#oc: Swiftness

[cynth1c]

Babe help I made my whole ass English final about my stupid ass wolf ocs.

It's 19 fucking pages, 4000+ words.

My longest ever essay before this was 11 pages and that was waaaay too much for an 11th grade English assignment. I know it's college now but we were expected to do 3-5 pages.

Anyways these were the two family trees I made for it... to show my progression over the last 7 years (2016 to 2023), or 11 years old to 18 years old.

[myladysapphire]

You belong with me

you and jace were childhood friends, you never left eachothers side growing up, but that all changed once you both went off to university.

CW: MDI, 18+, smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, angst, jealousy, unrequited love (kinda), love confessions, not proofread!

word count: 5,896

modern Jace x fem!reader

Masterlist

a/n based of taylor swifts you belong with me, lyrics and music video.i also have very little knowledge of american uni or football, but i tried my best though!

You and Jace had grown up, side by side. Your mothers had been the best of friends, and so naturally you both were also. For your entire lives you knew everything about each other, your traits your habits, you knew each other better than you knew yourselves. You made every decision together, especially the decision to go to Dragonstone university together.

And that decision changed everything.

It wasn’t a surprise that Jace became so popular, he always had been. Always so able to draw a crowd and make friends in any situation.

And you, you had always been one to take a backseat. Happy in the friends you had, and never one to put yourself out there as he did.

And sadly, that seemed to be your first mistake.

He had joined the football team, finding new friends and a new crowd quickly.

You stuck to your old friends. Making small efforts to know the endless crowds of people at university.

And so, he and you started to spend less time together, and more and more time apart.

And then he got a girlfriend.

Sara Snow.

The cheer captain.

And the sister of his new best friend, Cregan Stark.

And suddenly you weren’t apart of his life anymore. You had found out he had a girlfriend from sitting on the bleachers at one of his games and seeing her run towards him and shove her tongue down his throat.

As time went on, your texts to one another became less and less, your replies delayed, and sporadic, and his ever more so.

Your study sessions stop, nights in together became nights in apart.

It hurt, you had loved him for so long, as a friend and a lover. Not that he knew. All you could do no was stare in envy as you lost your best friend and never even got a chance to say goodbye.

That year was a strange one, you now watched each other from the outskirts, you didn’t know each other every thought or where they were at all times.

Ther person you looked to in every room, no longer there, no longer was he the person you would text at every opportunity, or share looks as you reacted to what other people were saying.

Now you only knew each other in passing, a few texts here and there, mostly about your course, or if you were going home for summer or the weekend.

And when you both were home, it was so different. Once you would spend all day together, planning your days with each other. And now, you may sit in the same room, but little more than small smiles and small talk was shared between you.

And the few times you did feel you could talk to him; he would be, interrupted by his new friends coming to whisk him away.

The last three years you started to get used to not having Jace as a constant presence, instead you found great comfort in your other friends, you had always been close to them, and apart of you was grateful as you began to realise the love of female friendships, rather than just the love of Jacearys Strong.

It was Friday, the week before the big football game. The game everyone talked nonstop about, even Jace, as he had messaged you asking if you were coming to the game.

You had yet to respond.

Once you were his biggest cheerleader, sitting on the bleachers shouting his name. Now you no longer cheered his name, though you always sent him a kind smile when he did look for you in the crowd.

But unlike before you no longer went to every game, and as time went on you went to less and less.

 “Are you going to the game on Friday?” Maris asked. You were all sat in a private study room, preparing for your midterms.

You shrugged “maybe, I’m not sure yet”

“of course, we all are! It’s the big game, everyone’s talked about it nonstop!” Baela said beside you, “and I also don’t want to miss watching Cregan stark all hot and sweaty, now would I?” she said with a laugh, she and him had been casually hooking up for a past year, and with the way he looked at her she was sure they were soon to become more.

You laughed, “perhaps for you maybe, not that I have anyone worth ogling over”.

“Sure, you don’t” Heleana giggled from the other side of the table “poor Jacey would miss you terribly if you don’t go”.

“Oh please, he wouldn’t care if I was there or not” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh? Aside from his on again off again weird little thing with Sara Snow, Jace is, besotted with you!” Maris interjected.

“she’s not wrong” Rhaena spoke,

“Really?” you shook your head, “perhaps once, but he rarely speaks more than a few words to me anymore”.

“Perhaps that’s because he realised how hot you are” Baela said, sending you a wink.

“Oh gods, do you remember the look on his face when you slept with Justin Lannister in our first year” Maris laughed, “he looked like a kicked puppy!”

“Especially when he saw the hickey he had left” Heleana added.

You shook your head “I think he was more disgusted with the fact I slept with Justin than anything else”.

“hmm” Rhaena hummed, “and when you and Aemond dated in high school, what about then?”

“Oh gods, don’t bring that up” Heleana grumbled, “it still brings me nightmares, from when I walked in- “she fakes gagged at the memory.

“Okay stop it, I think you’ve all proved your point!” you sighed, “maybe once he had a crush on me, but not anymore!”

They all shared a look.

“And what about your crush on him?”

“What crush?” you said defensively.

They all laughed.

You stood up dramatic, gathering your books, “if I go to the game will you all shut up?”

“We make no promises!” Maris said, laughing once more.

“Ughh, I don’t know why I put up with you lot” you grumbled, as you went to leave.

“Because you love us” Heleana, answered.

“And Jacey too” Baela added.

you rolled your eyes as you left, heading home for the weekend.

You returned home often, your mother was all alone with out you there, though you did often find Rhaenyra, Jace’s mother, in her company. You loved seeing them both, finding Rhaenrya presence to be as much as a comfort as your own mothers.

Its one of the reasons your friendship with Jace fading into what it was now, hurt so much.

Before you had practically lived at Jace’s house growing up and now you rarely went over there, despite living next door, your bedroom windows facing one another. It hurt, seeing the life you knew suddenly disappear. To spend the summers in your own home, having your friends come to yours rather than to his, especially when you could see him on his bed, and you on yours.

He had changed, though not so much that he seemed a stranger to you, though his company was certainly strange. He knows hung out around Aegon a lot more, though he had once avoided him as often as he could. You were glad he had yet to adopt Aegon’s personality, the self-entitlement mixed with the self-loathing. Jace remained kind, his gaze often on yours whenever you were in the same room together. Something you had heard Aegon mock on several occasions.

As you walked into your house, the taste of cinnamon and sound of laughter flooded your senses. It was no surprise to see your mother in the kitchen, and even less of a surprise to see Rhaenyra with her, a smile graced your face as you approached the pair.

“mama” you greeted, “Nyra”.

“Oh darling, I didn’t know you were coming home!” your mother greeted, pulling you into a hug.

“I came home to study, I couldn’t focus with all the football stuff going on” you sighed, dumping your bag on the kitchen table.

Rhaenyra laughed, “yes Jace has talked nonstop about the football” she then looked at you with a sad look, “are you planning to go?”

“I’m not sure yet” you replied, stealing one of your mother’s cinnamon rolls from the counter.

“I’m sure Jace wants you there, he misses your rituals you know” Nyra spoke, coming to sit down at the table you now sat at.

“He does?” you did too, he was the reason you got into football in the first place and watching him without your rituals or watching games without Jace’s constant commentary.

“I know he does” she smiled, reaching for your hand, as your mother moved towards to the table.

“Believe it or not, darling, he talks about you often” she gave you a teasing look.

You shook your head, “if only he talked to me and not about me more” moving to stand up and head for your room.

“He said he was coming back this week, perhaps he will” Nyra called out as you started to walk up the stairs.

As you lay on your bed, your eyes moving to investigate Jace’s room. You laid there for a while, hoping they would open.

And they did. He had clearly just returned home just like yourself, his face tired, as he moved to sit on his bed, his face downcast, no smile in sight.         

You moved to sit up, and as you did, he saw you, a small smile gracing his face.

He sent you a small shy wave, and for a moment you felt as if you and he were back to normal.

But then his smile disappeared as his phone rang.

She tried to not watch as he argued with someone, his girlfriend you assumed. They always argued, she was always upset about something he had said, she never got his humour, not like you once did.

You couldn’t think of anything they truly had in common, then again you didn’t know either of them, not anymore.

On paper It made sense them being together, she was cheer captain and he on the football team, whilst you, you were on the bleachers, watching the game and waiting for his victory, whilst she would cheer him on, in his direct view. Ever the supporting act, and you the extra.

Before Uni, you and been his biggest and though you still supported him, it hurt a little seeing her cheer his name, especially since you never knew if they were off or on again until her, she shoved her tongue down his throat.

You and he used to have a ritual before each game. the day before you would always bunk of school, and he would always somehow convince you to join him on his run, you would run side by side, your phones listening to same playlist. (You and he had always had the exact same music taste, music she didn’t like, if the  though few parties hosted by his frat and her sorority were anything to go off of)Then you would spend the night staying up and watching the same three movies, before falling into a sugar induced coma only to be woken up by Nyra and Luke aggressively shilling you both awake screaming that your going to be late, and when you did finally wake up Jace would always force you both to take an ice bath, claiming it to be a good way to wake you up. You never believed him, and it would take him pulling you into the water with him for you to join him.

You would be there for every game and event, cheering from the bleachers.

And now as you watched him arguing with his girlfriend, you wished you knew what they were saying, there issues. A part of you regretted not trying harder to stay friends with him, even though it was him who moved away from you, not you away from him.

You reached down under your bed, trying to find the old sketchbook you used to use to talk to Jace before you both had phones.

You didn’t have his number anymore, having deleted it off your phone, though you remembered it off by heart, a part, something you could never bring yourself to forget it.

You didn’t want to text him, it didn’t feel right, you are reaching out first almost didn’t feel right either but eh looked hurt and you deep down still cared.

Finding a pen you quickly wrote, “you, okay?” Finding a pen you quickly wrote, “are you okay?”

He had sat down on his bed, head in his hands before looking up to see you turn the paper around.

A smile graced his face as he shrugged and reached for his own sketchbook and pen.

“Tired of drama” he wrote.

You laughed a little at his message, writing “sorry” with a sad face beside it, shrugging as you turned the paper around

And he shook his head, moving to stand up as you went to write something else, only for him to shut his curtain before he could see what you wrote. 

You shrugged of his easy dismissal, and how so few words were exchanged before he decided to end the conversation.

You had finished you studying, content and ready for your exams, so blasting your music on full volume you started to dance around your room.

Unbeknownst to you, he watched you dance, a smile pulling at his face as he realised you were the same as always. You danced like no one was watching singing along to the songs as you did. And he smiled, laughing at your antics as he remembered how you used to pull him up and dance with you.

He regretted how he ended his friendship with abandoning you, he wasn’t even sure why he did it. He knew he hurt you. He feltBu, for his own selfish somehow, he had made gain. He had made new friends; he, he was popular and on the uni football team. He liked the spotlight always had and was half to have all these new friends. He had made a great bond with but in doing so he lost his truest friend and the woman he loved.

He had decided to talk to you, to apologise and make up for what he did. So, as he saw you at outside the bench outside both your houses he came over and sat beside you. So, as he saw yous at outside the bench outside both your houses he came over and say beside you.

“hey” you heard a voice say beside you, as you turned your head to see Jace sit beside you.

“hey” you said back, as your hair falling in front of your face. He reached his hand forward, to brush the hair out of your eyes, and tucking it behind your ear.

 “How have you been?” he asked, his hand lingering slightly. You stared at him fro a moment, he still dressed the same, with the same worn-out jeans, the same smile, but with better hair.

You supposed you looked entirely different, though at the same time you hadn’t changed either. Your curled hair was no longer a frizzy messed, but well maintained. You didn’t wear your glasses much anymore, now favouring contacts. He seemed to smile as he took you in, staring at your eyes.

“I’m good, you?”

“Good, excited for the game…” he kept talking and it felt like old times again, you thought, it was so easy, to return to how it once was, chatting about nothing in particular.

He smiled as he spoke to you, happily chatting away. His smile was the same as always, a smile you sworn could light up a town.

“I haven’t seen you in a while” you said after a pause.

“yeah” he said awkwardly, scratching his head “I’m sorry about that, I never meant to- “a car pulled up, with Sara Snow in it.

He got up suddenly, mumbling goodbye as he did. His smile had faded, and turned into a forced smile, the kind of smile you gave to a stranger you passed in the hallway, as he got into her car. She instantly pulled him in for a kiss, her eyes staring you down as she did.

You had never actually talked to her before, never known anyone who had, but you did know Cregan, though not well, and he rarely said anything nice about his sister.

They drove away after that, Jace looking at you over his shoulder as they did.

The rest of the day you kept too yourself, focusing on studying. Jace had yet to return home, the light off in his room. Not that you were checking.

He had sent you a text, “sorry”, nothing more. You hadn’t replied, you didn’t even know what to say.

From the corner of your eye, you saw the light in his room turn on.

He walked in with a downtrodden look. He had spent the whole day with her and felt only regret on not spending it with you.

He and sara were on and off again, never anything serious, no feelings past lust. Especially after how she talked about you today. He ended it officially, and he couldn’t be happier. Especially when he saw yous at at your bed.

He reached under his bed for his sketchbook, reminiscing on how even as children you couldn’t spend an hour with out talking to one another.

It had all changed after uni, and he regretted not dragging you with him as he changed.

“hey” he wrote holding it up hoping you would look, and as luck would have it you did.

You seemed unsure as you yourself grabbed your own sketchbook, writing the words.

“what’s up?”

“I wanted to see if you were okay”.

You furrowed your brows “yeah?”

He sent you a small smile, before grabbing his phone and calling you.

“Hey?” you answered, your tone nervous.

“Hey!” he said trying to lighten your mood a little, “i’m sorry about earlier it won’t happen again”.

Yous kissed your teeth nodding your head, “right” his actions early hadn’t supposed you, they only made you realise that you and he won’t ever return to how you were before. Choosing each other first always, and never up and leaving each other mid conversation.

“I…. i broke up with her, officially”.

You hummed, he nervously coughed.

“I I know I hurt you when I started dating her, and i…I am so sorry, I just got so caught up in the idea of it all, these…these past few years have been a torment to me, watching as you seemed perfectly okay with us not…not being us anymore and I didn’t know how to…how to talk to you or-“

“i wasn’t perfectly okay with it” you interrupted him “at not point was I okay with loosing my best friend” you shook your head, glaring at him through the window “I tried to talk to you  and you shook me off, you chose her over an 18  year long friendship, how would I be okay with It!”

“I didn’t!” he said quickly, his face panicked, “I-I I messaged you I swear I did I sent you so many messages and you never replied”.

“No, you didn’t, I get the odd one but the second is as her shove her tongue down your throat I haven’t received these “many messages” you claim to have sent”.

“what?” he looked shocked through the window, “I told you about her, how I got drunk and slept with her at a party and how she wouldn’t take no as an answer, you never replied, I sent you countless texts about going to study together or hanging out and you never showed up!”

“What! You never showed up when I asked you!” you were near shouting now.

“You never asked me- “

“Neither did you!”

You heard your mum call you are asking if you were okay. You went silent, “we can’t do this over the phone”.

“Meet me at the backdoor” you looked at him nodding your head.

“hey” you said as Jace opened his back door, pulling it closed behind him.

“hey” he said moving towards you, “look, clearly there was some reason we never got these texts”.

You looked at him in disbelief, shaking your head, “gods Jace I didn’t realise you were so blind!” you laughed, “look I don’t know her or anything about her but, are you sure Sara never used your phone and maybe deleted the messages?”

“Umm…no?” he said unsure, “why would she do that”.

“Oh, please Jace, you and I have known each other our whole lives, and when we first started uni, we were acting like a married couple, she probably wanted me out the way so she could date you”.

“But we weren’t…we’ve never- “he stuttered awkwardly.

“Have you never once thought of me-?”

He cut you off, “no!” he said it too fast, so fast that you were unsure if he meant it.

“Really? Because I have, I did” you replied, sending him a shy look. You had hopped he had to and that you are saying this would make him say it in return.

He looked at you shocked, not expecting your admission, then his face turned guilty.  “I know” he said looking down, “but at the time I- I saw you nothing more than a…a friend and so I…I dated Sara to push you away in hope you would stop seeing me as more than a friend.” He scratched his head awkwardly, looking down his eyes filled with guilt.

 “oh” that’s all you could say. It was the first time you had ever admitted you had actually liked him, and to be rejected so clearly. To know the reason why he was with Sara, the reason he was with her in the first place was to get rid of you, it hurt more than three years of only passing words and fading friendship.

“I. I’m sorry I… I broke up with her though”.

You laughed a humourless laugh, almost in disbelief “I well that makes what you said better” you scoffed, truing around to leave.

He grabbed your arm, “No…I” he whispered your name, “I… I do like you like that… I’m just before her id dint realise my feelings for you and I do know…”

You scoffed, “right… so it took fucking another woman and ignoring me for three years, to save me from my feeling, made you realise you liked me to?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

You laughed, a short scoff of a laugh, “by the gods Jace you’re an idiot” this time when he grabbed your arm as you went to leave you only shook him off, storming up to your room and leaving the curtains shut for the rest of the weekend.

That week you swear you saw Jace everywhere. He seemed to follow you almost.

Though you were both doing the same course, meaning 90% of your lectures were together.

“Why is Jace following you?” Maris asked as you both walked out of your seminar.

“Oh gods, I haven’t told you, have I?”

She laughed, intrigued, “no, what happened”.

You looked down laughing as you tried to tell her, “Well Jace and I finally talked and he… admitted he liked me?”

“What!”

“that’s not it… but he also told me that he knew I liked him and that was the reason he started dating Sara… so I would stop liking him”.

“What the hells?” Baela said as she caught up to the pair of you, “did I just hear that right”.

“don’t even get me started! But I basically told him he was an idiot; I mean who hurts someone like that!”

“Idiots!” Maris and Baela said simultaneously.

And as they did you saw Jace appear from around the corner, two coffees in hand. He had a hopeful look in his eyes as he walked towards you.

“Speak of the devil” you mumbled, as you turned to your friends, “I’ll be back in a minute” you said as you walked towards him.

“Jace” you greeted. “What do you want now?”

“To apologise” he said handing you a coffee, “I really am sorry, I never should have done what I did, and I should have told you, and not kept it from you.” He looked at you, his face kin to puppy scrounging for food.

“Then why did you?” You said as you ushered him to an empty room.

“I was scared. “He admitted, smiling shyly, “all my life I had loved you and everyone told me you did too, and then. then you and Aemond started dating and I thought they all were lying to me and how could you ever love me and when you could be with him”

In truth it took you until after your relationship with Aemond to realise your feelings for Jace, in fact it was Aemond who broke up with you because he saw said feelings first.

He continued. “And then you broke up and everyone was telling me to take a chance, and then uni started, and I got scared and realised that you did I fact like me too. But for some reason I was convinced that being in a relationship in uni would only tear us apart. So… so I decided to take a step back and stop whatever romantic feelings we had- “

“That wasn’t your choice to make Jace, maybe for yourself but my own feelings? You had no right!”

“I know… I know. I was- I am an idiot and…I’m sorry, truly.”

You sighed, you could see he was really sorry, and yet an apart of you didn’t want to forgive him. But another part of you wanted to jump into his arms and forgive him.

“I want us to be friends.” He said, with a hopeful gaze. And your heart broke all other again.

“no” you stepped back, “you know of my feelings, and… I-I can’t be your friend, I can’t ignore those feelings, I won’t, I can’t” tears welled in your eyes at the look on his face.

“I don’t know if I can give you what you want.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have loved you my whole life, and I have already screwed that up, I can’t risk whatever we have now for a relationship.” “we have nothing, we are not friends, not lovers, nothing. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain”.

“No, I have everything to lose, I have already lost your friendship, I can’t risk breaking your heart and loosing you forever!”

“So, because you’re afraid of the possibility of us breaking up you won’t try?” you shook your head, “I can’t believe you! I don’t understand what you want! And you clearly don’t see what I want either!” you went to leave, “I can’t anymore Jace, I just want, I can’t look at you without my heartbreaking. You broke my heart and our friendship once before because you feared losing me forever, well know I think you might have lost me anyway.”

You left without another word or a single glance.

The week passed slowly, your friends were a great comfort and your exams seemed to breeze past you, but the nagging in your back of your mind was constant.

The regret and want. The want to see Jace, to take back what you said and make him realise what an idiot he was. And the regret from not grabbing his face and kissing him.

You and he had been each other’s first kiss, using the excuse of ‘practice’ to cover up you real feelings. It had been awkward, with nose and teeth clashing, and then before you knew it the kisses became perfect, casual even. You had both been sure it was the start of something. And then you ruined it by saying yes when Aemond asked you on a date. You never regretted dating him, he was your first love, your first everything. But not your first kiss. He made you realise what love was and that it was what you had with Jace all along.

Then University started, you lived in the same halls, saw each other every moment of everyday, cooking together, studying together. And then the casual kissing came back. Sweet kisses goodbye or good morning. And then one day you had lingered, and he had pushed back. Your daily routine faded, and then it all happened. The football team and Sara Snow.

It would of been better had he just stopped kissing you, stopped initiating the kisses. Instead, he left you, and now you had done the same to him.

And yet here you stood, getting ready for the big football game, with all your friends.

You wore a jersey, his. The day he got on the team he had gotten you both a jersey. It had sat unworn in a box under your bed since then. It fit perfectly, his name written in bold on the back, alongside his lucky number. The number you had picked, the number that was conveniently todays date.

You stared into the mirror taking a deep breath as your friends all readied themselves. You weren’t sure exactly what you planned to do, but either way Jace would regret ever saying no to dating you.

Everyone was at the game, including the entirety of Jace’s family, you found yourself sat next to Rhaenrya and Luke. You sat right at the front, practically, on the field, meaning Jace could see you, and more importantly you in his jersey. They had all taken notice of your jersey, with Harwin sending you a teasing look.

It was loud and chaotic, the entirety of the university at the event and for good cause as Jace’s team had won.

You hadn’t really paid any attention, your eyes solely focused of Jace.  

He made eye contact with you, solely you and came rushing forward. You stood up moving yourself and before you knew it, he had sweeped you up into is arms. Spinning you around, he whispered like a chant “I’m so sorry, I regret everything I never should have- “

You shut him up, taking his mouth with yours in a slow passionate kiss. Moaning into each other’s mouths, you realised you both had got on lost in the crowd, as everyone had run into the field. Leaving you to find a moment alone, to finally reconnect and admit your feelings.

“Come with me” he said grabbing your hand, leading you away from the crowd and field.

“I’ve never taken anyone here before” he said once you finally reached your destination, it was a sweet little outlook with a view of the island. “The day I found it I wanted to save it, for you”.

You looked at each other, hands entwined.

“I love you” you both said in unison, bringing a smile to each of your faces.  

“I am so sorry about everything, I don’t know why I said what I did, why I asked to be friends and nothing more. I’m a fool”

“You’re my fool” you laughed, “in fact were both fools, I don’t know why we kept this from each other for 21 years. “You laughed, before reaching forward and kissing him again.

It was so different from your years of practice kisses. They were deliberate and sweet. This was hot, passionate and desperate.

“Gods, I need you” he moaned into your mouth, as he backed you up onto a tree, his hands descending to your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your bodies stating to slowly grind against one another as your tongues battled for dominance, his eventually winning, as he took you in for one last heated kiss before his lips began deciding down your neck.

“Please.” You begged, as you reached down to pull of his jersey, you wore nothing underneath, your bare breasts on show.

He moaned at the sight of them, before taking your nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking as he did. Low moans spilling out of you as he did.  You gripped his hair as he continued his ministrations, before pulling him of your breast and reaching up to undress him. Soon you were both bare, if anyone was to walk by, they would easily you, but neither of you seemed to care as Jace moved to kiss you again his hand reaching down to caress your wet cunt, shuddering as he penetrated your hole.

As he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, your moans swallowed by his mouth as you felt yourself tighten around his fingers your peak edging closer and closer, before he withdrew his fingers causing a moan of protest as his fingers left you.

“Keep going” you pleaded, but he simply shook his head, before going on his knees, your leg moving o his shoulder as he licked your cunt. He lapped you up like he was dying, and you were his final meal. Licking up all your juices before finally reaching your clit, his fingers hand made there way back to your cunt, as you felt his finger penetrate you once more as he sucked your clit into his mouth.

You moaned loudly as he did so, making no effort to hide your pleasure, as you gripped his hair and started to ride his face until you finally came.

he stood up slowly, before once again pulling you into heated kiss.

“You taste divine” he moaned into your mouth, before groaning as you reached for his cock. “jump” he groaned, and as you allowing him to thrust, into you in one slick movement as you wrapped your legs around his waist, causing you both to moan simultaneously, as your walls wrapped around his length tightly, he didn’t move for a moment, allowing you both to adjust before he started to pump his hips slowly into you, building up a rhyme.

“Gods you moaned,” gripping onto him tightly, as he started to pound into you, you both moaning as his pace picked up.

His face was buried in your neck, leaving kisses you where sure would leave a mark.

He continued to thrust his hips, pounding into you as your peaks grew closer and closer, his cock throbbing inside you as your cunt tightened around his length.

“I’m going to cum” he whined. “Fuck, where?” he asked, reaching down to rub your clit, prompting you closer and closer to Cumming with him.

“Inside…I’m on the pill” you said between moans and before you knew it you felt the warmness of him spreads inside you as you came yourself, gripping tightly on his arms as you did.

You took a moment, leaning against, him and him you.

“Why did we wait so long to do this again?” he asked catching his breath.

“Because you’re an idiot”.

He laughed, “and I will spend every day making it up to you I swear” he kissed you softly, as if sealing his promise in a kiss, a promise you knew he would keep “I should have known, you belong with me”.

taglist

@apollonshootafar @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @dark-night-sky-99 @zillahvathek @leavesmealobe @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunbl0gs @ka1afbr @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @RAYNETARGARYEN2 @cloboboo @now-i-have-a-new-obsession

to be added to taglist

[jisbonsism]

you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

[cherriielle]

summer/fall cards 📷✨

[thefishywizard]

Teens but older... advanced teens

[domesticfanfic]

Taylor Swift at 2am:

[mimimar]

finally completed my comic based on the song ivy by taylor swift!✿ please zoom in to read the text and see the details~

✿.✿.✿

you can get the digital zine pdf here! it includes extras like character profiles, costume design, more art of willow and ivy, zine-exclusive sketches and an illustrated guide to the symbolism of all the flowers in this comic.

you can also get prints of individual pages here!

✿.✿.✿

[rawrfrferrari]

Call It What You Want | CL16

Concept: Reader gets a lot of hate online because she called out a journalist for being fat phobic. Charles defends his girlfriend after she deactivates all her socials and remove all her posts. She comes back stronger with Charles by his side.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x girlfriend!Reader Genre: SMAU, Angst, Fluff Warnings: Mention of cyber bullying, DTs, fat-shaming.

Face claim: Kendall Jenner

[Request and Taglist] [Masterlist]

charles_leclerc

6 MONTHS LATER...

kymillman

Liked by scuderiaferrari, y/nupdates and others

kymillman A familiar face, a fresh start. Y/N Y/LN spotted in Melbourne with boyfriend Charles Leclerc and his new teammate Lewis Hamilton, looking happier than ever after a long public silence.

view all comments

f1teaofficial SHE’S BACK AND SHE LOOKS SO UNSHAKEN OMG softforleclerc 6 months. no posts. no follows. and she shows up like this??? mother. lewishamfans Also y/n and lewis being besties?? ICONIC. oscarpiastri Mother 🙇🏻‍♂️ formulagirliez oscar 😭

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and others

yourusername I did one thing right.

tagged : charles_leclerc, yourbestie

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charles_leclerc You did more than that. You’re everything right in this world, mon soleil ☀️ → yourusername My lover ❤️ yourbestie Always by your side. No matter what. 💋💫 → yourusername ILYSM 💕 yourmom Forever proud of you, my love. 💖 → yourusername You taught me how to be strong. Love u ❤️ arthur_leclerc Family. Always 🫶🏽 → yourusername Always and Forever 🤞🏼 pascale_leclerc ma chérie ❤️ → yourusername mama 🫶🏽 carlossainz55 If anyone deserves peace and joy, it’s you 💙 → yourusername Carlo💙 zendaya That’s my girl 💖 → yourusername 🩷 lando_norris GOAT → yourusername 🥰 lorenzo_leclerc We love you tons, sœur ❤️ → yourusername Enzo 🩷 oscarpiastri MOTHER SLAYED 👑 -yourusername Oscy 🥺🫶🏽 lilymhe Pure sunshine. 💛 → yourusername Lils 😘 sabrinacarpenter like the Aussie said. Mother is back💪🏼💕 → yourusername baby 💕

[aphroditsdaughter]

MY BOY ONLY BREAKS HIS FAVORITE TOYS

Paige was the kind of girl who made you feel like the center of her world, only to let you slip away when you became too fragile to hold.

paige bueckers x reader

lots of angst, just sad sad sad (not proofread)

You never forgot the first time Paige looked at you

really looked at you.

It was winter, one of those moody afternoons where the sky can't decide whether to snow or just hang heavy and gray forever. You were tucked into the corner of a coffee shop, nursing a half-cold drink and pretending to read while people-watching, when she walked in. Her coat was too big for her, her hair wind-tangled, cheeks flushed. She was carrying a worn leather notebook, pressed to her chest like something sacred.

She ordered with a soft, low voice — oat milk latte, extra foam — and then turned too quickly, her elbow catching the edge of her cup. The coffee splashed across the pages of her notebook, and she froze, just staring at it. Not upset. Just… disappointed. Like she'd expected this.

You handed her a napkin. Then your pen. Then, hesitantly, your spare notebook.

She smiled. Not with her mouth, not yet but her eyes warmed, slow and molten. “Thanks,” she said, and the way the word slid off her tongue made your stomach knot.

That was it.

That was how it started.

Being with Paige was like falling asleep under stars you didn’t realize were dying. She was gentle in the way a wave is beautiful, captivating, but always pulling you somewhere deeper than you meant to go. Like a song, where the melody lured you in, and the words left a bittersweet taste in your mouth, something you couldn’t quite shake off even if you wanted to. There were days when she made you feel like art fragile, irreplaceable, but always under some kind of scrutiny. She’d trace your collarbone with her fingers like it was a sentence she was memorizing, as if the rhythm of her touch was a kind of poetry, one she couldn’t quite express fully in words. It was as if, with every stroke of her fingers, she was attempting to understand the parts of you that even you didn’t know how to explain. And in return, you tried to understand her — the pieces of her that she kept tucked behind the walls, the ones she rarely let anyone see.

She liked to talk in whispers when the world was quiet, when the space between you was small and humid, full of things neither of you knew how to say. It was as if you were both dancing around something, each touch and word a step closer to something you both feared and wanted at the same time. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was full of longing, a subtle pressure that built up without release. She spoke in ways that made everything feel delicate, like even the smallest thing between you could shatter if you weren’t careful. Her words had weight, but not the kind you could easily carry. There was always a tension, like she was both drawing you in and pushing you away, creating a space where everything felt just on the edge of breaking.

She’d call you “baby” with that half-sleepy voice in the mornings, the kind that seemed to come from somewhere deep, as if she were still caught between dreams and the reality of being tangled up in you. She’d tangle her legs around yours like she couldn’t bear to be apart for even a second, holding you in a way that felt both possessive and desperate. There was something in her touch, in her need for closeness, that made you feel like you were the center of her universe. But even in those moments, you could feel the distance. It wasn’t obvious at first, but you began to sense it, the invisible walls she built, the way she let you in only as far as the version of herself she felt comfortable sharing.

The intimacy she gave was like a door that opened just enough to let you see the shape of her heart but never quite enough to step inside. After sex, she’d rest her forehead against yours, breathing you in like she needed to be anchored, as if you were the only thing in the world that made sense. But even then, you could feel the walls — the barriers she carefully constructed. There was love there, undeniable and raw, but it was tempered by something older, something unhealed, something that kept her from fully surrendering. The need to be close, to wrap herself around you, was always followed by the retreat, like she was afraid that too much closeness would make everything unravel.

You asked her once, quietly, “What are you afraid of?” You didn’t expect her to answer, not really, but it was a question that had been pressing on your chest for days. You wanted to understand the distance she kept, the way she pulled away just when you thought you were close enough to hold her. She kissed you instead of answering, her lips pressing against yours with the kind of intensity that told you everything without saying a word. It was a kiss full of contradictions deep and passionate, but with an edge of sadness, as if she was trying to say something she couldn’t quite form into words. Her kiss was a language all its own, one you knew but still couldn’t fully understand.

In those moments, it felt like love was a fragile thing, something so close and yet so unreachable. She was like someone who loved too deeply to ever let go but also feared the weight of that love, afraid it might consume her if she gave it all. She was the kind of person who only let herself get close enough to love but not enough to break, like a favorite toy that gets put back on the shelf after too many tears have been shed over it. You knew that love could never be perfect with her, that the pieces of her you wanted to hold onto might slip away before you could ever fully catch them. But that didn’t stop you from wanting her, from reaching for her, knowing you’d never get the whole of her but always hoping for a little more.

Sometimes, when you lay beside her at night, the warmth of her body against yours felt like a tether but it was a tether to something you couldn’t quite keep. There were days when you would catch her staring at you, her gaze heavy, as if she were thinking of something far away, something you couldn’t reach no matter how hard you tried. The distance between you wasn’t always physical, but it was always there a soft, invisible line she couldn’t cross, no matter how much you both needed it to be crossed.

She loved you in a way that was both consuming and evasive, always giving but never fully surrendering. You could feel her love in the way she held you close, in the way her fingers lingered on your skin, in the way she kissed you with a quiet desperation, as if she feared the moment she let it go. But you knew, deep down, that her love — like her — was always on the verge of breaking. It was beautiful, fragile, and just a little out of reach. And no matter how many times you reached for her, you couldn’t stop wondering if you were just another one of the things she loved until it was too much, until it cracked and slipped through her fingers.

It didn’t happen all at once, but it felt like it was always coming. At first, the changes were small, so small that you could convince yourself they were just shadows passing in the corner of your mind. She stopped texting “good morning.” It was subtle like a song playing in the background, one that started with a soft melody but eventually turned into something more dissonant, something you couldn’t ignore anymore. When you told her “I love you,” the words used to be a rhythm between you, easy and true, but now she just smiled softly, her gaze drifting somewhere far away, almost like she was holding back something heavy.

Her kisses slowed, like she was hesitating, and for the first time, you wondered if she was thinking too hard about what they meant. Were they still the same? Or were they becoming hollow echoes of a love that was fading? You could almost hear the ticking of a clock, counting down the moments until she would slip further away from you.

Then came the nights, long and cold, like a broken lyric you couldn’t quite grasp. She stopped coming home until it was too late. Her eyes were always glassy, like she was lost in a world you didn’t understand, and the taste of her lips oh, it never tasted like her anymore. It tasted like someone else’s, someone else’s secrets, and you never asked who they were. You never had to. She didn’t offer, and you couldn’t bring yourself to demand it. After all, you were too scared to hear the truth. Sometimes you thought you could hear a familiar tune playing in the back of her mind—a rhythm that wasn’t yours, that you’d never been a part of. You thought you’d lost the song of her heart somewhere along the way, but you couldn’t find it.

It was one of those nights, lying together in bed, her body beside you but not really there, not in the way she used to be. You could feel the space between you, the absence where once there was connection. Your nose pressed to her shoulder, your heart tangled in confusion and hurt. You whispered, almost like a prayer, “You’re pulling away from me.”

She didn’t deny it. She didn’t fight it. She just whispered, “I don’t mean to,” her voice barely above a breath. It was the kind of thing that might have been said by someone who believed it someone who thought they were still holding onto you, even when they were already slipping through your fingers.

But she was. She was unraveling. Every part of her, each delicate thread that once held her close to you, was falling apart. It was like watching a poem burn, each line a little more charred than the last, until there was nothing left but smoke and ash. You tried to hold on, to remember who she used to be, to remember what love felt like, but the pieces of her scattered faster than you could gather them.

And somewhere, buried deep in the mess of it all, you realized that you were like the boy in the song, watching as the most precious parts of you crumbled in her hands. You were the one who loved too hard, and maybe that was the problem all along. You’d given her everything, all your tenderness and truth, but it wasn’t enough. She only broke the things she held most dear, the things that once meant everything to her. She only broke her favorite toys, the ones she swore she would never let go of.

And now, with the threads of everything you once had slipping away, you couldn’t help but wonder if love was always meant to be a tortured poem a melody that grew sharper with every note, a song that you couldn’t ever quite finish.

It ended in silence.

No loud arguments. No dramatic words exchanged. No grand gesture of closure. Just a quiet, drawn-out vanishing act, the kind that leaves you haunted, with no clear line to mark when everything unraveled. It was a slow fade, like a photograph being washed away by rain, and you didn’t even realize it was happening until it was too late. The silence settled into your bones, a lingering hum of unanswered questions. When did the curtain fall? And how could you have missed it?

You reached out. Texted. Called. There were words you never said, confessions you buried too deep, letters you wrote but never sent. You played out every possible scenario in your mind, but the silence only deepened. It was like trying to catch the wind futile, impossible.

And then, one morning almost like a ghost who remembers what it means to breathe again, she sent a message. Simple, too simple for the weight it carried. A single line, yet it landed like a thousand unspoken regrets.

“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I break things I care about. You were my favorite.”

You stared at the screen, blinking as the words swam before your eyes. Favorite. The word hung there, echoing louder than it should, reverberating in your chest like a broken melody. Favorite like a toy, something you played with and loved until it cracked under pressure, left in the dark, its broken pieces scattered in the aftermath. Something that was adored and then abandoned, tossed aside with the fragile promise that it could never be fixed.

You weren’t sure which hurt more, the truth in her words or the way you still felt that raw pull toward her. Something about the way she called you favorite made everything feel broken and incomplete, a love that never quite took form, that never had the chance to be real. It was like being something cherished for a moment, only to be left in ruins when it couldn’t hold up to the weight of reality.

Now, you walk through the world with a quiet caution, a softness that wasn't there before. You’ve learned to guard your heart, to shield yourself from the things that once came so easily. There are pieces of her in you — in the way you flinch when someone says they’ll call but never do, in how the sound of a song she used to hum makes your chest tighten like you’ve been holding your breath for far too long. You wish you could hate her, but you can’t. No, that would be easier. Hate would give you closure, a clean line to draw between the past and the present.

But you can’t erase her. You can’t forget the way she made you feel like you mattered for a brief, shining moment, before everything broke. No, you still love her. Quietly. Painfully. The kind of love that doesn’t need permission, doesn’t ask for anything in return, the kind that lingers in the quiet spaces, in the places where memories go to haunt you.

It’s the kind of love that feels like being something treasured, something played with, and then discarded when it starts to show cracks. The kind that leaves you wondering if you were ever really meant to last or if you were always meant to break. There’s a cruelty in being someone’s favorite and knowing, deep down, that the love wasn’t built to endure. It was always destined to shatter, to leave you in pieces.

And then you think of the places she left behind, of all the things she took without a word, and you remember the emptiness, the feeling of being left without so much as a glance back. It’s a feeling that stays with you, like something unresolved, like a goodbye that was never said, but that you still carry with you.

You were never her toy, not in the way she made you feel. But she broke you like one. And the worst part? You let her.

Because being her favorite — even for just a little while — felt like magic. Even if it was always meant to shatter. Even if it was always going to fade. It felt like the world, for just a moment, was holding its breath. It was a spell you didn’t want to break, even if you knew how it would end.

And in the end, you realized: it was never about being her favorite. It was about feeling like you mattered. And maybe, for a while, you did.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

REASONS NOT TO END IT ALL:

1) all the unreleased songs from your favourite artist

2) all the dogs and cats waiting to be loved by you

3) GOTTA OUTLIVE THE HATERS

4) THE HATERS GONNA BE HAPPY IF YOU DIE

5) potatoes. boil them, mash them, fry them up till golden and crispy

6) we got 2 more fnaf movies to go

7) dr. pepper

8) you have so many hugs left to give and get

9) you might eat your favourite meal tomorrow

10) keep telling yourself “not today.” one day you won’t have to.

please, REBLOG + ADD MORE REASONS!

[beyo-archives-and-shtuff]

Art done for @emperor-kumquat's tf mercy project

Click for better qual ^^

[alluringwaves]

fresh out the slammer/percy jackson ೃ࿔*:

👙 °❀* 𓍼:･ “now, pretty baby, i'm running back home to you / fresh out the slammer, i know who my first call will be to”

summer!roberts!reader x percy jackson

song: fresh out the slammer – taylor swift

The first time you see Percy Jackson after months apart, he looks wrecked.

He’s leaning against the railing near the lake, arms crossed, gaze distant. His camp necklace hangs loose around his neck, and his hair is messier than usual. His whole posture screams exhausted.

And when he finally turns and sees you?

You expect something cocky. Some stupid “Miss me, Princess?” line, or a smirk, or something to make you roll your eyes.

But instead, Percy just stares.

Like he can’t believe you’re real.

And suddenly, you remember—

The weeks you spent not knowing if he was alive.

The way people whispered about how bad it had gotten.

The part of you that swore, if he came back, you’d kill him yourself.

But now he’s here. And he’s looking at you like that.

You cross your arms. “What, no dramatic entrance? No cocky one-liner?”

Percy’s mouth twitches, like he wants to smirk—but doesn’t. Instead, he just shakes his head, slow, deliberate.

“Nah,” he says, voice rough. “I’m just happy to see you.”

You hate the way your heart clenches.

You scoff, flipping your hair over your shoulder. “Well, obviously. I’m a delight.”

But it doesn’t come out as confident as you want it to be, because right now, you feel so relived, and mad, and confused, you could cry.

Percy finally smiles, small but real. “Yeah. You are.”

And that? That’s not fair.

Because suddenly, you remember everything.

All the fights.

All the nights you stayed up, waiting for news.

All the times he left, and left, and left.

You inhale sharply, steeling yourself. “You left.”

Percy’s smile fades.

“I had to,” he says quietly.

“You always ‘have to,’” you snap, arms tightening around yourself. “And I always—”

You stop. Bite your lip. Refuse to let him see how much you care.

Percy steps closer. “You always what?”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” he says, voice firm. “You matter.”

You roll your eyes, because that’s easier than breaking down in front of him. “Save the poetic shit for someone else, Jackson.”

Percy, annoyingly, does not back off. Instead, he crowds into your space, close enough that you can smell the lake on him, the salt and the sea, the pieces of him that are so fundamentally not yours.

“You’re mad at me,” he says.

“Obviously.”

“You missed me.”

You glare. “You don’t know that.”

Percy just looks at you, green eyes steady. “Yeah, I do.”

Your throat tightens. Because he’s right. And that’s the worst part.

So you do the only thing you can—you turn, start walking away, try to escape before you do something stupid, like forgive him too easily.

But before you can get far, Percy grabs your wrist.

And suddenly, you’re spinning back into him, his hands firm, steady, familiar.

And when he says, “Please don’t go,” it’s not a demand. It’s a plea.

You swallow hard. “You’re an idiot.”

Percy exhales a laugh, breath warm against your skin. “Yeah. I know.”

And then, before you can talk yourself out of it, before you can remind yourself of all the reasons you should stay mad—

You kiss him.

And he kisses you back.

Like he’s fresh out the slammer, and you’re the first thing he wants to hold.

[glitchgh0sty]

Some goofy ocs doing the thing that goofy ocs do best.. ✨-KARAOKE🎵✨

@fallisl1fe and @innome0, plz collect your beans- they’ve escaped prison again 😭

[wasteland-wrecker]

TW: blood - Nuka World dlc spoilers

Toby was not prepared for the Gauntlet at all.

When he ran into Harvey, he hadn’t expected anything like that.

He could have turned back before getting on the monorail, but after the destruction of the Institute he felt lost, overwhelmed by a sense of inertia, of passivity.

He had only brought a few grenades and Kellogg’s gun. He hadn’t even bothered to wear any armor, just a shabby road leather outfit.

And then, Nuka World? Fuck, he had yet to see it.

After realizing he had walked into a trap, Toby wasn’t surprised at all.

Just another group of radiers who think they’re dealing with the last of idiots, he thought.

The Gauntlet certainly put him to the test. Whoever created that game had some time to waste.

The hardest part of it was the final one, the fight with the raiders and the walk through hand grenades hanging from wires, that lead to the fight with Colter.

He listened carefully the advice of that voice from the intercom, that Gage guy. He wondered where the catch was, what was the reason behind all of that mess.

Then he prepared for the fight, after catching some breath in the locker room. In one hand he held the Thirst Zapper, in the other one the revolver of the man who took everything from him.

It all seemed so absurd and ridiculous.

He stepped into the arena and fought following Gage's advice, using the water to deactivate Colter's armor and the revolver to finish him off.

During a close encounter Colter vigorously pushed him against a bumper car, opening a large wound on the side of his face. At that point it seemed all over, but Toby managed to escape again and gave him the final shot.

An earthquake came from the stands: applauses, whistles, screams. Some of the crowd’s comments were directed at the man who had helped him earlier, the man who now stood before Toby, behind a thick glass wall.

“Welcome the new Overboss,” he heard Gage say, or something like that.

He turned to him, and staggered forward a few steps.

That was the first time ever they saw each others face to face.

And then, well…

Toby asked for water.

(He drank some from the Thirst Zapper but he was still thirsty af)

[irradiatedsnakes]

gets you with my Nice!

my Nice!

[malfoysanctuary]

The Way He Loves

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Fred Weasley has always been reckless on a broom, but when it comes to you, he's careful—intentional. He sees the little things, the way you endure the roaring Quidditch crowds just for him, and he makes sure you never forget just how much he loves you in return.

The Gryffindor stands were vibrating with energy. The air was thick with tension, and the roar of the crowd was deafening, a mix of cheers, groans, and the occasional spellfire of colorful charms thrown into the air in celebration. It was everything you hated.

And yet, there you were, tucked into the very front row, Fred’s old red and gold sweater drowning your frame, your hands clenched into the fabric as you watched him soar through the air like he was born for it.

You hated Quidditch. Loathed it. The dizzying speed, the crashing bodies, the way your heart jumped every time a bludger narrowly missed Fred’s head. The games were long, the crowd was loud, and frankly, you had a thousand things you’d rather be doing.

But you loved Fred Weasley.

And Fred Weasley loved Quidditch.

You watched as he grinned mid-air, swerving past a Slytherin Chaser with a level of recklessness that made your stomach twist. He was all confidence, all ease, the golden boy of Gryffindor with mischief in his eyes and trouble in his veins. And then, between the chaos, the yells, and the bludgers flying at ridiculous speeds, he looked at you.

Just for a second.

A split moment where he searched for your face in the sea of screaming students, and when he found you—watching, waiting, there for him and him alone—he smirked. That stupid, cocky smirk that made you want to both kiss and hex him.

Then, with one final, showy move, he sent the Quaffle flying straight through the hoop, sealing Gryffindor’s victory.

The crowd exploded.

Your stomach unclenched.

You watched as he celebrated with his team, as the Gryffindors around you went mad with excitement, but you stayed still, watching, waiting. Because you knew—no matter how many cheers or slaps on the back he received—Fred Weasley was always going to come to you first.

And he did.

Before the victory chants had even settled, Fred was running toward you, hair windswept, cheeks flushed, still in his sweaty Quidditch gear. You barely had time to react before he scooped you up, spinning you in the air as you shrieked in protest.

"Fred! You’re disgusting—put me down!"

He only laughed, spinning you once more before setting you back on your feet, his hands sliding to your waist as he grinned down at you. "You love it, darling."

You scowled, trying to shove him off, but he held firm. “You smell like a broomstick and sweat. It’s revolting.”

"And yet, you're still here," he mused, tilting his head. "Still sitting through an entire match, watching me be brilliant, all because you love me."

Your face heated. “You’re insufferable.”

Fred leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, and just like that, all your irritation melted. “And you’re my favorite person in the world.”

Your heart clenched.

Because Fred Weasley noticed things.

Noticed the way you endured the games despite your hatred for them. Noticed the way you never complained, never made him feel guilty for loving the sport, even though he knew you hated every second.

And because he noticed, he never let you feel like your efforts went unappreciated.

As the celebration roared on around you, he pulled you closer, lowering his voice. “Tomorrow’s all yours.”

You blinked up at him. “What?”

He smiled, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. “Tomorrow. No Quidditch, no flying, no rowdy Gryffindor nonsense. Just you and me doing whatever you want.”

Your chest tightened, warmth blooming beneath your ribs.

"You mean that?"

Fred’s expression softened. "I always mean it when it comes to you, love."

The next morning, true to his word, Fred met you outside the common room looking as far from a Quidditch player as possible. Instead of his usual uniform or training gear, he wore a cozy sweater, hands stuffed into his pockets, a lazy, easy smile playing on his lips.

“I am officially at your mercy today,” he declared, pressing a dramatic hand to his chest. “I, Fred Weasley, solemnly swear to participate in whatever god-awful, non-Quidditch-related activities you desire.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Even if it means being dragged through a six-hour book-shopping excursion?”

Fred grinned, slipping his fingers through yours. “Even if it means suffering through your overly dramatic book obsessions.”

And that was how you found yourself wandering through the cozy, quiet aisles of the bookstore in Hogsmeade, Fred trailing behind you like a lost puppy, occasionally picking up the most ridiculous books he could find just to make you laugh. Instead of bludgers, he dodged your playful shoves. Instead of a roaring crowd, it was just you and him, tucked away from the world, his hand never straying far from yours.

And at lunch, when you sat together at The Three Broomsticks, he listened intently as you rambled about your latest book obsession, nodding along despite the fact that he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about.

Because Fred Weasley made an effort.

Because he never let love be one-sided.

By the time dinner rolled around, the Great Hall was buzzing, students chatting excitedly about yesterday’s match. But as always, Fred didn’t care about any of it. He sat beside you, the rest of Gryffindor still riding the high of their victory, but his attention was only on one thing—making sure you had food before he even thought about his own.

You watched, warmth spreading through your chest, as he grabbed your favorites first, piling your plate high before finally grabbing his own. It was instinct for him, something so small yet so telling.

The little things.

The way he paid attention.

The way he always made sure you were taken care of, always put you first, even when you didn’t ask him to.

You swallowed, nudging his thigh beneath the table. "You really don’t have to do that every time, you know."

Fred simply shot you a look, as if the mere suggestion was absurd. "Course I do. You think I’d let my girl starve?"

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. "You’re ridiculous."

Fred leaned in, brushing his lips against the shell of your ear. "Ridiculously in love with you?"

You sighed, shaking your head, but your smile gave you away.

Loving Fred Weasley was easy.

Because when he loved, he loved completely.

And he made sure you never, ever forgot it.