as you approach the steps to your building, “Just—why’d they let Chloe go?”

You blink a few times, “I mean, she has a drug problem…” You guess that might be where she’s getting them from…

He nods solemnly, “Okay.”

You huff, turning to walk up the steps, shoulders heavy. You hope he’ll come up with you and maybe, just maybe, address the elephant in the room.

“Are you—” you turn around to face him again, met with nothing but vacant air.

A deep, tense, breath from you before calling out, “Really?”

One month. One month. And he decides to show up tonight like it’s no time lost. But there was some fucking time lost.

Count ‘em up, that’s one period, two paychecks, three grocery trips, four laundry days, and thirteen showers. And that stupid fucking vigilante ransacked your head during every single one.

You went through the five stages of grief for this bizarre, undefinable relationship and then discovered about six more while you were at it.

So when you walk out from the bathroom, you’re a little pissed to see him sitting there on your living room floor, helping himself to a glass of water.

Maybe it’s his domino mask that gives his expression the illusion of neutrality. Or maybe he really has no idea how insane it is that he would occupy your apartment like this after skipping out on you for an entire lunar cycle.

He leans against your armchair, inspecting a scratch on his lower arm. You enter silently, watching him the whole time as you make your way over to the far end of the couch.

He doesn’t look up at you though, not until after a minute or two of silence.

“You got any bandages left?” he asks, throwing a glance over his shoulder.

You stare at him incredulously.

After ten seconds with no response from you, he turns around fully, frowning. “What?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I—” he squints, eyes flickering across your face. “No?”

You continue to gawk at him, not trying for any words.

He stares back, eyes wide. “I don’t know what you want me to say...”

You tear your gaze from him, preferring to stare at the wall. “You know what, I think I know what your problem is.”

He gives a laugh with little life to it. “I only have one?”

You bite down on your lip, “You only have one I’m ready to kill you over.”

He sits with that for a minute. A long minute, before asking softly, “What is it?”

You shake your head, glaring at an unoccupied nail in the wall. “That you’re an idiot,” you mutter. You start to walk away before turning around again after a few steps. “Where the hell have you been?”

He blinks, “Uh, there’s just been a lot of—”

“Bullshit.”

He’s about to argue his point, but quickly decides to concede, “Yeah.” He takes a deep breath, sitting back. “I…wasn’t prepared for this conversation,” he says carefully.

You scoff with a nod, “Yeah, neither was I, but it’s happening. I m—what did you think was going to happen here? I—you kissed me, you kissed me!”

“No I—” he huffs, “I shouldn’t have done that, okay?”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

He sighs, throwing his hands up at his sides. “What do you want me to say?”

You shrug without genuinity, “Anything that could possibly rationalize that sequence of decisions. You kiss me, run away, ghost me for a fucking month, and then show up again like nothing happened.”

He shuts his eyes, shaking his head. “I know, I know, I’m sorry!”

“I’m not asking you to be sorry, I’m asking you to pick a fucking lane and stick to it!”

He falls silent at that, eyes on the floor. It’s quiet for long enough that you start to think he’ll accept the silence as his cue to leave. You’re not sure if you want him to or not.

You take a deep breath, eyes closed. “I need you to start being straight with me. Now.”

He doesn’t look up, taking his time to find his words. “I am sorry,” he tells you. “I…I’m not good at this. I’m not good with words so I shouldn’t have fucking done it.”

Honestly you weren’t expecting him to actually come up with a reason, so you’re not prepared to weigh out whether or not it’s a good one.

“I like you...a lot. And I didn’t know—I don’t know—what to do about it so I kissed you and I didn’t think it through, and…I guess I panicked.”

That’s more than enough for you to warrant looking back over at him. It doesn’t take long for your gaze to start shifting around awkwardly while you scratch at your neck. “I would’ve taken you for more of a fight over flight kinda guy.”

He nods to himself. “Jus’ depends..” he says quietly.

And then it seems neither of you have anything else to say. You’ve run out of angry words to spit and he’s run out of apologies and excuses. But neither of you feel like you’re done.

The quiet lingers on for a painful amount of time. Your annoyance dissipates into something else, something more uncomfortable, but you couldn’t find a name for it. It’s got your thoughts going faster though and your chest feeling more hollow. Maybe not hollow…maybe just softer.

He cuts through your thoughts before you can, “Are you mad that I kissed you?”

You shake your head, “No. I’m mad about what happened after.” You’re just mad about what happened after. Should’ve said just.

He thinks about that for a moment.

“I can be honest with you,” he tells you. The way he says it, it’s somewhere between a peace offering and an assurance to himself.

You look at him again. He reads oddly vulnerable for a man his size with his reputation. You believe him.

He goes on, “I trust you, you know? I want you to trust me too, if you can.”

You blink a few times, processing. “I…I don’t know anything about you.”

He nods, an anxious aura radiating around him. He leaves you hanging for longer than a few moments, getting you convinced that the conversation is just going to end there.

It doesn’t though, and after a few minutes, he sits up and reaches up to his mask.

It has you sitting up too, like he just pulled out a gun. Your hands fly up instinctually, as though this is completely uncalled for, as if he’s crazy for doing it.

He pauses his movements for a moment, making eye contact with you. His eyes reaffirm his words. He trusts you and he wants you to trust him.

You allow your hands to relax onto your lap and he continues on, taking his mask off.

You’re not revealed to much more of his face than you’d already seen before, but entirely in view like this, he’s a sight. You try not to stare but there’s little reward to removing him from your sight whereas the alternative…

All together like this you can see how his features balance his face out so nicely and make for a warm countenance, if not rough.

He takes a deep breath, setting his mask to the side. “My name is J…” he says with assurance. “Todd,” he tacks on.

You don’t mean to, really, but you’re sure the frown on your face is evident as puzzle pieces start forming and connecting in your mind.

J…Todd…J…Jay…Todd…Jason…Todd…

Your mouth hangs open, “You’re Jason Todd. You’re de—” Well a couple things are starting to add up. “How are you…how are you not—”

He waves that away, tiredly. “It's a long story. Not particularly happy, either.”

Autopsy scar. Fuck.

“I mean, I’ll…” he hesitates, “I’ll tell you if you want me to.”

He says it, but discomfort is painted across his face. You’re quick to shake your head, “It’s okay.”

He nods, likely relieved.

You stand up from your seat, crossing the room to sit down next to him. You’d half-expected him to tense up, but his body relaxes when you lean back against the chair.

You close your eyes before asking, “Who’s Nocturna?”

“She’s just this woman that’s been causing trouble for us.”

You don’t say anything and he continues on, shaking his head. “She’s more annoying than anything.”

You open your eyes, looking over. “Yeah?”

He shrugs, “Just trying to take over the underworld, the usual stuff. Nothing you need to worry about.”

You give a laugh that’s barely more than an exhale, relaxing your body completely..

There’s the slightest lull in activity before he sets his hand down on the floor, right on top of yours. The sounds of your breathing are the only thing that fill the room for a few minutes, save for the occasional car horn.

He glances at the clock on the wall, nearing midnight. “I have to go...” He says reluctantly.

You try not to let the disappointment show through your body language. “Go where?”

He pauses before telling you, “A cemetery.”

You nod vacantly, “Oh. Just for fun, or…?”

He gives a dry laugh, “Just meeting an associate. They’re a bit dramatic, so.”

“Yeah, I’d say.”

“I’ll come back—I’m going to come back,” he mutters against your hairline.

You don’t respond, but you both know he’s good for his promise.

He looks around your apartment for a second before seemingly getting an idea. He pushes himself up off the ground and heads for your kitchen. You watch as he rips a sticky note off the deck on your fridge and scribbles something down on it.

He returns to you, kneeling down and pushing the square of paper into your hand. “Here,” he says, looking you in the eye. “If you need anything. Anything.”

You engulf the note in your palm, nodding sincerely. His eyes flicker across your face, like he’s thinking about something. He hesitates for a moment, turning towards you, away from you, then towards you again. He holds the back of your head tenderly before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.

You look at each other up close for a second with nothing short of starry eyes before he turns away and ducks out the window.

You open up your palm and look down at the paper, at the ten digits scrawled across it.

Huh.

Must be official.

🧨 reblog or die (this is a threat) 🧨

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please-picturemeintheweeds · 8 months ago

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prev tags are so!!!!

“This happens once every few lifetimes…These chemicals hit me like white wine” felt really ominous to me the first time I heard it, especially given her common themes of liquor/inebriation and love, and because it repeats at the beginning and end of the song. And the parallel @wavesoutbeingtossed pointed out with “all her fucking lives flashed before her eyes” which is a really weighty line. Plus, idk about y’all but white wine gives me a nasty hangover 🥴 I think all of that makes the couplet feel a bit jaded or sarcastic!

The song deals with the weird drunken anxiety+confidence of a new situation-ship/romance following the tragic demise of the last one. The eerie common ground between the beginnings (or getting back together with an ex) of both the best and worst relationships. Is this new thing good or bad or fated or chance or memory or present or wounding or healing? It’s so layered!

Oh my god it's The Alchemy day I have SO many thoughts about this song so I'm gonna try and condense them.

First of all, the song starts and ends with "This happens once every few lifetimes," which is a statement filled to the BRIM with irony, in my view. The entire album up to this point has been concerned with two romances, both of which Taylor states she felt were destined and fated and "storybook" in their own ways. The entirety of TTPD is exploring how these fated, destined, storybook romances could actually crumble, and with it, her faith and belief in the existence of fate and destiny and storybook love.

But THEN... almost at the end of the standard run of the album, Taylor states that she's getting back from recovering from this tragedy - "I'm back / The hospital was a drag / Worst sleep that I ever had". She gets back from the messy process of healing from the events described on the album, and despite everything finds herself falling in love again.

This is why the title is significant, too. Alchemy is the pseudoscience of making a material into something more valuable. And this reflects the emotional process of Taylor falling in love again - she felt like the past two tragedies took the shine off of everything, killed her belief that love could ever work. But then, despite everything, she falls in love again and the normal, even tragic world she lived in before is transformed into something golden.

And then the first line repeats again, to reflect the cyclical nature of what she has experienced. Obviously, "this" doesn't happen once every few lifetimes, it's happened twice before on the album and is happening again in this song. She's falling in love, she's finding something beautiful and fated, and she can't help but find it gorgeous and meaningful, even if she's been shown again and again that she might be proven wrong in the end. And it feels so special that even if it's obvious that it isn't a once-in-a-lifetime experience, it feels that rare and that precious.

In this song, love is the alchemy, the process of turning normalcy into meaning and beauty, and she can't help it.

#I know it’s been sung in Travis’s name but I think the song itself is pretty ambiguous about muse #The alchemy #c #Idk why but the first listen through I got the heebie jeebies about it!#“Where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me” in the context of the rest of the album is Striking!#Like she talks so much about how she has been objectified and it’s fucked her up and then here she says she’s a trophy #whcih on one hand is very Yes Girl!!! You Are A Catch!!! He Lets Her Bejeweled!!#but on the other hand: I Was Hunted Like A Game Animal (more in line with the themes in Clara bow etc)#I’m also thinking about her turning not just mundane things into gold but also deeply painful things

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3d-wifey · 1 month ago

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can i get a short lil sumthin sumthin about remus and his girlfriend being academic weapons, sirius and james thinks they're boring bc they've been doing their work in the library for hours but they're actually cockwarming and seeing who'll crack first heheheh 👀👀👀

"Focus, Lupin"

Pairing: Remus Lupin x girlfriend!reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: well, smut of course! Exhibitionism, possessive Remus, yall are both freaks tbh, cucking? cock warming, riding

A/N: The other marauders have a big fat stinking crush on you but that's neither here nor there until the end of the fic. Sighhh, I go through my marauders mood swings. Your house isn't clear so feel free to pick any of them.

Tags: @yvy1s @innercreationflower

Remus hooks his chin over your shoulder, looking for all the world as if he's just getting into a better position to read his chicken scratch notes, pressing your back even further against his chest. You inhale, clenching around him at the sudden movement. You scoff at his near-inaudible laughter, elbowing him as he chuckles into your neck.

"Quit it." You grumble, quil moving at the speed of light as you furiously write.

"Quit what?" He moves the textbook you're sharing closer, the big hand he places on the page mirrors the one that's settled on your stomach. He spreads his fingers wide like he's stretching them before he drums them along the parchment. You wish you hadn't left your robes in your dorm, at least then you'd have another layer between your skin and Remus's teasing touch.

"You're cheating." You hiss, but that's the most you do to reprimand him. It's your fault you're in this mess anyhow.

Both of you are always the highest scorers in your class. And with the past few exams, you've been getting the same score or beating each other by a point or two. It's bloody frustrating.

You continuously tried to one-up each other in academics, long after you two started dating. He's your rival first, boyfriend second.

At this very moment, before you both sit two half-done papers for your N.E.W.T-level Alchemy class that isn't due for another week, but you get extra house points if you're the first to turn it in.

Which you plan to be, even if half the blood in your brain has traveled down to where you're swollen and soaked. You both sit completely clothed, other than where you're hitched on Remus's cock, knickers pulled to the side.

Of course, the library is empty. It's nine in the afternoon on a Friday. And it was your idea to see whose dedication would overpower their carnal desires.

He laughed you off at first. A soft, dismissive chuckle rumbling from his chest, muffled by the book he barely looked up from. Typical, shaking his head as if you'd said something absurd and that was the beginning and end of it. But you knew him well enough by now to know which buttons to push—and exactly how hard.

"Yeah, right," you sighed, letting your tone drop into exaggerated defeat as you flopped back against his headboard. "Wouldn't be much of a competition anyway."

Remus paused mid-turn of the page. His brows furrowed, eyes flicking to you in sharp suspicion, but you didn't look at him. Not yet. Instead, you stretched out along his bed like a cat, carefully keeping your expression blank as you toyed with the edge of the blanket.

"...And what's that supposed to mean?" His voice was sharp, clipped, but you could hear the curiosity, the irritation. The competitive edge. Exactly what you were counting on.

"Hm? Oh, nothing." You waved a hand vaguely in his direction, settling yourself comfortably against his pillows. You stretched a little more, arching your back like a cat before flopping onto your side. You kept your expression perfectly neutral, but you knew he could feel the smirk simmering beneath the surface. "It's just...well, we both know you'd give in long before me. So there's truthfully no point in even entertaining the idea." You shrugged, all nonchalance, even as you felt your chest flutter at the way his brows drew together. "I'm just agreeing with you, Rem."

His scoff was immediate, sharp and incredulous. You'd earned yourself a full look now, his book lowering just enough to reveal the disbelief etched across his face. “That’s not what I said.”

You shrugged as if it was no concern to you, deliberately looking away like the conversation was already over, knowing full well he wouldn’t let it rest. You flipped onto your stomach, propping your chin on your hands to stare at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Didn’t need to."

You bit your lip to keep from smiling as his book lowered—not abruptly, but slowly, deliberately. One inch, then two—his sharp amber eyes flicking to yours. The forefinger he slipped between the pages made it look like he might still pretend to be reading, but you knew better.

The scar closest to his eye twitched, irritation flickering faintly across his face. Merlin, you always loved how expressive that scar was when he was annoyed. One of his fingers tapped against the book spine resting on his chest, the motion twitchy.

He exhaled through his nose—sharp, like he was trying to keep it together—and finally set the book aside. His movements were precise, controlled, but there’s no hiding the faint flush creeping over his neck or the way the corner of his mouth twitched.

You knew you got him. He tried, and failed, to mask his irritation and it was almost unfair how easy he was to rile up. Almost

He let a long silence settle, the weight of his gaze pressing into you. Finally: “…You taking the piss?”

You let the grin spread across your face this time, sitting up slightly so your chin props on your hands. "M'as serious as the plague, Lupin."

The staring match that followed was something out of a duel, the cogs in his mind clearly spinning. The tension stretched taut between you, thick as smoke, neither of you daring to blink.

His book stayed in his hand for a moment longer, though you saw the exact second he gave up pretending to read. Then, to your satisfaction, he closed his book with an audible thud and set it aside. He shifted, sitting up and leaning forward. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, the muscles in his forearms flexing with the movement, and your stomach twisted—just a smidge.

"Go get your books," he said, his voice low and challenging, sending electricity up your spine. "And meet me in the library."

“Oooh, someone's touchy," you said, walking your fingers up his thigh, muscles tensing under your touch. “Formal battlegrounds now, is it? Bold move, Rem. I thought you liked keeping your humiliations private. But if losing in public gets your rocks off, who am I to deny you?"

His lips twitched—an almost-smile that was gone too fast to catch properly. “I’ll be the one handing out the humiliation, thanks.”

"Stakes?" you asked, cocking your head.

"Loser buys the winner chocolate frogs for a week," he said, already swinging his legs off the bed. Then, after a pause, he glanced over his shoulder, smirking faintly. "Or…whatever else I decide."

You pushed yourself up with a wicked grin that matched his, already moving toward the door. “Alright, but don’t be mad when you’re the one giving in first. I know you can’t resist me for long.”

Behind you, you heard him huff a laugh, though it sounded like he was trying to hide it. “Get your books, trouble. Let’s see how well you actually handle restraint.”

You were confident by the end of this week you'd overdose on chocolate frogs. Remus might be brilliant and disciplined, but he’s not immune to distraction. Especially distraction in the form of his wickedly beautiful girlfriend.

Truthfully, it was daft of you to assume Remus would play fair. You mix two people who are as competitive as they are horny and it leads you here, on your boyfriend's lap, surely dripping onto the wooden bench under you.

He hums as if he's thinking over the definition of cheating and if what he's doing right now counts as it—which it does.

"S'that right?" He mumbles into your neck and you almost reach for your wand, honest, "I don't see any cheating here, love. Just good old fashioned studying, just like you wanted."

He thrusts up, and your hand flies up to cover your mouth. You see his quill moving out of the corner of your eye without the aid of a hand. "Cheater," you pant, but don't move to stop him or even continue writing your essay. You allow yourself to enjoy the slow, steady rock of his hips against yours—only for a moment. Every vein and ridge dragging against your hypersensitive walls.

You go to reach back—for support, for a futile attempt at stopping the way he rocks into you, feeling as inevitable as the ticking of time—with your other hand, but are stopped by the quill in your hand. You're reminded, there and then, that winning over Remus is almost, if not just as satisfactory as a hard won orgasim.

You put quill to ink pot, and then, quill to parchment. Remus curses behind you but doesn't stop. Not with you panting and whining behind gritted teeth. Not with you clenching around him like a Grindylow's spindly fingers, tightening with a merciless grip. He doesn’t stop until the familiar voice of his mates cuts through the fog.

"There you two are. Should've known you'd be held up in here weeks before your assignment is done. On a weekend at that—" Sirius trails off as he and James discover the little nook you and Remus have secluded yourselves too, as well as the...odd position you find yourselves in.

It's not that he's never seen you two be affectionate, especially nearing the full moon as it is, but you in Remus's lap like this, a flustered look on your face, well, he's not a dumbass. Something out of the ordinary is happening here.

James on the other hand is none the wiser, brows furrowing in self righteous disappointment.

"We've been looking for you two everywhere. Party's not that far off, you know the turn out will be lethal even if we lost the match to those snakes." There was a foul that should've been called, but wasn't, a sligh that the refs didn't catch. In traditional Gryffindor fashion, they didn't whine about a rematch or about the unfairness of it, and in typical Slytherin fashion, they didn't either. But they needed you two to help set up certain spells only you two knew because, well, you created them. Definitely not because they liked watching the way their best mate's girl stretched and bent as she set up in the Gryffindor commons.

"We know," Remus says, glancing up at the boys before looking back to one of the open textbooks. "The plan's to party the weekend away, yeah? It's why we're getting the assignment out of the way. Sooner you let us finish this," he's slowly sliding his hands up from your knees to your hips, pushing you down with such strength that your stomach clenches, "sooner we can help."

"It's...it's just an essay, Sirius. We'll be done before the Hufflepuffs start," you almost bite your tongue mid-sentence when Remus ghosts a callused finger over your aching clit, playing it off as a hiccup, "bringing the snacks.

Neither of you say anything more as you have a sneaking suspicion that they're going to catch on, chances of you opening your mouth to speak only for a moan to tumble out are high. Remus is quiet because he hopes they do figure it out, either from the audible wetness of your cunt or your eyes rolling back as he makes you cum.

Remus knows they're in love with you and have been since third and fourth year. He's tempted to invite them a glimpse under the table so they can see how he has you stretched around his cock, squirming and wanton. What better way of making sure they know you're his?

And from the way Sirius looks the two of you over, glances down at the table, and raises his perfectly sculpted brows as James begins to ramble at you, there’s no mistaking that Sirius knows. Of course he does. Sirius always knows. His stormy eyes flick down again—deliberate, calculating—as if he’s debating whether or not to call you out. He hums, low and thoughtful, as if weighing the satisfaction of saying something versus letting the moment play out. Instead, he smirks faintly and leans against a nearby bookcase, letting James’s oblivious chatter fill the space.

Remus holds his gaze, unflinching, daring him to say a word. For a brief, reckless moment, he considers sliding his chair back just enough to let Sirius catch a glimpse of how thoroughly he has you. The thought makes his cock twitch inside you, and from the way Sirius’s smirk curves a fraction higher, it’s almost like he knows that, too.

Remus doesn’t full-on smirk when they lock eyes, but it’s a close thing.

"…Right.” Sirius tilts his head slightly, his sharp grey eyes dragging over the two of you like he’s piecing together a puzzle he’s already solved. His gaze flicks down to the table again—just briefly—and then back up to meet yours. The corner of his mouth twitches, not quite a smirk, but close enough to make your stomach drop. “You know, you two really are awful at being subtle.”

Your heart skips a beat, heat rushing to your face as you open your mouth to protest—except Sirius doesn’t give you the chance. He hums thoughtfully, his gaze flicking to Remus, and then back to you, like he’s enjoying the power of watching you squirm. “But don’t think being pretty gets you out of work,” he adds smoothly, leaning in to knock his knuckle against the table. “You’ve got until ten on the dot before I come back and drag you out of here myself.”

James, oblivious as ever, snorts and waves Sirius off. “Don’t listen to him, he��s just mad because we need you for the setup,” he says, rolling his eyes. He jabs a thumb at Sirius, then gestures toward the door. “I told him you’re probably in here studying, because what else would you two be doing on a Friday night?”

Sirius hums again, a low, knowing sound, his gaze locking with Remus’s in a silent challenge. The corner of his mouth curves, just enough for you to wonder if he’s going to say something more—something that will make it impossible to deny that he knows exactly what’s happening beneath the table.

But instead, he lets out a soft laugh, straightening from the bookcase. “Sure,” he drawls, his voice dripping with amusement. “Studying.” His eyes grow bigger as he says it to emphasis just how little he believes that rubbage excuse.

He casts one last look over the two of you, smirking faintly, before turning to leave, James already rambling on about the next Quidditch match as they disappear into the corridor. Relief floods your chest for all of three seconds—before Remus tilts his hips just so, dragging another whimper from you as his cock presses deeper.

You bite your cheek, barely able to return James's wave goodbye before you're digging your nails into Remus's thighs. The same thighs that are currently spreading yours apart. Your skirt rides up, exposing you to the air and his sly hands.

"This," your hips twitch against his as he traces feather-light fingers over your puffy lips, swollen with need. You bite back a whine, huffing harshly through your nose as those fingers move down where the base of his cock sits snugly in you, tubbing slick where you and he are connected. "This is how you're cheating."

"If you're so much better than me, you should be able to focus, no problem, right?" He has an arm wrapped around your waist again, the other flipping pages.

"Fine." If that's how he wants to play, then you are more than game. You lean forward, elbows on the table as you grind your hips back and forth, barely raising off of him before coming back down with your fluttering warmth squeezing around him. "Focus, Lupin. Or, mh, at least try."

"Shhhit. D-dearest, that's not—" he cuts himself off with a truly shameless moan, both hands gripping your waist. He doesn't stop you, no, wouldn't dream of it. Instead, he helps you balance as you move faster, busy chasing your high more than you're focused on sabotaging Remus. "You, your—Merlin, you're bloody brilliant."

At this point, you don't know what'll come first: you, Remus, or Sirius's wrath.

#3d wifey answers #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #mauraders #marauders x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin smut #poly!marauders x reader #harry potter #sirius black #james potter

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makowo · 1 year ago

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yknow. i wont torture myself with a pure magic run of skyrim. i think i'd rather die than do that

#makotalk #especially with mods that add harder creatures and stuff. i cant be doin this #i may just restart my guy and do like. a two handed thing maybe? and alchemy #Perhaps. low magic run is what im bound for no more fast heal/onehanded for me. shasien is already a perfect beast

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pomefioredove · 3 months ago

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Halloo, can I request hcs of characters's habits or actions they unconsciously do or show that they care for the reader?? Can be platonic or romantic!. Any character(s) is fine! I apologize if you already did a request similar to this one 😅

hallo!!! of course, my pleasure! this is a cute prompt

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ unconscious things they do for you

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, cater, leona, ruggie, rook, vil, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

Riddle lets you get away with things that others can't. is it unfair? oh, yes, completely. but you've already done so much for him and everyone else at NRC, you poor thing, you deserve a break. he doesn't think much of it when you're late or wearing the wrong socks for an unbirthday party

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Cater wants to spend more time alone with you. he's usually not one for such closeness, but he finds himself craving your attention more and more, and having time together, cuddling or gossiping or even just being in the same room, is like heaven

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona starts napping in places he knows you'll find him. that one sunny spot in Savanaclaw, the corner of the botanical gardens where your alchemy class meets, your favorite courtyard... he doesn't mind being bothered when you're the one bothering him <3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ruggie always saves you some of his food. he'll subconsciously put aside piece of chocolate or some of his dandelion stash for you, whatever he has. guys like you need to stick together to survive, after all :)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Rook always has a word of encouragement, a poem, a snack and a hug to give you when you're not feeling well. he can tell when you need him, and he'll be there, smothering you in love, before you even have to ask

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil asks for your opinion before making decisions. what do you think about this color on him? how does this line sound? what about this photoshoot, which set of pictures do you prefer? he cares about what you think more than he'd ever admit

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Malleus waits for you, he always have and he always will. he's the first to notice when you're not where you should be (close to him), and the first to take your hand and make you feel wanted when you've been excluded

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #riddle rosehearts x reader #cater diamond x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #rook hunt x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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wordsarelife · 4 months ago

Text

—the alchemy

pairing: jj maybank x fem!routledge reader

summary: you always had a thing for jj, while you thought he had a thing for kie. you couldn't have been more wrong..

warnings: none i think

notes: i have absolutely no clue how to play poker, so please don't grill me lmao

the water glistened, reflecting the afternoon sun. you dunked your feet inside, hanging from the bridge you were sitting on. it was lightly moving due to the waves beneath it.

you kept your eyes trained on the horizon, but looking at nothing in particular.

jj came running from the shore, sitting down beside you, letting his feet dangle into the water next to yours. "john b is making food"

"what could he possibly be making?" you smiled, clearly knowing that there wasn't much left in the pantry. you got through the day alright, thanks to both of you working, but you didn't buy any extraordinary things to make sure you had enough money to pay everything else.

“we’re having toast,” jj smirked, then paused for dramatic effect. “but we raided heyward’s for tomatoes, and kiara brought guac from her mom. so it’s fancy toast.”

“fancy toast! the ritz could never.” you hugged your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them, but a smile crept up on your lips.

"what are you even doing out here alone?"

"i'm thinking"

"about your dad?" jj asked carefully. "you know I’m here if you need to spill. no judgment. not even if it’s super depressing.”

"thanks, i know" you were thankful that you had such great friends. people that were like family to you and always made sure you were alright, even if they didn't have much to give themselves, apart from kiara.

"are you going to surf the surge tomorrow?" jj changed the topic, interpreting your silence as answer enough.

"heard agatha's gonna be a bitch" you shrugged. "must be nice to lose a few unnecessary limbs"

"don't be ridiculous, i'm a pro" jj took the sunglasses off his head and pushed them on your nose instead. "are you coming or not?"

"i prefer not to" you giggled, slapping his hand away as he tried to readjust the rest of your apperance. "gonna look good for cps"

"they won't even make it out here, agatha will arrive too soon for that"

"well, then i should be thanking her, right?" you looked up to the sky, the sun still breaking through the slowly arriving clouds, but the darkness of them made it evident that it wouldn't take too long for the storm to arrive. "thanks aggy! sorry for calling you a bitch"

"if that isn't nice" jj grinned. "look at you! such a polite lady"

"told you i could behave better than you" you stood up and waited for him to do the same. "i'm pretty sure they just told you to go and get me not to wait out until they had finished the food, right?"

"caught me" jj shrugged. you knew him well enough to guess that he was trying to escape more work than necessary. "but it did take some time to find you. you weren't in the tower john b locked you in"

"oh, maybe i'm not as well behaved as we thought" you shrugged, following him back to the beach. "you need those sunglasses soon?" you liked the red tinted look of them. you had worn them before and you loved that they made you look like a hippie or vanessa hudgens going to coachella in 2014.

“keep ‘em,” jj shrugged, giving you an exaggerated once-over. “you look better in them anyway.”

you raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. “how much did these cost?”

jj spun around, pretending to be offended. “whoa, whoa! don’t insult me like that. i didn’t pay for them.”

you laughed. “you stole these?”

“they were like six dollars, okay? i stole them out of principle.” he wiggled his eyebrows like that somehow made sense.

you shook your head amused. “jj, that’s still stealing.”

“nah, see, i was planning on giving them to you for a while, so really, it was a selfless act. call it proactive gift-giving.”

jj’s face lit up, the trademark smirk in place as you walked side by side back toward the beach. he kicked at the sand a little, glancing over at you every few seconds like he was waiting for you to laugh again.

you could hear the others before you saw them—john b shouting something about the toast burning, and kiara’s voice cutting through with, “how do you even burn toast?!”

“so, what’s the plan after we survive this gourmet meal?” you asked, your tone only half-teasing.

jj rubbed his hands together with a glint in his eyes. “well, after we feast on fancy toast and whatever leftovers kiara’s mom sent, i was thinking… poker.”

“poker? don’t we always lose when we play with pope?”

“yeah, but he’s working today, so we have a chance.” jj wiggled his eyebrows as if this were the best news in the world.

you laughed, shaking your head. “so, your plan is to take all my money after i generously agree to participate in poker?”

jj’s smirk deepened. “well, since you’re wearing those shades, you’re bound to win. you’ve got that poker-face-hippie thing going on.”

you shrugged, pretending to think about it. “true. i could absolutely bluff the hell out of you all.”

he nodded seriously. “exactly. so really, it’s your civic duty to play.”

“civic duty,” you repeated, laughing. “sure, sure.”

"sit down, you two" kiara ancouraged when you walked onto the patio.

"where have you been that long?" john b questioned, looking at you suspiciously. "you're always sneaking around together"

"don't be ridicilous, b" you shook your head. "we were just watching the waves"

kiara and jj exchanged glances you didn’t quite understand. it made your nerves tweak to not know what they were hinting at.

“i bet it was a sight so see” kiara said softly, a smirk on her face.

jj nodded. “as always” he shrugged, his eyes still on her.

you had to try hard not to let your face distort into jealousy. you had had a crush on jj for as long as you could remember. and the two of you were close, but nothing ever really happened with your brothers best friend.

being in love with jj was confusing. most of the time, he treated you just like anyone else, acting completely normal. but then, out of nowhere, he'd start flirting, leaving you unsure of what to think.

even though you tried your best, the crush on the boy always resurfaced when he would flirt with you once more, keeping your hopes up.

the meal continued without anything happening and you found yourselves cleaning the table to play a few rounds of poker like jj had promised.

"looks like you're in a tough spot" he grinned.

kiara had put down her cards, while you were trying hard to keep a straight face, knowing you would probably lose.

you shrugged. "i don't see you putting down anything valuable, maybank"

"ohh" kiara and your brother hollored at the same time.

"well, let's see then" kiara nudged jj's shoulder.

the blonde smirked before he revealed his cards to you, flushing a street. "you've underestimated me, guys"

john b and you sighed simultaneously, accepting defeat as you threw your own cards in the middle. while jj was busy mixing the cards, kiara took a look at her phone.

"i think i better head out" she smiled, standing up from her chair. "my mother's gonna go crazy if i'm late again"

you played a few more rounds after the girl had left, john b and you losing to jj each time. you were sure he had gotten help from pope, knowing that his time would come.

john b threw down his cards after one more uneventful round. "i'm heading to bed" he nodded, pulling his snapback down, before he highfived jj and pressed a kiss to your hair. "don't stay up too late"

"night, b" you smiled as you watched after him.

"one more round?" jj giggled.

"i'm all out" you shrugged, pointing at the pile of money on the table in front of him.

"well, if i lose you can have all of it"

"this sounds almost too good" you muttered. "okay, what if i lose then?"

"you'll take off your shirt" he shrugged.

"jj!" you pushed a hand to your mouth, draining out the scream of outrage that threatened to errupt in the air between you.

"what?" jj smirked, looking up at you with wide blue eyes. "am i making you nervous?"

"not a chance," you shot back, trying to keep your voice steady despite the way your heart was hammering in your chest. jj's smirk widened, the mischievous glint in his eyes only growing as he shuffled the cards one more time.

"alright then," he said, dealing the cards smoothly. "prove it."

you glanced at your hand, trying to keep your expression neutral. jj's eyes flickered up to meet yours, watching you intently, and you couldn't tell if he was bluffing or not.

you took a deep breath and played the first card, trying to focus on the game instead of the way jj was watching you like a hawk.

the next few minutes were tense, each of you placing cards with care. it was almost suffocating.

"you're really dragging this out, you know that?" you muttered, glancing up at him.

jj just grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. "patience, sweetheart. good things come to those who wait," he replied, his voice low and teasing. you rolled your eyes but couldn't help the slight tug at the corners of your mouth.

finally, it came down to the last card. you had one left in your hand, and so did jj. your eyes met, the room silent except for the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. You hesitated for a split second, then threw down your card.

jj's eyes flickered to the table, his face breaking into a triumphant grin. he laid his final card down with a laugh.

"looks like i win," he drawled, his voice smug. your eyes widened as you stared at the cards, disbelief washing over you. how did he keep doing this?

"you've got to be cheating," you grumbled, pushing back from the table. jj laughed, the sound warm, filling the quiet night air around you.

"well, you agreed to do this" he shrugged, like he was completely in the right.

you looked at him without any expression on your face, before you sighed, your fingers dipping down to meet the material of your shirt, as you stood up.

jj's eyes widened at your movement, standing up at the same time. "it was a joke, y/n" he muttered quickly. "you don't have to do anything you don't want to"

you halted in your movement. "if you had won, would you have given me the money, like you promised?"

"of course" jj answered without so much as a thought.

your smile deepend, before your fingers gripped the hem of the shirt, pulling it over you head in a quick motion. revealed was your bikini top. the one jj had seen you in a million times, but still his eyes widened even further.

jj's mouth opened slightly, his usual cocky demeanor vanishing as he stared at you. he remembered seeing you in it before, but this still felt different. maybe it was the intimacy of the dimly lit patio, or the way you stood before him now, your eyes steady and unwavering. you had called his bluff, and he was utterly speechless.

"see?" you said, trying to keep your voice light despite the rapid thudding of your heart. "no big deal. just a bikini, jj."

he swallowed hard, finally snapping out of his daze. "right," he said, his voice cracking slightly. he cleared his throat, his gaze darting away before quickly finding its way back to you. "just a bikini."

you walked around the table, pushing yourself between him and the discarded chair. "this can't really be the reason you're so uneasy"

you tried to read the emotion on his face, but he just looked at you, at a loss for words. you softly pushed your hand to rest against his chest. your eyes widened in surprise. "your heart is racing" you declared with a soft whisper.

"yeah" jj finally found his words. "you're so close"

you looked up at him, surprised at what he was hinting at. "i'm sorry if i'm making you uncomfortable" you tried to step back, but his hand shot out, holding you in place by your elbow.

"jj" you muttered, your voice barely audible. you could feel your heart beat just as fast as his did.

"have i ever told you how beautiful you are?" jj's voice was soft and tender, like he was trying not to disrupt the calmness of the moment.

"no" you sighed, unsure. he came closer, your noses were almost touching. his eyes were ready to close, not far from kissing you. your voice rung out before he could do anything of that sort. "what about kie?"

"what?" jj blinked in surprise, stepping backwards.

"what about kie?" you repeated a little bit louder.

"what about her?" jj laughed, before he saw the confusion in your eyes.

"i thought there was something—“

"between me and kie?" he smiled, shaking his head. "well only that she knew about my crush on you"

"you have a crush on me?"

"i thought it was kinda obvious" he pointed a finger between the both of you. "can i please finally kiss you now, routledge?"

you smiled, your heart fluttering in your chest at his confession. "of course" you watched him step closer once more, before you grinned. "but what about—?"

"—oh would you shut up now?" he pushed his lips against yours, drowning out your giggle as your smile touched his mouth like it was supposed to.

1K notes · View notes

robynlilyblack · 20 days ago

Text

But you’re over here

Fred Weasley x fem! shy! Potter! Reader

Summary: During the final game of the season, a certain redhead couldn’t care less about the trophy

Warnings/tags: swearing, friends to lovers, first kiss, getting together, mutual pining, Hufflepuff reader, potter reader, James being a good dad, Cedric being the best wing and hype man, Jess, Timothy and Joey OCs, marauders being parents

A/n: 4.4k words, ngl the alchemy plays in my head during this kiss scene, apologies for any mistakes I'm a bit ill right now, as always reader can be the bio or adopted older daughter of James and Lily, based on this and this requests ♡

Navigation | Fred Weasley Masterlist

“Oh boy, oh boy!” James claps his hands, rubbing them together in excitement as he, Lily, Remus, and Sirius reach the top of the stands

Lily giggles at her husband's enthusiasm, following him to the front row, while Remus and Sirius brace themselves at the top, catching their breaths after a quite frankly atrocious number of stairs

Today was the big game, not only was it the old rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor, but it was the final, and the first year Harry was serving as captain after Oliver passed the torch to him two years ago. It was safe to say as fun as the Triwizard tournament was the previous year, quidditch was still the marauders and co’s favourite pastime. Hell, the whole school was buzzing

“Were they always that high?” Sirius whispers, rubbing his chest “Fuck me” he breathes heavily

“I think we’re just old now my love” Remus chuckles, after all these years he still can’t help but wind up his husband just a little bit

Sirius makes a face “Fuck you! I’m not old…you’re old!” he childishly argues, wearing a grumpy pout that twitches everyone once and again, revealing the smile beneath

“And when is your birthday?”

Sirius’ mouth opens to reply but alas the man has nothing and is caught looking like a fish, though he’s a very cute fish in Remus’ mind

“We might be old…but you’re still as pretty as you were last time we were up here” Remus compliments, leaning down to peck Sirius’ tinting cheeks “Pretty boy” he whispers one last blow before pushing off the beam and joining his friends leaving Sirius flustered

“Pads? You comin?” James calls out, head shooting over “Ohhhh” James barks a knowing laugh, whispering something to Remus and patting his back as he sits down

Sirius can’t help but let out a small smile as they turn away “He thinks I’m pretty” he mutters all giddy to himself before joining his friends, taking a seat between Remus and James, with Lily on James’ other side

“See! I told you we were smart coming early, it’s already beginning to fill up” Lily points out, smiling to herself as she shrugs off her jacket, grabbing the others as well, before laying them on the seats behind them to save room for when the McKinnon’s made their fashionably late appearance

James smiles, hand finding the top of Lily's head “That we were, hun” he agrees, patting her head and soaking up her proud little smile as she smooths out the rest of the coats

“Who are you looking for?” Remus asks, pulling James’ attention back to find Sirius squinting off into the distance

“Our goddaughter, I haven’t seen her in ages” Sirius pouts, squinting harder

“You saw her at Easter break” James chuckles

“Oh yeah” Sirius nods, remembering “Still, I miss her” he confesses, warming the men's hearts

Sirius and Remus decided against children, not that they didn’t want them per se, more they couldn’t confirm the child's safety with Remus’ furry little problem. As such, they filled that hole with you and Harry. Sirius took an extra shine to you though, maybe it was your shy yet cheeky nature that reminded him of Remus, or maybe it’s the little bit of himself he saw in you, watching you get sorted into Hufflepuff when everyone else in your big, wonderfully weird family was Gryffindor. Whatever it was, though today was Harry’s day, he still had to make sure you were alright

“Do you want your glasses?” Remus offers, sighing as he watches his husbands sorry display and reaches for his bag

Sirius swats his hand away “I don’t need glasses moony, I’m fine. It’s just the wind, it’s blowing stuff in my eyes” he gestures around his face, scrunching his nose before attempting to subtly squint again

Remus’ eyes meet James’, shaking his head as he mouths ‘why can’t he admit defeat?’

James smirks, shrugging as he turns away, now interested in where you were, as is Lily after overhearing the debacle. The four searched for you as the student body make their way to the stands. Glancing around Remus’ spots a wild Weasley, smiling as he watches Ron attempt to hold back his blushes as Hermione fixes the red paint on his cheeks. Lily spots Neville, Ginny and Luna in another stand wearing their handmade lion mains. Sirius spots well…nothing, but your father on the other hand is the one to finally find you.

He watches as you enter the stand diagonal to them with Cedric, Jess and two other boys he doesn’t quite recognise but based on their green scarfs must be Timothy and Joey, which would be two out of the four very few Slytherins in this world he accepted were good, the others being his best friends’ brother and the one and only Dorcas Meadows

“Found her” he points with joy “There she is, ain’t our little fawn beautiful” he shines, causing all their eyes to fall on you as you all worm your way to the front of your own stand

“It’s funny seeing them in red and gold” Remus notes, an amused look as he observes yours, Cedric, and Jess’s Gryffindor scarves, most likely stolen from your brother and his friends…or perhaps secretly gifted from one particular Weasley

Lily nods, but her head tilts to the side as your head taps the taller of the other boy's shoulders “They seem close, which one is he again, Tim or Joe?” she ponders trying to remember

“Tim, she said he was tall in the letters” James confirms “They aren’t together” he says with confidence

“And how would you know that Captain Oblivious?” Remus’ laughs, eyeing his friend but then his gaze drifts to peak at his husband, who's been unusually quiet, realising he’s still very much struggling to see you

Remus slowly collects the glasses from his bag again and holds them up in offering

“Dammit” Sirius sighs accepting the truth and putting them on, looking grumpy until his eyes widen, like he’s seeing a brand-new world

“Better love?” Remus teases while pointing you out again

“Shut up moo…aww there she is, beautiful as ever” he adjusts them smiling “Wait…whoa” he looks at James doing a double take as everything is now in high definition “You’ve aged so well” he notes

James’ smirks “Why thank you, I steal Lily’s muggles products” he admits unapologetically, not that it’s much of a surprise to the girl next to him who just rolls her eyes, accepting the fact she now buys two of every product just for him

“It’s the one with lighter hair, not Cedric, the taller one” Remus points out to Sirius

“Oh…” Sirius eyes the boy, judging “...nah”

“What do you mean nah?” everyone jumps a little at first turning around to see Marlene, Dorcas and the cutest little lion there had ever been joining them “Holy shi… sugar those specks are something” Marlene laughs, catching herself before glancing at her wife, mouthing an apology while their daughter looks up at them confused

“Suu’gar” the little cub repeats before pointing at Sirius “Specky!” she says excitedly “Unkie Jams t‘win” she claps, pointing between James and Sirius before jumping and clapping again all happy with herself

Sirius’ quickly pulls the glasses off, cheeks heating while the others struggle to hold in their giggles

“I don’t need them” he looks straight at Marlene, trying his best to be convincing

She just gives him a ‘really’ look in return before smiling softly

Sirius half chuckles, half sighs as he admits defeat, flashing the women a genuine smile “It’s good to see you Marls, you too Dorca darlin” he then looks down at little Lacy “Hello little cub” he coos

“Rwah!” Lacy holds up her hands in a claw motion, doing her best lion impression

It was well known the Marauders had one brain cell between them, but when that cell fired it was magical, all including her mothers and godmother pretended she was the most fearsome thing they’d ever beheld, even a couple other parents who had taken seats little ways down joined in. After some pleas and chocolate offered to calm the beast, the group settled in again, catching up as they waited for the game to start.

You rocked on your feet, eyes continually flicking to the players entrance in anticipation

“You good sunshine?” you feel a soft pat to the top of your head, looking up you’re greeted with Timothy's soft smile, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he checked in, worried the ruckus and busyness of the stand was a bit overwhelming for you

You gently tap your head into his shoulder, nodding “I’m good…just excited” you confess with warm cheeks as your nose is flooded with the scent of your scarf again

“Ahhhh” he elongates, giving you and then the scarf a look “Y/n and Freddie sitting in a tree” he whisper sings

Your eyes widen before you attempt a scowl that looks more like a puppy pouting “Shut up” you chide, fixing the scarf a little before looking away, hoping Cedric, Jess and Joey were having a more in depth conversion but instead you find them grinning “Sugar” you press your lips into a downturned smile

They all looked at each other before singing in unison

“K…i…s…s…i…n…g!”

Despite your cheeks positively flaming around the second ‘s’, you can help but break into a smile. Your friends knew about your little crush on the Weasley boy from afar. Despite your brother’s closeness with the family you didn’t have such ties, you adored Ginny on the few occasions she had visited, along with Ron and Hermione, but as for the rest of the clan your paths rarely crossed. You were meant to spend the summer with them as your families decided to holiday together, but when Cedric won the Triwizard tournament that changed, and instead, he took you and your friends traveling with the prize money

Yours paths finally crossed at the beginning of the school year, when Sprout created a seating pattern allowing everyone to get familiar with their randomised Herbology partner before the end of year assignment. You were nervous at first, as you were sure the professor was when she pulled out your names. Putting the quietest person in Hogwarts with the loudest person seemed like it would either be the worst pairing she had ever seen or the most genius

To her good fortune…and ego, it was the latter. It was surprising to see the king of mischief actually try with his assignments, but most chalked it up to the fact that while you were quiet, you were well-loved by your year, you held no prejudices, helped people with their assignments when the asked you, and was just in general sweet to everyone, to the point even the meanest Slytherins were a little soft on you. Therefore, most assumed Fred couldn’t bear to let you down either, and while that was true at first, a second reason soon bloomed for the boy

It bloomed for you as well, you slowly opened up to him each class, topics drifting to something deeper, and by the time Christmas rolled around you both were close friends. So close in fact you began inviting him to your friend’s secret hideaway by black lake, at first to study, but then to hang out both with and without your other friends. It was funny at first, with Cedric and Jess being rivals in quidditch and Timothy and Joey's Slytherin status, but Fred warmed to them, gaining their trust and, not that they told either of you, their blessing

“I hate you all” you pout, falling into Cedric’s side hug as you shake your head

“Nah” Timothy joins from the other side

“You love us” Jess chimes in, beaming at you

“Not as much as she loves him though” Joey adds cheekily, nodding towards the pitch, it seems none of you had noticed the crowds stir for the players appearances during your teasing session

Cedric and Timothy quickly retract their grasp, smiling at one another as you lunge adorably forward to see. Your friends soon join you, all cheering, while you find Fred in the small mass of people, admiring him as he laughs with the others. After a few moments, the team is finished talking, beginning to take flight and get into position. Once there, you watch as Fred’s eyes begin to scan the crowd, heart thumping as his gaze slowly draws closer, skipping a beat when they fall on you, and damn near stopping as he doubles back, face lifting

You see, a few weeks ago you had met Fred to check over your final herbology assignment, which meant a late-night picnic waiting to see if your flower would bloom under the full moon. While chatting, the topic of today's game came up. Of course, now that Hufflepuff were out for the count, he teased you with who you would be supporting, his teasing backfired however when, without missing a beat, said you would be supporting whatever team he was playing in.

After his slight fluster, which, to this day is one of your proudest achievements, conversation returned to normal, you figured he’s forgotten about it until a first year found you this morning holding a small bundle of Gryffindor scarves, one of which had a red ribbon around it with a note for you

You bring your hands up, hugging the scarf as your eyes meet, causing the biggest smile to take over his face. It was times like this you truly believed your crush was requited, and little did you know a certain redhead was thinking the same thing

“Be brave and go for it” Cedric whispers some encouragement

He’s right, you think, Now or never

As you mouth him ‘Good luck’, you add a little extra to it, blowing him a kiss

His eyes widen in a pleasant shock, melting into a mix of joy and pride as he pretends to catch it, winking at you before kissing his balled up fist before returning his gaze to the field just before the starting whistle blows

“Way to go gal” Jess cheers, reaching over to give your arm a soft squeeze

“Aww the grew up so fast don’t they” Timothy wipes an imaginary tear from his eye while Cedric and Jess both match his energy, taking out handkerchiefs and pretending to be forlorn mothers, with Joey doing the same but with an imaginary tissue

You giggle at them, and while you would usually try to come up with some sort of witty answer, you instead break into a smile “He likes me” you say simply, swaying side to side

“If he didn’t, he’d be an idiot love” Cedric gives you a side hug while the rest of your friends’ smile, happy for you “Now let’s what your man kick snake butt”

“Hey-” Joey and Tim begin to object together but then shrug

“Oh, who are we kiddin” Timothy laughs, taking off his green scarf and pulling out a red and gold one as does Joey “Pusey’s an arsehole and I want a chance to be a bridesman at your wedding someday”

“Bridesman?” you giggle, heartwarming at the idea of you and Fred getting married someday

“Yip, Ceds already called man of honour”

The match was a whirlwind of emotion, the kind of game that left everyone on the edge of their seats. Gryffindor and Slytherin were neck and neck at every turn, every goal answered by another, and it was clear to everyone that this match would come down who would catch the snitch first

“Holy shit, this is intense!” James exclaims, practically bouncing in his seat “Merlin, how the hell did you guys watch me and Marls do this back in the day?”

“Jamie…language!” Lily scolds with a giggle, lips quirking up in amusement as she gives Dorcas a please forgive us look

“Oh, don’t worry, Lacey can’t hear a thing thanks to these” Dorcas it waves off, gesturing to Lacey’s adorable, enchanted earmuffs “Watch this” she says leaning over the little girl perched on her lap “You want some ice cream, bubs? What about a unicorn?”

Lacey doesn’t react at all, instead she stays focused on mimicking her other mothers’ gestures and waves towards the pitch

“Those are…” Lily starts but is promptly cut off

“What the hell was that!” Marlene huffs, throwing up her hands as the crowds roar once more, a mix of cheers and groans as the Slytherins risky manoeuvre pays off leading to another goal “Fucking Pusey again!”

“Did you get the earmuffs for the crowd or for Marls?” Remus whispers to Dorcas, who struggles to hold back a smile

“Oi! Gingers! Stay in formation! Godric, what are you doing?!” Marlene shouts again, shaking her head as Fred and George narrowly avoid colliding whilst going for the same bludger

“No comment” Dorcas replies with a grin before planting a kiss on Lacey’s cheek

The match grows increasingly heated after Harry lets the snitch slip through his grasp, igniting a fire under Slytherins asses causing their play to get even more aggressive

“This game is insane!” Cedric grips the railing so tightly his knuckles turn white

“Come on, Freddie!” you yell, unable to stop yourself as he whizzes by

You watch him turn ever so slightly, catching your voice over the roar before he dives back into the action, pulling off a spectacular move that has more than one person flushing

“Offt…your man’s a beast” Timothy mutters as Fred swoops in to deflect a bludger, shirt riding up a little as he does “What? I can admire” his cheeks tint as he sees all of your raised eyebrows

“Don’t worry” you say with a laugh, “He’ll never admit it, but he has a little guy crush on you too”

“Really?”

“Really” you confirm, giggling

“Did you see that?!” Sirius exclaims, pointing towards Fred after he executes a spectacular mid-air spin to block the Bludger aimed at Angelina “Can’t deny the boys got style!”

“Sure does” James agrees but then his expression sinks to a smug one as he adjusts his glasses “Almost as cool as some of the moves we pulled off ay Marls?” he tries to get her attention but is gifted a passive ‘uh huh’ instead

“Oh, please” Remus argues, chuckling “Are we forgetting in our final year when you tried to do a spin like that and your glasses came flying clean off?”

“What?!” Lily, Sirius, and Dorcas all turned to him in unison

“Moony!” James protests before his face slowly sinks as if awaiting his impending doom

“Wait…” Marlene turns slowly, looking menacingly down at James “You’re telling me. I almost lost my final match as captain because of your speckyless ass?”

James hesitates, his ears turning near crimson as he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck “…no comment”

With one final push, the final whistle blows, and the crowd erupts into cheers. You and your friends join in, your eyes look over towards Fred, who’s the first to get to Harry, pulling him into the biggest bear hug. The sight makes your heart warm, but your admiration is cut short as your friends practically pick you up, ushering you to move

“What’s happening” you ask confused

“Come on, we gotta get down their sunshine” Timothy insists, shooing you along with Cedric, Jess and Joey “You’ve got a ginger to congratulate”

Over on the other stands your family celebrates. Everyone’s on their feet, except Lacey who is now glued to Marlene’s hip as they cheer

“Yesssss!” James roars, pulling Lily into a celebratory hug…and subsequent snog

“That’s my godson!” Sirius bellows, fist pumping the air before looking to hug James then realises “Oh…well if that’s what we’re doing, come here moons!” he hithers towards Remus, arms outstretched

Remus laughs softly before indulging his husband, pulling him in for a kiss before dramatically dipping him

Meanwhile Marlene and little Lacey remain oblivious to the romance in the air, as she was too busy yelling so hard her voice will be lost come tomorrow “THAT’S MY LIONS!”

Dorcas just chuckles at the scene, pulling out Lilys camera and snapping a shot of them all (A/n: art of this bit in the future?)

As their celebrations calm down, they notice the teams beginning to land and everyone else begin to make their way down to join them

“This takes me back” Remus lets out a small laugh watching the red and gold scarfs fly around

Nostalgia fills the air as the others join him, gazing down

“Man…that used to be us” James remarks, letting out a breathy laugh before glancing over at Marlene

She nods, a happy yet bittersweet smile on her face “Yeah…good times” she reminisces before looking down at Lacey “Times are still pretty good…maybe better” she confesses watching her little cub cheer

Dorcas joins her side, arm wrapping around both Marlene and Lacy as their foreheads meet

“I think we should give them their moment” Lily suggests “We have time to embarrass them later” she giggles

The group hums in agreement. As their stand empties, they begin pointing out things only they are privy to from their vantage point. Like Nevilles and Lunas intertwined hands as they weave through the crowd with Ginny, Lee sprinting to hug George, the Slytherin team sulks, or even Snape begrudgingly handing a couple of gallons to McGonagall. None of them, however, have managed to spot you or your friends yet.

“I hope y/ns alright in the crowds” James says softly next to Lily

“As long as she’s with her friends I have no doubt shell be alright” she hums, giving your fathers arm a squeeze

“Oh, there she is…” Sirius points you out before chuckling to himself “…maybe being your twin ain’t so bad” he jokes, wiggling his glasses

James laughs, wrapping an arm around Sirius as everyone turns their attention back towards you

Down on the pitch, it’s a flurry of red and gold, so you hold back at the edge where it was quieter, encouraging your friends to head into the chaos and enjoy it. Jess, Joey and Timothy promise to be right back, while Cedric spots Cho in the crowd little ways from yourself and joins her, being careful not to drift too far from you

You beam as you take a couple of steps back, watching Harry get lifted up by Ron and Neville. Much like your parents and family above, you want Harry and Fred to have their moment in the spotlight. There would be more than enough time to talk to them after

Unbeknownst to you, one of that duo was already looking for you. Fred’s eyes scan the chaos for your figure, but finds a familiar blonde in the crowd first, and he smiles watching him kiss Cho’s cheek. Cedric feels the eyes on them, looking up and noticing Fred’s searching expression. He smiles, giving a knowing nod towards you, as does Cho who’s clearly been filled in on the situation.

Fred’s eyes follow the direction and there you are, standing apart from the rest, your gaze locked on Harry. Taking a deep breath, he hypes himself up, realising in that moment you aren’t just wearing his scarf, but the jumper he gave you to keep warm a few weeks ago as well. That along with the kiss you blew him earlier, are all the signs he needed to finally make a move

“Oi, Freddie” George calls as he moves away from the rest of the team “Where ya going?” George tries again but to no avail, Fred’s already gone, pushing through the crowd, using his broom to help manage the masses

As he breaks free, you do a double take, and he finds himself smiling as your confused expression melts into hope and joy

“You’re supposed to be over there” you tell him, taking a few steps forward as he closes the gap

“But you’re over here” he replies simply before leaning closer, eyes searching yours for permission

You bite your lip, giving him a nod, to which his own smile grows and his broom is abandoned as his larger hands come up to cradle your cheeks guiding them up towards his lips as they crash into your own. You clutch the front of his sweater, pulling him closer but Fred being the showman he is had other ideas. His hands drop down, snaking around your hips before he dips you back. You squeal at first, then laugh softly with him before your lips reconnect. After that the rest of the world fades away. The cheers and buzz around you becoming a distant hum, neither of you reacting to your friends’ cheers nor the flash of Jess’ camera

Your friends aren’t the only spectators of course…

“Wait…” Marlene points towards you and Fred “…is he about to…oh!” her mouth drops open, gently covering Lacey’s eyes while Dorcas smiles in a happy shock beside her

Remus, Sirius, Lily are next to react, eyes widening, before breaking into smiles. Remus and Sirius take a moment longer, clearly doing the ‘does he deserve her’ math in their heads first

“That’s my girl” Lilys hands come up to face, overjoyed, she had an inkling you were a little love struck from your letters, she just didn’t know with who until now

“He’s alright” Sirius begrudgingly admits while Remus nods in agreement

Their smiles and shock soon melt into anticipation as they all slowly turn towards James, who had been a bit too quiet considering the situation. But when they see him, he is…beaming?

Turns out Lily wasn’t the only one with an incline, in fact, James being the girl dad he was, has known about every crush you’ve ever had, your one on Fred being no different. Safe to say, he was ecstatic

“Yes!” he cheers “Oh the dips a nice touch, very classy” he nods in approval before looking over at the others “What?” he takes in their shocked faces

“Prongs?” Remus eyes him “You realise that’s y/n, right?” he feels the need to check

“Yeah” James shrugs before his mouth makes an ‘oh’ shape, his reply sending them into fits of laughter “I’m supposed to be mad right now, aren’t I?”

Thank you for reading ♡

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