#now i need to get SERIOUS about fic writing! i’m fancy now i got a masterlist and everything i need to fill that bitch UP

[gothsuguru]

omfg thank god that’s done okay GOODNIGHT 💤

[concreteangel92]

Do you write angst? Could you write something? You decide 😊

The One Who Never Was

Noah Sebastian x female reader

Warnings: Noah being a complete and utter fuck boy, talks of sex but nothing detailed, breakups, playing with someone’s feelings, gaslighting, love bombing, mental and emotional abuse, depression, co-dependency, unhealthy relationships, fwb, situationship, no happy ending in this story, drinking, self destructive behaviour, let me know if I’ve missed something!

Noah is not a nice person in this fic, if that is going to bother you then please don’t read. I did also picture long haired Noah when I was writing this.

I hope you all enjoy (if that’s the right word for a story like this ahaha) and I’m hoping to get back into my writing this week as I’m not back at work until Saturday (if I’m well enough) and this is the first time in about 6 weeks that I’ve been able to rest and do nothing so I’ll try and be productive with it

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @Ima1986 (never lets me tag you properly for some reason?)

“Hey fancy meeting up today? Feels like it’s been ages”

You nervously sat there waiting for Noah’s response, in your mind already knowing the answer.

You and Noah had been in this ‘situationship’ for a year now, you’d started off as just friends and then one night, it had all changed.

You’d not long been out of a bad relationship when Noah first text you and asked if you wanted to hang out, you knew what he wanted and at first you thought it was a good idea, help you move on from the last dickhead that you’d been with.

“Best way to get over a man is to get under one”

So you went.

After that night, Noah then wanted to date you, he’d asked to take you out for a meal but you’d politely declined as you wanted to stay single longer so you could heal but you spoke about being friends with benefits with him instead, something he was completely up for. Looking back, you had no idea of everything that was about to happen.

•••••

You were sitting on Noah’s sofa, a film was on in the background and Noah was cooking you both dinner.

“What do you think of this?”

Noah had walked back into the living room with his hand under a spoon, you wrapped your lips around it to taste his home made sauce for the chicken he was cooking.

“Oh my god, that’s amazing! Since when did you cook?”

He gave you a big smile and a cheeky wink as he replied “I’ve always loved cooking, it’s even better when I have someone to cook for”

You’d both be curled up on the sofa, eating his amazing food before you’d spend the rest of the night together in his bed.

Noah had this power of making you blush with every word he said, he always made you feel like you were the only woman in the world.

“You’re like no woman I’ve ever been with”

He’d text you first always, told you how he felt about you and that you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“Oh shut up!”

“I’m serious, I don’t know how I’ve got so lucky to be with someone as gorgeous as you”

The fact he’d accepted the friends with benefits over an actual date made you feel he would wait for you, that he completely understood that you needed time.

And let’s talk about the sex. The sex was like nothing you’d ever experienced before, he was such a pleasure dom, making sure you were completely satisfied again and again and again.

No man has ever made you feel the things that he did, he was willing to do everything with you.

“Whatever you want to to try, I’m down for it, even the weird shit”

“Weird shit? 😂”

“Any kinks you might not have tried because others think they are weird, I’ll do it all for you”

Noah always held you until you feel asleep, you fighting it, not wanting the night to end.

“Shhh, I’m here”

His fingers would gently caress your cheek while your eyes became heavy, feeling so warm and content in his arms

You’d wish you had longer, knowing that by morning, you’d both be going about your day and then never knowing when you’d see him again due to your schedules.

At some point, during the long into night deep chats, the dinner dates, the small details that Noah always remembered and done, you fell for him.

••••••

“Sorry I can’t today, busy in the studio”

That was it, it was so cold and blunt, there was no warmth in his messages anymore. Not that your heart allowed you to fully see it.

You felt the tears prick at the corner of your eyes as your heart became heavy and you felt the sinking feeling in your gut.

All of your friends have told you to leave him, that he’s making his feelings clear but every time you have tried to pull away, Noah always had the right words to say or a good excuse for his actions.

So you stayed.

And here you were, a shell of the person you used to be, when you first started this with Noah, you had such a spark in your eyes and you felt so happy.

Now, happiness with him was like a drug, he was like a drug. You knew he was bad for you, you knew he was killing you. But you couldn’t stop.

You stared at the screen, almost like your will alone could change the words. You scrolled up and saw it was much the same.

“Hey you about today?” “Sorry I’m working today”

“Fancy some dinner later?” “Maybe. I’ll text you in a bit”

Unless he messaged you…

“Hey baby, you free today? I miss you”

“Yeah I’m free, what do you fancy?”

“You 😏”

“Cheeky haha no seriously, what do you want to do?”

“Come to mine and hang out?”

You knew every time that it would lead to sex, you prayed it would, so you never said no to him.

You convinced yourself that he loved you as much as you loved him. Over the last year, you’d never felt anything like it before.

The only way you could describe it was that whenever you were with him, your soul felt at home. It didn’t matter what you were doing, you could be doing nothing and you were so contented to be around him.

You were always laughing together, you fitted together physically and just overall seemed like each other’s perfect partner.

You saw him for who he was, not this big rock star. You knew the rumours about him but you saw another side to him, a side he wouldn’t let many see. You knew he loved you deep down. Noah just struggled to show it because of his past.

You knew you shouldn’t make excuses for him, what’s the age old saying?

If a man truly wants to be with you then they won’t let a single thing come in between you.

And Noah gave you excuses most of the time, would take hours to reply and then blame it on work. You knew that wasn’t always true but you just accepted the behaviour because you’d fallen in love with him.

You’d fallen in love with the man who made you laugh until your belly hurt, who looked at you like you were the only other person in existence. Noah had recently said that he loved you back for the first time.

••••••

2 weeks ago, the last time you saw him in person.

You’d gone out for a few drinks with your friends and knew Noah was out already so you gave him the invite, not actually expecting him to show up in all honesty.

So when you arrived at the bar so see Noah stood there with your favourite drink next to his, your heart swelled within your chest.

The smile he gave you matched your own, his hug was so warm and for a moment, you felt like the whole world had stopped.

You sat down with your friends, both next to each other and clearly not paying attention to anything else around you other than each other.

In the words that your friend text you later….“A bomb could have gone off in that bar and neither of you two would have known, you couldn’t take your eyes off each other”

You both laughed and chatted all night, it only when you were outside getting some air that you decided to be honest.

“I love you Noah, I know you won’t say it back because you’re scared but I love you”

Noah stood and stared at you for a moment before he smiled and brushed your hair behind your ear.

“I love you too, always have”

The feeling in that moment was indescribable, the man you truly believed you were meant to be with had finally said those words back. He had finally admitted his true feelings.

The rest of the night you felt like you were walking on a cloud, you knew now that everything was going to be ok. All the heartache and loneliness before Noah had lead you up to this moment. To know it was all worth it.

You couldn’t stop smiling all night, even after he’d said that he needed to go, you gave him a big kiss and a hug and said that you couldn’t wait to see him again and finally start dating properly and have a relationship.

For Noah to ghost for you about a week, every message you sent was left unread, all the phone calls ignored.

Every time you felt your heart shatter, how could he do this? Surely not after he’d admitted he loved you? Who can do that?

Your friends were adamant that he was playing you and that you needed to block him.

You sat and cried your heart out, you drank your pain away and tried to find the answers at the bottom of a bottle, you’d do anything to numb the pain that you were feeling.

The feeling of having your whole future ripped away after just being given to you was soul destroying. You have hardly slept, hardly eaten. The weight was falling off your body as the days had turned into weeks.

It was only a few days ago that you’d finally had a response from him.

“Sorry been so busy with work, hope you’re ok”

But when you tried to arrange to see him, you got all the excuses once again. The never ending story of this game of cat and mouse.

You’d even confronted him about his behaviour.

“How could you tell me that you loved me to then ghost me? Who does that?”

“I wasn’t lying to you, I honestly have been busy, I can’t just drop everything for you”

You knew it was wrong, but you still wanted him, you craved him.

••••••

Sipping on the vodka in your glass was the only comfort for you at this moment. You’d text your best friend but of course just had the same old reply.

“Just block him, he’s made his feelings clear, he’s making a complete fool out of you”

You decided enough was enough, you’d walk over to his and see him in person, you couldn’t take this uncertainty anymore.

Walking to Noah’s was almost like a dream, but not the good kind, the feeling of dread was making you feel sick with every step, especially by the time you were outside his front door.

Taking a deep breath, you rung the doorbell, every nerve in your body on edge in preparation for the confrontation you knew was coming.

After a moment, you heard the sound of footsteps before the door swung open to reveal Noah’s tall frame.

“What are you doing here?”

You were sure you looked awful, dark circles around your puffy eyes, hair a mess.

“I needed to speak to you, can I please come in?”

Noah looked annoyed but stepped aside so you could enter.

“I haven’t got long, I’m going out soon”

Your chest became tighter at his words, the excuses already starting.

“Then just be honest with me Noah. What the fuck am I to you?”

He looked slightly shocked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You’re my friend y/n, I care a lot for you, you know that”

You couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.

“Do I? You told me you loved me and then ghosted me! No one is this fucking busy Noah! I’m tired of the games, I want you to be honest with me!”

The tears had already started, leaving a warm trail down your cheeks as you spoke.

Noah seemed to look anywhere but you, not able to meet your eyes as he answered.

“We have already been through this, I’ve just been busy”

“So you keep saying. May I remind you Noah that you originally chased me! You were the one who wanted to date, you were the one texting me and doing everything you could to make me fall for you! And now what? You just can’t be bothered anymore and don’t have the balls to tell me? You scared you’ll lose your booty call if you do?”

The last year was finally catching up with you, all the games and played feelings were coming to the surface, something you could clearly see was bothering Noah.

“Or are you too scared to actually commit because you’re frightened of getting hurt?”

“Are you for real? I’m not scared of anything!”

“Then why?!”

Noah throw his hands up in frustration and paced around.

“Because I don’t want to be with you! It’s that simple! You’re not the only girl I can have or have had! You’re a joke, you’re treating me like I’m your fucking boyfriend and I’m not, we were never dating!”

You stood in shock, how could he say that, although you never had an actual label, you’d been a couple in every way but the title and he knew that, he even wanted the two of you to be ‘exclusive to each other’.

But now it was starting to make sense, why he wouldn’t take it further.

“So you made me feel like I was the only woman for you, why? You told me that you loved me, said you wanted to be with me. Fucking hell, we even sat and told each other about all the dark shit in our pasts! You once said to me that I was the one person you never wanted to hurt!”

Noah’s face had become hard, a sign that he was shutting down from the conversation.

“And I didn’t. I’m not your boyfriend, I never have been and never will be. You’re making this all up in your head and you’re acting crazy. I’d like you to leave right now”

Your body was shaking and the tears wouldn’t stop falling as you stared at him. Your voice came out as barely a whisper.

“Where’s my Noah gone? My Noah would never have done any of this?”

Instead of answering, Noah simply opened the door, void of all emotion on his face. You stood in complete disbelief before you admitted defeat, your pride had already been shattered and you couldn’t take anymore.

You ran out of the door and kept running down his driveway. You collapsed at the corner of his road, the tears never stopping as your crying pulled your breath from your lungs.

You pulled out your phone and found Noah’s chat, the sinking feeling you had was confirmed when you’d tried to call but realised you’d been blocked.

You couldn’t wrap your head around it, your Noah, the man who made you feel so special and loved could never do this. Where was he?

•••••

The days turned into weeks, turned into months and the heartache never stopped.

Noah had ripped out your heart and broken you as a person. Your friend’s were always concerned for your mental state as you tried to navigate a life without him without any closure.

You didn’t see him again, unless it was online, but you knew he was just fine. Every time you saw his photo, he looked so happy and care free, he was living his dream, the band was starting to go viral and you knew this was only the beginning.

The rumours of who he was dating of course started to spread, each one like a knife to your heart.

You never got the closure your mind needed, you had to move on with no answers. Trying to piece yourself back together.

It was the hardest break up you’d ever gone through, and although others may say “well you weren’t actually together”

That was worse, he was the man you had completely fallen in love with, who never truly loved you back but made you feel like he did.

Noah was the one who never was.

[msmargarita]

✨🤓Johnathon/🕳️ Spot Headcanons✨

These are some headcanons I wrote for my two fics:

i'm not going to turn into a cosmic anomaly and leave you forever

and

i'm really serious this time, baby

It has !!spoilers!! for both of those fics!

It's basically an AU unless I somehow foresaw the future and guessed what happens in BTSV!

Beware the keep reading button. This is HUGE.

🤓 Johnathon HCs!

HE IS A GEMINI. Like come on. Talks a lot, nerdy, silly guy. He is a canonically silly guy! In his first fight with Miles he pretends to have hurt his nose (he doesn’t have one) to trick him. So silly! I would bet there's Capricorn somewhere in there too. And Pisces. I’ll make this man’s whole birth chart if you dare me. Just dare me. I’m insane.

Jason Schwartzman used to be in a band in the 00s. I think it would be cool if Johnathon also had some sort of interest in music. I think he would have tried to learn guitar in college but only got a few chords in before life got too chaotic and every now and then he thinks of picking it back up. 

He is also one of those guys who fanboys over old ass music, especially from the 60s and 70s. Loves Jazz, Funk and Prog Rock. Look at this man and tell me he is not a prog rock guy. He is a nerd, he might even be *shudders* a math rock guy. I also think he would have one completely random favorite artist that has nothing to do with the things listed above, like, idk Lizzo. Or Princess Nokia. He just looks like the type.

I think everyone agrees Johnathon is at least in his thirties, but I put him down as thirty-three in the end. I did that because Olivia is thirty-five tops in ITSV (according to Peter) and since he was her subordinate it makes sense that he would be just a little bit younger than her. 

“But hey! That's too young to get a PhD!” you might say, but I think Johnny is an overachiever. I think he was one of those super genius kids that got in early in college and lived for academia. A teacher's pet even.

He is a workaholic, so when he quits his job he gets really lost and doesn't know what to do with himself. He might have a new job soon doing what he loves, so you’re going to need to be on his ass so he doesn’t fall back into his old habit of overworking. 

I like to think that Miles would get an internship under Johnathon a few years in the future and they would learn a lot together. Jonathan would probably take a week to figure out he is Spider-Man and would cover for him when the boy needs to disappear. This actually sounds like a fun drabble to write about.

Johnathon may be a genius, but like he said, he is not too familiar with relationships. I think he might've had one or two in the past, but everything slowed down when he started working at Alchemax. “I’ve been told” is referring to those past relationships, in which he was probably told that he works too much and never has time to spend with his partners. He’s not been with anyone for a long time and his game consists of buying the first comic book he saw on a shelf in order to ask you out.

But that doesn't mean he is cold. Quite the opposite really, Johnathon is very touchy-feely. He hasn't been with anyone for a while and misses touching and being touched. He is most comfortable when being at least 70% curled around you. 

He smokes Dunhill Carltons (he likes to feel fancy), but less now that he isn't as stressed from work. Like he said, he used to go on walks to smoke and pass by the comic book store you work at before you guys had even met. I like to think he developed a little crush back then.

Had his tattoos done in college, so they are very faded now. He doesn’t think of redoing them because the mere thought of having to stay seated for hours in the same place feeling pain stresses him out. He was a lot more easygoing when he had them done.

He did have a superhero phase when he was a kid. He would fantasize a lot about having superpowers and flying away when the bullies showed up. Never thought about fighting back. Before becoming the Spot, he wasn't the confrontational type. The hero thing fizzled out as he grew older, but he would always dream about being stronger. Being a better version of himself in a kinda superficial, but understandable way.

He still has a bunch of action figures, he thinks they look cool. If you give him one, he won't even care if he knows the character or not, he just likes them.

Even though Johanthon says he is “good-looking”, he does add “for a scientist” in the end. I think he tries to mask his insecurities with humor, always putting himself down with a joke, always saying he’s too old, too corny, too nerdy. In the back of his head he knows the hair and the glasses are kind of a look, but he doesn’t feel handsome. You help as much as you can, but that’s an obstacle for him to overcome by himself. I think after i’m really serious this time, baby he gets better at this.

🕳️ The Spot HCs!

For clarification: the story of i’m not gonna turn into a cosmic anomaly and leave you forever stretches the plot of ATSV to a few weeks instead of a day. Just think of it like Spot taking a little longer to power up instead of a few hours.

Since he was forced to do crime to survive, I think he would've thought to himself: "Well, since I have to go rob a store anyway, might as well be that one where that cute cashier works at." 

Yes, Spot starts tracking and following you after you two meet. He uses his computer nerd powers for evil. A very unhealthy way of dealing with a crush, I think.

Spot can eat but he doesn't get any nutritional value from food. When you drink wine together or when he burns his tongue (?) from tea it's just a placebo effect. I like to think that Johnathon's mind is still inside The Spot's body, so he eats just for habit. He says he gets hungry all the time, but it's actually a deep need to consume everything around him. The little rascal.

As he powers up, Spot gets more confident in himself. He thinks the stronger he gets the further away he gets from Johnathon, his old self. Which, in the end, turns out to be true.

I think at first you don't really believe Spot is an actual supervillain which is why when you see him after the fight in Mumbattan it's such a shock. In a way, you did the same thing Miles did when he underestimated him, even if for whole different reasons. I think even though he knows you care about him, Spot knows you don't see him as a threat and that makes him want to impress you more. 

Spot knows that the reason you keep getting new jobs is because his own crazy supervillain life keeps interfering with yours, so he tries to keep it as much hidden from you as possible. He thinks what you don’t know can’t hurt you! As Johnathon, he feels guilty at first that you’re changing your whole life to go with him to New Jersey, BUT this time it was your choice! Not because of supervillain shenanigans!

He does love you (even if it was too early to know) and wants to be with you, but his head is so lost in the supervillain game, he thinks he can’t stop now. You never really realized how serious he was about “being stronger”. Which is why you never tried to stop him.

I chose I’d Rather Be With You as a theme song because I think it’s a song Johnathon/Spot would enjoy. But I also like how the lyrics match both their feelings towards you, in both fics. He wants to fly away with you once he gets all powered up, he loves your smile, etc. He does want to be your friend until the end as the Spot, but as Johanthon he is really committed to work on his bad habits in order to be with you. We gon' make it this time, baby! I cry, damnit. 

It’s also a surprisingly gender-neutral song, with no physical descriptions in it! Anyone can put themselves in the lover's place. Bootsy Collins is cool like that.

I like to think that, in the end, Spot didn't erase himself from the timeline. He just reloaded an old save. Does that make sense? Like you said, your relationship will always have happened, just in an old, non existent dimension. And since Johnathon and you still get dreams and deja vu about the whole thing (think of it as dimensional residue or whatever), you do have all the EXP of the old save. Johnathon, after going through the literal end of all existence and then forgetting about it, feels something compelling him to finally take a chance and enter the comic book store. It’s like when your body goes through something and it remembers later, even if your mind doesn't. Here's a (hopefully) comprehensive timeline:

the end.

Thank you for taking an interest in my weird AU! I would kill for you 💖

[graysparrowao3]

WIP Whatever!

Holy shit. Hell yeah! We've got so many WIP snippets incoming, let's goooo all my incredible writer friends! Thank you @darkurgetrash for the beautifully heart-breaking teaser for Lead Me Through the Dark and the tag! As well as all the others that have shared! BG3 fic writing hype!

Who needs a tag? Who doesn't have a tag and wants one? (No seriously, let me know I would love to tag you in). Would any of youuuuu like a tag? Consider it a welcome invitation! @benicemurphy @ashprince-of-bel-air @rinwellisathing @winged-monkey @sorceresssundries

Not sure if anyone is interested in the Rolan, Cal, and Lia stuff, I know it's all so miserable right now, but it's going to look up in the next chapter.

I was working on it today then I remembered I'm a liar and fucking out of control and started some light-hearted banter for the totally-not-going-to-exist next instalment of Rugan x Aradin series as well. (It's all @lizziemajestic's fault, who helped inspire the scene).

So...

Both under the cut? ...Both under the cut.

Rugan x Aradin totally-nonexistent-next-installment banter WIP

Rugan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Think assassination is reserved for folks of some standing. Nothing but plain old murder for you.”

“Oh well,” Aradin replied, enjoyably thick with sarcasm, “in that case I don’t fancy it at all. Besides, we both know you’d botch it.”

“You still on about that?”

“Let’s have it then,” Aradin asked as he busied himself pulling his gauntlets off. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just came to ask for your hand, didn’t I? Throw you over my shoulder and take you back with me.” The younger man’s amused gaze flickered over from where he was unlacing out of his heavy footwear, and a flash of alarm petrified Rugan’s face. “Please tell me you didn’t take that serious.”

Aradin puckered his face up dramatically. “Best cancel the flowers. And they would’ve gone so nice with my eyes.”

“Oh aye,” Rugan snorted. “Would’ve really highlighted the pubescent angst you turned into a personality.”

Aradin pulled the chair back and relaxed into it, swinging his legs up and resting his feet on the table, one foot crossed over the other. “Reckon I’d look good in a dress, big slit in the side so you can see the boots. Get the feelin’ formal wear isn’t really your thing. Bet you scrub up nice, though.”

“Swear to Gods,” Rugan let his face fall into his hands and forcefully rubbed his eyelids.

“You’re so easy to wind up mate,” Aradin clasped his hands behind his head and grinned.

Rolan, Cal, & Lia next chapter WIP - I swear they've hit the bottom and after this next bit of sad discussion in the next chapter they're finally going to have a win and things will start looking up.

Rolan put his elbows on his knees and slid his hands in his hair.

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn't your fault, Rolan,” Cal said, rubbing his temples. He was so tired, perhaps even tired of making that response.

“I thought that…” Rolan waved vaguely, hoping his pathetic gesture would do the talking for him. “I thought I'd finally figured our way out. But I stalled. Waited around like it was going to come to me. If I’d have acted sooner, if I’d have written the letter when I first thought of the idea. If I hadn’t wasted so long doubting it was even possible we might have left for Baldur’s Gate a great many tenday before this all happened. It could hardly be worse, reputation notwithstanding. The resources such an accomplished wizard would have access to - we’d be long gone and basking in the upper classes of the Gate before Elturel even thought of taking an extended holiday to the Nine Hells. Not to mention the earnings potential.”

“If I can’t eat it, he can keep his gold,” Cal muttered.

“I should’ve thought of it sooner,” Rolan voice clipped harsh with regret.

“Did think of it,” Lia said forcefully, an honest attempt at reconciliation. “Hells, even got accepted. That’s not nothing, Rolan. That one lady seemed impressed.”

“Not sure if impressed would be the word I used,” he mused. “Though it certainly helped us throw our weight around.” He paused, reflecting on that day that they had first entered the basement. He thought about that woman and her vile judgment. Then her child, and that insufferable ball. And then… Rolan shook the recollection away. They had always avoided looking through the remains of that room.

[forpiratereasons]

meeting stede bonnet

a slow meandering through June. prompt ten: magic

day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | day 4 | day 5 | day 6 | day 7 | day 8 | day 9 | day 10

(i have so many thoughts about writing coming out fic for a canon in which the lack of coming out is The Point. for today it's just: my own coming out needed the words, and especially now, my words have power. i'm here, i'm queer. i'm going to live beautifully.)

-

Some part of Stede had wondered if it would really make a difference. Coming out.

In most ways, it didn’t. Stede still got up in the mornings and he still put on the shirts and trousers he liked best, and sure, maybe he had been fairly extravagant in his fashion before, but he had not suddenly gotten more or less so.

He still spend his days at the bookshop, helping customers, trying to keep Lucius from doing anything too scandalous in the stacks with his current paramour.

He still had an ongoing feud with a seagull that both he and the bird were trying to hide from the bird’s—caretaker? person?—and he still liked old reruns of pirate documentaries and his back still ached sometimes at night.

And he found—he may have just put the words in the right order, spoken them aloud to the world and himself—but he’d known. He’d maybe always known.

But in the ways it did—in the ways that changed—oh, it was like magic.

Picking out a pride pin to match his outfit. Smiling at men holding hands on the pavement. Lucius, grabbing a copy of Glamour’s 100 Hottest Men and asking Stede to weigh in. Frenchie, offering to do a queer crystal reading.

Even Roach, sliding a handful of pamphlets across the counter to him one morning, saying, “We meant it, Captain. Be safe.” STI testing. PrEP. A list of locations for free condoms.

After living a life on the outside, Stede felt suddenly like he’d been let in. Like the last puzzle pieces of his life were just settling into place.

Magic.

“Was it like that for you?” Stede asked Ed, sitting on their bench over a lunch hour destined, again, to run long. “When you came out.”

Though their shops were only a few doors down from each other, it was still a pleasant surprise when he’d stepped out to see the familiar swath of hair, the familiar leather trousers, standing in line again for hot dogs.

Ed thought about this for a while, rubbing a thumb over the back of Stede’s hand where they were resting together on the bench.

“I don’t think I ever did come out,” he said finally. “I think it just was—I like who I like, I am who I am.” He glanced at Stede. “I like you.”

Stede knew that, obviously. He blushed anyway.

“Lucky me. And lucky for you, I quite like you.”

“Oh, you quite like me, now we’re getting fancy. Am I what you expected?”

Ed said it with a bit of a laugh, like it didn’t matter, but his eyes were dark and serious. His chin dipped toward his chest, almost like he meant to hide in his beard, shy.

“Expected, goodness, no,” Stede said, matching that bit of laugh as he chased Ed’s hand across the bench, squeezing it tight. “I didn’t expect anything, if I’m honest. I definitely didn’t expect to find someone so—so—”

“So rough around the edges?”

“So easy,” Stede corrected, gently. “It’s never been easy for me—other people, I mean. I’ve spent a long time trying to mold myself into something else, trying to be what other people expected me to be.”

Even now, Ed was easy. Easy to tell this to, easy to confess this. Ed, looking at him sidelong, giving him attention but also space. Ed’s hand in his, more comfortable now.

“Suppose that’s why I waited so long,” Stede went on. “To come out. And why everything feels like it’s falling together.”

“You’re being yourself, now.”

“I’m trying to be. Trying to be comfortable in my own skin.” He squeezed Ed’s hand again. “The way you are.”

Stede grinned over at Ed, but Ed didn’t quite smile back. A half-smile, maybe; a smile that was afraid to let Stede down. Stede saw it because he knew what it was, to smile that kind of smile.

“I like that,” Ed was saying. “Sounds good—really getting into it, deciding who to be, how to be. Not sure I’m the best example of it, mate, but you—you deserve that, Stede.”

“You do too,” Stede said softly.

Ed smiled again, that half-smile. Patted Stede’s hand, heaved himself up from the bench. The lunch hour was finally coming to its close.

“Yeah,” he said, looking away. “Guess we’ll see.”

[allamericanb-tch]

crimson rivers thoughts (10) 

@tastetherainbow290

chapter 20

i’m scared for this chapter

my death predictions are vanity, peter, irene, and one of the death eaters (i can’t remember their names) (please let me be wrong please let me be wrong)

i’m only reading this one for now bc it’s “quick” according to the author

sirius pov! ok that’s good

ugh slughorn. die.

oh no the death eaters found peter

peter noooo omg. do not die right now.

they’re just. beating him to death. 

WHY DOES PETER ALWAYS BETRAY THEM IN EVERY FIC

james pov ahhhh dramatic irony

VANITY NO

and there goes willa

VESPA NO you will be missed

hodge no not vanity please

poor james oh my gosh

no vanity vanity no why no

tears

ok i need to be somewhere in 20 minutes this is horrible timing but i have to stop reading now

guys im back. it’s been like an hour i am not ready

“She never got her first kiss. She never got to fall in love. She never got to go home. Her prince never saved her. Her prince killed her. Her prince is dead.” SOBBING

why would you write this. i’m so serious rn WHY WOULD YOU WRITE THIS

peter saving regulus ❤️

IRENE NO

why would you write this. 

ugh poor mathias. they didn’t mean to 💔

irene no what are you doing

MATHIAS TOO NO

JAMES NO what’s gonna happen i’m scared

i know james isn’t dead but regulus doesn’t and no one can tell him james is still alive ugh poor regulus 

sirius pov

yes sirius send regulus a secret message

rip juniper 💔 i know i would’ve been sad if we saw more of her

every time the death count shows at the end of the chapter i get so sad when i see evan’s name

chapter 21

maybe this one is happier?

ugh i hate slughorn

the two victor thing this is just like the hunger games (every time i say smth like this it’s like… yeah… that’s the whole point 😭)

sirius you’re so smart i love you

dorlene yay!! i love them even tho this is SAD

dorcas running FOUR MILES to see marlene 

i love them.

dorcassss tell her about the orderrrrr

“you’re a good friend” ❤️‍🩹

remus pov switch

regulus putting everything in the river ok

he’s keeping his own stuff that’s good

is regulus going to LEAP ACROSS THE RIVER

okay he didn’t. good.

run regulus run go find james

“It reminds Remus vaguely of dogs getting the zoomies” 😭

i lowkey forgot to be writing my thoughts down

“fancy a trip to space” sirius 😭

hanky panky time

MOON

AHHHHHHHH

why are they stopping 😯

oh poor sirius ☹️ ugh i just feel so bad for him like. the way the hallow treated him was so unfair 

chapter 22

james pov!

james 💔

“happy birthday hodge” TEARS

eeee regulus is going to find james

james talking to regulus in his head

“regulus never fails to look up” 😭😭😭😭😭😭

poor james just out here suffering

james getting high off anesthesia 😭

come on regulus you can do it go find james

HE FOUND HIM!!!!!!!!!!!

james thinking regulus was sirius ☹️

regulus just going with it

the james pov of this 💔

not him trying to sell sirius about regulus’ “parting gift” 😭 i hope he does get to tell him eventually

he’s realizing

“you came and found me” “of course i did” AHHHHH

kiss kiss kiss

ok they’re hugging i love them

this is so sad but reunion!!!

sirius pov

joffery?! what is your offer

chapter 23

regulus telling james abt irene ☹️

why is this sad

they’re flirting

ope nevermind flirting over

regulus holding james ❤️‍🩹

i bet the audience is eating this up. which is kind of really sad. like. they’re having a moment and everyone’s just. watching.

SOUP 

they’re literally katniss and peeta in that one scene

“thank him” im just as confused as you are regulus

regulus feeding james (this is giving me the ick lowkey)

them talking about their relationship i hate that regulus is only doing this for the games

ugh i hate that james is being so james right now like. i want them to do this in peace and privacy and without the context of the games

“I used to collect brown rocks if they reminded me of your eyes” if someone did that for me i would cry

regulus telling james he was his first love

KISS ALREADY

i feel bad rn bc im like. the audience. intruding on their private moment. i know this is purely fiction but still. 

😯 they kissed

a sad kiss but a kiss nonetheless 

they’re kissing for real now eeeee

“That was one of the happiest moments of my life” ☹️☹️☹️

“now James knows that Regulus would kiss him in the pursuit of saving his life, if there literally was no other option” i am so sorry james

“peter wouldn’t betray me like that”

the tension rn (and not in a good way)

my sister is watching my favorite episode (s2 e13) of regular show rn im getting so distracted this is going to be my last chapter

“You can't protect me from this, because I'm already here” 💔

why is this SO SAD

“If there's one thing all of this has taught me it's that I've always cared” 

the end notes: “everyone: WHEN WILL THEY KISS??? me: be careful what you wish for” this feels targeted

[exhuastedpigeon]

Hi Han :)

9,18,21,22

Hi Saturn :)

9. What fic meant the most to you to write? it hurts to hope for more meant SO much to me as I wrote it. It was an idea that appeared fully formed in my head and writing it was so cathartic. It took pieces of my own experience and weaved them into the character arcs and conversations. The topic made it a very personal story for me and I'm so happy with how good it felt to write it and finish it.

18. What was the hardest fic to title? wet your lips (and smile to the camera) was SO HARD to title. I still don't love the title for it if I'm being honest, but it was a very fun fic to write so I'll forgive it for being so hard to title.

21. Share your favorite piece of dialogue. It isn't just one piece of dialogue but I love this bit of banter between Eddie and Buck from it hurts to hope for more.

“Thanks Buck,” Eddie takes a sip and lets out a satisfied little hum. “Did you buy that fancy ass peppermint mocha creamer?” “It’s not fancy Eddie, it’s literally coffee mate creamer that I bought at Target.” “Yeah but it doesn’t leave that weird filmy taste in my mouth.” “Eddie, how many times have I told you to not buy the fucking powdered creaming,” Buck laughs and it feels so good. It feels like he was shattered apart last night and he put himself back together alone, but now Eddie is here holding the pieces in place and his laugh is carefully gluing them back together.  “You’ll probably have to remind me again next time I run out.” “I’m throwing it out next time I come over, Jesus man. You’ve got to have some standards.” “Come over tomorrow after shift so you can throw it away,” Eddie throws him a bright grin as they walk out of the locker room together to the loft. Buck can smell bacon and he’s been trying to cut back on his pork intake but he thinks today is an extenuating circumstance.

22. Share an excerpt from your favorite scene. Oh I reallly loved the whole 'Eddie fall into a mine shaft' scene from gold when you see me. Here's a little excerpt of Eddie being a sassy little shit to make Buck laugh/help calm in down and then being serious when he's talking to Bobby.

“I thought I’d try to find some gold, Cap,” Eddie says into the radio and he hears Buck snort above ground. Good, that was the goal.  “Eddie fell through the ground into what we think is some old mining tunnels,” Buck says instead of letting Eddie’s joke sit there for longer. Rude. “I’d say he’s about 10 feet down and he says he’s fine but -” “I may have a concussion,” Eddie says into the radio because telling Bobby that he’s hurt feels different than telling Buck. Bobby will worry like a captain, he’ll make sure they get Eddie out but won’t risk himself to do it. Buck on the other hand will probably try to jump into the hole after Eddie if he thinks Eddie needs medical care. “And a bruised tailbone. Probably sprained my ankle too. I don’t think I’m bleeding anywhere and my breathing and heart rate are fine, I just haven't tried to stand up yet.” There’s a second of silence on the radio, then another, before Bobby’s voice comes through again. “Buck, stay where you are so we can find you more easily. Eddie, radio if anything changes. We’ll be to you both in under 10 minutes with tools to get you out.” “Appreciate it,” Eddie says, then adds. “I promise I won’t cut my line this time.” “Not a funny joke, Diaz,” Buck says loud enough for Eddie to hear it twice, once through the Eddie shaped hole in the ceiling of the tunnel he’s in and again on his radio.  

fic writer asks

[artificialqueens]

War! (Bianca x Alyssa) - Jinkx-Monswoon

SUMMARY: In which Alyssa and Bianca read each other to filth—but in the heat of the moment, one does something that leaves them both speechless.

A/N: fun fact! about an hour after I finished writing this fic, Alyssa was announced as the next Pit Stop guest! did I accidentally predict that? you decide… >:]

“Alyssa,” says Bianca from across the dressing room, “how much longer is your damn makeup gonna take?”

“Hey, a bitch needs time to paint,” Alyssa retorts, leaning toward the mirror and brushing at her lips with gloss.

“Puh-lease,” Bianca rolls her eyes, “since when do you paint?”

“Speak for yourself!” Alyssa squints at Bianca’s reflection in the mirror. “Sure, you may paint now, but don’t act like we haven’t all seen your humble beginnings on Drag Race…” She turns from the reflection to the real Bianca behind her, her brow furrowed.

“Emphasis on humble.”

Bianca shoots up from her chair. “Oh, you wanna go there? Fine by me, Katy.”

“Oh, hardy-har. At least I wasn’t kissing RuPaul’s ass as Judge Judy.”

“Hey, I did NOT do that on purpose, okay? If I could do it again right now, I’d do Santino Rice just to piss him off.”

“Sure,” Alyssa laughs.

“But I’m not gonna!” Bianca declares as she saunters toward Alyssa. “And you wanna know why?”

“Oh, yes.” Alyssa stands as well, leveraging herself against the taller queen. “Enlighten me.”

Bianca lightly jabs her acrylic nail into Alyssa’s chest. “Because I don't need to go on All Stars to get a do-over in the first place!”

Alyssa’s eyes widen as she backs away, breaking out in a fit of incredulous laughter.

“Oh! Ohhh-ho-ho-ho!” She throws her arms out and sneers. “Del Rio wants a fight!”

“And I’ll win, too. You know, like I usually do when I’m in a competition. I even still have the title to prove it!”

Alyssa tilts her head, flashing a faux-sweet smile. “Aww, and you even still use the same tired-ass reads!”

“I thought we already established which one of us is actually funny.” Bianca puts a hand on her hip. “Didn’t we?”

“You make a good point! In fact, let’s establish a few more facts. For example…” Alyssa starts counting on her fingers.

“You have two shitty movies…”

“That you agreed to be in.”

“Just to beef out my IMDB page—which also includes a Netflix original docu-series and a Drag Race web series that, unlike yours, is being brought back by popular demand.”

“Oh, yeah? Go on, ya big fancy sellout.”

Alyssa proudly gestures to herself. “I was also a semifinalist on America’s Got Talent!”

“Hah, as a fucking wildcard!” Bianca smirks. “Getting eliminated five times between two shows is nothing to brag about.” Her volume rises—she may be getting a little carried away.

“It’s called good networking, miss Vimeo original comedy special. Like, come on, who the fuck uses Vimeo—”

“Okay, okay, Q&A’s over. Let me ask YOU a question, Edwards.“ 

A shit-eating grin emerges from her black-colored lips.

"Do you like Dancing with the Stars?”

Alyssa’s face twists. As proud as she may be of her drag daughter, she certainly does not appreciate Bianca having the gall to compare her success to Alyssa’s. “Don’t you dare,” she seethes.

“What about The Masked Singer?” Bianca continues, drunk on the power of her words.

“I will make you shut up, and you’re gonna regret it when I do,” Alyssa—a woman of her word—threatens.

“Oh, and don’t even get me started on—”

Suddenly, Alyssa grabs Bianca with both hands by the collar of her dress, pulling herself up to look her dead in the eye.

“Finish that sentence,” she whispers in a dry, cutting rasp. “I dare you.”

Already, Bianca is preparing to open her mouth again—and so, too, does Alyssa prepare to strike back.

“…the Emmy-winning HBO Max original…”

Oh, she’s serious. So be it—this is the perfect opportunity for Alyssa to enact her revenge.

“We’re Here—”

“Shut up.”

“—mmph!”

Bianca stumbles, nearly knocked over by the intense, electrifying kiss discharged onto her lips.

Alyssa doesn’t hold back. She’s been waiting to do this for years. Her pride had long kept her from doing it sooner—but again, this was the perfect opportunity for it. To show Bianca what she was capable of; to weaken her; to bring her down to her level, in order for her to understand that Alyssa is so stupidly in love with her that it makes her angry.

She’s absolutely relishing in having caught Bianca off guard, and finally being able to unleash on her all of the feelings she’s repressed for far too long.

Then, not even a second after she pulls away, Bianca retaliates.

She pins Alyssa against the wall, pushing back into the kiss as she snakes a hand into her hair. Alyssa is too shocked to even move—that is, until Bianca gently tugs at her locks, and that’s enough for the smaller queen to crumble into the kiss, dizzy with passion.

The messy exchange goes on—it starts with the two practically smashing each other’s faces together, drunk on the heat of the moment—but each pause to catch their breath is sobering, and it gradually brings them down from the high. The moment becomes less of a collision between opposing forces, and more of a union between hearts, reflected in each kiss being more gentle and affectionate than the last.

An eternity seems to pass before Alyssa finally calls it off, lowering her head and sinking into Bianca’s chest. In spite of what just happened, she feels a twinge of regret for doing something so impulsive. Completely separated from her pride, this regret escapes her.

“Sorry—”

“Don’t.”

…Shit.

She’s fucked up, hasn’t she?

Alyssa looks up at Bianca, fearing the worst—but upon seeing the glazed look of desire in her eyes, her mouth falls slightly agape and her cheeks flush.

“Just kiss me again.”

It takes a second or two for Alyssa to even register this—but once she does, she wastes no time acting at her behest.

Revenge has never been so sweet.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Could you please write Jason and Y/N (Father of Mine Universe) with prompts 48, 31, and maybe 30? could go either way.

Even if you choose not to write this, thanks for creating Father of Mine, it's one of my favorite fics!

Father of Mine

48. Using your body to shield them from attack.

31. Hurriedly checking for their pulse.

30. Performing CPR when they stop breathing.

Jason and Y/N were walking along the water after getting dinner.

Most of the harbors in Gotham were run by one crime lord or another. Which meant that there were very few areas on the water for civilians to enjoy – or feel safe. 

But Jason knew of a strip that was under the radar.

There were a few other couples with the same idea. And random groups of kids and teenagers hanging out and messing around.

Jason was relaxed.

That was his first mistake.

Jason had immediately clocked a random middle-aged man who was covered in sweat and was visibly trembling.

Being far too familiar with the sight, Jason assumed the guy was another unfortunate addict. 

But then he noticed the man was carrying a backpack.

Jason had all of 5 seconds to realize what was about to happen.

He shielded Y/N with his body while screaming as loud as he could, “Get down!”

Jason knew he couldn’t save everyone, and Y/N would always be his number one priority.

The next second, the bomb exploded.

The impact knocked Jason unconscious.

For how long, he had no idea.

He was disoriented from the explosion, his ears ringing from tinnitus and his vision struggling to focus from the vertigo. Yet, somehow he could still hear the beating of his heart in his eardrums. 

People were screaming in pain around him and others were crying as they looked down at their loved ones. Half the harbor was on fire from the explosion. Cement and debris was everywhere. Jason’s hair was grey from it.

He blinked and then panicked.

“Y/N!” Jason screamed when he realized she wasn’t anywhere near him.

He jumped to his feet and whipped around in every direction looking for her.

“Y/N!” He screamed even louder, his throat burning from the effort.

Then he realized when the explosion when off they had been standing next to the railing that blocked off the water. The railing that had now been blasted away and into the harbor.

Jason sprinted to the edge and looked down at the black water below.

Without hesitation, he dove into the depths.

It was almost impossible to see anything.

But just seconds later, he found Y/N unconscious and completely submerged.

Jason had never swam faster in his life.

But when they breached, Y/N didn’t gasp for air.

She was completely unconscious.

Jason’s eyes darted around, trying to find their escape.

By some miracle, there was a rusty ladder that led back up to the pier from the water.

Jason put Y/N’s body over his shoulder as he climbed the ladder, silently praying that the metal didn’t break under their combined weight.

When they reached the top, he gently laid her down and his fingers shot to the pulse point at her neck.

Nothing.

“No, no, no,” Jason mumbled. “Y/N. Come on, baby. You’re not doing this to me.”

He found his Red Hood comm in the pocket of his jacket, and put it to his hear.

“Contact Bruce,” he commanded the AI as he started performing CPR on Y/N.

“What is it?” Bruce answered with slight panic. 

Jason had never called him like this before. And therefore Bruce knew immediately something terrible happened.

“Get the fucking jet here right now,” Jason growled.

“What’s happened?” Bruce asked, but it was obvious he was moving around already to leave.

“There was an explosion. She doesn’t have a pulse and she’s not breathing,” it was all Jason was capable of giving him. “Just get the fucking jet here now!”

He didn’t have time to explain more and hung up. And he didn’t have to say Y/N’s name for Bruce know who he was talking about. There was only one woman in Jason’s life that would have him sounding so panicked and desperate.

Jason continued his CPR, fully focused now that he knew Bruce was on the way.

Still nothing.

He did another round of compressions.

Jason’s eyes started watery as his mind began to believe that Y/N wasn’t going to make it.

He wouldn’t survive.

Y/N had changed his life. She made him better, made him good, made him want to worker harder – do literally anything to become the man she deserved and to continue to be deserving of her love.

“Please,” Jason whimpered. “Please don’t leave me.”

But then Y/N’s eyes shot open and she immediately turned over and started coughing up water.

“Holy fuck,” Jason gasped in relief at the sight.

Y/N continued coughing until her throat was scratched and dry.

Jason rubbed her back, trying to comfort her without preventing her body from getting all the water out of her lungs.

After she finished, she was shaking from being freezing cold and from the shock.

Despite him also being wet, Jason put his coat over her shoulders.

“Don’t ever fucking do that to me again,” Jason begged Y/N as he pulled her into his arms. 

He kissed the crown of her head and hoped his body heat would be enough to warm her up.

“What happened?” Her voice had never been raspier and it was now quivering.

“A bomb went off. I thought I shielded you from it, but the impact must’ve thrown you into the harbor.”

“I’m OK,” she tried to tell him. But her shaking voice was unconvincing. 

Jason wasn’t letting go of her anytime soon.

It was only 5 minutes later that the batplane touched down on what remained of the pier.

Jason looked up to see Dick, Tim, and Damian jump out and immediately start helping the injured.

But Bruce, dressed in his Batman uniform, was walking straight to Jason and Y/N.

“She needs to go to a hospital,” Jason called out when Bruce was a few yards away. “Her heart stopped beating and her lungs took in too much water.”

Jason knew Bruce wouldn’t argue with taking Y/N there immediately.

Bruce was clearly relieved at seeing his daughter alive and conscious. But that didn’t mean she was in the clear. Nearly drowning still had its risks. If her heart stopped beating, she was in danger of brain damage or pneumonia.

“I’ll take her. You help the others,” Bruce ordered as he stepped forward to take Y/N from Jason’s arms.

“Like fucking hell I am,” Jason growled as he stood up with Y/N in his arms.

Bruce was about to fight him on it, but then he met Y/N’s eyes. Her skin was pale and almost had a blue tint to it. She looked so small and vulnerable in Jason’s arms. Not like the strong and grown woman that had first strutted into Wayne Manor.

“I’m not leaving her,” Jason added for good measure.

Bruce finally sighed and nodded. “Take the jet. You know where to go. I’ll meet you there.”

Before Jason could carry her away, Y/N whispered, “What about the others?” 

Her eyes tried to look around her boyfriend’s broad shoulders to see the other victims.

“B is going to help them,” Jason gently told her. He even angled his body to block her line of sight. She didn’t need to see any of it. 

“We already have ambulance and firemen on the way,” Bruce added, hoping it would convince her further not to worry herself. 

There was nothing she could do for them anyway. 

Then Bruce locked eyes with Jason. “Go. Get out of here. Take care of her.”

“Always,” Jason muttered quickly before hurrying Y/N to the jet.

————————

Y/N woke up to two low voices clearly having a serious discussion, but trying to keep their voices down.

When she opened her eyes, Y/N realized she was in a hospital room. But it wasn’t just any room. It seemed like a five-star hotel with how fancy it was. It didn’t have that sterile smell or those harsh fluorescent lights that caused headaches.

“It was a turf war,” Bruce told Jason quietly. “Carmine has jurisdiction over the harbor the two of you were at tonight. But Farrelli wanted it for himself. He forced his latest victim to bring the bomb.”

Jason crossed his arms. “So, the guy was dead either way, Farrelli just thought he’d put him to some use before he murdered him.”

Bruce nodded. “And kill five more people with him.”

“Five people died?” Y/N burst out without realizing it.

Both men’s heads whipped in her direction.

“You’re awake,” Jason sighed and immediately rushed to her side.

“What hospital am I at?” She mumbled, looking around again.

“Gotham General,” he told her as he sat on the edge of the bed to face her.

Jason gently grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. But he had no intention of letting it go, keeping a tight hold and rubbing his thumb back and forth across her skin.

Bruce was slower to join them as he walked with his hands in his pant pockets.

“This isn’t Gotham General,” she commented with a suspicious gaze. 

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Well, as soon as Bruce arrived, they realized that you’re Gotham royalty by blood, and brought you to a special suite.”

Then Y/N’s eyes slowly moved to her father. “Five people died from the explosion?”

She needed to know. But she also knew that both men would try to protect her from possible survivor’s guilt.

So Bruce just nodded.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked, trying to distract her by changing the subject.

“Tired. And my throat is sore,” she admitted with a light shrug.

Then she looked up at Jason and really took him in.

There were dark shadows under his eyes – the eyes that were still a bit bloodshot. 

Had he been crying? She hadn’t registered that. 

His hair was a mess, probably from drying haphazardly after jumping into the water to save her.

“Are you OK?” She asked.

It would be right on brand for Jason to risk his life saving her, but ignore any and all injures that he’d received from the same life-threatening travesty.

“I’m fine. Always am,” Jason reassured her too quickly.

Bruce chimed in,“We were all just worried about you, Y/N.”

Both men knew her next question was going to be about the well-being of Damian, Dick, and Tim.

“Can we go home?” She asked softly.

Y/N had always hated hospitals. And once her mother got cancer, Y/N absolutely despised them. Now all she had attached to them was bad memories that constantly threatened to trigger her. 

“They just need to get a scan back, make sure everything’s good,” Jason tried to comfort her. “Once that’s good, I’ll take you home.”

He knew her distaste for hospitals and was prepared for her to want to escape at the earliest opportunity.

“Scan?” Y/N questioned.

“You didn’t have a pulse,” Bruce explained. “You have a concussion. We need to make sure there was no brain damage or any lasting side effects.”

“Right,” she mumbled, trying not to sound worried.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Jason reassured her as he cupped her cheek.

“Perhaps you should stay at the manor for a few days,” Bruce offered. “You can relax and not be bothered.”

“She can not be bothered in our apartment,” Jason interrupted, giving him side eye.

“Jason…” Y/N warned gently.

She knew the signs of Jason getting worked up. The fire in his eyes was always something Y/N could read – more than anyone else.

Bruce wasn’t offended by Jason’s little snipe. He was used to his temper. But his gaze did turn rather serious. 

“Could I talk to you outside for a moment?”

Jason was about to refuse, not wanting to leave Y/N’s side. But he knew that would just most likely lead to an argument. And Y/N didn’t need to hear or see that. She was already exhausted and recovering. The last thing she needed was to witness was her father and boyfriend going at it – especially over her.

So Jason just nodded and stormed out of the room.

The quicker they got this over with, the better.

As soon as the door closed, Jason was sizing Bruce up.

“What exactly is your next move?” Bruce questioned.

“I’m going after Farrelli,” Jason rumbled, as if it was obvious.

No one put Y/N in danger and got away with it. Jason had already come up with a plan on how to seek his revenge. 

It was going to be gruesome and dirty, but nothing less than what the bastards deserved.

Bruce clearly had expected this answer. “So do you plan on doing that while you take care of Y/N?” And he tilted his head as he challenged Jason.

“Are you really trying to stop me?”

Bruce took a step forward. “No, Jason. I’m trying to protect you from yourself. You get blinded by vengeance. And I let you get away with it. But now your actions don’t just effect you…they effect her, too.”

Jason blinked.

“Y/N needs you right now. Even though she will act like she doesn’t.” Bruce inhaled. “If you’re going to put revenge over her wellbeing, she should stay at the manor.”

This was a somewhat of a warning – an opportunity for Jason to do the right thing before he could make his mistake.

Jason’s head hung low now. “I can’t let him get away with it. She almost died, Bruce.”

“And he won’t. But we’ll take care of it,” Bruce promised.

Jason thought it about a moment, before he finally nodded slowly. “I think the manor would be good. But I won’t leave her.”

“I never said you had to,” Bruce corrected.

Jason nodded again and made his way to the door of Y/N’s room again.

“Jason?” Bruce called.

He turned around with an eyebrow quirked.

“Thank you for saving her life.”

Jason tried not to roll his eyes, but took a few steps back to Bruce. 

“You have your opinions about me and her, I’m sure. But I want to make this is clear: I’m always going to protect her. Always. What happened tonight is never going to happen again. I’d die protecting her.”

Jason didn’t wait for Bruce’s response before turning back around. 

But just as he opened Y/N’s door her heard, “I know, Jason. I’ve always known.”

—————

Jason was able to convince Y/N to stay at the manor.

And she surprisingly agreed – as long as he came with her.

Alfred spoiled her rotten with all of her favorite meals. He was constantly bring her tea or coffee. 

Damian ordered all of his pets to keep her company and cuddle with her. To the point where Jason was annoyed because there was literally no space for him.

Tim downloaded a hundred movies for her to watch. 

Dick sent flowers and chocolates. 

Even Clark stopped by when he heard what happened. 

Unbeknownst to Y/N, all the boys and Bruce were working on taking down Farrelli. 

If Jason was the man from just a few years ago, Farrelli’s corpse would already be rotting somewhere in Gotham. But he had changed. Now they had to do things the right way.

Jason stuck to Y/N’s side like glue. He hovered, watched her like a hawk, wouldn’t let her do anything on her own.

After of a few days of this, Y/N finally had enough.

“You gonna talk to me anytime soon?” She asked him in bed on their third night.

Jason broke their eye contact.

“Jason. Please?” She whispered.

Silence filled the room.

“I can’t do it.”

Her brow furrowed. “Can’t do what?”

For a split moment, she thought he was about to try and break up with her. 

“I can’t watch you get hurt again. I just…I can’t.”

She cupped his cheeks. “But I’m right here. And I’m fine, Jason.”

“When I…” He hesitated. “When I died. I knew it was coming. I saw the bomb counting down and I knew there was no escape. I accepted my fate. I knew I was going to die. And I was scared.” 

Jason shook his head and took in a deep breath, “But Y/N…that was nothing compared to what I felt when I was convinced I’d lost you. I’m never been so fucking terrified in my life.”

Y/N smothered him with her embrace. “I’m so sorry for scaring you. But I’m OK. Please just focus on that. Please.”

“I can’t lose you, Y/N.” Jason whispered into her hair. “This place was hell before I met you. And I have no fuckin’ interest in fighting it without you.”

Y/N wished she could promise Jason that she would never leave him. But she was the child of a mother who passed far too soon. She knew life and death could be so cruel, ripping the loved ones away with or without warning.

No, she didn’t die this time. But who was to say something like this wouldn’t happen again? And maybe next time, she wouldn’t be so lucky. They lived in Gotham after all.

“Fate may have other ideas…But I never plan on leaving your side, Jason. I love you too much to do anything else.”

Jason actually laughed. “I can fight fate.”

He’d done it once before.

----------------

I have a few more of these prompts for bonus material. But let me know what you think 🤗

[breadqueen95]

Dress - Bucky Barnes

bucky barnes x fem!reader

wc: 5k

plot: bucky and y/n’s relationship is new, and they don’t want to share with their friends just yet. but something as simple as a dress can change anyone’s mind, even the winter soldier. 

content warnings: kissing. physical affection. flirting. allusions to sex. drinking. being drunk. language. bucky being a flirt. 

a/n: this is for @natasha-romancff and her taylor swift writing challenge! it took me awhile, but i’ve had a ton of fun writing this. so many bucky fics are angsty, and rightly so the man has some TRAUMA. but for my first bucky fic, based on dress by taylor swift, i wanted something happier for him 

***

Damn. That was a lot of leg.

“I don’t know,” you muttered as you stared into the mirror, “aren’t these things…a little classier than this?”

“Uh…have you met Tony Stark?” Natasha grumbled as she continued to scroll through her phone. “The man has never been classy a day in his life.”

“Well I know he isn’t, but fancy people show up to these things. I just don’t want to embarrass myself.” You were currently standing in front of the full-length mirror in Wanda’s room, staring at the reflection of a woman who didn’t quite look like you.

But it was you, wasn’t it? It was just…that you was wearing a very short, very sexy red cocktail dress. The sweetheart neckline was a nice touch, but the back was completely open. And that hemline? Definitely hiked way up past your knees.

“Y/n, relax,” Wanda reassured in her lilting accent, “sure, the dress is a little…spicier…than you’re used to, but it’s in a good way.”

“I’m pretty sure every single person would be able to tell I spend my days in tactical gear. God, I’m not sure I even know how to walk in heels this high!”

Heaving a dramatic sigh, Natasha threw her phone down and looked at you in the mirror. Her eyebrows were raised, and she was giving you her usual ‘don’t give me that shit’ look. It nearly had you shaking in your very strappy black heels.

“Are you kidding me, y/n? I’ve seen you strut in enough fancy parties during undercover missions to know that you’ve got this.”

“Yeah,” Wanda scoffed as she took a sip of red wine from her glass, “all she’s nervous about is what Bucky will think.”

Rolling your eyes, you tried to hide how much that sentence affected you.

“C’mon, Wanda. You know Bucky and I are just friends.”

“Do friends undress each other with their eyes whenever they’re in the same room?”

Damn it. Damn Wanda and her stupid perceptiveness.

“You’re reading too much into it, Wanda.” She just laughed at you, acting like she knew so much better.

What you knew and wasn’t ready to admit to your two best friends, was that she was right on the money.

Bucky Barnes, the infamous Winter Soldier, your favorite person in the entire world, was now your boyfriend. He had been for a few weeks now. The two of you were insanely private people. Hell, it had been years before the two of you had finally learned everything about each other. Once you had gotten past the walls the other had so carefully crafted, well…

At that point you were in love.

But the others didn’t need to know that, not yet at least. The Avengers were a family, your family. They were really the only true family you’d ever had. But Bucky…Bucky was finally yours. And you were his. You didn’t think it was crazy to just want to enjoy that, just the two of you, without everyone else sharing their jokes and opinions just yet. They did it out of love, you both knew that, but you just wanted him all to yourself.

As you looked back at your reflection in the mirror, you took a minute to really consider what Bucky’s reaction might be. He had the best poker face in the room no matter who he was with, but you knew him well enough to know how he was feeling just based on his eyes. He’d always said how much he loved red on you, and he adored every and any excuse to touch your skin. Those steel blue eyes of his would absolutely burn once he saw you in this dress.

And fuck, that was something you really wanted to see.

“Well, if you aren’t going to wear that dress, you better pick something else,” Nat said, jerking you from your fantasies, “we need to be there in twenty minutes, and we all need to touch up our makeup.”

“Actually…I think I’ll wear it,” you said confidently, trying to hide your grin as you ran your hands down the silky fabric.

What you didn’t see was Natasha and Wanda sharing a secret smirk behind you, like they’d known what you’d do the whole time.

***

Six weeks ago, everything had changed for you and Bucky.

You’d known how you felt for a long time. Bucky Barnes, despite his past, was the kind of man anyone could fall in love with. He was sincere, kind, generous, witty…everything you’d ever wanted in a partner. He had been your best friend for even longer.

It had been a long time before you could even admit your feelings to yourself, let alone to him. After everything the two of you had been through, who had the time and mental capacity for romance? It just didn’t seem important. You just chalked up your feelings to being such close friends. All you wanted was to be near him, even if you just sat in silence doing different things. Just being in the same room as Bucky brought you a sort of peace you’d never had before. Whenever he touched you, even if it was just a brief hug or brushing your back to get past you, your skin erupted into goosebumps. But that was just because physical touch was still foreign to you, right?

And his smile. God, his wonderful smile…

Bucky didn’t smile much. He hid behind a mask of stoicism, a remnant from the trauma of his horrible history as the Winter Soldier. Showing any sort of emotion, especially happiness, was hard for him. But when he finally let himself smile? It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever see.        

It took several sleepless nights wrestling with those confusing feelings to figure it out. You didn’t just see Bucky as your best friend. You had it bad. Not just “oh my god he’s so handsome” bad, like the “I would take a bullet for you I’m so in love” bad. That revelation? It left you euphoric. It also left you scared.

Because you were so sure Bucky didn’t feel the same. And that thought was like a knife to the heart every time it flashed through your mind.

So you kept it to yourself. You tried to keep things as normal as possible, but your heart kept fluttering whenever he walked into a room. Being so close to Bucky meant you confided in each other about pretty much everything, and he knew you well enough to know you were hiding something.

It all exploded on a Tuesday night in the compound.

Tuesdays were your movie nights. Bucky had a lot of pop culture to catch up on, so on this night every week he would come by your room to watch a movie. It was a weekly tradition that kind of started by accident. You were shocked he still hadn’t made time to watch Lord of the Rings, so you forced him onto your couch with popcorn and The Fellowship of the Ring. He loved it so much, and immediately asked if you guys could watch The Two Towers the next week. How could you say no to him?

Tonight, you were watching 13 Going on 30. It was your all-time favorite romcom, and you figured you could both use a break from all the action and fantasy movies you’d been cycling through. Something with a happy ending was worth indulging in.

“Does that Matt guy look like Banner to you? Or is it just me?” Bucky asked through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Heh, maybe a little,” you said, “Give or take a few years.” He laughed at that, and you forced yourself to laugh quietly. You wanted to blurt out your feelings every time you looked at Bucky, so you’d gotten quieter and quieter every time you spent time with him. It was an awful reaction, and you knew he noticed. But it was better than losing his friendship, right?

After that awful and painfully obvious forced laugh, Bucky let out a huge sigh and paused the movie. He set the bowl of popcorn down on the coffee table in front of the couch, then turned to face you. Exasperation and hurt glimmered in his eyes.

“Y/n, what the fuck is going on with you?”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Oh come on, don’t give me that,” he said sharply, “I know you better than anyone, and I know for a fact there’s something you’re not telling me. Is it me? Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No, god no!” You exclaimed.

“Well it must be something I did, because you’ve never been this quiet around me and it keeps getting worse. I hate it, and I want to know what I did so I can fix it.”

“Bucky, I’m serious, it’s nothing you did—”

“Then why? Why are you shutting me out?” He cut you off angrily, arms thrown wide. “You’re my best friend, I just don’t get why—”

“I don’t want you like a best friend, Bucky!” Your eyes went wide as the words flew from your lips. In the most comical way, you clapped your hand over your mouth as if you could stop the words that had already been said. Bucky’s eyes narrowed in confusion.

Oh fuck. He didn’t get it. Curse him and his old man ways.

“What does that even mean, Y/n? Are you saying you don’t want me around anymore?”

“Bucky, of course not. God, I would never want that. Never in a million years.”

“Then you better explain, because if you haven’t noticed, I’m over 100 years old. I need a little help here.”

“It means, uh…um,” you stuttered, wringing your hands together. “Is there any chance we can just forget I said that?”

“Nope, not a chance.”

“It means…it means that I care about you. As more than a friend.”

His entire face seemed to crinkle as he processed that. If you weren’t freaking out, you’d be obsessing over how damn cute it made him look. Then his eyes got wide as he began to make the connection. Your stomach nearly fell out of your ass as his eyes lifted again to meet yours.

“I…I think I know what you’re saying,” he nearly whispered, “I just need you to get real specific real fast, because I’m not about to say anything until I know exactly what you mean.”

“It means I’m in love with you, okay?” You burst out. Even through your mortification, there was a sudden sense of relief. A secret as big as that had definitely been weighing you down. Now that it was out there, that was one less thing you had to worry about.

His eyes grew even wider. How that was possible, you didn’t even know. That beautiful mouth of his began to turn up into a small smile as he gazed softly at you.

“You’re in love with me?” He asked, his smile getting wider with each passing second.

“What, you need it carved into stone or something?” You couldn’t help but sass him. Did you fucking stutter?

“No, it’s just…I never thought you’d feel that way about me.”

“Well, clearly I do. So you – wait, you mean you’ve thought about this before?”

“Of course I have,” he said as he shrugged, “I’ve been in love with you for two years now, how could I not think about it?”

You were instantly filled with warmth and pure bliss. In all your obsessing over your own feelings, you’d never allowed yourself to consider that he might feel the same about you. It just didn’t seem possible.

“I’m sorry,” you burst out, holding a hand up, “you’re telling me you’ve been into me for two years and didn’t say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?” He shot back, inching closer to you.

“Because you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose you because of stupid feelings I have.”

“But…I have those same ‘stupid feelings’ for you. So can we just cut the whole act and get on with it?” Bucky brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your skin so gently.

“Uh…um…get on with what?”

“Well I’d kinda like to kiss you, if you’re cool with it.”

“Bucky Barnes did you just use current slang to ask if you could kiss me?” You didn’t move an inch as his face moved right in front of yours, breath intermingling as you gazed into each other’s eyes. God, was this really happening?

“Yeah, guess your lessons worked,” he murmured.

“Well you better kiss me, then.”

As soon as your lips met, it was like coming home.

***

That memory, your favorite memory, replayed in your head as the three of you stepped into the elevator. Nat and Wanda were happily chatting about who would be there, what kind of antics Tony would cook up tonight, if there would be music we could actually dance to. You know, normal party things.

All you could think about was how long you had to stay until you could sneak off with your boyfriend.

You were so happy Wanda and Natasha had convinced you to wear this dress. When you’d first put it on, the difference from your normal look was so jarring that it took you a few minutes to get used to it. But now that you had, now that you felt the silky fabric shifting against your skin as you moved, now that you saw how dangerously long your legs looked in these heels…

Damn, you felt sexy.

And that sexy feeling? It made you want Bucky’s hands all over you.

But this was a party. A party thrown by Tony Stark, one of the most perceptive and observant people you’d ever met. If you left too soon, if he thought you weren’t “having enough fun”, he’d be more than a little upset. So you had to stay, drink, mingle, maybe dance a little…and then, maybe later, you could go do what you actually wanted.

The elevator pinged, indicating you had reached the topmost floor of the compound. This floor was home to a huge communal space, often used for just hanging out with the team. But on nights like tonight, Tony went all out and turned the space into something that resembled…a club?

The three of you stepped out into the massive room, upbeat music already blasting from the speakers. Typical Tony – he never really outgrew his love for dancing and parties. The bass thrummed through your body, making you want to move to the music. The lights were dim, but you could still tell who was around. It looked like you were some of the last members of the team to arrive. There was a huge bar off to the side, and Natasha headed that way right away. You turned to ask Wanda if she wanted to follow Nat, but she was already making a beeline for Vision. Smiling, you just turned right back around to follow Natasha. A drink sounded pretty good right now.

As you made your way to the bar, you felt more than a few pairs of eyes on you as you walked. You sneakily looked around as you went, noticing men and women watching you with admiration, and dare you say it, longing. As someone whose job was to blend in with the background all the time, this was a different and slightly addictive feeling. You leaned on the bar next to Nat right as the bartender slid her drink over to her.

“Straight whiskey tonight? Damn, going hard.” You quipped.

“Hey now, you know I can handle my liquor. It’s you we need to watch out for, you lightweight.”

Laughing, you scanned the party guests, looking for the one person you wanted to see. Tony had had arm around Pepper’s waist, both laughing at something Rhodey had said. Bruce lingered around them, drink in hand and looking a little nervous, but still happy to be included. Wanda and Vision were sitting quietly on one of the couches, both looking absolutely smitten with each other. Scott Lang, one of the newest additions, was busting some moves, while Peter Parker laughed as he watched. Thor, who was visiting from Asgard, laughed boisterously as he watched various guests try to lift his hammer. You couldn’t help the smile growing on your face. You loved these people so much.

Then, you saw him.

Bucky was with Sam and Steve, as usual. But even as Sam and Steve were talking animatedly next to him, those gorgeous blue eyes of his were glued to you. There was a kind of intensity in them you hadn’t seen before. Your breath whooshed from you body as he grinned at you. Trying to maintain the suggestive image your dress gave you, you managed to send a flirtatious smile his way, then turned back around to face the bar. Leaning against the counter, you knew he’d get an eyeful of your bare back. God, this was fun.

The bartender finally made his way over to you, and you ordered two tequila shots.

Nat turned to you, one eyebrow arched in surprise as she asked, “And you say I’m going hard? You can’t just down two shots right away, babe.”

“I’m not doing two shots; you think I’m stupid?” The bartender slid the shots over to you along with two lime wedges. “One is clearly for you.”

Unable to hold back a laugh, Natasha put her arm around your shoulders and pulled you into her side as she said, “Why the fuck not, let’s do it.” The two of you went through the process: salt, shot, lime. You couldn’t help but wince as you downed the harsh liquor. Of all the shots in the world, tequila probably tasted the worst. The only reason you kept going for it was the warmth it traced down your body, and you felt your muscles begin to loosen up.

“Two more,” you called over to the bartender.

“Uh, no,” Natasha shot at you, grabbing her whiskey, and pushing off the bar, “I’m good with my top shelf shit, you keep going after that gasoline if you want but I’m out.”

“C’mon, Nat,” you called out, “what am I gonna do with two shots?”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone else, babe.” She said with a wave over her shoulder.

Sighing, you turned back to the ridiculously pretty bar (seriously, how much had Tony paid for this thing?). Who else would help you look cool and sexy at a bar for your secret boyfriend?

Okay, that was the cringiest thought you’d ever had. Gross.

As the bartender slid the tequila in front of you, you steeled yourself for the nastiness that was about to happen.

“Fuck, I didn’t think this through,” you mumbled.

“Yeah, you tend to do that,” a deep voice answered on your right. Instead of being the slightest bit surprised, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d know that voice anywhere.

“Something I can do for you, Barnes?” You looked up at him from under your lashes.

“Well, it looks like you’ve got an extra shot there. Thought I could bail you out.”

“Is that all?”

Bucky shifted so that your arms were just barely touching. His hand was right next to yours, and you reached out with your pinky to lightly brush his.

“Doll, you have the gall to show up in that dress and ask what I want as if you don’t already know?”

“Sorry Buck, I’m a little slow, must be the tequila. You should probably be a little clearer.”

Putting on quite the show of reaching for one of the shots, his mouth somehow ended up right next to your ear.

“I want you.”

It was lucky everyone was so distracted and couldn’t see how you shuddered at his words. Trying to maintain brain function, you managed to take the shot with him. You were now fully facing each other. He was wearing the cockiest smirk you’d ever seen, one that would put Tony Stark to shame. You couldn’t help but respond with that same energy despite the jitteriness his three little words had reduced you to.

“Well why don’t you—”

“Hello, my friends!” A booming voice sounded between you as Thor threw a huge arm over each of you. Bucky, with his stupid super soldier strength, didn’t really have a reaction to it. You, on the other hand, stumbled a little under the weight and force of it. “It’s so good to be back with you tiny humans.”

Was…was he slurring his words?

“Thor…are you drunk right now?”

He simply laughed in response. Well, that answered that.

“Of course I am, tiny person! It can’t be a party without good Asgardian wine.”

“Wait…you have literal god wine?” Bucky, who had a look of vague irritation on his face up to this point, now looked interested. Maybe even a little excited?

“Of course, metal appendage.”

“Dude, you can’t just call Bucky ‘metal appendage’—”

“He can if he lets me have some,” Bucky interrupted.

“We have a bargain!” Thor slapped Bucky on the back before scurrying back over to where he had come from, probably to get the wine he had promised.

“Bucky, you can’t even get drunk,” you hissed, “what exactly is the point of this?”

“Since everything happened, I haven’t found any alcohol strong enough to get me drunk. I figure god wine is worth a shot.”

“Bucky—”

“When I kiss you against a wall later, I wanna be a little tipsy,” he whispered in your ear, “that cool with you?”

Unable to keep yourself from smiling again, you nodded as Thor sauntered back over. Ever since that moment a few weeks ago, right before he kissed you for the first time, asking “is that cool with you?” had become your thing.

And the idea of Bucky kissing you against a wall? Yeah, that sounded pretty good.

***

As it turns out, Asgardian wine is just as potent as Thor had promised.

For the first time in over seventy years, Bucky Barnes was certifiably drunk. It made him feel like the Bucky from all those years ago, and it was the most incredible thing. Here he was, over 100 years old, partying, and all his favorite people were here.

Including his ridiculously hot girlfriend.

Even as they both flitted around the party, Bucky and y/n still found each other’s eyes, even from across the room. They would send winks, smiles, even funny faces. All he wanted to do was be right next to her, talk and dance with her all night…

But they had agreed. They wanted to keep their relationship a secret for now, keep the attention off of them for a bit while they got to know each other in this new way.

But god damn, that dress.

Y/n in red was…indescribable. It didn’t matter what she wore, she was always the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. But in red? In this dress?

She was breathtaking.

“Buck, you breathing?”

A hand waved in front of his face, snapping Bucky’s attention back to the people around him from Y/n’s back. He had been imagining putting his hands all over that back later and had gotten more than a little mesmerized. He managed to get his eyes to refocus, finding a drunk Sam smirking right next to him and an even drunker Steve dancing next to him. But what Steve was doing couldn’t really be called ‘dancing’ per say…more like an aggressive wiggle.

“Why wouldn’t I be breathing?” Of all the things he could’ve said to get Sam’s attention off of him, that wasn’t it.

“Uh, probably because the girl you’re in love with decided to show up and show off tonight? Pretty sure you’re drooling, man.”

Despite himself, Bucky slapped a hand across his mouth, only reducing Sam to wheezing laughter. Knowing he had been caught, he rolled his eyes and grimaced a little. Of all the people to catch him, he wished it hadn’t been Sam.

“I wasn’t…staring… at y/n, I just never see her dressed up is all.”

“I never said anything about the girl being y/n.”

“…fuck.”

“LANGUAGE,” Steve yelled out, pointing a finger at his two friends before returning to his shimmying.

Turning back to him, Sam added, “Just go be with her, Buck. You’re not fooling anyone, and neither is she.”

“We’re that obvious?”

“A few weeks ago you’d at least try to hide it. Now I’m surprised you’re not jumping each other’s bones right here right now.”

“Point taken,” Bucky said, lightly slapping Sam’s shoulder before power walking over to his girl.

***

“Nat, if you don’t stop asking about Bucky and I’s relationship, I’m going to kick you,” you called over the music before taking another swig from your glass. It was no Asgardian wine, but the human stuff wasn’t half bad in your opinion. It wasn’t like you could drink the god shit, anyway. If you had even one sip, you’d be swinging from the ceiling like Miley fucking Cyrus. You were pretty drunk as it was.

“Okay, fine,” she said with a shrug as she took a sip of her whiskey, still as calm and collected as ever. “You’re almost as drunk as he is, you’ll be talking soon enough.”

“Oh? Is that your spy master plan?”

Natasha was still looking as unbothered as ever, but as she looked across the room over your shoulder, her face split into a savage grin.

“It was, but it looks like I might not need it.”

“What do you me—”

Your words were cut off as a large, warm hand enclosed around yours. Whirling around, you were suddenly face to face with the man himself. Bucky was clearly having a good time. His mouth was relaxed into the cutest smile you’d ever seen him wear, and he moved without his normal stiffness and intensity. He threaded your fingers together, smiling down at you with so much love it was a wonder Nat hadn’t said anything yet.

Looking back in front of you, ready to explain yourself, you only found empty air. Guess she’d seen all she needed to, but honestly, you really didn’t care. All you’d wanted the whole night was to be exactly where you were right now; hand in hand with the man you loved.

“We’re just kidding ourselves, doll,” Bucky called next to your ear, “Sam said we’ve been pretty obvious.”

“Nat said the same,” you answered with a sheepish smile, “kind of hard to keep my face under control when you’ve got that leather jacket on.”

“You’re blaming me?” He asked with mock indignation. “You’re the one who looks,” he gestured wildly to your whole body, “like that!”

Trying ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks, you shot back, “Like what?”

“Like the most…” he screwed his face up in the most adorable way as he searched for words, “like the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” As the last few words tumbled out of his mouth, he gazed at you with such a softness you almost melted right into the floor.

“Wanna get out of here?” You asked, finally giving up the game. It was pointless, really. Now, all you wanted to do was for your boyfriend to keep his promise and kiss you against a wall.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he answered, “Absolutely.” Without looking at a single soul, the two of you began walking as quickly as you could for the exit. You and Bucky were both leaning on each other a bit, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Stepping out into the light of the hallway, you blinked as your eyes adjusted after the dark room you’d spent the last few hours in. Bucky led you until you were right in front of the elevator, and he lazily pressed the button to go up. There was tension in the air between you, like a thread that was being pulled. Biting your lip, you stared at the doors in front of you. You knew if you so much as looked at the man next to you, you’d jump him right then and there.

The shining doors slid open, and the pair of you walked in, his strong arm still around your waist. His grip wasn’t loose in any sense of the word. Bucky kept you right next to him, even as your legs wanted to drift all over the place. You pressed the button for the residential floor.

As soon as those doors slid shut, that thread of tension snapped.

Bucky whirled you to face him, then walked you backward until you were pressed against the wall of the elevator.

“I promised I’d kiss you against the wall, didn’t I?”

He didn’t even wait for a response. His mouth was on yours in an instant, lips moving together like a dance. The kiss was slow and unhurried. You tried to bring him closer, linking your hands behind his neck and pressing yourself to him. Instead of responding in kind, he unwound your arms from around him and pinned them above your head.

Oh damn.

Okay.

No complaints here.

“You’ve been teasin’ me all night just by wearing that dress, sweetheart,” he murmured in between the kisses he trailed down your jaw, “I think it’s my turn.”

“Would it change your mind knowing I only wore this dress so you could take it off?”

The heat that bloomed in those blue eyes of his was unmistakable. As the doors opened on your floor, he swept you up into his arms and began to walk purposefully to his apartment. All the while, he kept that signature cocky smirk of his you’d come to adore.

“Bucky?” You asked once he’d walked into his unit.

“That sentence was the single most attractive thing you’ve ever said,” he murmured as he set you down. Even still, he kept you pressed against him. “But nah, I’m a patient guy. I think I’ll take my time.” He followed this by resuming his slow and sensual kisses, and you couldn’t help but melt into them.

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.

“I’ll never get tired of hearing that, doll. I love you too.”

***

[secretobsessionstuff]

hey! if you’re taking requests, can you please write 45, 46, 85 for the caretaker and 37, 45, 46, and 83 for the sickee?? Micah as the caretaker and Alexi as the sickie!

Okay this fic is set a few years in the past. It's the beginning of Micah and Alexi's relationship. It was a fun challenge to make all these numbers work lol, even if I cheated on sickee 45.

From the Caretaker list:

45. "Do you want me to stay?"

46. "I'm not going anywhere."

85. "Why are you trying to push me away? Let me help."

From the Sickee list:

37. "Thank you for taking care of me."

45. “I-I feel so sick. I-I don’t know what to do.” (I changed this one a little bit)

46. “I think I might throw up.”

83. "I don't know why I'm crying. I-I just don't feel good."

-------------------

It was remarkable what a tailored outfit did for Micah’s confidence. He normally felt like he was playing dress-up whenever he wore nice clothing because the pants were always too long, and the sleeves were too billowy for his thin arms. It gave him a lot of dysphoria when his small stature couldn’t fill out the clothes that he wanted to wear.

But that night was special because he got his dress pants and dress shirt tailored to him. It gave him the confidence for his third date with a really sweet boy.

He met Alexi a few weeks ago at a café. They went on two casual dates, and now they were trying something more serious since the first two had gone so well. Alexi made such easy conversation and wasn’t shy about talking about his passions. Micah found himself matching the energy, and pouring out his life-story. It was nice to not hold back any excitement out of fear of coming on too strong. There was something about Alexi that took away the need for small talk.

It was Alexi’s idea to dress up more formally, and it was Micah’s idea to meet at one of their houses for a home-cooked meal. It was the perfect compromise between having a fancy night out and a relaxed, private night in. Of course, Micah was excited and nervous about cooking for Alexi, but his stepdad gave him lots of advice for the meal.

Micah’s palms were sweaty when his date knocked at the door. He quickly wiped his hands on a dish towel before going to answer it. He fixed his hair obsessively, shook out the nerves at his fingertips, and opened the door with a smile.

“Hello,” he said, already feeling lame. Alexi looked so sharp in his fancy clothes. He wore a red button-up shirt with some sort of pattern that Micah couldn’t make out. He didn’t spend too much time on his clothes because Alexi’s smile stole his attention. He stepped aside to let the boy in.

“Hi.” Alexi did a little wave and immediately face palmed. Why would he wave? He felt so silly as he entered Micah’s apartment. He also felt more than a little jittery. There was a persistent ache in his belly since he woke up which he attributed to being nervous. He wasn’t terribly hungry—an unfortunate fact given that Micah was making their dinner. Still, whatever he was making smelt lovely. He hoped that he would get hungry as the night went on.

“Smells good. What are we having?”

“Baked Ziti. It’s basically the only recipe from the restaurant that I’ve tried on my own.”

“Oh yeah, you said your stepdad owns an Italian restaurant, right?”

“Yep.” Micah looked at the time on the oven. “It still needs a while before it’s ready…So uh, do you want to sit in the living room?”

“Sure, okay, yeah,” Alexi said quickly. God, was it really necessary to give three answers that mean the same thing? He didn’t know what was wrong with him only that he felt off. The achy feeling in his body threw him off. He sat down on the couch next to Micah, feeling like the butterflies in his stomach wanted to soar rather than sit. “Listen, I’m just going to say that I’m really nervous. I’m sorry if I’m acting weird.”

“Oh my God, me too. Don’t worry about it.” Micah said, the tension in his shoulders visibly drifting away. “I don’t know why. I usually feel really chill on our dates.”

Alexi shrugged. “Well, my mom always said it’s a good thing to be nervous for a date. It means you want it to go well.” Though he didn’t think an upset stomach meant that he was invested in the relationship. It probably just meant that he was putting too much pressure on himself. Or it could have been something else.

…

They talked more easily after that. Alexi seemed to have broken the ice. Despite this, he still felt weird. The nervous stomach was morphing into full-blown nausea. He hoped that Micah didn’t notice his shift in personality. He was having a good time, truly, but he was suddenly very hot and uncomfortable. And he wasn’t in the best mood for a date. More than anything, he hoped Micah didn’t hear the way his stomach gurgled. It wasn’t out of hunger which he knew for sure.

“…have you read it?

Alexi looked up after staring at nothing for a few seconds. “What?” Micah had definitely just finished talking about some book that defined him as writer, and Alexi hadn’t heard any of it. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I just zoned out. What did you say?”

Micah paused. “It’s not important.” He had noticed the dazed look in Alexi’s face and wondered if he was listening at all. Perhaps he was being boring, or talking too much about himself, or wasn’t making enough eye contact.

That was when the oven went off. Micah sighed out of relief. “The food is ready!”

It smelt delicious, but Alexi still wasn’t hungry. He didn’t think he’d be hungry for the rest of his life. He tried not to wince when Micah plopped a whole lot of rich pasta down on his plate. It weighed a ton. Alexi swallowed back a wave of nausea. “Uh, I’m just going to wash my hands before we eat. Where is the bathroom?”

“The first door on the right down the hall.”

“Great.” And Alexi left Micah sitting all alone at the table with steam rising off their plates.

Alexi did actually wash his hands, almost excessively. Perhaps he thought that washing his hands would somehow scrub away the pain in his stomach, because that made total sense.

He wasn’t thinking very straight as he stared at his pale self in the mirror. I feel so sick. I don’t know what to do, he thought as his stomach let out a nauseous whine. He wanted to have a nice meal with Micah, but he also wanted to no longer inhabit a body, especially a body that felt flooded with poison.

He also didn’t want to tell Micah how bad he felt. It was embarrassing. And he was about to ruin the date that Micah had prepared so much for.

So, Alexi decided to suck it up for this incredibly sweet boy. He could manage one dinner.

Before heading back to the table, he made sure that he looked lively. He pinched his cheeks, trying to make colour come back to them.

“Sorry for making you wait,” he said as he took his seat across from Micah.

“That’s alright. I hope you like it because I accidentally made way too much for two people.”

Alexi exhaled. Here we go.

…

He’d gotten nowhere. Not even close to clearing his plate. Micah was almost done his food, and Alexi was still working on his third bite.

Micah wondered when they decided to reverse roles. It was supposed to be Alexi who talked through each mouthful. It was supposed to be Alexi who gestured animatedly with every word. But Alexi was surprisingly quiet.

In fear of awkward silences, Micah found himself talking way more than he normally would. It got to a point where he was tired of hearing himself speak. And he was tired of having dinner with a ghost. Did Alexi even want to be here? He looked almost as if he were in pain. He also was hardly touching his food. That sent Micah spiraling down a worrisome path, telling himself that Alexi was hating every minute of the date.

“Alexi,” he began hesitantly, “is something wrong? I’m getting the sense that you don’t really want to be here.”

“What!” Alexi looked up quickly, more alert than he had been all night. This was it. He was ruining his chances. He could see by the look on Micah’s face that he was hurting the boy’s feelings. He had to fix this.

“No, no. That’s not it. That’s not it at all,” he stammered, feeling tears at the edge of his eyes. His voice was cracking. “I just feel—oh God, I don’t know. I’m so sorry.” He didn’t know what else to do but put his head in his hands as tears began to drip down his cheeks.

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay,” Micah said, taken-aback by what was happening. He’d never been on a date when the person started crying at the table. What were you supposed to do in a time like this? “I-I didn’t mean to upset you. Gosh, what did I do?”

Alexi sniffled, suddenly aware that he was probably making Micah very confused. He had to explain himself. He was also aware that his nausea was reaching its peak. “I’m sorry. I don't know why I'm crying. I-I just don't feel good.”

Micah froze. This was new. “What do you mean? Are you sick?”

Alexi nodded as he stood up. He lifted himself with shaking arms. “I think I might throw up.”

“Oh!” Micah stood up as well and came around the table to help Alexi. Now that he mentioned it, he did look very pale and sweaty. He grabbed Alexi’s arm, intending to help him down the hall. “Come on. Let’s go to the bathroom.”

Alexi felt himself being pulled as saliva filled his mouth. He knew he was going to throw up any second now, but Micah was much too close. He didn’t want his date to see him spew everywhere.

He tried to push away Micah’s hand. “No, please. I don’t want—” A wet burp made him clamp his mouth shut.

“Why are you trying to push me away? Let me help.”

Alexi swallowed something thick that hit the back of his throat. “Micah, I don’t want you to see me like this. I—”

This time it was more than a burp that cut off his sentence. His stomach lurched, filling his mouth with vomit. He couldn’t stop it from rushing past his lips and splattering on the floor in the hallway. It was actually good that Micah was there because Alexi held onto him to keep himself from falling.

“Whoa, okay” Micah said, taking a step back, but still holding up Alexi. “Alright, I’ve got you. The bathroom is right here. In we go.”

Micah helped Alexi onto his knees in front of the toilet. It was just in time for Alexi to belch up a stream of pale vomit. It splashed in the water below as Alexi gagged over the bowl.

Alexi felt horrendous. His belly was cramping and spasming beneath his hand. Even while puking up all of his stomach contents, he was still thinking about the mess he made in the hallway. He wanted to die.

But…Micah didn’t seem to care as he rubbed his back. Alexi didn’t know what he was saying but it sounded so soft and comforting.

“Micah,” he began, his voice strained from being sick.

Micah spoke before he could say anything. “I know. I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone.”

“No, wait.” Alexi held his hand up. It took all his strength. He was breathing heavily, unable to say more.

Luckily Micah guessed at what he was going to say. “Do you want me to stay?”

Alexi closed his eyes and nodded.

So, Micah sat back down and continued to rub circles on the boy’s back while he threw up more.

He threw up so much, for so long. It was a laborious process because his belly wanted to prolong his suffering. It took many small heaves until he finally felt confident to move away from the toilet bowl. He wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist.

“Are you done?” Micah asked.

“I think so,” Alexi breathed out. Any embarrassment he felt before was gone; it was replaced with overwhelming discomfort. He felt too drained to be embarrassed. And Micah’s touch was very soothing on his back. But the gentle rubbing stopped as Micah got up from the floor. “Please don’t leave me.”

Micah pouted at the sick boy on his bathroom floor. He felt a sudden wave of affection for him. “I'm not going anywhere.” He turned on the sink. “I’m only getting you some water.”

Alexi took the water gratefully. He didn’t dare drink anything, only swooshed it around in his mouth before spitting it out.

“Well, this date didn’t go as planned,” Micah said as held a cloth under warm water. He went back on his knees next to Alexi, and handed him the cloth. “You want to wipe your mouth?”

Alexi grabbed the cloth. “I hope we can try it again. Unless of course seeing me puke has obliterated any romantic feelings you might have had for me.”

Micah laughed. “Surprisingly it has not. I will gladly go on a fourth date with you.”

Alexi groaned. “Ugh, can’t we pretend our third date never happened?”

“Sure. And feel free to stay here as long as you need.”

“Thank you.” Alexi smiled and looked down shyly. “And thank you for taking care of me.”

Micah looked down at his own hands as well. They were just a couple of awkward people who would eventually not feel so awkward with each other. “I don’t mind.”

[plant-flwrs]

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

bets off // fred weasley 

masterlist!

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

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

(5k)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you?”

“Yes, thats how propositions work.”

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

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

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

“Oh god, Fred, what did you do?”

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

“Your skills?”

“-yes my skills, would you listen?”

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

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

“Long story short-”

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

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

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

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

Fred groaned, throwing his head back in annoyance.

“I’m serious!” 

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

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

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

‘Professor Sprout,

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

-Poppy’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you get if you win?”

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

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

You looked expectantly at him, waiting for his offer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ron!” she exclaimed back, offended.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You found out soon that it was. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[hamsterboos]

A Ray of Sunshine

Here's my submission for Day 1 of Rowaelin Month! Unfortunately, I doubt I'm going to be able to do every day, but this month really is bringing the TOG fandom together from what I can tell so thank you to @rowaelinscourt for organizing this <3 this is my first TOG fic so go easy on me lol it's a lot shorter than what I usually write, but I wrote it in an hour at work lmao

Word Count: 873 Read on AO3 Rowaelin Month Master list

Day 1 of Rowaelin Month Prompt: I just realized I’m desperately in love with you.

~~~

Aelin was having a horrible day.

Actually, horrible might be an understatement.

The day started bright and beautiful, without a single cloud in sight, and so she decided she’d walk down to the local cafe to get some breakfast before heading into the subway for work.

It seemed like a great idea until some idiot almost ran over her with his bike, and she spilled her coffee all over the sidewalk.

Alright, that was still fine, she could deal. Sure she’d be half asleep, but she still had her apple turnover. That was enough sugar to get her through at least the first half of the day.

Except that once she got to work, she was so busy running around dealing with random stuff at work that she wasn’t even supposed to be dealing with. She was an editor for god’s sake, not an intern running around making copies and calling printer companies! It was not part of her job description, and it was not something she wanted to spend her time doing instead of the work she actually loved.

Finally, once she got around to going back to her desk to enjoy her wonderful, sweet, decadent apple turnover, Aelin was incredibly frustrated to realize that someone had picked it off her desk.

And ate it.

Aelin collapsed into her chair, absolutely exhausted, and now she didn’t even get to eat any part of her breakfast.

But that was still fine. It was okay. She still had lunch in half an hour, and she could deal with the rest of the work day.

Not a problem.

Unfortunately, it was a problem just being able to sit down and eat. Why was it so hard to get some food into her? Apparently the people she worked with just had no courtesy or decency to let her do her job in peace. Once Aelin was finally able to sit down and do her actual work, fifteen minutes later she was being pestered by her boss about edits she had done two months ago. And then it was about giving her more work. Followed by some more urgent work. Then it was asking her to do some work that needed to be done for someone else who was on vacation.

Aelin was desperately starting to feel like she needed to quit this job considering how overworked she was, but she also needed the job, needed to pay for her apartment, her bills, her student loans.

She knew she needed all those things, but what she wanted was her best friend to tell her she’d be okay. Aelin wanted Rowan to hug her and tell her that she’d be fine, that he’d have her back no matter what, and that she’d get through this job long enough for her to find a new, better one.

Chewing on her lip in the rare moment she’d had to herself in the entire day, she decided to pick up her phone and text Rowan. He didn’t need to know that she was having a shitty day and felt worthless. His presence itself would make her feel better.

Hey, can I come over for dinner?

His response came within a minute.

Sure. I’ll see you after work?

His casual response, just knowing that she’d want to come over right after work, made Aelin’s heart swell.

The rest of the day passed by with Aelin just desperately wanting to see Rowan’s face just for something good on this trashy day.

At exactly 4:43PM, she knocked on his apartment door, and it swung open to reveal Rowan’s bright smiling face. His hair was mussled as though he had run his hand through it several times, and he had his fancy apron on. Just looking at his face was as though she’d seen a ray of sunshine after a dark and rainy day. The wafting smell of chocolate hit her soon afterwards, and tears sprang to her eyes.

“Oh my god, what happened,” he asked, his smile dropping for a look of concern as he reached out for her. He pulled her into a warm hug and closed the door behind her.

“I love you so, so much,” she sobbed out into his chest, and in that moment, she knew she meant it. She loved Rowan.

“And I love you, Aelin, but do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I’m serious, Rowan,” she responded, still burying her face into his chest, “I’ve had the shittiest day ever, and I just looked at you and everything bad disappeared. You even made me chocolate cake, and you know me better than I know myself. You’re too good for me, and I love you. Like romantically.”

Rowan huffed out a laugh, and she slowly pulled away to see why he was laughing at her, but he was only looking down at her with a bright smile and the fondest look on his face.

“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say it and mean it?”

“Um,” she sniffled, wiping tears off her cheeks, “two seconds?”

“More like two years.”

“Oh my god, why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Because I’m pretty sure you just realized it two seconds ago, and that’s okay.”

[fruitcoops]

OMG CAN YOU WRITE ABOUT COOPS SURPRISING JULIAN ON HIS BIRTHDAY? LIKE TELLING HIM THAT THEY ARE SORRY THAY CANT MAKE IT TO HIS PARTY CAUSE THEYRE SUPER BUSY BUT ACTUALLY FLYING TO WISCONSIN WITHOUT HIM KNOWING?? AND ALL OF JULIANS FRIENDS TOTALLY FANGIRLING OVER THEM??

This highkey might be one of my favorite fics I’ve ever written. I adore Julian (as you could probably tell from my header) and it’s always wonderful when I can fit him in! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

It was his birthday, and Jules was…well, honestly, kind of bummed. The string of his party hat itched the underside of his chin and he picked at his cake—his mother had made it the night before, and he had been looking forward to it all day. Now, though, it just tasted bitter.

His friends skated around with bright smiles and loud laughter, racing each other around the ice with reckless abandon in some weird version of tag that looked pretty lame. Jules had really tried to have fun, but the disappointment was crushing him.

Sorry, buddy, but we’ve got a game, Remus had said over the phone three days prior. We’ll come and see you as soon as we can, though, okay?

And Jules had said ‘okay, love you’ even though he wanted to cry a little, because he was eleven and that made him a grownup. Remus had never missed his birthday before.

A heavy hand squeezed his shoulder and he looked up from his paper plate. “Hey, kiddo, why aren’t you out on the ice?” his dad asked. He was smiling, but Jules could see the concern on his face.

He shrugged and pulled his hat off. “Takin’ a break. My legs were getting tired.”

It was a lie, and a poor one, but the bummer clouds were getting thicker and his birthday cake was tacky in his mouth. “Eleven’s a big one,” his dad tried again, sitting next to him on the bench.

“Yeah.”

“And all your friends are here.”

“Yeah. I don’t want to kill their mood, but…” He pressed his lips together and licked more frosting off his fork. It was chocolate; Remus would have loved it.

“Tell you what: I’ll tell people we’re having a second round of cake, and you can help me cut it instead of sitting here all by yourself, okay? That way nobody will get bummed out.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Jules pulled his feet out of his skates and wandered over to the table with his plate, sniffling a little.

“Hey, baby,” his mom said, giving him a quick side hug. “Are you okay?”

“I miss Re.” His voice wobbled and he cleared his throat. “But he’s got a game, so—”

“He sounds like a real loser, actually,” a new voice said drily behind him. Jules froze. “I mean, not showing up to his little brother’s birthday party? Yikes.”

“Next time you see him, you should kick him in the shin,” someone else added. There was a light smacking sound and a quiet laugh.

Jules slowly turned around.

Remus’ skates hung loose from his hand as he leaned against the wall, casual as you please; next to him, Sirius was barely hiding a smile. He raised an eyebrow when Jules looked at him. “Oh, hey, Jules. Fancy seeing you here.”

“Remus,” his mother scolded, though she didn’t sound very upset at all. “You could’ve said hello like a normal person.”

“You came,” Jules blurted, still in shock. Whispers were starting to spread out on the ice. “But—but you—you came out for my birthday?”

Remus gave him his most annoying big-brother look. “Duh.”

Jules was running before his brain even caught up and he flung himself at Remus, who dropped his skates and hoisted him into the air for a tight hug. “You came,” he repeated, suddenly close to tears as he wrapped all his limbs around his brother.

“Of course I came,” Remus said quietly, holding him just as close. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I thought you had a game,” Jules sniffled, pulling back to get a good look at his face. It didn’t seem real.

“I had to make it a surprise somehow, right?” Jules punched him in the arm. “Ow!”

“I was upset!”

“Surprise?”

“Sirius, will you be my new brother?”

Sirius snorted. “Sure, Jules, that sounds great.”

“We came all the way out here just for you to replace me?” Remus asked with fake indignance, tickling Jules’ sides. “You little rat!”

“I hate you!” Jules laughed, wiggling out of his hold. Most of his friends had gathered at the boards in a clump of shock and awe—he puffed his chest out a little. Hell yeah, that’s my older brother. “Everyone, this is my brother Remus and his fiancé.”

“That’s Sirius Black,” Devin whispered, his voice cracking. Sirius waved and his jaw dropped. “Jules, that’s the Sirius Black.”

“Cool, right?” Remus flicked his ear lightly, and he stepped on his foot. “Oh, and there’s more cake if anyone wants it.”

The rest of the cake remained untouched as ten kids mobbed the newcomers; Jules perched on his bench and laced up again, grabbing his stick and sliding onto the ice once more with a smile so wide it made his cheeks hurt. Remus ditched Sirius to get his own skates on and quickly joined him, passing a spare puck over with ease.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Jules said after a minute of short passes.

Remus’ face fell a little, all previous teasing gone. “I’ve never missed your birthday, buddy.”

“Well, yeah, but you said you had a game.” He shrugged with one shoulder and poked Remus in the thigh as he passed. “Your job kinda needs you there—”

“Jules.” He stopped short as something tugged his jersey; Remus pulled him around gently, already crouching down to his level. He looked serious in a way Jules didn’t see very often. “Hockey is never going to be more important than you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Remus gave him a look. “I need you to believe me on this one.”

“It’s your job, Re.”

“I don’t give a shit—” He wrinkled his nose in instant regret. “Don’t tell mom I said that. My job takes second priority over family. Your birthday is important to me. You are way more important to me.”

Jules’ lower lip trembled. “Okay.”

“C’mere.” Remus pulled him in for another hug and Jules scooted as close as he could. “I love you so much, Jules.”

“Love you, too, Re.”

“I’m really, really sorry for making you think I wouldn’t be here.”

“It’s alright, I’m over it. The surprise was cool as f—ow!”

Remus rolled his eyes as Jules rubbed his wounded ear. “Watch your language.”

“Fine, mom.” They pulled apart and Jules pretended not to see the dampness of Remus’ cheek that he quickly swiped away. Sirius was looking a little distressed under the onslaught of questions and gave Remus a pleading look from the bench. “I think he needs help.”

“Nah, he’s fine.” Remus grinned and blew him a kiss. Sirius pointed to something across the rink, then flipped him off as soon as Jules’ friends looked away.

Jules doubled over in laughter until a puck hit the back of his skates and nearly toppled him. He whipped around, but Remus was already skating backwards with an irritating little smile on his face. “What was that for?”

“Rule number one of hockey: don’t get distracted.”

“You little—” Jules suppressed a scream as Remus took off in the other direction, laughing at his frustration. “You can’t be mean to me on my birthday!”

“If you catch me, I’ll play goalie!” Remus called back.

Being a smart and innovative eleven-year-old, Jules found a loophole. It only took five minutes of all his friends—plus Sirius—getting in Remus’ way for him to catch up and hit the back of his knees with his stick. “I hope you brought your mouthguard,” Jules panted as they laid side-by-side on the ice, both out of breath.

Remus dissolved into laughter, and Jules wasn’t far behind. Best birthday ever, he thought as Remus clambered to his feet and headed toward the goal posts.

[reidgraygubler]

bowling shoes (franklin/reader)

Title: Bowling Shoes

Request:  yes! It was requested by the wonderful @sunlight-moonrise​​

Couple: franklin (mgg’s role in beginner’s luck)/fem!reader

Category: smut

Content Warning:  SEXUAL CONTENT (degradation, praise kink, semi-public sex, orgasm denial, little bit of cockwarming ;), spanking, heavy petting, slight humiliation (i think), spitting, hair pulling, groping, creampie/unprotected sex, fingering, penetrative sex), dom!franklin, kissing/making-out, swearing, implied age gap (but they never specify Franklin’s age. So idk) (if i missed anything that needs to be tagged, PLEASE let me know!!)

Word Count: 4,224

Summary:  Reader is new in town and works at her grandfather’s bowling alley, where some people spend late nights practicing for the town-wide bowling competition.

A/N: The third day of my seven days of seven fics! This particular one shot has been sitting in my wip list since September 2020. And I just finally decided to write it. This was written with matthew gray gubler’s character from the short film Beginner’s Luck. If you haven’t seen it yet I highly recommend watching it bc it’s amazing and I love Franklin. I hope you’re all enjoying the 7 days 7 fics! I really cranked it out on all of these oneshots! Here is the masterlist for that! And here’s my main masterlist! Thank you all for the love and support!  

{***}{***}{***}

Little Falls… I never understood this town's love for bowling… and I probably never will… It’s probably a good thing that I moved from Little Falls before I got old enough to actually learn how to bowl, mostly because if I did, and I didn’t bowl, I’d probably be chased out of town with a crowd of pitchforks and torches.

So, it’s probably an even better thing that I just work at the town’s precious bowling alley. But, to be fair… This alley has been in the family since it opened. 

Long story short, I hate bowling. I just needed extra cash, and my grandfather just so happens to pay me extra. Not because I’m fami-No that’s exactly why...

“You are busting my balls here!” A man shouted from the lanes. I furrowed my eyebrows and looked in that direction, looking for the owner of the shouts. I gently placed the pair of shoes down on the counter before walking around to the lanes. “You can’t be serious!” A guy wearing a yellow bowling shirt was shouting down the lane he was standing on. 

“Is… Is everything okay?” I leaned against the half-wall beside me. I propped my arms on top of the wall as I looked at him. I looked across the tables behind the lanes and noted there was only one other person, who was watching the man with such intent I was sure they’d kill him. “It’s just you playing,” I half-laughed at the guy. He spun around on his toes and pointed a finger at me. I tried to not take it as accusatory, but everything in my body was telling me he meant it as such.

“I would have gotten that pin down if it wasn’t for you,” he half-shouted at me. I lifted my hands as some form of surrender as I stepped down to the lanes. The guy in the yellow bowling shirt looked at me and cocked his head. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just came down here to see if everything was alright… And if it was, I was just going back to work… Cleaning smelly rental, bowling shoes,” I gestured back towards the counter where a pile of rental shoes was sitting, waiting to be cleaned. “I just heard all the shouting down here and wanted to make sure someone wasn’t fighting with the balls,” I shrugged as I looked up at him. My joke about the balls was only mildly humorous if you knew that there were only 3 people in total in the alley. Myself, the angry stranger, and his unusual friend.

Glasses that kinda reminded me a little of Jeffery Dahmer sat on the tip of his nose, and just under his nose was a porn-stache. And the way he styled his hair just looked like a mop sitting on his head. But there was something, I don't know, attractive (I guess it was attractive) about this man. A certain handsomeness that I couldn’t exactly describe. 

“No, no, no one was fighting with the balls,” he spoke as he stepped closer to me. He looked down at me with a smile before resting both his hands on my shoulder. I sighed deeply as I stared up at him. “Now, go, run along… You said you have rental shoes to clean,” he smiled as he turned me around to face the 3 steps behind us. 

“Hold on,” I stepped away from him and turned back to face him. I had to crane my neck up to meet his stare, him being nearly a foot taller than me. “I can easily kick you out of here,” I scoffed as I looked at his shirt, finally noticing the patch sewn into the pocket of his shirt. The name Franklin was stitched into the patch with black thread in a fancy script. “Franklin,” I looked up at him and smiled. The cocky and smug expression on his face faltered for a moment as he looked at me. 

“Oh, aren’t you’re so cute,” he brought his hands to rest on my cheeks before squeezing them together, pushing my lips out. “You’re new in town, aren’t you?” he asked as he cocked his head to look down at me. I couldn’t exactly answer with my words, so I just nodded lightly. My eyes never left his face, and his never left mine.

“There’s just one thing you’re missing then. I own this place. This bowling alley... Is mine,” he kept his voice low as he spoke and the smugness returning, “Do you understand, Sunshine,” he asked, the condescension in his tone really coming out with the pet name he used. I tried to laugh and shake my head before I pulled away from his grasp. I stumbled back, nearly falling over the steps behind me.

“Since when are you my grandpa?” I asked, cocking my head to my shoulder. I could feel a teasing smile grow on my lips as I looked at him. His face shifted from being very smug to being shocked. “Yeah, bet you didn’t see that one coming… Did ya, Franklin,” I smiled at him. 

Franklin stepped back away from me but kept his stare on my face. “You’re not Hank’s grandkid. I would know when his grandkid would be here,” he pointed at me as he backed away from me. I snickered and shrugged.

“Well, you’d be wrong,” I smiled as I folded my arms over my chest. Franklin looked over his shoulder at his companion, seeking some sort of backup. But it was clear that she had no intentions in answering, she was far too busy just admiring him. How did he not see this as uncomfortable and wrong? 

“Aw, now you’re intimidated by the bowling alley girl? I don’t even bowl,” I scoffed before pulling my eyes off him, “I just work here,” I laughed. Franklin looked genuinely offended by my statement. Again, I don’t understand this town’s love for bowling.

“I’m sorry… What did you just say?” he looked at me and furrowed his eyebrows. Oh, I really did offend him… Do I feel sorry? Not really...

“Oh, yeah, you heard that right. It’s stupid. And, frankly, Franklin, I don’t understand how a town so quaint is so obsessed with throwing a ball at some plastic things,” I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. He stepped closer to me, and for the briefest of moments, I wasn’t sure what he was going to do. And suddenly a tension was in the air between us. It was suffocating. “Did I make you mad? Did I piss poor Fwankwin off,” I furrowed my eyebrows and pouted, "Did I huwt your feewings," my head falling back as I broke into a fit of laughter.

“Be quiet,” Franklin scoffed as he stared at me. I felt my smile become a little smug as I looked up at him. 

“Oh? Really? Why don’t you make me?” I shrugged and stepped closer to him. We were so close, breathing each other’s air. One step from either of us and our chests would be pressed together. Our toes, however, were touching. His rented bowling shoes barely standing on my canvas shoes. 

That was when the air tensed even more. But, the level of tension shifted from an awkwardness… to a certain awkward-sexual tension. I personally loved it because he’s a dick. Men like him need to be messed with. Plus, I’m bored...

“Is that what you want me to do?” his voice was lower than before. My smile fell away and I swallowed roughly. I could feel my heart in my throat, cutting off any words I wanted to say. “Oh, I see how it is. All that snark and attitude is fake. Because the second someone… An older man, maybe, says something… It goes away,” he smirked as he slowly brought a hand to my face. I went to move my face away from his touch, but failed when he forced me to look at him.  

“You’re a brat,” he whispered as he kept his eyes on me. A shiver went down my spine and I had to press my legs together, slightly shifting my feet. I stared at him with wide eyes, feeling my breathing pick up slightly. 

And the moment was ruined before I even got the chance to say something. It seemed as if we both had forgotten something. Rather, someone. 

“We should get going, Franklin,” a voice asked from behind him. 

“Fuck,” he muttered as he closed his eyes and pulled his hand from my face. It was obvious we both forgot that someone else was here. We were both so involved with each other that we just forgot about his companion. After a brief moment of awkward silence, he opened his eyes and looked at me, sighing deeply before speaking.

"I'm gonna be here late. You should just go home," Franklin spoke to his companion but kept his eyes strictly on me. His friend looked up at him like he was some sort of celebrity. I wasn’t exactly sure why she was staring at him like that. He wasn’t a god or anything. Unless he was, then I’d be screwed.

"It's okay. I can wait,” she smiled as she longingly looked at him. I looked back at Franklin before nodding to his friend. I’m starting to think she wasn’t even a friend of his… just a creepy and overly-devoted fan. I don’t think Franklin even noticed her obsession. “I’ll always wait for you, Franklin,” she murmured. I shifted on my foot before I stepped back.

“Bomber,” he spoke, turning to look at her. He looked down at her, his eyes telling her to leave. I only know that because Bomber (I suppose that’s her name) gathered her things and quickly left the alley. “Sorry, now where were we, Sunshine?” 

“Your friend seems nice,” I muttered, looking away from him for a brief moment. Franklin scoffed out a laugh before shaking his head.

 “She’s not a friend, just a teammate,” his voice was low as he brought a hand back to my face. Part of me was expecting him to be gentle, and I’m not really sure why I thought that. So when he jerked my head back up to look at him, I was left in shock. “But, that wasn’t where we left off. Bomber’s gone now,” he dropped his head down and looked at me through his eyelashes. 

“Which means we’re alone now,” I whispered as I kept my eyes on him. He smiled and nodded lightly before bringing my face closer to his.

“Now you’re getting it,” he returned the whisper before harshly pressing his lips to mine. I couldn’t help but moan as he pulled me closer to his body. It was so hard to keep my focus on the world around us. My knees carefully buckled beneath me. If it weren’t for Franklin, I probably would have fallen to the ground. He stood his ground firm, like he was a brick wall in the wind, keeping me upright as I almost fell to the ground. 

He moved his face away from mine, but we were still close enough to feel each other’s breath. Franklin moved his free hand to my hip before carefully pushing it past the waistband of my pants. My body shifted slightly, trying to get more of his touch against me.

“The… The door,” I whispered, my eyes going to the door. Although, I truthfully didn’t care too much about the door and it being unlocked. The bowling alley closes in 5 minutes anyways.

“Who cares about the fucking door,” he muttered. I instantly looked back at him, feeling a whimper work its way out of my mouth. Franklin smiled as he moved his hand against the flimsy cotton blocking his hand from where I wanted it most. 

“Please,” I whispered, moving my hips against his hand. I hated the way he smiled. Mostly because it only further turned me on.

“Ohh, you’re such a needy slut. So wet and I’ve barely done anything,” he whispered as he squeezed my cheeks again. “You’ll get what you want, in due time,” he smiled. He pushed my underwear to the side and carefully moved his fingers between my folds. I couldn’t help myself as I ground down on his hand.

“Franklin,” I whimpered, my eyebrows furrowing slightly. He smirked, watching as I struggled for a moment. His finger slowly moving around the sensitive bud at the apex of my legs. My hands quickly held his arms, I was worried I’d fall if I didn’t hold onto him. My legs and knees became more and more wobbly as time passed.  

“Don’t cum till I tell you you can, Pretty Girl,” he whispered and pouted, “how about you open that pretty little mouth of yours, Sunshine,” he whispered, moving one of his hands to rest on my chin. I widened my eyes and took a deep breath.

I kept my eyes on him, a shaky breath leaving me, as I slowly opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out. Franklin smiled slightly before holding my cheeks and spitting right onto my tongue. He nudged my mouth shut, forcing me to hold his spit in my mouth for a moment. I had to force myself not to gag as I held his spit before swallowing it. 

“What a good little whore,” Franklin cooed, cocking his head to his shoulder. I took a shaky breath as his movements in my pants picked up pace. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he looked at me. I wanted to have a snarky reply, I really did. But I swear to god, my mouth and body betrayed me because an honest to god moan came from me. 

“Oh, you certainly did enjoy that,” he laughed as his movements in between my legs quickened. I looked up at him with wide eyes as a familiar tension grew in my abdomen.

But instead of saying anything else, he just put his mouth over mine, swallowing whatever sounds emitted from my mouth. He smiled, clearly enjoying my mild suffering. 

My body struggled to move, almost missing the sign of Franklin moving. On wobbly legs, my feet carried me backwards, and with Franklin's guidance, up the steps. My arms were wrapped around his neck to keep close to him. 

I was so close, I could feel the tension about to snap within me. The noises that were coming from me were becoming more desperate the closer I got to the snap. Franklin didn't seem bothered by my sounds at all. In fact, he was amused. 

He was so amused, that when he pulled his hands from my pants and pushed me over the counter, he laughed when I cried out. I wasn't sure the sound was from annoyance from him stopping, or from shock from being pushed down over the counter. His hand was firmly placed on my back, keeping me in place.

“What was that for!?” I shouted, trying to stand back up, only to be forced back down by Franklin, “You better do something better than leaving me high and dry! I swear to God!” I shouted as I wiggled my butt into his crotch. A certain hardness pressed into my butt and leg, causing me (and Franklin) to hold back a groan. Franklin’s hand was still around my waist, planted firmly on my hip to hold me against him. “Please, just fuck me already! Fuck!” I shifted my feet a bit and tightly pressed my thighs. 

“Oh, no you don’t,” Franklin laughed as he shoved his knee between my legs, blocking his foot between mine to keep my legs apart more, “If you’re going to finish, you’re gonna finish on my cock. You got that, Sunshine?” he groaned as he pressed his front into my butt more. I bit my lips together, nodded and whined, hoping that was a good enough answer. “Uh huh, use your words, Sunshine. Do you understand that?” he asked as he leaned closer to my ear.

“Yes! Yes, I understand! Please,” I whimpered as his grip loosened on my hip and moved to the button of my jeans. I let out a deep relieved sigh as my jeans fell to the ground around my ankles. Although my moment of relief and excitement was cut short by a loud crack in the air, and a sudden pain on my bottom. 

“Fuck!” I gasped once I finally regained the ability to talk and breathe. My chest began heaving as my body started to get more worked up. The sudden smack on my ass went straight to my core, causing me to involuntarily moan. Franklin laughed lightly, and I could just see him shaking his head in amusement.

“What do you want, Sunshine?” Franklin asked, his voice low, lower than before. I swallowed roughly before lifting my head slightly.

“Fuck me,” I whispered, trying hard to look over my shoulder at him. His glasses were slipping down his nose, and his hair was covering his eyes. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth and swept across his lower lip.

“Wrong,” he muttered before striking my butt again. A pleased shriek fell from my lips as I dropped my head down to the counter. “What do you want,” 

“Franklin, please,” my words were soft as my breathing got rougher, “Fuck me, please, do… Do whatever you-you want… To me,” my statement was punctuated by another strike on my ass. A mix of a cry and a moan escaped my lips as he gently rubbed the sore spot on my bottom. But it was only a moment before he smacked my other butt cheek. 

“Do it again! Please,” I pulled my lower lip between my teeth. I waited for his hand to make contact with my bare bottom again, but instead, I got nothing. I sucked in a deep breath before letting out a soft whimper, “Please,” I begged as I swayed my hips slightly from side to side. I hoped my begging would have given me what I wanted. But at this point, I’m not sure what I wanted more, to be fucked by him, or to be spanked by him over, and over again.

After he spanked my butt for the 6th time, Franklin’s hand grazed over each cheek before lightly dragging his fingers over my core. 

“You’re so wet, Sunshine,” he whispered as he moved his fingers over my cunt. Any response I thought I had gone out the window when he pushed two fingers into my entrance. So, I guess my response came in as a moan. “Fuck,” he groaned with pleasure.  

I was in trouble. He knew that too. The way he was playing with me, toying with me to get even the slightest reaction. Trying to get me as close as possible, without actually getting me over the edge. But whenever he curled his fingers just right, or just slightly touched my clit. 

“I-I’m so close,” I cried, my body moving closer to him. Franklin laughed again as he pulled his hand away from my body. This was the first time tonight that he wasn’t touching me. His hands were away from me, and as I tried to move closer to him I found nothing.

“Stay still, I want to remember this moment,” Franklin muttered as he rested a hand on my lower back, “Are you ready, Sunshine,” he asked, his tone seemed gentle. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Mmm-hmm, yes,” I nodded, feeling my hair move around before finally falling around my face. My body shivered as the sound of his zipper went down. And my body jerked once his hands were on my hips. 

I folded my arms on the counter. But what I should have done was brace myself against it in a better way. My body’s excitement was getting the better of me, and I could feel myself stray from the counter, and slowly towards his body.

“Stay still,” he muttered as he pushed me closer to the counter. My lungs ceased to function as I felt him rub the head of his cock against my slit. I choked back a moan and pressed  my lips together. And then he slowly began pushing into my entrance.

“Oh god,” I cried, pressing my face into my arms. 

“Name’s Franklin, but God works just fine,” he laughed behind me as he slowed his entrance. I gasped as he stopped, before slamming fully into me in one go. I couldn’t stop the shout that came from the pit of my stomach.

Once we were both used to each other, he started moving, his hips quickly finding a rhythm we were both pleased with. The silent room was quickly occupied by the grunts or moans from its only two occupants, and the sound of skin hitting skin.

I slowly lifted my head, looking out at the bowling alley. Is it bad that I didn’t think that this was weird or bad? That I was being fucked over the counter by a guy I just met? What would my grandfather think if he ever knew about this? Good thing he was never going to find out.

Franklin wrapped my hair around his hand before pulling me back up so my back was flush against his chest. His movements stilled, his hips pressed against mine as he stayed totally in me. My body froze like ice as I tried to take a deep breath. My senses were suddenly overwhelmed, and I honestly loved it. 

“Fuck,” I cried, pushing my hips against him to get some sort of relief. But I only groaned as he wrapped an arm around my waist to keep me still as well. “Please,”

“So greedy, so filthy,” Franklin groaned as he buried himself deeper into me. I whimpered as I bit my lips. The bitter, metallic taste of blood found its way to my tastebuds. “How does that feel? Does it feel good,” his voice was so low, nearly a growl in my ear. I sucked in a deep breath of air, slowly turning my face to look at him. “Just holding my cock in you?” he asked before pressing his lips harshly to the side of my face. 

“I… I do…” I spoke quickly and in a harsh whisper. My muscles clenched around him, wanting something to give me help for my finish. While Franklin kept his lips pressed to the side of my face, while his hands were otherwise preoccupied. One hand was holding one of my breasts, gently kneading at it. While the other was between my legs, slowly moving around my sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Fuck, please move,” I whimpered, pressing my shoulder into his shoulder a bit more. Franklin removed his hand from my chest before gently pushing me back over the counter. I let out a pleased moan once he started moving his hips again. It only took a matter of moments before the tension in me snapped, sending me over the edge. My vision turned white, and my hands balled into fists, my nails would cause indentations in my palms once my hands relaxed.

And, after a few more faulty thrusts into me, Franklin finished close behind me. His body hunched over mine, his hands holding himself up on the counter beside me. Neither of us wanted to move, still trying to calm down from what just happened. But also, the mess to follow once he finally stepped away from me. 

“I didn’t know I needed that,” I truthfully stated. Franklin laughed before standing upright. I’d be lying if I said I wanted him to step away from me. So when he eventually did, I held back the whimper. 

“Paper towels?” he asked as he fixed himself back into his pants. I swallowed roughly as I blindly pointed towards where I was cleaning the rental bowling shoes. He stepped away from me, going to grab the things he sought after. 

The mixture of the two of us slowly leaked down my inner thigh, and I just knew that mess would not be fun to clean, now or later. When Franklin returned and wiped a damp paper towel up my thigh, I jumped. 

“Did you enjoy that?” I asked as he helped me stand up straight. My legs and knees were so shaky, I almost fell. He wrapped his arms around me to keep me upright. I only struggled a little bit to pull my jeans and underwear back up, but I was very relieved when they were back around my waist.

“I had a great time,” he laughed. I swallowed roughly before stepping back away from him. I hoisted myself up so I was sitting on the counter, only to let out a sharp cry and jump off the counter. How the fuck did I forget about the pain on my ass?

“Did it feel like winning?” I asked, feeling a smile grow on my lips. Franklin looked up at me with a sly smile, cocking his head to his shoulder.

“I always win in this bowling alley, Sunshine,” he muttered as he stared at me. I blinked slowly. “Except for that one time. But every time after… Always a win,”

if you want to be a part of a taglist or have any comments about this one shot, let me know here

[minty-malfoy]

reading between the lines

• pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

• summary: draco takes you on a date that involves lots of hand holding and a cozy bookshop.

• request: Hi! I was wondering if you could write a Draco malfoy imagine where he and the reader are dating, and he takes her for a hogsmeade date at a bookshop, because she is a bookworm, and they pick books for each other and he pays for everything?

• word count: 2.9k

a/n: no thoughts head empty just draco fluff. this is meant to be a breather after all the angsty love triangle fics i wrote for this boy

oh & this would've been out way sooner if I stopped being too much of a perfectionist (which I did like midway) so yeah I'm finally putting it out and just hoping for the best. my writing style had a weird identity crisis when I was working on this, but let's pretend it didn't. enjoy!

"Cold, isn't it?"

You look up at the voice's owner, only to catch a mixture of sympathy and a terribly smug I told you so on his pretty face.

Despite your scoff, you know he's right, and so does he. The chilly autumn air was penetrating through the fabric of your coat, mercilessly tickling the skin underneath; feeling like an in between that's neither as icy and cold as winter, nor as warm and friendly as summer. Regardless, it's something that your boyfriend, whom your fingers are laced with, doesn't seem to like.

"C'mere," he finally grumbles, tugging you closer towards him. "Merlin, (y/n), couldn't have underdressed more than this, could you?" he says bitterly, but his eyes display the complete opposite. You've learned to recognize the glint of affection in his orbs quite easily by now.

"I was in a hurry!" you exclaim with a wide grin that betrays your stern excuse. "And you don't have to be so rude and mean about it."

"Well, pardon me for being against the idea of my girlfriend freezing out in this weather. Now enough of that, give me your hands," he orders, because the only other thing Draco would be against is the idea of arguing with you, especially when it's over such trivial things. This was just his way of deflating the situation.

You eye him curiously as his hands rub into yours, enveloping them completely with his own. Then when he catches you staring, a small smirk finds its way onto his lips. Suddenly he's lifting one of your hands to his face, holding it right under his mouth before placing a few soft breathy kisses there. Even with the fabric of your glove in between, you can still easily feel the warm contact of his lips.

You can't tell whether it's due to the cold air that a blush paints itself on Draco's cheeks, but you decide not to think about it, because now you're looking away to hide a blush of your own.

Both of you continue walking with hands still entwined, letting the air glide around your bodies softly. It's a complete juxtaposition of the ecstatic impatience pulsing through your veins, all contained behind your soft smile that Draco doesn't need to point out or question. He knows you're excited, and he knows the reason perfectly well.

You've been giddy ever since he proposed taking you on a bookshop date. After all, it involved two of the things you loved most: Draco Malfoy, and your undying passion for reading. It was no secret how often Draco found you deeply engrossed in a book, without fail making him feel awestruck and simultaneously envious. Not that he would ever admit he got jealous over an inanimate object, of course, and least of all to you.

Deep down, Draco's more than happy to see the joy in your eyes when you're rereading one of your favorite books, or the cheerfulness in your smile after picking up a new one. He loves you and your hobby all the same.

When you finally make it to the bookshop, you practically have to hold back from stampeding directly into it, pursing your lips into a line to contain your enthusiasm. This, of course, doesn't go without Draco's notice, and you don't mind the chuckle he sends your way. You're far too occupied with the thought of gliding your fingers over the eclectic book collections.

He pulls you inside gently while eyeing your reaction the entire time, and frankly, he can't help but melt at the way your eyes light up in childlike wonder, the way you take in the familiar scent of parchment, and the way you finally turn to him with an uncontainable grin.

"I have a proposal to make," you announce, unaware of the way your grin makes his heart skip a bit.

"Should I be worried?" he smirks.

"We should pick a book for eachother!"

Draco thinks over the idea in his head for a moment or two, finding it hard to deny that it was rather pointless to him. Neither of you are sure what the other would like, and for the most part, his concerns are true. But then again, it's the way your smile brightens up at the idea, coupled up with his curiosity as to what you'd possibly pick for him, that ultimately leads him to accept the suggestion.

You give his hand a light squeeze before finally pulling away and parting to another section of the bookshop. Draco's left to stare at his empty hand with an obvious frown. Maybe he shouldn't have agreed to this, he thinks, as he's missing the contact already. All he wants is to have you nearby, to see the enthusiasm in your face from each book that you pull out. But when his eyes meet yours in the far off corner of the bookshop, he smiles tenderly, and decides to let you be. There's always more time for physical affection later.

Back in your spot in the bookshop, you're already eyeing the countless racks of books in wonder, roaming over every cover and title curiously. For once, you're somewhat thankful to have time and space to yourself from the blonde slytherin. To select a book for him, you would have to be methodical and punctilious. Neither are ever easy when he's around, when it feels like your rational thinking is all turned into mush. Hence, rather than wasting a single second, you immediately focus on the task at hand.

For a brief moment, you wonder if Draco had already deduced the type of book you'd get him, considering how obvious it is by the section you instantly went towards.

Non-fiction, the factual informative reading that might suit his tastes and interests. Something under astronomy seems to make the most sense, although then again, you assume he already knows most there is to know under that natural science. School related studies like potions and transfiguration cross your mind as well, albeit briefly, because you're not sure what good it would be to give someone a book on something they're already quite good at.

You toss your thoughts back and forth as your fingers fumble over multiple books, hoping one of them could strike you with a burst of inspiration. But it isn't until a peculiar idea lights up like a light bulb in your head. You didn't necessarily have to give Draco something he would like, as long as your choice would be meaningful and thoughtful.

That's exactly how you make up your mind and gingerly pull out a certain book with a content smile, keeping it tucked under your arm as you continue to browse the selection for a few books for yourself.

"All done, love?"

You spin around in one swift motion, quickly hiding the book you chose for him behind your back, although it wasn't the easiest thing to do when you had a couple other in your hold.

"What do we have here?" he cheekily tries to catch a peek, but you're already backing away spontaneously.

"It's a surprise!" you squeal, and Draco already has his hands held out innocently, chuckling slightly when he says, "Alright, alright. Now let's go purchase all these books."

You follow him to the cashier where you hand over all the items you've been holding. You reach for your purse in the bag you had with you, rummaging around for it with your fingers. But when you finally pull it out with a triumphant smile, you find that Draco has beat you to it, and he's already paying for all the books you chose.

You give him a look that says that's not fair, but you know it's just one of his many ways of showing his adoration for you.

He picks up the paper bags and begins heading towards the exit, where he's stopped midway by a kiss on the cheek. In other words, your little way of thanking him.

"keep doing that and I'll end up buying you this entire bookshop," he tells you in a half joke, betraying the fact that deep down he's rather serious about the idea. Draco Malfoy had come to a point where spending money was the least of his worries when it came to you.

"Tempting," you hum. "but you know I'd rather do it for free." you get up on your tiptoes again and plant a second kiss on his cheek, as if to prove your point. His hand reaches for the spot with an affectionate look directed your way; not entirely used to receiving the loving words and gestures that you give him.

"There's another bookshop nearby. Fancy giving it a look?" he asks with a wink.

You let out a faux gasp, smacking his shoulder playfully, "If you want more kisses, all you have to do is ask! And besides, I'll make sure to give you lots of them when we get back."

He smiles widely, leaning closer to whisper in your ear, "Well, I'll make sure you stay true to your word on that."

The two of you giggle as you finally walk back out into the outdoors, where the cold air greets you before anything else could. You're trying your best not to shiver, mainly out of knowing it might ignite a second wave of Draco's lecturing. Not that he'd notice, really, he's far too busy staring at that pretty smile of yours and how much he wants to capture it with the matching one on his face.

And he almost would have if you didn't snap him out of his thoughts, reaching for a specific book and pulling it out for him to see. It didn't take much to figure out what you were doing, so he grabbed a book of his own before you both exchanged the two items.

"How did you know what I'd like?" you ask him, gazing at the hardback under your fingers, feeling the texture you've become familiar with against your skin. But when Draco doesn't respond, you take a glance at him with a raised brow.

"Romance?" he blinks in confusion a few times, struggling to hide the surprise at your choice of what was, frankly, not his cup of tea. He's not entirely sure on what to say, so you fill in the silence for him.

"I know it doesn't suit your tastes, but I thought it would be nice to get you something I like instead. Kind of like showing you a part of me that you'll only understand through things like books."

He looks between you and the book, processing the explanation that you gave him. Until finally, his signature smile is back on his face and he says, "I won't promise that I'll like it."

In moments like these, it was easy to read between the lines, when Draco showed his love through actions much more than words. "I won't promise that I'll like it" rather meant "I'm willing to give it a shot only because it means something to you" and it held a larger amount of affection than he let on.

"What?" Draco asks, noticing the stupid lovesick grin decorating your face.

"Oh, nothing. You're adorable."

He raises a challenging brow to match his response, "I think either menacing or charming is far more suitable. Adorable is far off the list." but you still notice the blush on his cheeks. It's not that hard to miss, honestly, with the color of his skin.

"I stand by my statement."

Draco nearly snorts at this, already thinking of an alternative counter argument. One quickly comes to mind, "Try telling that to someone like Weasley. Bet he'd puke before he could even begin proving you wrong."

You roll your eyes, "Well, he's not the one you're snogging or taking on bookshop dates, is he?"

Draco sucks in a sharp breath, stuck between finding it useless to continue the disagreement while also grimacing at the sudden image of him snogging Ron Weasley, likely a potential nightmare fuel to haunt him in his sleep.

"Please never mention that thought ever again," he begs you before switching the conversation to a lighter topic. "Where would you like to head to now, my dear?"

You already have an idea in mind, and you have the feeling Draco would like it just as much.

• • •

And like it he does, although that word is nowhere close to describing the fondness he feels in the moment; having you tucked in between his legs with your back against his chest, the both of you hidden in a spot beside the Black Lake where no one would be around to disrupt.

You melt into him, feeling every intake of air that enters his respiratory, eliciting the soft rise and fall of his chest. You feel every thud of his heartbeat against your skin and every single vibration of his occasional humming.

His free hand is wrapped around your waist to pull you closer into him, where his thumb is absentmindedly rubbing your skin every now and then. It all turned reading into a nearly impossible task, which was a first for someone like you.

"How's the book?" you ask him in hopes of a distraction— which you earn far too easily. Instead of the book in your hands, you're now fixated on the way Draco's lids flutter when he blinks at you, and the way he licks his lips that have gone dry from the crisp air.

"Underwhelming," he begins. "These two idiots are clearly in love, and it would've all been over by the first chapter if either of them made a move."

Draco had thought that this comment was enough to make you attempt reasoning with him; to defend the fiction novel he was reading. What he did not expect, however, was to hear you giggle, bright and clear as day.

He looks at you in confusion, hoping to get handed an explanation.

"You do realize that's exactly how we were back then?" you utter, looking into his grey eyes once again. Both of you take a moment to recall the memory, smiling silently at the image of two clueless lovesick idiots wondering if the other liked them just as much.

"Hm, I suppose if you put it that way." Draco finally affirms. His fingers begin reaching for yours, where both meet in a loving entanglement. "Honestly, (y/n), how was I supposed to know you fancied me when all you did was bloody look away?"

"That's only because I was too nervous to look at you!" you huff out. "I'm beginning to think I should get you more of those romance novels."

You don't hear a reply, but you feel the smile in his lips as he presses soft wet kisses into your skin, followed by the hot breaths that are a contrast to the freezing air. Draco notices this fact from the tiny shivers of your body, and he begins to pull away gently.

"Come now, love, we should head back inside before it gets too cold."

You pout at his offer; enjoying yourself in the current activity far too much, even if you've left the reading part of it unattended. Having Draco's arms around you with your fingers laced together was all that mattered.

Your lover frowns at your reaction, wishing you weren't so stubborn when the cold is biting your skin, but he makes sure to vocalize a second offer; one he knows you wouldn't refuse, "I could read to you in my room if you'd like."

And that's all it takes for you to beam an appreciative grin at him.

"And someone would have to warm up that body of yours. Can't exactly do that out here," he adds, referring to the darkening sky and the decreasing temperature enveloping your bodies. But you seemed to have misread his statement, or perhaps you were purposefully trying to tease him. Either way, a smirk was sitting on your expression that didn't go unnoticed.

"Not in that way, love," he drawls out, letting out a small laugh that vibrates into your skin. "Unless that's what you'd like?"

Your hand immediately comes into contact with his chest in the form of a playful smack, although you can't hide the amused smile on your face. In turn, Draco dramatically gasps out, "I've been wounded!"

For a moment, all that exists is the sound of your laughter coming together like a muddled up choir and the feeling of fingers wrapped together. When the laughter dies down, and you're finally brought back into the present, you pull Draco into a warm hug. You savor the scent of his familiar cologne and the sound of his thudding heart, wishing you could stay that way for the slightest bit longer.

Although it takes a few seconds for him to wrap his own hands around your frame, when he does, it feels nothing short of perfect. His head rests in the junction between your neck and shoulder, where you can feel each of his warm breaths stroke against your skin.

"We should go on these bookdates more often," he suggests, and with the happiest smile you tell him, "I'm not against that idea."

draco taglist — @arossebyanyothername @kawaii-angelanne @thefandomplace @yuosmi @bbeauttyybbx @mywellspringoflife @slytherinsunrise @avatarbeeb @scarlet-says-hi @lunars