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psychovigilantewrites · 3 years

Text

Stay Away

Pairing: Reader/Jason Todd

Genre: Smut

TW: AGE GAP!! PSEUDO-INCEST! PLEASE READ SUMMARY, IVE RECEIVED LOTS OF CRITICISMS FOR THIS FIC SOOOO

Summary: THIS IS A REPOST SINCE TUMBLR TOOK IT DOWN DUE TO POSSIBLE REPORTS LOLOL

This fic is about a young Robin!Reader with a much older Jason. Mentions of past sexual abuse. This started out as a drabble lol, I got carried away. Anyway, Hope you enjoy! I love reading comments, so don't be shy!

Edit: Due to this fic being my only controversial one, I’d like to update the warnings by giving a brief description of what happens. Reader is adopted by Bruce at 14, she has a small innocent crush on Jason that isn’t explored until she is older (Jason has ZERO feelings for her at this stage because SHE IS JUST A KID HERE). At 16, she becomes more aggressive in flirting with Jason. At 17 (Gotham’s legal age of consent- I based this on New York’s age of consent), she has oral sex with Jason. At 18, they have sex (Jason is 27).

I wrote this a while back, and now that I’ve learned a few things along the way, I realise that a sexual relationship between a 27 year old and an 18 year old is still highly problematic- even though legal. I do not condone these actions in real life, and I doubt Jason would as well. This is purely fictional, an outlet for my fantasies when I was younger. I still do not believe in creative censorship and I want people to enjoy this fic even if it has no place in the real world. We are all allowed to escape into fiction and our own fantasy and enjoy them privately without guilt.

“And this is Jason,” Bruce introduced you to him.

Another one?, Jason thought, though he felt slightly guilty for thinking it. He had many problems with Bruce, but deep down he knew that Bruce adopted all of them out of kindness and good intentions.

“Hey,” he grunted, holding out his hand.

You just looked at him with big, frightful eyes, still sticking close to Bruce’s side. You looked young. You couldn’t have been older than fourteen. Your hair was cropped messily short, and it made you look almost like a young boy.

Jason raised an eyebrow and dropped his hand when you didn’t take it.

“Who’s he?” you whispered to Bruce with a soft voice that the average person wouldn’t have been able to hear.

“He, well,” Bruce hesitated, “He’s Red Hood.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up.

“I decided to tell her everything,” Bruce explained to Jason, “So she can make an informed choice since young.”

“When you’re that young,” Jason glanced at you then back to Bruce, “Anything would sound cool. Even something dangerous that will rob you of your childhood. It’s not an informed choice, you’re basically dangling a cookie in front of her.”

“I’m not young,” you squeaked, “You’re just old.”

Jason scoffed at that.

Though you had voiced out your comeback, you were still shaking in nervousness, refusing to meet his eye.

Jason couldn’t blame you for that. He knew how his eyes looked.

“All of you were younger than her when you chose this life,” Bruce said softly.

“Did we really choose, Bruce?” he argued back.

“I’m not encouraging her,” he defended, “In fact, I’m doing the exact opposite. This time, I’m telling her the truth and nothing but the truth. The good, and the ugly.”

Jason saw how you didn’t like the way the conversation was going, talking about you as if you weren’t there. You had a deep frown on your face that made you look older than you were, but also, paradoxically, a cute pout that brought out the child in you.

“Whatever,” he finally shrugged, “Your kid. As if any of us had a say in anything anyway. If this was the only reason why you asked me to come here, I’ll be leaving.”

He turned to leave the manor, to go back to his safe house.

“Good riddance, old man!” you called out after him in a shaky voice.

Jason looked back and raised an eyebrow. You immediately blushed and avoided his eyes. In the back of his head, he thought about how he could recognize your accent anywhere.

***

The next time Jason visited the manor, which was about two months after the initial introduction, he found Bruce training you basic self-defense in the Cave.

Your hair had grown slightly, and you probably fixed the cut to suit your features better.

“What happened to being discouraging?” he said out loud.

You jumped at his voice, but Bruce looked at Jason knowingly.

“It’s just self-defense,” Bruce explained, “Useful regardless of Robin or not. She’s a fast learner.”

Jason saw how your face lit up at his praise.

Great, he thought. You weren’t even Robin yet and you already got that Robin complex every one of them seemed to have had.

The constant need for praise and emotional connection from Bruce, as well as a sense of delusional idolization of the man who adopted all of you.

“Where’s Grayson?” he huffed.

“Right here, Jay,” Dick’s warm and bright voice came from behind. Jason resisted the urge to jump just like you did.

Dick was already in his Nightwing costume, and walked towards you.

“Hey little sis!” he greeted, arms open. You flung yourself at him for a hug.

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Don’t the two of you live here?” he scoffed.

“Just because you’re emotionally constipated doesn’t mean the rest of us are,” you shot at him.

Jason smirked. You were feisty, yet still wary of him.

He found that adorable.

“She’s right,” Dick chuckled, “You wanted to see me, Jay?”

“Later,” he mumbled, and changed into his alter ego.

Once Jason and Dick were alone on patrol, he brought it up.

“Don’t you disagree with this?”

“With what?”

“Her,” he said, “Or more specifically, him bringing her into all of this.”

“I did at first,” Dick frowned, “But you’ve only met her once, Jay. You don’t live with her. She’s been through a lot, and her being Robin, well, I think it’d be good for her.”

Jason felt his chest tightening. Bruce had always used the excuse that he made all of them into Robin to help channel their emotions into doing good, to prevent them from falling into darkness.

Yet, Jason still did. And he fell right into an abyssal void that he was still trying to get out of.

“Maybe,” Dick continued, “You should get to know her. You’ll see what I’m talking about, and what Bruce sees in her. Tim disagreed at first as well, but after a while, even he warmed up to the idea.”

He frowned at Dick, and then looked away, sighing.

“Whatever.”

***

A month later, Jason had agreed to meet Dick and Tim at a diner.

The food wasn’t that good, and the service average, but it held many memories for him. Dick used to take him there after patrol when he was still Robin. When he went rogue, Dick had brought Tim there. Post-rogue, all three of them would meet up.

He was early, because he was closer. He waited about ten minutes before he saw Tim walking through the door, with Dick behind him. Following Dick, he saw you.

He frowned.

He supposed that he had to get used to you being around, since you were already in the picture.

He didn’t know why he felt like distancing himself from you. With Tim, he had a good reason. A personal reason that he had moved on from.

But you? He had no reason to push you away. Though, Jason had the tendency to push everyone away.

Dick took a seat next to Jason at the booth, and across from him were Tim and you. You were dressed simply in an oversized hoodie he recognized belonged to Dick. It made you seem smaller and younger than you really were. Your hair was in a short bob now. So you were growing it out after all.

Fine. He decided to give you a chance. He had been unfair to you, after all.

“Isn’t a bit too late for you to be out, kid?” he poked at you, “Don’t you have school tomorrow?”

“Fuck you, you colossal freak of nature,” you cussed at him.

Jason was taken aback.

And then he started laughing out loud.

You weren’t so bad after all. The shyness and wariness that you displayed the earlier times almost all gone, and then there was that familiar accent that he somehow felt at ease listening to.

Dick let out a loud groan.

“You owe me twenty,” Tim suddenly said to Dick.

“Come on,” Dick addressed you, “I had faith in you! What happened?”

“It’s just in my nature, okay?” you pouted, “I can’t help it.”

Dick fished out a twenty and threw it at Tim.

“What is happening?” Jason asked, confused.

“I bet ten that the first thing she says to you would be an insult, twenty if she threw in the word ‘fuck’,” Tim grinned.

“And I,” Dick enunciated dramatically, “Thought that she would at least hold it in until after we finished eating.”

“What, you a potty mouth or something?” Jason smirked at you.

“Unless Alfred or Bruce is around,” you grinned.

It was the first time you smiled at him.

“Coward,” he shook his head, “I used to say all sorts of shit even in front of Bruce and Alfred. You gotta step up your game, kid.”

“And Alfred got you bankrupt, didn’t he?” Dick reminded, “You had to put so much of your allowance in the swear jar.”

“I believe in freedom of expression, alright?” Jason huffed, “I had to stand by my principles.”

“Principles?” Tim scoffed, “You?”

“Yes, me, Timbers,” Jason reiterated, “I’m a man of my word. If I’m gonna swear, I’m gonna go all the way.”

“You’re an old man of your word,” Jason heard you mumble.

“I’m only twenty-three, sweetheart,” he responded, “Dick’s the old man here.”

“Am not!” Dick protested.

“Yeah, Dick’s not,” you agreed.

“How does that make any sense?” Jason challenged.

“Because Dick doesn’t treat me like I’m a kid,” you shrugged, “He brings me up to his level, so I don’t see him as an old man. You on the other hand…”

“But you are a kid!” Jason argued back, “What are you, twelve?”

“You know for a fact that I’m fourteen!” you growled.

Jason grinned at you, and expected you to continue defending yourself. But for some reason, you just remained silent, and he saw a blush of red settling on your cheeks.

“Whatever you say, kid.”

***

The time that passed between that night and the next time he came back was shorter. He watched you train with Dick, and saw that you had already improved a lot.

He went back, and came back again, three weeks later. Your moves were faster, cleaner, more efficient.

He went back, and came back again, a week later. You landed a blow on Tim.

Soon, he realised that he was looking forward to his visits, because he wanted to see how much you progressed during the short time he was gone- and you never disappointed.

“She must be training nonstop,” he casually said to Tim one night on patrol. Bruce still didn’t allow you out with them yet, because you were still too new.

“Dude, she wakes up at four every morning to train for two hours before going to school,” Tim told him, “After she gets back, she does her homework and studies for a bit, and then trains again for another three hours before going to bed. She’s borderline crazy.”

Jason frowned to himself.

He knew that pattern. Training relentlessly to lose himself in the physical exertion, to feel like he had some sort of power every time he landed a punch, to regain some sort of control.

You were either running away from something, or towards something.

“I never asked,” he started, “But how did he end up adopting her?”

“Uh,” Tim rubbed the back of his head in hesitation, “I don’t know if I should be the one to tell you. You should ask her yourself.��

“Oh, come on,” he groaned, “You mean to tell me that you asked her yourself? Dick or Bruce didn’t tell you?”

“Of course!” Tim grumbled, “We’re friends, Jason. We hang out. We talk. You’re the only one missing from the circle.”

“Fucking whatever.”

***

He really wanted to ask, he really did.

If not out of care, then out of curiosity.

But honestly, a heart to heart talk with another human being? That wasn’t him.

Yet, he really wanted to know.

He had tried to sit down next to you when you were just watching TV alone in the living room, he had tried to knock on your door while you were blasting shitty music out loud. He had even tried to call you up and see if you wanted to meet him for dinner somewhere.

But he never got to it.

In the end, a year had passed since he first met you, and it was your big night. It was your first debut as Robin.

“Stick to at least one of us,” Jason overheard Bruce instruct you in the Cave, “Don’t go off on your own, don’t act first, and always listen to orders.”

“Yes, sir,” you rolled your eyes, then put on your domino mask.

Jason smirked at your attitude. You had come out of your shell and he learned that you were really a feisty, sassy, annoying little brat.

He thought the Robin uniform suited you. It was more modern than his was- the colors more muted- and he saw that you probably had demanded Bruce to include designs of your own. Like how your black cape sort of shimmered in the light, and how there was fucking lace at the lateral sides of your legs.

Your hair was long now.

All of you split up during patrol, and Jason had found himself panting on a roof after taking down a dozen guys who thought it was a good idea to seek revenge for the time he pissed on them from the edge of a building while they were doing a drug exchange.

It had been pretty funny, the way they were so furiously humiliated.

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a movement. He turned to look at the building from across the street, and saw that you were sitting there on the edge, legs dangling, overlooking the alley below.

He grappled to where you were and silently approached you from behind.

“I thought he told you to stick to someone,” he said.

“Jesus, fuck,” you jumped, “Stop doing that, you asshole.”

“Think of it as training for your ears,” he chuckled, and sat down next to you.

“I was with Bruce, then Dick, then Tim, then I ran away from Tim to find you,” you explained, “Looks like you found me first, though.”

“Why did you want to find me?”

“Dunno,” you shrugged, “It’s my first night. Just wanted to see everyone in action.”

“Well, you missed one big fight,” he said, “Took out a dozen guys in under five minutes.”

“Not bad,” you smirked, “Wish I could have seen it.”

“You will eventually,” he hummed, “It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, because you obviously have done worse,” you poked.

“Is that why you were so afraid of me in the beginning?” Jason wondered, “Because you knew I killed people?”

“I was never afraid of you,” you frowned, “What gave you that idea?”

“You couldn’t stop shaking the first time I met you,” he reminded.

“Fine,” you conceded, “You looked pretty big and scary. And when Bruce said that you were Red Hood, that shook me up a bit. But it wasn’t because you killed people.”

“That’s a first,” he scoffed.

“But now I know that you’re just a massive prick who pretends to be badass to cover up the fact that you’re just a sad, fragile being- well, it’s hard to be scared.”

“Oh, we’re throwing shade now are we?” he snickered, “What about you and your obsession with training just to compensate for the fact that you feel small and weak inside with no control over your life?”

He had expected you to retort, but you just frowned and looked down towards the alley.

Shit.

Jason always had that problem where he didn’t know when to shut up, or what not say to people. Granted, most of the time he didn’t care if the other party got offended or not.

But he didn’t want to hurt you.

He was just going to open his mouth to apologize until-

“I’ve been here before,” you started, “This alley. A long time ago. My big brother- he dragged me here away from my dad so he could beat me up.”

Jason remained silent in shock.

“Not that my dad was any better,” you added, “I guess my brother was like that to me because my dad was like that to him.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. Was he supposed to comfort you? Or tell you something funny to distract you from the sadness?

Instead, he asked, “What about your mom?”

Jason’s mom had been there, yet not fully there. But when she was, he was grateful at least, to know the warmth of a hug in a run down apartment with no heater during the winter.

“Died giving birth to me,” you explained, “Dad always blamed me for it. He’d tell me that he wished I was never born- that he wished he wore a condom when he fucked mom, that at least if she was alive, he didn’t need to fuck whores.”

“And fuck whores, he did,” you continued bitterly, “But they weren’t enough, I guess. He- he even- I-”

You never finished your sentence, but you didn’t need to. Jason was smart enough to put two and two together.

He felt his blood boil, his rage seeping in. It was like he was that Red Hood again. And for the first time since he came back to Bruce, he didn’t try to push that memory away.

He could go rogue again. Just one more time.

“Where is he- they- where are they now?” Jason managed to grit, tasting blood in his mouth.

“Dead,” you snorted, “Thanks to you.”

“What?”

That took him out of his burning anger.

“Turns out dad was working with Black Mask,” you elaborated, “He dragged my brother with him as well. It’s how he managed to afford all those prostitutes and heroin, I guess. I think they were at one of those shipments you crashed or something back then. You left twenty dead.”

Fuck, he remembered.

Black Mask was at the docks, waiting for a shipment of weapons, drugs, and girls. He remembered feeling frustrated that Black Mask slipped away before he got to him, so he took out his anger on everyone else working with Black Mask.

“Lived in the streets after that,” you continued, “Fend for myself. Cut my hair short so people would think I was a boy. I had to stay tough, you know? When Bruce found me, I was doing an odd job for one of the local gangs. Small one. Was supposed to recruit people my age. Start them young, he said. I guess Bruce had been following me for a bit. He approached me and that scared the shit out of me.”

You paused to smile sadly at the memory.

“But he just asked me for my name, and age,” you stared into space, “And he told me that I could do better than that. That I had potential. He asked me if I wanted to help people rather than drag them into dangerous stuff. And how could I say no? Especially after wishing for so long that someone would come and help me when I was with my dad and brother living in a run down apartment with a leaking roof near Crime Alley.”

You finally looked at him.

Jason was glad that he was wearing a helmet, because he wanted to hide from the stabbing guilt he felt. He didn’t want you to see him that way.

“So you’re right,” your blank white lenses pierced his own, “I train because I want to feel strong, because I’ve felt weak my whole life. I train to feel as if I have control over my own body, my own movements. Hell, even the fact that I grew my hair long gave me a sense of control.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason finally managed to croak, “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” you dismissed, “Plus, you did me a favour before. I kind of owe you one.”

“Favour?”

“You got rid of my dad for me,” you stood up, “Thanks.”

And for the first time, looking up at you as you were looking down, smiling at him, he didn’t see you as a kid.

“Sure thing, kid.”

***

Jason started dropping by once every two weeks. Sometimes he would even come around twice in a week.

He had warmed up to you after you told him your story, though he was kind of frustrated that Dick, Tim, and Bruce were all right, and he was the wrong one all along because he didn’t know you.

But then, you also started warming up to him.

And that became the major issue.

Since you donned the Robin uniform, your ego had spiked up. Your confidence and arrogance came with every progress you made. A year into Robin, Jason couldn’t see a semblance of that frightened little girl with the short hair, voice shaking as she tried to insult him.

No, now you were just so fucking annoying.

And for some reason, you started to be more aware of your sexuality as your confidence grew.

At the age of 16, you had started coming onto Jason strong.

“Jason,” you pouted at him, “Why don’t you come stay at the Manor anymore?”

“Because you’re there, kid,” he joked, staring at Gotham’s skyline from the rooftop where you, him, and Batman would occasionally stop to catch a breath.

“Jasooon,” you whined, high pitched and long, “I miss spending time with you.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, because you were touching his arm, squeezing his biceps. Not that you could see his face, given the helmet he wore. He kind of missed how you were back then. All you had were insults and swear words for him, and you definitely didn’t whine.

“Don’t you have Tim to annoy?”

“He’s always busy,” you huffed, “And when he’s not busy, he’s sleepy. Tim’s boring. You’re more fun, in an assholey cocknose dickweed kind of way.”

Ah, there it was, your colorful language. He had to admit, your creativity impressed him.

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” he chuckled.

“So why don’t you come over some time and we can have some fun?” you purred seductively.

Jason was taken aback.

He wasn’t sure whether you meant it innocently, or whether you had hidden motives. He glanced at Bruce who was minding his own business, ignoring the two of you.

He didn’t think you would flirt with him in front of Bruce, so he dismissed it and blamed himself for thinking lewd things.

“My idea of fun involves a bottle of whiskey and B-Grade horror movies, kid,” he patted you on the head, “And you’re too young to drink.”

“Hmph,” you slapped his hand away, “That’s not what I was talking about, but whatever.”

You strutted away.

It wasn’t that he didn’t find you attractive, it was that he shouldn’t find you attractive. What was a 16 year old doing flirting with someone his age? Weren’t you supposed to have crushes on the quarterbacks in your school?

Hell, even if you wanted someone who knew of your nighttime activities, there always were the Teen Titans, whom you regularly joined. That Aqualad wasn't a bad kid, but for some reason he didn't like the thought of you dating just yet.

But still, you had no business with someone like Jason. Age wise, or personality wise.

*** Two weeks later, he dropped by again for movie night.

When he walked into the living room, the only person who quirked up when they saw him was you, probably because the rest had already heard him coming.

“Jay!” you squealed, and ran to him, flinging your arms around his neck in a hug.

“Hey- oomph,” he slightly stumbled. It was the first time you hugged him.

And now that you were so close, he was hyper aware of you. You were wearing shorts and a tank top- with no bra. He could smell your vanilla lotion and your chocolate spice shampoo.

He could feel your strong arms, your heavy weight, your burning heat against him.

And for the first time, he actually got turned on by you.

Fuck, he thought. He shouldn’t be thinking of you like that. As if the age difference wasn’t vast already, you were still underaged.

He awkwardly patted you on the back, in an attempt to respond to the hug. He could make out Tim and Dick snickering at him at his obvious discomfort.

“You’ve gained weight,” he gruffed, trying to break the hug because he was dangerously close to popping a boner.

As expected, you let go of him.

“Yeah, I did!” you grinned happily, “I’ve gained about five pounds of muscle mass!”

You started flexing your toned biceps comically.

“Maybe you can gain five pounds of brain mass next time, kid,” he smirked and ruffled your hair.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a medical condition, you twatwaffle arsebadger,” you shot back at him.

“Jar,” a chorus of lazy mumbles from everyone else rose.

You grumbled and walked towards a coffee table, where a clear mason jar almost filled to the brim with folded notes sat. You shoved in five dollars.

Jason took off his jacket and sat next to Dick on the long sofa. You then hopped towards him and started snuggling next to him.

Jason looked at Dick in question.

Dick merely shrugged.

Jason had a hard time concentrating on the movie that night, because you leaning your head on his chest, and playing with the denim of his jeans absentmindedly.

He wasn’t used to it.

Human contact.

And he knew how you were. You were probably the same with Dick and Tim. You just chose him that night to snuggle up to.

But then you made a comment about how hot the guy in the movie was. Jason didn’t think much of it until you leaned up to press your mouth on his ear and whispered, “Not as hot as you, though.”

That made him jump out of his seat in panic.

Everyone else looked at him suspiciously, but you were just looking at him with a knowing smirk.

“Toilet,” he mumbled, and left.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” he paced in small circles in a washroom down the hall.

He looked at his reflection only to see how red he was at his ears. He gripped the edges of the sink and took deep breaths, trying to play it cool.

Now, it was obvious that you were flirting with him. There was no denying it.

But why on God’s planet were you?

Jason groaned quietly to himself.

Whatever. He thought that you’d probably just drop it eventually.

***

Half a year later, and it didn’t.

And it got bad. Real bad.

Jason still kept visiting regularly, and every single time he did, he would get almost sexually harassed by you.

He was just sitting down in an armchair in the living room, reading a book, when you came along, and with the most arrogant, most entitled smirk, sat on his lap.

“Get off,” he grit, eyes never leaving his book. He was scared of what you were wearing this time.

“But you’re so warm,” you hummed, swinging up your legs across his lap, so that you were being cradled by him and the armchair.

“The fire’s right there,” he pointed to the fireplace, “If you need help, I can throw you in it.”

“I’d rather you throw me in bed,” you purred.

He snapped his book shut and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

“Just. Get. Off,” he growled.

It was dangerous. Your smell was intoxicating, and you were shifting and shuffling against his front. His mind started to wander, and he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

“But Jasooon,” you whined, “You’re nice and soft.”

He glared at you.

And regretted it.

You were wearing an almost see-through white loose t-shirt that exposed your shoulders. The thin fabric clung onto the curves of your breasts which were- thankfully- covered by a pink bra. You had a pair of satin booty shorts on which hardly covered your ass, which was sitting on top of his crotch.

“Actually, no let me take that back,” you pretended to wonder, “You’re pretty hard.”

And you gave him a wicked grin.

His eyes widen in panic and he stood up suddenly, causing you to fall flat on the floor.

“Fuck!” you cursed, “What's the big deal, jizzcock?”

He left the room and rushed to the toilet. He looked down, and found his penis was normal, flaccid, non-erect, unfilled.

That bitch fucking tricked me, he thought.

And he fell for it.

He went to look for Bruce who was in the cave, in front of the computers.

He took a wheeled chair and sat behind him.

“Bruce,” he started, “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?” Bruce asked without sparing a glance at him.

That ticked him off a bit.

“It’s about your daughter.”

Jason saw Bruce pause, and then turned around to finally face him. “What about her?”

“She’s been flirting with me,” he grumbled.

Bruce raised an amused eyebrow.

“She’s sixteen, and she’s flirting with a twenty-five year old man!” he complained, “If she’s doing this to me, God knows who else she’s been doing this to!”

“And?” Bruce questioned.

“And? And?” Jason repeated, “And aren’t you worried?”

“She can take care of herself,” Bruce stated, “She’s mature. She won’t let herself be taken advantage of.

“Look, Bruce,” Jason squeezed his temples, “It’s great that you trust her and all that, but don’t you think it’s kind of fucked up? Christ, she’s sixteen!”

“And she’s well aware of that,” he said, “What would you have me do? Do you want me to talk to her?”

“Forget it,” he gave in, and left for his safehouse without saying goodbye to you.

Because that night he laid on his bed in the dark, guiltily thinking about your ass on his dick earlier. But thankfully unlike earlier, he had allowed his cock to fill up.

He knew he shouldn’t, but he thought of that time when you and him went jogging around the manor. You wore just a sports bra that showed off your cleavage, and sports shorts that rode up your ass. He couldn’t resist looking at the way your tits bounce with every step, and when you ran in front of him, his eyes darted down to check out your ass before he realised what he was doing and excused himself.

Excuse himself because he needed to stop looking, to stop thinking.

But now, he let his thoughts free.

He thought about how that one drop of sweat trickled down between the valleys of your breasts, how your muscular back glistened in the sun, how flushed your cheeks were.

He glanced down at his cock, which was already hard and leaking precum onto his stomach, twitching in need of attention.

“Don’t touch it, don’t touch it,” he muttered.

He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering, but he could try to resist from touching himself.

He owed you that at the very least.

He gulped loudly.

It really wasn’t fair. You didn’t look sixteen, or act sixteen. You were far mature even at a younger age.

But you were still sixteen.

And it wasn’t fair how you could tease him and get away with it.

“Fuck,” he groaned in frustration.

The way you swore sort of turned him on as well, oddly. He loved your use of language, and how dirty your mouth was.

How even dirtier your mouth would be if he shoved his cock in-

“No,” he whined, and he touched his cock.

He stroked it once, twice, three times, and then he came hard, long ribbons splashing onto his chest.

“I am a jizzcock,” he whispered to himself in shame, and then cleaned himself up.

***

Three months later, Jason had just come back from a mission in Mexico. Throughout his trip, he’d been bombarded with texts from you.

The topics spanned from the usual banter about training, Dick, and how you’ve been annoying Alfred with “ok, boomer” memes, to you sending him mirror selfies of yourself in fitting rooms trying out clothes that made Jason almost drool and you attempting to flirt with him.

Jason responded normally to the former, but sent short uninterested texts to the latter.

But when he came back to his safe house, he found his spare handgun on his bed- which was not where he last put it. On it, was a sticky note with a written message:

Try not to lick. R.

“What the fuck?” he muttered. R must have stood for Robin, and then suddenly Jason gulped, wondering what the fuck you had done to his gun.

He opened his phone to check his conversation with you, only to find that you had sent him a ten-minute length video.

His thumbs were shaking when he clicked play.

The video started with a closeup of your face in an awkward position, setting what Jason presumed to be your phone, on a surface with an angle you had in mind. Jason looked behind him and saw that his chair had been placed right in front of his bed, where you must have put the phone on.

“Fuck,” Jason realised. He did not like where this was going.

Or did he?

In the video, you then strolled to his bed, fingers touching his sheets. You were wearing nothing but a white flowy sundress that Jason thought made your skin look absolutely radiant. But instead of sitting on his bed, you had gone out of the frame, and then came back with the gun.

He swallowed hard.

You sat on the edge of the bed with a naughty glint in your eye. And then, you started to caress yourself sensually, squeezing your breasts as you made your way down to between your legs.

Jason realised he had started sweating and panting, getting aroused as his cock slowly started to fill out.

You spread your legs and dipped your hand beneath your dress, but Jason still couldn’t see anything because you had taken the fabric and hid what was going on under. He saw your mouth fall open and you let out a long, loud moan.

“Jason.”

Jason’s breath stuttered. His cock was aching in his jeans, begging to be touched.

Your hands were working underneath the fabric, teasing Jason with only an idea of what you were doing.

“I’m so wet, Jay,” you purred at the camera.

And then, your other hand went to take the gun.

You brought it up to your lips and flattened your tongue against the gun and licked all the way to the muzzle. Even in the low quality, he could see your saliva wetting his gun. Then, you gave him a wink and brought the gun to where your other hand was, between your legs.

Jason stopped the video then and squeezed his eyes shut, breathing hard through his nose at an attempt to calm himself down. Once he did have a semblance of control, which took almost five minutes of just trying to steady his breathing, he opened his eyes and dialled your number.

“Hey, Jay,” you picked up.

“What the fuck?!” he roared, “How the fuck did you get into my safehouse? Hell, how did you even know where it was?!”

“Oh, Jason, please,” he could hear you roll yours eyes, “You’re overreacting.”

“Over-?” he growled, “Overreacting?! You came into my house and then started to- started to-”

“Fuck myself with your gun?” you giggled.

His dick twitched.

“You need to stop this, kid,” he tried to bring his rage in, “Stop it, before you regret it.”

“Or what?” you teased, “What would you do to me, Jason? Spank me?”

He couldn’t. Jason just couldn’t with you. So he ended the call and threw his phone across the room.

He sat down at the edge of the bed and buried his face in his palms. His cock was still aching, and he was dying to touch it.

He glanced at the gun next to him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and then unbuttoned his jeans, letting out a hiss of relief when he could finally take it out.

He started to furiously stroke his cock, just staring at the gun laying there. He wanted to smell it. He wanted to lick it. He wanted to see if he could still taste you on the metal.

“God fucking dammit,” he cursed, and then he came in pulses.

*** “What’s up, fucktrumpet?” you poked.

Jason let out a long and heavy breath from his nose, the sound becoming static as it went through the voice scrambler of his helmet.

It was a week later, and Jason had joined patrol with you, Bruce and Tim.

“Fuck off, kid,” he walked away from you, pretending to be looking out for something from the ledge of the roof.

“Oh, come on,” you whined, coming closer to him anyway. “You enjoyed it.”

“Tim,” Jason turned away to approach the younger man, “How’s things?”

“Don’t ignore me!” you ran after him.

“Leave me out of whatever this is,” Tim sighed. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Pfft, you’re always in the mood for me, Timbers,” Jason nudged his side with his elbow.

“No, she’s always in the mood for you,” he pointed to you, “For some reason.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood for her,” he grit.

“Meanie,” you pouted, “All I’ve ever been is nice to you, Jay. And what do you do? Act like an absolute thundercunt.”

He wanted to laugh at that, but he couldn’t. He had to keep up his appearances.

“Listen here, you brat,” Jason finally turned to you and poked your shoulder hard with his finger, making you wince. “You stay the fuck away from me.”

“Hey, Jay,” Tim suddenly interrupted, “You don’t need to do that, man.”

“This little bitch broke into my house and started defiling my things, Tim,” he growled, “Yes, I need to do that.”

“Defiling your things?” Tim repeated.

You let out a soft giggle.

“Forget it,” Jason threw his hands up in the air. “I’ll patrol alone.”

Jason saw the slight disappointment in your eyes when he left which made him feel a little guilty, but he ignored it.

Whatever, you were basically just asking for it.

***

Another half a year went by, and Jason found himself at the Manor for Dick’s barbecue and pool party. He was already dreading it, because he knew you would be up to no fucking good, especially when you had the excuse to wear a bikini in front of him.

He had contemplated about not going, but Roy was going to be there, and Roy was making him go.

The first person Jason looked out for was you, because he had to be on his guard. He was standing at the glass sliding door of the manor that opened to the pool to survey the crowd. He spotted you in the pool, laughing at who he assumed was Aqualad- Jason didn't bother to learn his name- wearing a dark red bikini top that fixated behind your neck.

“Jaybird! You made it!” Roy’s voice boomed all the way from the other side of the pool and came running to where Jason was standing awkwardly.

He knew many of Dick's friends, but he was never particularly close to any of them besides Roy and Kori. Now that Kori was gone, Roy was all he had left.

“Don't call me that,” he grumbled back.

“Aw, come on,” Roy groaned, “You came to a pool party in a t-shirt and jeans? Seriously?”

“I wasn't planning on swimming,” he shrugged.

Roy was sporting a horrible bright yellow swimming shorts with green palm leaves.

“Well, I was, so I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jason nodded and decided to head to the pool chairs and put on his sunglasses. He even brought a book to bury his nose into to avoid social interaction.

He heard a splash of water and from the corner of his eye, saw you coming towards him.

“Don’t even,” he snapped at you before you could get a word out.

“I wasn't even going to do anything, fucking dipshit,” you shot back.

Jason forced his eyes back to his book to avoid getting caught looking at how the water trickled down your glistening skin that looked oh so soft-

“What do you want then?” he huffed, turning a page.

“Well,” you began, taking a seat on the pool chair where Jason's feet were, “I was going to ask you about Roy.”

Jason glared at you, peeking from the top of his book.

“What about Roy?”

“You guys are close, right?” you hummed.

“I guess so.”

“Like, best friends?”

“What are we, twelve?” he scoffed, “Why are you asking me so many questions?”

“Well, since you're close to Roy,” you started, “I was wondering if you knew his type.”

“His type?”

“Yeah, like what kind of girls does he like?” you grinned.

“Ones who aren't underaged,” Jason growled.

“Jason I'm already seventeen,” you reminded, “Which is the legal age of consent in Gotham.”

“It doesn't matter,” he grumbled, “He's older than me, which makes him way too old for you. Forget it.”

You pouted, and then stood up. He had to redirect his gaze back to his book.

“It’s like you don't even know me, Jaybird,” you snickered, and with a flip of your wet hair which splashed droplets of water onto him, you strutted away.

He was gritting his jaw so hard he could feel his teeth ache.

Fuck, why can't you just stop?

“I need a fucking drink,” he muttered to himself and left for the kitchen where he rummaged through the refrigerator to find a stout.

He popped open the bottle cap on the marble edge of the kitchen island.

“Alfred would kill you if he saw you do that,” a voice laughed.

Jason rolled his eyes at Dick, who was sipping on a can of beer behind him. “I’ve gotten in trouble for worse.”

“God, I forget how similar you guys are,” he leaned against the counter.

“Who?”

“You know who. Her,” he pointed out.

“We’re not the same,” he denied, heading back outside.

“No, she deals with her issues better than you did,” Dick followed him, “As a matter of fact, you're still dealing.”

“Get to the point, Grayson,” he snapped.

“The point is, she’s not a kid, Jason,” Dick told him, “Why don't you give her a chance?”

Jason stopped in his tracks, standing still before exiting through the glass door. It was quieter inside the manor.

“A chance for what?” he grit.

“To prove herself to you,” Dick explained, “I've noticed how you treat her, Jay. Tim as well. It's like you're trying to push her away. Why? You don't think she's good enough?”

“Holy shit,” Jason started laughing humourlessly, “You think this is about me simply not liking her? You guys think I'm just being angsty?”

“Isn't it?” Dick cocked his head to the side.

“She's been fucking flirting with me, Grayson,” Jason said.

“Okay, I get that, but she sort of flirts with everyone,” he shrugged.

“She comes and sit on my lap, whispers stupid shit in my ear, sends me pictures of herself trying on revealing clothes, makes vulgar motions with her hands, fucking tries to seduce me,” he listed down, “Don't tell me she does that with everyone.”

“Okay, maybe not,” the older man frowned.

“Let me tell you, then,” Jason walked closer to Dick, “She broke into my fucking house, sat on my fucking bed, and started recording herself on her phone, and then sent the video to me.”

“Wait, what?” Dick sputtered, “Recording herself doing what?”

“You fucking know what,” he stated.

“Oh, Jesus,” Dick ran a finger through his hair, “Wow, she's ballsy.”

“That's your reaction?” Jason scoffed, “She's ballsy?”

“I mean-”

“She's sexually harassing me, Grayson!” he argued.

“But,” Dick began, “What did you really think about it? I mean, really?”

“What do you mean?” he hissed.

“Did you watch it?” Dick persisted. “The video?”

“What- I- no, I just-” Jason spluttered, caught off guard.

“You can't lie to me, Jason,” Dick gave him a mischievous smile, “You like her, too. That's why you're pushing her away. Because you don't think you're good enough for her.”

Fuck Dick and his fucking superior detective skills.

“She's too young for me,” Jason simply stated.

“Well, apparently not too young for Roy,” Dick smirked.

“What-” Jason turned around and looked outside.

You were in the pool, standing in the corner. You had a hand on Roy’s chest, looking up at him and laughing. He had a hand on your waist, and was whispering something into your ear.

Jason went into a fit of rage when he saw Roy touching you.

“Mother fucker,” Jason swore, and without thinking, went straight to where you were. He stood there at the edge of the pool, arms crossed, and looking down at the two of you who were both unaware of his presence.

“Roy,” Jason growled.

Roy jumped and looked at Jason in panic, and as if you electrocuted him, immediately jumped away from your touch.

“H-hey, Jaybird,” he awkwardly laughed, “I was just- I was- uh- I was telling her about what a great friend you were.”

“Oh, really?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah!” he nodded vigorously, “Jason here is super good with his aim as well. Could even rival mine.”

Jason ignored Roy, and glared at you, who was looking up at him with obviously fake innocent eyes.

“Out,” he commanded.

“What?”

“I said out,” he repeated. “Out of the pool. I need to talk to you.”

“Oh, come on, Jason,” you started to whine, but then stopped when you saw his expression.

You climbed out of the pool, and again, Jason had to avert his eyes. Without sparing a glance at you, he gripped you by the arm and pulled you to go inside.

“Ow! Jason, let go, fucking cocksucker!” you cried.

He snatched a towel from Tim’s grip as he walked, ignoring Tim’s protests and stares from others, and then threw it on top of your head.

“Ugh- Jason!” you complained. He continued to lead you inside the manor, up the stairs, and to his old room.

He slammed the door shut behind him.

“What's the big deal, you shitpouch?! Who do you fucking think you are? Fucking cumwipe, pisswizard, cuntpuddle...”

That wasn't the end of your swearing. You went on for another good minute of words that could make Batman blush, before stopping.

You were fuming. Your face red, your expression twisted into a scowl, water dripping all over the wooden floors, the fluffy towel around your neck that you hadn't used.

God, you were so hot when you were angry.

“You done?” he deadpanned. He sensed that you were going to go into another stream of name calling, so he cut you off.

“I told you to forget Roy,” he grit.

“And since when have I ever done what you told me to do?” you shot at him

You had a point.

“Look, kid-”

“I'm not a fucking kid, Jason!” you yelled at him for the first time, “I haven't been a kid since my dad- since I was twelve!”

Jason suddenly felt pain in his chest.

“I know you've been through shit,” Jason acknowledged, “What happened with your dad and your brother- I’m fucking glad I killed them. And even if I hadn’t back then, I would have broken every single rule and hunt them down and make them suffer before ending their lives after finding out what they did to you. Hell, before you told me that they were dead, I was already ready to turn every single rock to find them.”

Your expression softened at that.

“And I know you had to grow up fast,” he continued, “All of us who lived there did. But you're out of that now. You don't have to fucking try so hard to act older than you are anymore.”

Your eyes shone with anger once more.

“That's the thing you never got, Jason,” you spat, “I'm not trying. I never did. This is who I am.”

You were looking at him with such fierce intensity that Jason almost forgot how to breathe.

Because you were right. He had gone through the same process where he was made to grow up fast, where he couldn’t afford to act like a kid.

He looked at you, trying not to show much emotion on his face.

Somehow in the heat of the argument and you yelling cusses at him, the two of you had gotten closer to each other, and Jason could even see the tears brimming in your eyes that were threatening to spill.

He immediately felt like a piece of shit, like every word you called him. He never wanted to hurt you.

“Whatever,” Jason huffed, looking away to avoid your glare, “Just stay away from Roy.”

“Why, you two dating or something?” you smirked.

He simply glared at you. You obviously had recovered from your anger and was now back to your usual snarky self.

“Or,” you began, “You were jealous.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Jason objected, “Why would I be jealous?”

“Because,” you drawled, walking closer to him, “You like me.”

Jason had backed up each time you walked to him, and before he knew it his back was hitting the door.

Fuck, he hated how much you affected him. You had him backed up against the fucking door, for fuck’s sake.

To get a semblance of power back, he stared at you straight in the eye, unblinking, and leaned closer to you.

“You wish,” he said coldly.

He noticed that your breath stuttered, and a blush creeped up your cheeks.

Then, he leaned back and smirked.

“Oh, no you don't,” you shook your head, “You think you can win this game, Todd?”

“Unlike you, I'm not playing a game.”

“But yes you are, Jay,” you placed your palms flat on his chest, “You’ve been playing hard to get with me.”

“Playing hard to get is only used when the other person actually wants you,” he scoffed.

He didn't know why, but he was sweating. His respiratory rate had gone up, and shit.

Shit.

He could feel his dick getting filled up.

Maybe it was how close you were to him, maybe it was the fact that you were half naked in front of him with all the privacy he could have asked for.

Maybe it was the fact that it was you who had him in a corner instead of the other way round.

“I'm not a fucking idiot, Jay. Batman trained me, too. I've seen how you look at me and I’ve seen how you tried not to.”

Fuck.

“Your pupils dilate, your breathing gets faster, you start to sweat,” you went on, “And then suddenly you excuse yourself. You run away.”

Your hands went up to his shoulders, and your body was now against his, getting his clothes wet. He could smell the chlorine on you when you leaned into his ear and whispered.

“You fucking coward,” you breathed.

Jason's breath hitched and he had to squeeze his eyes shut. He pressed his palms against the door behind him to restrain himself from touching you, grabbing you, squeezing you, slapping you.

Jason knew he was fully hard now, because it was getting painful.

Suddenly, the pressure and heat of your body against his own disappeared. He opened his eyes.

But sucked in a breath when he saw that you were on your knees in front of him, eye level to his crotch, the tent in his pants mere inches away from your lips.

“What the fuck are you- mmpf,” he threw his head back, hitting the door.

You had gripped his shaft hard, sending a pulse of pleasure through his body.

No. Jason had to stop this. He couldn't go through with this. He shouldn't.

“You want me to suck your cock, Jay?” You purred.

Jason swallowed hard, just trying his best to restrain himself.

He remained silent for a beat. And then-

“Do whatever you want,” he managed to choke out.

You showed him a winning grin, and then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, pulling down his jeans.

You started to mouth his length through the fabric of his boxers, getting it translucent with your spit. He had never been so horny in his entire life.

As much as Jason’s head was screaming at him, telling him to stop you, telling him how inappropriate it was, he didn’t have the strength to voice it out.

He wanted to tell you to stop teasing him, to hurry up and put your mouth around his cock already, but again, it was like he had lost his voice.

He was utterly conflicted, so he opt to just stay silent.

You hooked your fingers in the waistband of his briefs and then pulled it down, revealing his cock to you. He hissed slightly at the relief.

Jason wanted to remember your expression the minute you saw his cock forever, he wanted to burn it in his brain and immortalize it. Your eyes had gone rounder, your mouth popped open with a gasp, and your excitement grew.

“It’s everything that I’ve dreamed about and more,” you fluttered your eyes dramatically before gripping his shaft and licking one long, steady stripe from the base to his tip.

Jason bit his lip to muffle his groan.

You licked him again, and again, and then started to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, tracing your tongue around the sulcus underneath his head.

Fuck, you were so fucking good at teasing him, and making him squirm.

He looked down at you, and you were looking up through your long lashes, eyes almost innocent. And then, you took him in his mouth, going all the way down.

“Fuck,” Jason gasped.

You immediately built a rhythm, the most perfect rhythm that he liked. It was suspicious how you knew his preference, and at the back of his head he made a mental reminder to check his room for hidden cameras.

You provided him with the right amount of tongue, the right amount of suction, the right amount of teeth gently grazing him from time to time that he swore could have drove him insane.

Your mouth was soft, and warm, and wet, and before he knew it, he was ready to fucking explode.

As if you were familiar with his expressions, you picked up the pace and started sucking even harder each time you bobbed your head. Jason felt his balls tighten, the heat spreading to his toes and making them tingle.

“Fuck- I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” he rasped.

And then he released with sudden explosion into your mouth, going through a sensory overdrive because as he was releasing, he could still feel you sucking him dry and swallowing.

When he was done, you released his cock with a pop and a grin.

Jason had to catch his breath for a while, because it was the best head he had ever received in his entire life, and he had managed to keep his hands off you the entire time.

“You made me jealous on purpose,” he panted.

“Duh,” you stood up after politely zipping him back up, putting your hands on your waist so fucking proudly, like a power stance.

“Where the hell did you learn how to suck cock that good?” he interrogated.

“You’ve lived in Titans Tower before,” you winked, “You should know.”

He didn’t like that. He didn’t like that statement and implication one bit.

“This can’t,” he started, “We can’t-”

“This can’t happen again?” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. “Typical. Just get over yourself already, Jason. It gets tiring.”

“I’m no good for you,” he avoided your eyes.

“You say that right after coming into my mouth,” you scoffed, “Sure.”

He clenched his jaw. You were right. He was trash for doing that to you, defiling you like that.

Jason must have let his emotions leak, because you suddenly added, “What I meant was, we’ve already crossed that line. We don’t have to go back to how it was before. I like you, Jason. And I know you like me, too.”

“That doesn’t matter,” he muttered, “This was a mistake. We can’t do this again. I’m sorry. Just stay away from me.”

He left.

***

He had avoided you for a long time after that.

Months went by, and he ignored your texts and your calls. Even the knockings outside his door. He had made sure to upgrade his security, with both Tim and Roy’s help so you couldn’t break in again.

When he went on patrols with everyone else, he made sure you couldn’t catch him alone, so he arrived at the very latest, and left at the very soonest, never exchanging more than a few words with you.

And every time, it killed him. He saw the hurt flash in your eyes every time he left quickly, he noticed that you had texted him less and less as the months went on, and eventually came to a complete stop.

You had even stopped calling him those weird, creative swear names that he loved so much.

Jason finally won. He had managed to get you to give up on him.

But hell did it make him feel like absolute shit.

Eight months had passed by, and he was getting ready for the event he had absolutely been dreading. It was your 18th birthday party that Bruce had used as an excuse to host a charity gala at the manor.

Jason thought it was a dick move for him to take advantage of your birthday for the sake of his own gain, but apparently you had been more than supportive over it, understanding Bruce’s position as one of Gotham’s elite.

He didn’t want to go. He couldn’t bear to face you again where you could pull him somewhere private to talk to him. But Dick and Tim had convinced him.

It was your birthday after all.

When he arrived, everyone was staring at him.

Well, he was wearing just a leather jacket over a black shirt and a pair of dark denim jeans after all.

“You couldn’t have dressed for the occasion, Jason?” he heard Tim approach him from behind.

Tim was sporting a suit, just like everyone else.

“Couldn’t be bothered,” he shrugged, “What’s the agenda?”

“Mingling, dinner, speeches, more mingling,” Tim listed down, “Typical charity ball. The others are at the tents. We should get going.”

“I’m the dead son, remember?” he pointed out, “I don’t need to sit with you guys.”

“We’ll introduce you as Dick’s boyfriend or something, come on,” Tim gestured.

“Oh, the media would love that,” Jason muttered under his breath and went along.

The banquet area was set outside in the backyard of the Manor, where tents with clear plastic canopies were propped up, decorated with fairy lights. Since it was spring, the weather was cool enough for suits and warm enough for strapless dresses.

The main tent had a stage where a band was playing classical music- typical tunes you would hear at any other fucking gala.

Each table seated ten, and Tim had brought Jason to a table closest to the stage where he saw Dick, Bruce, and you were already seated with four others. He recognized the Mayor, the Commissioner, Lucius Fox, and a middle aged woman with greying hair he didn’t recognize with who Jason presumed was her husband.

Jason avoided looking at you, but he knew that you were staring right at him. Tim took a seat, and Jason cursed softly when he realised that the only other seat available was in between you and Dick.

Looking straight ahead, he calmly sat down. From the corner of his eye and from a portion of what he could make out, he saw that you were wearing a midnight blue dress, and a silver bracelet around your wrist which you rested on the table.

Bruce had started to converse with the guests, and Dick and Tim were having a banter amongst themselves.

“Hey,” he heard your voice.

“Happy birthday,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” you replied.

And that was that. The two of you remained silent, with Jason occasionally checking his phone and still avoiding looking at you.

“It’s time for our speech,” Jason heard Bruce whisper to you.

He heard you get up and shuffled to the stage. He was hardly paying attention during Bruce’s welcome speech.

“...and then, the woman of the hour, my lovely daughter,” Bruce introduced you. The audience broke out in applause. Jason still hadn’t turned your way.

“Hello, everyone,” he heard your uncharacteristically nervous and shy voice over the sound system. He took a sip of wine. “T-thank coming for you all- uh- I mean-”

The audience laughed, but not in mockery. Jason couldn’t help but look at you now.

He accidentally inhaled his wine, and ended up trying to cover his coughing fits.

Up on stage, where the spotlight was on you, he had noticed your midnight blue dress had small sparkling stars on them, making you seem like you were wearing the clear night sky. Your hair was done in a simple graceful updo, which exposed your neck that he noticed was flushed, a blush creeping up to your cheeks at your own embarrassment.

Your eyes were wide in panic, and you kept on playing with your thumbs subconsciously.

His breath stuttered, because he thought you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on.

You were usually so snarky, so full of confidence, and wit with a mouth that could make a sailor blush- but there you were spluttering all over the microphone, a blushing mess. And hell, did that make Jason’s chest tighten in yearning for you.

“I’m sorry, I’m not used to crowds like my father is,” you tried to laugh it off, “Here, let’s try again.”

Despite your fumbles, you had a certain charm on stage that made everyone just like you.

“Thank you all for coming to my eighteenth birthday party,” you started, “I must admit, at first I wanted my party to be small and intimate. But I realised that this celebration could be used for something good instead.”

Another round of claps.

“I come from a very… humbling area in Gotham. I’m sure we’re all familiar with Crime Alley,” you stated, confidence growing as you got used to being on stage, “It was hard, living as a child in the streets. But I got lucky. Bruce Wayne found me.”

“Being the daughter of Bruce Wayne has taught me a lot about understanding and acknowledging my own privilege and using it to help others. Growing up there, myself and many other children were faced with the harsh reality of poverty and abandonment. Therefore, I would like to announce that I have started a foundation called Wayne’s Foundation for Children of Hope, where all proceeds will go to the development of Crime Alley.”

You paused and smiled at the flashing cameras of the media and waited for the applause to die down.

“Our first initiative is to build a home for lost children aged eighteen and under, to provide shelter, basic healthcare, food, and education. The primary goal of these shelters is to help kids find a place where they belong, and to help set them back on the right track. These kids also have the option to maintain anonymity for cases that involve abusive environments.”

Jason was looking at you in awe. You were standing proudly at the podium, graceful in your posture, a fierce intensity in your eyes- all previous nervousness completely gone.

Next to him, Dick leaned in and whispered, “It was all her idea, you know. Every single plan for this foundation, even the future plans she hadn’t mentioned. All hers.”

Jason remained silent and watched as you continued your speech.

“But the truth is,” you smiled sadly, “It’s still not enough. The situation in a lot of areas in Gotham is painfully swept under the rug. But hopefully with this, people like us can make things a little better for them. If you’d like to donate to the foundation, it would mean a lot to me, and to the other kids who had to grow up too fast.”

You made eye contact with Jason at that last statement, causing his heart to suddenly drum faster.

The crowd broke in a loud applause and you thanked them graciously, waving as you stepped down from the podium to take your seat.

This time, Jason didn’t take his eyes off you.

“That was great!” Tim gave you a thumbs up, “You did great!”

“Well done,” Dick grinned.

Jason took your hand and gave it a little squeeze, just smiling at you in silence. You looked at him with obvious shock, and then grinned back.

“Beautiful, Ms. Wayne,” the Mayor sitting across from you beamed, “You’ve taken after your father’s charms.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” you nodded, “But I’d like to think that my charms are my own.”

Jason had to bite back a laugh when he saw the man turn red.

He was somehow more relaxed now, even sparing occasional glances at you as you conversed with others. The dance floor was now open, and the guests had left their seats to mingle with others. The MC also announced that the bar was open.

“That’s my cue,” Jason winked at you, and then went straight to the bar to get himself something strong. From there, he just leaned back and watched how the disgustingly rich people made themselves feel better about themselves by donating the occasional couple of million dollars. Soon enough, he got sick of the pearls and diamond earrings, the solid gold watches.

He checked his own battered and scratched Swiss Army watch he had lifted from a drug lord many years ago. He should be going back soon. It wasn’t like he was needed there anyway. He had already wished you and made peace.

“What do you think?” he heard your voice approach him.

He turned and saw you come up next to him.

“Too fancy for my taste,” he started, “Looks like it took you a whole hour just to get into the damn thing. And those shoes? Looks like the crowbar was less painful than walking around in that.”

It took you a couple of seconds before realising that he was talking about your outfit.

“I meant the foundation, you fucknugget,” you hissed.

“Be careful there, sweetheart,” he raised an eyebrow, “Don’t want these people hearing you speak like that. You’ll lose your charm.”

“I don’t know how Bruce does it,” you shook your head, “It’s so exhausting.”

Jason hummed back at you as a comfortable silence fell. The two of you leaning back against the bar and just watching the crowd.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he finally said.

“Thanks,” you pursed your lips, “I kept on thinking of you, you know? When we were coming up with the plans. Was wondering what you would think of it.”

“You’re making it sound like I’m the only one from there.”

“Well, you’re the only one who would understand,” you explained, “The others, of course they empathized. But they wouldn’t understand. Not like how you and I do.”

And Jason realised that it was that factor that probably drew you close to him when you first came to them, the fact that Jason understood at more than just a superficial level how shit your life was before coming to the manor. It was a painful past that only the two of you shared, and only the two of you could talk about.

Silence fell again.

“I’m sorry,” you suddenly brought up.

“For what?” he frowned.

“For making you uncomfortable for so long,” you whispered, “I don’t know why I did it. I guess I liked your reactions. And I guess I just wanted your attention. And during that pool party- I- I thought-”

Jason waited for you to finish your sentence.

“Nevermind,” you looked away, “Forget it. I just wanted to say sorry. I crossed the line. After you stopped talking to me, I just. I don’t want that. So I’ll stop, okay? You don’t have to avoid me anymore.”

He turned around to face you.

“I stopped talking to you not because I was mad at you,” he told you, “I stopped talking to you because I was mad at myself.”

You faced him with curious eyes.

“I thought- well- fuck,” it was Jason’s turn to splutter. He took a deep breath and started again. “I thought that it was a real shit move for me to do what I did to you.”

“Wait, what?” you questioned, “What you did to me?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, “You know. That.”

“Jason, I was the one who practically jumped you,” you scoffed, “I basically forced it on you. Why are you blaming yourself?”

“Force me? Pfftsh, you couldn’t force me to do anything.”

“Jason.”

“I liked it, okay?” he threw his arms up, “I didn’t stop you because I liked it, and I shouldn’t have liked it. I was taking advantage of you. It was wrong of me to do so.”

“God, you’re so fucking stupid,” you laughed, “I’ve been pining over you since Bruce told me you were… You know who.”

You lowered your voice.

“Want to talk inside?” he offered.

“Good idea,” you agreed.

The two of you made your way past the garden and into the manor.

“Is it okay for the birthday girl to disappear from her own party?” he smirked when he closed the door to Bruce’s study, which was the nearest room that offered privacy.

“Oh, please,” you waved your hand and sat on Bruce’s desk, “The whole party was never about me. I’m just another excuse for those cuntflaps to show off their new diamonds.”

He chuckled. “Anyway, you were saying? Something about Bruce telling me I was Red Hood?”

“Yeah,” you bit your lip in nervousness, “I’ve had a crush on you since then.”

“Really?”

Jason knew that you obviously had a crush on him, especially because of the neverending teasing and seductions, but he didn’t know it stemmed from that long ago.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I remember thinking to myself, like wow. This is the guy who killed them. And you know what? You looked exactly like how I thought you would.”

“What? How so?”

“Huge,” you started, “Scars everywhere. Grouchy as hell.”

“I’m not as grouchy as Bruce,” he defended himself.

“Still,” you chuckled, “You looked exactly like how I imagined my hero to look.”

“Super hot, sexy, and good looking?” he joked.

He had expected you to roll your eyes and throw an insult at him, but you just tightened your lips and looked away.

“Look, k- sweetheart,” he stopped himself from calling you a kid. From what he saw on the stage earlier, you were already so much better than he was. “I’m going to be honest, alright? And you better damn well appreciate it, because I’m never honest.”

You giggled softly. He walked to stand in front of you at the desk.

“I think you’re great,” he stated, “And I think you’re beautiful, and sexy. And…”

He hesitated, thinking of whether or not to continue.

Fuck it. He might as well.

“And I like you,” he forced out, “More than you know. Fuck, I like you. I like you so much it fucking hurts sometimes.”

You looked up at him with hopeful, glistening eyes.

“But I’m no good for you,” he repeated what he said all those months ago, “I can never do what you just did. Start a fucking charity on your birthday and announce it to the world as if it was nothing. Fuck, I don’t think I should even be seen walking around next to you when you look like that. I’m a fucking mess, sweetie. You don’t want that.”

He saw as you digest what he had just said. Then, you looked up at him and asked, “What do you think I want?”

“What do I think?” he repeated.

You nodded.

“I think you should be with someone who’s closer to your age, for one,” he rolled his eyes, “And someone who doesn’t have scars all over their face. Someone who isn’t grouchy. Someone charming who can stand next to you on stage wearing a proper suit and tie.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, “I should be with someone like that.”

Jason felt a pang in his chest at your agreement.

“But I don’t want to be with someone like that,” you continued, “I want to be with someone who was ready to hunt down and hurt the people who terrorized me for years. I want to be with someone whose face is littered with scars as proof that they went through just as much shit as I did and survived.”

You hopped from the desk and stood up straight, stretching your hand up to cup Jason’s face. He leaned into the warmth of your caress, his breath hitching at the close contact. His hands automatically went to rest on your waist, still respectfully high.

“I want you, Jason,” you whispered, pulling him down to your lips, “I want someone who can handle my bites.”

To demonstrate, you sucked in his lower lip, eliciting a low moan from him.

And then you bit down hard.

He gasped at the stinging pain, and then sighed when you massaged his lip with yours. Heat suddenly spread throughout his body, particularly at his member which was growing hard fast. He could smell the wine on your breath that you must have snuck a few sips from, the vanilla lotion you always wore, and a new particularly enticing perfume that you must have gotten for the occasion.

“I want someone who can call me a little bitch straight to my face,” Jason felt you grin against his lips.

The two of you were kissing now, harsh and forceful, as if deprived of touch. Fuck, he loved how you were nipping at his lips and his tongue, tugging his hair lightly.

Both of you gasped for air, and just stood there foreheads against each other, his erection pressed against your stomach, your hands around his neck.

“I want someone who is resourceful enough to enhance his home security to make sure I don’t break in and fuck myself with his weapons again,” you chuckled.

“Was it…” he started, “Was it loaded?”

“You bet it was,” you smiled.

“Fuck,” he swore and then crashed his lips against yours again. He lifted you up to sit on the desk, and then stood in between your open thighs. At the slightly elevated level, he could properly grind his erection against your pussy, still covered by your dress.

“You liked that?” you giggled, “I thought you weren’t into that. I got a bit worried.”

“Hell yeah, I liked that,” he rasped, “What kind of sane man wouldn’t?”

He started to nibble on the skin on your neck, sucking and biting and licking

“I’m pretty sure not everyone is into the thought of fucking a loaded gun into a pussy,” you laughed, “Which proves my point. You and me? We’re perfect, Jay- fuck, don’t leave any marks, dumbass.”

“Point taken, baby.”

“Mmm, call me that again,” you moaned.

He stopped nibbling on your neck, brought his eyes to yours, and with a defiant smirk, he said, “No.”

It was like Jason saw the switch in you flick on, because you suddenly pushed him away aggressively. He stumbled, not expecting it.

“Oh, you think you’re in control, Todd?” you purred, twisting your fists in his leather jacket. You were shorter than him, and your frame much smaller. But Jason just loved the authority that radiated from you.

“You think you’re the one who has power over me?” you drawled, pulling him to the side where Bruce had set up a leather sofa and a coffee table.

“When all this while, I’m the one who had you wrapped around my finger?” you snarled, and then pushed him down on the sofa.

Before Jason could even register what was happening, you were already on top of him, straddling him. He looked up at you, the pressure of your weight on his crotch making him pant with want.

“So are you going to call me baby again?” you asked sweetly, tugging at his jacket to remove it.

“Maybe in due time,” he gasped when you bit the flesh that connected his neck and shoulder hard.

Fuck, he was throbbing in his pants.

You took off his shirt and ran your hand down his body. Jason smirked when he saw you bite your lip as you took in his figure.

He still had a bit of fight left in him, and he wasn’t going to beg.

Yet.

“Why must you be so stubborn, Todd?” you breathed, teeth catching at his earlobe and biting. You were rocking your hips against his erection, and he swore that if you didn’t take it out, he was going to rip a hole in his pants with it.

“H-hey, you’ve always been the pushy one,” he stuttered.

“That’s because I like to get what I want,” you pinched his nipples hard.

“Fuck!” he yelped at the sudden pain, and then glared at you as you just grinned cheekily. “I don’t know why I never took you for a sadist before this.”

“Because you’re an idiot, Jay,” you teased, “All I did was torture you.”

“Yes, you did,” he rested his hands on your hips, motioning for you to grind on him harder, “You made me so fucking hard on purpose, and then I had to go back and jerk off to you, which made it worse because I felt so fucking guilty after.”

“That was your own fault,” you frowned. You were finally, finally unbuckling his belt. “You saw me as a kid when I wasn’t.”

“You were still underaged, you brat,” he laughed, “It didn’t matter if you were wise beyond your years- ah, fuck yeah.”

You had finally unzipped him, releasing him from the constraints of his denim.

“Take everything off for me, Jay,” you demanded, sitting up on your knees to give him room to do so.

He listened to you happily, glad to be rid of his clothes. His cock slapped against his lower abdomen, already leaking so much precum.

“Why am I the only one naked?” he voiced out his displeasure.

“Because it took me twenty minutes to get into this dress, and I’m not undressing for anyone before the night is over,” you announced.

“But, baby,” he pouted, rejoicing at how he made your breath hitch, and rested his chin between your breasts, “I want to see your tits.”

You frowned and bit your lip as you looked down at him, considering his plea. He made a mental reminder that you must like dirty talk.

“Then make sure you don’t go home so early tonight,” you managed to choke out.

Jason thought that you also must have liked to be the submissive one, as well.

You leaned into him and kissed him again, this time less rough. He moaned into your mouth, slipping his tongue in as he grabbed your hips and tried to rub his cock against your pussy, underneath your dress. He gasped when he felt that you were already bare, and leaking.

“What happened to your- your panties?” he rasped.

“Long gone,” you winked.

“Fuck, you fucking nymph,” he chuckled, and then groaned when you started to slide the head of his cock between your wet lips.

“Jason, I’ve wanted your cock so bad,” you muttered into his ear as you rubbed your slick all over his length, “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve fucked myself with- with whatever I could find, pretending it was you.”

“Fuck, baby,” he whined, throwing his head back against the couch. Your dirty mouth was doing so many things to him, he was worried that he was going to come right there and then.

“After that time I sucked you off?” you continued, “All I wanted was to choke on it, Jay. I just want your dick in my throat.”

You lifted your hips and sank down onto him. Both of you groaned lowly in pleasure. Fuck, you were so tight, and warm, and wet, and oh so soft.

“Ah! Jason!” you cried out when he bottomed out, “Fuck, I’m going to feel you for fucking days.”

“Shit, baby,” he choked, “Baby, please. Please, move.”

“You want me to move?” you teased.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“How would you like me to move, Jay?” you smiled.

“Any- I don’t care-”

“Nice, and slow like this?” you lifted your hips up, and Jason could feel the torturously slow drag of your walls against his shaft, even as you sanked back down you were slow.

“Hnng- fuck-” Jason mewled, lost for words. “Please.”

It was all he could say.

“Or hard and fast like this?” you slammed your hips down, and started bouncing on his cock at a brutal pace that knocked his breath out.

“Fuck!” he yelled, “Fuck, baby, fuck!”

You weren’t being any softer as well. Through tear-filled hazy eyes, Jason saw your eyes fluttered close in pleasure, your mouth falling open as you cried out wanton moans, and gasped, and groaned for him.

“Jason! Fuck, Jay, fuck!”

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He gripped your hips hard, and then started to fuck himself up into you, matching your pace, making you fucking scream.

He could feel your walls tighten around his cock, the same time you started whining, “Jason, Jason, I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

“Me too, sweetheart, me too,” he gasped.

“Come inside me, Jason, please!” you sobbed.

“But-”

“Just- just- please, please, please,” you squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back.

Jason felt your pussy clench tight onto him, triggering his own orgasm. He released inside you while still fucking you hard, trying to prolong both of your highs.

Soon, he was oversensitive, the feeling of your walls almost painful. You calmed down, still panting above him, and he just couldn’t help but stare at you in amazement.

“Holy shit,” you giggled above him, “Holy shit, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Uh- I,” he panicked, “I came inside of you, fuck!”

“I’m on the pill, don’t worry,” you smiled, “Fuck, I just. I just wanted to walk around after this with my panties soaked in your cum.”

“How the fuck are you eighteen and already so fucking kinky,” he groaned.

You only laughed and slowly lifted yourself off of him. He hissed at the movement, feeling hypersensitive at every touch.

You went to look for your panties, which Jason noticed were a lacy black, and then put them on under your dress.

He was still sprawled out on the sofa naked, sweaty, and well spent.

“I also didn’t want any of your spunk to get on my dress,” you told him.

“S’pretty dress,” he mumbled back to you.

“You should get dressed, Jay,” you walked towards him, hands on your hips.

“Do I need to get back out there?” he complained, “Can’t I just wait in your room?”

“If you get dressed and attend the party, I’ll let you fuck me with one of your guns,” you promised.

“Really?” his eyes widen, and then he jumped back up to put on his clothes.

“I gotta tell you something, though,” you started.

“What is it?” he hummed, tucking his black shirt into his jeans.

“The safety was on,” you said, “On the gun, I mean. It was loaded, but the safety was on.”

“Oh, baby,” he looked at you seriously, “If you told me the safety was off, I would have shot you myself for being so stupid.”

You giggled.

He gave you his arm. “Shall we?”

“Yes, we shall,” you took it. “By the way.”

“What?”

“Are you going to switch back to a more lax security?”

“And have you breaking in again? You wish, kid.”

374 notes · View notes

ikleesfiction · 3 years

Text

Miss Americana

Fandom : Crossover Hawaii Five-0 x Chicago PD TV Word count : 5,610 words Pairing : Steve McGarrett x Danny Williams; Jay Halstead x reader

Summary : You met Williams-McGarrett family in Los Angeles and they introduced you to Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Your boyfriend, Jay Halstead, doesn't know anything about this. Yet.

Author's note :

This is the fourth one shot of "Will you follow through if I fall for you" fic continuation. It would be better if you read it first. But if you don't, here's the quick summary.

This happened after I listened to a few podcasts (1 🞂 2 🞂 3) of Scott Caan and Alex O'Loughlin, passionately talking about Brazilian Jiu Jitsu.

This fic does not comply to the canon of Hawaii Five-0 or Chicago PD. So if you don't follow one of the other, it should not be a hindrance, I think. Here's hoping that I'm right.

Disclaimer

◢◤

"Would you like another cup of coffee?

You look up from the book in your hand to the waiter addressing you.

"Oh, I would love to. But it's already my fourth cup of the day," You grimace at him. "Maybe I'll take a bottle of water, please? Cold, if you have one."

The waiter grins at you, "Sure thing," then leave with your empty cup of coffee.

You are supposed to meet your friend, Tim, at his house on The Bird Streets to work on a song. However, he got a sudden appointment and asked you to wait for his call to reschedule. So here you are, sitting at a Cafe/Bistro somewhere in Los Angeles, drinking too much coffee.

You check your watch and your phone. It's almost lunchtime, but your phone is still showing nothing. Alright then, you thought to yourself, back to the book. Your eyes immediately find the last paragraph you read on Astrophysics for People in a Hurry.

Five pages later, the waiter puts a bottle of water on your table, "Here it is. You sure you don't want another cup of coffee?" He jokes with you.

You laugh in response, "No, really, thank you."

The waiter leaves with a smile and turns to the table across from yours. That's when you notice somebody's sitting there.

"Good afternoon. Only for two?" The waiter lays two menu cards on the table.

"Four. My husband and daughter are parking the car." The man answers him with a smile. He has a little boy sitting next to him. His son, you guess, since both of them have blond hair. Their noses look similar too.

"Danno, can I have ice cream for lunch?" The boy begs his father, pointing at one of the delightful pictures on the card.

"Hmm, maybe." The father hums his reply. He exchanges a knowing glance with the waiter.

"Do you want anything to drink while you're waiting?"

"Soda!" The boy yells from his chair, who laughs at his father's glare.

"How about two glasses of orange juice?" The father checks to his son before confirming it with the waitress.

"Okay, be right back with your drinks."

After the waiter leaves, the boy begins to prattle about everything to his father. About giraffes at the zoo ("They are so tall like Dad!"), about his favorite ice cream flavors ("Cookie Dough. But I like Kame's shave ice better, Danno"), about swimming at Venice Beach ("There's a lot of people there, Danno. I like our beach more")

The boy doesn't even look like he needs to breathe. You can't help but let out a chuckle. His father looks up at you and shares a grin. "That's great, Charlie," He comments to his son.

You let their conversation become a white noise while you read your book.

At your periphery, you see someone passes by. However, you don't expect a hand to suddenly sneak your phone from the table. Your hand instantly grabs that wrist, trying to stop it from stealing your phone. But the thief forcefully pulls his hand out of your reach and moves away.

Unfortunately for the thief, he runs straight to the father at your neighboring table. The man has no problem flipping the thief over and pushes him to their table. When the thief squirms away from his clutch, the man lifts the thief's elbow high up and turns it behind his back in a very painful lock. The unpleasant sound coming out of the thief's mouth proves how excruciating it is.

The man's eyes wander. Many shocked faces are staring at him, including yours. "It's okay, I'm a cop," He explains.

In contrast to the crowd, the boy looks at his father in awe, gleefully clapping his hands.

"Charlie, why are you clapping? You're not supposed to clap at this. Oh my god, you are just like your father! Happy to see any aggression," The man rants as he takes out a cable tie from his trousers' pocket. You don't even know why he got cable ties in his pocket. He efficiently ties the perp's hands behind his back and forces him to sit.

Only then, the man addresses the crowd again, "Has anyone called 9-1-1?"

"I did. The police are on the way," One of the cafe's staff squeaks from the door, with a phone still in her hand.

"Excellent! Did you hear that? Your ride would be here soon," The man tightly squeezes the thief's shoulders. The thief could only reply with an agonized grunt.

Everybody else resumes their activities with a sporadic look to their table.

The boy picks up the stolen phone from the floor. It fell near his foot during the short scuffle. "Danno," He hands your phone over to his father.

"Ah, thanks, Charlie," The man ruffles the kid's hair and kisses the top of his head.

"I believe this is yours?" The man returns the phone to you. "Hope it's still working?" He cringes at the spiderweb marks on the phone screen.

"Thanks. Probably not. But it's alright." You smile at the man and offer to shake his hand, "Y/N Y/LN, thanks again for helping me,"

The man takes your hand, "Hey, no big deal. Danny Williams. And this is my son, Charlie," Danny brings Charlie in front of him. You extend your hand to Charlie as well.

All of a sudden, you hear voices yelling from behind you. "Danno! Charlie!"

You look back to see a tall, dark, imposing man and a beautiful teenage girl rushing in your direction. Charlie shouts back at them, "Daddy! Gracie!"

So you guess they must be Danny's husband and daughter.

This new man drops down to Charlie's level and checks on him, trying to see if he's injured. "Are you okay? Charlie?"

"Dad! Dad! Danno was soooo cool! He pushing and then flipping and then that man went aaargh!" Charlie re-tells the scene to his father, holding his elbow behind his back to show him.

Couldn't really understand his son's story, the man asks his husband to elaborate, "Danny, what's happening here? Why are you arresting this man?"

"I'm not arresting anybody, Steve. We don't have jurisdiction to make an arrest, you know? Since we are in LA, not Hawaii? I'm just holding this man until LAPD shows up," Danny clarifies to his husband, Steve.

"But why?" Steve is still confused.

"This guy here, what's your name?" Danny barks at the thief. But his mouth stays glued. "Really? Would you prefer my ex-SEAL here asking you the question?" Danny gestures in Steve's direction.

Steve stands tall. His hands are folded in front of his chest. His biceps bulge in his tight t-shirt. The thief's face turns green, looking fearful. Steve's scowl was probably not helping either.

"Danny?? What's going on here?" Steve begins to lose his patience.

"What?? It's no big deal, babe!" Danny yells back at Steve. "This guy here tried to nick this woman's phone. I'm just helping her," Danny motions in your direction.

"Y/N, here's my husband, Steve McGarrett, and our daughter, Grace," Danny continues to introduce you to his family. You shake their hands and exchanging simple pleasantries.

"As I said, I just helped Y/N to get her phone back. Now we are waiting for LAPD," Danny ends his explanation.

Shortly a police car comes, and two officers quickly take their statements. Initially, the police officers are bemused to find the thief already sat with his hands tied behind his back. After Danny explains that he is a Detective from Honolulu PD and how he prevented the attempted theft, the police officers understand the situation. They ask if you'd like to press charges on Tom Norris, that's the thief's name according to his ID. Considering you're not hurt, you decline on pressing charges. The police are gone with the thief sooner than you expected.

"Can I treat you lunch for your trouble? Shoot! A super late lunch?" You corrected after checking your watch.

"Hey, don't worry, it's no trouble at all," Danny says to you with a big smile.

"No, no, seriously. You guys were on holiday, I guess. But still bothered to help me. Lunch is the least I can do."

Before long, they arrange to get a table for five and talk a lot during the meal.

◢◤

"So you guys are from Hawaii? That's nice!" You tell the family.

"See, Danno? That's what you're supposed to say about Hawaii. You're the only one who describes Hawaii as a pineapple-infested hell hole," laments Steve to his husband.

"I'm just telling the truth, babe. How about you, Y/N? Where are you from?" Danny tries to find out.

"Originally from The Netherlands, Amsterdam. But I moved to Chicago last year," You reply.

"Now that, Steve, is a city that would appreciate seasonal changes," Danny nods his approval of Chicago.

"Only you, Danno, who whines about constant sunshine." Steve grumbles.

Grace and Charlie don't react much to their parents' bickering. Too used to their silliness. But you still find it quite funny.

"So you guys are here for vacation?" You ask the family.

"Kind of. We are on holiday. Also, we are visiting the colleges here for Grace, who will graduate high school next year," Steve throws his right arm around Grace's shoulder.

"Yes, we are on an excursion to prove to Grace that LA universities are not better than the University of Hawaii," Danny quips from Steve's left.

Grace whines at his father, "Danno..."

"Danny here doesn't want his children to be far away from him," Steve enlightens you. "But I think going to school in LA would be better than The Netherlands. Wouldn't it, babe?" Steve winks at Grace.

"Do not joke about that, Steven!" Danny elbows his husband hard.

Grace looks thoughtful for a moment, "Y/N, did you go to college in the Netherlands? What do you think my chance to study there?"

"Gracie, can I come with you to This Otherlands?" Charlie innocently chirps to his sister.

Steve is laughing so loud, even after Danny punches his arm.

"What about you, Y/N? What are you doing in LA? Are you on vacation too?" Danny questions you after the laughter receded.

"I'm here for work. Most of the time, I'd do it remotely from Chicago. But sometimes I have to make the trip here or to Amsterdam," You tell them.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a music producer," You give a simple answer.

"What instruments do you play?" Steve is curious. "Guitar?"

"Mostly piano and synthesizer. I do play guitar, but I'm just an okay guitar player. I wish I could play better,"

"Dad plays guitar too!" Charlie happily declares as he points at Steve.

You cheer at Charlie's enthusiasm, "Does he? That's great!"

"Yeah, he plays very well. Maybe Dad can teach you to play better," Charlie directs you.

"Oh, yes, that would be awesome," You wholeheartedly agree with Charlie, as the rest of the table laughing at the idea of Steve teaches music.

◢◤

"Danny, I was wondering if you could explain something to me," You turn to the man.

"Shoot," Danny nods as he puts down his juice glass.

"The arm lock that you did to the thief. Where did you learn that? Did Steve teach you that?" You ask him, genuinely want to know.

"Well, even though Steve here was the Navy SEAL," Danny glares at his husband, who replies with a smirk, "I have been working as a cop for more than 20 years now. I know some moves too,"

"But that's not a cop's move," You contradict him.

"How do you know any cop's moves?" Danny confronts you back.

"My boyfriend is a cop in Chicago," You give Danny a sheepish smile.

"Ah, I see. Did your boyfriend teach you self-defense?"

"He did. I'm nowhere near good as Jay. But it's a start," You answer Danny.

"Of course. If he's not good at it, then he's not a good cop," Danny comments without sounding too arrogant.

"Jay also taught me about guns. Personally, I don't like it, but he needs me to know about it, especially gun safety. So..." You shrug.

Danny nods his understanding, "Yeah. Be glad that he doesn't bring home grenades or other explosives," Danny gives Steve a stink eye. "Unlike some Super!SEAL here,"

Steve is immune to that look. It doesn't seem to affect him anymore.

You smile at their interaction, "Jay was an Army Ranger. After he came back, he went to Police Academy,"

"Really?" Steve looks interested.

"Oh, here we go," Danny sighs at his husband.

Steve grins but decides not to comment on it any further. He goes praising Danny instead.

"But Danny is being too modest here. He is a great fighter. Sometimes he's even better than me. Which lots of people find it surprising, considering I was a SEAL,"

"and don't you forget it, babe," Danny smirks at Steve, who returns it with a chaste kiss.

You sigh internally. Looking at the lovely couple made you miss your boyfriend, Jay.

"In all seriousness," Danny begins, "I practiced Jiu-Jitsu since high school. That's where the moves come from," He pauses to sip on his drink.

"I got my Blue Belt when I entered The Police Academy. For me, I think, I learned how to fight better in Jiu-Jitsu than what they taught us there," Danny continues.

"Do you also teach it to Grace and Charlie?" You ask the parents.

"Yeah. Danny taught them both as early as possible. Grace already got her Yellow Belt when we first met. Now she is working for her Purple Belt," Steve brags. Danny also looks so proud. Grace, though, tries so hard not to roll her eyes at her parents.

"Me too! I will get my Yellow Belt soon! Right, Danno?" Charlie exclaims.

"Of course you are kiddo. After that, you surely can beat your Dad here," Danny ruffles Charlie's hair. Steve offers his palm for a high five, but Charlie punches it instead. He giggles when Steve is faking to be hurt by Charlie's tiny fist.

"Do you think I could learn it too?" You inquire to Danny.

Danny and Steve look at each other. You're waiting for their answer, hoping that they will agree.

Before they decide anything, Grace interrupts, "We can go check out the place that Sensei Egan told us, Danno."

"Yeah, that's a great idea," Steve agrees to his daughter's suggestion. "We can check that dojo for Grace, meeting the instructor. Maybe could show some moves too for y/n,"

"Okay then. Grace, share the dojo address with y/n. We can meet you there tomorrow morning, what do you say, y/n?" Danny asks you.

You're supposed to fly back to Chicago next afternoon, but what the hell, you are very interested in this offer. "Yes, sure. If you don't mind me crashing your holiday plan again?"

"No, not at all. We need to check out that place anyway." Steve waves off your worry.

Grace passes her phone to you. "You can puy your number there. I will forward you the address,"

You tap your number to Grace's phone before groaning when you remember that your phone is dead. "Could you e-mail me instead? I don't think I could replace my phone soon,"

Danny doesn't even try to hold his laugh at your poor luck.

◢◤

The next day, you take an Uber to the gym. No, it's The Dojo. You correct yourself. When you step in, Charlie is shouting at you from across the room. "Y/N!" Standing next to his sister, Charlie crazily waves at you, worried that you could not see him.

You remove your shoes, placed them accordingly at the remarked spot. Walking towards Charlie and Grace, you see the Williams-McGarrett clan wear similar outfits with other people in The Dojo. The only differences between them are their belts. Danny wears a Black Belt with a red stripe, while Steve wears a Brown Belt. Grace has Blue Belt, and Charlie has a White one. Knowing that you will do some workout, you wear a black t-shirt and training pants. Definitely a contrast in a room full of jiu-jitsu outfits.

Danny and Steve are talking to a guy on the other side of the room. This guy has a Black Belt with more stripes than Danny's, indicating that he is the instructor here.

"Hey, guys. Good morning," You greet Grace and Charlie. They reply with a big smile.

"Just out of interest, do you guys always bring your uniform on your holiday?" You gesture to Grace's clothes.

Grace laughs at your question, "It is called Gi. Yes, we are always bringing them along on holiday," She laughs again at your shocked face. "No, I'm joking. It's because we know we will visit this dojo, so we have our Gi with us,"

Soon Danny and Steve come over to your side. "Hi, y/n. So I talked to Sensei Marcus there," Danny gestures to the guy he spoke to. "We are going to follow their training for today. You can watch from the side if you're not sure you want to do it. The first hour would be the class for Kids and Teens,"

You see Grace and Charlie lining up in the center of the room with other children. They seem to be divided by belts instead of age.

"The next hour would be the adult class," Danny pauses for a moment. "If you want my suggestion, I encourage you to join the Teens class. I hope you don't feel insulted by that."

You chuckle at his words, "Not at all. I understand,"

"If it's too much, don't hesitate to stop and move aside. Everyone will understand," Steve adds.

You exhale softly, readying yourself, "Okay," before joining the line.

The first fifteen minutes, they start with stretching. So far, you have no problems with it. You practice Yoga for the last few years. You know how to stretch.

The next one, they teach you how to fall correctly. Which turns out to be a hard thing to do. At first, an instructor's assistant helps you. After a few moments, she moves away to help others. But you're still not doing it right. So Danny pulls you aside and teaches you privately for the rest of the hour.

You fall so many times until it tired you out. You cannot even get up from the mat. Your shoulders would have been bruised with so many times you landed incorrectly.

"Still interested to learn this?" Danny grabs your hand to help you get up.

Even though the lesson exhausts you, you feel great. You learn a lot, even from doing the same thing over and over again. "Hell yeah!" You grin at Danny.

"Crazy woman!" Danny pats your shoulders. Right where it hurts the most. You can't help but flinch away.

"Hurt, wasn't it? Why don't you go sit down on the outside of the mat with Charlie?"

Charlie sits on one side of the mat, a bottle of water in his hand. He is watching Grace, who has her hands on Steve's Gi, trying to throw Steve down.

Danny silently pays attention to his husband and daughter on the mat. But you can see his hands slightly move as if he's the one sparring.

Shortly, Grace has a chance to push Steve. Steve lost his balance for a moment before countering her attack. Grace would've fallen down hard if Steve didn't hanging to Grace's Gi so tight to slow her fall.

"That's great, Grace," Steve says to his daughter as he helps her up. They bow to each other to end the spar. Danny is clapping from outside the mat, "Good job, Monkey,"

Of course, you and Charlie follow Danny's example to cheer for Grace.

You still sit on the side of the mat, now also accompanied by Grace. You watch the next class practice, where Danny and Steve spar with other students for about an hour.

After the class is done, Steve taps on Danny's shoulder, "Danny, could you help me with this move?" He nods in the direction of the mat.

Danny responds with rolling eyes at his husband's antics.

Grace runs commentary in the background, "Dad didn't actually need help from Danno. However, you're not allowed to ask a higher belt to spar with. It's a sign of disrespect. But Dad and Danno often work differently between each other,"

You see Danny and Steve taking place at a ready position. It takes time before anybody falls, or one locks each other. They move fluidly. When one throws the other, they quickly bring them down along then keep them in a lock. The locks are soon countered, and they back up again. The great thing is they look like they enjoy sparring with each other. They share a laugh whenever someone throws the other or someone holds the other in a lock. You find that very interesting.

The sparring ends when Danny makes a grappling move that Steve cannot counter, so he has to tap out.

After the sparring, Steve sits back with you and his kids while Danny goes over to Sensei Marcus. Steve asks your opinion about Jiu-Jitsu, whether you're still interested to learn it.

"Very much, yeah. The first thing I will do once I'm back in Chicago is to find a Dojo," You excitedly tell Steve.

"Well, lucky for you, Sensei Marcus here knows a lot of Jiu-Jitsu instructors," All of a sudden, Danny joins your conversation. Sensei Marcus stands beside him.

"Sure, if you want to keep learning Jiu-Jitsu, I will give you some references of my fellows in Chicago," Marcus informs you.

"That would be awesome!"

Marcus shakes your hand, "Good luck!" and moves to shake hands with the rest of the Williams-McGarrett family. "Thanks for visiting our dojo. Please come again whenever you're in LA,"

They all look tired, but their smiles beam as bright as Hawaiian sunshine.

◢◤

Two weeks later, in Chicago,

You see your boyfriend's truck parked in front of your house as you walk home from the bus stop. You walk much slower than you used to. Your body is hurting all over the place, but you feel elated.

The day after you came home from Los Angeles, Jay was caught in a hard case. He had to fly out to New York and liaised with NYPD SVU to solve it.

You missed him a lot, for sure. Jay called you whenever he could for these past two weeks. Texted you every day too. But you have not got the chance to tell Jay about your new interest in Jiu-Jitsu.

After your last trip to LA, you promptly checked out the Dojo that Sensei Marcus referred to you. You were thrilled to find out that it's only fifteen minutes bus ride from your house.

You met with one of the instructors there and asked for a private class. Because that's what Danny advised you to do. "After you have a better understanding of the lessons, then I want you to go train with other people at the dojo. But for the first five or six months, you might've been better with one-on-one lessons,"

The instructor, Professor Louisa, is delighted to provide. You work on a schedule three to four times a week. The professor initially suggested only two meets in a week. But considering your occasional trip abroad for work, you prefer to do more lessons when you're in town.

This is the third week you've been learning jiu-jitsu in Chicago. Scraps and bruises are inevitable. Jay would freak out if he saw them before you could explain to him.

Jay's flight back from New York landed about two hours ago. He must've been coming directly to your place from the O'Hare. The house smells amazing when you enter the room. Following your nose leads you to the kitchen. You find your boyfriend pulling out what seems to be garlic bread from the oven, "Hey, babe. You're back!"

"Hey, you! Perfect timing!" Jay secures the tray aside before stepping closer to you. He puts one hand on your waist, the other one on your back. Moving even closer to kiss you.

His passion makes you forget your bruises for a moment. When Jay pushes you playfully, your shoulder hits the nearest wall. You instantly cry out in pain. "Argh!"

"What's wrong?" Jay stops everything he's doing to you right away.

"Nothing, I just got some bruises," You rub the pain from your shoulder.

"How come?" Jay begins to take off your t-shirt to check on the bruises, but you move away from his grasp.

"Hold on. Let me take a shower. I must've been rank from sweat. Then I'll tell you everything," You kiss Jay one more time before going to the bedroom.

As you eat the pasta primavera that Jay made, you ask him about his case in New York, "How was it?"

"It's done. We did what we have to do,"

Not interested in talking about his case, Jay interrogates you instead, "So, where did you get the bruise? I swear, I only left the city for two weeks, and you're already in trouble," Jay shakes his head.

"I'm not! I just joined this gym. Dojo, I meant. I'm taking Jiu-Jitsu lessons!" You cheerfully tell Jay.

"You what?" Jay pauses from drinking his wine.

So you told Jay the whole story. About how someone tried to snatch your phone when you're in LA. How you met the Williams-McGarrett family from Hawaii. How they got you into jiu-jitsu.

"It's so fun, Jay. Yeah, sure, I got bruises and scraps. But whenever I got stuck with my work, I go have a practice at the dojo, and then I come home feeling energized," You confess to your boyfriend.

"Really?" Jay looks at you, disbelieving.

"Uhuh," You nod as you swallow your spaghetti. "You know what, you should come and see the dojo. It might interest you too,"

"I know about martial arts, babe. I taught you how to punch, remember?" Jay reminds you.

"Yes, you did," You say in giggles, "Professor Louisa said she won't teach me how to punch,"

"Of course, Jiu-jitsu has a different approach than other martial art, say karate. Or boxing," Jay puts down his fork on the empty plate. "You sure you enjoy it?"

You hold Jay's hand and look into his eyes, "I am. This is something I want to do seriously, Jay. I admit part of it comes from you and your job. Like you always said, I need to be able to defend myself. Because you think I could get drag into your case one day,"

Jay puts his other hand on top of yours, looking somehow regretful, "Babe..."

"No, no. But I also do this for myself. Even though my body hurts, I feel great about myself. I feel more confident. It's really inspiring,"

Jay brings your hand to his lips, "Okay then, as long as you're happy with it. But I'm still going to take you to the gun range,"

You roll your eyes in response, "Of course, you will,"

◢◤

A week later, Jay walks up to The Dojo on the second floor. Someone greets him at the entrance, "Hey, man. Can I help you?"

"I suppose to pick up my girlfriend. She is training with..." Jay tries to remember the instructor's name. "Louisa?"

"Ah, yes, Professor Louisa. You must be y/n's boyfriend. I'm Professor Andy, the head of this dojo," The man offers his hand.

"Jay Halstead," Jay shakes Andy's hand.

"I think she will finish in ten minutes. You wanna see her practice?"

"Sure. If it would not be disturbing?" Jay hesitates.

"Not at all. Y/n is the only one in there right now," Andy directs Jay inside the dojo. He asks Jay to remove his shoes before stepping into the room.

Jay watches his girlfriend silently. He winces a couple times when you fall down. But he is amazed to see you immediately stand up again.

"She's resilient, your woman is,"

Jay chuckles at Andy's remark, "Yes, she is,"

Shortly after you bow to your instructor, you see Jay standing on the side with Professor Andy.

You walk towards them with a smile, "I see you met my boyfriend, Prof,"

"I did, yeah," Andy nods. "I don't think Jay would be interested in jiu-jitsu, though," He comments.

"Correction, I'm not interested to see you got thrown down repeatedly," Jay points out.

"Hey!" You hit Jay's arms as both Professors laugh at you.

"But that's how we are supposed to learn. If you don't know how to fall, you won't get back up again," Louisa says serenely.

Andy hums his agreement before ushering you out. "Alright, get out of here, you lovebird,"

When you're in the locker room, changing your Gi, Jay approaches Andy again. But before Jay could say anything, Andy hands a leaflet to him.

"Y/N told me you're a police officer. You might be interested in these classes,"

Jay takes it with a laugh, "Thanks, man. I'll check it out," He puts the leaflet on his jacket pocket and pulls out his card.

"If anything happens when Y/N is here. Or if you need anything I can help with, please give me a call," Jay sounds solemn.

Andy takes the card, "Don't worry, man. We take good care of our students here,"

"I know," Jay nods.

Soon you come out with a gym bag on your shoulder. "See you next week, Prof!"

Andy waves to the couple, "Bye, y/n. See you again, Jay!"

◢◤

Two years later,

You step out of the record store in Pilsen empty-handed, failing to find the vinyl you're looking for. You start walking west to the bus stop when you hear a commotion ahead.

You see a guy pushing people out of his way. He keeps looking behind his back like he's running from something.

"Police! Get out of the way!" You hear other voices shouting.

So this guy seems to be running from the police, you thought to yourself.

The man tries to shove you aside, but your reflex is much better. Your hands instantly grab the front of his shirt. When he tries to push you away, your right foot finds his inner left calf and sweeps him down.

When he tries to move away from your grasp, you lean down and grip his right wrist tightly with your right hand. You put your right elbow beside his right ear while your left elbow is placed underneath his elbow. Your left-hand moves to hold your right wrist from below his right hand. His arm is essentially locked when your left bicep snugs against his right tricep. You raise your elbow slightly from the surface. The more he wiggles his way out, the higher you raise his elbow from the surface, the more painful the lock is.

You hear an impressed whistle from above. When you look up, you find Jay and Hailey standing in front of you. Jay gets a huge grin on his face while Hailey is sporting a shocked look.

"Nice takedown, babe," Jay compliments you.

"Thanks. You might wanna take over from here, though," You say to your boyfriend as you hear few more steps rushing towards you.

You loosen the lock after you are sure Jay gets his hand on the perp. He grabs the suspect up from the floor and pushes him towards the wall.

You find a hand extends in front of your face, offering to help you stand up. You look up to see it was Hailey. You take her hand with a soft thanks.

Once you're back on your feet, you look around to see the other members of the Intelligence Unit staring at you. Adam, Kim, and Kevin are mirroring Hailey's initial look of surprise. Jay's boss, Hank Voight, looks impassive as always. But you catch an amused twitch at one corner of his lips.

"Man, at least give me time to feel my hand again! That bitch could break my arm, you know!" you hear the perp complaining when Jay prepares to cuff him.

Without saying anything in response, Jay folds the perp's wrist inside. The perp yells even louder because of the wristlock.

Kevin moves to take the man away from Jay before any further damage could happen. He ushers the perp right away to a nearby cop car.

Jay turns to check on his girlfriend, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." You nod back at him.

"I didn't know you could do that, Y/N," Hailey tells you. "You never tell me that your girlfriend practiced any martial arts," She continues to slap Jay's shoulder.

You answer with a sheepish smile, "It's kinda new,"

"Blue Belt in Jiu-Jitsu is not "kinda new" babe," Jay elbows you playfully.

The team boss pats your shoulder once before walking back to his car, "Good job, Y/LN,"

Kim, who's partnered up with Voight today, quickly follows. But not before inviting you for drinks, "You have to tell me all about this over drinks!"

"See? Even Voight agrees. We'll make a cop-out of you soon, Y/N," Adam offers his fistbump to you.

You meet his with your fistbump but shake your head, laughing, "Not in a million years, Ruzek,"

He only replies with his laugh and walks towards Kevin and the perp.

Jay puts his arm around your shoulders with a huge smile, "C'mon, Kev and Ruz can take care of the perp for a while. Hailey and I will drop you home."

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rachellovesharry · 4 years

Text

Okay. So I bet you're searching for some fics right now because you're bored, then you're at the right place. So this is a list of my favorite Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers fics. I've read so many fics but I'm going to list the fics which I remember and I recently read. You're probably wondering why I'm doing this it's because FIC WRITERS DON'T GET THE RECOGNITION THEY DESERVE. YES YOU HEARD ME. They spend so much of their time on this blog to give us such good stories/ contents, they have their personal life but still they write for us. And it is our time to be grateful for them so please if you ever read a fic, please like, reblog and comment. I've been on tumblr for less then a year and I've seen so many fic writers leave this blog. It genuinely hurts me because their loosing their inspiration because not many people recognize their talents. SO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LIKE, REBLOG AND COMMENT ON THE FICS YOU READ AND LOVE. I know many of you read and don't reblog but please do cause as fan-fic readers it's the least we can do. So on this though I'm going to be listing the fics I've read. I'll see if this gets good response then I'll maybe do more. I'm in no way doing this for myself, it's for all the fic writers to tell them how grateful I am. So if you're reading this please like or reblog this so I'll know people are seeing this. Okay so I've spoken enough let's go:

🅾 This is in a random order🅾

@all1e23 So Allie's fics are the first bucky x reader fics I've ever read on tumblr. Her writing is really good and I would recommend you to read all of her fics. The swallows, astrophile, between the stars are all my favorites. But my most favorite will be heart and soul that's just *NO WORDS*.You can literally binge her entire masterlist.

@invisibleanonymousmonsters I LOVE LOVE LOVE heart of steel. It was so good I had to call my cousin up and tell her this story. Like I'm not going to spoil it for y'all it's just *chef's kiss*. It's a knight!bucky x princess!reader. I'm telling you y'all won't be disappointed. And all of her other fics are good too. Y'all can check out her masterlist, it's definitely my favorite.

@simsadventures JUST READ PANOPTICON. it's an alpha! Steve Rogers x reader. It's sooooo good and she also writes Bucky x reader. She also wrote an alpha!bucky is I'm not wrong. Check out her masterlist too guys.

@hispeculiartreasure I've read only one fic of her's it's called All we've got is time. My god!! I loved that fic so much. It's a 40s Bucky fic. I was so addicted to it. I think it's one of the first 40s au I've read. Y'all should read it.

@allandoflimbo Take it back -pls read this. Don't even get me started. I'm never one to read cheating fics, but let me tell you it's not what I expected TBH. It's a Bucky x reader. That's all I'm going to tell you. I'm already getting chills talking about this fic. She's also writing on wattpad and ao3. She's got another new fic written it's called Ashens( I think). But I'm telling y'all will not regret it.

@speechlessxx I'm obsessed with her fics. I remember a long time back I read cherry chapstick, it's a Chris evans x reader. It was so good and I didn't know who wrote it. it was super good. And then her fics Bring me light. Wowowwo. It's a king! Steve Rogers fic. God I use to literally wait for her to post it. She also has a new fic. You can check out her masterlist, I tell you.

@kayteewritessteve JUST CHECK OUT HER ENTIRE MASTERLIST OKAY. THERE'S NOTHING MUCH TO SAY. IF I START TALKING ABOUT HER FICS I WON'T STOP. Anyways I still will. She mostly writes only Steve Rogers fics. I love literally every story she writes. It's just wowowoow. She has Mob! Steve, King! Steve, Cop! Steve. Just read it okay. No excuses

@whistlingwillows I've just read two of her fics but let me tell you, I was not able to come out of it. I myself have to check her masterlist cause she has SO MANY GOOD FICS. Buried in you're bones and foxglove just made me cry. Like seriously they're that good.

@jaamesbbarnes I love Disney au's so much and god y'all have to read Sirens song. It was so simple yet beautiful. It's a CEO! Bucky fic. And lets just say it was so freaking cute.

@redgillan READ HER ENTIRE MASTERLIST. Like she has so many good fics I get confused sometimes. Right now I'm obsessed with Under pastel skies. It's a Bucky Barnes fic. And it's a sugar daddy au. And it's not what you think 😳😏it's so freaking romantic. Just read it. And check her masterlist too. If I'm not wrong she has so many Steve Rogers fic too.

@papi-chulo-bucky AHAHAHA. I LOVE HERR FICS like TBH it's amazing. That's it. And I love her fic called Haunting ME. It's one of my favorites coz its a POC! reader fic. Like wowowowo. And the plot is so good. Check her out guys.

@floatingpetals Read the Shifter series. It's so cute and the reader is clingy(like me). And I just love it when the readers animal self interacts with Bucky. It's such a good series honestly give it a read.

@brooklyn-boy one word MASTERLIST. Like you can find both Steve and Bucky fics. I think there also a stucky one. I love all of they're stories and you guys it's so good. My favorite one will be a Sea of Strangers

@romanticromanogers Eternal fever is such a good fic. It's a biker gang! Bucky and the reader works as a dancer in a bar. It's so good I can't wait for the next chapter. Please give this fic a try you'll live it I'm sure.

@xetoilerouge LIFE AS WE KNOW IT. yes you read it right it's based on the movie with the same title but it's so much different and even more cuter. It's a Bucky fic. Y'all will not regret it.

@wkemeup I STOPPED THINKING FOR A MINUTE CAUSE I HAD FLASH BACKS OF HER FICS. Like her fics have you going in a rollercoaster and it's like you cannot even expect the plot twist. And her plot is good and her writing is amazing. By any other name and guiding light are my all time favorites. Both had me wandering around my house at night.

@cxptain Last night only I finished reading one of her fics. And honestly it's really good I can't wait to read the rest of her fics in her masterlist. She wrote a mob! Steve fic and god it's freaking cute. And I have to say this it has the ultimate Sam, Bucky and Peter interaction it's so funny. Honestly I died laughing. AND SHE ALSO HAS A DESI FIC!!??! CAN I SEE MY DESI READERS!!! it's a Bucky x desi reader and honestly I read the prolonge and I was so excited. Y'all can definitely read her fics too.

@justreadingfics WAIT I HAVE TO TAKE A MINUTE. *inhales and exhales* OK just read it's a deal. It's a Bucky fic and it's still wip. And not to mention it's soooo HOTTT. And if you ever want to cry your freaking heart and brains out Read looking for a heart beat honestly I cried like a freaking baby and let me tell you I wasn't looking cute. But just I regretted not reading it early. PLSSSS FREAKING READ IT YALL ARE MISSING OUT SO MUCH.

@wintersoldierissucharide LAST BUT NOT THE LEAST. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY CAUSE THERES NOTHING I CAN SAY OTHER THAN FREAKING READ HER STORIES . THE ANGSTTT. I CAN'T EVEN. Her fic The Silence has me silent. And the past always catches up. If you haven't read it..... *pikachu face* just go read it.

🅾 This is not the only fics I've read. I've read so many fics but these are the only fics I remember and I've be reading recently. If this gets a good response I'll maybe do another part🅾

So I'm doing this so that fic writers get all the recognition and love they deserve. I'm not doing this for my own selfish reasons. I'm doing this as a way to thank all the fanfic writers. And Pls DO NOT BE A SILENT READER. LIKE. REBLOG. COMMENT. DO YOU'RE PART. AND ALSO BLACK LIVES MATTER. BLACK LIVES ARE LOVED. BLACK LIVES ARE CHERISHED.

And if you're reading this Pls reblog this too so i will know someone is seeing and reading this. And to ALL THE FANFIC WRITER YOU GUYS ARE DOING AN AMAZING JOB. I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOU. THANK YOU ALL FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART. YOU GUYS ARE SO TALENTED AND YOU GUYS HAVE MADE TUMBLR A SAFE PLACE FOR ME.

And how can I forget @searchingforbucky She is one of the reasons I got to find so many amazing fanfics. Pls follow her you will not regret it. Her blog is amazing and you'll find so many new fics.

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kalimagik · 4 years

Text

Not A Movie...Right?

Harry Potter x Reader

Word Count: ~7,400

Warnings: Some cursing, mentions of sex, but that’s the only time the word is used....

A/N: Soooo, here’s a fic I wrote that isn’t based on a song! (Look at me trying to expand!) It’s got angst, tears, strong women standing by each other, oblivious Harry, and then fluff at the end cuz I love me a good happy ending... If you enjoy it, like, reblog, comment, or follow! You can also send me a message if there is something you’d like to see me post! still new on here, so I’m open to pretty much everything! Happy reading <3<3

*not my GIF - credit to owner

The corridors were empty, the classrooms were quiet, and the students were busying themselves outside, well most of the students. Y/N dragged her feet down the hallways, avoiding the windows, she didn’t want to be seen by the other students. Why be lost in conversation when she was lost in the thoughts that had been consuming her brain?

Had she made a mistake? Was it stupid to get everything off of her chest? It had been four years after all, right? It was okay to feel these things. She’d hid them for as long as possible, she tried to at least. Maybe she shouldn’t have told him, but maybe he shouldn’t have kissed her after the quidditch match. Didn’t he know that would completely scramble her brain? He knew her! At least, she thought he knew her.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” Hermione called from a little bit ahead.

Y/N looked up for her eyes to meet her best friends’ right away. The brunette knew something was wrong, she’d barely seen Y/N in the last week.

“We’ve been outside all day. It’s so nice and you told Ron that you were going to meet us out there. I didn’t even see you this morning. What’s going on?” she prodded, knowing that there was something more happening with her friend.

Y/N couldn’t look at her. She knew that tears would start rolling down her face the moment she did. Yes, Y/N normally told Hermione everything, but she hadn’t told her about this yet and she’d been dealing with it all herself. So, maybe she should tell her?

“Y/N/N…Please talk to me!” Hermione’s voice begged. Y/N finally looked up to see the concern in her friend’s face. “Oh common!” Hermione rushed to Y/N and pulled her hand until they were at the Gryffindor Common Room and climbing the stairs to their shared dorm room. Of course it was empty, everyone was enjoying one of the few nice days that Hogwarts saw.

Once in the comfort of her own room, Y/N started to sob. How did she start to explain what had happened? Before she had to, Hermione spoke up.

“Y/N/N. I know this has something to do with Harry. You never act like this. You’ve been up early for breakfast every morning and leave by the time I get down there with the boys. Sometimes Ron gets there early enough to see you, but then you leave before he can have a full conversation. You don’t speak during lessons and you’ve been sitting in different seats. Y/N/N, you sat with the SLYTHERINS the other day! You’re obviously avoiding him!”

Y/N just looked down at her hands that were folded in her lap.

“What happened? Please? You normally tell me this stuff. We’ve talked about all of your other boys before. I know that you like him. You may have not told me, but I am observant. I did notice. Just talk to me!”

Taking a deep breath before she started talking, Y/N began the story.

“It has been going on all year, ‘Mione. Remember when we first got back to school and we had that huge party after quidditch tryouts? Well, Harry and I just went and got some air. We were talking like we always do. You guys became my best friends in our second year, so it was easy. And it was probably the fire whiskey, but Harry started talking about how great I was. He was all of course I’ve had a crush on you before! You’re exactly my type and fun and cute. And I just sat there listening and thinking. And it was just nice to hear, but then I realized something. I could have always fallen for Harry so easily, but I always kept myself from doing it. I didn’t want to because I knew it would be too big for me. But, he, he opened the gates. It’s his fault, ‘Mione!” Y/N could feel her voice raising as she thought of how stupid she had been.

Hermione looked at the 6th year girl, whose eyes were puffy and red, whose lips quivered as she thought about everything. Hermione didn’t want to push her anymore, but she knew that Y/N needed to get it all out. She’d been holding it in for too long and it was affecting how she was in school and with her friends and as a person.

After giving Y/N a few moments of silence, Hermione spoke up. “So, what happened then?”

“Well, I started letting myself fall. I was such a git! And I wanted to spend so much time with him and be around him. I mean, I always was, but it just felt different now. I wanted to be close to him and touch him and it just felt different. And he was different too! He was attentive and seeking me out and yeah…” Y/N paused as she thought. Thinking about what happened.

“‘Mione,” Y/N whispered, “we snogged. A lot. And it went further than that. And – and I thought we were on the same page, but then he said he just wanted to stay friends because he didn’t want to ruin what we had…”

“HE DID WHAT?!” Hermione howled. Y/N could see the rage building up on her face. She knew maybe she shouldn’t have said that.

“ ‘Mione, please don’t get mad. Don’t yell. Don’t get mad at him. It’s already happened. I made the same decision he did. Plus, I told him it was okay. I told him I was fine, so I messed up. I didn’t check and make sure we were on the same page…” Y/N tried to explain.

“This is not your fault! Why is he so daft! Why would he do that! He did that AND THEN said he didn’t want to mess up the dynamic?”

“Well yeah, but he’s a boy, it's fine. Seriously.”

“Fine. I won’t yell at him yet. When did this all happen?”

Y/N bit her lip, thinking. Everything seemed to always blend together. “Two months ago, maybe…”

“Y/N! It’s April now…What happened next?” Hermione asked, knowing the story wasn’t over.

“Well, you know the quidditch match two weeks ago? When they beat Hufflepuff?” Y/N asked, wiping her eyes.

“yeah….”

“Well, I thought I had come to terms with everything by then. I went on that date to Hogsmeade and even though Zacharias Smith was an ass after, it was still nice when we went.”

“Okay? I knew that. He was an ass…”

“Yeah, exactly. Well, then the match came and they won and I didn’t get to see Harry because the people were just crowding and I couldn’t get to him. So, I waited for everyone to come out of the changing tents so I could congratulate our friends.. Well, Harry was the last one to come out and he was so excited that he kissed me. And I pretended I was fine because I couldn’t go through the ‘we’re just friends’ talk again. But, I couldn’t stop thinking about it after that. All the feelings that I gated off flooded right back in because it just felt right! He held me in a way that no one ever has and his lips just felt right. I couldn’t stop it!” Y/N was gasping, reliving what she had been avoiding.

“But, you’ve only been acting strange for a week. What changed between then and now?” Hermione asked. She’d been nodding along since Y/N started. She was thinking a lot and felt pretty angry, but she was keeping her anger at Harry hidden for Y/N’s sake.

“Well, I became overwhelmed. It’s all I could think about. It didn’t feel fair because I didn’t get to say what I really felt. I just took everything in. So, I worked up a little bit of courage and I told him how I felt last week. I said everything. I wrote it down and I just told him! But, but, but he didn’t say anything back. And when I saw him the next day, he just acted normal and as if nothing happened and I couldn’t do that! I couldn’t, ‘Mione…” Y/N felt the tears begin to swell up along the edges of eyes.

“Wow…he hasn’t said anything?”

Y/N shook her head.

“And you’ve just been dealing with it and acting as normal as possible?”

Y/N nodded.

“But, you’ve still been avoiding him and he hasn’t said anything.”

“I don’t think that he noticed,” Y/N said. “Of course, I haven’t seen him to know whether or not he has.”

Hermione thought for a second. She knew that Harry hadn’t said anything to her about Y/N not being around, so either it wasn’t bothering him or he didn’t notice. Ron was always slightly oblivious, so he didn’t completely understand what was going on, but he knew Y/N hadn’t been around as much. Hermione could tell Y/N this, but she didn’t want to be the one to break her friend’s heart, no matter how honest she wanted to be with her. She couldn’t do it.

“Do you want me to ask him what he’s thinking?” Hermione asked timidly.

“NO!” Y/N spoke louder than she had in a while. “I don’t want him to know I told you. ‘Mione, I’ve been thinking a lot. Harry not saying anything to me is an answer. He doesn’t want me… I can’t keep walking around here thinking that he’s just going to run up to me and tell me that he loves me. That only happens in the movies and this isn’t a movie. I need to just move on, but I needed a little bit of time before that. I needed to come to that decision myself.” Y/N tried to explain, with pleading in her eyes.

“I get that, but it isn’t fair to you…You deserve to be so happy!” Hermione argued.

“But, it doesn’t look like I’m going to get that from him…”

Hermione couldn’t hear it. This whole situation was ridiculous! Harry couldn’t just not say anything. If she had been in that situation, she wouldn’t have taken it! But what could she do? Y/N didn’t want her to get involved.

Y/N spoke up, breaking Hermione from her internal thought process. “I told you ‘Mione, I just need to give myself some time to move on and I can’t do that when I’m seeing him every day.”

“That makes sense, but I miss you! Can you please just be around more. I can stay away from him. Plus, we have to start studying for exams soon anyways. I just want to spend time with you!”

“I’m sorry you got caught up in all of this. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’m always going to worry about you!” Hermione assured her friend, fighting the internal struggle about what to do. She could do what Y/N asked and just leave it be, but that didn’t feel right. Boys this year were just messing everything up.

“I know. But we only have like two months of school anyways. It’ll be fine.” Y/N waved off whatever she was feeling, wiping away the few stray tears.

Hermione nodded, knowing there was nothing else she could do in that moment. So, she spent the rest of the day with Y/N. She convinced her to walk around and go out to the courtyard for a bit. Everyone else was on the grounds, so it was clear. They did run into a few Hufflepuff girls, but it was fine interacting with them.

Being a Sunday evening, the girls knew that they had a busy week, so they headed to the Common Room after a short dinner. A Harry free dinner of course.

“You go up, I need to gather some books from the Common Room,” Hermione said as Y/N went to the steps for the dormitory.

“Okay!” Y/N waved as she went up to their room.

Hermione looked around. She knew it wouldn’t be long before the boys got back from dinner. Hermione noticed on her way out that Ron and Harry ate with the other boys in their dorm tonight. She waved, but only Ron saw her. Y/N was walking out of the Great Hall so quickly that she didn’t have time to stop and say hi.

She dawdled picking up what she could, taking her time. She’d just tell Y/N that she realized she had to finish an essay if they took much longer. But, as if on cue, the portrait door swung open and in walked 5 boys. Seamus, Neville, and Dean stumbled up the dormitory stairs while Harry and Ron walked towards where Hermione was standing over her books.

“Where have you been?” Harry asked casually.

Hermione felt the fire inside of her flare, but she responded as calmly as possible. “I’ve been with Y/N for most of the afternoon and evening.”

“Blimey! So that’s where you went! We sat by the lake forever and figured you just went to do an assignment,” Ron shrugged as he turned.

“No, I went to find our other best friend. I haven’t seen her nearly at all this week and Ron said she was coming to the lake, but when she didn’t, I went to find her unlike you two blathering gits!” Hermione raised her voice.

Ron and Harry looked at her confused. “What are you talking about, ‘Mione?” Ron questioned.

“Have you two noticed nothing?! She’s never at breakfast with us, she skips meals, she hasn’t sat with us in lessons all week! We haven’t had our best friend! Ron, you’ve been so caught up with your break up and you, Harry, with that stupid book! We’re losing her!”

Now, the boys looked concerned. Hermione did raise her voice at them quite often, but something about this was different.

“What is wrong with you, Hermione?” Harry spoked up.

“You of all people should know!” Hermione spat before picking up her books and heading towards the stairs.

Ron looked at Harry with so much confusion in his eyes. “What’s she talking about?” he asked.

Harry stood there for a moment before he called after Hermione. “Wait! Come back here!”

Hermione stopped at the bottom of the stairs, taking in a deep breath before turning around. “What?” she responded sternly.

“Can you just tell us why you’re so angry?” Harry asked, trying to get a little more information out of her.

“It’s not my place,” Hermione barked. “Besides, it could be more efficient for me to just not say anything at all. Then I’ll just act like everything is normal!” With that small jab, she stomped up the stairs to her bedroom. She promised Y/N she wouldn’t say anything and she didn’t really. Not out right.

Hearing the door slam, Ron turned to Harry aghast. “What was she blithering on about? Bloody hell!” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“Fuck!” Harry cursed, when it dawned on him why she was so angry.

“I mean, I know Y/N’s been out of sorts this week, but she gets like that sometimes. I figured it was just that thing that happens to girls every month.” Ron rambled on, not hearing Harry. “Sure, she seemed a little more rushed and like she just wanted to be alone. I didn’t think it had anything to do with us.”

“It didn’t have anything to do with us, Ron. It had everything to do with me,” Harry flopped onto the couch as he slapped his hand over his face.

“What are you talking about?” Ron asked stupidly.

“I was an idiot! How couldn’t I have noticed that she was avoiding me?”

“What?” Ron asked again.

“Whenever you were at breakfast early this week, did you see Y/N?”

“Yes? But..”

“And did she always leave right before Hermione and I got there?” Harry cut him off.

Ron sat on a chair near Harry, thinking about the past week for a moment. “Now that you mention it, I guess she did. I thought she just had assignments to get ahead on. You know how her and Hermione can be…What are you thinking about, Harry? Come off it!”

“I’m an idiot!” Harry stood up quickly and rushed towards the stairs.

“Harry, you know that’s not going to work…” Ron called as he heard the stairs turn into the slide to keep the boys out of the girls’ dormitory.

“But, I’ve got to get up there! I’ve messed up Ron!”

“You could send her a note. It's only 7:15. I bet you could make it up to the owlery before curfew,” Ron suggested, getting comfortable.

“Ron! That’s brilliant!”

Before Ron could continue, Harry was out of the portrait hole again.

“OR!” Ron tried to call after him, “or you could wait until one of the other girls comes back and give them a note for Y/N…” Ron finished. “What the hell is going on with everyone?” Ron wondered as he placed his hands behind his head and relaxed in front of the fireplace.

______________________________________________________________________________

“What took you so long, ‘Mione?” Y/N asked when she came out of the bathroom to see Hermione just putting her books down.

“The boys came in while I was gathering my things,” Hermione responded truthfully, not knowing how her friend would respond.

“Oh…” Y/N faded off. “Did they have a good time at dinner?” Y/N asked, trying to be as normal as possible.

“Yeah, they did. We didn’t say much about dinner though.”

“Oh? What did you all talk about?” Y/N questioned as she moved around the room, pulling on her pajamas and hanging up her towel.

“Well, they asked where I went and then I kind of got angry with them…” Hermione tried to look innocent.

“Mione?” Y/N was now getting worried. “Why would you get angry?”

“I just, they asked where I went and I said to find you and then I got mad that they hadn’t noticed how you had been acting all week and…and _ I –” Hermione cut herself off to look up at Y/N just in time to see a horrified face. “Don’t worry! I didn’t say anything about what you told me! I can hold my tongue at least that much. But, I may have made a slight comment just to get him thinking…”

“YOU DID WHAT?” Y/N yelled, dropping everything in her hands.

“I don’t know if he got it. Ron was blabbering like an idiot when I came up the stairs. I just think that he owes you something! You are friends, at least! Maybe he just didn’t realize how he felt about you…” Hermione tried to explain.

“Mione! Now he knows that I’ve been sulking over him all week! He may be daft, but he’s not THAT daft!”

“But, you deserve to get something!” Hermione yelled out.

Luckily, it was early enough that the other girls weren’t back to the room just yet, so Y/N had a moment to compose herself. She really despised whenever Lavender tried to act like her best friend and comfort her. It was really the worst and just awkward. That all started when Ron and Lavender dated and Y/N wound up around her more often than she would have liked. Whenever she was with Harry and Ron and Lavender always popped up to be with Ron. It was the worst.

“What am I going to do now? I was so close to moving on, Hermione! Common!”

“I’m sorry! I’m really sorry, Y/N/N! But, someone needed to do something. He needs to talk back so that you can actually get some closure!”

“What did I tell you earlier! This isn’t a fucking movie! Merlin! I just wanted to move on before being around him all the time again, okay? Now I’m going to need to keep doing what I’ve been doing for a week!” Y/N ranted as she paced back and forth across the floor.

Hermione sat there silently, realizing how what she did may have been stupid, but she was going to continue to defend her actions. “Y/N/N, I’m going to tell you this again. He needs to say something. You can’t just let him off the hook. He’s being an idiot! And –”

Hermione was cut off by a light tapping at the window. The two girls turned to see a white snow owl.

“Hedwig?” Y/N was startled as Hermione went to open the window to let the owl in.

“She has a note tied to her leg…” Hermione noticed. “It’s for you.”

“He wrote me a note?” Y/N questioned.

“Maybe he realized that he was being an idiot. What’s it say?” Hermione asked as she handed Y/N the note and sat down next to her.

Hedwig flew over and hooted happily as Y/N unconsciously petted her, holding open the letter to look at Harry’s tiny, scribbled handwriting.

“What’s it say?”

“Give me a second! I need to decipher his writing,” Y/N trembled.

Y/N looked down at the note. It wasn’t long, it was straight forward.

“He wants to talk to me…” Y/N sat the note down and stood up suddenly, pacing around again. Hermione picked up the note and quickly scanned it.

“Y/N/N, he’s pretty much pleading for you to come downstairs right now. I bet he just ran all the way to the owlery to send this and get back in time.”

Y/N stood there thinking, not sure what to do, but before she could speak anymore, the dorm door flew open.

“Why was Harry so out of breath?” Parvati wondered out loud as her and Lavender discarded their things onto their beds. The two were giggling.

“What’s going on up here?” Lavender asked, trying to read the room.

“Nothing!” Y/N blurted quickly, knowing that Lavender wouldn’t ask Hermione for any details. The two hadn’t spoken in weeks. Before she knew what she was doing, she swept to the still open door. She didn’t know why she was going so quickly, but she forced herself to slow down when she was about halfway down the steps. She couldn’t seem too desperate. She had “moved on,” remember.

As she went to take the last turn, she practically stopped. She could hear the soft voices of the boys that she knew so well.

“Do you think Hedwig got her attention?”

“Mate, you haven’t even told me what’s going on,” Ron pointed out.

Y/N inched a little further down, trying to hear better.

“I’ll tell you once I know what’s going on!” Harry practically exploded. He’d gotten better at that from last year, but his temper still spouted from time to time.

Y/N felt her heart constrict. Was that good or bad? She moved forward just a little bit more as Harry had lowered his voice again. But, she must’ve gone a little too far and her foot slipped off the edge of the step. She felt her torso follow quickly after, tumbling down the last stairs and onto the Common Room floor.

“uhhh, hey guys…” Y/N felt her cheeks heat up. Thinking quickly, she added, “I just left something down here…” Maybe she couldn’t do this. She’d already poured her heart out over a week earlier. She couldn’t go through the pain again.

When she finally stood up, she realized that her fall must’ve caused both boys to jump out of their seats.

“What are you guys doing?” she tried to ask as normally as possible.

“Ummmmmm…well, look at the time! I’m going to go to bed!” Ron spit out quickly, lifting his arms and pretending to yawn. “Goodnight!”

Y/N watched helplessly as the only buffer in the room left. Now what was she going to do?

“Y/N?” Harry spoke up, Y/N still looking at the stairs Ron had just ascended.

“Uhhhh, hi? I’ll just grab that thing that I forgot and get out of your way.” Y/N looked around, trying to find something in the Common Room that she could claim as hers.

“I can help you look. What did you forget?”

Shit! Y/N thought to herself. Why was he so helpful?

“I didn’t forget anything, Harry.” Y/N sighed. “I – I got your note. Hedwig popped in upstairs…”

“Oh? You did? Good. That’s good because I wanted to talk to you about the other weekend and this week.”

“You really don’t have to, Harry. I know Hermione put you up to this. It’s fine. I told you that last week. There’s nothing to talk –”

“Y/N, will you just let me say something?” Harry interrupted. Y/N closed her mouth and nodded.

“Hermione didn’t put me up to this. I should have realized that something was wrong all week. I’m just blind and an idiot and I’ve been busy and…” Harry looked up to see Y/N looking at the ground. “That’s beside the point and not an excuse. I should have said something last week when you opened up to me.”

Y/N lifted her eyes from the floor for a moment, waiting to hear what else he had to say because as of that moment, she did not have any words that would fit in quite yet.

“I did the worst thing possible for that situation. I’m sorry, but I thought everything was normal between us, at least, I let myself think that.”

Y/N couldn’t handle the rambling anymore. “What do you want to tell me, Harry? I should really get back upstairs. I can’t go through this again. Stop dragging it out!” Well that was courage that she didn’t know she had.

“Right, I’m sorry. I guess what I want to say is that I really didn’t know what to say then. You caught me by surprise…” Y/N stared at him. She obviously already knew this and at this point, the situation was just getting irritating. Was he going to break her heart or not?

“In reality, I’m just scared. We’ve been friends for so long. How do you stop being friends and begin being more than that? I don’t know. No one I know seems to be figuring it out,” he added in, rolling his eyes. Y/N couldn’t help but giggle. She knew he was talking about the undiscussed feelings between Ron and Hermione.

“And you’re just amazing at everything you do. I’m not. You deserve so much more.”

Y/N’s heart panged at his words. Of course he was going to break her heart. Why did she bother getting her hopes up even slightly?

Harry must’ve noticed the sudden change in demeanor of the girl standing a few meters away from her. He knew he needed to change his tactic. “You care so much about everyone that you love. I don’t know if I could be enough for you.”

“HARRY!” Y/N just couldn’t take it anymore. “These all sound like excuses and ways for you to soften the blow. Just tell me that you don’t want to be with me so that I can go back to moving on like I was trying to do for the past week, for the past two months really!!” Her heart raced and she could hear the blood pounding in her ears. Couldn’t she just go back upstairs and flop on her welcoming bed?

Harry stood, speechless for a moment too long. Y/N huffed and turned to go upstairs. This really wasn’t a great way to start her week, so why prolong it? But, before she could reach the steps, a hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her back. Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was not going to cry.

“That’s not what I want though!” Harry blurted once Y/N turned to face him. “Y/N, I care about you so much. And I told you! I’m scared! These feelings scare me. What if something happens to you? It will all be my fault! I could never forgive myself.”

Y/N instinctively bit her lip, taking in his words. What could she say to that? She still wasn’t sure about any of this. Why had he waited a whole week?

“Say something?” he asked, eyes wide and looking at her hopefully.

“Oh? Say something? Maybe I should just nod and walk away. It seems to be really effective in avoiding situations,” Y/N scoffed. She could feel her walls going up. She knew she had avoided these feelings for so long and this was why.

“I was an idiot, Y/N! How was I supposed to tell you that? It would’ve just been easier to pretend that there was nothing between us. Then I wouldn’t have to think about what I’m feeling, let alone how I could potentially hurt you.”

Y/N could hear the sincerity in his voice.

“I don’t know what you want me to say now, Harry. You hurt me. You played with my heart all year. You had me thinking there was something when we were ‘just friends’ according to you. That hurts!” Y/N felt her voice waiver, but she was still set on not crying. She’d done more than enough of that.

Harry looked shocked. This was not what he was expecting obviously. Just a week ago, the girl of his dreams told him that she had feelings for him and he was too daft to say anything back. He screwed up, badly.

“My thoughts exactly,” Y/N spit as she began to pull away from him.

“No, wait. Don’t go.”

“What else is there to say?” Y/N asked, throwing her hands out to the side.

“Say, say that you still love me like I know you do. You may not have used those words, but I know you do. So that I can tell you that I love you and didn’t mean to play with your heart. It wasn’t fair of me because I didn’t know what to do with my own heart. And then I could pull you in and kiss your lips like I’ve wanted to again since two weeks ago, but didn’t.”

Y/N looked right into Harry’s green eyes. They looked as desperate as she had felt coming down the stairs earlier.

“Please, Y/N/N?” Harry asked again. “Please, because I love you…”

Y/N felt every time her chest rose and fell. She wanted this. She had wanted this for so long and now, here he was, fighting for her. It was literally like something she would see in one of those muggle movies, but why couldn’t she do it?

“Harry, I want to say it. I want to be in this moment with you. I haven’t wanted anyone like I’ve wanted you in so long, but you broke me. How can I trust that you aren’t going to want to be ‘just friends’ again next week?”

“You can trust me. I’m your best friend. You’ve always trusted me. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you went out with Smith. I did. And it made me so mad that it wasn’t me!” Harry continued to argue and explain. He realized that he should have said this all to you months ago.

Y/N sucked in a large amount of air, pulling her mouth muscles into her usual thinking face. What should she listen to? Her heart or her head. One telling her that this would be great and that they would be great together. The one telling her that this was what she had been wanting all year. Then there was the other side warning her that this could end in her hurt in just a few days. He didn’t seem so sure a week ago, why was he so sure now when he didn’t even realize how she was acting throughout the week?

Y/N looked down to where he was still holding her wrist. This wasn’t right. He should have found her days ago and said this. Or he should have said this when she poured herself out to him. He had every moment to do that!

Y/N shook her head. She had been right to tell Hermione earlier that this wasn’t a movie. It just wasn’t. He broke her trust and he broke her heart. But, she wasn’t going to do to him what he had done to her. She was going to tell him. She was going to break her own heart. And most importantly, she was going to give herself the chance and the opportunity to finally move on. Only she was going to be able to make that decision for herself.

“Harry, I just can’t do it. I dreamed about you coming to me, but it just doesn’t feel genuine. If this is how you actually felt, you would have said it last week. You aren’t that oblivious. You knew that was your chance if you wanted it too. I can’t just take you and pretend that you haven’t hurt me. Our chance is over. I’m sorry.”

At the end of her words, she looked up to meet Harry’s watering eyes. She’d seen so much joy in them in the past, but now all the pain in them was because of her. She couldn’t do it anymore. She needed to get out of the Common Room, but go where? All of her roommates were upstairs and it was well after curfew. Honestly, leaving and facing the possibility of detention sounded a lot better than a room full of girls.

“I– I have to go.” She pulled her wrist out of Harry’s grip and darted sideways towards the portrait hole. She flew out, not even stopping to see if the Fat Lady saw her, and climbed the stairs. She found herself in a 7th floor corridor before she even stopped to look around.

With eyes threatening to spill tears at any moment, Y/N fell to the floor. I just need somewhere to cry – she thought to herself as she began to sob. That’s when she felt the wall behind her start to shift. A small door appeared and without looking Y/N crawled inside. Once the door closed, she let her head rest against it and the tears fell in steady streams.

Rushing out of the Common Room so quickly, Y/N hadn’t seen Hermione and Ron emerge from their hiding places on the stairs. They found a stunned Harry, who was already beating himself up for how that went.

“Do I go after her?” he asked, tears starting to stream down his cheeks.

Hermione shook her head. “It’s after curfew and you have no idea where she went…”

“She’ll have to come back eventually mate,” Ron encouraged. “You could always just wait here.”

Harry nodded as he let Ron and Hermione direct him to the couch. Why had he been so impulsive? Why had he waited to begin with?

He sat there, staring as Ron and Hermione attempted to cheer him up. He knew that wouldn’t work. The only person who could make him happy ran from him. He blew it. He’d have to find a way to accept that, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to for a while. Not until she was at least his friend again because he couldn’t lose her all together.

______________________________________________________________________________

Y/N cried until she didn’t have any tears left. Once they ran dry, she only felt numb. She couldn’t go back to the Common Room now. Knowing how stubborn Harry is, he would still be sitting there, wanting to try all over again. Y/N couldn’t take another round of that tonight. I wish that this room had a bed – She thought to herself, finally looking around. Then, there in the corner, she saw a folded up cot. That would do. On one of the shelves, next to some tissues, she found a blanket and pillow. Okay. Now I just have to wake up early enough to sneak back in and get my books in the morning.

Feeling completely drained from the day, Y/N fell asleep quickly. She dreamed of nothing, which was a relief and in the morning, she decided that today was the day to start moving on. She would do it no matter how hard it was because this wasn’t a movie and she wasn’t going to wait around for someone who didn’t truly want her.

With that attitude in mind, Y/N quietly left the small room of requirement and tip toed back towards the Gryffindor Common Room. It was maybe 4:30 in the morning, so she hoped no one would be up for any reason. Giving the Fat Lady the password and receiving a slight scolding for waking her up so early, Y/N shut it silently behind her. Once in the Common Room, she could see that the coals of the fire were nearly burnt out, but there were three forms resting in the chairs in front of it – asleep.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile to herself? Had her friends been there all night? Did they really try to wait up for her? Okay…maybe seeing Harry sleeping there tensed and cold would make it a lot harder for her to move on. It was really sweet. She could only guess that Hermione was the one that kept the three from going to look for her. Y/N tip toed over to the three lumps as she summoned some blankets from the other side of the Common Room. She placed a blanket on both of them and took Harry’s glasses off his face. Then she saw the old piece of parchment open and clenched tightly in his fist.

Of course he’d pulled out the Marauder’s Map. She could now see where she was standing next to the three of them, but his finger was stationed at the entrance of where the room of requirement usually popped up. How did he know she would wind up there?

Y/N carefully pried the map out of Harry’s hands, so that she wouldn’t wake him up and mumbled “mischief managed” in order to make the parchment erase the lines of the castle and appear blank. Folding it and setting it next to his glasses, Y/N left the three and headed towards the stairs. But before she could get there, she heard movement. Not wanting to be noticed, she froze in her spot, hoping whoever it was had just been moving in their sleep.

“Y/N?” a soft voice rang out.

Y/N closed her eyes and scrunched up her face. So much for not being seen. Why had she gone over to her friends? Why hadn’t she just gone right upstairs?

Not knowing what else to do, Y/N turned back towards the fireplace to lock eyes with Harry’s, albeit sleepy, green eyes. He looked concerned and worried, but also happy and relieved at the same time. He picked up the glasses she had just taken off of his face and put them back on.

“Where did you go? Are you okay? We were worried when you didn’t come back,” he whispered, being mindful of the other two in the room.

“Uhhh, yeah. I just had to get away for a while and didn’t want to face a room full of girls…” she drew out, matching his soft voice.

“I understand. I wanted to come find you, but Hermione wouldn’t let us. I was going to sneak out after she went to bed, but then she stayed. Plus, she thought you may have gone to the room of requirement and said we wouldn’t be able to get to you if you didn’t want anyone bothering you…” Harry explained, recounting his night as quickly as possible.

“She sure does know me well,” Y/N replied, brushing one arm with her hand. When had it gotten so cold in here?

Harry must’ve noticed instantly because he immediately took off his jumper and tried to hand it to her.

“No, Harry, it’s okay. I’ll just go up to bed.”

Harry lowered the jumper, looking defeated. Now Y/N felt bad.

“Harry,” Y/N sighed. She had really wanted to avoid this.

“No, you don’t have to say it again. I heard you the first time. But, just let me say something?” Harry asked.

Y/N nodded in response.

“I don’t want to lose you. If you don’t want to be more than friends anymore, I understand. I was a complete prat, but I can’t lose you in my life. I still want you to be my friend. Of course, I won’t stop trying to prove myself to you, but that’s besides the point. I just need you with me in some way.” Harry’s eyes widened, begging her to understand. Of course she understood, that’s why she didn’t want to tell him how she felt to begin with. Why had she done that again?

“Of course I want to be in your life, Harry. I can’t imagine mine without you, but you might have to give me some space.” There she goes, continuing to put distance between them. Harry hated it.

“Well, how much space? Because we could keep that space to just the meter in between us across at the dinner table or…” Harry moved a little bit closer. Y/N was frozen in her spot. “Or, I could drop out of school and pretend not to go here for a month. I’ll go back to the Dursley’s if you need that much space.”

He moved towards her again. Y/N felt her heart thump in her chest. It was too early for this. She wasn’t in her right mind because it would just be so easy to give in to him right now. Why did his eyes have to melt her insides every time?

“Or, the only space could be the short distance when we sit next to each other in potions. Please, don’t go sit with the Slytherins again. Draco looked way too smug.” Y/N couldn’t help but smirk at that comment. He moved a few steps closer to her again. “Or, we could just forget the space…” Why oh why did he do this to her? By this point, Harry was towering over Y/N, pretty much daring her to look up at him and meet his eyes.

Y/N could feel his breath near her skin. It was warm and slow. She knew that he was waiting for her to do something. Common Y/N, just do something! – she thought. Shit! She gave in, she looked up to meet his eyes. There was a determination she had never seen in them before. It bared into her soul. She instinctively bit her lip, she couldn’t help it. She always did it when she was nervous.

She watched as Harry’s eyes wandered down her face and to her lips, then back up to her eyes. Damnit, she was going to give in.

Softer than she had ever spoke, she whispered, “Maybe, space is a little overrated…”

That was all he needed to crash his lips onto hers. His hands found their way to the nook between her face and neck and he pulled her closer to deepen the kiss. It felt like so much more than any kiss they had shared before.

Y/N was the first to pull away, breath heavy. “This is not what I had in mind when I told myself I was going to move on,” she whispered.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “No, probably not, but this way is definitely better for me,” he smirked.

Y/N let her hand move up to hold one of his, both of which were still holding her face. No, things that happen in movies don’t usually happen in real life, but maybe this was the exception. Maybe, this was her movie.

#harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter fic #angst #fluff #harry potter x gryffindor!reader #ron weasley x reader #hermione grander x platonic!reader #fred weasley x reader #goldentrio #golden trio #new fic #draco malfoy x reader #hp fanfic #hp #kalimagik

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mrsluthordanvers · 4 years

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This may seem like a really random question but has writing and reading femslash helped you come into your sexual and/or gender identities? I've been in the Supergirl fandom and other primarily f/f fandoms for quite some time and this is something that I've been wondering about recently.

Yes!!

This got really long, and really rambly, and probably tells more about my experience with fandom then you needed to know to answer this question. But here it is lol

I grew up in a relatively conservative and catholic family with limited access to media both bc of this and bc my family was low income. I remember as a little kid we only had a couple channels and when we did get cable when I was older, my parents would stop pay for it during summer months because they wanted us to go outside.

The only gay media I remember ever seeing growing up in my parents house was Imagine Me & You. I caught it once on TV and I have vivid memories of realizing what I was watching and sitting on the edge of the couch paranoid that my parents would come downstairs and catch me watching it. I remember setting up the remote so that when I hit the quick back button it would take me back to some cartoon channel. And glee. Which I was surprisingly actually allowed to watch. I was always waiting for it to get turned off but it never was.

Both my parents were very big on encouraging reading. When we asked for books, it was almost the only time I don’t remember being told no. I remember I spent tons of time in libraries as a kid and it was one of the only places I was allowed to go after school by myself when I was in junior high. And I loved to write, my mom was always asking her to tell me stories and I was always writing in journals.

Basically what I’m saying is that I really did Not have exposure to the gay community. And looking back it seems really natural that I started reading and writing femslash.

It took me a long time to get into though, and to seek out. Instead I was sneaking Nora Roberts books out of the library at grade 7 because they had sex in them. Sex, I thought, that was safe/healthy/whatever because these were the books my sister was reading. Plus my mom said they were too mature for me, and what’s a better motivator then being told no. I didn’t find famslash until very late into high school bc it never even occur to me that I could be reading cheesy romances that were f/f instead.

My first experience actually reading femslash was Rizzles fics on ff.net. I honestly have no idea how I found it bc at the time I couldn’t have told you what fandom was, or that tumblr existed. The only thing I remember knowing about fanfic was that if you said you read fanfic people assumed you were reading about weird sex about characters and would laugh at you. Honestly I might have only found fanfics bc glee was really big at the same time and I was probably hearing people talk about ships and fanfic even if I don’t remember it now. Either way I found it lol. And I read A Lot of rizzoli and isles fics.

And it helped. Towards the end of high school was when it really started to dawn on me that I might like girls and I didn’t have words for it, I didn’t know there was a community, and there certainly wasn’t people I was willing to ask.

Reading femslash was like opening a door. Suddenly I was being introduced to the same kind of cheesy romance writing I was already reading. I was being introduced to the idea of two women going on dates. Having healthy relationships. Having unhealthy relationships. Soft sex. Rough sex. Falling in love. Getting married. Having kids. And it really started to solidify that I liked women.

Up until that point the idea of being gay scared the fuck out of me bc what I knew was so limited, to me being gay = being alone. It meant I wasn’t allowed to have any of those things and I really resisted that.

Reading femslash was a big part of changing that perspective. It made me comfortable enough to tell a girl at 19 I had a crush on her. It helped me feel like it was okay to tell people I wasn’t straight when I went to university. It prompted me to search out more gay media when I went to university. I started to watch glee again. I watched DEBS, and Imagine Me and You, and Saving Face, and Gray Matters, and Bloomington, and Kissing Jessica Stein, and Loving Annabelle. Basically I went through the LGBT section of Netflix in a year.

A friend introduced me to tumblr and told me there was a big gay community. I followed some cool people and aesthetic blogs but honestly I still wasn’t quite finding it.

Then I watched The 100 while it was in season 2 in my last year of university. Completely unaware of Clarke and Lexa. I became obsessed lol. They kissed on screen and it was like a switch went off. I don’t know why it was that show instead of anything else I had been watching that spurred me on. But it did. I started looking up accounts on tumblr and following people and reading so so so much fanfic. I had started to find that vast community on tumblr my friend mentioned and started sending people asks and saw people actually answering asks, and posting their art and their writing. It encouraged me to try writing again, and ask a couple people if they would read stuff I posted.

And then supergirl came out and I was soooo excited for it that I started to try mimicking accounts I saw in the clexa fandom. I figured out how to make gifsets, and I liveblogged, and my friend told me to make a side fandom blog or she’d unfollow me lmao. Which I also didn’t know people did. I started this blog just before season 2 happened and it made for the perfect storm. I already had a small following, I was making content (even if it wasn’t great), and Lena got introduced. And suddenly I REALLY discovered how vast the gay community is bc it was suddenly knocking at my door. It was also a big BIG learning curve.

I was reading people’s fanfics and looking at their fanart. I was seeing depictions of different sexualities. And how two characters can be interpreted in such vastly different ways. I was being shown perspectives I hadn’t seen before, some that made me stop and go. Oh. It helped me identify my first label, and then also taught me labels can change, and mine did. I wasn’t just reading fics about two women in a relationship, I was opening fics and seeing me. I saw a piece of fanart of Butch Kara and thought, she looks like me. And then I started to see people writing about butch Kara and commenting about butch Kara and it wasn’t just, she looks like me. It became she looks like me, and that is desirable. And that gave me confidence. I stopped shaving, my wardrobe has started to change, I started buying things I wanted to wear not that I thought I should wear. I learned I wanted people to see me and think I was handsome or attractive before they thought I pretty or cute lol

Writing femslash has a different kind of self reflection. I like to think I have started to notice when I project things on to characters, and think about why those things are important to me. Or why I get defensive over certain headcanons. All things that have made me step back and look at my own sexuality and gender identity. Which honestly I’m still figuring out and is still changing, but I’ve learned that’s okay too (fanfic has also normalized that for me lol)

Art is meant to make you feel things, think about things. I don’t think fanfic or fanart is any different. Sometimes it is just meant to make you feel you horny and sometimes it makes you reflect on whether or not you might be butch. Personally I think it’s very cool that it’s so powerful

#no clue what to tag this #y'all getting a big dose of me today #this took me forever to wrangle up in my head and write #but short answer #yes femslash has definitely helped me navigate my sexuality and gender #answered #Anonymous

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gameofdrarry · 4 years

Text

Wizards Hearts Recs: Bed Sharing

Wizards Hearts was a four-month-long Drarry reading fest. Players were given a playing deck of 52 tropes, and were asked to find 52 different fics to read and comment on to fill their decks. To prevent the same few fics from being read, fics were restricted to only being used for the game three times before being considered ineligible for further points. The tropes and submissions list can be found here.

Check out the masterlist of fics for this trope below the cut!

📜 The Sheep Whisperer by RurouniHime Rated: Mature Words: 13674 Tags: Sheep & Goats, Alternate Universe - Canon, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Love Confessions, Angst and Humor, Jealousy, Moving In Together, Don't copy to another site Summary: No good deed goes unpunished, especially if the deed is Draco Malfoy’s. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Trouble With Good Sense by RurouniHime Rated: Mature Words: 7863 Tags: Humor, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Partnership, Alternate Universe - Canon, Post - Deathly Hallows, HP: EWE, Hotels, Bar Room Brawl, Jealousy, Hurt/Comfort, Auror Conference, Friends to Lovers, Misunderstanding, First Kiss, Don't copy to another site Summary: When you fill a hotel with flying quills, hands-on demonstrations, and too many Aurors, someone is bound to get cranky. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 the in-betweens by derekmaliknurse Rated: Teen and Up Words: 42759 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Roommates, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Parvati Patil/Daphne Greengrass, Minor Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas, Minor Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Found Families Summary: A tale of inter-house unity, Dirty Dancing, the various charms of certain Gryffindors and the Slytherins who fall for them, and Celestina Warbeck, in which Harry James Potter shares a room with one Draco Malfoy and despite seven years of past seething hatred, has the time of his life. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 And There Was Only One Bed by defective-talos Rated: Not Rated Words: Unknown Tags: aurorpartners, dracomalfoy, drarry, enemiestolovers, fluff, forcedproximity, harrypotter, magicaltheory, mutualpining, onlyonebed Summary: Draco and Harry have to spend the night together during a routine Auror mission, but there's a small problem: there is Only One Bed. ----- A narrative version of OTPshipper98's memefic by the same title! ❤️ Read on Wattpad

📜 Cabin Fever by cloudings Rated: Explicit Words: 15012 Tags: Post-Second War with Voldemort, Anal Sex, Sharing a Bed, Wet Dream, Masturbation in Shower, Trapped, Forced Proximity, Sex Toys, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot Summary: "We're trapped! We're fucking trapped!" Malfoy exclaimed, throwing his hands above his head and turning away in disbelief. "I'm trapped in a fucking love-cabin with Harry Potter!" Harry and Draco end up trapped in a twisted, perverted, and royally fucked up house in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, also known as a Love-Cabin. Yes, it's exactly what it sounds like. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Muttering Retreats of Restless Nights by lumberjackbeards Rated: Teen and Up Words: 1195 Tags: Pre-Relationship, Panic Attacks, Claustrophobia, Sharing a Bed Summary: So there they were, stranded in the middle of nowhere in fucking Wales, and the supposed “inn” they were forced into only had one room. With one bed. And Draco smelt of sheep. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve this. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Once Upon an Eighth Year by ladyroxanne21 Rated: Explicit Words: 35416 Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Sharing a Room, Sharing a Bed, Oblivious Harry, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Confused Harry, Humor, Probably a little crack, UST, Slow Build Summary: When Harry goes back to Hogwarts for a so-called Eighth Year, he's told by McGonagall that he has to share a room with Draco and that they had better both behave or else they'd *both* be expelled. Rather than grumble, both try to make the best of the situation with Draco providing (non-sexual) comfort each night when Harry has nightmares. Slowly, Harry grows ever more confused about the gorgeous Slytherin. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Such Promises by JosephineStone Rated: Mature Words: 4060 Tags: Sharing a Bed, Rain Summary: The prompt describes it rather well. Prompt: S31 : An unexpected storm floods the dungeons so the Slytherins are forced to share dorm space for the night with the Gryffindors. Harry is the only one who'll share a bed with Draco. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Sleeping Beauty Curse by who_la_hoop Rated: Explicit Words: 152548 Tags: UST, Pining, Forced Bonding, Fake Relationship, Forced Proximity, Humour, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Falling In Love, Magical Sex Toys, Post-War, Semi-Public Sex, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Community: hd_erised, Background Femslash, Fluff and Angst, slow-burn, wanking, so much wanking, bed sharing, getting drunk, sucking cock, Frottage, Nightmares, Families of Choice, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort Summary: When Draco Malfoy falls into a cursed sleep and can only be woken – at least, according to the Daily Prophet, that impeccable source of truth – by ‘true love’s kiss’, Harry Potter knows there’s no way on earth he’s the answer to this particular riddle. Is he . . .? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 A Weekend in Heaven('s Inn) by gnarf Rated: Teen and Up Words: 2754 Tags: Humor, Getting Together, Established Relationship, HP Joggers Fest, Hotels, Roommates, Sharing a Bed Summary: One weekend, two Professors, a couple of students, and a lot of different stories of finding love while wearing joggers, leggings, or nothing at all. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Catch and Release by shealwaysreads (onereader) Rated: Explicit Words: 11293 Tags: Forced Bonding, Wizarding Traditions (Harry Potter), Bonding Spell, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Well - Freeform, Enemies to Forced Bonding to Lovers, Touch Averse Draco Malfoy, also, Touch-Starved Draco Malfoy, THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, Forced Proximity, Forced Cohabitation, personal boundaries, Bodyguard Harry Potter, Feels, minor harry/omc, Happy Ending, Happy Birthday Tacky!!, Touch-Starved Harry Potter Summary: Wizarding Britain is changing; a slow integration with the Muggle world has begun, and Draco Malfoy has been summoned from his quiet life crafting wards in France to help. But that’s not what this story is about. This story is about Potter, and magic, and the courage it takes to reach out. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Take My Hand by daisymondays Rated: Explicit Words: 12814 Tags: Summer, Summer Romance, Pining, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, First Kiss, Drinking Games, Harry Potter Has Dimples, Draco Malfoy Can't Cope, Fluff, Sharing a Bed, Auror Partners, Draco Has Feels To Spare, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Meddling Friends, Touching, Soooo Much Touching, HP: EWE Summary: Draco has long resigned himself to pining after Harry... that is until an invite on the annual Ministry holiday gives him a chance to change everything. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Better To Burn Than To Fade Away by Ren Rated: Explicit Words: 23227 Tags: HP: EWE, Broomstick Racing, Love/Hate, Making Out, Minor Injuries, Rimming, Barebacking, Feelings, Denial of Feelings, acceptance of feelings, Drunk Sex mentions, Broom Racer Harry Potter, Organiser Draco Malfoy, H/D Career Fair 2017, Pining Draco Malfoy, Pining Harry Potter, Harry Potter Has a Saving People Thing, Romance Summary: Harry Potter is a legend in the world of broomstick racing. He's won almost every cup, trophy, and bowl – except for the historical London-Nome which has been on hiatus for the past several years. Now the London-Nome is starting again, and Harry will do anything to pull off one last big win. Draco Malfoy is one of the organisers of the London-Nome. The race is infamous for its accidents, but Draco is adamant that this year nothing will go wrong. However, between bad weather and international problems en route, the biggest trouble is he can't stop running into Potter. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Whatever May Come by charlotteschaos Rated: Explicit Words: 65513 Tags: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Underage, Crossdressing Kink, Object Insertion, First Time, Bottom Draco, Top Harry Summary: Post HBP (Horcrux hunt) Harry/Draco The trio discovers that Draco Malfoy is hidden away at Spinner's End and Harry recruits him to be a member of the team. *Complete* Winner of Forbidden Desires "Just As It Should Be" 2006 award. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Safe Haven by gnarf Rated: Explicit Words: 30166 Tags: Final Battle, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Angst, Fluff, Curses, Canonical Character Death, Healing, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Sharing Clothes, Party Games, Firewhiskey (Harry Potter), Praise Kink, St Mungo's Hospital, Enemies to Friends to Lovers Summary: After switching sides during the final battle, and finding himself with nowhere to go in the aftermath, Luna invites Draco to live with her at Safe Haven. Not knowing what to expect, but having no other options, Draco takes the opportunity and follows her. When they arrived, Draco couldn’t help but realize that whatever he had expected, this surely wasn’t it. He didn’t expect a mouldy old house that belonged to Potter, of all people, and he certainly didn’t expect that Potter would be living there as well. But even with these minor (major) complications, he'd be damned if he wasn’t going to try and make this work. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 9 ½ Days by magpie_fngrl Rated: Explicit Words: 47904 Tags: Canon Divergence, Canon detour more like, Sharing a Bed, Wandlore (Harry Potter), Explicit Sexual Content, Angst with a Happy Ending, Holocaust, Animal Death(not on page), Mildly Dubious Consent, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Romani & Travelers, First Time Summary: After the events at the Manor, Harry and Draco find themselves stranded in the countryside with a broken wand and Death Eaters on their tail. This is the story of an uneasy truce, featuring faerie forests, seaside caves, Romani camps, kind old ladies, and a shared bed in an attic. Or how two boys fell in love in the midst of a bloody coup. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 No Rules in Breakable Heaven by parkkate Rated: Teen and Up Words: 10106 Tags: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Secrets, Magical Accidents, mpreg (but not really and it's neither Harry or Draco), Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Mildly Dubious Consent, (due to alcohol), Sharing a Bed, Oblivious Harry Potter, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Ministry of Magic Employee Draco Malfoy, Community: hp_drizzle, HP Drizzle Fest 2020 Summary: When a magical rainstorm reveals everyone's deepest desires, Harry learns far more about his friends and colleagues than he ever wanted to know. Worst of all, he suddenly has to face his own deepest desire. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 True Children Still by gracerene Rated: Explicit Words: 34240 Tags: Post-Hogwarts, Developing Relationship, Aurors, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Draco Malfoy, Kink Discovery, Kink Negotiation, Kink Exploration, Dom/sub Undertones, Dom Draco Malfoy, Daddy Dom Draco Malfoy, Sub Harry Potter, Subspace, littlespace, Age Play, Daddy Kink, Internalized Kink Shaming, Praise Kink, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Switching, Endearments, Dating, Minor Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor Ginny Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Drinking, Italy, Age Play Little Harry Potter, H/D Sex Fair 2020 Summary: After years of dancing around each other, Draco and Harry have finally begun to date, though they're taking things slow. They've got enough to figure out as it is, and the last thing Harry needs is an unexpected introduction to desires he's not quite ready to face. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Eye of the Storm by Mx_Maneater Rated: Explicit Words: 25420 Tags: POV Draco Malfoy, Trapped, Sharing a Bed, Non-Linear Narrative, Enemies to Lovers, Draco Malfoy is Clueless About Muggle Things, Sassy Harry Potter, Missions Gone Wrong, Forced Proximity, OH MY GOD they were roommates (but by accident), Trust Issues, Explicit Sexual Content, HP Drizzle Fest 2020, Community: hp_drizzle Summary: A storm rages blindly around a cabin with no doors. Without magic, Draco and Harry are trapped inside. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 The Romantic Prawn Who Loved Christmas by bixgirl1 Rated: Explicit Words: 39404 Tags: Hogwarts Eighth Year, room sharing, bed sharing, Pureblood Holiday Customs, Magical Holiday Theory, Falling In Love, Pining, Flirting, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sleep wanking, Facials, Blowjobs, Rimming, Loss of Virginity, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Gift Giving, Christmas, background Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy Summary: When Draco, forced into sharing a room with Potter for the year, finds out that Potter has a sleepwalking problem, he expects the odd conversations and the weird games of chess. What comes as a complete shock are Potter's other activities...And why he seems so intent on having Draco join him. (Relax. It's just like a holiday Hallmark movie! ...With, uhm, sleepwanking.) ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 On Your Shore by xanthippe74 Rated: Mature Words: 35113 Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Mystery, Scotland, Dark Magic, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Pining, Sharing a Bed, First Time, Non-Explicit Sex, Demisexual Harry Potter, Bisexual Harry Potter, Gay Draco Malfoy, Closeted Draco Malfoy, Curse Breaker Harry Potter, Antiques Appraiser Draco Malfoy, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Good Parent Draco Malfoy, Past Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Married Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, H/D Sex Fair 2020 Summary: Clearing out a remote house full of cursed collectibles in the Outer Hebrides? Not a problem for an experienced curse breaker like Harry Potter. Spending a week with the straight, happily-married man that he’s starting to have feelings for? And sharing a bed with him at night? Surely Harry can handle that, too. But both the house and Draco Malfoy have secrets to uncover, and Harry might be in deeper water than he thought. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Protective Bonds by Sadie Dragonfire (justbolts) Rated: Explicit Words: 38967 Tags: Magical Bond, Sharing a Bed, Forced Cohabitation, Written Pre-Order of the Phoenix, Enemies to Lovers, Companionable Snark, Frottage, Humor, Slow Romance, Unknown feelings Summary: Hermione discovers a book with an interesting protection spell. Testing it out has unforeseen consequences for Harry and Draco. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 Salt on the Western Wind by Saras_Girl Rated: Mature Words: 60549 Tags: N/A Summary: When the war isn’t quite as over as it first appears, a guilt-ridden Harry is sent to a mysterious safe-house. Among sandwiches, insomnia, and Mills & Boon, he discovers something quite unexpected. [Smoochfest 2012] ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 What Separates Us by swtalmnd Rated: Explicit Words: 79989 Tags: Rape/Non-con, Underage, Drama & Romance, Challenge Response, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Rape/Non-con Elements, BDSM, Incest, Violence, Non-con Lucius/Draco, no Harry/Draco bad touching Summary: Harry does something phenomenally stupid in Potions class, and the consequences are farther-reaching than anyone suspects. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 A Convenient Impracticality by firethesound Rated: Explicit Words: 38540 Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Pining, Friends With Benefits, Obliviousness, Bad dates, blind dates, Semi-Public Sex, Breakfast, Bickering and Banter, Sharing a Bed, Bars and Pubs, Drunken Shenanigans, Cake Summary: Somehow Harry ends up agreeing to a fake relationship with his ex-nemesis-turned-friendly-acquaintance-with-benefits, except for some reason it involves an awful lot of actual dating and, sadly, not much sex. Confused? Harry is too, but when has anything with Draco Malfoy ever been as straightforward as it seems? ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 A Ghost in the Garden by thistle_verse Rated: Explicit Words: 27176 Tags: Aurors, Auror Partners, casefic, Pining, Awkward Bed Sharing, Sexual Tension, Snark, society shenanigans, Dragons, Alcohol Abuse, Mentions of Violence, Community: hd_erised, Ghosts Summary: That night Draco dreams, and he is the ghost in his garden. He is both silvered figment and his own solid and flesh face pressing against the window, watching. Spinning and spun, haunting and haunted. Turned and turning, an open mouth with no sound. Harry and Draco are thrown together on an investigation into a sinister political movement. ❤️ Read on AO3

📜 when we're done sleeping (we'll stay busy dreaming) (Lucky13 #7) by megyal Rated: Teen and Up Words: 1729 Tags: Sharing a Bed Summary: An Auror protects an important member of the Wizengamot. ❤️ Read on AO3

#game of drarry #drarry #drarry recs #wizards hearts #wh masterlist

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moonyandsaturn · 3 years

Text

Paper Rings

little dorlene fic that you can also read here

The moon was high, hanging in the night sky with smoking smells flowing to it. Out the window into the midnight streets.

“I’m not sure this is exactly how I want to meet your friends.”

“What do you mean this is perfect!” Lily smiled.

Dorcas looked around at the abnormally large flat. The walls were covered in nicely printed wallpaper and slightly dusty frames hung paintings Dorcas couldn't remember from any of their art history classes.

“Geez, this place is giant,” Dorcas whistled as Lily continued dragging her up the stairs. The sound of laughter from a higher room (with even higher people in it) was made clearer.

“Yeah, Sirius is a rich asshole,” Lily replied, earning a laugh from her. “Even painted all those paintings himself because he wanted to be original,” she mocked.

“Ha! So who's all here?”

“Oh so there's Remus who you’ve met. Then this is Sirius’ place so obviously he’d here. And then we have James of course.” James was Lily’s fiance. They got engaged about 2 months ago and the wedding would come along soon enough.

“Is that it?”

“No, there's Marlene too. You’ve probably seen her around. She's on the volleyball team.” Dorcas shook their head not remembering any of that. “Well, that's fine anyway they're over here.”

Lily opened the door to a large room. It was sort of a lounge room, it had a TV and all that. Normally they wouldn't be upstairs though.

The two of them entering earned a few “Heyyys!!” and “It was about time you guys got here!” James got up to give Lily a kiss before leading both of them over to the couch they were all on, Remus was already rolling a joint for them.

“Dorcas right?” they looked up at the person asking. She must be Marlene . The girl talking had dirty blonde hair pinned up in a messy low bun. She was wearing a much too large brown leather jacket with a band tee and jeans as well.

“Um, yeah. They/she,” Dorcas had grown accustomed to just telling people their pronouns as a greeting. It just made things much easier.

Marlene smiled back. It had a sort of crookedness to it, in between a smirk and a grin. “She/her.” Dorcas nodded back as she received the fag from Remus.

The talking went long into the night, or morning that is. It was an interesting group of people. Marlene and Sirius were probably the more extroverted and outspoken out of them, though Sirius was kind of whipped and would shut up if Remus said so. Marlene seemed to just constantly flirt with her. Dorcas understood it may just be how her personality seems to her but sometimes it got annoying. Of course she already met Lily and James long ago and didn't learn anything new about them.

Marlene seemed especially interested in her dating life.

“Yeah, and then we broke up. They were pretty nice but it just didn't make sense for us to be together.”

“they?” Marlene looked up from her phone. looks like she was listening

“yeah, me and my partner.”

“Ever dated a girl before?”

“Maybe” Dorcas winked and turned back to finish her story.

By maybe that meant never, and Dorcas was simply playing the pronoun game. Dorcas did have a preference for girls right but they had only dated guys up till now. 3 actually. First was her high school boyfriend that lasted 5 months, Charlie Robeson. Charlie came out as trans several years later so maybe Dorcas should have said her high school girlfriend . 2nd was Gideon Prewitt. They dated for 2 years. Two years of her life wasted really. Dorcas shook the thought from their head. Gideon was a douchebag who could go fuck himself. Her last boyfriend wasn't really a boyfriend at all, they fake dated to get someone else jealous. Ah, yes fake-dating Remus Lupin was probably the best out of her romantic encounters, excluding the part when him and Sirius forgot to lock the bathroom door and Dorcas happened to walk in at the wrong time.

They got into the elevator up to her flat. It was eerily silent at this hour of the morn, creepy almost. She played with her keys for a moment, trying to find the right one before pushing the door open to her modest flat.

Dorcas tossed themself onto her bed kicking the duvet over her body, snoring lightly to sleep and the sun started making colorful patterns in the sky.

☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾

“Oh, come on Meadowes! Surely you must like me a little after 2 months!”

“Marlene, you’ve been asking me out as a joke for 2 months. sorry I’m not looking to get humiliated!”

Dorcas could hear Marlene catching up to her, a stupid fucking smirk playing on her lips. “What if it's not a joke?”

“Then we wouldn't really be here, huh?” Dorcas said, pulling her bag tighter to her.

“Just a small dinner! You don't even need to come home with me.”

“What a generous offer,” Dorcas rolled their eyes.

“Oh, you know I'm joking,” Marlene smiled, walking backwards to try to keep up with her. “Come on, what's your favorite food? We can go get that when you're free.”

Dorcas sighed and stopped to face Marlene, she was only a couple inches taller than her. Maybe 5’10 or 11. “What about when you’re free?”

Marlene beamed. “Anytime is good.”

“Not now it is, get your ass over here McKinnon! Actually go get the ball then come back!” A booming coach's voice came from the volleyball court.

Marlene bent down to pick up the ball and gave Dorcas a little two fingered salute before running back to the court. “See you later, Meadowes! For dinner!!”

“Hey! That wasn't a yes!” Dorcas called back to her, not receiving a response and shaking her head as she walked away.

Neither of them had each other's phone number so it's fine. To be quite honest, Dorcas wouldn't mind a date. Marlene was attractive and funny, just very very persistent. She could be compared to James in high school, poor Lily.

Dorcas took her thoughts away from their almost date and walked over to the bus stop to meet up with some people for her group project. They convinced everyone to meet up at their favorite coffee shop. Dorcas was unreasonably excited to get some coffee in her system, specifically mocha with some foam and chocolate drizzle on top.

Curse you Remus, now I'm addicted to shit Dorcas thought as she drank almost the entire thing under 5 minutes. She got her things out to wait for the others.

she got home at a decent time, just as the moon rose and the sun set. Dorcas made themself some popcorn to watch a movie with.

Ding! Dorcas checked the microwave but the popcorn wasn't done. Ding! She realized it was her phone and picked it off the counter to see the messages from an unknown number.

Marlene: Hey I thought we were gonna have dinner :(

Marlene: also don't hate me Lily was the one who gave me your number after she saw me stalking you

Marlene: also this is Marlene probably should have said that first so you don't think I'm a creep

Dorcas: You are a creep

Marlene: ouch

Marlene: I thought you liked me Meadowes

Dorcas: I never said that

Marene: Maybe you’re in denial ;))

Dorcas: hmmm let me think

Dorcas: no

Marlene: :((((

Marlene: well now that I can text you when are you free?

Dorcas: you really are annoying aren't you?

Marlene: nah just know what i want

Marlene: soooo????

Dorcas: I'm watching a movie right now

Marlene: ok?

Dorcas: ok so you can come over you persistent arse

Dorcas: you can get my address from lily too creepy

Marlene: is that my new nickname??

Marlene: I deal with the name calling just for you, see you in a minute :))

Dorcas sighed and looked over at the microwaved that was now smoking and smelled of burnt popcorn. She cleaned it up and opened up the windows before enjoying watching some stupid reels on instagram.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Marlene grinned at Dorcas opened the door.

“Har, har,” she deadpanned and let her inside.

“What's that?”

Marlene set a bag on top of Dorcas’ dining table. She didn't answer and instead pulled out one of those bags of sweet people normally bought at halloween.

Dorcas laughed at the size of it. “I don't think we’ll be able to eat all that.”

“That's what you think. I could survive solely off of starbursts,” Marlene replied.

“The orange ones are the best.”

Marlene turned to face them with her mouth open with disgust. “Those are the worst ones!”

“No, the worst ones are pink.”

“I think we need your senses checked, love. There's definitely something wrong with your taste.” Marlene moved closer and Dorcas’ cheeks warmed up at the pet name.

“C’mon I just got Disney plus so we can watch something on there.”

Marlene followed Dorcas to her couch giddily, “Oooo, I vote for Princess and the Frog.” She plopped down on the other side of the couch and Dorcas tossed her a blanket.

“Yeah, okay. Princess and the frog and Mulan are probably my favorites.” She got the remote to turn the TV on.

“Well, maybe your taste isn't all that damaged,” Marlene smiled before turning to watch the movie.

Movie rolled for the full 1 hour and 38 minutes and for part of the credits. The two didn't talk much only making comments here and there, laughing at things they thought funny and pointing when something interesting happened.

“I would die to have something like Ray and Evangeline.”

Dorcas looked over at Marlene who was still watching the credits rolling in tune with the background music.

“The firefly and the star?”

Marlene faced her once again.“Mhm, yeah. I’d wait my whole life for that.”

“Yeah, it's sweet isn't it? How much he cared.”

“Mhm,” Dorcas’ breath hitched. they didn't know whether they were moving closer or if it was Marlene. Oh, it was Marlene and how welcome the closeness was.

Dorcas closed the small gap between their faces. Place a light kiss on the girls lips. When she pulled away only a second later Marlene still had her eyes closed, a soft smile set on her face. She opened up her eyes to see Dorcas who probably looked like a nervous wreck. Marlene's smile broadened.

“Can I kiss you?”

Dorcas fought back her own smile before sitting up and pushing their lips together again, this time less unsure.

They were like that for a long time, hands running in each other's hair (which Dorcas was surprised her curls didn't get tangled in). Pulling each other closer by the neck, running thumbs over soft cheeks.

They eventually pulled apart to breathe. “I wasn't expecting that till maybe the third date.”

“Not’s not a date,” Dorcas held in a laugh and looked away from Marlene who was eyeing her.

“Of course not. Not after you insult pink starbursts,” Marlene said before turning her back to Dorcas, claiming a spot on her lap, sort of using Dorcas as a back rest. they didn't mind. It was the perfect height. Dorcas lifted their chin onto her head and wrapped their arms around her shoulders. She quickly places a kiss into her hair before letting the night's sleep take over them.

☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾

1 year later:

Dorcas blinked herself awake.

“Morning.”

They looked up at Marlene who had her arm around her head. “Morning. Did I oversleep?”

She looked away from the book she was reading. Ever since Dorcas moved in They’d been reading all the books on her bedside table and now Marlene had to catch up. “No, think you got a bit of a cold, sorry.”

“It's okay,” Dorcas closed her eyes again, feeling comfortable in their girlfriends embrace.

The night before the whole gang took a trip to the beach. At night. Cause they were all utterly stupid. Marlene went into the ocean first urging everyone else to also. James jumped in after free to wallow in his youth and was happy to get a break from babysitting. Harry was an amazing kid but his godfather was also Sirius so Harry too was a bit chaotic. Dorcas eventually joined everyone in the freezing water, Dorcas could have sworn they turned blue.

Marlene turned abruptly, causing Dorcas’ head to fall back on the pillow which wasn't nearly as comfortable as her. “Would you ever want to live together?”

Well, thats an odd conversation starter. Dorcas laughed. “We already are.”

“No, I know that. I mean when we're out of uni, working and all that.”

“Oh, I never thought of that.”

“I’m just saying we don't have to decide I just thought maybe-”

“I never said I didn't want to,” Dorcas cut her off before Marlene started rambling. “I think it would be nice.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Yeah, so stop worrying, creepy,” she laughed.

Marlene gave them a deadpan expression. “When are you gonna stop calling me that!”

“Never,” Dorcas grinned. “Sooo, would you just wanna live together or?”

Marlene laid back down, looking at the ceiling and Dorcas leaned over her. “I don't know. We could drive away and live in the country maybe. We can work from home so our dreary Mondays aren't so dreary.”

Darcas laid down next to her. “We’re bound to have fights and stuff, though.”

“That's fine,” Marlene faced her, but didn't move her body. “We wouldn't be able to be happy if we’re not angry sometimes.”

Dorcas sat up again, pulling Marlene up with her. “Would you ever want to get married?”

Marlene rolled her tongue on the inside of her cheek. “Yeah. Don't have that much money though. Can't get you anything shiny and nice like you deserve.”

Dorcas took Marlene’s hands in theirs.“I hate accidents but you know? I didn't really mind it when we went from friends to this. You’re the one I want, Marlene McKinnon. And I’d marry you with paper rings.”

#taylor swift inspired #dorlene #dorcas meadowes #marlene mckinnon #lesbian marlene #marauders #marauders era #lily evans #modern au #harry potter

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thebsunit · 4 years

Text

Potential by @thebsunit

A Teen! Reader x bau team fic

After spending some time with your Zio Rossi, you see Morgan and JJ sparring and ask for a two on one training with them

A/n

Hey! So this is my first fic, and I'm really excited to share this with yall! This idea came up when @stxrryspencer posted and was like “what teen!reader x bau fic should I write?” And I commented a million times and this was one of those comments! So check there's out too! I’m not sure when it’ll be out but soooo much of their writing is good! We had the same basic idea but wrote it differently :) so that's cool! There are a few words that aren't in English (Italian) so I'll add a little translation index and author's notes at the end.

Potential by @thebsunit

Word count: 3132

“I'm nervous,”

“Don't be,” Spencer told you “besides-”

“Okay but what if Morgan beats the absolute crap out of me,” you interrupted “I asked for a sparring session! He's strong,”

“Don't be nervous, Y/n,” Emily consoled over a sip of coffee “Morgan probably won't go easy on you. And neither will JJ. But there's a difference between beating somebody up and being pushed past your limits so you'll be able to grow,”

“And besides,” Spencer continued, “In the not at all likely possibility that Morgan beats the absolute crap out of you. Rossi will definitely kill him,”

That much was true, and you pondered over it as Emily gave you pointers. Which flew right over your head.

You, Spencer, and Emily were spending some quality time together while your Zio Rossi was in a meeting with Hotch. It wasn't a secret that JJ and Morgan were the most athletically inclined out of the team, you knew that after watching a take down (albeit from the safety of the polie cruiser) and seeing Morgan pin the unsub to the ground while JJ pulled out a pair of handcuffs. It was impressive, and you wondered if they had somehow managed to chase the unsub to where you were so you could see everything up close and personal. Later that night, you had asked your Zio Rossi if a training session with the two of them would be a possibility. He said yes, and texted the two of them. Who had enthusiastically agreed.

Now you were having a coffee with Emily and Spencer. Telling them you had a training session with them the next day, followed by a sparring session that the team was invited to watch.

“So if there's JJ and Morgan, then you..” Spencer pondered aloud “Who are you fighting with? Surely it's not going to be a two on one battle, that wouldn't be fair at all,”

“Oh! No no, not at all,” Emily and Spencer both looked relieved “What JJ said is that she'll be my personal coach during the spar, not fight. So like.. she'll yell out encouragement and tips and stuff,”

“So it is like a two on one battle!” Emily said

You snorted into your coffee “Yea, I guess. Just not in Morgan's favor,”

“Serves him right! Hey, y/n, just for me, make sure to give him a nice sucker punch in the-”

“Reid!” Emily yelled while you shouted “Spencer!” at the same time

“Kidding, kidding! I’m kidding!” Spencer said as you pelted empty sugar packets at him.

——

“Are you nervous?”

Penny was driving you to the boxing gym that your “personal trainers” frequented often. There was a boxing ring, too, and you had briefly wondered if you should have borrowed a pair of gloves.

“Not really. At least not in the sense that you think I would be. I have the training, and then I’m gonna spar with Morgan. I’m more nervous I’m gonna make a fool of myself in front of people I look up to,” you explained, tightening your ponytail. Which was a nervous habit you had adopted “ask me again in three hours when I'll actually box with Morgan,”

She laughed and glanced over at you before blowing a kiss to the pair of pink fuzzy dice hanging on her rear view mirror “There! A bit of luck for you, darling”

“Thanks, Penny,”

You looked down at your knuckles and at the roll of athletic tape that JJ told you to bring. You felt the car come to a stop and looked up to see a bright red fitness center sign.

“You’re here, sweet cheeks! Wanna text Morgan and JJ you’re here? I think they’re inside warming up a bit. Maybe pulling a few strings to get the place cleared out for fight night!” Penny sensed your nervousness and bought you a few seconds to put it off before you walked in

“Yea, I’ll text them right now,” you said and pulled out your phone. Texting the groupchat with you, JJ, and Morgan that has been dubbed “the number one rule of fight club..”

The number one rule of fight club...

Y/n: Hey, I’m here!

JJ: Awesome! Come on in, Morgan got us a private room by flexing at the receptionist

Morgan: Hey! With guns like these, I can’t just let them go without use.

Y/n: Hahaha. Okay, I’m coming in right now. I’m in a blue tank top and leggings if you see me before I see you

JJ: Great, if you get lost ask the receptionist for directions

Morgan: And don’t hesitate to name drop me, you never know what perks you’ll get if she knows you’re with a god like me ;)

You laughed and grabbed your bag, letting Penny read the thread while you got yourself together.

“Okay! Let’s go. I’m going, I’m gone!” You yelled over your shoulder at Penny once she passed your phone back to you.

“Okay, love you!” She responded, blasting Eye of the Tiger from her car window as she drove away.

You squared your shoulders and walked in. The smell of sweat overpowering your senses. Almost immediately you didn’t know where you were going. So, begrudgingly, you went up to the blonde receptionist who looked way too energetic.

“Um, hi. Do you know where the private rooms are?”

“Hi, gorgeous! I’m Abby, which room number are you going in to?” She practically yelled at you

“Aw crap. I don’t know which room number it is,” You internally panicked

Then you remembered that Morgan said you could name drop. He probably didn’t give you the number just for that reason

“Sly, dog..” you thought

“Um.. I’m not sure but I’m here with Morgan? Derek Morgan,” you corrected yourself then saw Abby start blushing and leaned over to you

“Oh, Derek, what a handsome young man! Of course, you’re in 2B. Can I get you a water? They’re usually a buck, but if you’re with Derek I’ll let a few ‘go lukewarm’” She whispered the last part and winked at you.

You smiled. Morgan sure did have something different that got all the ladies to swoon.

“Yes, please, that would be wonderful. I’ll tell Morgan, that you gave us some,” You collected the water. Condensation pooling on your fingertips and yelled over your shoulder “Thank you, Abby!”

She winked at you again and pointed you in the direction.

“Hi guys,” you smiled nervously and held out the waters “Abby gave us waters, I may have name dropped you, Morgan,”

“Haha, nice!” Morgan walked over and gave you a high five “Thank you, Abby,”

“Hi, y/n, want me to wrap your hands for you?” JJ asked

“Yes, please,”

You sat down on a bench and held out your hands, unsure whether to put your palms up or down and trying to ignore the obvious tremor in them.

Apparently palms up was the correct placement as JJ gently, but securely, wove the tape through your fingers. “So what we're gonna do today is just teach you some of the basics in boxing. That’s what Morgan and I have been properly trained in, and what I think is the most fun-“

She was cut off by Morgan

“Hey, doll face, are you shaking?” He grabbed one of your hands in his own “Don’t be nervous, y/n. We're gonna teach you first. We wouldn't just throw you to the wolves. And even when we do box it out,” he mimed a duck and upper cut “with JJ giving you pointers I’m sure you’re gonna do fine. Even if you don’t manage to beat me,”

“Yea, Y/n. You’re gonna do great, I promise,” She finished taping up your hands and stood up “Okay. We’re gonna teach you the basics in boxing, and then some cardio to get your blood pumping. After we have the ring to ourselves! I'm friends with the owner, so James said we could stay late,” JJ whispered the last part to you

“Learning, cardio, practice, go, got it,” you looked up eagerly at JJ and bounced on your toes “which moves first?”

——-

You genuinely had no idea how Morgan still seemed to be full of so much energy. He was bouncing on his toes and had a look of fire in his eyes as he danced around in front of the mirror. You looked over at JJ who was on her phone.

“Y/n?” She called to you

“Mhm?”

“Spencer and Emily want to know if they could come watch us. Garcia said she'll be here in spirit but she loves you and Morgan too much to see either of you at each other,”

You laughed at Garcia's reasoning “What about Hotch? And Zio Rossi?”

JJ frowned “They really wanted to come, they swear, but Strauss called them in for a last minute meeting. Something about paperwork. They say they're so sorry, but if you let Spencer and Emily come they want them to film it?”

You tried not to let the relief show on your face. It was your dream to work in the FBI and if Hotch, someone with an incredible amount of power (at least to you), saw you get absolutely clobbered you weren't sure if you could ever go back. At least with your pride.

“That's okay!” You said “Tell Spencer and Emily to come! If Abby's still working ask if they can bring some more waters down, I'm worried I might need the coldness for a makeshift ice pack,”

You didn't want Morgan to hear how nervous you were. It worried you that he might go easy on you when you needed him to push your limits.

“Got it! I'll text them right now,” JJ turned back to her phone and you watched Morgan hype himself up “Rossi said we can have dinner with everyone at his place, and Spencer and Emily are 10 minutes away,”

“Awesome sauce, thanks JJ,”

“Anytime,”

You unwound your tape, JJ said it would be good to stretch your hands, and you flexed your fingers. Yelling over your shoulder that you were going to the bathroom.

“One last nervous pee, I got this,” you whispered to yourself

It was about a half hour or so after closing, but the bathrooms were still open. You looked yourself up and down in the mirror and took a breath to steady your nerves. While you were studying your posture JJ walked in.

“Hey, Morgans already in the ring. Emily and Spencer are there too. I'm gonna give you some pointers, okay?”

You nodded. Splashing your face with cool water and watching JJ through the mirror reflection.

“Okay. I think this goes without saying but no hits below the belt, no matter how much Reid paid you off,” you laughed out loud and nodded your head “Alright. I'm gonna be telling you pointers but really you're the one in the ring. You're the one that gets final say, does that make sense Y/n?” You nodded your head “Great. So if you want to do something I didn't tell you to, that's totally okay. And I'm not going to be choreographing your entire fight. This isn't a dance routine. Just tips, does that make sense?”

“Mhm, yea. Keep going,”

“Excellent. This is a one round kinda thing, just whoever taps out first loses. I've never really hosted my own boxing match so we're all learning today!”

You nodded. Getting hyped up.

“Alright. I'm gonna walk you out, you got this. I believe in you. Kick some sweet sweet Morgan Ass,”

“Deal,” You responded.

You walked out of the bathroom and into the ring, seeing Morgan taping up his fingers, and you mirrored his actions. Once your fingers were taped up you flexed them, and pulled on your boxing gloves.

“Ready?”

You looked over at JJ and winked “Ready as I'll ever be,”

You climbed into the ring, and into the corner across from Morgan who winked at you. You smiled smugly back and looked over at Spencer and Emily, blowing them a kissy face and a smile.

JJ called to start the match and you went over to Morgan, keeping your fists up and close to your face. You let Morgan take the first hit and you dodged it, going for a jab on his torso. You hit him and heard your “fans” cheering for you. You fought the urge to look over but in your distraction, Morgan got a cross punch on your torso. You felt the hit but with your adrenaline pumping, if anything, it got you more fired up. Morgan paired his cross punch with a jab. JJ kept yelling encouragement so you wouldn't let go but combined with her yelling, your fan club, and the blood rushing through your ears it all went in one ear and out the other

“An effective 1-2...” Flitted briefly in your mind. And your eyes went to his. Open face.. “Rookie mistake!”

He left his face unprepared for just a second too long and you took the hit. You threw a hook across his face and Morgan went down. Obviously not seeing just how vulnerable he left himself.

“Oh shit!” Emily yelled and you dropped your stance immediately.

“Morgan! Oh crap, Morgan Morgan Morgan!” You held your hands up to your face. Not to shield yourself, but out of shock (and maybe a little bit of pride) at your hit. “Morgan Morgan, Morgan I am so sorry! Oh my god are you okay?” You looked over at JJ who looked incredibly impressed and then over at Spencer and Emily. Who had definitely just passed a ten dollar bill between them.

“Doll face,” Your eyes snapped to Morgan “Y/n, I'm okay. That was a good hit, I didn't realize how good you were at boxing! And you swear you've never taken classes?”

You smiled. Glad that he was okay “I haven't-” a thought crossed your mind “Holy smokes did I win!”

A playful groan passed Morgan's lips. And JJ stepped into the ring to announce Morgan's defeat.

“Holy crap I won! I beat Derek Morgan SSA of the FBI in a boxing match!” You laughed out loud and JJ held up your hand in a proper victory stance. “Spencer! Emily! I won!”

Emily and Spencer both laughed and gave you a high five. You glanced over and saw Morgan pressing a still cool water bottle to the side of his face.

Morgan walked his way over to you and that was really when you felt bone dog tired. “Good job, kid,” He smiled and put his arm around your shoulder taking a look at the group “Can't believe a teenager rocked my shit..” he almost mumbled to himself.

-----

“Oh my chocolate thunder..!” You heard Penny yell. Once she saw Morgan’s face her shock was well written “Does it hurt?”

Penny went to fetch him a fresh bag of frozen peas, when you popped up. Already holding a steadily defrosting bag of frozen veggies.

“I actually think his ego is a lot more bruised than his eye. Hi penny. I hope you aren't too upset that I hurt Morgan..” you trailed off. Now worried that you were going to make her upset.

“Oh not at all, my little boxing champion! This nice tall glass of water can take a hit, I'm proud of you, y/n/n, really,” Penny smiled at you and took a reach for your veggies

You gave them to her with a smile and waved goodbye. Off to see how your Zio was doing.

“Passerotto!” Your Zio Rossi spotted you before you did and engulfed you in a hug. He pressed a kiss on to your forehead and smoothed a bit of your hair back against your head “I saw what you did to Morgan! I asked Emily if they got a video but they said they were so wrapped up in the atmosphere they weren't able to. But I think you can elaborate enough for us, no?”

You smile and shook your head “In all honesty, I barely even remember. I guess the adrenaline in it all really got a way from me,” What actually happened was you were way too embarrassed to go into detail about you clocking one of Hotch’s finest co workers in front of him “I bet Spencer could help you fill in the blanks!”

“You know, Y/n..” Hotch said “I didn't know you were able to pack such a punch. If it would be okay with your parents and Uncle here, I have a friend that runs a self defense clinic at the Academy if you'd like some more work. I think you'd be a nice fit,”

With Hotch being a man of few words (and even fewer emotions) his slight compliment filled you with pride. “Thank you, Hotch” you smiled at him “I didn't know I had it in me either! I'll ask my parents about the clinic, but I doubt I'd stay long enough here to be a valuable member. Maybe as a summer program!” You added

Zio Rossi's oven’s beeping cut you off short. He went to tend to his lasagna, your favorite, and waved you all to seat yourselves at the table. You found yourself sandwiched between Spencer and Emily at the circular dining table. Out of all the dining areas in your Zio Rossi's mansion, this was your favorite for family meals. You were able to really look at one another. With your company next to you, you felt a little short and maneuvered yourself so you were sitting on your legs. Giving yourself an extra few inches of height that made you look a lot more sophisticated if you do say so yourself (which you did). Spencer glanced at your wiggling and wrote you a note in the little journal he always kept with him.

“I used to do the same thing,” it read and you looked at him and smiled as he winked.

Almost like magic Zio Rossi appeared holding a very large dish with a gorgeous lasagna in it. You were passed the salad bowl and filled your plate with it. Careful not to let it touch with your other side dishes. You took a sip of lemonade from your wine glass that matched Spencer's. Spencer didn't drink and neither did you. (Although often you would steal a sip of your Zio’s glass “as long as you don't tell your parents,”)

“So Morgan..” your Zio Rossi started once everyone's food was dished out “How does it feel to get.. pardon me if I phrase this wrong, but, absolutely served by my nipote?”

The table erupted with laughter and you found yourself again beaming with pride.

“Hey I gotta say, the kids got potential.” Morgan smiled and held out his glass to you “To Y/n!”

“To Y/n!” The rest of the table cheered.

-----

Translation Index and Author's Note

Hey! Thank you soooo much for reading! I'm really proud of this, and I hope you guys like it! Always open for requests and critiques!

Zio - Uncle

Since the reader was probably brought up with some Italian, they refer to Rossi, their uncle, as Zio. Which is Italian for Uncle. While the rest of the team just calls him “your uncle Rossi” they understand Zio but never really fit right with them. It's yours and your Zio Rossi's little thing

Nipote - Niece/Nephew

Nipote is a gender neutral term for niece or nephew. It can be distinguished with further describing words (Ex. “Mia Bella nipote”, my beautiful niece or “Mio nipote” my nephew) it's like Spanish!

Passeretto - Little Sparrow

Passeretto is a name used by someone's “Guardian” when their younger influence is growing up and “spreading their wings” (like a Sparrow). I used this as Zio Rossi's affectionate nickname because the reader is learning/learned how to properly box.

Again, thank you so much for reading. It really means a lot! ¡Besitos!

~Romeo

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cloverhighfivewritestoo · 5 years

Text

Quarantine Roomies

👉 Read it on Ao3

This is @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover’s fault. She wrote Be Mine, this Quarantine (1.6k) and I continued it (hence the part 2). So if you want context, go read the other fic where Dean tries to sum up the courage to ask Cas to quarantine together. (also, I continued the fic, so there’s details from her fic that went into mine too)

But if you just want to start where Dean gets to Cas’ place, here we go.

college!AU, buddies to not-buddies, fluff, 2k

And so Dean had moved in with Cas for the quarantine. Cas had a second room with a futon, which he had made into a bed for Dean. “So here’s the room I have for you,” said Cas. “It’s not much, but…” Dean was just trying to breathe. He was here. In Cas’ apartment. He was going to sleep in the room right next to Cas’. “Do you think it’ll do?”, asked Cas. The bed could have been nailed to the wall vertically, Dean wouldn’t have cared. “It’s perfect, Cas. Thanks.” “OK then. Um, I cleared two drawers in the chest of drawers there – don’t try to open the other drawers, they’re gonna explode – and, um, the closet is pretty empty except some boxes.” “OK. Cool.” Dean and Cas looked at the room in silence. “Oh,” said Cas, “do you think you need a nightstand?” “What?” Cas didn’t wait for Dean to actually answer. He rummaged in the closet and produced a box that was high enough and big enough to serve as a nightstand. He turned to Dean and smiled. “All set!” Fuck. That smile. Dean was fucked. Cas shuffled on his feet, inching towards the door. “So, um, I’ll let you unpack your stuff.” “Oh, you can stay.” Cas sat on the futon with a smile. “Did you bring a lot?” Dean just wanted to sit next to Cas and hug him and kiss him, but he had to keep face. “Just what I need. You have a washing machine?” “In the basement.” “Alright.” Dean unpacked his bags and felt Cas’ eyes on him the whole time. Cas would even comment on the shirts Dean brought, pointing out that this or that shirt was a favourite of Dean’s or himself. For some reason, it made Dean happy. And Cas seemed happy too. It was a bit weird how he felt happy just unpacking and talking. Dean tried not to read too much into it.

After, they’d gone grocery shopping, because Cas said Dean was the better cook so he should be there to choose what to buy. Cas declared he had quite the sweet tooth, and Dean promptly added a few cake box mixes to the cart. “That’s gonna be a lot of cakes though, Dean.” Dean winked. “Did you know you can make cookies out of cake mixes?” Cas’ eyes widened. “Funfetti cookies?” Dean smirked. “Any mix.” Dean smiled fondly as he watched Cas carefully choose three more boxes, two of which were funfetti. Dean added some multicolor nonpareils to the cart. “More fun for the funfetti.” Cas smiled wide. Dean wondered if he was completely red now. Dinner was frozen pizza, since Dean declared that coming back from groceries nobody wants to cook. But he baked a batch of funfetti cookies nonetheless, which they ate on the couch, watching a Mission: Impossible movie. Actually, Dean had two cookies, and Cas just kept on eating them slowly. At one point, Dean had to tell Cas to slow down. “Come on, buddy. You’ll be sick.” Cas had looked sadly at the cookies plate. “They’re just so good.” He’d taken another cookie very slowly, his eyes on Dean, as if he was worried he’d stop him. Dean just shook his head. “Hey, don’t come crying to me when you get a tummy ache.” “OK,” Cas said, shoving the cookie in his mouth. Fuck. Dean was so fucked. How will he last a whole quarantine with this adorable fucker without completely losing his mind? Cas got up. “I’m getting milk. Want milk?” “Nah I’m good.” He watched Cas go to the kitchen – hgnnn that ass – and then heard him shout back “Hey I’m not sleepy at all.” Dean shouted, “No shit.” “We could watch another movie.” “Alright.” Cas came back, took a big gulp standing in front of the couch, licked his lips – yeah, Dean was soooo fucked – set his glass on the coffee table, and flopped down next to Dean. And, Dean noticed, he was… quite closer this time. But Cas looked like nothing special was going on. So Dean started another movie. When the movie was done, Dean looked at Cas. “You still seem wide awake. That was a lot of cookies.” “No, it’s just my weird sleeping schedule.” “If you say so. I think I’m gonna head to bed though.” “Yeah me too. I’m gonna read a bit.” Dean knew he couldn’t sleep though. He was thinking about the afternoon, unpacking his things with Cas sitting on the bed and chatting him up, and going grocery shopping, how fun it was – how can it be fun? But it was. And then talking about their teachers over dinner, and then Cas’ face lighting up when the cookies were done and how he almost burnt his mouth trying to eat one right away… His head was dizzy with Cas smiling, and all the faces he made, and how painfully adorable he always was, on top of being goddamn hot, on top of being so easy to be with. Dean had left his door slightly open, closed enough so it looks like he has his privacy, but open enough so he can see if Cas walks around in the night, hopefully in his underwear. OH GOD. Why had Dean have to think about that? And so Dean was fixating a bit too much on the soft light reflecting in the hallway from Cas’ room – who, it seems, had left his door slightly open too – and his ears were picking up the sound of ruffling sheets as Cas changed positions to read, the page sliding against the other page as he turned it, the occasional hm or sigh in reaction to what he was reading. Dean felt a bit of air blow on his nose. It took him a few moments to realize it was morning and that he had dozed off to sleep – at what hour he had no idea, but he hadn’t seen Cas’ light turned off. He felt a bit of cool air again. He took a deep breath. He heard purr. Dean’s eyes shot open. The cat! He’d forgotten the cat! The cat was purring louder. “Hey buddy,” Dean whispered. The cat yawned and blinked. It purred some more. Dean realized his nose wasn’t itching. His eyes weren’t on fire. What? He was allergic to cats, he’d even brought medicine for an army – and forgotten to take any. “How come I’m not allergic to you?” Purr, purr. Dean took his time to wake up, even petted the cat on his head, which granted him more purring, which almost put Dean back to sleep. Eventually, he got up and just pulled on a pair of jeans, walking in the kitchen barefoot, no shirt on. He started to prepare some coffee. Dean heard Cas in his room make waking grunts as he stretched. He heard Cas say “Hey Jack, you sleep well?” Damn, Dean could hear the cat purr from the kitchen. He heard Cas again, “Come on, let’s see if Dean is up.” Suddenly, Dean regretted not putting on a shirt. He felt very self-conscious. He didn’t have time to dwell on that for long: there was a loud clang behind him and a “OUCH SHIT”. He turned to see Cas wincing, holding a foot. A chair was on the floor. “You alright?” Cas breathed in sharply. “Yeah, yeah. Just banged into the chair.” “How did you do that?”, Dean said, and he saw Cas’ eyes glance over his chest and look away. “I dunno, clumsy I guess,” Cas said, as he picked up the chair and sat on it, rubbing his shin and his foot, looking pointedly down. Dean was in shock. Did Cas just check him out? He suddenly felt very naked. But going to put a shirt on now would seem too weird. Better play it cool. “I got coffee going.” “Thanks.” Dean walked around the table to Cas. “You’ll be alright?” Cas showed his leg. “Yeah. My ego’s probably more bruised.” “Alright.” Dean sat on the chair on the side, turning it slightly to face Cas. They both looked at Cas’ leg, while Cas was moving his foot to check what hurt and what was OK. The coffee was dripping in the background. “Cas, by the way… and this is weird… I think I’m not allergic to your cat.” “Jack? He’s hypoallergenic.” “But he’s got hair. He’s even quite fluffy.” “Still hypoallergenic.” “Uh. Nice. I don’t have to take meds then. Cool. Talk about a coincidence, you having an allergy-free cat.” Cas seemed to think about something. “I knew you were allergic.” “What?” Cas looked down. “When I got Jack. I knew. That’s why I went for this type of cat.” “What? Wait. You already had a cat when I met you. You got a new cat?” “No, it's the same cat.” Cas bit on his lip. “Actually, I got him two weeks after I saw you.” Dean’s heart was racing, but mostly he was confused. What was Cas saying? “I don’t follow. This cat is clearly older than we’ve been friends.” Cas looked at his hands. “I saw you before you saw me.” “What? When?” “Last year. You were arguing with someone about their cat. And I’d just moved in, and I wanted a cat. I thought if one day I’m lucky, maybe this guy will come to my place, you know, be my friend, and I don’t want to kill him, so, I got a hypoallergenic cat.” “Last year.” “Yeah.” Dean thought he was dreaming or something. Did Cas just tell him he had a crush on him since last year? No. He said ‘friend’. He couldn’t help but repeat what Cas had said. “You got that cat because of me, last year.” “Yeah.” Dean was stunned. He didn’t know what to say. Could it be… ? No. But… ? Cas glanced at Dean, who wasn’t moving, or, seemingly, even breathing. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.” Cas got up and went to his room. He closed the door. Dean listened to the coffee as it finished dripping, his gaze focused on Cas’ bedroom door. He tried to wrap his head around… all of it. The cat. The easy friendship. Cas texting him good morning every day. Him sending Cas stupid pics of his breakfast like it’s important. The long nights chatting. Cas asking him to come spend quarantine with him. And Cas so happy every time he got to stick around with him. Oh. Dean got up. He knocked lightly on Cas’ door. “Cas.” Cas’ voice came muffled. “No Dean it’s fine. I’m sorry I brought it up.” Dean insisted. “Cas, can I come in? Come on.” It took a moment before he heard a feeble “OK”. Dean opened the door. Cas was sitting on his bed, his arms around his legs, his head between his knees. Dean sat by Cas on the side of the bed. “Hey. I’m glad you told me.” Cas didn’t move. “Why? It’s all gonna be awkward, now.” Dean sat closer. “Cas, look at me.” Cas lifted his head. There were tears on his cheeks. Dean felt his heart sink and his breath catch in his throat. “Cas, oh my god, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Cas’ big, blue eyes were perplex. “Why?” “Because I’m stupid.” And as he said that, Dean took Cas’ face gently in his hands, and kissed him softly. Cas said, “Are you sure?” “Yes,” Dean said, as he kissed him again. Cas let go of his legs and passed his arms around Dean. The feel of Cas’ hands on his bare skin sent electricity through Dean. He kissed Cas harder, who kissed him back with impatience. Moments later, they came for air. Dean started laughing, Cas started laughing too. Dean said, “I’m glad we cleared that up on the first day. This is gonna make the quarantine so much better.” Cas looked at Dean with the biggest smile and kissed him. “So much.” In Stanford, Sam almost walked into a pole when he got a pic from his brother: Dean was all smiles, an arm around Cas, who was laughing, nudged in Dean’s neck. Of course, there was no text.

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#destiel #destiel fluff #destiel domestic fluff #domestic!fluff #friends to lovers #idiots in love #first kiss

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bethhxrmon · 4 years

Text

do flowers exist at night? -chapter seven

Chapter Seven: Hands Clean

Pairing: Steve Harrington x OC

Chapter Summary: After the initial shock of the events surrounding Halloween and the days after, Steve and Annie both start to realize they may be wrong about how to cope. Their friendship also manages to strengthen in the process

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of trauma, might be filler but I call it the beginnings of pining soooo

A/N: Hope you guys really liked this chapter because I thought it was a decent break from all that angst I lumped on pretty early into the fic. It would be fantastic if you guys could let me know your thoughts, I live for it! Anyways, you can find all the other chapters here!

~*~*~*~

Admittedly, Steve could have handled himself alone in the house long enough for Annie to go to school. However, when she pretended to be both her mom and his, he didn't stop her. Not until he was okay enough to drive.

How school would work was a question both of them asked. Steve's bruises were faded enough for Annie to try and cover them up with makeup. That was what she used almost too much of on the cut on her cheek. Sure, she could hide it with her hair, she already did that, but it wasn't enough for her. Nothing was really enough.

Being near Steve wasn't enough to stop her from reliving everything in her head. Besides, she eventually had to go back to her own house. It was safe and she was sure that Steve could use some alone time. Though, she couldn't stand the quiet of her house.

None of that stopped Steve from picking her up on a chilly Wednesday in November. Frost crunched under her boots instead of leaves. It was clear that nothing was going to stop time from passing. She wished it would pause just so she could catch up, but she wasn't sure that would be enough either.

Going back to school gave Annie the same twisted feeling in her gut as her first day. Maybe they found someone else to poke fun at or to joke with. She didn't have anything to defend herself with. Her switchblade was somewhere in the Byers’ house, but she hadn't asked anyone where it went.

"You ready?" Steve asked, looking at her.

Annie took a deep breath and nodded, "It's just school."

They both knew it was more than that. After a few days of hanging out, it became pretty clear when Annie decided to put on a front. Her back would straighten up a little bit too much and she would appear to tense up all over. It wasn't something Steve pointed out, and Annie assumed that he, of all people, would understand.

She could only imagine what seeing Nancy with another guy would be like for him. Though, a part of her wished that a broken heart was all she had to walk into. Seeing Billy was a reality she knew that she would just have to face. However, she tried to avoid it.

Since Steve was feeling better, she knew that she couldn't convince him to stay back. And maybe doing this with a friend would be easier for her. She wiped sweaty palms on her jeans before getting out of Steve's car.

It was going to be okay. That was what she kept telling herself on a loop. Just eight hours, seven if she took out lunch, and then she could go right back home. She could lose herself in a book or maybe try to catch up on some sleep she could never get enough of.

People stopped staring at Steve, and Annie wished that being shorter than him meant that she was safe too. Except it didn't. Nothing changed. There were stares boring into her as she walked to her first class. She didn't bother with her locker. That was something which obviously hadn't changed. Giving other students the satisfaction of walking up to it every day was the last thing she wanted to do.

There was a rumor going on about how Billy slept with her. It wasn't followed nearly as closely as everything with Steve a few days ago. Still, all of that led her to looking forward to lunch.

Sitting in the cafeteria was not an option. The first day back, they both sat in his car. They tried a few more places. By the end of the week, they were sitting in the auditorium. There was something about eating on a stage that calmed Annie a little and Steve was just glad it was empty.

"So what's going on there?" he asked, nodding at her copy of War and Peace.

Annie looked up at him, "Well... how do I explain this... there's this Pierre guy, and he kinda tied a bear to someone."

"What?!"

"In his defense, he was drunk?" she offered, laughing a bit.

Steve shook his head, "Didn't realize books like that were so interesting."

"You're kidding!"

"Every time I try the words don't really make sense or I get distracted by something else."

She nodded, "I get it. I mean, I'm sure you had a lot of other stuff going on."

"Not really. Come on, you lived in Seattle and New York. That's gotta be way more interesting. No wonder you didn't wanna talk to anyone," he chuckled.

"I didn't avoid everyone because I was trying to be pretentious. I gave up. There's a difference."

"What? How? You... you seemed pretty okay."

Annie sighed, "Well, you should've figured out I'm a fair actress by now. It wasn't like I had a say in whether or not I moved. I had to go with my mom or my dad, and well, my mom was the only decent option."

"Well, you can't say you don't have any friends now," Steve said, nudging her a bit.

Annie smiled a bit, "You've got me there."

"Could you read that part, though? With the bear?" he asked, "It just sounds like you're screwing with me."

She nodded, "Gladly, and I can tell you that I'm not screwing with you."

As Annie read the passage out loud, she couldn't help getting into it. Not wanting any of the details to seem boring, she tried her hardest to make all the characters sound different. Not that she would have needed to do that to keep Steve's attention. He looked at her so intently as she read. Of course, it wasn't anything she noticed since she was too caught up in what she was doing.

Lunch was the only real time Annie and Steve got a break from the school. Though, the only people who really cared about what they did were Tommy, Carol, and Billy. The perfect trio to constantly leave Annie feeling like she was going to vomit.

Annie had to stop carrying her books around in her hands. That was something she learned when her copy of War and Peace got snatched from her hands. Tommy didn't have the strength to rip apart the hardcover book, but she didn't want to take any chances either.

"So is it true you fucked Hargrove?" Tommy asked, cornering her in the hall when she was a bit slow to get out of the school.

"No, I think that was you," she said, trying to think of a quick getaway.

Steve sauntered up to both of them, "What's going on here?"

"Nothing, just having a chat with your psychobitch slut of a girlfriend," Tommy replied.

Steve nodded, "Right, I think you're done having a chat."

"No, I'm pretty sure I was just getting started," Tommy insisted, starting to get closer to Steve.

Annie was quick to move away from Tommy and grab Steve by the wrist, "You know what? I think we're done here."

She led Steve out of the school, promptly letting go of his jacket. Something told her that wouldn't be the last time they had to deal with something like that. It was the weekend again, though, and Annie was relieved that she hadn't completely fallen apart while at school. Getting through a full week sounded like it was out of the question.

However, that wasn't on either of their minds when they were sitting in Steve's room again that Saturday. She looked through his closet and sighed.

"Is it that bad?" Steve asked, sprawled across the bed.

Annie tossed a shirt to the side, "I just didn't know anyone could own this many polos. How were you so popular again?"

"Hey! It's because I'm good with the ladies, duh," he said, "What're we listening to right now?"

She found yet another polo and turned to face him, "West Side Story, the most heartbreaking musical I've ever heard in my life."

"I don't get it."

"Well it'd make more sense if we watched it. They're meant to be watched, but I don't have it and Family Video had it rented out already," she tossed aside the eighth polo, "I don’t get why you have so many polos."

He shrugged, "My mom told me they looked good on me and Nancy never minded."

"Well... I don't mind it, just... have you ever thought about what you like?"

"A little? No one really asks me, though."

Annie sat on the edge of the bed, "Do you like having all those polos?"

"Not really... I don't care, though. Same thing with the room," he shook his head, "Do you even know what you like?"

She thought a moment before speaking, "It took a while, but yeah. I don't have anything in my closet that I don't like."

That was a lie. What she wore that night with the demodogs was something she hated now. A part of her wanted to burn it, but she used to love that flannel. But now, it reminded her of everything so much. Mainly what happened with Billy. Shouldn't she have gotten over that by now? She didn't talk to anyone about it after she broke down that one time. A part of her wasn't sure if Steve even remembered.

As helpful as he had been that night and the day after, she knew he wasn't at his best. It was a relief that he was, for the most part, okay in the first place.

"How do you do that?"

She shrugged, "You try different stuff until you find what you like. And you'll know when you like something, trust me."

They stayed in silence for a little while, just listening as "America" played in the background. By all rights, Annie should have just been at her house. Her mom would be home tomorrow, but until then she didn't want to be alone in her house if she could help it. Though, she tried to stay the night at her own house.

Never mind how it had barely been a week and the only thing keeping her from losing it was that her cat would curl up in the middle of her bed with her. She didn't know how to go about talking about it. Though, if he wasn't going to comment on how she probably wasn't sleeping or eating much, then that was fine by her.

"So... what did happen with your parents, anyway?" he asked, "I mean, I get the cheating part, but my parents are still together and my dad’s not much better."

Annie stayed quiet for a few minutes as she tried to think about how to explain herself, "They tried making it work. We moved across the country so that could happen. My dad got a guy for a TA and everything. Still, they kept fighting and they wouldn't stop, and I was getting sick of it. I'm sure the neighbors were too, and I tried to get their attention. The only way I could do that was by talking about hurling myself off the roof of the apartment building."

"Shit... did you um... were you-"

"I didn't mean it, I was just frustrated," she said, thinking that was true, "But they agreed to go to family counseling. It just brought up all the problems my parents had and taught me that I was way more screwed up than I thought. We only went twice before my parents decided on the divorce."

Steve sat up, "That sounds awful."

"Yeah, it kinda was at the time... but my mom's doing the best she can and I appreciate that," she let out a long sigh.

He shook his head, "You shouldn't have had to do all that just for them to listen, though."

"Tell me about it."

"Hey, I know I'm not perfect, but you can talk to me about this stuff. Not that you have to tell me anything unless you really want to, but I just know that not talking about it ended up hurting Nancy a lot," he looked at his hands.

She nodded, "I know- but did it occur to you that I don't wanna talk about it? It's already bad enough just thinking about everything, talking about it? Forget it."

"Are you sure? I mean, I don't know what you're normally like since we kinda met a couple days before everything went to shit but," he sighed, thinking of the right words, "But you don't seem right."

"And maybe I'm not, but that's not your problem. That's mine. Let me deal with that on my own time. It's a lot easier to just make fun of how preppy you are."

"Hey!" he tossed a pillow at her.

Annie laughed, feeling the pillow hit her side, "What? I'm right!"

Really, talking about anything else was easier. It wasn't that she wanted to make Steve worry about her, but she couldn't help reacting to everything the way she did. Besides, Annie knew that he wasn't reacting the best to it either. Though, there was a lot more than just demodogs that he had to go through. Losing the girl he still seemed to love had to take a lot out of him.

On the outside, it probably looked like she simply stuck around out of pity or for some form of social protection. Maybe there was some truth in that, but she genuinely thought that Steve was fun to hang out with. He was funny and kinder than he gave himself credit for. Obviously there was a part of her that knew if she didn't stick around with at least someone, she would end up being more of a victim to ridicule than she already was.

All of that pissed her off more than she cared to admit. A part of her really did wish Billy Hargrove were dead. The way he would look at her made her want to run to the bathroom and throw up for hours. What if she had actually tried to cut his throat? No, they would be in a bigger mess than they were already. There was no need to add murder to the mix.

She wanted him dead in almost the same way she wanted her dad dead when she found out he was cheating on her mom. It wasn't something she actually wanted to happen. Death was so final yet uncertain. Saying that she wished that she wanted someone to still be alive but never come near her in any way, shape, or form was a bit long-winded and less catchy. That was more accurate to what she wanted.

"I know you don't like it when people touch you," Steve said, changing the subject back.

Annie shrugged, "Is that such a bad thing?"

"No, but... but you're really specific with it. I don't need to know why, I just need to know what you're okay with. We're friends, I need you to at least explain that."

"Um... I mean, I don't know totally, it depends," she paused, "Like, being snuck up on? That's a huge no-go, obviously. I mean, it's not that I hate touch or anything, I just- I prefer to be the one touching someone else. Or if it's, like, one of the kids, that I have a way to get out of it easily. It's mostly with people I'm uncomfortable with. Like you, at first, but it just- it depends, I'm not sure how else to tell you."

He nodded, "That's fine, I just don't wanna end up hurting you on accident or, like, one of the kids or something."

"Well, since you asked me something super personal... do you think you're getting over Nancy at all?" she asked, moving so she was criss-cross on the bed.

Steve frowned, "I guess? Seeing her and Jonathan together sucks a bit less every day. It's only been a week, though. And I'm not dumb, I know she's liked him for a while. I just didn't want to admit it to myself. After what I did last year when I saw them sitting together, I didn't wanna be the asshole jumping to conclusions again. I thought if she didn't love me that she would say it when she was sober. I put in so much effort for her and she didn't even care."

Neither of them brought up how obvious it was that Nancy and Jonathan probably did something when they were off getting some Murray Bauman guy to help them. Annie wasn't going to say anything if Steve wasn't. A part of her thought he knew, but she didn't want to hurt him even more if he hadn't put it together.

"You know she didn't leave you because you were a shitty boyfriend, right?"

"Now that's bullshit."

Annie tossed the pillow in her lap right at Steve's face, "No, you're gonna listen to me. The only one who's bullshit here is Nancy. If she didn't love you, then she should've said so. You were obviously a great boyfriend. You went to her dead best friend's parents' house when you didn't even know them. And you let her go, if you were a shitty boyfriend, you wouldn't have done any of those things."

"That's nice, but I called her a slut and I didn't even really like her much at first."

"If all that bothered her, she could have stayed broken up with you after everything a year ago," she pointed out, "You made up for all that. Not everyone does, and you obviously love her."

They both sat there, not saying anything. Instead, they both just let the music play in the background. Annie knew that she didn't have feelings for Steve. For all the bad luck she had with guys, they were too good of friends for her to mess that up. Because of that, she couldn't let him get over Nancy on his own. And she knew that for as moody as Steve would get at times, he would have told her if he didn't want her around.

Taglist (lmk if you wanna be on it!): @dungeons-and-demodogs @nxncywheeler @ilovebucketbarnes

#steve harrington #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington x oc #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things 3 #stranger things 2 #stranger things x original character #stranger things x oc #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff

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jurijurijurious · 4 years

Text

Walsibeth one shot

Soooo here’s that random one-shot ficlet I’ve been writing tonight instead of the actual fic. This fits in after the chapter of “Mea Culpa” I’m currently writing, of course, but it works as a one-shot; I don’t think I’ll include it, it’s an optional maybe extra? But maybe I’ll put it in there. I don’t know.

I haven’t done a thorough proof-read either because I should be in bed already and I have work tomorrow:

Elizabeth’s eyes moved across the folds of the heavy drapes surrounding her bed, moving across the dark recesses of one, over the lightened surface of the next, and then back into the deep dark of another. She heaved a deep sigh, groaned a little, and pressed her knuckles into her eyes. She had lain awake for hours now; sleep would not come and her mind buzzed, zipping through not only the day’s conversations and events, but back over the multiple strange and somewhat terrifying events of recent weeks. How she wished she could still those restless thoughts, that nagged and jeered and tormented her every waking hour. Her mind was a hive of malcontents that needed neither food nor rest, that dressed up and capered on a stage, playing back the day’s events before her mind’s eye until she was forced to tease out every error she might have made, every mistake, until she was misinterpreting every sigh, glance and hand gesture to the point of paranoia.

When would it all end? Had she always been like this? She could not recall.

Could she blame it on the child? That restless little thing that squirmed and writhed like an eel trapped within her body. The baby was making her chances at slumber ever more remote. Not only did its movements keep her awake, the novelty of feeling the child thrashing within had long ago lost its novelty; at present it only served to make her feel nauseous.

She thought that Francis’ unexpected visit earlier would have put her mind at ease, but that clearly had not alleviated her anxieties either. Appeased her desire, sated her proverbial appetite, but still left a gaping void, unanswered questions floating in a stagnant pool. Though his every visit stilled her heart, filled her with a transitory reassurance, as ever when she was left alone she wondered at her own naivety - for hadn’t he said right at the start, and had she not constantly reminded herself, that here was a man who could appear to love anyone? How could she ever know the secrets of his heart?

And yet she had to have faith in something. There must be some constant, some bastion of honour within the labyrinth of his psyche, a vestige of that mysterious manifestation with which she had fallen incoherently in love with; and which she knew in return had fallen absolutely in love with her too.

She raised her knees and curled her body on on itself as far as it was possible, hugging her belly, and scrunching her eyes tightly shut, stifling another groan - whether this was at the discomfort in her body, her inability to sleep, or the mired quandary in her mind, she did not know. All of a sudden, all she could see was that blasted bland mask of his face as he had left her at the door or her chambers, as she passed over the threshold into the care of her ladies, when she had asked him if he would stay the night. It was a long ride back to Barn Elms, or Seething Lane, wherever his chosen roost was for tonight; why should he not tarry?

His face had not moved, but if one looked close enough, into the black pits of his eyes, pupils dark as sloes, one could almost see the cogs and gears of that infernal mind turning and ticking, weighing up the probabilities, the risks, the necessities… No he had said, he could not stay. There was little in the way of human folly and spontaneity contained therein.

Or so she thought.

She heard the click of the chamber door and the bubble of her deep thought was burst. The feet on the floor were light, quick: Cat Ashley. She knew the rhythm of her friend’s gait like a well beloved song.

There was a shuffle at the drapery, a light tough of her arm to see if she was awake. She angled her head up, brow furrowed, blinking once, twice in the pale light that now trickled through the gap in the bed curtains from the small candle in Cat’s hand.

There were no words, just an exchange of glances. Cat was smiling, though it didn’t quite fill her eyes; she looked a little fretful, as if she felt that she was going against her better judgement, but at the same time she knew that she had simultaneously allowed so many slips in responsibility, and was growing so foolishly accustomed to the status quo, that she was ready to just let it all pass…

Thus it was no surprise that there, behind her, materialising out of the dark like a wraith, was Walsingham. When the candle light touched first his eyes, reflecting through the gloom at her like a couple of smouldering coals in a hearth, she felt her heart jump and her spirit begin to rise again.

Cat swallowed a sigh, turned to look at Francis, then back at her beloved Elizabeth. Maybe Cat did not approve of this, yet if the presence of this devil of a man was what would gift her Queen with rest and a transient sense of comfort, then who was she to withhold it? It spoke some volume to her that he had come back and trusted this little rendezvous to her. He would not have done this just a few months ago; but they were too far past the point of pretending nothing was happening between him and his monarch any more. If he had not Mrs Ashley’s trust, her soul, then none of them had any hope of succeeding in the uneasy enterprise that lay ahead.

Cat bowed herself out with a slow nod of her head, holding Elizabeth’s eyes for perhaps longer than was necessary - maybe so she could savour the overflowing sense of gladness and utter surprise that now filled her Queen’s gaze. When the door to the chamber clicked again lightly, gently, and the candle was gone too, there was just the Queen and her servant alone once more.

“You came back,” Elizabeth whispered, caught uneasily between feelings of apprehension and mitigation.

Francis smiled and shrugged his square shoulders at the same time. “Aye, madam,” he said.

“I could not sleep,” she said,

He nodded slowly as if to say ‘That is clear. You are still awake and it is very late’. And he then began to undress.

She watched him, not hungrily, just inquisitively. It occurred to her that there had never been any normality between them as an illicit couple, that there couldn’t be. She could not wake up next to him, break her fast with him, take a casual stroll with him, without there being either some business of state attached, or, at the other end of the scale, without it being a heady, lust-driven tryst.

When he climbed in next to her, calm, naked, unadorned, she remained sat up and looking him in the face. He looked back, his eyes making their customary quick little studies of her person, checking her every curve, line and angle.

“What are you doing here, Francis?” she asked so quietly, she was amazed he heard; wondered why she feared the question.

His hand cupped her chin, thumb stroked her skin, and he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her brow. “Because my lady needs me,” he murmured against her brow. “Now… sleep.”

She took his hand from her jawline, kissed the palm, then lay back down. It was strange how much more comfortable the bed felt now he was here, how sleep suddenly beckoned, and how soothing it was to have him here for no other reason than he wanted to be here; could there have been any other more irrefutable, unspoken testimony to his devotion?

And thus she felt safe enough to do that which she would not advocate anyone to do in daily life, and that was to turn her back on Walsingham; but it was not a slight, it was an invitation. As her swollen belly made sleep awkward, she found that she could only find any measure of comfort by laying on her side, curling herself around the pivoting point that was the bulge of her growing child. And in turn, as she settled, he in turn curled around her from behind, his head beside hers, his chest to her back, his pelvis to her buttocks. She could feel his steady breaths on her nape, his even heart beats against her body. And as his arm came over her and gently held her, she felt a small sense of joy within her that she had not happened upon before; a sense of belonging and being cherished for herself and herself alone. Even if it was just for one night, even if the façade would shatter on the morrow, at least she had this, perhaps the smallest but most genuine gift he could ever give her.

Her hand sought his, their fingers interlaced, and the squeeze she applied said more than any words they could utter to one another. And at last, exhausted both, Morpheus found them at last and they slept.

Maybe I’ll draw this, it’s mindless fluff material...

Edit: Link to the ficlet on the Walsiebth LJ group if you wanna comment/follow over there.

#walsibeth #historical nonsense #mea culpa fanfic #elizabeth 1998 fanfic #elizabeth 1998 #fanfic #walsingham/elizabeth

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Elastic Heart - Part 3 (Branjie) - Mia Ugly

A/N: Soooo this chapter took a turn for the sad-bastardish, but I swear there will be less moodiness and more kissing in the future. Also I’m trying to use she/her pronouns in Drag Race, and he/him out of drag, but sometimes it all goes to hell, bear with me! Thanks to everyone who’s been so sweet about this fic so far.

Social media -

Is not Brock’s strength area.

Detox used to hassle him about it before he even went on Drag Race, and he made a promise to himself that he would do a better job after. Tell the world when he - ate a bowl of cereal or whatever.

Post photos of his cats at the very least.

So when his manager comes to him with the expectation that he and Jose play up their relationship for the fans, Brock says: (nonononononononononono)

He says “fine.”

Jose’s in, apparently, and - well, Brock can only take that information second-hand because the two of them haven’t really. Spoken. Recently.

He says “fine” and then he goes on Jose’s Instagram and almost has a panic attack (because some people are so pretty it is unfair, some people are basically built to break your heart - from atoms to molecules to cells.

Jose in sweats and snapbacks.

Vanessa in gloss and feathers.

Each one feels like a hand around Brock’s throat.)

So.

After about thirty minutes in the fetal position, Brock leaves it all in his manager’s hands (or whoever his manager is paying for social media these days.) Someone adds flirty comments and cute photos to anything Jose posts, someone keeps the fans happy.

Brock doesn’t need to see it.

It’s too soon (too much, too real) for him.

He tries to avoid Instagram; Twitter is about all he can handle (he knows his mom follows him and he doesn’t want to make her worry.) He doesn’t read any of the speculative articles about their relationship, but he is always extremely polite when he’s asked about it (just flirty enough to give the fans hope. Professional, friendly, not too fond. It’s a fine line, and he worries sometimes that his feelings rise a bit close to the surface. That the people who know him best are going to watch one of these interviews, peer through the ice at his blue skin and see everything.)

Friends keep texting him. Leaving him voicemails, asking him how he’s doing. Brock ignores the ones he can, and responds whenever anyone seems a bit too concerned. Gotta make sure the outside world stays outside.

Clearly it’s all going to come out by the time the finale airs, and that’s just something Brock will have to be ready for. Maybe he can do a European tour. Or an Antarctic one. They don’t have internet there, do they?

He’s wonderful, I love him, he says on ET Canada as if that doesn’t mean anything, as if it isn’t the first time he’s said ‘I love him’ out loud.

Brock keeps working (because he’s still a force of nature, even without a crown.) He does shows across the mid-West, hosts club nights, dances the house down because he is a queen, damn it. He goes on tour with the First Wives Fight Club, let’s Ginger Minj distract him with the most offensive jokes Brock’s ever heard (and it’s good to feel outrage rather than longing, for a change. It’s good to do something different, something that’s not related to Drag Race and soft-skinned Puerto Ricans who won’t answer his calls.)

Or probably won’t.

Because Brock hasn’t called.

It’s shady and pathetic and each day feels like pulling teeth out, but he’s trying to respect the boundaries Jose put up. They said their piece at the reunion before Brock died of blunt force trauma to the chest (it’s fine, he’s fine) and he’s not the kind of person to push someone to take him back.

To beg someone to want him.

He can’t say if it’s pride or fear that stops him every time he gets shit-faced and picks up his phone. He can’t count the number of texts he’s written and then deleted. And then re-written.

The night after the First Wives show in Vancouver, the other queens go out to whatever local club hasn’t been closed yet, and Brock goes for a run on the beach. It’s dark out, and after a couple of miles he stops, stretches, and sits cross-legged in the sand.

The ocean reaches out for him, black-fingered and impetuous, dotted with the twinkling lights of oil tankers.

Brock hasn’t had anything to drink. There’s really no excuse when he takes his phone out of his pocket, scrolls to Jose’s number.

His thumb hovers over the keys, thinking thinking (over-thinking).

(I’m on the West coast and I’m miserable without you and I want to hear you laugh again even if it’s at me even if it’s mean I want to hear your voice and you killed it on Jimmy Kimmel and I’m losing my mind I think you’re incredible I think you’re hilarious and brilliant and I miss you I miss youImiss -)

“Damn it,” Brock hisses, because he’s smarter than this. He’s stronger than this (he wants that to be true.)

“I’ll be at Drag Con,” he texts before he can think too much about it. “Hope i see u.”

He waits. He’ll probably delete it without sending. He should delete it without sending because Jose doesn’t want to talk to him.

His thumb sits on the ‘Send’ key, barely touching it. It’s such a pointless, empty message. It doesn’t say any of the things he wants to say.

This was easy once. Talking to Jose was like breathing. What the fuck happened? (He knows what happened, and he resists the urge to throw his phone into the sea.)

After a few seconds, Brock deletes the message and puts his phone down.

Then he picks it back up.

He bites the inside of his cheek, a habit he mostly gave up in middle school.

This was easy once.

(“When this is all over –“

“Oh Jesus, oh Mary, there she goes.” Vanjie at her station, rummaging through yards of tulle. “You wanna shack up or something? Get cats, turn me into a proper wifey?”

“Well. I was thinking more like buy you dinner.” Brooke doesn’t touch her, because the world is watching. Still - her eyes linger on the bones of Vanjie’s hands, her wrists, her jaw. There is not a part of her body that doesn’t beg for contact, not a part of her that Brooke doesn’t want to touch.

“Ha, okay. But I’m a classy ho. It’s gotta be Olive Garden at least, get me some unlimited breadsticks.”

There’s a faint blush on her cheekbones even though she’s rolling her eyes, and it makes Brooke love her even more than –

Shit.

She did not just think that word.

They aren’t - there yet. Brooke’s tired and stressed and her brain is clearly short-circuiting. It’s nothing. It’s fine.

“That shut you up, hey? Olive Garden too bougie for you? Don’t worry, girl– when this is all over and I’m a honey-thousand dollars richer, I’ll take you anywhere you want.”)

He should have known then.

Stopped it all in its tracks before it got totally out of control. But he didn’t.

Brock lies back against the sand, breathes in the copper-sweet taste of the ocean.

(That’s a star, right?)

The waves roll in, and he can almost see stars.

* * *

Back in her hotel room, she’s running over choreography for Tuckpantistan in her head, counting under her breath (one and two and three and -) when a noise distracts her.

A papery scratching at her hotel-room door. When Brooke goes to investigate, she sees a folded note that’s been slid underneath it.

U up?

Then below it: Haha, JK. Got a PA to deliver this, some real high school shit. Thinking bout your pretty face. <3 <3 <3

It’s signed Papi and Brooke turns rose-petal pink with embarrassment and pleasure. Fuck, she wishes she had her phone. Wishes she could FaceTime Vanjie any time she wanted, see her all bleary-eyed and soft and sleepy. Just the thought of that image makes Brooke’s heart clench painfully, and she tries not to think about why.

Instead she takes out the notepad from the desk in the hotel room.

How do I know this is really you and not just a producer fucking with me?

She folds the paper into a flat square and writes Return to Sender on the front of it, before sliding it under her hotel room door.

Then she immediately feels like an idiot.

This is ridiculous. They aren’t teenagers.

Brooke goes back to rehearsing for tomorrow, and tells herself there isn’t a stupid smile on her face. That would just be too undignified.

About fifteen minutes later (not that Brooke was counting or paying attention or anything) she hears that same scratching sound, and goes back to the door. A new piece of paper has been slid underneath it, and Brooke bites down on a grin.

You want a ring or some shit?

Thought you’d like that, something only the real MISS VANESSA VANJIE MATEO would know. This PA’s real nice, I’ma take advantage of her. UNLESS SHE’S READING THIS.

What you wearing?

Brooke snorts out a laugh (then covers her face and pretend that sound didn’t just come out of her.) She sketches out a quick, terribly unsexy picture of herself (basically a beefy stickman in pajama pants and a t-shirt) then folds it up and sticks it back under the door. This is the most bizarre flirtation she has ever taken part in, and - and she shouldn’t enjoy it as much as she does.

Vanjie’s reply includes a decidedly more X-rated stickman.

I better get some nudes next. Gotta occupy my time somehow besides missing on you.

Brooke laughs at the thought of the horrified PA that could be reading this.

You’ve seen it all in the werkroom anyway, she writes, And you could occupy your time with sleeping, maybe?

Brooke sends the note off, and gives up the ghost of rehearsing for a minute. She stretches out on her bed, arms against the headboard and bare feet nearly hanging off the end. Story of her life, really. She’s always felt like she’s too big, too tall, too much. Compared to Vanessa, she’s like some sort of beast, stumbling around crushing beautiful, delicate things beneath her feet.

Vanessa is beautiful. Brooke wouldn’t call her ‘delicate’ though, not by a long shot. She knows Vanjie well enough by now to know that she can hold her own.

(She wonders how much of that attitude is for the show. What Vanjie’s like when she’s all alone. Every so often there’s a moment where it seems like the other queen is letting her guard down, softening the sideways grin and adorable swagger that Brooke sees when the cameras are rolling.

How much of that is protective, Brooke wonders. How much of that swagger is self-defense?

How much of that humor is about survival.)

There is a reply not even ten minutes later: Nah girl, you’re keeping me up. Gonna think about you in those overalls all night, haha. When I can’t do shit tomorrow I’ll be blaming your fine self for messing with my head.

Brooke folds and unfolds Vanjie’s reply too many times, unwilling to put it down. She’s glad she can’t see herself, knows that she’s probably glowing with affection. She’s got a crush, right, just like she told them in the confessional. That’s what this is. Just a massive, ridiculous crush.

An impossible, stupid, hopeless crush.

I take no responsibility for that.

But also your angel costume is the real problem here, how am I supposed to get anything done?

Go to sleep and dream about my overalls, Miss Vaaaaanjie.

Brooke has had crushes before. She’s always survived them.

When she slides her note back under the door she thinks that will be the end of it, but a reply comes later, clock nearing midnight and shadows sliding like fingers through the blinds.

Sweet dreams Brooky Poo.

Brooke holds the note against her chest, and laughs, and when she falls asleep she’s still smiling. Her dreams are full of white feathers, falling gently as snow from the ceiling of her hotel room. Settling soft as a promise against Brooke’s open mouth.

#rpdr fanfiction #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #branjie #angst #canon #canon adjacent #elastic heart #mia ugly #concrit welcome #submission #on set fic #s11

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eternaldipshit · 5 years

Text

chap 5 aside

okay so i just posted chapter five and idk how much i wanna address of what i’m feeling when no one even follows this blog but i want to get it all out before i forget

it’ll probably be reiterated in the next chapter notes if i remember but omfg i really showed my age by having to google ‘chef’s kiss’ after two people used it in comments like omfg i thought it was like a reference to another piece of media? that i was somehow unwittingly ripping off?? and then i saw what it actually was and i, for the first time, felt like an Actual Fucking Boomer

not that i’m THAT old but holy shit. i am so out of the loop these days.

anyway the comments i’m getting are soooo fucking nice and i kind of want to respond to them but i’m so awkward and just really not into the whole socializing thing right now for reasons so just know that i’m reading and using them all as encouragement whenever i feel down on myself about this actual dumpster fire of a fic

so let’s see what else i wanna say about tubtuh before i forget uhh

so originally the plan was haha jk there was no plan but originally i had dave completely disenchanted with bro like just. idk. i was looking at it black and white, but after having a conversation with my father (who was psychologically abused as a child) i realized that this shit is A LOT more complicated. well to be fair to me i always knew dave’s relationship with bro was complicated af but i wasn’t giving it the proper depth that it should have. i think even after dave recognizes that he’s been abused and fully acknowledges it, he’ll still love his bro on some level. this is the guy he looked up to massively after all, who raised him, and who dave tried to emulate for a long ass time (though that might have been partially out of fear?). idk if i’ll ever do this complicated dynamic justice but i’m trying to make it as in-character as poss and i’m worried i’m fucking it up idk ughughugh

that wasn’t very coherent but moving on

i’m not good at writing dirk not only because he’s a hundred times smarter than me, but also because his character wasn’t as fleshed out as dave’s was (at least in my opinion) and part of the reason i was so excited about the epilogues was bc i wanted to see more of dirk finally after all these fucking years!!! and then the epilogues shot that hope in the head and shat on its corpse so i tossed that whole experience into an incinerator and tried my best with what was given before that.

granted, some of his character was influenced by what all i read in that horrid piece of garbage - see: his breakdown in that last chapter. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again - my take on epilogue dirk was that his enhanced prince of heart powers exacerbated his underlying issues with megalomania and his need to be in control. i don’t consider it out of the realm of possibility. even if i fucking loathed it to hell and back, it can be justified.

i also see it as a flaming pile of horseshit tho, so there’s that. if you want to see my unfiltered thoughts on the epilogue, i’m pretty sure it’s the first post i ever made on this blog lmao fuck the epilogues.

uhhhhh another thing i’m worried about is... pretty much all the beta kids lmao. i don’t think i have any of their voices right. also don’t wanna spoil anything but i really... never shipped dirk/jake with the exception of when it was first introduced and i was actively thrilled for an actual gay couple in a piece of popular media (which was a way bigger deal back then than it is now) and then things progressed and i just... jake seems... aromantic to me? i don’t think he’s asexual, but he only ever entertained the idea of romance when he felt romantic intentions directed at him. also, in his relationship with dirk (what little we saw of it anyway), he didn’t seem super into dirk in like the romantic sense? idk. i mean i know dirk was overbearing af but jake’s heart just didn’t seem in it and after that i’m pretty sure he’s like ‘i think i’m not meant for romantic relationships’ but i’m too lazy to check.

and i know that’s going to be a point of contention bc a LOT of people ship jake/dirk. and that’s fine, i’m obvs not against people shipping it, i just don’t think i would ever succeed in writing a dynamic that i can’t fully get behind? but we’ll see.

also? jane got done fucking DIRTY in the epilogues. her and jade were both characters that i initially despised mostly bc i had this thing before college where i hated other women for no reason if they were too girly and heyo now i’m fucking gay.

anyway i love jane and jade now and jade also got done dirty in the epilogues (budum TSSS sorry) and i intend to ignore the epilogues espesh with those two bc again, fuck the epilogues.

and the LAST point i will make in this already egregiously long post is that i have no idea how long i’m going to write this story, if i’m ever going to finish it, or even the direction it’s going. the end goal, though, is a happy ending. because these kids have been through hell and they deserve it.

i lied. the last point i will make: fuck the fucking epilogues.

#tubtuh asides

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srawesleyghuewrites · 5 years

Text

Always - Part Three

Series: Always(Part One, Part Two)

For desktop users: masterlist

For mobile users: mobile masterlist

Pairing: Damien x MC(Catherine Park), in which she also dates Hayden and Sloane

Book: Perfect Match

Word Count: ~ 2,000

Rating: M for language

Author’s Note:

SOOOO

After so long I’ve come back to writing the rest of this little fic with the missing parts from Perfect Match, and maybe it’s bc it ended and i miss my babies but i simply loved going back to writing them again!

The last part(part four) will be posted soon and then I’ll go back to missing my crew like hell *crying*

I don’t know very well who to tag so I’m just gonna throw some of my favorite people here and hope they like it: (feel free to let me know if you don’t want to be tagged or if you do haha):

@pukichun , @eileendannie , @drakewalkerstan , @walkersdrake , @tacohead13 , @minion-on-board , @simmerbychoices , @damienazariostan , @goingbackwardsfromdeath , @countrymusicandncis-blog , @lovelanique , @princess-andromeda-nazario , @the-everlasting-dream

Disclaimer: The characters don’t belong to me I just borrow them from Pixelberry!

I know there’s nothing left to cling to

“And why does this feel like drowning?

Trouble sleeping

Restless dreaming”

The ride back to the apartment is a thousand times lighter than before, since now nobody has unfinished words threatening to get out. But the melancholy in Catherine’s brown eyes, that every few seconds turn away from the road to him, just to make sure her Damien is still safe, is the same.

Damien notices how calmer she’s and there’s a smile on his face because he was able to help the woman he loves. Plus, he also can’t help the soft gaze at her, staring them even longer to see her giggling and then arguing that this will cause an accident.

“It’s worth it. To look at you, the real you, that I can actually touch, ” He touches her cheek with his thumb for a brief moment. “it’s all worth it.”

“Oh yeah, using a car accident that could cause the death of us both to sweep me off my feet, how romantic…”

She rolls her eyes but then the turns to the window, not being able to suppress the smirk on her lips, the one Damien catches in a glimpse from the rearview mirror. There’s nothing more like them than teasing each other. So Catherine’s comment makes both of them let out a big gasp of relief, like they are finally themselves again, together and safe after all. Just the two of them…

But not for long, the second they get out of the car there’s two giggling - drunk -, familiar figures holding beer cups next to their apartment building.

“YOU are BACK!”

Sloane throws her arms around Catherine’s neck when she approaches them. Damien following close behind and trying to repress a laugh. She gives her girlfriend a peck on the lips and holds her by the waist to prevent her from falling. Sloane’s clearly drunk and hums what seems to be a k-pop song while smiling widely for the three of them.

“She’s drunk. I wanted her to relax and then… things kinda got out of control…”

A very guilty, and totally sober Hayden, apologizes for letting their girl get drunk. At this moment Sloane tries to give Damien a hug and ends up almost hitting the ground in front of him, saved by his fast reflexes.

“Woah there, maybe you should try to stay in one still Sloane? I’m all done with hugs already, don’t worry.”

“You saved me!!! Oh Damien, you are so wonderful with Catherine and now you save me… really… you deserve a hug!”

It’s the blonde that holds her in place this time, passing her friend arms around her shoulders to keep her steady while they all turn to enter the building. She looks at Cath again, apologizing one more time and being dismissed by a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“Everything’s fine, we just have to make sure she has a cold shower, coffee and gets some sleep. No need to apologize, even though that’s not what I meant when we left and I said: have fun.”

“No, that’s what I meant.”

Damien interrupts as the elevator goes up and they both laugh. Sloane is quiet until they reach their floor, then she narrows her eyes and whispers to Catherine:

“WHere ArE wEEE????”

“Why are you whispering honey?”

“Because it’s dangerous, nobody can know that we are here!!!!!”

“Oh my god, you do need some taking care.”

Hayden sits her in the couch and goes straight to the kitchen make coffee, wanting to make herself useful and help her friend because she’s still pretty guilty. At least for once it’ll be her taking care of Sloane and not the other way around, the thought warms a little bit her heart.

“Where did… Hay…”

“She went to make some coffee for you.”

Catherine takes off her coat just by the time Damien closes the door behind him, then she sits next to her girlfriend and runs her hand gently on her back. Sloane holds her other hand, squeezing a bit strongly when she says:

“I don’t think I can drink any...thing. Cath, I-I don’t feel so good.”

Only then she realizes how pale she’s and that can only mean she’s about to throw up. So she helps her up and they make their way until the bathroom, but before they can get there Hayden intercepts them.

“I can take her, I think he’s waiting for you.”

She points with her head Damien standing next to the couch where they were sitting a moment ago, his eyes tell her that Hayden’s completely right so she nods to her before walking towards him.

“How’s she?”

“She needs some care, someone to hold her hair and someone, which in this case will be me, with the courage to give her a cold shower. So you can go to bed, you need rest after everything.”

“Can I help?”

“No, we’ve got this. Your…” Dames’s room. “ room is just the second down the hall.”

She struggles to say the words, Dames memories still so very fresh in her mind. The guilt stained in every word. Catherine tries to deflect the subject by giving him a goodnight kiss, tender and long on those lips she missed so badly.

“Goodnight D.”

“Goodnight Cath.”

“I know there's nothing left to cling to

But I'm still calling out your name

You're in my head

Always, always, always”

“Always, always, always”

About two hours later Sloane was finally feeling better, already cleaned up and stocked with hangover supplies in her comfy bed. Hayden lies down next to her, turning on the tv and putting on one of her favorite Netflix documentaries. She even asks Cath to join them, who politely declines. She can’t spend the night with them when her thoughts are on the man next door, and the man who’s probably trapped in an Eros cell.

“Are you sure you’re feeling better?”

“Yes… I think”

“Don’t worry, I got her.”

Hayden assures her and Catherine kisses both of her girlfriends goodnight, giving Sloane a special kiss on the forehead and saying for her to take care. After making sure they’re alright, Catherine leaves the room, closing the door behind her with a huge relief sigh before going to the kitchen get some water.

Damien is still sitting on the couch, sleeping. And she can’t help the warmth that fills her whole body when she realizes he’s been waiting for her. Cath passes her hand through his hair in a loving movement, making his eyelids flutter open fastly and his eyes soften as they recognize her.

“You waited for me.”

“For the longest time and I don’t regret a second of it.”

He isn’t talking about tonight and she damn well knows it, Damien is telling her once again how worth it was waiting those years for them to be together. And mainly, he’s making sure she knows he’ll always wait for her, no matter what.

“I…”

Love you. That’s how she wanted to end the sentence, in this private moment between them when he’s exposing his feelings for her in such a pure way that made her heart swell but something stopped her: the door of Sloane’s bedroom opening.

It happens to be just Hayden going to get some water on the kitchen, she says goodnight to both of them and goes back to the room, leaving Cath with no courage to say those words. She feels a shiver down her spine and remembers her shirt is still pretty wet from Sloane’s shower.

“I’m gonna shower, do you wanna come?”

Damien simply stares at her with that cute little provocative way. So she adds:

“I promise I’ll behave.”

“I think you already promised me this today.”

“And did I missbehaved? I don’t think so.”

She says while already dragging him to her room, the only one with a big bathtub, which doesn’t take more than four minutes to be full and ready for them to shower. Damien stands in the door, an insecure look on his face because he’s not sure for how much of intimacy and contact he’s ready for yet. And he would hate himself for denying or disappointing her. As if she’s reading his mind, or better, his features, Catherine holds him by the waist gently and says:

“You can shower alone if you want, I’ll use the other bathroom. But I promise you that I just wanna be close to you and yes pamper you a little bit, for once you finally deserve.”

“Finally huh?”

“I can still change my mind you know?!”

Their teasing eases some of his worries and the way she’s touching him with all the caution in the world takes the rest away. She presses her lips to his for a long time, and then slowly backs away from him to start undressing.

He hasn’t seen her naked in so long and worse, she hasn’t seen him naked in so long, his body has suffered a lot and some bruises are still visible so they might be uncomfortable for Cath. So he takes his long time undressing, trying to ease his breathing and focus that they’re both alright and together again, not that she won’t be seeing the strong sarcastic man he’s always been. Everything has changed and he is afraid some of those weren’t for the best. Damien’s been paying so much attention to the memories of how they used to be that he doesn’t notice Catherine until she’s fully naked in front of him, taking his hand on hers.

“What’s wrong?”

When he finally settles his eyes on her body it’s clear that the memories don’t do justice to how amazing she looks and feels in the present. He dismisses her question by denying with his head, then he smiles and finishes getting undressed without taking his eyes off of Catherine.

Twenty minutes later Damien puts her legs over his in order for her to be more comfy and she smirks. Coming back with a silly smile on her lips Catherine takes both of his souppy hands and interlaces their fingers slowly.

“It’s nicer than I expected.”

“You have no idea how hot water can be underrated”.

She lowers her gaze to their laced hands, thinking about how he stayed in that horrible place for so long without having the comfort that she had makes her head dizzy. But as soon as Damien gets a glimpse of it, he pulls her to him, motioning for her to turn her back to his chest so that he’ll embrace her from behind. They stay like this for awhile and the feeling of warmth and contact dissolves her worry into nothing.

“I wanted to know if your new hair has anything to deal with what happened?”

She stiffens beside him and it feels like he touched a nerve, however she nudges even closer to his body before continuing:

“I just… it was a week after we found out about Dames. I simply couldn’t stand to look at me in the mirror everyday and see the person that let all this happen to you. So Nadia took me to a hairdresser and I changed everything, because the only thing I actually wanted to change wasn’t possible at the time. And now I guess it makes sense since we both changed.”

Cath nudges to his recent stubble with a sexy smile, when she thought he couldn’t look hotter, he managed to it. However Damien shrinks from her comment and whispers in her ear:

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I’m too tired to shave today but don’t worry, tomorrow I’ll do it.”

“No need. I like it… a lot.”

There’s such passion and true in her words that Damien can’t help but to kiss her nape, neck, ear and cheek. Every place his lips can reach with her back to him as his arms tighten around her.

“I like the new hair, when I thought you couldn’t look more beautiful hot that with the long hair… you go ahead and cut it short… and it just suits you, it’s amazing.”

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie about hair!”

He speaks as if she offended him deeply and she rolls her eyes.

“But truly, you look even sexier now Catherine. And I was pretty sure that wasn’t possible.”

Catherine takes a breath, his words sinking into her brain as a peaceful melody. She relaxes into his arms and smiles, wanting to stay like this forever.

To be continued...

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austenpoppy · 6 years

Text

When fanfiction begins to be worrying

Warning : Ron-lovers, if you read this it is at your own peril. I am already suffering from long-lasting damage. Vivi, don't read. Really. Don't. Trust me.

We won't even talk about incest and other criminal and sickening fanfictions, which are mostly rejected by the fandom with the utmost disgust - fortunately.

No, no, what I'm going to talk about is admired by a - sadly - large part of the fandom. I was just looking for a cool fanfiction about Ron during my break when I found this, on the first page : "101 ways to kill Ron Weasley."

I know, I shouldn't have clicked on the link, but I couldn't help myself. I had to know.

This is the Author's note :

"This story is inspired by Crys' 1001 Deaths of Lord Voldemort on

For many of us, we hate one character in canon more than any other. No, not Lord Voldemort. I am, of course, talking about Ron Weasley.

Ron is lazy, stupid, annoying, and, in my opinion, mentally retarded.

Now, many in the fanfiction community hate Ginny much more than Ron; however, I find that to be more based upon their experiences with fanfiction than Ginny's actual roll in canon. Let's all be honest, outside of CoS and a cameo in OoTP, Ginny has very few lines and almost no involvement in the plot while Ron plays the role of a giant douchebag throughout the books.

This story, which I hope people will enjoy, is my way of killing off the dumbass in as many colorful ways as possible.

In case you can't tell, expect major Ron!Bashing."

...

I should have stopped as soon as I read this. I didn't, pushed by a morbid curiosity : I wanted to know how far people were ready to go. Useless to say that I bitterly regret it.

First, notice here that Voldemort and Ron are the only characters that I know of who have entire fanfics dedicated to kill them.

Voldemort and Ron are put on the same level. A teenager, the best friend of the hero and a hero himself, is compared to a psychopath and a murderer.

Moreover, I have to underline that the author judges Ron as "mentally retarded". I find it worrying. Just because a teenager have not the same grades as the best student in his year, just because he does not display the same way of thinking as his clever best friend does not mean he is stupid. Far from that.

That is a judgement on intelligence that I think is horrible. You have to know that intelligence, despite what tests such as IQ's claim, can not be really measured. It depends on so many factors. The results of IQ tests depend themselves on so many factors.

Furthermore, having real problems to understand things should be seen as a disability, a handicap and not an insult. It is a very difficult situation to deal with.

Also notice that the intellect is one the major criteria differencing the characters for those people. Intellect is practically above everything else.

I read the fanfiction, constituted of two chapters and multiple drabbles.

First reaction :

First one : Ron dies from eating too much. He chokes on his food.

Second one : In first year, wanting to prove a point to Hermione, Ron willingly mispronunces a spell and conjures a buffalo which crushes him

Third one : In Deathly Hallows, Ron takes the locket with him when he leaves. Harry and Hermione try to stop him and splinch him (he is split in two), but they don't recover the Horcrux. Last sentence : "Even in death, Ron Weasley found a way to be a pain in the ass."

Fourth one : Ron, charged by Harry to give Hedwig her treats, eats them in front of her. Hedwig, with the help of thousands other owls, avenges herself by attacking and killing Ron. Reminding of "The birds" by Hitchcock.

Fifth one : Ron, jealous, accuses Hermione of loving Harry and calls her "a Mudblood". She kills him. Harry and her hide Ron's body before they have sex. Petty remark about the length of Harry and Ron's manhoods. Note of the "author" explaining that it was a summary of another fic.

Sixth one : the Trio enters Bellatrix's vault. Ron is immediately fascinated by the amount of money and begins to steal it despite his friends' warnings. He burts into flames and jinxes his friends. Particularly petty sentence : "He never knew, or cared, that his greed had doomed them as well."

Seventh one : Ron speaks proudly about the unbreakable vow he made when he was five. Hermione asks him what it was about, he says he had sworn he would never say he wasn't a jobbernowl, he dies. Worst thing : use of a real passage of the book.

Eighth one : Ron dies on the chess set. His sacrifice is presented as stupid because it 'had to be another way.'

Nine : Harry uses Sectumsempra on Ron while he is sleeping. Ron dies. Harry transforms his corpse into a sock and burns it.

Last one : after Ron is made prefect, Hermione refuses to have him as a partner, jinxes him and kills him "for the greater good." Particularly nasty sentences : "Harry looked at the badge and fought the urge to go downstairs and ask McGonagall and Dumbledore if they were high when they selected the male Gryffindor prefect this year." / "'Sure', Ron said, completely shocked. 'I was positive you would get it, Harry.' 'You and the rest of the world,' Harry thought darkly." / "I can already see Ron not taking his duties seriously and flaunting the privileges that prefects normally deserve."

I won't comment all of them, but I really want to say something about some of them.

The first one uses a trope overused in Ron-bashing fanfiction : the fact that Ron eats a lot and sometimes speaks with his mouth full. Obviously, the author has forgotten what it is to be a teenager, and especially a thin teenager. Their metabolism needs food, and loads of food, because they are growing up and thin people tend to burn off energy more rapidly.

The fourth makes me sick. (Not that they don't all make me want to throw up.) First since it uses the overused trope I have already mentioned. Moreover for Ron would definitely do what Harry asks him to do, and for Ron is definitely not cruel. And thirdly because... THE BIRDS ! Does it ring a bell, a physical assault on Ron with birds ?

The fifth one. There is absolutely no universe where Ron, I'm-going-to-kill-Malefoy-with-my-bare-hands!Ron, would call Hermione a Mudblood. No. Way.

The sixth. Just because Ron said once something like "It would be nice to have galleons for a change", once "I hate being poor" (ONCE !!!), "Lucky you" (referring to Harry not noticing the difference on his amount of gold when the fake money disappeared), "Where's mine ?" (asking Bill where his money was because Bill has just given Harry a purse full of gold), that's it, Ron is greedy. Just because he doesn't want to be in need. Although he never complained that much.

These people hating Ron for he does not like to be poor are just self-righteous and have very probably never lived in the same situation. They have never been homeless, have received all the gifts for Christmas they wanted, have lived in a warm and comfortable house. It's easy to think about morals when your stomach is full, your health is perfect and well taken care of, and your basical material needs are fulfilled.

I remember a story my dance teacher told me : there was a poor woman in Africa who had lost a husband, a son and a leg in a war and still considered herself luckier than a French homeless person because she had a roof above her head.

I'm not saying that losting a loved one is less terrible. Nothing is more terrible.

Just that hating a fourteen-years old boy who never received another Christmas gift than a maroon jumper he hates but still puts on without really complaining because his mother made it, because he would like to have clothes that fit him or galleons he could spend to offer things to his friends is stupid. Really. And shows a lack of empathy.

Moreover, it's not as if Ron was not generous. All he has he shares it. His galleons, he mostly spends it on gifts for his friends. He gave his Christmas gifts to an house-elf. Ron has a really big, big heart and nothing is more important to him than his friends and family.

Eight. Just. How dares he / she ? That's what I hate with this fandom. Everything is twisted to correspond to the views of people.

Last. The prefect badge. My god the prefect badge. Maybe the most disgusting one, because Harry and Hermione are depicted as thinking the worst of him and somehow echo the 'No one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect'. The fact that Ron is often belittled by the fans who don't think he deserved the badge is reminiscent of the fact that Ron didn't either. Ron didn't think he deserved it. That makes me soooo angry.

Pansy Parkinson deserved her badge, but Ron ? Nooooo of course.

The question of worthiness in Ron-bashing is central. People operate a grading : some characters are better than others. The worst is to think that they do it in real life.

I am really naive. I thought that most readers would be inflamed by such display of stupidity. How wrong I was ! This story had 242 reviews, whose only 12 were critical. On the twelve crital ones, 4 were saying that Ron was just an ordinary teenager with no talent, but that it was a shame to dislike him for that.

The rest ?... At this point I don't know if I want to cry or burst into flames out of rage.

I have warned you before. I warn you again. Be aware of the violence of what will follow.

"More!

In order to get a good nights sleep, I need to read about Ron dying in horrendous and funny ways, due to his folly and vices."

At this point it looks like a caricature, doesn't it ? We can notice, however, that people vent out their frustrations and violence on fictional characters. It's up to you if it is good or not. I think it is sick to post it on the Internet, on a personal level.

"A note to a couple of Ron fanboys that posted. First, don' t like? Don' t read. You can tell it is a bashing story from the summary. Second; each person can interpret the canon events the way he wants. Personally, i see it like this: Ron betrayed and abandoned his supposed best friend when he needed help the most. Twice. And he never even apologised properly! It is not our best moments and actions that show us who we really are, but our worst ones. Because, usually, that is when one lets his true self show. Ron is not a bad person, but he is an idiot in canon."

It actually reflects a way of thinking. Ron is defined by the moment he felt betrayed and argued against his best friend - and he tried to apologize, though didn't make Harry apologize for hitting him - and the moment he left under mental torture - the first one who tells me Ron isn't strong-willed will have to run really fast from my anger, because Ron resisted possession and once rebelled against a thought mass murederer on a broken leg and they know nothing about torture -. For this kind of people, you can't have flaws. You can't be faulty. You have to be perfect. You can't ever be forgiven. This is unhealthy.

"*Insane laugh* I love this story! I've always hated Ron. *Sigh* If only he died in cannon, then my life would be complete!"

Once again I am amazed by the VIOLENCE of such a statement.

"I just love the first one where Ron dies while stuffing his face. I have often thought that he had either Bulima or a tapeworm. I have actually seen someone eat like him. It turned out that this person was Bulimic. How else does someone stuff himself and remain skinny?"

It displays a total lack of understanding of what eating disorders really are. Those are disorders which are really extremely difficult to deal with on a daily basis. They are mistaken here with bad eating manners.

"Are you in middle schoolers? Because that's how they teach you how to write in middle school. Also, Ron IS stupid. His grades show that. And Hermione is always caring and helping Harry, even when Ron is off sulking, jealous of Harry. And who cares if Ron came back after leaving? He still left! And getting his ass off of bed is not an excuse for Ron. He only goes along with Harry because he needs to! To keep being Harry's friend, that is. You're actually as mentally deficient as Ron is, and I hope you learn some proper fucking grammar."

Once again intelligence is confused with good grades. That's how you end up with teachers telling students who don't have good grades that they are too stupid to do anything of their life. Ron is here considered as an opportunist. As if he had chosen to be friends with Harry for fame -internal scream. As if being friends with Harry was easy. As if he had not commited his life to help his friends. Notice that once again someone is judges according to his so-called bad actions (to me, Ron leaving is not a mistake Ron did, as I said multiple times already).

"Oi weasel!, for the first and final time, there will never be an Hermione and you, so stop dreaming about her; she's way, out of your league, otherwise l will make you into an weasel patty..."

Love is seen as a question of worthiness.

"Can the Basilisk eat him? please please let the Basilisk eat him"

Once again the violence strucks me.

"ugh i hate him 2 he always runs away or gets jelous. The one thing he did was play stupid chess. Like geez. I love the owl 1".

Chess is considered stupid. CHESS IS CONSIDERED STUPID, BUT WRITING AN ENTIRE FANFIC TO KILL A FICTIONAL CHARACTER IS NOT. Those people are sickeningly judgemental and self-righteous.

"Thank you, I really needed a good laugh and nothing is more funny than Ron dying in horrific, nasty ways."

*throws up*

"Hilarious. Keep updating. I can't stand Ron. The flaws of Snape, Albus, Remus, Sirius and the rest makes them interesting characters. The flaws of Ron make him a putz."

Notice that Ron is the one character that apparently can't be forgiven for his flaws. Ever.

"Lol, Keep killing Ron, it's enjoyable. It's a good stress reliever to read these. :)

See ! Ron is nothing more than a punching ball to those people. I'm scared, really. Their immaturity is worrying.

"I agree with you about Ron he really is a good for nothing person in canon."

*sees red* That's what I'm fighting against in real life. People telling teenagers (and here one of the most admirable fictional teenagers I've ever seen) with a crippling lack of self-esteem that they are worthless. DON'T LISTEN TO THEM !

"this is so funny. i love the owl treats one. my favourite so far. anyone who dares say this is rubbish will face my anger, dont worry. just because it wont happen in canon dosent mean its not good."

Well, sorry to break it to you, but this is rubbish.

"Harry could have been the next Voldermort or Dumbledore if Ron hadn't infected him wi"

Ron and his friendship with Harry are seen as DISEASES.

"Weasley must die! Weasley must die!"

"I actually don't mind Ginny as a character, but Ron has always severely irritated me. The ending to Deathly Hallows was disappointing - how could JKR stick Hermione with a git like that? Ron's been nothing but awful to her since day one, and let's not even get started on how he's treated Harry...

Not really such a "loyal" sidekick, is he? When it all comes down to it, he's a selfish prat, thinking of nobody but himself. The PoA incident with Crookshanks, then GoF when he accused Harry of putting his name into the Goblet - there's been numerous occaisions in which that red haired git has allowed his jealously to get the better of him and abandoned his friends all because of his own petty insecurities.

Halfway through Deathly Hallows, I was ready to strangle him. I know the locket probably brought most of it on - but I don't see that as an excuse for him to throw a childish temper tantrum and blow up about Harry not knowing what he's doing. Okay, so you miss mummy's cooking, and living your life as a lazy sloth..

No reason to take it out on your two best friends. At least your parents are still alive, you ignorant MORON. I was rather pleased when Harry told him off, though. :)

All in all; Ron has always been an annoying, pain in the butt character to me. Utterly useless, really.

I can't wait to see what other creative ways you come up with to kill him.

*adds story to favorites*

Weasley is NOT my king."

So many things wrong.

Ron has been nothing other than awful to Hermione ? What about 'You're the most wonderful person I've ever met ?' 'She's been perfect, as usual.' ? What about getting detention several times (and one washing bedpans) for defending her ?

#ron weasley #hp #anti ron-hate

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