#nora hits 1k

[nomazee]

THIS EVENT IS SO CUTE!!🩷🩷😭

could i req childhood best friends dan heng x reader word(s) is sneaking out if you want a timestamp, it's 11:42 p.m. thank you so much!!!

THIS REQUEST WAS SO CUTE i had way too much fun with this this hit 1.5k words which is way over the limit i set for myself... but i do not regret it at all. I LOVE CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND DAN HENG AAAA THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING

my 1k event!

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The ringing of your phone is cut off by the automated voicemail message for the nth time in a row. Your neck hurts from how long you’ve been staring up at Dan Heng’s bedroom window,  where the lights are off and the curtains are drawn and he’s definitely asleep. 

Anticipation makes you bounce on your feet, itching to just break into his front door and shake him awake yourself. Fortunately for Dan Heng’s family, it doesn’t quite reach that point, because your phone suddenly vibrates in your hand with Dan Heng’s contact flashing on your screen. 

Incoming call. Jackpot. 

“Dan Heng,” you answer the call with no formalities whatsoever, because those aren’t needed after knowing him for so long, “come outside! I’m here to pick you up.” 

“What is wrong with you,” he grumbles out. The grit in his voice is endearing and familiar and makes your breath stutter. “It’s— almost midnight.”

“I know, and you’re already asleep? You’re such a senior citizen,” you hear the exhausted sigh he makes at another one of your old-man-Dan-Heng jokes. “There's a carnival tonight. Like, one of the cool ones that only open at 10 o’clock. March just texted me about it, she’s already there with Stelle!”

“Why wouldn’t you tell me earlier?” You hear shuffling, and spot movement in your peripheral vision. Craning your head up to look at his window yet again, you see the flicker of his bedside lamp being turned on (and you can already picture it from how well you know his room—that goofy-looking toucan table lamp that you got from some vintage store years ago for him), and the curtains pull back to reveal Dan Heng in all his half-asleep glory. He looks terrible, bangs sticking up and his corny galaxy-printed sleep shirt all wrinkled. It’s a charming look, though. 

“I told you, March just texted me about it! Literally five minutes ago.” 

“So, you ran here just to tell me about it?” 

“Well, yeah, duh,” your tone is incredulous, because he should know by now that he’s the first person you go to for anything. The first person to hear about your failing grade in calculus, or your embarrassing run-in with your middle school ex girlfriend, or the bitter orange that you had as an afternoon snack. Dan Heng’s call history is probably full of your contact (which is just your name, no fun emoticons or inside jokes, and no profile picture, much to your everlasting dismay), and every call would show that he answers every single one without fail. 

And, really, if you’re going to be honest with yourself (which you really hate doing), there’s a hopefulness twitching in your fingers tonight, something carried to you through the wind. You’re thinking of the carnival, about the sticky sweet snacks that you’re going to split with Dan Heng, the ferris wheel cart that you’ll be cramped in, the view of the stars from way up there and the tender way he’ll look at you. 

Because he does that, sometimes, with no explanation, and you’ve never had the strength to respond in any way but a hesitant smile and a smack on his shoulder and a stupid joke. But there’s a tote bag slung around your arm now, full of money and two water bottles and the weight of your heart. 

“Listen,” you tell him after a bout of his reluctant silence, “I brought you a jacket and your scarf, because I know you’re vitamin deficient and you’ll blow away in the wind unless I hold you down. It’ll be so fun if you come with me! Please? And I’ll get you home before your family notices!” 

Both you and Dan Heng know that’s a lie, because you have a tendency to drag him out for long periods of time where both of you forget to check your phones. In your opinion, it does more good than harm, because it lets you live in the moment—or so you tell Dan Heng’s parents when they question you about keeping their son out past sundown. 

“I’m not vitamin deficient,” Dan Heng tells you, but the argument is weakened by the fact that you’ve had to carry around a spare jacket for Dan Heng since you were both stumbling on your tiny baby legs. He must realize that, too, because you can see the way his face softens as he looks at you from his window, peering down. Despite the minimal light, you can still see the vibrant sheen of his eyes, the way that his mouth presses into a thin line to hold back a smile. 

It takes only a moment of contemplation before he lets out a yielding sigh and mumbles, “Okay, fine. I’m coming downstairs to let you in and then I’ll get ready. Don’t be loud.”

“I’m never loud!” 

The call ends with a click and Dan Heng slides his striped curtains closed. Circling around to get back to his front door, you made sure to be as quiet as possible and not trample his family’s gardenias. When the door opens to reveal Dan Heng’s beautiful, sleep-swollen face, an overwhelming warmth blooms in your chest and leaves your lungs dry and aching for air. The smile that appears on your face is instinctual, as most behaviors are for you around Dan Heng. 

“Hi,” you whisper, really truly whisper, because he told you to be quiet and sometimes it’s good to do what Dan Heng wants (only sometimes). His lips are still tightened into that thin line, and you think, I’ll make him laugh tonight, which is a goal you’ve always set for yourself, ever since you befriended him in first grade with a paper flower and a loud, blatant, childish proclamation of best-friend-ship. 

“Wait on the couch,” he directs you quietly, stepping aside to let you in. “Get a water from the fridge and pack it.” 

“I already brought two for us,” the apples of your cheeks strain with the force of your smile, and you’re trying not to giggle. The water thing—that was established forever ago, too, just like the spare jacket, and staying out late, and the toucan lamp, and the paper flower. You always shared a water bottle, reminding each other and passing one between your hands until the last drops were wrung dry from it, and then you’d spend half an hour trying to find a fountain to refill it because you never packed more than two on any given day. 

“Dan Heng,” you stop him with a hand on his shoulder before he can go back up the stairs to get ready in his room, and he looks back at you with the same look that you were envisioning before. The color of his eyes has gone dim, but in a fond way, in a way that tells you his breathing is even and his pulse is steady. 

You take the brief moment where his attention is on you to wrap your arms around him, the sleeves of your jacket pulling him close, warm, tender to you. Your tote bag dangles awkwardly to the side, but you try not to let it stop you from squeezing him tight, letting him know you’re here, right here. 

“What’s this about,” he mumbles into your shoulder, hands going up to grasp at the back of your sweatshirt and tug you just a few millimeters closer. A gentle weight sits between your hands and in your chest and you stifle a laugh into his barely-covered shoulder. 

“Nothing. Just really happy you’re coming.” 

“Okay,” he says, because he’s awkward and awful and so are you, but his hands still squeeze between your shoulderblades and keep you against him. A whistle of wind makes the gutters of the house creak, and you think of the stars that you’ll see from the top of the ferris wheel tonight, glinting in the sky and in Dan Heng’s eyes. 

“Let me go so I can change.” His voice is monotone, seemingly disinterested, but you don’t take offense to it, you never have. Reluctantly, you loosen your grip around him, and let him pull back the rest of the way because you can’t bear to do it yourself. 

The look, the glimmer, the depth of his eyes are all still there, accompanied by a new rosiness in his cheeks that you know isn’t caused by the heat of your hands or the cold wind outside. You don’t get the chance to laugh at the waver in his mouth as he fights back a small laugh, because he’s already turning back to rush up the stairs, stance wobbling as he tries to hide from his own embarrassment, and it’s so terrible and familiar and you ache with the urge to burrow into this home and make it your own. 

Your phone is flooded with dozens of texts from March, you’re sure, but even as it pushes midnight, you take your sweet time walking to the carnival, fingers clasped with each other as your jacket hangs off of Dan Heng—like it always has, like it always will.

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[roseharpermaxwell]

RWRB FirstPrince AU Recs - Part One

I'm such a fan of an AU, and I love how many there are in FirstPrince. Any situation you can put Alex and Henry in, I'm here for it.

Here are many of my favorites so far, up to 10k words. Give the authors some love and let me know if you find something you adore!

like a goddamn angel by @coffeecatsme. G, 1k. If it wasn’t for the hot blonde standing just inside the Red Cross vehicle, Alex doubts he would’ve even signed up to donate blood in the first place.

Alex decides to donate blood despite being squeamish, and Henry takes care of him.

take a picture (it’ll last longer) by @whimsymanaged. M, 1.4k. Alex’s physiotherapist tells him to start doing yoga, and it’s driving Henry up the wall.

Drummers Do It Better by @everwitch-magiks. M, 1.4k. "Drummers," Alex starts, hitting his drumsticks against the table for optimal effect, "are little sluts."

Nora snorts. "Are you sure you wanna make that claim about yourself, Alejandro?"

"Respect my authority on this subject," Alex says, with the conviction of someone who did in fact enjoy blowjobs in the bathroom less than half an hour earlier. Case in point. "For every idiot who wants to start a band, there's one tenth of a drummer. Which is why you have your guitarists and bass players talking about 'their band' — singular — while drummers talk about their gigs. Drummers don't play in one band, we play with whoever sounds hottest at the moment. So you don’t marry the drummer — they'll be out of your bed and on their way to bang someone else's hi-hat before you've caught your breath."

Or: Alex has some strong opinions during a riveting round of 'Fuck, Marry, Kill.' Unbeknownst to him, Henry is also in a band.

took you long enough by coffeecatsme. G, 1.5k. Alex is, as much as Henry wishes differently, very much straight, and wouldn’t think twice about curling in his best friend’s bed if he needed to shut his eyes for a bit. It doesn’t mean anything. And yet Henry can’t take his eyes off of Alex, hopelessly wishing he slip next to Alex and take him in his arms.

Henry finds Alex asleep in his bed. Cuddling ensues.

sparks fly by rizcriz. T, 1.6k. Alex smiles, glancing down at the maroon suit Nora had helped him pick out, feeling a little proud of himself. And, as he does most every time he’s in Henry’s vicinity, he almost immediately completely forgets the camera and crowd watching him in order to give Henry all his attention as he looks back up. “I’m touched,” He says, bringing his free hand to his heart, and reminding himself to speak into the microphone in his other hand. “You remembered me,” he says, as if this is his first interview with this particular musician.

It’s not. Though, when he thinks back on it, even the first interview hadn’t felt like the first.

And if the internet's response to that interview were anything to go by, they didn’t think it did, either.

or, Pop star Henry and red carpet correspondent Alex.

like it’s patrón by @hypnostheory. E, 1.8k. Henry points his gun back at the target, his left hand closing around his right on the handle. Behind him, Alexander clicks his tongue.

“Nah sweet thing, that’s gonna make the recoil hit harder,” Alexander says, reaching around Henry to adjust his grip. He leaves Henry’s right arm straight, but bends the left one in slightly, so it’s supporting but not holding the full weight of the gun. It puts the sight right in line with Henry’s dominant eye. “Put your left leg forward, right leg back against mine.”

Henry shifts his legs as instructed, which presses the two of them together from Henry’s back to his ankle. Alexander hooks his chin over Henry’s shoulder with a wicked little grin Henry can only catch out of the corner of his eye. “Take the shot.”

Henry meets Alexander at a gun range, but it’s not the first time they’ve met. Alex calls in a raincheck.

the odds are never in your favor by coffeecatsme. T, 1.9k. “Love,” Henry whispers—that pet name, it’s that stupid pet name that made Alex forget the reality of the Games—and Alex knows the words before he even utters them. “I don’t think they’ll allow both of us to live.”

The ending of the first Hunger Games book, but with Alex and Henry.

Aftercare by whimsymanaged. M, 2k. When Alex has an intense hookup without aftercare, he finds himself on his best friend Henry’s doorstep in desperate need of looking after.

Getting Clinical by @cha-melodius. T, 2k. “So, come here often?” Alex tries to joke, only to realize too late the implications behind asking such a question in a sexual health clinic. He grimaces, hard. “Fuck, I didn’t mean— you don’t have to answer that. I was just— trying to make it not awkward.”

To his relief, Blue Eyes just looks amused. “And made it exceedingly awkward instead?”

(Or: Alex, Henry & a meet-cute at the STI clinic)

you're calling me? by coffeecatsme. T, 2k. “As I was saying.” Nora claps her hands together. “I have an idea. Spin the bottle, but instead of truth or dare or seven minutes in heaven or whatever, whoever it lands on has to call their crush right now and confess.”

Alex’s heart drops somewhere in below his stomach. “Wait a fucking minute.”

Or, Nora proposes a drinking game, and Alex suddenly has to come to terms with his feelings for his best friends.

for you i'd ruin myself (a million little times) by coffeecatsme. E, 2.2k. Bright eyes meet Henry's, and impossibly there’s a grin playing on the man’s lips, amusement where there should be disgust behind the brown irises. “Will I be arrested if I sneak their prince off to my room?” he asks, head tilted to the side.

Or, Henry meets Alex one fateful night in Texas during his tour in the U.S.

voir dire. by @chaa-kiao. T, 2.2k. Henry Fox had the Heimlich maneuver perfected long before he got his job as a teacher. Along with cardiopulmonary resuscitation. He also never leaves the house without his phone, lest he need to call an emergency number. Generally, he isn’t so overstrung about things.  Of course, generally, he doesn’t have other people’s lives in his hands.

When his soulmate knocks on death’s door, it’s more than likely Henry will be the one answering.

doctor doctor, i'm at death's door! by dearestalez. T, 2.3k. “How did this even happen?”

“Dropped a knife.”

Henry sighed deeply, “you’re the smartest and stupidest man I know.”

“Hey,” Alex grinned, “you married me.”

Henry finally pulled back, their faces inches apart. His smile was tired but loving all the same.

Or;

Alex accidentally injures himself and decides to hide it from his doctor husband Henry because surely, that’s the smartest thing to do in that situation.

Sunkissed by everwitch. T, 2.5k. It's been a long summer of being completely ignored by one Henry Fox, the blue-eyed boy who's been deliberately avoiding Alex ever since the first day of camp. When Alex finally confronts Henry, the last thing he expects is to find that Henry isn't nearly as stoic and unfeeling as he's always seemed. As the two form an unexpected connection, it remains to be seen if this sudden spark between them will last beyond the summer sun. After all, they've spent no more than a few hours together. It's not like they'll still be on each other's mind, after they've gone back home. Right?

the best intentions by @smc-27. G, 2.5k. He sees the flyer when he’s in town picking up the fabric and books June wanted from the market.

Once a year. On the prince’s birthday. The chance for his one true love to rescue him from the tower. A cash prize to go along with the prince’s hand in marriage. The title of Prince Consort and a palace of their own.

Alex knows himself. He knows how people are with him. He’s made people fall in love with him without even trying for it. He’s had to break hearts since he was 15 and Charlotte Marks told her father she was going to marry Alex. He can get some cloistered prince on board.

how do you want me? by rizcriz. T, 2.5k. “Christ,” Henry curses quietly, lowering the camera. “You’re beautiful.”

Kneeling on the bed, his ankles crossed behind him, a hand tucked into his briefs, the other carefully weaved through his hair, is Bea’s friend Alex. The light sits on his skin, a delicate shadow of eyelashes fan over his cheeks, and when Henry speaks, he opens his eyes and looks at him from beneath those eyelashes, a careful smirk slipping over his lips. He doesn’t move from the pose, though, as he says, “You’re not so bad yourself, sweetheart.”

Or Henry’s in over his head.

The Perils of Desk Building by ronans. NR, 2.6.k

2B,

Are you planning on getting any work done in your specifically rented office space? Fabulous, as am I.

The thing about an absurd amount of noise is that it can be incredibly distracting.

Regards,

Henry (2A)

When I want sincerity by @clottedcreamfudge. M, 2.6k. Alex always aces his interviews – he's never not been offered a job after an interview, and he's had a fair fucking few of them. He's not a bullshitter, either – he really tries. He learns about the company, asks engaging questions, gives thoughtful answers. He's a fucking delight.

This one shouldn't be any different. (It is.)

Total Collapse by clottedcreamfudge. T, 2.6k. Henry hates him. This is an immutable fact. So, when they'd been arguing in the third floor break room and the world had started to shake, the last thing Alex had expected was to be saved from a hefty chunk of falling ceiling as it cracked and fractured above them.

break up with your girlfriend (cause i’m bored) by fxckingeyelashes. E, 3k. the one where Alex and Nora are Henry’s new coworkers, but Henry is mistaken and jealous.

Gym Buddies by @omgcmere. E, 3k. "I'm Henry," the guy offers. Alex pushes up one rep, then another. The blood is rushing to his face as he powers through more, and seems to be rushing elsewhere as well, because there's undeniable arousal pooling in his groin from the exertion. He struggles slightly for a moment, then, and instead of taking over like Alex expects, his new best friend Henry starts—talking. "That's good, so good. Perfect, can you give me another?"

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Sweat pours down Alex's forehead as he pushes the bar back up off his chest.

"Beautiful, just beautiful. So good for me. There you are, love." Henry helps Alex settle the bar back on the rack, and Alex exhales in a rush, his heart thudding almost painfully against his chest. Fuck.

PUMP Gym is notorious for gay guys cruising, and Alex wants to hook up.

Tracing constellations by clottedcreamfudge. E, 3.1k. When Henry had mentioned he was going to be in a charity calendar, Alex hadn't really thought much of it. He'd said it casually enough that there hadn't really been any necessary follow-up questions; calendars don't exactly whip Alex into a frenzy, as a rule.

Two months later, Bea sends him an innocuous link, complete with a winky face, and Alex clicks on it without question.

And promptly loses his fucking mind.

diamonds are forever by rizcriz.T, 3.1k. Henry shakes his head. “James Bond is fictional.”

Alex raises his eyebrows. “But . . . ?”

Gaze slipping to the ceiling, Henry nods once. “It is not . . .” He says, making a face as his eyes meet Alex’s again. “Dissimilar to James Bond.”

Alex nods. “So . . .” He trails off, the information still processing. It’s a bit like his mind is buffering as he makes sense of it. It’s so little information, yet so much all at once. Like someone’s thrown an encyclopedia at his head and given him a cliff notes explanation expecting him to know it word for word. “That would mean—I’m dating James Bond?” He blinks, sitting up straight. “Oh my god,” he exclaims with sudden realization. “I’m a Bond Girl.” 

Love At First Bark by everwitch. G, 3.2k. “I still don’t know your name, do I?”

Henry watches Alex where he’s crouched down in front of David and gently scratching David below his chin. David absolutely loves Alex. Henry can relate.

“It’s David,” Henry supplies.

“Cool,” Alex says. “And what’s the dog’s name?”

Henry blinks at him. “... David?”

“What?” Alex exclaims. He looks from David to Henry and then back at David again. “Wow, okay, that is a choice.”

Henry wants to sink through the earth and never come back up again.

i wouldn't stop for red lights by matherine. E, 3.3k. There are flowers on Henry’s desk when he comes into work. They’re pretty, really – chosen by someone who knows him, because there are hydrangeas and white roses and daffodils, and certainly not enough baby’s breath for the bouquet to have been cheap. Not that Henry would make assumptions, nor that he’s the sort of person that would look up the cost of a gift, but he knows who put it here. Even before he looks at the little card attached to a rose’s stem, he knows, because he gets flowers every April 15th.

dinner and a show by rizcriz. T, 3.4k. For the first time since he walked out onto the soundstage, he eases into his chair, and nods, genuine comfort seeping into his bones. “Now it’s getting interesting,” he says, motioning towards the monitor with a grin.

He doesn't even think about his answer, either. Eyes flicking over Prince Henry’s features. He smiles slow and interested, and very carefully says, “Smash. Definitely smash.” And to send the point home and reiterate just how fucking bisexual he is, no matter how hard people try to bury it, he turns to the camera, and says, “Name a time and place and I’m there.”

Or, a game of smash or pass changes two lives irrevocably.

The Beginner’s Guide to Floriography by @harrysglasses. G, 3.4k. Henry owns a flower shop. Alex is a frequent customer with a very busy love life.

home by rizcriz. T, 3.4k. For a moment he fears Henry’s been outed against his will somehow, but he scrolls down to find a video clip. Unable to trust himself to watch the video, he scrolls a little further to read the transcript.

He learns that Henry had come out during a ribbon cutting, of all things. He’d stood in front of a crowd of a couple hundred people gathered for the opening of a new youth shelter, and he’d told his truth. Alex is tempted to watch the video, to examine his body language to see if it was planned or not, but he reads further and one sentence stands out to tell him it wasn’t.

There is no comment yet from Buckingham Palace.

or, six months after Henry rejected Alex at Kensington Palace.

sweet like candy by @indomitable-love. T, 3.5k. Alex is going to kill Nora.

A 68.9% chance he wasn’t going to fall and break his leg, his ass.

And now he has recovery from one minor surgery, a mountain of medical debt, and a story that Alex will be hearing about every holiday, birthday and other family occasion for the rest of his goddamn life to look forward to.

Alex shouldn’t have let Nora goad him on. But he was restless, and he did. He can’t be too mad though, not when his own stupidity led to him meeting Henry.

call it what you want to by rizcriz. T, 3.8k. It’s.

Not a secret, exactly.

It’s just, time fucking flies when you’re having fun and before anyone knows it you’re six months deep in a relationship that feels like its going to stand the test of time and neither you nor your boyfriend know how to sit down your friends and family and tell them the truth. And, okay, this is kind of their faults, in a way, because they had agreed to test the limits of their relationship in the privacy of their apartment and never really in front of anyone else—

Okay, fuck, maybe it is a secret. 

A different kind of Crown Court by clottedcreamfudge. E, 4k. Henry doesn't even really want to be courted, is the thing; the freedom to be himself is absolutely lovely, and he wouldn't give it up for anything, but the idea of marrying a single one of the obsequious, boring, or downright strange men he's come across so far fills him with dread. Why can't he just be himself for a while? Why can't he just… Well, not play the field exactly, but—

Actually, yes. That's exactly what he wants to do.

I Miss You Exceptionally by ronans. NR, 4.2k. Alex’s jaw clenches more and more tightly as he catches Henry’s name floating around in various strangers’ conversations. It’s not a surprise, obviously, but it doesn’t really sit well.

‘I can hear your teeth cracking,’ Nora says, shoving his arm.

‘I’m sorry if I’m not exactly thrilled that my ears are getting railed by the name of the guy who flew across an ocean to avoid me.’

‘I thought you were into that.’

Or, Alex Claremont-Diaz has been blanked for five years after kissing his college roommate, when said college roommate writes perhaps the most devastating novel Alex has never read.

kitchen confidential by @dumbpeachjuice. T, 4.3k. The NDA is approximately a mile long.

“Jesus fuck,” Alex splutters. “What, is their favourite film The Menu or something? Am I gonna come out of this one alive?”

Or, the one where Alex is hired to cater a private dinner party for Prince Henry and his friends, and it does not go as he expects.

Sleep With Me by HMS_Chill. G, 4.3k. Ever since high school, Alex has been falling asleep to the same podcast: Sleep With Me, where a British man named Tilney tells rambling bedtime stories and gives positive affirmations. But after they're outed, the podcast goes quiet, and Tilney may be closer than Alex thinks.

dad of honour by stutteringpeach. G, 4.6k. Henry and Alex are getting married. Arthur knows just what to do.

in need of assistance by stutteringpeach. G, 4.6k. Henry has a crush on Alex. Arthur can tell.

9 to 5 by smc-27. T, 4.7k. Henry is Alex’s favourite colleague. By a fucking country mile, to be honest. He’s intensely competent, has an insane memory for process and policy, and is kind to everyone.

Also? He’s fucking pretty, and Alex might be new to bisexuality, but he’s not that new. He knows what he likes, and what he likes are men with pretty eyes and kind smiles and nice cheekbones and English accents.

Other men, too, but like. Be serious. Henry’s top of the list.

Unfortunately, Henry lives in London. Alex lives in New York City. They work closely together and meet once a week, if not more, and Slack one another almost every day. Alex is on the legal team, and Henry is in business operations, and the second Alex met Henry for the first time, he knew he was truly fucked.

the love of my life, forever by coffeecatsme. T, 4.8k. “So,” the host of the talk show starts, eyes glimmering with excitement as he gazes at Alex over the desk, “your new single. I think anyone here would agree that it felt like a death by a thousand cuts, listening to those lyrics. If you don’t mind me asking… There’s been a lot of speculation online about who the song is about.”

Alex flips his curls to the other side, trying not to smile. “Uh huh.”

Or, 5 times the media speculates Alex is dating someone else and 1 time they realize he's been with Henry all this time.

when you know, you know by vibrantsaturn. T, 4.9k. With shaky hands, Henry pulls out the ring from the box, looking at Alex with tearful eyes that he adores so much. Asks, "Alex, darling, will you marry me?"

Alex lets out a watery laugh, swiping an arm across his face to get rid of the rapidly falling tears. He kneels down to cup Henry's face and brushes his thumbs across his cheekbones softly.

"Baby. Don't you remember?" Alex whispers, leaning their foreheads together. "We're already married."

or,

Alex "marries" his best friend when he's six-years-old. It just takes some time for them to fall in love, but they get there.

for you, i'd set the world on fire by softcinnamonroll. T, 5k. Alex was four years old when he first witnessed love in person. He was out for lunch with his abuela and June, munching on a cheese sandwich when a couple sitting a few tables over from them caught his eye. It was a young couple, around his mommy and daddy’s age, and they were holding hands and feeding each other spoonfuls of their dessert.

[or Alex just really wants to fall in love]

Burnin' Through The Sky by @cricketnationrise. E, 5k. This whole thing is Nora’s fault, actually, and he will hold this against her for the rest of their natural lives. Possibly into the next. His personal life is fine. It’s possible he was whining about not having dated anyone since his last boyfriend, but this event is so clearly not going to fix that problem.

Or: Alex wasn’t expecting to meet anyone at speed dating, let alone anyone like Henry.

Library Requests by M0ssPiglet. T, 5.5k. “You read anything good recently?”

“I’m currently re-reading Pride and Prejudice?” Henry offers, and phrases it as a question because he’s a dimwit.

“Ya, that checks out,” Alex says, cocking an eyebrow. “But I’m looking for something that’s, I dunno, actually fun. You got any recommendations?”

Alex gives him a smile, like this is just the kind of thing you ask a librarian. Henry supposes that actually, it probably is.

“Right, well, I can probably help with that too.” Henry grabs another scrap of paper, scribbles down The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue and pushes it over to Alex. “Since you seem like the kind of person who thrives on debauchery and general lawlessness.”

A 5 +1 where Henry’s a librarian who flirts via book recommendation, and one time Alex flirts back.

Little Talks by harrysglasses. G, 5.7k. “Tío, Mr Fox likes you.”

“What?” Alex’s heart skips a beat, a forkful of spaghetti halfway up to his mouth.

“Oh my god, Alex,” June hisses, “Have you been F-L-I-R-T-I-N-G with my daughter’s teacher.”

Alex is roped into doing the school run for his niece while crashing at June and Nora’s house for the summer. He stops bitching about it once he meets the teacher, Mr Fox.

before the first light by @dumbpeachjuice. T, 5.7k. “I don’t feel anyone. And I’m not going to feel anyone. Because I don’t have a soulmate.”

Alex looks confused. “What? Everyone has a—“

“I don’t have a soulmate,” Henry tells him with a sigh, “because I don’t have a soul.”

just give me a minute by smc_27. T, 5.8k. Alex isn’t obsessed.

He just thinks Henry is fucking beautiful and perfect and smart and so, so talented. He just thinks Henry’s fingers look gorgeous on his piano. He just thinks they like the same things and have similar opinions. And he just thinks if they could be in the same place at the same time, they might like, have something.

Okay, he’s a little obsessed.

Or: Alex is trying to be a GROUPIE here, but his kindness keeps getting in the way.

All for a Taste of the Honey by chamel. E, 5.9k. “So you’re telling me you’re not in favor of this plan,” Henry says eventually.

“No, I’m fucking not,” Alex huffs, glaring at him. “It’s stupid and dangerous and unnecessary.”

Henry cocks one perfect eyebrow at him. “You have another idea for how to get access to the room where he does his deals? The one that only ever admits Vega, his associates, and the strippers who entertain them?”

(Or, an FBI agent!Stripper!Henry fic. Henry goes undercover at a strip club, and Alex has a lot of feelings about that.)

In the Dog Days by chamel. T, 6.1k. Henry had been so excited when he’d announced it to their little group, gathered one evening at the pub, that David was going to be coming over to the States. He’d gone on and on—an impossibly soft look in his eyes—about how much he missed him, and how great it would be to finally have him here, and how everyone would love him.

Alex has his doubts. He’s not jealous, because that would be absurd. Henry’s one of his best friends. It’s not— It’s not like that between them. He’s happy for Henry, truly.

He just doesn’t understand why Henry wouldn’t previously have mentioned that his boyfriend is a fucking shapeshifter.

(Alex isn’t exactly thrilled to meet Henry’s boyfriend David—obviously a shapeshifter—but what really bothers him is the fact that David refuses to show his human face.)

heartbeats under coats by HypnosTheory. E, 6.1k. Alex, a DC lawyer on his way back from a work trip, is stranded in New York after a freak blizzard grounds all flights. He gets the last available hotel room on the island, but a freak error means the room is double booked. Unwilling to leave the other stranded, both men agree to share the room and wait out the blizzard together.

Want you BRIMNESxt to me by clottedcreamfudge. E, 6.2k. "On the bright side," Henry continues, still smiling slightly, "the staff and any stranded customers have been given permission to do the one thing every IKEA employee dreams of being able to do."

Alex thinks that the one thing this IKEA employee dreams of being able to do would probably get him fired, so he just raises his eyebrows in question until Henry elaborates.

"We can stay over in the showroom beds, Alex. That's what we've been given permission to do."

So begins The Great IKEA Blackout Sleepover of 2021.

(i would stay forever if you say) don't go by coffeecatsme. T, 6.3k. The words echo in his head, unbidden. The words from another life, practically another universe, shoved inside the small walls of a gilded cage, hidden in a room in London with shuttered windows and locked doors. A boy’s voice Henry still remembers ten years later, when he doesn’t quite remember what he had for lunch the day before. A boy’s voice on a phone that understood him better than every member of his family, even an ocean, a continent, three thousand miles away.

A boy’s voice that told him in no uncertain terms that it was okay if he wasn’t okay, that allowed him to pave a path until he was.

To open a new shelter in New York City, Henry needs to interview a host of potential lawyers to hire. He doesn't expect one of them to be the boy that saved his life ten years ago.

Turnabout's Fair Play by clottedcreamfudge. E, 6.5k. He manages to get a couple of hours' sleep – after working himself into a rage that works wonderfully at burning through all the caffeine and adrenaline – and pretends to still be asleep the entire time Liam's up and getting ready for work.

And cheating. Work and cheating. Because those texts were from yesterday and Liam said tomorrow, which is... Today. Cool. Liam's putting on his shoes by the front door and fucking off to cheat on Alex after five years of being together, and that's totally fine. Alex has gone past upset and straight through to vengeful.

shake it loose together by stutteringpeach. E, 6.5k. Alex is in the corner of his sister’s bachelorette party sporting the most confused boner of his life.

“Buckle up, cowpeople!” one of the strippers is yelling. He’s wearing nothing but a neon pink thong and suspenders. “It’s time to see how well you can ride the bucking bronco!”

‘Pony’ comes on, because of course it fucking does, there are strippers at this party. It’s basically written into the constitution at this point—where there are strippers, thou shalt play Ginuwine. Fucking Channing Tatum and his ridiculously chiseled abs.

Love is Thai food and crepe paper by clottedcreamfudge. T, 6.5k. "Jennifer says, 'love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs'," Henry says, just as the microwave goes 'ding' in an annoyingly accusatory way. Alex glares at it. He's not in love with Henry; they're just goddamn arepas.

Have You Tried Turning it Off and On Again? by clottedcreamfudge. E, 6.6k. It’s been a month and Henry’s absolutely not making up IT issues to call a stranger who lives on the other side of a vast ocean, except that he’s doing precisely that. He’s managed to figure out that Gabriel is five hours behind him, but that doesn’t narrow things down particularly well, even in a country with multiple time zones.

Not that he’s trying to narrow it down. It’s dangerous enough feeling this connected to someone whose voice is an octave or two lower than the crown would allow, let alone when-

Well, when his heart belongs completely and irrevocably to someone else already. He’s already gone and handed it to someone he can’t have and who doesn’t even bloody want him back, so maybe that’s why this whole thing is so compelling to him. He can’t give his heart away twice, can he? Not when Alex Claremont-Diaz is already holding it in his hands, whether he knows it or not.

Foreign Bodies by clottedcreamfudge. E, 6.7k. “We both know it's not a doctor you need,” Henry says, sharp and beautiful, hands hovering just in front of him like he wants to touch Alex, but knows exactly how it would be received; like he knows Alex would burst into fucking flames at the first brush of his fingertips.

Three hours ago, Alex had been quite happy to live without being burned. Now, he thinks he'd pay for the privilege.

You Know the Rules by clottedcreamfudge. E, 6.7k. "Understood," Bea says seriously, eyes on the screen. "Loud and clear. You're terrified of commitment."

"No—"

"And you think that it's your erotic fiction driving men away, when in fact it's your lack of desire to connect with anyone," Bea continues, drowning out Henry's loud protestations. "It's clear to me now. Victor could have ditched the candles and bought you that antique writing set you wanted and it would never have been enough for you because you didn't want to be seen."

Rendered silent by his own confusion and Bea's profound wrongness, Henry stares at her for a good few minutes before he manages to find his voice. "What utter bollocks."

Kind of a weird question by @gallifrey1sburning. T, 6.9k. “You’re so sure?” Nora asked, and the glint in her eyes told Alex, very clearly, that nothing good was going to come from this. So, of course, he doubled down.

“100%. Photoshoot, performance art, whatever, I don’t care. That is not just some guy hanging out on the High Line looking like he just… I don’t know, wandered off of some beach in England where he was staring moodily out to sea waiting for his lost love or some shit. There’s no way.”

“Fifty bucks says you’re wrong.”

“And how the fuck do you intend to settle that bet?”

“Easy. You go ask him.”

I fall to pieces when I'm with you by viciouslyqueer. E, 6.9k. If once is an accident, and twice is a coincidence, when it happens a third time Henry really starts to think about it.

Three times Alex doesn't want Henry to touch him and one time he understands why.

Red, White & Royal Goose by fairestfaerie. T, 7k. Happy Gooseday Alex Claremont-Diaz!

Or, the First Prince soulmate goose AU that literally no one asked for.

Original prompt: soulmate au where one person finds a goose who leads them to the other person. the difficulty comes in not being mauled by a goose

i open my eyes and i see that it's you by weather_stained. T, 7.2k. Henry plans to spend the week relaxing at Lake LBJ with Bea and David, but he doesn't anticipate the near-drowning, the concussion, or the beautiful stranger who quickly endears himself to Henry—after nearly killing him, that is. Who needs relaxation when you have Alex Claremont-Diaz in your life?

who ya gonna call? by @anincompletelist. M, 7.2k. Henry is a ghostwriter. Alex is a little confused on what exactly that means.

Chasing Butterflies by quill_and_ink. E, 7.3k. "'Hey, how's it going? Nice weather today, yeah? Cute dog, what's his name? Quick question for you - d'you wanna choke me with your dick?'"

Piss-up in a brewery by clottedcreamfudge. E, 7.3k. "I hate this," Alex says, not for the first time, and Henry covers his face with his hands.

"Yes," he says, a little muffled, "that's coming across."

"It's not, like, personal," Alex clarifies, even though it fucking is. "I just don't really like sleeping with other people. I mean, sleeping in beds with other people. I like having sex-"

"Yes, alright," Henry says peevishly, not moving his hands at all. "You needn't extol further on your love of intercourse."

"Who the fuck talks like that?"

Sit. Down. Please Stay. by @historicallysam. T, 7.5k. Alex adopts a dog he found abandoned on the side of the road. She's nervous and he wants to make sure he knows how to give her the best life possible. Enter Henry Fox and his beagle David.

Can't Buy Me Love by @everwitch-magiks. M, 7.6k. Alex is a high end escort. Henry is his wealthiest client. He's also a total asshole, which Alex has zero patience for. He'd never let a client walk all over him like that, not even one with striking features and an air of firm authority that Alex has to keep reminding himself he’s not attracted to. But over time, Alex learns there's more to Henry than fiery insults and cruel dismissal. So much more. Alex is in so much fucking trouble.

He should end things with Henry before he gets burned.

(He couldn't end things with Henry if he got paid for it.)

Class(room) Warfare by chamel. M, 7.7k. “So what you’re telling me is that you’ve begun some kind of weird aggressive mating ritual with an English professor,” Nora says around obscenely large bites of her burrito.

“How the fuck—” Alex splutters, because he honestly has no clue how she came to that conclusion. “We’re not flirting. We’re at war.”

(It starts with a polite request to erase the whiteboards at the end of class. It gets a lot more ridiculous before it ends.)

it’s (not) the end of the world as we know it by viciouslyqueer. T, 7.8k.

BREAKING NEWS: SHOOTING AT NYC’S GAY CLUB ‘Ritz Bar and Lounge’.

June is saying something. He can’t hear her – or anything else for that matter. It’s like his brain decided to shut down and not comprehend anything in front of him.

The only thing he’s aware of is a thought at the back of his mind, hitting him with such force it’s all he can focus on – no matter how much it makes his knees give out under him, how his heart feels like it’s being ripped out of his chest and stabbed repeatedly with a sharp knife, cut into a thousand pieces with no possible repair.

Henry is in New York.

Actors Alex Claremont-Diaz and Henry Fox meet on the set of ‘Roses, Wisteria, and Royal Bluebells’, and stay friends after filming is over. When a catastrophe happens that tips Alex's world off its axis, he realizes just how deep his feelings for Henry run.

Dr. Dickhead series by cmere. E, 8k. Alex doesn't really understand why boring and pretentious Professor Henry Fox volunteers to help out at his students' events every semester, but he needs all the help he can get, so he's just gonna have to put up with him.

Blooming Lovely by Celaestis. T, 8.1k. "Yes, but we all know she hates chocolate. I feel like it's harder to say a big passive-aggressive 'fuck you' with flowers, that's all."

"Orange lilies," Alex blurts from behind the counter.

The man stops, turning his full attention on Alex. Alex realises pretty is an inadequate adjective; he's hotter than the surface of the fucking sun. Y'know, objectively. "I beg your pardon?"

lying in the low light by smc_27. E, 8.5k. The thing about having a one night stand with the guy your sister is close friends with and gatekept from you is that it becomes really fucking important that she never knows.

Or, Alex and Henry have a one year stand.

Or, Alex and Henry are in a relationship, only they’re the only ones who don’t know it.

blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine by @jackwolfes. M, 8.8k. "Do try to make a good impression tonight,” Henry mutters under his breath.

Alex’s jaw clenches just for a moment before he wills himself to relax. “Only if you try to get that stick out of your ass.”

After two months - two dreadfully long, boring months - of being married to a man that seemingly does not want anything to do with him, Alex gets a tip that his husband is going to be the target of an assassination attempt. He deals with it about as well as you'd expect him to.

ft: light whump, rash decisions, and sex in a bath tub.

all the words we don’t know by @smc-27. M, 9.2k. Henry, who Alex has never met or seen, and if he had, he’d certainly have a better reaction now. Something other than standing there and staring and not saying anything.

The only thing that makes him feel marginally okay with it is Henry is doing the same thing.

Then he seems to snap out of it, literally give his head a shake, and say, “You must be Alex.”

“Yeah.” He sticks his hand out too abruptly, and Henry looks down at it like hand shaking is a foreign concept. “Hi. Henry?”

booty shorts (a saga) series by coffeecatsme. E, 9.3k. Men should not be allowed to wear skin tight spandex shorts, Alex decides, as he watches the stupidly tall blonde dip into his millionth squat in a row.

Or, 5 times Alex stares at Henry's ass, and 1 time he does something about it.

Or, 5 + 1 times Henry wears tight booty shorts and Alex has feelings about it.

You're The Best Thing That's Never Been Mine by @cityofdownwardspirals. T, 9.4k. He can admit to himself that Henry is indeed the most attractive man he has laid eyes upon. Any person with common sense would agree with him there so he doesn’t read that much into it. He argues that that is why he started sweating when Henry smiled at him, just like he sometimes sweats when he watches Star Wars and he sees Han Solo on screen. Just two objectively attractive men, nothing more.

What he can’t understand is the fact that Henry was very bluntly flirting with him.

And while the flirting itself did not make Alex uncomfortable, he had to remind himself that Henry was one of his clients and that his fiancée was just outside the door while Henry flirted with him.

Henry is getting married and his soon-to-be wife surely won’t appreciate him hitting on a guy or that guy being their wedding planner.

He needs to get a grip.

The Woes of a Professional Matchmaker by ronans. T, 9.9k. ‘Mr Clare-‘ Henry almost chokes when he lays eyes on the man in the waiting room. ‘…mont-Diaz.’

‘You’re about to do a deep dive into my personal life, pretty sure you can call me Alex.’

Henry clears his throat. ‘Uh, quite. Alex. I’m Henry Fox.’

Alex beams at him and stands up, adjusting his burgundy blazer as he goes. Christ. The air between them clouds with the smell of Alex’s unbearably tasteful cologne as he moves past Henry into the office.

He’s fucked. Absolutely fucked.

Or, Henry runs a matchmaking business. Alex is his newest client.

I only tag an author once per post, but I'm still figuring out firstprince author handles. If you see one I may not know or find a broken link, please give me a heads up!

RWRB FirstPrince AU Recs Part Two

RWRB FirstPrince AU Recs Part Three

Master List of RWRB FirstPrince Recs

Master List of Recommendations

#firstprince #rwrb fic recs #rwrb #alex x henry #red white & royal blue

[coqvttes]

i hit 1k followers today and i just want to say thank you so so much, everyone. all the moots i’ve met on here are absolutely amazing and so so kind! i love every single one of them to bits and all the anons in my inbox are sweethearts too. thank you for making this a positive space for me so far. i really appreciate everyone and i’m so happy that people enjoy what i write and what i post, i can truly be myself on here. i truly love you all and i appreciate every single one of you. xx

i want to say special thank yous to some of my lovely mooties. (≧◡≦)づ ♡

@bearieio, spencerr, you were my first ever moot. you've just been so sweet and so so warm to chat with. you’re sooo pretty?? and really sincere! thank you for being my first friend on tumblr. (:

@dizzyntrr : maxine! my british bestie! i do LOVE seeing what you post on your blog and hearing about how your day went! your poetry is so lovely and so are you; i love your choice of vocabulary haha.

@yonphilia : you're truly amazing, mio! you’re always checking up on me and sending me lovely asks! you’re so so so energetic and kind and supportive.

@cigsnfilms : my supporterrrr. one of the first to interact with me and please we need to talk moreee. i LOVEE all the stuff you reblog i live for it!

@poisonedprose : you are such a talented writer, i remember reading a fic of yours before i even started this blog and i just remember it all. vira, you truly have a wonderful way with words and you’re just super nice!

@arthursgf1 : i love the aesthetic of your whole blog and everything you post and reblog (live laugh love arthur morgan). and dev, you're so so sweet! i'd love to talk to you more!

@konigceo : lala my love, your blog is SOO cute and pretty and pink and lovely and aheioshzh. your writing makes me blush and kick my feet up in the air literally!!

@solutopia : solana, i’ve always loved your name soooo much! and your blog themes are always gorgeous i love seeing your new ones. thank u sm for sending me asks often you’re really kind, darling.

@spiderst4rgirl : belle, you are just spontaneous and a big bundle of energy, literally, you make me burst out laughing so often. i love how pretty your moodboards are AND YOU ARE SO PRETTY TOO.

@starzu : you're blog is so so so lovely and so are you, you post nearly everyday and you work yourself so hard! i love all of your ideas in your fics and you deserve a big hug and i'll give it to you!

@norafaye : i just love how you've done up your blog so much! nora, you're so so creative and i love that so much! you're super supportive and real it's so nice to have a moot who loves f1 too!

@angedetoile : you're my bae, i love how you message me all the time and send me stuff all day. you are literally an angel and a total sweetheart. your goofy tiktoks make me laugh too omg.

@kasumitenbaz : kassandra! we've literally just met and all but i have to mention you. you are really sweet and your blog theme is so adorable and so are you. can't wait to talk 2 you more!

#ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 — chats #₊˚ෆ — mooties patooties #tumblr milestone

[fanficwritersworld]

Adding Smoak To Fire

Summary: After being injured, Bart finally does something that makes his sister happy.

Pairing: Nora West-Allen x Mia Smoak x Fem!Reader

Requested: by this anon. Hope you like it.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: a bit of angst and fluff

Masterlist|Prompt List

“XS!” you screamed. 

Nora turned to see you being held in the air. Whoever was holding you had been able to fight against your powers. “(H/N)!” Nora screamed. She needed to run. She had to save you. 

But not even a speedster can save everyone.

Nora can’t remember coming back to STAR Labs. All she could recall was you. Your screams as the criminal stabbed you. Your blood was on her hands when she finally got to you. Your paling skin. Your eyes open and close.

She couldn’t hear Caitlin’s orders, Cisco or Chester’s rapid thinking about how your powers might react to the injury, her mother’s soft pleas to have her change. Nora could barely feel her little brother gently grab her arm.

“Nora!” Bart whisper-shouted as he brought her to the time vault. “Wh–” Bart pulled his sister close to him, shushing her sobs. “Listen to me, I’m gonna go and get Mia. You need to clean up and stay with Mom” Bart told her. 

He knew his older sister better than most. Bart knew that until you woke up or Mia gets to you both, Nora would be stuck in a daze for who knows how long. 

Nora only nodded before Bart informed his father and mother on what to do and then he ran into the pipeline to travel home and get Mia here fast. 

Iris helped Nora change and clean her hands of your blood, trying to talk to her daughter. All she was given was silence, watching the tears gather in her eyes before wiping them with the back of her hand and letting the cycle continue. 

Once Caitlin was able to stop the bleeding and get some blood, donated by Allegra who was the only match to your blood type, Barry brought Nora into the room with a chair that was as close as he could get it. 

After half an hour, Bart returned. Mia took a moment before hurling her stomach into a trash can. Bart went to pull her hair back before Mia caught his hand stopping him. She took a moment before looking at the boy. 

"Where are my girls?" Mia asked, her toe as sharp as a blade. Caitlin ushered her to the room you were in. Mia went straight to you and Nora. She took Nora's free hand, her fingers caressing her knuckles out of instinct and her other hand went to lay under the palm of your hand that Nora held. 

"I… I wasn't fast enough" Nora choked, turning to Mia. The blonde crushed down, her arm wrapping around Nora's shoulders. "Hey, baby look at me" Mia whispered "You did everything you could okay? We still love you just as much and nothing is ever gonna change that". 

Nora pressed her head against Mia's and sighed as they both looked at you. "It's just a waiting game now" 

You felt your eyes open only to shut them again. Stupid lights. You waited a moment before opening them slowly. After adjusting to the light, you turned to the weight on your hand. 

Your girlfriends sat next to each other, both holding your hand as they slept beside you. "My favourite future sister-in-law! Great to see you awake" Bart whispered from across the room. You only rolled your eyes at him. 

"Bart" you smiled as he walked over to you. "You took a hit for little ol' m" Bart gushed, hand over his heart in the most dramatic way imaginable. Family Trait. "Yeah, I'll take a pass next time. It's exhausting saving your ass" You groaned, rolling your eyes at the boy. 

Bart mocked a gasp, falling back onto the floor. The both of you let out a quiet laugh, careful not to wake up your girls. "Seeing as you owe me one Allen. Maybe you can help me out" You wiggled your eyebrows. 

"Only if you never do that again" 

When Mia's eyes opened, her head went from zero to a hundred when she didn't see you on the hospital bed. "Babe!" She shouted looking around for you and waking Nora in the process. "W… What?" Nora groaned, looking around stupidly without reason. 

"Darlings, I'm okay" You cooed, sitting in the iconic Wellsobard wheelchair you had heard so much about. Mia felt a weight on her shoulders lift as she walked over to you. "You had us so worried Bow” Mia cooed, kissing your cheek. You smiled at her, placing your hand on her cheek. “I have the most amazing girlfriends in the universe. I’m not letting anyone take me away from you” You looked at Nora, holding your free hand out.

The guilt on your sweet thundercloud was heartbreaking. “Thundercloud… come here baby” You encouraged her. Nora holds your hand, tears falling from her face. “I’m so sorry” Nora cried at you, her guilt too much to bare. With Mia’s help, you stood up slowly, hugging her with all the strength you had. “None of this was your fault, my love, I chose to be like you two, my arrow and thundercloud. We are in this together, until the sun stops shining” You told them both, a soft smile on your face.

“We love you so much Lightning” Nora sniffled, wrapping her arms around you and Mia. “I love you both two, now wheel me to the bubble room” You cheered softly, falling back into the wheelchair.

Nora and Mia wheeled you into the time vault. Their eyes lit up as they noticed the blankets and fairy lights strung around the room. “(Y/N) You didn’t!” Mia exclaimed, slightly angry that the girl went to this trouble. “Nah, Bart helped me out. This is the first time in ages we’ve been in the same time period with you two helping your Dads. I just want a night date with my girlfriends without some speedster or ninja getting in the way” You told them.

The two heroes kissed your cheeks, helping to the beanbags on the floor. “Okay then, what movie shall we watch first?” Mia asked you, falling right next to you. “I’ll get the snacks” Nora beamed, using her speed to leave her girls only to come back with bags of your favourites. 

“My favourite girls” You smiled

#nora west allen x reader #nora west allen imagine #nora west allen #mia smoak x reader #mia smoak imagine #nora west allen x mia smoak x reader #the flash imagine #poly couple stans

[inlocusmads]

"We're A Serious Workplace!" ~ trystan x nora

More quick drabbles. Using @choicesfebruary2024 prompt "Eros"

wc: 1k-ish, teen and up

____

“Why is it called a Cupid's arrow anyway?”

“Hm?”

Nora lowered down the newspaper. She'd gotten side tracked five times now. What she was supposed to be doing was scouting potential clients and contacting them to help them with their missing hats, books, trolleys, strollers, you get the idea. Business has been slow these days. It was only after February 16th did you get the momentum going, categorically speaking. 

“Cupid's arrow. Why an arrow?”

“Well I suppose it has something to do with the story of arrows used commonly in Greek and Roman battlefields. Clearly was some kind of an -- important weapon to the Gods.” Trystan shrugged, drumming his fingers against the table thoughtfully. “Or maybe it is to show that love is blind. Since he appears to be blindfolded.”

“Doesn't that defeat the purpose of the arrow? It is all precise and everything.”

“You know what, I have no idea. It presents this moral argument.”

“Which is?”

“You cannot possibly punch them with love, can you?”

“And shooting people with bewitched arrows is somehow okay?”

“It hurts a lot less I am assuming. Magical arrows, different types - does it even pierce through the person's skin?”

“Most of the time it hits them like a paper ball or something.”

“Harmless. Exactly.”

“Still, arrows being associated largely with battles - is not exactly harmless.”

“Archery has evolved into a novelty sport.”

“Well so is -- uh, everything. Everything is a sport. Getting uh, groceries and -- uh, queuing. Jobs. Cellular services--”

“If that is your logic then everything is everything.”

Nora stared at Trystan before folding her newspaper.

“This is turning into an existential crisis.”

“Fair enough.” 

“I still don't understand it.” Nora shrugged. 

“Maybe it is not for us to understand.” Trystan started. “Love is this -- balloon people constantly pump air into. It does not need to consume every single aspect of our lives but it does. We love the things we do, the people around us - we love the deep seated dislike we have even though we cannot articulate it. We embrace contempt, we love to hate, we love to love and -- the balloon just keeps rising and rising with the air in and one day it shatters. And that's when you know you need to stop questioning things and just -- take where the river lets you go -- ouch! What was that for?”

Trystan massaged his shoulder where a scrunched up paper ball had landed squarely against it. 

“Proves my point.”

“Which is -- to attack me? I am appalled at your lack of sense of sympathy during these trying times.”

“No, I mean - Cupid should just use paper balls.”

“You can't possibly aim right with a paper ball.”

“I could aim left though. It's such a stupid joke, I'm sorry.” Nora reached into her drawer of torn pages and made a nice compact stone-like structure for optimal pelting purposes. She tossed it to her left. It bounced a little off the door and landed squarely inside the waste paper basket. 

“Beginner's luck.”

Nora threw her hands up in exasperation. 

“Fine. Professional’s luck.”  Trystan stood up to face her desk. He grabbed a book off the shelf. “I am going to hold this as still as I can. I am certain you cannot possibly land it on top of that cabinet right there.”

“This is a workplace.”

Trystan raised his brow. He didn't plead but Nora let out a sharp exhale and got to her feet.

“Oh shoot I am out of paper.”

“What do you mean, your desk is literally full of them.”

“You want me to tear papers from files? Really?”

“Cupid would sacrifice his paperwork in a heartbeat.”

“Cupid doesn't work a desk job. He gets to prance around and shoot people and make them fall in love.”

“Isn't that such a dream job?” Trystan perused through the book in his hand, as Nora searched for something to throw. “You get to take breaks whenever you like and cause problems for everyone, while you get to take a nice, happy vacation. I think he deserves to get reimbursed.”

“In what? Roman coins? Togas?” when Nora should be asking, “Why reimburse him at all?”

He thought for a moment. “A really nice retirement package. Also you are stalling.”

“I am not. I can't find a good throwaway piece of paper. Everything has some value. Trash is important. Bills? Important. Phone numbers I should have saved on my phone -- pretty darn important and-”

“How about that paperweight?”

“Seems fair. Pretty lightweight. Almost paper with the whole paper-mache thing happening in the -- okay --” Nora readied herself and she hit the book right in its dead centre enough to leave an impact. However, Trystan did not anticipate the exact weight and the sheer amount of brute force it could supply that he pushed back against the paperweight, as if he were playing tennis. The thing flew past Nora's head in a swift motion, shattered through the glass and never saw its place on the desk again. They had bigger problems to worry about. The giant gaping hole in the glass window probably being a .. problem for starters. 

"Oh --- fuck."

For a minute there was silence. Two minutes passed and neither of them could breathe. 

“Mafalda is going to kill us.” Nora whispered. 

“Well. You could just -- draw the curtains back.” Trystan said, covering the scene up. 

“And what if she pulls back the curtain?”

“A raccoon,” he decided. 

“No raccoons are pretty big.”

“Small raccoons.”

“No, no, too -- implausible.”

“A stuffed dolphin. I have heard it is recommended to be very specific when you -- well, when the truth is -- when the actuality does not match up with the truth you -- saw.”

“I don't have a stuffed dolphin.”

“Can just be my Valentine's Day present to you.”

“What would I do with a stuffed dolphin?”

“It is a hypothetical situation! We need a tangible -- foundation! Now -- perhaps I can look up some material details. How strong is fur anyway?”

“Rats?” Nora suggested.

Trystan thought about it. “Rats infiltrating the office. No. It is an army of rats. No. Just one rat. It skidded down the table, jumped high up to reach the window sill and it ploughed through the window and down on the street.”

“Exactly. So it works?”

“Sure.” Trystan shrugged nonchalantly. “Want to go grab dinner?”

“Yes, sure. Let's go.”

____

Once again not tagging people because.. drabbles lol. Drabbles. Drabbles everywhere.

#trystan x nora #w:inlocusmads #crimes of passion #my drabbles

[ohlawdthebirds]

Sick Little Baby.

This was a request from the lovely @punkrockmads! Thank you so much for the request! My inbox is unfortunately closed atm, since I'm still getting back into the swing of writing and school is gonna start up for me soon.

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: None, unless you count a small mention of blood towards the end.

Summary: Abby is sick. You take care of her. Cuteness ensues.

Abby was typically a cautious person. She never left the base without at least three weapons, kept ammo tucked into the many pockets her cargos provided, and never rounded corners without first peering around them to make sure no one would run into her. So it came as a complete surprise when you met up with her in the stadium’s cafeteria and found her nearly facedown in her oatmeal. You slid onto the bench next to her, gently tapping her shoulder. She startled, shooting up and nearly toppling over her bowl. You were about to ask what was wrong when Manny beat you to it. He sauntered up to the table, a tray balanced on one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. “Yo Abs, you good? Hermana, you look like a Bloater jumped you.” 

It was true. The closer you looked, the worse Abby seemed. Her eyes were lined with deep gray shadows, there was a red tint to her nose, strands of dirty blonde stuck to her sweaty forehead, and her breathing was labored. You placed the back of your hand against her forehead and confirmed your suspicions- she was sick. “Oh, my poor, sick little baby.” You scooted the tray away from your girlfriend, looped both arms under hers and tugged her from the table. Abby grunted, shifting away from your touch. “M’fine,” she wheezed, “It’s just a cold.” “Abby, your forehead is burning up and you can barely stand. You probably have the flu, my love. Manny, could you go tell Issac his super soldier won’t be reporting for duty today?”

Manny nodded, promising to do so once he finished his breakfast. Abby squinted down at you. “What about you?” “You’re in luck, sweetness. I just so happened to have today off.” You lugged Abby back to her room despite her protests and made her sit on the bed. “Where are you going?” She whined as you walked back to the door. “I’m gonna go see if Nora has any cold and flu meds.” “Great, I’ll go with you! I need more bandages anyways.” Abby attempted to stand before a wave of dizziness hit her and she stumbled forward. You lunged out and caught her by the shoulders before she chipped a tooth on the floor. 

You sat Abby on the bed again. “Dude, are you crazy?! You have a fever, there’s no way I’m letting you out of this room until you get better.” Abby’s bottom lip jutted out, a move she only pulled when she wanted to convince you of something. “Babe, I’m fine, honest. Just lost my balance a little. The trip won’t even take that long!” You doubled down. “Exactly! You just lost your balance! I’ve seen you hold a plank for 10 minutes, you don’t ever lose your balance! Just stay here, the trip won’t even take that long. In the meantime you should take a shower or something. You stink.” Abby sniffed at her shirt and grimaced. “Okay, okay. Yes ma’am.” Tossing you a mock salute, Abby lumbered off in the direction of the bathrooms while you scurried off to find Nora. 

You jogged back towards Abby’s room, arms full of the meds Nora was thankfully able to secure, a few soup cans lying around the community pantry, and bags of Abby’s favorite peppermint tea. The door opened to reveal Abby curled up in her bed with a blanket over her lap. A well-worn paperback was between her massive hands, the damp ends of her freshly washed hair almost brushing the pages. She looked up as you stepped into the room. You set everything on the counter before once again laying your hand against her forehead. She leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering shut. “Your hands are sweaty.” She murmured. A huff of air escaped your nostrils in lieu of a laugh. “C’mon sweetness, let's get you these meds and straight to sleep.” Now it was Abby’s turn to huff out a laugh. “There’s nothing straight about us.” You snorted at that and moved to get the meds and a glass of water. You handed everything to your girlfriend before moving to get into the bed with her. A theatrical gasp left Abby, who moved to wrap you in her tree trunk-esque arms. “You aren’t worried about me getting you sick?” You snuggled deeper into her arms. “I’m actually hoping you get me sick too. I want a few days off.” Abby let out a belly laugh that quickly dissolved into a coughing fit. Once she calmed down the two of you resumed cuddling, Abby having pushed her book into your hands. “Can you read to me? Your voice makes me feel better.” Your face warmed at that and you pressed a kiss in the space between Abby’s eyes.

The both of you shifted around until Abby had her head in your lap and you had the book out in front of you. You began reading out loud, only stopping once to comment on your lover’s choice of literature- “Really babe? You’re into bodice rippers? I mean seriously, this has got to be some of the most toe-curling, back-arching smut I’ve seen in a while.” Abby only buried her face in your lap and hacked out a combination of laughs and coughs.

The rest of the day was spent napping, sipping soup you had warmed straight from the can, and reading aloud from the novel in your hands. The light from the window slowly faded into oranges, reds, and yellows while two mug of freshly brewed tea sat on Abby’s nightstand. Your lover picked at the hangnails protruding from her calloused fingertips, a habit she wanly promised to stop when she noticed you staring at the tiny beads of blood that occasionally pooled around her cuticles.

All too soon, the book was finished and the both of you were seemingly exhausted, though your workload for the day had been light. You shifted to turn out the light that was switched on earlier but found yourself stuck in place. Abby, in her sick stupor, had you in a vice-like grip. You already knew from past experience that escape was near-impossible unless you tickled her under the armpits. But, seeing as how she was still fever-ridden, you decided to be a just and merciful girlfriend and let her sleep. You swept back the hairs that hung in Abby’s face, laying your head on the pillow right next to hers. A kiss was pressed between her brows, eliciting little more than a sleepy grunt from her lips. You smiled. You knew tomorrow would likely be a barrage of sneezing, coughing, and sleeping. But Abby was yours to take care of. After all, what else were apocalypse girlfriends for?

#abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson #tlou2 #the last of us 2

[ashendalia]

tfw when you have a thought in your head and it turns into a 1k word ficlet

Have a small thing about Nora at Lake Acuity

TW: slight suicide ideation near the end

_____

The snow crunched beneath my feet as I stepped closer to the lake in front of me to get a better view of it. I stopped at the edge of it, scanning the perimeter to see if there was anything useful in the water or on the ground that I could easily grab and throw in the pack I was currently toting.

I wasn’t usually one to travel so close to a settlement out of fear of causing trouble, but Ingo had been tasked with gathering quite a fair number of materials and items in the wild and I still needed to repay him for the time he saved my life during a blizzard. He also had always been kind to me whenever we met and spent time together, so I suppose a part of me just wanted to help him just because as well.

Lake Acuity I believe they called it. It’s pretty, especially with all the snow surrounding it.

After a moment of staring at the water, I briefly looked around to see if there was anything useful lying on the ground. A few ore deposits caught my eye, but I hadn’t brought Vesta with me so I had no way of breaking them open to collect the materials. “Nothing…” I sighed as I looked back at the lake and saw a Basculin peeking out of the water before quickly diving back down and swimming away.

“SQUAWK!!!”

A shrill screech pierced me from behind and I barely had enough time to turn and see a Rufflet aggressively flying towards me, claws and beak poised to strike as soon as it was in range. I stumbled to the side and barely avoided its attack as it blew by me, and watched it quickly change direction back towards me to attempt another attack. “Shit shit shit…” I panicked as I looked for anything to use to defend myself with, but there was nothing but snow on the ground.

Just snow. Snow. Snow!

I scooped up a pile and packed it as tight as I could, forming something akin to a ball shape. I did my best to aim in the small space of time I had before the Rufflet reached me again and threw it as hard as I could muster. Thankfully my aim was on point today and I saw it make direct contact with the bird, causing it to squawk and fall to the ground in shock. It hopped back on its feet a moment later, but now it seemed dazed and confused by what had just happened.

“Listen here you little shit!” I shouted at it, causing it to hop in surprise, “I’m not here to bother you so how about you leave me alone before I peg you in the head again! Because I will!” We stared each other down for what seemed like forever, but finally the Rufflet backed down and begrudgingly flew over the cliff and out of sight. For some reason I decided to follow it, probably to make sure it was actually leaving and not just going to find help to attack me again. I stood at the edge and watched for it to pop up again, but it didn’t.

I felt a small stone slip from beneath my foot and quickly stepped back and stared down as it fell down the cliff, grazing the side once before finally hitting the water with a barely visible splash at the base of the waterfall.

That could’ve been me just now.

The thought lingered in my head as I continued to look down at the water below. It was a long way down from here. Any creature that couldn’t fly or climb the rocky walls would surely try to avoid standing so close to the edge in fear of falling off.

I wonder if a fall from this height would kill me. I mean, if not from the impact, then surely the freezing temperature of the water would.

I continued to ponder this for some odd reason. Ponder how I could just take one step and find out the answer here and now. That maybe finding out the answer wasn’t such a bad idea right now because the life I was living right now was its own form of hell. My foot slid forward ever so slightly, and some snow fell over cliff.

That could be me next. Maybe it should be me next. Perhaps I’ll let it be me n-

I smiled and a small laugh escaped my lips. He was trying so hard to keep his voice down, but at the moment was failing spectacularly. It was endearing to be honest. “I thought I might find something up here, so I decided to take a peek.” I replied, “But all I found were rocks I couldn’t break open and a headstrong Rufflet trying to fight me.”

“NORA! THERE YOU ARE!” A booming voice brought me back to reality and I turned away from the cliff, seeing Ingo walking towards me. I waved slightly and made my way towards him, pushing my previous thoughts to the back of my mind. “I’m surprised to find you all the way up here!” He said to me once we had reached each other, “You usually don’t like traveling through such open locations if I recall correctly!”

“Ah yes, they do tend to be very eager in that regard.” Ingo nodded in agreement, having had some experience with them himself. “Oh, right!” His train of thought suddenly shifted, “I was looking for you to let you know that I’ve found an adequate amount of materials for the settlement! So, we can head back to my hut now if there isn’t anything else you need to do out here!”

“That sounds good to me.” I replied, and felt my smile grow bigger when I watched him attempt to smile back and instead make a face that reminded me of a Glameow. He nodded and the two of us began to make our way down the mountain and back to his hut on the outskirts of the settlement.

I’m not ready to give up quite yet. Right now I’ll keep going…for him.

#my art #self insert #self ship #self ship writing #self insert writing #pla nora #tw suicide ideation

[nora-ren]

BOOP! Thank you for nearly 1k followers! Please accept this super silly messy Renora doodle as a token of my appreciation! Hehe.. Maybe one day ill continue with it on my tablet and color it in/fix it up. 💜💜💜

#renora #nora valkyrie #lie ren #my doodles #my art #its messy i know #im sorry #everything needs fixing #ill prob color it in soon enough #for when i truly hit 1k hehe #im at ~980

[litwitlady]

Fic Writer Interview

NOTE: This will prove interesting since I deleted half my fic on AO3.

Tagged by: @lambourngb - <3

Name(s): Brooke, ALovelyLitwit on AO3, litwitlady on Tumblr (other names on other sites that I’m never sharing here)

Fandom(s): The ones where I’ve written multiple stories include - US QAF (20 years ago), The Walking Dead, and Roswell New Mexico. 

Where you post: Tumblr and AO3. I have posted on LJ, FFN, and Mibba in the past.

Most Popular One-Shot (by kudos) This year: To be clear, I am in no way a popular author. RNM has been a strange fandom to enter, especially having entered at the end of S2. So my most popular one-shot (pre-purge and post-purge) is ‘Day into Night’ with 167 kudos. It was the first fic I published on AO3 back in May. So everything has been downhill since then! I almost want to count ‘this godforsaken mess’ because it has 175 kudos which were mostly gained from the first part. (I entirely regret the second chapter, lol). If we are expanding outside of RNM, my most popular one-shot was a Joe x Nicky fic ‘Deceit’ which has 300 kudos.

Overall: It’s probably a TWD fic, to be honest.  (Again, there’s the Joe x Nicky one-shot.)

Most Popular Multi-Chapter (by kudos) Overall: Absolutely a TWD fic. Maybe even the RPF fic I wrote a few years ago for a friend and buried on the internet where you’ll never find it. My most popular RNM fic got deleted a couple of days ago. It had 302 kudos. I doubt I’ll ever write anything for RNM that gets 300+ kudos ever again. The only reason that one got 300+ kudos is because I wrote it for the prevailing fandom attitude of idolizing Alex while throwing Michael under the bus. That will get you kudos your writing didn’t earn every time. My writing on its own struggles to get 200 kudos. After the purge, ‘Cosmic Clowns’ is the most popular RNM fic at 242 kudos. I’d love for ‘Send Me Home’ to beat ‘Clowns’, but I’m not holding my breath. 

This year: See above.

Favorite story you’ve written so far: Easy. ‘Send Me Home’. It’s self-indulgent and has so many of the things I love in it. Michael-centric, an Alex Michael deserves, baseball, Danny and Lena. I’ve never written AU for any other fandom ever. I’ve always hated them - never even read them. But S2 really sent me down a path away from the shitshow that is canon.

Fic you were nervous to post: Every single one. ‘Send Me Home’ is a mixture of nerves and excitement because I love it so much and any word against it makes me want to never write again. Smut of any kind is hard. The last chapter of ‘Date Nights’ (Alex’s Bed) was scary because I wanted the conversation about Tripp/Nora to be perfect. Plus, it goes against the widely-held fanon opinion that Tripp and Nora are cosmic soulmates. Being an unpopular writer (in terms of kudos, hits) is tough because the mean voice inside your head doesn’t even come close to being quieted by feedback from your readers. 

To be clear, I love the feedback I get! Y’all are so sweet. 

How do you choose your titles?: Lower case titles are generally song lyrics. Upper case stuff I come up with on my own. Sometimes it’s from a line or very specific idea in the story. Other times it’s just nonsense that feels ‘correct’ somewhere in my gut.

Do you outline?: No. I am a sit down and start writing person. A pantser, through and through. I always have the next 2-3 scenes in my head though. If I outlined everything, I would lose momentum because I would feel like the outline was the story and I was done. The energy would whoosh away from me as soon as the last bullet point was complete. My brain is a WILD place.

Complete: I wrote over 100 pieces of Malex nonsense this year. 50 or so remain on AO3. Most of those were ficlets of less than 1k words. 

In-Progress: ‘Send Me Home’ - hoping to complete during the first months of 2021. ‘Date Nights’ - hoping to complete by end of 2020. ‘Whatever Walked There, Walked Alone’ or Ghost!fic - hoping to complete maybe????? It might take me until next Halloween though!

Coming soon/not yet started: Thanks to a group of sweet enablers with great ideas, the Malex neighbors AU where Michael is a romance author is on my list to work on once I complete ‘Send Me Home’. That idea came to me because all of my ideas are dead and gone. I was worried I’d never have another story idea, and so I sat down one day to force myself to think of something. That’s the idea I came up with. And I really like it! 

If I’m being honest, there’s a part of me that wants to retire from writing fic altogether. RNM has so many extremely talented writers that it’s easy to talk myself into leaving the storytelling to them.

Prompts?: Umm...I deleted all the prompts that were in my inbox. Sorry. 

Upcoming work you’re most excited about: Finishing ‘Send Me Home’ is the writing I’m most excited about. The neighbors AU sounds great in theory, but I won’t feel real excitement for it until I start writing and know that I’m capable of telling the story.

Tagging: Anyone and everyone

#fic writer meme #spilled some tea #i'm in a very weird writing place at the moment

[im-captain-egg]

Masterlist

Harry Potter

Bedroom Eyes (E, 1.4k, Wolfstar) ”You’ve been giving me bedroom eyes for the past half an hour now, Sirius,” he said. “Wanna show me what you were thinking about?” Remus asked hoarsely, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

Our Friends Are Idiots (E, 2.8k, Wolfstar) James and Peter think that their best friend is in trouble but Sirius thinks that they're idiots. All he wanted was some sexy time with his hot werewolf boyfriend.

i don’t want to be your friend, i want to kiss your lips (E, 3k, Wolfstar) Remus tried to find the right words. He had played this out in his head a thousand times, had imagined how it would be to finally admit his feelings, to tell Sirius. But now, all the words were gone, his thoughts filled with nothing but Sirius.

i’ll make the moon shine just for you (not rated, wip, Wolfstar)

Punny Little Thing Called Love (T, 1.2k, Wolfstar) Three times Sirius gives Remus a stupid nickname and one time he doesn't.

breaking through the atmosphere (E, 2.1k, Wolfstar) Sirius struggles with being locked-up in 12 Grimmauld Place but Remus is there to take care of him.

sit still, look pretty (E, 1.5k, Wolfstar) Remus is a tease but Sirius doesn’t mind.

tell me about last night (M, 1.9k, Wolfstar) In which Remus Lupin drinks too much and hooks up with Sirius Black, captain of the university’s Polo team and Remus’ long-time crush. Awkwardness ensues the next morning.

waves (E, 6.6k, Wolfstar) Hell breaks loose at 12 Grimmauld Place and an injured Sirius Black seeks refuge at the Potters.

A Purrfect Match (G, 1.6k, Wolfstar) When Remus walked into the shelter that day, he expected to leave with a new furry companion and not meet the love of his life.

bewitched you in the moonlight (T, 4k, Wolfstar) Sirius is absolutely smitten by an adorably awkward Remus dressed as a werewolf.

Lightning in a Bottle (M, 11.1k, Wolfstar) 29-year-old businessman Sirius Black finds himself falling in love with 23-year-old art student Remus Lupin, who turns Sirius' life upside down in a matter of seconds.

Red, White & Royal Annoyance (T, 3k, Wolfstar) A royal wedding, two rivals, a kiss in the garden.

The Big Birthday Cake Catastrophe (T, 1.5k, Wolfstar) Sirius and James attempt to bake a birthday cake for Remus when disaster strikes.

Of Sharks, Manatees, and Master Matchmakers (T, 2.1k, Wolfstar) Remus works at an aquarium where he meets Sirius, a guy with a PhD in marine biology who can talk to sharks and thinks that Remus' lanyard is funky.

Red, White & Royal Blue

Paris Nights / New York Mornings (E, 1.7k, Alex/Henry) Henry is stuck in a hot hotel room in Paris and Alex is more than happy to keep him company.

smoke and mirrors (E, 3.1k, Alex/Henry) Henry owns a blue suit that drives Alex crazy and Henry thinks that the baby blue tie just looks too good around Alex's wrists.

Honey and Lemons (G, 668, Alex/Henry) Henry has a cold. Alex is there to take care of him.

Champagne Bubbles (T, 788, Alex/Henry) When Alex comes home from work, Henry has a surprise date planned for them.

David and the Case of Finding Furever Home (G, 1k, Alex/Henry) It's another normal day at the shelter for Alex until Henry walks in.

Night at the Lake House (T, 599, Alex/Henry) Henry goes skinny dipping. Alex thinks his boyfriend is the most beautiful person in the world.

Shower Curtains (E, 2.5k, Alex/Henry) Taking a shower with Henry is never about getting clean. Never.

you take my breath and steal the things i know (E, 56.4k, Alex/Henry) Alex hates Henry and Henry hates Alex—at least that's what Alex likes to tell himself. It all changes though when Henry comes to the States to film a docu-series with Nora and June, and Alex involuntarily gets to know Henry better, finding his world completely turned on its head by the end of it.

baby, it’s cold outside (T, 2.4k, Alex/Henry) A collection of all my drabbles for the RWRB Winterfest 2020!

dogs that bark don’t bite (T, 415) Alex was a weird kid.

notes from David (G, wip) A compilation of David having thoughts.

I will adore you until eternity (E, 4.3k, Alex/Henry) Alex got Henry two sets of lingerie and Henry is eager to try them on.

completely and perfectly and incandescently happy (G, 254, Alex/Henry) “What endearments am I allowed then?” Henry asks with a smile, cupping Alexander’s face with his hand and brushing his thumb across the sun-kissed skin there.

Tidal Wave (E, 4.8k, Alex/Henry) Rivalling captains Alexander and Henry have been neck to neck for years but their relationship takes a different turn when Henry shows up unexpectedly on the Claremont.

your mouth is a hurricane (E, 3.7, Alex/Henry) Drummers hit it the hardest, they say.

like fireflies (E, 5.7k, Alex/Henry) Alex and Henry see each other again. Featuring dark storage rooms, leather gloves, and a weird fuzzy feeling that simply won't leave Alex alone whenever he's around Henry.

to be kissed by you (T, 1k, Alex/Henry) Alex and Henry meet for a quick rendezvous before attending an official event.

like cherries and wine (T, 640, June/Nora) June meets up with Pez for brunch where she, literally, runs into a cute waitress.

she is my all, she is the one, she is (T, 1k, June/Nora) Nora struggles to find a fitting Valentine's present for her girlfriend.

can i call you tonight? (E, 7.8k, Alex/Henry) Falling in love with someone who lives an ocean away is weird. Especially if you are staying at their house and they stay at yours. or Alex and Henry swap houses and fall in love in the process.

shouting curses at ursa major (T, 1.2k, Alex/Henry) Sometimes, forever doesn't last as long as you might want it to.

Shifting Gears (E, 1.7k, Alex/Henry) Henry and Alex plan on taking a short vacation in Wales when a punctured tire ruins their fun. Or does it?

you’re the beat playing in my heart (E, 6.6k, Alex/Henry) Things between Alex and Henry get weird after Pittsburgh but then Henry invites Alex to London.

what is grief, if not love persevering? (T, 423) As suggested by his therapist, Henry writes a letter to his dad.

rosemary & firewood (T, 1.1k, Alex/Henry) When they brew Amortentia for the first time, Alex discovers something new about himself.

i hope you don't mind that i put down in words how wonderful life is while you're in the world (T, 827, Alex/Henry) "What do you love the most about Henry?" - "Does everything count as an answer? Though even that wouldn't be enough." Some of the things Alex loves about Henry.

spell my name with her tongue, like (uh) (E, 2.5k, June/Nora) Stuck at a state dinner, Nora decides to have some fun with June under the table.

i’ll tell you what i like / my wildflower (E, 2.6k, Alex/Henry) Henry takes Alex on a ride on a motorbike which quickly leads to something more heated once they make it back to the garage.

oh, honey, pray to me between the sheets (E, 2.8k, Alex/Henry) Henry comes home after being away for three weeks and Alex is very eager to welcome him home properly.

if they only knew how you talk to me when it’s just us two (E, 5.3k, Alex/Henry) With Henry being gone for a week to take care of things back home, Alex is left in NYC on his own but when he feels needy, Henry is only a text message away.

when he calls me pretty (E, 2.7k, Alex/Henry) Alex is horny and Henry is happy to help out even if they are an ocean apart.

Cherry Bomb (E, 3.1k, June/Nora) June gets a new lingerie set. Nora is more than happy to admire it.

One Last Stop

sugar & spice (E, 1.5k, August/Jane) August can't sleep. Jane offers to help.

Voltron

Birthday Boy (E, 2k, Klance) It's Keith's birthday and the boys are a little drunk and horny and utterly in love.

Song of Achilles

he touched my soul, skin to bone (E, 2.3k, Achilles/Patroclus) It’s Achilles’ birthday and Patroclus brought some figs for them to share.

#masterlist #my tag

[nomazee]

EVENT TIME EVENT TIME

how about.. 4:44am & dr. ratio? 🫡

AUGHH THANK U GWEN i lvoed writing ths..... first time writing dr ratio be gentle on my fragile soul

my 1k event!

—°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.—

When Doctor Veritas Ratio walks into his very-private, very-locked, very-secluded study, he’s greeted with the unfortunate sight of you—sitting on the floor, an easel with a wide canvas set up low to the ground, oil paints sprawled absolutely everywhere. 

“What the hell are you doing?”

A sheepish smile pulls at your face, as if a sweet expression will get you out of the mess you’ve made of Ratio’s personal space. It’s far too late— late? Too early? Regardless. The hour of the night-slash-morning that you’ve decided to paint in his room is not appropriate at all. 

“I can explain,” you say, followed by a complete lack of an explanation as the two of you stew in silence for another half a minute. 

“Why are you even awake at this hour?” Ratio scoffs, stepping around you and your hazardous art set-up as he places some irrelevant stack of books on his (thankfully untouched) desk. “You should’ve been in bed a long time ago. Soon you’ll experience delirium from lack of sleep.” 

“Oh, please,” you argue, swatting a hand in his general direction playfully as you turn back to your canvas. It’s full of nauseating color, clear shapes and lines that don’t blend together in the slightest, vague animal-like forms that overlap with each other. “You’re awake too, aren’t you? Unless I really did hit delirium, and you’re just some Veritas-ghost floating around in my subconscious.” 

Ratio does not get a kick out of your very funny joke. An annoyed huff escapes him, tainted with something like weariness and exhaustion. Your eyebrow twitches. 

“And to answer your first question,” you prattle on, mindlessly scrubbing dried paint from the side of your hand with a wet rag, before picking up a fan brush, “I’m painting. This room is really well-ventilated, which is nice, because it would be a shame if all the fumes got to my head and zapped away my few remaining brain cells.” 

That one gets a laugh out of him, probably because it’s at the expense of your own intelligence. 

“There are a hundred other rooms that are exactly the same as mine,” he argues, finally turning away from his pointless shuffling of materials on his desk and facing you, looking at you while he talks to you—you know, like a normal person would. “There was no reason to infiltrate my own private study for your… painting. The door was locked, too. How did you—” 

“Don’t ask silly questions, Veritas,” and you like the way each consonant of his name clicks against your lips and teeth and tongue, “I have my ways. Does it bother you that I’m defiling your good room with my frivolous fine arts endeavors?” 

“Ridiculous,” his face screws up in displeasure at your assumption that he’d be so elitist to deny you of your passion. He walks around your spread of supplies again, carefully, before kneeling by your side to watch you work. As much as he’s loath to admit, you’re one of his few soft spots, and it shows in the way he traces the lines of your paint with his gaze, and the fact that he has yet to kick you out of his room. “The humanities are just as important as any other field.” 

“Spoken like a true scholar,” you quip, trying to hold back the shakiness of your hands and the swaying of your body. It really is too late for this, but you’d slept through the day and felt much too awake by midnight. Setting up camp in Ratio’s room was a natural instinct. 

“Go to bed,” he says, commanding yet gentle as he tugs a paintbrush from your hand. He doesn’t touch your hands, never really does, but he’s gathering your scattered, wrung-out tubes of paint and the little containers of linseed oil hidden under the easel. “It does neither you nor your artwork any good to be exhausted.” 

“I’m not even tired!” you complain, dragging out your words in a whine as he nudges you with his foot in a wordless command to stand up. There’s something like a cot in the corner of his room (because he does sleep, sometimes, and often it’s between textbooks and files and loose leaf paper) and a cozy patterned blanket that’s definitely yours. 

“You will be tired the second your head hits the mattress.” 

“This is a really awful mattress, Ratio.” 

“Don’t complain,” and his tone is harsh but you know he doesn’t mean it, because he’s pushing you back onto the little sleeping corner and tucking you into the blanket, nothing short of kindness in his hands. “You still have to clean your mess in the morning.” 

Sure, you think, already drifting off. By the time you wake up, you know that your mess will be packed away in a neat pile, floor wiped clean and canvas propped safely against the wall.

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin

fill out my event taglist (pinned) or my general taglist (navigation) to be tagged in upcoming works!

#nora hits 1k #dr ratio x reader #dr. ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #veritas x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #veritas ratio #hsr ratio x reader #hsr dr. ratio x reader #hsr veritas ratio x reader #hsr fic #dr. ratio fic #dr. ratio #heart pounding in my chest as i click 'post now' with a shaky finger begging and praying that i did ratio justice #me when: i cannot accurately characterize anybody at all ever

[roseharpermaxwell]

RWRB FirstPrince Tech-Based Fun Recs

Texting, Online Dating, Instagram, Wrong Number, etc. Click below for my favorites!

my husband by @coffeecatsme. T, 750 words. This isn’t the first time Alex roped Henry into a TikTok prank—there are videos of there with millions of views and enough compilations of Henry’s exasperated face that it’s become a meme.

Or, Alex ropes Henry into the latest TikTok couple prank.

Toe the Line by @orchidscript. G, 1k. Henry plays piano while Alex studies. Alex gets caught live-streaming. Henry has a response handy.

swipe right on me by coffeecatsme. T, 1.3k. Henry is scrolling through a profile—a redhead with freckles and a toothy grin that apparently made gym his personality. Alex almost wants to cry when Henry swipes right. Then, there’s the brunette he swipes left on, the Asian man with a dog he lingers before he swipes left as well, and then—

Alex drops his pen on the desk. That’s his profile.

you and i go from one kiss to getting married by vibrantsaturn. T, 1.3k.

Prince Henry @PrinceHenryUK I adore you so much, darling. Never change.

 

Alex Claremont-Diaz @theagcd that's cute i would literally go to federal prison for you

call it what you want by vibrantsaturn. T, 1.9k. Alex Claremont-Diaz @theagcd

guys it's 3am and i just found henry crying to taylor swift in the kitchen in the refrigerator light i love this motherfucker so much

Prince Henry @PrinceHenryUK

She makes me feel things.

Alex Claremont-Diaz @theagcd

BABY SHE MAKES ALL OF US FEEL THINGS

william @alltoounwell

THERE'S NO WAY HE JUST CALLED PRINCE HENRY MOTHERFUCKER LMAO

or,

Alex live tweeting his favourite FirstPrince moments. That's it. That's the fic.

let's be friends (so we can make out) by eclvpsed. NR, 2.2k.

Henry Fox ✓ @HenryFox Thanks for the cover feature @gaytimes. New issue out now. 19K Retweets 26.1K Quotes 118K Likes

|

alex claremont-diaz ✓ @theacd no guillotine could take away the head i need to give him 76.2K Retweets 55.6K Quotes 462K Likes

-

OR, actor!Alex Claremont-Diaz publicly thirst tweets about actor!Henry Fox because he is a delinquent and a plague in every universe.

watch before it ends by @indomitable-love. G, 2.4k. He should be working on this essay so he can spend more time with Henry this weekend. He really, really should be working on this essay. But.

But.

Henry is going live on Instagram.

Bold Statement by regularis_vas. T, 2.4k. Alex attends Milan Fashion Week with Nora and June. they arrive outside the Dior fashion show and let’s say… Alex turns heads.

Or

Alex goes shirtless, Ellen nearly has a stroke and the internet goes wild. (So does Henry)

A Thousand Words by Thunder_Cakes. G, 2.5k. After that Han/Leia mural both their accounts go silent for a while. For months, actually. They’re both in therapy after Alex tried to post a selfie with June after election night and had a panic attack before he could hit “Share.” Suddenly the thought of sharing the details of his life and loved ones with the world is paralyzing. Wonder why.

or: Alex, Henry and what they choose to share of their life

spread (me on your) sheets by @everwitch-magiks. E, 2.6k. Alex creates a sex quiz to determine how well people’s bedroom preferences align with his own. After a night of too much tequila, he sends it to a lot of people.

One blond, blue-eyed respondent scores a hundred. - Also, companion fic Alex Claremont-Diaz’s Comprehensive Coitus Questionnaire by stutteringpeach (M, 2.6k). 

come pick me up by @smc-27. T, 3k. ‘I’m here for you’

He can tell that the person will receive that as a text message as well as in the app, which is a relief because sometimes people like, order rides then absolutely pay no fucking attention to the app. It’s really annoying to have to wait forever for folks.

’Thank you. I’m going through a difficult time currently, so this means a lot.’

Alex stares at the message he received, frowning, and then another comes through.

‘Apologies. I’ve lost all my contacts. Who is this?’

Oh, Christ. This is going to be awkward as fuck.

’This is your Uber driver. I’m outside.’

OR, Alex is an Uber driver. Henry needs a ride the airport.

freddie by @coffeecatsme. T, 3.3k. “Didn’t know BuzzFeed was still relevant enough to do interviews.” He watches a grin spread on Henry’s face, and the glint in his eyes is enough to tell Alex that whatever it is, it’ll at least be fun. “What?” he asks, tugging Henry’s hands. “What is it?”

“They just might be relevant enough for this.” Henry’s palms close around Alex’s cheeks, brushing his curls away. “They asked whether we’d be interested in doing a puppy interview.”

Something To Be Proud Of by @cha-melodius. M, 3.3k. Henry stares at the carbon copy of the email in his inbox and wills time to go backwards. Just a few minutes, that’s all he needs. Enough time to go back and keep autocorrect from transforming whatever he’d typed after ‘he’ in his pronouns after his name into… that.

(Or, an unfortunate typo in an email, lots of dick jokes, and the joy of finding yourself at Pride.)

how would you feel if i told you i loved you? by @waterloolovers. NR, 3.3k. He lasts all of five minutes before he’s opening the link to start a message to Alex. ‘I have been in love with you since the moment I first saw you, but I’m too scared to tell you x’

twitter fox hunting by alyaasca. T, 3.5k. In the middle of another war with twitter bots, Alex notices that the comment 'my pussy in bio' comes from a weird account and goes to explore. There is, indeed, a pussy in bio. A furry one. A cat named Snowflake.

well we're not here to fuck ducks by @dumbpeachjuice. M, 3.7k. Henry is looking for someone to help him with his duck study. He makes quite a serious typo in his 'All Staff' email.

kiss me through the phone by violetbaudelairequagmire. M, 3.9k.

[Unknown Number] *Attached image: a shirtless, tanned torso, cropped at the top of shoulders, holding up two brightly patterned ties* which 1?

Excuse me?

or, Alex accidentally texts the wrong number and then just never stops.

i would stay forever by vibrantsaturn. T, 4.5k.

Henry Fox @HenryFox I can’t stand him [alex covered in cake, flipping off the camera]

 

Pez  @likethesweets send help they’re flirting on the tl

 

Alex Claremont-Diaz @theagcd  you know i love a london boy

Three times is a pattern by @clottedcreamfudge. T, 4.8k. “Hi,” an amused voice says on the other end of the line. “You’re through to Alex at L&G. Can I start by taking your name please?”

“Henry,” he admits, although the lure of a false name is calling to him like a siren song. “I’m – look, how long were you on the line just now?”

There’s a pause before the man answers. “I’m legally obligated to advise you that these calls are recorded for training and monitoring purposes. Is that enough of an answer?”

Henry just about manages not to swear. “Thank you. Unfortunately that is very clear.”

“Great. How can I help you today, Henry?”

He wonders if they offer euthanasia.

One Number Away by smc_27. T, 4.9k. “Hello?” a confused sounding voice on the other end of the line says.

It is not Pez. Pez doesn’t answer like that. With the fanfare of “my dearest Hazza” or “my sweet prince” or “you absolutely unforgivable scoundrel.” Only the first of these has any root in truth or accuracy.

Also, Pez is not American.

“I’m sorry. You’re not…Not Pez. Right. I’m sorry.”

OR: Henry dials a wrong number. Alex answers.

if evil, why so cute? by everwitch. E, 5.4k. Alex’s cat hates Alex, but loves Henry, the Bookstagram influencer who’s on vacation in Alex’s quiet seaside town. And while Alex is pretty salty about his grumpy cat’s inexplicable affection for a complete stranger, he must admit he can see the appeal; Henry is fucking gorgeous. It’s why Alex follows him on Instagram in the first place. It's just, Alex had never thought he’d be officially introduced to Henry by his own goddamn cat.

Or: Henry takes a two-week vacation to a seaside cabin with the intent to read a lot of books. Instead, he has a lot of sex.

Are You Screwing With Me? by @rmd-writes. E, 6.5k. Alex is only downloading Grindr because he’s curious. It doesn’t fucking mean anything, right? And when he answers a call for help from a very hot neighbour – who has no business having a shoulder-to-waist ratio like that – he’s just being friendly. It definitely doesn’t mean that he’s going to discover things about himself that he’d assumed were just passing curiosity.

Or, the Grindr meet-cute AU

I hope you don't mind that I put it down in words by knowledgeiscake. T, 7.2k. NBC News @nbcnews Journalist Alleges First Son Alexander Claremont-Diaz Cheated with Him on Vice President’s Granddaughter Nora Holleran

An epistolary fic blending the book and movie verses where ACD gets outed by Miguel before Philip and Martha's wedding even happens

(Door)Dash to the Heart by bleedingballroomfloor. M, 8.1k. The man looks up when Henry opens the door. "Henry?"

Henry clears his throat. "That's me," he manages.

"Cool," the man says. "You're making me hungry for breakfast with this order, man. Which is bad for me, because my breakfast is usually just coffee, and there's no way I can drink that this late."

"Uh," Henry says. He's pretty sure dashers don't talk this much during orders.

"Anyway," the man says, handing the bag of food to Henry, "enjoy your night."

Five times Henry gets late-night food from his insanely hot DoorDasher Alex, and one time they get food together at a normal time.

Bake It Til You Make It by OrchidScript. T, 8.4k. The chaos dead-ended in a linked TikTok video. By the looks of it, just a pasty-faced white dude in a tee shirt with a mug of… something. Why that would be interesting to anyone, Alex didn’t know and didn’t guess. He rolled his eyes and clicked on it anyway.

“Are you serious?” He asked, a second later dissolving into laughter. The video froze, a small banner appearing over a stagnant image reading 'Man Pleasing Appetizers 1971'.

Blondie was a Brit, and Alex wasn’t going to lay there and say that didn’t do something for him. He’d come to terms with his bisexuality enough to know that made the stranger hotter — even just the littlest bit. Especially when the video started rolling again

Alex falls down the rabbit hole of an H.J. Fox's Tiktok videos, falling a little bit in love with the terrors and treasures of cooking past he finds there, while recovering from a sinus infection. Back in class and confronted by H.J. Fox -- Henry Fox, to be exact -- in the lecture seat next to him, Alex does what any normal, well-adjusted adult would do: He suggests his recipes, just to watch Henry make them.

Will Alex get to watch his cake and eat it too, or will he get something sweeter than hoped for? 

Amazed at How We Talk (Once, Successfully) by @sparklepocalypse. E, 8.7k. And, well. Fuck that guy. Alex isn’t about to rub elbows with people who can’t even stand to be in the same room as him.

Alex isn’t sulking when he sidles up to the bar and steals a man’s whisky. He also isn’t sulking when he obtains a second glass, this one neat. Or when he snags a large plate of canapés from one of the waitstaff and nonchalantly strolls out of the room.

(Movieverse; a riff on the trope that asks, What if Cakegate didn't happen?)

The importance of the 'recall email' feature by clottedcreamfudge. E, 9.6k. "What did that email even say?" Bea interrupts him again, and he glares at her.

"He was asking for an extension."

"Scandalous," she says drily, and he rolls his eyes, stealing the umbrella from her mocktail and wondering whether or not he could use it to end his misery.

"He... addressed me in a fairly comical way. It was quite rude, but apparently unintentional. We've all been there."

Pez nods solemnly. "I once called my tutor 'Carrie' when in fact her name was 'Carey'. Incredibly embarrassing. I couldn't look her in the eye for a week."

"Er, yes," Henry says haltingly. "Yes, just like that." 

Well It Ain't Missionary by @everwitch-magiks. E, 11k. Alex Claremont-Diaz, a ballet dancer, is asked to list his ‘favorite positions.’ His hilariously suggestive answer goes viral, as does the unexpectedly flustered reaction to it by the Internet’s very own FoxySexEd. So obviously, Alex has to slide into Henry’s DMs. How could he resist? When a man that attractive wants your dick, only a fool would pass.

Henry is surprising. He wants to be pushed around, thrown for a loop, and he wants Alex to do it for him. But whenever Alex tries to soften his landing, Henry clams up like he’s been burned.

Alex can work around that, obviously. He's a dancer. If you're gonna toe the line just right, pointe shoes are a must.

Or: Alex and Henry fuck. Not in missionary.

whenever you're ready by @tedddylupin. E, 12k. “Pez. Please, will you stop tagging me in TikTok thirst traps?” Henry asked as he stepped into his friend’s car.

Pez lowered his Gucci sunglasses on his nose, looking at Henry without anything obscuring his vision and just laughed before pushing them back up with his middle finger. “Don’t fucking lie to me, I know you love them.”

Or: the one where Henry falls in lust with a TikToker making pottery and leaves drunken thirst comments

once, successfully by vibrantsaturn. M, 12k. Grindr, once (un)successfully, etc., etc.

misdial by rizcriz. T, 13k. His phone starts ringing as he’s wringing the coffee out of his shirt in the tiny coffee shop bathroom. He groans, sliding his finger over the answer button as he pulls his shirt up. “June,” he says, as politely and patiently as he can muster, “Now’s really not a great time.”

A distinctly male voice that does not belong to his sister, says, “Er.” He drops his chin and looks down at the counter, where a blond haired beauty is staring up at him from a facetime call. In the top corner, Alex can see what the man sees; himself, partially shirtless, standing over the phone, his abs dripping with coffee.

Alex has no idea who the fuck this man is.

Or, the facetime call that changed Alex's life.

Everyone Knows Who You Are by smc_27. T, 26k. Look, it’s not that he doesn’t feel influencers deserve representation or have complex management needs. It’s just any time he’s met with an influencer, he’s not only had next to nothing in common with them, but he’s also got no bloody clue what they’re talking about half the time. It’s a world far away from the one he typically resides in. He deals with authors and musicians and the occasional up and coming tennis player or gymnast or swimmer. His niche.

He walks into Conference Room B and sees Alex Claremont-Diaz sitting there in a smart black button down shirt, unbuttoned just enough to be devastating but not inappropriate. Henry’s boss is there, too.

When Alex sees Henry, he smiles, but also gives a discreet look up and down. Oh, god. No.

We’ll Invite Something In by smc_27. E, 26k. Alex is grinning a little too hard.

This is absolutely idiotic and pointless and fun.

The cover of Hello UK with a photo of him pulled out and a photo of His Royal Highness Prince Henry Fox-Mountchristen whatever the hell the rest of his names are (Alex knows; he being a dick) with the admittedly stupid but flattering headline which reads: His Royal Highness: He’s just like us and crushes on Pres ACD.

Ignite My Heart by @absoluteaudacitywrites. M, 30k. “So, I’m making you an account and we’re going to swipe right on some men and you can thank me later,” Pez says.

The 'We met on Tinder' AU

RWRB YouTube Interviews series by @happiness-of-the-pursuit. M, 31k. Hot Ones, etc

Hashtag Soulmates by everwitch. E, 44k. Alex is perfect and handsome, the golden boy, everybody’s secret crush. So there is absolutely no way that he is the reader who screeches in caps lock every time that Henry posts as much as a drabble. There’s no way. Except Alex just closed his browser fast as fucking lightning, but not before Henry had gotten a good glimpse of the page Alex had open: AO3. ‘Don't Stop Me Now’, Henry’s current wip. The one that Henry literally just updated.

Sweet Jesus. Could it really be?

I only tag an author once per post, but I'm still figuring out firstprince author handles. If you see one I may not know or find a broken link, please give me a heads up!

Master List of RWRB FirstPrince Recs

Master List of Recommendations

#firstprince #rwrb fic recs #rwrb #alex x henry #red white & royal blue

[iambecomeyourvillain]

JES CONGRATS OMG THIS IS SO BIG 🕺🕺🕺

you deserve it jes i wuv you

hey could i maybe ask for some book recs?

you're telling mE? you're the one hitting 1k nina pLeAsE

but thanks I love you so much

alright here are some books from my tbr that I've wanted to read forever, you could give them a shot (and tell me if you like them)

the inheritance games - Jennifer Lynn Brian

reboot duology by Amy Tintera

All for the game series by Nora Salvaic

Legend series by Marie Lu

#nina and jesper adventures

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Makin’ Whoopee

Summary:  The Sugardrops are in need of a pianist, and who better to fill the role than newly-minted 18yr old Bucky Barnes.  The charismatic front lady known as Sugar gives him an opportunity he can’t refuse, in exchange for something precious; his innocence.

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x OFC

Word Count:  5.5k

Warnings:  18+.  Mentions of the state of racial relations synonymous with the 1940s, injury that’s speculated to be related to hate crime, plenty of flirting and smut at the end.

A/N:  One shot written for @the-omni-princess​‘s 1k follower writing challenge filling the prompt of Band AU.  Congrats on the milestone your majesty, and thank you for letting me take part :)  The character of Sugar is styled after Mae West with the looks of Rita Hayworth, Nick is based on comic book Nick Fury rather than Samuel.L. and the encore song is performed like Michelle Pfeiffer in The Fabulous Baker Boys.  Enjoy!

Cassidy’s Bar.  He’s only ever been in here once, when his cousin Nora had gotten married to that rat-faced asshole, Billy?  Bobby?  Barry? It was something ending in ‘y’, anyway, and that’s exactly what his Ma had said; why?

Turned out the why was babies and the who was Mr Rat-face and the when was, well, so far before the question of marriage that poor Nora was round on her wedding day.

They had the same seats at the bar, Bucky thinks, him and his uncle Tony.  One beer was all he was allowed the first time, but tonight, uncle Tony is on a mission.

“Happy Birthday, kid.” The older man clinks his glass against the one warming in Bucky’s grasp, a man’s amber fire to the boy’s weak beer. “Drink up and I’ll get you another before the band starts.”

Gulping the bitter draught down, Bucky feels it warm his guts, loosening knots inside him he didn’t even know were there.  It’s his third pint, and though he’s had beer at home, he’s never had more than one in a bar where the dim lights and choking smoke are making him feel woozier than the drink.  He’s never felt like one of the men and never thought of himself as one, not even now.

Whoops and whistles. That’s how you know there’s a dame on the stage.  She’s pretty, too, Bucky thinks, watching her slink over to the manager in a dress made of green satin and what looks like liquid suns dripping from her shoulders.  It’s much too classy for a place like this and Bucky wonders if she’s some Hollywood starlet fallen from grace with her auburn waves and lips as red as victory.

Stunning.  He’s changed his mind, there’s nothing pretty about her.  She’s sexy as sin and all the men know it, hell, even she knows it.

Tony is already pushing another drink into his hand as he leads Bucky to a table by the stage, a smaller glass that tinkles as he walks.  One sip and Bucky thinks the beer is better, this stuff burns as it evaporates off his tongue.

“Looks like we got ourselves a problem.”  The starlets voice is smooth and sultry, if a little husky.  “Sammy can’t play.  It’s his hand, see.”

Her dark-skinned companion is nursing a busted hand that looks far worse than just bloodied knuckles from a fight.  If Bucky didn’t know better he’d have said the man met with a car door, a hammer, or a vicious bootheel; integrated bands are something of a controversy, hell, integrated anything is.

“Great, just great!” The bar manager groans.  “So what am I supposed to do about it?  Can’t you do without him, sugar lips?”  The bar manager is a beast of a man; jaw like a tank and shoulders to match, buzz-cut that’s a remnant from military service and an eye-patch that lends nothing but intimidation to his demeanour.

“Gee, I dunno, Nick!” One hand fists against the sassy cock of her hip, she lets rip with the sarcasm.  “Can a piano do without its pianist?”

Nick scoffs wordlessly, chewing the end of his cigar.

“A girl needs a good ivory pounder.”  She says with a wink, her tone suggestive enough to make Nick’s ears turn red. “Sam’s my best guy.”

“He ain’t poundin’ nuthin’ for a while.”

“More’s the pity.” She sidles up to him seductively, there is nothing subtle about her play, even Bucky can see she’s trying to manipulate the man.  “You got any hidden talent around here you been keepin’ from me?”

In the moments between her wink and the soft glide of her hand down the front of his shirt, Nick’s face turns pink, then red, and he’s choking on smoke.

“Help a girl out?”  A tempting pout and the flutter of eyelashes punctuate her request.

“I’ll ask around.”  He says with a tight smile as the starlet turns with a sway of her hip and sashays away.

The gents in the lounge are rowdy now, after catching a glimpse of the much-anticipated leading lady. The call for attention is barely heard but word passes between the tables that they’re asking for a pianist.

“You should get yourself up there.”  Uncle Tony nudges Bucky with his elbow, an almost proud look on his face.

“Play piano in front of all these people?”  Bucky has never been the nervous type, but he is now.  He’s only ever played the piano for the family at home, and the teachers and pupils at the music school.

“Sure, kid!”  Tony claps him on the shoulder.  “You’re as good as any of ‘em.”

“I dunno, uncle Tony.” Bucky sinks down in his seat, almost sensing what’s coming next.

“Hey!”  Tony is on his feet, waving to the hefty bar manager. “I got a pianist!”

There’s laughter all around, because Tony sounds like he just said ‘penis’, and that makes Bucky even more mortified when Nick is suddenly stood in front of them.

“You play?”  Nick is gruff and down to business.

“My nephew.”  Tony hits Bucky on the arm with the back of his hand, a gesture that says ‘sit up straight’.

“How old are you, kid?” Narrowed eyes scrutinise, and Bucky blanches.  He’s old enough to be in here but he feels so out of place he still doubts he belongs.

“Eighteen today, sir.” Bucky steels himself.  He’s not going to be this nervous kid.  He’s Bucky Barnes, confident and charming, and most definitely not intimidated by a piano, a beautiful redhead and a burly bar manager (eye-patch or not).  At least that’s who he wants to be.

“And you play?”

Bucky nods.

“Come with me.”

Tony is stuffing the tumbler into his hand again and pushing him out of his seat towards the stage with a cheer.  There’s a bit of shuffling as Bucky finds his stride.  Chairs scrape out of the way as he passes and it feels like he’s walking the plank; shark infested waters are all around him, the men sneer a little at the sight of him, just a boy, being lead backstage where the starlet and her band are getting ready.

Backstage isn’t as glamourous as Bucky thought it would be.  The reception room is dingy and cramped, merely a glorified store room compared to the plush furnishings and flattering lighting that he imagined. Eight sets of eyes turn to stare at him as he enters behind the mountainous Nick.  He’s intimidated and starting to sweat but that’s the least of his worries when a swathe of red hair and green satin is invading his personal space.

She looks him up and down with a sly smirk.

“I know I like ‘em young, but I’m not one for wet nursing.”  It’s salacious, the tone she uses, almost like she’s purposefully trying to ruffle feathers.

“He’s not for your boudoir, Sugar, he’s for the piano.”

“Oh, why not?”  She winks subtly, pulling her lips into a playful smile.  “A man in the boudoir is worth two on the street.”

“Sugar…”  Another redhead chastises.  She’s older but there’s a resemblance, sisters, maybe cousins.

“Oh, alright, spoil my fun.” Sugar plucks the drink from Bucky’s hand, fingertips brushing lightly against him leaving a trail of goosebumps coursing up his arm.  Her eyes never leave his as she lifts the glass to her painted lips and sips.  “I always get what I want, eventually.”

She’s turning away from him and his glass is back in his hand like it never left, save for the scarlet red print that perfectly resembles the fullness of her lower lip. Bucky swallows.  She’s a dangerous woman and he knows she can chew him up and spit him out in ruins, but hell if he’s not willing to let her do it.

“Sam’s the name.”  The dark-skinned fellow interrupts, introducing himself and offering his uninjured hand to shake.  His injuries are hidden by off-white crepe and gauze now, out of sight out of mind for the rest of the band.

“James.”  Bucky clears his throat.  “James Barnes.  But my friend’s call me Bucky.”

“You read music, James Barnes?”  ‘Sugar’ levels a torturously flirtatious glance over her bejewelled shoulder. Everything about her screams seduction and sexuality; she’s unashamedly feminine but predatory like no woman he’s ever seen.

“Yes, ma’am.  I do.”  Bucky battles his nerves.  “And I can play by heart.”

Sugar turns, a slow blink fanning her long lashes against her rosy cheek before she’s dragging her eyes up his body.  “Show me.”

In the corner of the room is a busted upright piano that is much in need of repair.  It’s older than his grandpa’s but the keys are clean and it looks to work.

“You want me to play here?” He should have known there would be an audition.

“Scared to show us the goods, kid?”  And older gentleman with dark curly hair shifts in his seat, his hands are large and his fingers thick and calloused.  He isn’t stocky but he isn’t a beanpole either, and he’s got a nervous tick, just below his right eye which tells Bucky the man has a temper.

“Bruce is right.” Sugar purred, leaning closer.  “An ounce of performance is worth pounds of promise.”  Moist pinkness pokes playfully at the corner of her perfectly pained mouth, the teasing tip of her tongue then sweeps her upper lip deliciously.

Bucky jumps into action, if only to distance himself from the sight and scent of the woman who seems hell bend on turning him into a mess of jangling nerves and tight trousers.

The stool is hard but the perfect height.  Bucky runs his fingers over the keys, rippling out scales to test the instrument’s tuning.  His music school diploma kicking in as he opens the booklet of sheet music at the first page.

It’s a tense moment as he starts to play, finding that some of the music has been amended in a chicken-scratch scrawl, little finesses added here and there and a different tempo, but Bucky knows the song.  He bangs out Puttin’ on the Ritz, relaxing into the music as a tall mousy-blonde man in his late twenties, sits by the piano and taps out a percussion rhythm on the wood, and the older redhead starts to sing along.  Her voice is quite lovely, Bucky thinks.

Sam nods approvingly but Sugar isn’t completely convinced.

“Play me something you think I’ll like.”  She says. “From the heart.”  The last words are tainted with a sigh.

Bucky thinks he knows the perfect song.  It’s more of a joke than anything, the reason it pops into his head is purely because of her salacious innuendos.  It starts off a little jerky, as he plays some of the string and trumpet parts on the piano but when the tune fully kicks in everyone is laughing, even Sugar is grinning.  The blonde picks up the beat, tapping on his legs and the side of the piano, curly-haired Bruce is humming and boom’ping in time as a bass, and a tiny blonde kid he’d never seen plays a mock trumpet.

When Sugar starts to sing ‘Makin’ Whoopee’, it’s somethin’ else.  The cadence of her voice is just like she is, rich, velvety and incredibly seductive.  She comes to sit on the stool next to Bucky, swaying and snapping her fingers along with the music.  As far as impromptu jams go it wasn’t half bad, and the mood is suddenly lighter when the song is done.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises, James Barnes.”  Sugar adjusts a piece of his hair that has fallen out of his smoothly combed do.

“It’s just Bucky.”  He sighs bashfully, almost melting at her proximity.  Red lacquered nails and glistening red lips, soft cascading waves of copper leading his eyes down from her face to the sweetheart line of her dress and a scandalously deep cleavage he has no business staring at.

Suddenly he’s being pulled to his feet and introduced to the rest of the band.  Peter is the percussionist, he’s easy-going and a bit of a joker.  The little guy is Steve, he’s the trumpet player but, like Bucky, he can play a few instruments, just not the piano.  Bruce plays the double bass.  The older redhead is Natasha, she’s on backing vocals with another redhead called Wanda and yet another redhead called Gamora.  Bucky notices that Wanda and Gamora aren’t natural redheads but they all fit together so well it’s hard to notice from afar.

The lounge looks completely different from where he’s stood at the edge of the stage behind a dusty red curtain.  He can see uncle Tony drinking a pint and laughing with a guy at the adjacent table, no doubt talking about how proud he is of his nephew, god knows his daughter is a disappointment; poor Nora who got pregnant before she was married.

Bucky necks his drink. The ice has already melted but it does little to quench the burn of the whiskey, still, liquid courage eh?

Soon he’s being ushered out onto the stage with the rest of the band.  There’s a light smattering of applause and a huge cheer from uncle Tony as Bucky takes his seat at the grand piano.  Sam is there with songbooks and a list of tunes they’re going to play tonight.

“Any of these you don’t know?”  Sam hands him the paper and it shakes in Bucky’s fingers.

They’re all covers, of course, a small band can’t put out original songs in a lounge like this and earn a living.  They’re all fairly recent songs, too, keeping up with current trends.  Bucky knows them all well enough to play them by heart, but Sam likes to make notes on the sheet music to tweak the songs a little more to fit their ensemble.

Bucky scans down the list, smiling when he sees songs like Daddy, Blue Champagne, and Strange Fruit. He can imagine Sugar singing them, how wonderfully they will work with her voice.

“I think so.”  Bucky nods, confidence building through the panic because he knows he can do this.

Another glass of whiskey is set atop the piano for him and Sam is leaving with a reassuring pat on the shoulder, leaving him to stare at the crowds in the lounge, leaving him to the adrenaline and the nausea in his guts.

Suddenly there are whistles and whoops, that’s how you know the dames have hit the stage.  The three backing singers stroll on, waving and smiling brightly.  Bucky is surprised to see Wanda carrying a fiddle; she’s like him and little Steve, multi-talented.

And there’s Sugar.  He sees her before she’s clear of the side curtain.  She’s all confident strides, swaying hips and a non-too-subtle wobble at the sweetheart bodice of her dress.  He barely notices the crowd now all he can hear is the frantic thrum of his pulse whooshing in his ears.  His mouth goes dry as she makes eye contact with him and he feels as though she’s going to walk right past the microphone, right up to him, and show him what those smirking red lips can do.  

But she doesn’t, and her attention is no longer on him but on the crowd.

“Well, hello there Cassidy’s!  We are The Sugardrops!”  Christ she’s just as seductive when she addresses the whole room.  “My, my we’ve got some handsome gentlemen out there tonight, wouldn’t you agree ladies?”  She’s playing up to her girls and to the crowd.  “Tonight, for your entertainment pleasure we’re going to perform a few numbers.”

“YOU CAN PERFORM ON MY LAP, IF YOU’D LIKE!”  A drunken jeer erupts from the crowd, already the men are worked up.

Bucky glances from the dishevelled heckler to Sugar who is giving her most amused smile.

“Oh sweetheart, I’ve been in more laps than a napkin.”  She shifts her weight, popping her hip to the side.  “Yours ain’t nothing special.”

Laughter drowns out the spluttering heckler who is suddenly shoved into his seat by burly Nick, with the warning ‘behave yourself or get out’.

She’s incredible. Bucky thinks.  So confident and sassy.  He’s never seen a woman like her in his whole life.  She’s larger than life, and more alluring than a precious stone.

She clears her throat, pinning him with a stare.

Jumping to action for the second time at her request, he poises himself and waits for the trumpet to start the first song; Nice Work if You Can Get it.

Steve is good, he’s got good lungs for a scrawny kid and he blasts out an intro that’s picked up by Bruce on the double bass.  Then Bucky is joining in and Peter with the subtle snare and high-hat setting a swinging rhythm.  Sugar and the girls croon out the lyrics and Bucky finds himself joining in, bouncing on his stool with the music.

Before he knows it the song is done and he’s barely looked at the music sheet.  It all feels so natural to him, like he’s meant to be here with these people, on this stage, playing his heart out.  It’s been a while since he felt any love for music other than something to dance to, with a girl on his arm, maybe one who’ll let him kiss her at the end of the night, maybe one who’ll let him stroke his hand up to the top of her stockings.

Applause rings out and he can hear uncle Tony cheering.  There’s an exchanged grin and a proud nod from the elder man, tears in his eyes like he’s looking at his own son.  Of course, Tony only had daughters, so Bucky was special to him; a fellow man in the family.

Sugar is peppy as she sings, almost prancing around the stage, energised by the folks who are dancing on the dancefloor in front of the stage.

Hey, listen to my story, ‘bout a gal named Daisy Mae Lazy Daisy Mae Her disposition, is rather sweet and charming At times alarming, so they say

Glass empty and another replaces it, sitting in the same condensation ring that marks its predecessor; Bucky has lost count of the drinks as the songs have flown by.  The swell of emotion in his chest as he pounds or tinkles the ivories as desired, it’s almost euphoric.  So much so, he doesn’t notice Sugar sashaying his way as she sings.

She has a man who’s tall-dark-handsome, large and strong To whom she used to sing this song

She drags her fingertips up his arm as she sings, over his shoulder, neck and into his hair.  Then she spins, resting her back on his, dipping to her haunches and arching her back, earning whistles from the crown, a vicious blush from Bucky and a few fumbled notes of the tune.

Hey, Daddy, I want a diamond ring, bracelets, everything Daddy, you oughta get the best for me

Hey, Daddy, gee, don’t I look swell in sables? Clothes with Paris labels? Daddy, you oughta get the best for me

Bucky is already lost in the sway of her hips and the glistening red of her lips.  She’s singing about champagne and caviar but all he hears are the breathy moments in between the verses where she’s almost gasping for breath.

He can’t remember how many whiskey’s he’s had but he knows now it’s too many.  His skin burns and he needs air but all there is, is the rhythm of the music, the feel of the ivory under the pads of his fingers and a tightness in his groin that’s been building since she first levelled her glittering eyes at him.

Now she’s dancing around him, touching him, and teasing him with her sensuality, he’s already gone. He just prays the music comes out fine.

“You got one more song in you, sweetheart?”  Sugar is leaning over him, her lips brush the shell of his ear and her perfume permeates down into his lungs, heady and so perfect.  She’s got bare shoulders now, the bejewelled bolero jacket that was part of her dress now adorns the top of the piano with several empty glasses.

“One more song?”  He blinks up and her and she grins, stroking his face gently.  The crowd are calling for an encore and Sugar is thriving on their attention.

“Just one more.”  She assures him.  “For me?”

She doesn’t need to ask, he’s already caught in her snare, captivated by the desire in her voice and the heat in her gaze.  He doesn’t know if it’s real, but he doesn’t care.  He’s never been wanted like this by any woman, let alone one as gorgeous as her, and he’s never been so desperate to give a woman what she so clearly craves.

The rest of the band have gone back stage and it’s just the two of them out under the lights.  Bucky feels so nervous all of a sudden he could lose his dinner but when Sugar climbs up on top of the piano, legs curled to the side, he’s more concerned with avoiding the view right up her legs.

Bucky is about to ask, but when she turns to him and winks, he knows what song.

Tinkling the keys, he delves into a soft and seductive jazz melody that’s so perfect for her it’s like her soul is pouring out into the air.  Her grin is astonishing it lights her face up, stripping years off her like she’s closer to his age now instead of in her thirties.

Then she’s melting the words so they come out coy and teasing, and she’s flirting with her whole body; just enough leg, just enough cleavage, a perfectly-timed toss of her stunning red hair, and every time she says the words ‘makin’ whoopee’ his johnson twitches in his pants.  But she’s not doing it for him, she’s doing it for them, or she’s doing it for her, it really doesn’t matter who, he thinks.  She’s right there in front of him and it’s his music she’s moving to, his fingers making the notes that set her on fire, it’s him who she looks back towards and winks at subtly.

Later it’s him who she’s taking by the hand and it’s him whose lips are trailing down her neck. It’s him who is unzipping her dress and trailing his hands over her hips as he pushes the fabric to the floor.  He doesn’t know how he got here but he isn’t complaining, not one bit.

She’s a sight to behold. Her lips are swollen and smeared red where he’s messed her lipstick, and she’s panting as she strips him of his shirt. Once he’s down to his shorts, erection tenting the front, she lifts his hands to her breasts where the stiff fabric of a strapless number presses against his palms.  He stalls out, suddenly not sure what to do.  He���s never gone this far with a girl before, let alone a woman like her.

Her smirk is beguiling as she shoves him backward into a worn, ochre-coloured armchair.  His panic is momentary and he settles, sat forward, watching as she lifts her leg and with toes pressed to his chest, she pushes him back against the cushions.

The teasing way she unhooks her sheer stockings has a wet patch forming in the front of his shorts, the weeping tip of his johnson is eager.  When her legs are bare she turns, presenting him with her clothed bottom. Then she bends, oh so slowly. Dragging her knickers down, exposing herself to him.

She mustn’t know he’s untested in the boudoir (as burly Nick put it earlier in the night), or she wouldn’t be teasing him so much.  His brain is spouting words from the good book, somewhere in the depths; he’s never been one to listen but when they sound like his Ma he can’t help it.  Lead us not into temptation.

“Temptation?”  Sugar chuckles. Had he said that aloud?  “Why resist it?  There’ll always be more.”  She tosses her knickers at him and steps forward.

Straddling his lap she places his hands on her hips as she rolls her body, unclothed womanhood dragging against the hardness in his shorts.  Her bra is unhooked at the back and her perfect breasts spill forward in front of his ogling eyes.

“Touch me.”  She moans softly, spurring him into action.

Kissing his way down her neck and into the valley between her gloriously large breasts, he cups her in both hands and squeezes, rubbing his palms over her nipples until they’re hard. She guides him carefully, showing him how to pinch and play with them, not too roughly but just firmly enough to have her gasping.

“I’ve never…”  He swallows hard.  Bucky Barnes has a reputation as a man all the ladies swoon after, but he’s no match for a woman of her experience.

“I know.”  She moves against him, reaching down until her fingers reach her sex, and she’s stroking herself leisurely.  “I’ve known plenty of men who didn’t know how to please a woman.” She moans, sliding her fingers fully inside herself as Bucky watches, astonished.  “I’ve always found the time to teach every single one of them.”

She lifts her fingers to his mouth and he opens instinctively, feeling the salty sweet slide of her over his tongue.  Lips close around her and he’s drinking her taste down with a groan.  He wants to taste her again so he reaches down, strokes his fingers through the wet heat of her core, not brave enough to push them inside as she had, not yet anyway.  He smears her arousal across her nipple and brings it to his mouth, sucking and nibbling. Just like with his fingers, there’s a balance to be found in the playful bite, firm suck and soothing lick of his mouth.

Soon, Sugar is practically singing for him.  All her sassy flirtations are gone and she’s telling him what she wants.  Her nipples and lips are swollen from his attention and the front of his shorts are soaked with both his and her arousal.  The skin of her neck and chest is flushed red as she grinds against the finger he’s got buried in her womanhood.  The beckoning motion she’d shown him is making his hand ache but he’s too wrapped up in the beauty of her to care.  He’s never seen a woman orgasm before, let alone been the cause. He’s strung tight, excited beyond belief and she hasn’t even touched him yet.

Then he feels it; a tightening of the flesh around his middle finger.  She’s quivering with need, working so hard toward the release she’s desperate for.  It seems to go on forever, like she’s hanging on to the pleasure for grim death, but it’s just not enough.

Feeling bold he pulls back and gives her a second finger, pushing deeper inside her until he can feel the soft spot he was rubbing before.  Digging his fingers in harder, he braces his thumb against the hooded nubbin beneath the whispy red of her pubic hair, and squeezes.

Her wail almost stops him in his tracks but the look on her face compels him to act.  Harder this time he pulls his fingers against her, milking that sweet spot inside until he can feel the spasms start.  Her breathing is erratic and she’s gyrating in his lap, shaking and moaning as her body spasms around his hand.  It’s powerful, the way her muscles work and even when they start to die down, Bucky carries on.

“Too much.”  She stills his hand with her own.  She looks so beautiful, all flushed and satisfied. He wants her, wants to be in her, to feel with his prick what he felt with his fingers.

His mouth is on hers as he thrusts his hands under her thighs and stands.  She squeals and clings to him a moment before she realises what’s happening.  He’s about to deposit her on the floor of her dressing room when she halts him.

Bucky has never seen a condom before.  He’s heard about them; standard issue for the army to stop the soldiers from catching venereal disease, and to stop them from fathering children in every city they visit. Sugar winks as she rolls the rubber down his erection.  It feels strange and tight against his skin, and through it her hand feels less pleasurable but he moans nonetheless.

A multi-coloured crochet blanket is put down with a pillow from the armchair, and she lies back with her legs spread for him.  The reddened petals of her flower are on display and Bucky feels the urge to taste her. Of course she’s sweet, and slightly musky but less salty than when he tasted from her fingers.  Her legs twitch each time he licks past the hooded nubbin above her entrance, and he fancies that that’s the way he’s going to make her orgasm again.

And he does just that, with her hands buried in his hair and his fingers deep in her once more, pulling gently this time, he kisses and licks her until she’s shaking and moaning for him.

“I like a man who pays attention.”  She smirks as he stares up at her with a look that’s no doubt revering.  “I like a man who makes me scream even better.”

With her hand on his shoulder, she urges him forward until he’s hovering over her, afraid to lay his weight on her.  It’s with a throaty giggle that she wraps her thighs around his hips and pulls him down, reaching between them to place the tip of his throbbing prick against her heat.

“Don’t keep a girl waiting.” She slaps his bare butt cheek.  “I might go find what I need elsewhere.”

With a determined grunt, Bucky pushes into her, pushes against the resistance of her flesh, pushes into the pleasure that shoots down his prick and tightens something low between his hips.  It feels so much different than touching himself, a less intense pleasure but there’s more of it, singing to the nerves in his abdomen and all the way up into his chest.

Sugar rolls her hips, urging him to move, and with her hands on his hips and her feet hooked under his buttocks she guides his movement, drawing from him smooth deep thrusts that hit all of the right spots for her and have him seeing stars before too long.

“I can’t… keep this… up.” He grunts, slightly ashamed that he can’t last.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She arches her back and sighs. “I’m close.  Keep going.”

Bucky is panting heavily as the pleasure overwhelms him.  Sugar is writhing and moaning beneath him and he can feel her muscles around him start to quake.

She’s going to climax, he thinks with joy.  She’s going to climax while I’m inside her.

That’s it for him, the pulsing pleasure coursing down his spine, all around his prick and tingling over his scalp – it’s amazing.  He spills into the condom but continues to thrust into her until she’s spent.  Then and only then does he collapse forward with a disbelieving chuckle.

“This is the first time I ever known a woman like you.”  He kisses her lips but she’s already turning away, rolling him off her to get some air.

“If I have my say, it won’t be the last.”  She winks but there’s no gleam in her eye.  She lights a cigarette and falls back onto that god-awful ochre chair.

“I don’t know if I should thank you or worship you.”  Bucky notices that she seems diminished somehow, like her light has gone.

“I wouldn’t say no to both.” She’s looking up, not at him, as she blows smoke up to the ceiling.  “Are you free tomorrow night?”

“For you, yeah.”  He’s coming across eager but he doesn’t care. A lot of the effects of the whiskey are fading and he knows what he’s doing.  He wants to see her again, to feel her again.

“What about the night after that?”

“Yes.”  The condom comes free with a dull twang.

“And the one after that?”

“Sure.”  He’s pulling on his shorts.

“Next week?

“Absolutely.”  Bucky kneels in front of that horrific chair.

“Next month?”  She asks, and he knows better than to think she wants a relationship. Someone like her could never be tied down.

“I’m free whenever you want me.”  He flashes her his most charming and cheeky smile.

Her laugh is stifled behind that coy smirk she favours as she swings the leg that’s cocked over the arm of the chair.  Her naked breasts and her womanhood are unashamedly and fully on display.  Hell, if it didn’t send tingles of desire down into his gut again.

“Oh, I want your fingers alright.”

“Just my fingers?”  He flirts back.

“For the purposes of the contract, yeah sweetheart, just your fingers.”  The smoke from a long drag is blown in his direction.  “The rest can be our little secret.”

“Contract?”  Bucky balks, confusion sending a jolt to his chest.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” The gleam is back in her eyes, and her sultry smile teases the corners of her plush mouth once more.  “Welcome to The Sugardrops, James Barnes.”

#the-omni-princess1kwritingchallenge #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x ofc #1940s bucky barnes #band au #smut #bucky barnes loses virginity #fan fic #i write fanfiction #bucky is bae #makin' whoopee #long one shot #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fic #cloudy's writing

[spideymood]

I (@spideymood)  just hit 1k followers! So I dragged @tomsfireheart as we decided to host a writing challenge together as a celebration!

Rules & Guidelines:

3 persons per AU prompt

2 persons per song prompt

3 persons per dialogue prompt

You can write about Tom Holland (+ Peter Parker), Harry Holland, Harrison Osterfield, Jacob Batalon (+ Ned Leeds), Thor, Tom Hiddleston (+ Loki), Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson & Sebastian Stan (+ Bucky Barnes).

Only pick ONE official prompt.

You have to reblog to enter!

Ask @tomsfireheart (Myra) for the AUs with the numbers and @spideymood (Nora) for the dialogue prompts (with numbers!!). For song prompts, just ask one of us. Remember to tell us which pairing!

You can write from fluff to angst! Remember to put a trigger warning if you have one. PLEASE, NO SMUT AT ALL.

Tag @spideymood and @tomsfireheart in your piece, and also use the tag #myranorawc

Every entry will be reblogged by Myra and me, and also added in the writing challenge masterlist.

Write one-shots or series...it’s your choice!

You can start whenever you want from today (August 13th)! The deadline is September 30th!!!

You don’t necessarily have to follow us, but you’ll make us happy if you do!

If you can’t see the numbers for the prompts (the tumblr mobile problem) just send us the entire sentence/song/AU.

Have fun ;D We can’t wait to read your piece!

The prompts are under the cut:

Dialogue Prompts:

“Are you sure I can’t punch him in the face?” 1/3 - @musiclover1263 w/ Peter Parker, @sunshine112 w/ Harrison Osterfield

“Why are you avoiding me?” 0/3

“Should I be concerned about how much caffeine you’re taking in?” 1/3 - @cottoncandyparker w/ Peter Parker

“Can you bring me some bullets?” 1/3 - @hey-its-grey w/ Harrison Osterfield

“I need your help. You have to promise me that you’ll do it.” 1/3 @spiderboytotherescue w/ Peter Parker

“One down, ten left to go.” 1/3 - @gottaletgopete w/ Peter Parker

“Why are you so distracting?” 0/3

“It never works for us, and it never will.” 0/3

“I’m done. I’m done trying so hard only for you to never even look me in my direction.” 0/3

“Back then, I lied when I told you I didn’t love you. You needed to move on from me- I needed to protect you from me.” 1/2 - @starksparker w/ Peter Parker

“Somewhere deep inside me, I still hope you’ll fall in love. How pathetic.” 1/3 @heysliver w/ Tom Holland, @smallmarvel w/ Steve Rogers

“You’re cute when you’re mad.” 1/3 - @iron-spiderr w/ Tom Holland

“Don’t you DARE drop me!” 2/3 - @webfluihd w/ Peter Parker - @revengingbarnes w/ Peter Parker

“I love you more than chocolate, and that’s a lot.” 2/3 - @tom-holland-and-textposts w/ Peter Parker, @parkeroos w/ Peter Parker

“I love it when you call me that.” 1/3 - @underoossss w/ Peter Parker

“I love you is too simple to explain how much I need you.” 0/3

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand what I did to deserve you.” 1/3 - @thothollandd w/ Tom Holland

“So that’s it then. You’re just walking out?” 1/3 - @randxmthxughts w/ Peter Parker

“I’m doing this for your own good. I can’t risk hurting you again.” 1/3 - @theironholland w/ mob!Tom Holland

“Don’t say you love me! You don’t even know what love is!” 0/3

“How do you manage to piss me off and make me fall more in love with you at the same time?” 1/3 @marvelliz w/ Bucky Barnes

“Stop saying sweet stuff, it only makes me want to hug you, and I’m supposed to be mad!” 0/3

“Was this all a game to you? Swoop in with your charm and then break my heart? Well congratulations, you win.” 2/3 - @missymariee w/ Tom Holland, @darlintom w/ Harry Holland

“Please don’t say goodbye. I hate goodbyes.” 1/3 - @starksmile w/ Peter Parker

Songs:

Reforget by Lauv 0/2

One of Us by ABBA 1/2 - @spideymood w/ Tom Holland

When I Kissed the Teacher by ABBA 0/2

SOS by ABBA 0/2

I’ve been waiting for you by ABBA 0/2

Feel it still by Portugal The Man 0/2

Strangers by Sigrid 0/2

Rewrite the Stars from The Greatest Showman 1/2 - @carry-on-my-wayward-barnes w/ Enhance!Reader x Peter Parker

Tightrope from The Greatest Showman 0/2

Ghost of You by 5 Seconds of Summer 0/2

Roman Holiday by Halsey 0/2

crash&burn by Bea Miller 0/2

Garden by Dua Lipa 0/2

Tear In My Heart by Twenty One Pilots 2/2 - @checkthisoutmaybeifyouwanna w/ Tom Holland, @spideyboipete w/ Peter Parker

Location by Khalid 1/2 - @hollandandi w/ Tom Holland

I Wish You Would by Taylor Swift 1/2 - @itsholyholland w/ Tom Holland

New Rules by Dua Lipa 1/2 - @spideypeach w/ Peter Parker

AU:

Boxer 1/3 - @theclearblues w/ Tom Holland

Dad 0/3

Doctor 0/3

Nurse 0/3

Uni 1/3 - @notimeforthemessenger w/ Tom Holland

Roommate 1/3 - @spxderbarnes w/ Tom Holland, @onedustyboi w/ Tom Holland

Neighbour 1/3 - @rainbow-marvel w/ Tom Holland

Best friend 1/3 - @jewels2876 w/ Tom Hiddleston

Bartender 0/3

Barista 0/3

Mob 0/3

Royalty 0/3

Mythology 1/3 - @chamilsanya w/ Tom Holland

Demon 2/3 - @hollandroos w/ Tom Holland - @onlytomholland w/ Tom Holland

CEO 0/3

Assistant 0/3

Fuckboy 0/3

Fratboy 0/3

Soulmates 2/3 - @connorhero w/ Bucky Barnes, @supertight-tightywhites w/ Peter Parker

Fake dating 1/3 - @peterstrainingwheels w/ Peter Parker

Tagging mine and Myra's mutals:

@hollandharrison @lokiislowkeyhot @iron-spiderr  @notimeforthemessenger @thothollandd @upsidedownparker @peachyhollands @hazhasmycoffee @purespidey @peacholland @hollandroos @hazthediv @lustful-holland @sweetieparker @parkeroos @inlovewithmobtom @petalparker @loserparker  @rainbow-marvel @itsholyholland @revengingbarnes @starksmile @nasa-parker @cherryhollands @popculture-parker @bi-writes @valar--m0rghulis-valar-dohaeris @curlytoms @underoosbws @underoosstark @underoossss @cottoncandyparker @peters-vlogs @holland-haven @spiderboytotherescue @holland-ish @hollanderheart @starksparker

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[altaieu]

please refrain from reb/0gging

as im watching the dark skies shift to blues, the sun is rising on a household with one less kitten in it today. i can see no stars out.

amber died yesterday.

we took her home on friday, neck tube in and accompanied by medicine, after a 9 day stay in the hospital. we were going to try our hardest to help her get get better. we’d been making plans the entire time what we’d do with her when she was healthy again; that we’d definitely let them out next more next summer and make certain the garden had no places for pests, that i’d play with them even more than i did now, that we’d get them all health insurance. we bought her the cat bed we’d been lingering over at the store to make sure she had a very comfy spot to recover in. i’d woken up late on friday but i helped my sister with feeding her, giving her medicine. i was prepared to stay up all day saturday to help.

but she hadn’t closed here eyes since she’d come home, and what my sister thought was her sleeping - nictitating membranes half closed, paws twitching like she was dreaming - maybe have been a seizure in retrospect. though she took everything well, at 7 am she was having breathing problems. she was laying sideways on the floor with her little tongue sticking out, eyes half closed. we woke everyone up. we rushed her back to the hospital immediately. we talked about putting her down, and i’m sad we didn’t in retrospect, but we had never lost a cat before and we were so hopeful she could still turn around - twice while she was at the hospital she’d perked up and looked for all intents and purposes that she was recovering. she was such a strong, healthy cat before all this happened, it was hard to think she could just go like that, but as it happened it was just complication after complication that hit her. so we held off to give her the weekend, said if she didn’t look better, we’d be back to sign the papers.

it was not even 5 hours after we’d left her there that we got the call, around 1:30 pm. she’d nosedived suddenly and they tried to resuscitate her to no success - something my sister had said yes to out of reflex, but was going to phone tomorrow to say not to do, to just let her go. we went back and saw her little body. my sister cradled her in her arms, and every time she shifted in her seat amber’s fuzzy ears swayed just a bit and i kept expecting her to shake it off, wake up, blink up at us with those big, warm, adoring eyes she always had. her head was as cold as the wind outside when i pet her and i feel as if the chill hasn’t left my hand.

now my brain keeps playing that still face against those late night/early morning memories of her jumping up on my bed and my desk, smiling at me with that big wide happy mouth, bumping her head against mine and against the curtain until i’d open it and she could look out and she’d wiggle her big fluffy butt right between me and my monitor. her tail would always be straight up as she watched the shifting shadows beyond the glass and she purred like an orchestra. then she’d sit on my lap and make the cutest face at me, and i’d pet her a little, but because she always seemed to do this when i was absorbed in writing or art i’d pat her butt until she got annoyed and leapt off, skittering out of my room and down the stairs with the noise of a horse. i’d always felt a little guilty after that, and last time, in damn november, i’d made the promise to myself that next time she came to visit i’d let her sit on me and cuddle up as long as she wanted. it’s been barely 15 hours and already i miss seeing that fuzzy face pop up from behind my desk, that fluffy butt jogging out of my room. amber, i’m so sorry i booted you away when you were lonely in the mornings and just wanted to give and receive love from me.

there’s so many things i wish we did in retrospect (in retrospect, in retrospect). i wish i had pushed harder for a vet appointment when i first saw her so listless, but i always differ to my sister and she said she had no money for it. i wish we’d gotten all our cats health insurance so it wouldn’t have been as big of a cost as it was, that we wouldn’t have been so hesitant about a vet appointment in the first place. i wish i had convinced my sis to put her down when we were there in the mornning so she could have passed away in the arms of someone she loved surrounded by people she cared about instead of laying her head against the side of a small metal cage because we were too scared to let go of her. i’m so sorry amber, we did you so wrong.

when we were there in the morning a man came in after us, an old old man who looked to be in his eighties or so. he was there about a cremation for his african grey parrot who’d passed away the night before. he had a south african accent, and i heard him talking about how he’d been with the bird for forty seven years, that he’d found it abandoned by someone else. i saw him and an old woman bawling in the parking lot afterwards. looking back i should have taken it as an omen.

when we got back to the house the first time, around 11:30 in the morning, the cats were going crazy. all three were trying to get into my room. i wanted nora to stay out so she could comfort my sister, but maggie stood on my desk for 15 minutes staring with that kitty love face and headbutting me before she fell asleep on the bed by my feet. sassy, meanwhile, was absolutely losing it, running around the house and yelling with her unique, loud “mryow” sounding vocalization, eyes wide. should have taken it as an omen.

its weird to wake up at 3 am today to three cats. a time in the morning when i know amber would’ve come to visit, given her health back. its weird to walk down and not see her stretch her big fuzzy yellow belly into a croissant shape. i miss running around the house with the knotted shoelace and having her run after me at top speed, catching it and then running along with me as its in her mouth. i miss her closing eyes as you brushed her mane. i miss that little orange spot she wore on her head like a jewel.

i don’t think i can do anything downstairs without getting choked up about how she’d lie across my legs as i did anything. i don’t think i can get back to playing spyro or watching xfiles since she was there like that the whole time for those. i don’t think i can pick up arkham knight or aco again since i’d sit out in the middle of the floor for those and she’d come up behind me and bump my back, sit on my blanket, lay across one of my legs as i played.

i worry about my sister who cannot even lie in her bed without remembering amber there, sleeping on a pillow beside her, hugging her with all her legs. that cat got her through an abusive relationship and countless depressive episodes and the inherent trauma of being trans in a world that really doesn’t want you to live.

but like whether she’s in kitty heaven as my parents would prefer to think, or she’s my sister’s little spirit guardian now, or if there’s a kitten born on this day that might cross our paths again and bump our legs and look up, i hope she’s doing good. she deserves that at least, she was the sweetest cat i ever met and she should have got more than we could give her.

i feel bad for the hospital staff too. in her stay there she charmed everyone who crossed her path and they were all rooting so hard for her to pull through. one of the vets had her out in her office walking around for exercise on one of the days she was very perky, seemingly recovering. the one we interacted with yesterday was too kind, waiving the fees for the resuscitation attempts and refunding us the 700 we put down for the next few days of care that wouldn’t come to pass. i mean, we’d already dropped 9k on her and were fully prepared to spend 1k more for that fighting chance of a weekend - and of all the things we regret that is not one of them, even if i know a thousand people who’d call us fucking idiots for it. no cent spent trying to keep her alive was a waste. between all of us, even if we had to go into debt, it was the least we could do. we put aside those hopeful dreams of actually owning a house for her, and all my daydreams of introducing them to the new place.

but that 9k could have been reduced to 4.5k (over the 8 years, putting into it each month) if we’d had health insurance on her. as much as that is, it’s tiny compared to what we just spent and would have given us the reassurance to take her to the vet the moment she got sick instead of worrying about money. please, if you have pets you care about, get them health insurance. here it’s 50 a month but that is nothing compared to the cost of vet bills even for routine checkups which it will cover 90% of, and it will give you the peace of mind that you can go to the vet whenever. the moment a pet starts acting unusual you should take them. even if its nothing, its better safe than sorry. complications can hit so fast and pile up.

i’ll be watching the other cats much more closely after this and - after i have my energy back, hopefully - i’ll follow through on that promise and pay them even more attention and get them even more toys. we’re gping to get them health insurance in january and we’re gonna spent the spring cleaning up the backyard to make it safer for the cats, just in case. when they get into the backyard in the summer, oh, its gonna be real fuckin strange not to see amber’s cute sandy coloured face under the lilac tree by the little pond. i still have photos of her from last summer and remember vividly making myself stupid in the grass to get those upward shots of her.

goodnight little lion. you had all the colours of the desert in you and all the love of the sweetest little earth angel, eager to share it. i wish we could have given you so many more years of care, eight was not enough and eleven is much too young for a kitty to go, but i hope you are warm and basking in sunlight wherever you are.

i could see no stars out until i looked behind the house. there, despite the heavy cloud cover on this overcast day, there is a single star shining brighter than i’ve ever seen before, right above us, right at the door.

#animal death tw 6635 #long post 645