my fav fic author is one of my moots now and theyâre gonna read my fic omg iâll scream. i should just delete the whole thing before i embarrass myself right
Summary: Youâre crazy, toxic, and above all, dramatic. So what else can you do when your long-term boyfriend cheats on you but run away across state lines in the middle of the night? A chance encounter with a certain bastard might be everything you need to escape your old life- or it might be your worst nightmare. Youâre running with the big dogs now. Hope you can handle it.
Warnings: This is an explicit fic! Please do not read if you arenât prepared for mature content.
Words: 12,908
Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22813183
Dedication: So, this is my first published fic! I have so many wonderful influences to thank for that, seriously y'all are all sorts of talented and amazing. But this particular fic I would like to dedicate to my darling @neoncrowpenâ, who gave me the confidence to put my work out there back when I was just a shy lil anon who needed the advice from one of my most admired authors. Thank you for your faith, I hope I can do it some justice <3
Chapter 5
You werenât sure what you expected Ramsay Boltonâs private residence to look like, though as Ramsay sped through the city, that smug expression still plastered on his face, you pictured a sleek and modern penthouse or something equally ostentatious. But as it turned out, the building he came to a stop in front of wasnât a skyscraper at all, but a four-story townhouse nestled between more of similar ilk. You were standing on the sidewalk in front of it, admiring the ornate details, the way it was made of a white stone and seemed a touch more elegant than the surrounding townhouses, when the low, barely audible sound of Domericâs car pulling up drew your attention. You turned just in time to watch the older Bolton brother parallel park in a spot that you were certain was too small, but he slid in with ease. He looked up then, his dark eyes sparkling as he offered you a self-satisfied smile.
âDonât compliment him,â Ramsayâs low voice came from over your shoulder, startling you. You hadnât even noticed him get out of the car. You spun to face him. His blue eyes locked with yours, and you were a little too stunned by his proximity to register his annoyance at his older brother. Beautiful. The word echoed in your mind automatically upon looking at him. He only raised an eyebrow at your surprise, his gaze flickering over your face for a moment before he continued. âGoes to his head,â he finished before hustling up the front steps to the door. He lifted the knocker, and you watched him press his flayed man ring into a crevice beneath it. The door unlocked.
âIs that a magic thing?â You called as you hustled up the steps behind him.
âIt is,â he confirmed. âNo one but the Boltons and those who work for us can get into this house. Youâre safe here.â As you walked through the door and into the entryway hall, you briefly wondered to yourself safe from what, but were interrupted by a gray blur speeding at you through the corner of your vision. You didnât even have time to lift your head when you were knocked back against the wall by a heavy force, gray fur obscuring your vision, and you couldâve sworn it was a wolf before Ramsay snapped, âDown, Duchess!â
The Blue Bay Shepherd didnât listen, she was too busy licking your face, and you actually sank down the wall until you were seated on the rug, two heavy paws pushing down on your shoulders, Duchessâ tail wagging wildly behind her. You squealed with laughter, stroking her thick fur and scratching her neck as she offered you affection. âSheâs so soft,â Ramsay complained with dismay, but the way he watched out of the corner of his eye, a ghost of a smirk on his lips, betrayed his affection for the animal. Ramsay must have a soft spot for his pets. For some reason, the idea was endearing to you, like when you see a man holding a baby.
âDown, Duchess,â Benâs voice came from the doorway, and this time she listened, circling around Ben to heel by his side. When she sat, he offered her a treat.
âIâm your owner, you know,â Ramsay practically pouted at the dog. You met the rest of his dogs as you wandered deeper into the home. Apollo Creed, as it turned out, couldnât be bothered to get up from her spot on the plush cushioned couch in the elegantly furnished, french-panelled living room, but she graciously allowed you to pet her. Teacup and Princess Lilah both got jealous if you offered the other any attention, and Jack Daniels barked at you unless you crouched down to her level and pet her. Maverick took an immediate liking to you, following you around the house, your loyal shadow as you admired the sophisticated decor, the antique furniture. The house was beyond nice, but lived in, and you tried to picture Ramsay on a typical day. You wondered if Ben usually came over to walk the dogs or if he did it himself, if they got lonely when he was at work. You spotted a station with food and water bowls along one wall of the kitchen with a little hand-written chalkboard sign over it labelled âBastardâs Girlsâ, which made you huff out a laugh.
âWhatâs so funny?â Ramsay asked. He would sound intimidating if he didnât currently have a pomeranian tucked under his arm, who was currently biting his sleeve.
âNothing. You havenât reacted to what I told you, by the way,â you said, leaning against the marble island in the center of the kitchen.
âWhat you told me?â he repeated, setting Jack Daniels down and leaning against the island beside you. You were both facing the doorway now, and beneath the warm lighting of the small chandelier, in his charming kitchen, you almost understood what he meant by safe.
âMy sketchpad,â you reminded him, turning your face to look at him. âThe drawing. It changed.â Ramsay seemed completely nonplussed by the idea. Heâd taken his blazer off upon entering the house, and the sleeves of his dress shirt were pushed to his elbows, revealing more of those faded tattoos. This was his home, you realized as you admired the linework. Of course he was comfortable. The thought was odd, that someone like Ramsay had let you into his world, into his home, the most vulnerable place for himâ and you didnât know him. Just hours ago, you were a threat.
âAh,â was all he said in reply. There it was again, that mischievous smile on his lips.
âYou know something,â you accused.
âI suspect something,â he corrected you smoothly. âAnd if Iâm right, you are very, very valuable to me, doll.â
âDo you plan on sharing with the class?â you spat sarcastically.
âPatience, love,â came his short reply. You couldâve gouged those pretty eyes out right then, but Ramsay pushed himself from the counter, taking your elbow and leading you to the steps. He led you past a reading nook in front of a stained glass window on the first landing that you thought would be perfect for sitting in the sunlight and drawing. Ramsay tugged you along when you lingered, up to the second floor and down a narrow hallway where he showed you to the guest room youâd be staying in.
A king-sized bed with crisp, ruffled white bedding and a gold bedframe sat at the middle of the wall. The same french paneling from the living room adorned the walls, along with a gold-framed, floor-length mirror and a white and gold vanity, wardrobe, and dressers. By the full-length window, framed by sheer white curtains, was a large, plush armchair. A small chandelier illuminated the room from above, and elegantly detailed double doors led into the walk-in closet. Through the open door, you could see into the private bathroom; it was just as grand as the rest of the room. As you walked further into the room, the smooth wooden floor gave way to a plush carpet.
âThis is a guest room?â You asked in disbelief and awe. Ramsay only smirked.
âThis is your room,â he corrected. âAnd mine is much nicer, for the record.â He pointed you in the direction of his own, down the hall from yours, and showed you where Domeric and Ben would be staying on the third floor. The fourth floor, as it turned out, was a rooftop garden, and you stood there for a few minutes, admiring the view of the city lights at night. Itâd make a pretty picture, you thought to yourself, and you made a mental note to bring your sketchpad up here soon, before Ramsay gently took your wrist. âCome. Youâll catch a cold,â he said, leading you back downstairs.
âNot that Iâm not grateful,â you started as you made your way down the steps by Ramsayâs side, your own strides short and sprightly beside his smooth, assured ones. He interrupted you, however, before you could get far.
âAll in due time, little dove,â he said breezily.
âLittle dove?â You repeated.
âWould you prefer little freak?â He quipped, a smug smirk crossing his lips at your offended expression.
âNo,â you replied with a miserable pout, which made him throw his head back with laughter.
âGet some sleep. Youâve got a big day tomorrow,â he said, the smirk still on his lips as you reached the second floor once more.
âA big day doing what?â You pressed as you came to a halt in front of him.
âThe first day of your apprenticeship,â he replied. The statement only raised more questions for you, but before you could ask any, he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek. âGoodnight, little freak,â he said, laughing to himself as he crossed the hallway to his own bedroom, leaving you mystified and slightly offended in his wake.
fyi for the poll, the new series i have been cooking include rhysand from acotar, the ghoul from fallout, and more bucky! plz lmk if u guys are interested in these new fandoms :'D
HAI MY LOVELIES i havenât been on this app in forever (like i literally logged on and it still said i was 23) but i recently got some nice comments on AO3 and it made me want to write :'D would u guys preferâŠ
Summary: You are hopelessly in love with your best friend, James Buchanan Barnes, and it's clear he feels something for you, too. So between stolen kisses and hookups, drunken calls and flirty banter, why can't you talk about it? What even is "it"?
Warnings: Light angst, an argument, all is resolved
Words: 5,090
Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48220744/chapters/121858312
Chapter 3
Chapter Notes: Hi, my loves! This chapter is a little longer than the last one, and a little angstier, though I always try to wrap things up on a happy note. Please let me know what you all think! I love you and thank you for reading!
âDid you tell Bucky?â Were the first words to spill out of Natâs mouth as she came rushing into your room. Wanda shot you a sympathetic look from where she was sat, cross-legged, at the end of your bed.
âNo,â you replied with a resolved pout. âHe didnât text me all day. He doesnât get to know. He can find out when he sees me next and wonder why he was left out of the loop.â
âNice to know weâre being mature about this.â Wandaâs words were drowned out as Nat spoke over her.
âLetâs sign your cast.â You nodded towards your desk where a pencil case brimming with art supplies sat unzipped. An assortment of colored Sharpies overflowed from it. Nat went for classic black, tossing Wanda a red one. After they finished, Nat sat next to you, leaning in conspiratorially. âIf you really want to make him jealous, get another guy to sign it first.â
âAnother guy?â You blinked. âI donât know any other guys. I mean, I do, but my guy friends are nerds; Bucky wonât be jealous of them.â
âGet Loki to do it,â Nat squealed delightedly. You couldnât help but raise your eyebrows at her turpitude. Bucky was close with Thor but he absolutely despised his younger brother. But you couldnât go that far. Bucky never talked to people you hated; you wanted to reciprocate that respect. He was your friend, first, after all. You were about to protest the idea when Wanda spoke up.
âAnd Erik downstairs. Bucky definitely noticed the way he eyes you up. Heâs always calling the guy a cornball and looking for reasons to dislike him,â she added.
âWanda!â You scolded, not at all surprised to hear Nat talking like this but very shocked indeed to hear it coming from your most rational friend. She simply grinned bashfully in response.
âHe hasnât texted you all day,â Wanda reminded you. âNothing wrong with reminding him how steep the competition is out here.
âI wouldnât want him to remind me how steep the competition is,â you argued. Nat waved her hand dismissively.
âBut if he does it, heâs a douchebag because he knows you two wouldâve been in a relationship already if it were up to you. Heâs the one who âneeds timeâ, so you can show him that if he doesnât step up, another guy will!â
âSomehow, I donât think Bucky is that insecure. Heâd just say something like âif thatâs what you want, then thatâs thatâ and never talk to me again.â
âOh, I forgot you two love playing the emotionally mature game.â Nat wrinkled her nose in disapproval. âBut if we go out tonight and you just happen to run into Erik and Loki before Bucky texts you, heâll have no one to blame but himself.â You groaned in response.
âI just ate shit on the way home from class and spent the last three hours in an emergency room. I do not feel like going out tonight.â
âAnd is the alternative sitting in bed, eating peanut butter cups and complaining about how much your arm hurts and how Bucky hasnât texted you back?â Wanda asked pointedly. You shot her a death glare.
âMaybe the peanut butter cups will keep him at bay. He is allergic,â you mused.
âYeah, no, Iâm sorry; I do not want to deal with pouty Y/N right now. Get dressed and put on your best sad, wounded puppy look,â Nat said. She eyed you for a second. âYeah, just like that.â You groaned loudly in response, only growing louder as she stood up and made her way to your closet, flipping through your dresses.
Youâd settled on a strapless emerald green mini dress and black boots, which Wanda helped you into as Nat did your hair and makeup. Since you couldnât exactly put anything on over your sling, your jacket hung over your shoulders. You wanted to complain more, but the girls were right. Youâd be in pain either way. Might as well distract yourself from it, both physically and emotionally.
You were heading downstairs when Nat slowed you all to a stop in the hallway.
âAre you sure youâre okay, Y/N?â She asked, louder than necessary. You hid your face behind your hand as you realized what she was doing. âOh, Y/N, you poor thing. Wanda, will you help Y/N with her jacket?â Her speaking volume raised each time she said your name, making your face flush in humiliation, especially as the door to the apartment youâd stopped in front of slowly swung open, revealing a curious-looking Erik.
âY/N? I thought I heard your name,â he said.
âA wonder how that came to be,â you mumbled under your breath. His eyes fell on your cast.
âWhat happened to you? Are you okay?â Concern laced his voice.
âIâm just clumsy,â you conceded with a tight smile. âI tripped reading on my way out of the library. Shouldâve watched where I was going.â
âIâm glad youâre alright,â he said, his fingers ghosting your arm as he stared down at you intensely. âI thought someone hurt you; Iâd have to teach them a lesson.â He gave you a crooked smile as he said it, gazing into your eyes. Out of the corner of your eyes, you spotted Natâs triumphant grin, as Wanda had the decency to pretend to be reading a job posting stapled to the community corkboard. Jesus, Bucky was right, you couldnât help but think. This guy really is a cornball. âOh, hey, they signed your cast. Why donât I add my name to it?â
âLuckily,â Nat interjected, âI happen to have brought some Sharpies. What color would you like?â
âHow about gold?â Erik asked, flashing his bright, picture perfect smile. You watched Nat grow a little flustered as she handed him the marker. Of course he would pick gold, you thought to yourself. âWhere are you guys headed?â Erik asked as he finished signing your cast, finally taking in your outfits. Natâs eyes sparkled.
âWeâre justââ
âLate, we are running late,â you interrupted, ushering her away with your good hand. âNice seeing you Erik, see you around!â You called as Wanda held the door open for you all to step outside, leaving a confused Erik still standing in his doorway.
âIf you donât want him, Iâll take him,â Nat said into the evening air as the door shut behind you.
âTake away,â you sighed as you began walking to the bar where Wanda swore sheâd seen Loki on Snap Map. âYou know this is borderline stalking,â you reminded her.
âIt is public information,â she clarified. âAnd we got to speak to my bachelor, so weâre doing Natâs next!â
âItâs like the worldâs shittiest game show,â you lamented. âAll the douchebags and no cash prize.â
âThe prize,â Wanda reminded you, âwill be Bucky seeing how many men will happily take his place and be your shoulder to cry on if he ever pulls a disappearing act like he did today.â You couldnât help but smirk at her overprotectiveness. You knew Bucky most likely got caught up in a game of pick-up basketball or was busy with schoolwork, but you couldnât help the chip on your shoulder that youâd broken your arm and he wasnât around to help you. So much for best friends, you thought bitterly.
You spotted Loki almost immediately after entering the bar. He was leaning against a pool table, laughing at something his friends were saying when he caught your eye. You turned to notice that Nat and Wanda had already made themselves scarce, heading to the bar to get you drinks.
âY/N,â Loki greeted as he strutted towards you, his eyes flitting down briefly to take in the sling. âDonât you look worse for wear.â
âGee, thanks, Loki,â you rolled your eyes. He laughed.
âYou look beautiful as ever, darling, I was merely referring to the little nylon accessory youâre currently sporting.â You sighed.
âI may be beauty but I am not grace. I tripped coming out of the library.â Unlike Erikâs concerned reaction, Loki merely tilted his head back in a roaring laugh, a sound that irritated you to your core like proverbial nails on a chalkboard.
âPerhaps not grace, but the phrase âbeauty and brainsâ does come to mind,â he conceded. He gestured towards the pool table. âIâd offer for you to join me but it seems you are out of commission for the time being.â
âIâll watch,â you said, resignedly, leaning on a nearby pool table. You watched him play for a minute before Nat and Wanda returned, Malibu bay breeze in hand. You smiled gratefully as you sipped the drink down. Loki greeted them both in turn as he made his shot before finally looking up from his game and leaning on the table next to you. For a moment neither of you said anything.
âSo,â he finally spoke. âNo Buckley today?â
âBucky,â you corrected him, his answering shrug confirming your suspicion that he already knew your best friendâs name. âAnd no. We havenât spoken today.â Loki hummed in response, his expression calculating as he took in the defeated slump of your shoulders.
âDespite your recent injury,â he noted.
âI mean, I didnât exactly text him about it,â you admitted.
âYouâre still upset. Why is that, if you havenât even given him a chance to show up for you?â
âBecause,â you sighed. âI shouldnât have to. He doesnât ask me to show up for him, I just do it. A little reciprocity would be nice.â He hummed in response.
âYou know, Y/N, not everyone shows their affection the same way you do. Just because Bucky doesnât speak your love language, doesnât mean he isnât speaking his own.â
âHe doesnât speak any love language,â you scoffed. Lokiâs index finger and thumb touched your chin, just for a moment, as he tilted your face up to look into his eyes. His fingers were off you just as quickly as he chose his next words.
âListen, love. You know I think I could make you much happier than that joker ever could.â You opened your mouth to protest, but he shot you a silencing look before continuing. âAnd I know that there is no room in your heart for anyone besides him. But ask yourself. When is the last time he spoke to someone for this long? His reputation precedes him, you know. But with you, itâs different. Youâre not a fling. Maybe heâs taking his time with you because he thinks youâre worth taking things slowly with. And maybe each time he distances himself, heâs trying to stop this from burning out too soon because heâs decided he wants you around for a long time.â You stared at him in stunned silence for a moment as he stood up and stretched, cue stick in hand. âI mean, what do I know? The guyâs an idiot. If you were my girl, Iâd show you off to the entire city. And take you on a date that isnât sneaking into AMC to see The Batman for free for the tenth time.â He shot you a smirk. âThough I suspect you enjoy that. So how about you hand me a Sharpie and I can sign that cast of yours to make him jealous, and you can head over to his apartment?â
âHow did you know?â You laughed.
âYour two best friends and Erik Killmonger? Please, darling. Discreet is not your strong suit. Seeing as gold has been taken, why donât you hand me the green one to match that pretty little dress of yours?â
The walk back to Buckyâs apartment was contemplative for you. You ran into Peter and MJ coming out of a restaurant with Tony and Pepper along the way, so you were grateful for a few more signatures from your friends to hide your stupid, embarrassing scheme. Wanda and Nat finally left you at the door to the brownstone Bucky and his roommates shared. With your good hand, you knocked shakily. It was Steve who answered.
âY/N? What happened to you?â He asked as he took in your arm.
âBeing clumsy, as usual,â you replied, peeking past him. âIs Bucky home?â
âYeah, heâs in his room, come on in,â he said, stepping aside to let you in first before closing the door behind you. You greeted Thor and Sam playing 2K on the living room floor, brushing off their concern. Before you could make it to Buckyâs room, he came out. His hair was wet from a shower and he was wearing plaid pajama pants and the Christmas t-shirt he always wore to bed. His already plump pink lips were settled in a confused pout.
âY/N?â He asked, his eyes dancing over your frame before making their way back to your face.
âHey, Buck.â
âYou tried to breathe and walk at the same time again?â He asked teasingly. His smile didnât quite reach his eyes, though.
âOh, this? I fell off a cellphone tower. I thought perhaps I wasnât getting any bars since you havenât texted me all day.â You shot back. It was semi-playful but laced with something else.
âPhone works both ways,â he reminded you in his smart-ass tone. Oh, he was upset. But why? You wondered. He hadnât even seen the signatures yet. âIâve been waiting for a text from you,â he confessed, opening the door to his bedroom and leaning back against it as you walked in. He joined you in sitting at the edge of his bed and brushed your jacket off your shoulders. âWhy didnât you tell me as soon as it happened?â He asked as he touched your arm gently, inspecting the injury. His eyebrows shot up as he read the signatures and you felt your face flush. âLooks like youâve been in good hands, at least.â It was hard to miss the iciness in his tone.
âNot like you care,â you grumbled. A look flashed across his face that you couldnât mistake for anything but anger.
âI donât care?â He asked disbelievingly.
âI didnât mean that, IâŠâ you trailed off unsurely.
âSo what did you mean, Y/N? Besides putting words in my mouth?â
âI donât know, I⊠You didnât text me all day.â
âYeah, because I was busy with shit. And you didnât text me either. But you had time to have half of New York sign your cast,â he scoffed. Shit. This was a bad idea, jealousy was such a negative emotion. Why did you let Nat and Wanda talk you into this?
âHalf of New York wouldâve signed my cast whether you showed up for me or not, Bucky,â you cried. âI have friends, you know. I donât just sit around waiting for you all day.â Such a lie. Yes, you did.
âI never said you did,â Bucky raised his voice to match yours. âWhere is this coming from?â
âI just,â you sighed. âI just want you to show up for me.â
âAll this because I didnât text you for one day? The phone works both ways, Y/N.â
âNo, not just today. I mean. Like, you ice me out. We spend the night together and you get all cold and distant after. Weâre friends and then weâre more than friends but itâs always on your terms. Anytime we get too close, you push me away again.â You felt tears welling up in your eyes as you spoke despite how much you willed yourself not to cry.
âI need time, Y/N, I told you this,â he replied. His tone was even but his eyebrows were knotted together in frustration.
âYeah, I know, but what about what I need? Reassurance. Affection. Iâm not a sex doll, you know.â
âI never said you are.â
âI know you didnât. But I feel like one. You hate when I say weâre just friends but the only time youâre intimate with me outside of that is sex.â
âSo you donât want to have sex anymore,â he concluded, the corners of his pouty lips twitching into a frown.
âNo, Bucky, I want to have sex but I want more than that, donât you get it?â
âAnd Iâm telling you I need time. Y/N, please. I wouldâve showed up for you today if you asked. I wouldâve taken you to the E.R. I wouldâve signed your cast first. If you texted me.â
âIâŠâ you started, cutting yourself off with a sigh after a moment. âI know. I donât know what I was trying to prove,â you admitted quietly.
âCâmere. Let me get you out of that dress. Which shirt do you want to wear?â He asked.
âThat one,â you nodded towards the one he was wearing.
âOf course. Couldnât make it easy for me,â he shook his head with a slight smile and pulled the shirt over his head in one swift motion. You couldnât help but blush at the sight of his naked torso and look away even though it was nothing you hadnât seen before. His motions were gentle and slow, his eyebrows pulled together in concentration as he helped you dress. Soon you were laid up in nothing but his Christmas tee and your panties, and Bucky remained shirtless in his pajama pants at your side.
âWhere is it?â He finally asked.
âWhere is what?â You replied in question, confusion lacing your tone. He quirked an eyebrow at you.
âMy Sharpie,â he answered. You felt your face flush as he shot you a triumphant smirk.
âItâs in my jacket pocket,â you admitted. He fished it out, signing the available spot on your hand in bright orange. His favorite color. The signature was unnecessarily big, and he finished with a heart. You shot him a smile and he rolled his eyes at you.
âDonât make a big deal out of it before I turn it into a butt,â he warned. You giggled and nodded your agreement, your mind racing with things to say but none of them seeming like enough.
âGoodnight, Bucky,â you breathed into the dark room after a while.
âGoodnight, Y/N,â his sleepy voice mumbled in reply. His soft snores filled the room only moments after.
Summary: You are hopelessly in love with your best friend, James Buchanan Barnes, and it's clear he feels something for you, too. So between stolen kisses and hookups, drunken calls and flirty banter, why can't you talk about it? What even is "it"?
Warnings: Nothing so far, maybe slight angst?
Words: 2,051
Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48220744/chapters/121643431
Chapters 1 & 2
Chapter 4
Chapter Notes:Â I couldn't get him out of my head, you guys, so here is a short little chapter. I love you guys! I hope you like it; let me know what you think!
âAre we going to the Met again?â Bucky asked, his breath visible in the still-cool March air.
âStop guessing,â you scolded. âI told you I wonât answer.â
âYeah, but youâre easy to read so I can figure it out by your lack of response.â
âThatâs just unsportsmanlike,â you huffed. Buckyâs answering laugh made your heart melt a little.
âDonât pout.â
âI wonât pout if you donât guess.â You eventually came to a stop in front of the steps of the Met, hesitantly turning to look at Bucky. He doubled over laughing at your defeated expression, the sight almost worth having your surprise ruined.
âYou just want to listen to me info-dump about the Renaissance to you again, donât you?â He teased. Yes, you thought.
âNo,â you replied, shooting him a baleful look. âI came to eat the oil paintings.â He rolled his eyes but cracked a grin, following you up the steps where you flashed your Student IDs to the front desk. You led him upstairs and down corridors, ignoring his questions along the way. Your heart quickened in your chest as you wondered how he would feel about the surprise.
Finally, you happened upon the room you were looking for. You and Bucky had been here before, but it had been changed around to make space for the new display. Art of World War II. You watched nervously as Bucky looked around, his eyes drinking in the sight. Excitement sparkled in his eyes and he slowly broke into a wide grin.
âHappy birthday, Bucky,â you said softly.
âY/N, seriously? This is amazing. I love it,â he breathed, unable to tear his eyes away from the art on display.
âI knew youâd like it! Your two hyper-fixations in one.â You wore a small, private smile at the victory. He turned and pulled you into a crushing hug, your heart swelling at the contact.
âYouâre the best,â he breathed into your hair.
âI didnât do anything,â you giggled. âThe Met is free. Iâm actually just being cheap like you now.â
âShut up,â he laughed, pulling away slightly but not quite letting you go yet. âItâs still special. Thank you.â
âYouâre welcome,â you replied softly. He pulled away to admire the art, reading off the labels and throwing in his own knowledge as he explained each piece to you. It was his birthday, but it felt like you were the one receiving a gift.
Summary: It's your first time helping your boyfriend and his family pick out a Christmas tree, and he is very opinionated on the matter.
Warnings: Mentions of death of a family member
Words: 1,297
Read on AO3:Â https://archiveofourown.org/works/47295508
AN:Â Hi my lovelies! I found this draft sitting on my computer untouched, and I really miss the holidays about now so I thought I'd share! This is my first time writing for Robb, but I hope you all like it. Please let me know what you think and if you'd like more holiday preferences for the GoT boys! As always, thank you for reading!
You were currently squeezed in the middle row of the Starksâ van. Sansa was seated to your right and Arya to your left, with Nymeria between her spread legs. The arrangement left you with barely any room for your own legs, so you kicked them up onto the center console and watched as the hyperactive husky jumped onto her ownerâs lap, licking Aryaâs face frantically and then smushing her nose against the window until someone rolled it down for her. Sansa was busying herself trying to get the perfect angle to take a group selfie. She looked lovely in all of them, and you tried to help by striking a cute pose or two, but Aryaâs side of the picture came out blurry each time due to her constant movement. Sansa settled for cropping her younger sister out of the picture, posting only the two of you to Instagram with a myriad of holiday-related hashtags. You heard Theon begrudgingly breaking up a fight between Rickon and Bran in the back row. Suddenly, you felt a ticklish sensation on the bottom of your foot and shrieked, kicking your legs so much that Nymeria got excited and jumped at you as your boyfriend, Robb, looked back at you with a devilish laugh.
âHow are you liking your first Stark Christmas?â He asked from the passenger seat. You rolled your eyes.
âI love it! I liked the part where we finally arrived at our destination.â He laughed at your sarcasm.
âWe are a proud family. We donât go to Home Depot-â he scrunched his nose as he said the words, âfor our Christmas trees. If youâre going to marry me one day you gotta get with the traditions.â He said it so casually, but your stomach erupted with butterflies. You two had been dating for a year and had never talked about marriage before. You were still a bit young to be thinking about it, but just the thought that Robb saw you in his future filled you with warmth. His half-brother, Jon, also seemed to pick up on Robbâs slip-up, teasing him about it for the rest of the drive. Robb just puffed out his chest and proudly doubled down on his statement, but you spotted the faintest hint of pink on his cheeks.
When you finally arrived, Arya and the younger Stark boys had taken to chasing Nymeria through the tree lot, Jon trailing behind to make sure they didnât get into too much trouble, while Theon tried to impress Sansa by identifying the types of pine. It was an unspoken arrangement that Robb would be choosing the Christmas tree this year. Ever since his father, Ned, had passed, the family looked to him as the man of the house. Catelyn hadnât even had the energy to come tree shopping this year. It inspired you the way the Stark children were keeping their spirits up and keeping their traditions alive. You just worried about your boyfriend, having to be the âstrongâ one all the time. You squeezed his hand reassuringly and he smiled, leaning over to give you a quick kiss as you two looked along the rows of trees.
âI donât know the first thing about tree shopping,â you confessed. Youâd mostly said it to distract him, but it seemed to have worked. The spacey look in his eyes was replaced by a playful, judgey one.
âYeah, they donât teach you that on Amazon, do they?â He unconsciously raised his left eyebrow as he spoke, a quirk you loved about him.
âIt was one time,â you groaned.
âA white, plastic Christmas tree,â he recalled with disgust. âWasnât it one of the mini ones, too?â
âMy dorm has mandates on that sort of thing,â you whined. âA real tree is a fire hazard.â
âA fake tree is a relationship hazard,â he quipped. âNo girlfriend of mine getsââ
âYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,â you shoved your gloved hand over his mouth, earning your palm a bite that made you yelp and drop your hand in turn. âShow me how to choose a good tree.â The corners of his lips wobbled slightly, but you watched him try to keep his expression straight.
âI donât know,â he confessed softly. âMy dad used to go on and on about it but I never really paid attention. I didnât think Iâd have to do it on my own so soon.â The winter breeze carried his last words away, a whisper floating between rows of silent pines.
âYouâre not alone,â you reminded him. âYouâve got your brothers and sisters, and Theon, and your mom⊠and me.â You focused on the button of his jacket as you said that last part. You didnât know if it was presumptuous to count yourself in with his family, but youâd meant it. You wanted him to know he wasnât alone. That you were there for him. Cold gloved fingers gripped your chin and raised your gaze to meet his ocean blue eyes.
âI know that, love,â he said. For a moment, you did nothing but look at each other. His eyes, his expression was so open. It was the most vulnerable moment you two had shared, yet not a word was spoken. You dared not breathe, afraid he would close himself off again. But he didnât. He just looked at you, speaking with his eyes.
âI love you,â you thought as hard as you could. âIâm in love with you.â
Then slowly, he leaned in, his hands slipping into your hair. Your eyelids fluttered shut instinctively; your heartbeat quickened as your icy lips met his soft, warm ones. How did he always feel so warm? You felt the blood rushing to your cheeks as Robb kissed you slowly, so slowly. His soft lips brushing your own made you feel dizzy and lit a fire inside you at the same time. Even a year in, he still made you so nervous.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close. You couldnât think of anything else. Just the feeling of him gently sucking on your lower lip and releasing it. His breath fanning your face as he sighed out. Your heart was so full of him you could burst. His hands on your waist, his eyes shut, his forehead leaning against yours for just a second before he slowly opened his eyes.
âI love you, Y/N,â he breathed softly.
âI love you,â you whispered back.
One look at your face and he was kissing you again, his lips fervently locking with your own. You reached up to caress his face but he caught your hand, cradling it against his chest.
âHey, GET A ROOM!â Theonâs voice called out from behind you. Jonâs deep laugh followed.
âThereâs children here you know! Did they even pick out a tree?!â He asked, earning more laughter from Theon. Robb groaned and your eyes fluttered open in time to watch him flip them off.
âYeah, that one,â he gestured with his head to the tree closest to you. His eyes never left your face as you turned to look at it. It was crooked, and short, with uneven branches that drooped low. You were no tree expert, but even you could tell it was quite ugly.
âThat one?â You asked, eyes widening. âAre you sure, because I know Christmas trees are super important to you, andââ
âShut up, Y/N,â he murmured, pulling you in for another kiss that left you weak at the knees. Catelyn had raised an eyebrow when you all arrived home and presented her with Robbâs tree choice, but you had all been so busy laughing and decorating and watching films and baking that Christmas that somehow, that ugly little tree became the most perfect thing you could imagine.
Summary:Â You are hopelessly in love with your best friend, James Buchanan Barnes, and it's clear he feels something for you, too. So between stolen kisses and hookups, drunken calls and flirty banter, why can't you talk about it? What even is "it"?
Warnings: Nothing so far, maybe slight angst?
Words: 1,648
Read on AO3:Â https://archiveofourown.org/works/48220744
Chapter 3
AN:Â Hi, my lovelies! Although Bucky is my comfort character and my fav of all time, this is actually my first time writing for him! To be completely honest, this is totally self-gratifying and based heavily on my current romantic situation, but I do hope you all like it. This is just the beginning of this fic, and of course, I promise it will have a happy, resolved ending! For now, it is more of a best-friends-to-lovers situationship drabble. I would love to hear from you guys and I hope to receive some comments and feedback so I can know how you all liked the story. As always, thank you so much for reading. I love you all! Muah! <3 :D
Chapter 1
Your hair fell over your face, beads of sweat forming at the back of your neck. A stranger shot you a smile as you moved your hips to the pumping beat. You smiled back. You turned your attention away from him just as it looked like he might approach you, leaning over to your friends instead. âIâm going to get another drink!â You shouted over the pounding music. Wanda waved you off with a smile as she watched Nat spin Pietro around and around in a fit of giggles.
You stumbled slightly as you made your way through the crowd, all packed tightly and dancing close, to the dimly lit bar, and leaned against it as you waited for the redheaded bartender to turn around. You tugged the hem of your tight little black dress down a little. It wasnât a self-conscious motion. Truthfully, you felt beautiful tonight, all eyes on you. It was just habit. You werenât usually this girl. Youâd normally stay home for a quiet night in. But youâd be damned if you waited by your phone for a drunken phone call from him. If he was out with friends, you would be, too. And youâd have a damn good time.
Dizzying lights danced in your periphery as you took a moment to collect yourself, when suddenly you felt your phone buzzing in your bag. Whipping it out embarrassingly quickly, you asked the bartender for a couple of white tea shots before sliding your thumb across your screen, the video call opening to reveal a grinning Bucky.
He was walking outside from what you could tell, Steve and Sam at his sides and Thor and Bruce probably trailing behind. The wide grin on his face told you he was even drunker than you were, and he was still looking ahead of him as he walked.
âWhere are you?!â He shouted. You stepped away from the bar closer to the door to hear him better, and held the phone up to show yourself and the scene behind you.
âAces, with Nat and the Maximoffs,â you said loudly. He finally looked down, his blue eyes blown out as his jaw dropped.
âWhat the hell are you doing looking that good?â He asked. You heard the boys laughing and teasing him in the background, but you couldnât make out what they were saying.
âUh, dancing?â You said, but you couldnât help the way your lips quirked into a smile at the compliment.
âThe hell, with who?â
âI just told youââ
âIâm coming,â He announced. Your heart started to race as you imagined Bucky joining you guys. Seeing your little black dress in person. Dancing on you. Pinning you against a wall, kissing youâŠ
âY/N,â You were startled to notice it was Steve holding the phone now, looking down at you all broad shoulders and gallant smile. âBucky is hammered. Iâm going to take him home.â
âOh, okay, should I come help you take care of him?â You couldnât help the pang of disappointment in your chest at his words. Steve gave you a knowing smile.
âThatâs alright, Y/N, he just needs to sleep it off. You enjoy your night.â
âAre you fucking done?â You heard Buckyâs voice pipe up as he snatched the phone back from Steve. âSorry, Y/N, Steve is annoying and he wants to hog you all to himself.â He shot his best friend a glare who just gave him an amused but apologetic smile. You admired the lines of his sharp jaw, the way his brown hair was tucked behind his ears, and the way his eyebrows pushed together oh-so-seriously as he stepped away from his friends, the city lights blurring above him with each movement. âSorry, I wanted you all to myself for a minute,â he said, flashing you a dazzling smile. You felt yourself getting lightheaded at the compliment and smiled at him shyly.
âYeah?â
âYeah, you look fucking beautiful,â he proclaimed. âShouldâve told me you wanted to go out, angel. I wouldâve taken you out on the town. Wouldâve taken you back to my place.â He was so drunk. âSo right now?â He asked with a smirk.
âRight now,â you agreed jokingly.
âI wishââ he started, but was interrupted by Thor yelling something to him in the background. âI gotta go, doll. Call you tonight?â You nodded, and when the call hung up you felt suddenly too sad to dance anymore. You gave your shots to Wanda, deciding the others had had enough to drink.
âYou sure youâre okay?â Wanda asked, concern lacing her blue-green eyes. You gave her an unconvincing smile.
âYeah, I just think Iâm all danced out for the night. Iâm gonna sleep.â She gave you a knowing look but hugged you goodbye.
âIâll see you later then,â she said.
âSee you later,â you repeated, trying to sound cheerful. âHave fun, you guys!â
Bucky didnât call you. He probably fell asleep as soon as he got home. Your head spun from the liquor and his drunken smile all night.
Chapter 2
âThe Covenant clears,â Bucky declared. He was using his annoying matter-of-fact tone and you felt the urge to knock him down a few pegs. It seemed unlikely, though. Even if he were objectively wrong in every way, Bucky seemed to win every single argument you got into. You suspected it had something to do with your mega crush on him. The way he looked at you had a way of making you swallow your words just as they were about to come out.
âThe Empire would win based off sheer size alone,â you argued. âThey literally rule most of the galaxy. The Covenant barely has enough manpower to control part of Orionâs arm.â
âManpower?â Bucky scoffed. âYou mean Stormtroopers? They couldnât hit water if they fell out of a boat.â
âAnd the Grunts and Jackals are any better? Theyâre meant to be expendable, the only difference is the Covenant has less of them.â
âThe only difference is the Covenant has Brutes and Elites to do the real fighting.â
âAnd theyâll wipe each other out the way they fight. Your whole army has no unity. You know what the Empire has? The Death Star.â
âOh, Iâm real scared of your floating space rock,â Bucky quipped.
âYou should be!â You exclaimed. âBetween that and the Star Destroyersââ
âYou shouldnât have brought up technology at all because Covenant would smoke the Empire. Thatâs all antiquated 70s bullshit. They have the Forerunner Keyship and plasma weaponry.â
âThe Empire has hyperdrive,â you deadpanned. âAnd thatâs so much better than slip space.â Bucky let out a disbelieving gasp.
âEat your fucking wordsââ
âHey, are yâall about fucking DONE?â You heard Samâs voice boom from behind you. You started. You were so absorbed in the argument that you forgot you were in Buckyâs shared apartment with all of his roommates. You turned sheepishly to Sam, who was cradling a bowl of popcorn in one arm and holding the remote in his other hand. His face was less than amused. âCan yâall take the argument to Buckyâs room, âcuz Iâm trying to watch Monday Night Raw.â
âI was invested,â Thor added earnestly from where he was perched on a kitchen stool.
âSorry, guys,â you started, but Bucky simply scoffed and grabbed your wrist, dragging you to his room.
âDonât apologize to Sam. Heâll die if he hears about an interest that isnât WWE or 2K.â
âI heard that!â Sam shouted back from the living room.
âAnd his taste in music sucks,â Bucky added, more loudly.
You giggled as he closed the door behind you, flopping back onto his bed, your head hitting his pillow as you stared at the posters on his wall. Classic movies and modern rappers. Sports teams heâd been a fan of his whole life. Sports teams heâd just gotten into. Superheroes and video games. It was like a mosaic of his entire personality in one room. And it smelled like him. It was your favorite place to be. He always kept his room clean despite being a male college student, which you liked. Well, to be fair, you liked everything about him, even the things you didnât like, like how stingy he was and how he couldnât take a compliment for shit. Those things made him, him, and they just made him grow on you more.
âWhatâs up?â He asked, sitting next to you. You felt the mattress dip but didnât look over at him yet.
âJust thinking about your room.â
âWhat about it?â I like being surrounded by this much of you, you wanted to say. I like that you have a pair of my earrings and my scrunchie that I left over here in your bedside drawer and I never asked for them back because it makes me happy that youâd want to keep them. I like wearing your hoodies when I come over and get cold. I like when we make love and your sheets smell like my perfume and I wonder if it makes you a little happy to smell it after I leave.
âItâs clean,â you settled on saying. He hummed in response.
Your heartbeat quickened as he laid next to you, and you curled into his side instinctively, your head nestled on his chest. It took him a second but he let his arm fall around you, his fingers dancing around your waist as he stroked it slightly. You held your breath so the tiny display of affection wouldnât disappear as fast as it came. You knew you couldnât do anything, not during the day with all his roommates home. Theyâd tear him to pieces about it later. So instead you let your eyes flutter shut and listened to his heartbeat as you pretended to fall asleep. This way, he wouldnât worry about you reading too much into it. But you were. You always did.
i just want my readers to know that i appreciate every single one of u. the ones who like my fics, the ones who comment, the ones who click my AO3 links, the ones who reblog, and even the ones who enjoy it but scroll by without engaging. every time someone appreciates a piece of art that i created and put out into the world it makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside! i love u all!
Summary: Youâre crazy, toxic, and above all, dramatic. So what else can you do when your long-term boyfriend cheats on you but run away across state lines in the middle of the night? A chance encounter with a certain bastard might be everything you need to escape your old life- or it might be your worst nightmare. Youâre running with the big dogs now. Hope you can handle it.
Warnings: This is an explicit fic! Please do not read if you arenât prepared for mature content.
Words: 11414
Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22813183
Dedication: So, this is my first published fic! I have so many wonderful influences to thank for that, seriously y'all are all sorts of talented and amazing. But this particular fic I would like to dedicate to my darling @neoncrowpenâ, who gave me the confidence to put my work out there back when I was just a shy lil anon who needed the advice from one of my most admired authors. Thank you for your faith, I hope I can do it some justice <3
Chapter 4
Domericâs car was sleek, black, and shiny like Ramsayâs, but it looked more classic than sporty, with rounded fenders and a detailed grill clearly meant to mimic an older style. Regardless, you soon found out it could drive just as fast as Ramsayâs, as the Bolton brothers seemed to have a shared affinity for speeding. Your heart thrummed and the scent of Domericâs cologne mixed with the leathery interior gave you a headache. Your mind was spinning a million miles a minute at the implication that Robb was even remotely aware of this strange, foreign world, let alone a member of one of its great houses. You knew the only way to find out more was to ask, but you felt too nauseous to open your mouth.
Domeric looked calm in comparison to how you felt. Where Ramsay would have seemed angry and tense, his brother was contemplative. You shyly looked over his handsome side profile, and when he caught your gaze he offered you a small smile.
âApologies,â he offered, âfor scaring you earlier.â
âYou didnât scare me,â you said, tucking your knees to your chest. No one said anything for another minute, until you finally asked, âWhat was Miranda for?â
âHm?â
âYou said to get Miranda up there. Does she have some sort of abilityâŠ?â
âOh,â Domeric laughed, his eyes still trained on the road ahead of him. âMy brother and I thought it would be a good idea to keep our little discovery a secret. Sheâs going to go up there and pretend to be the girl we found. Throw the Starks off our scent, so to speak. Sheâs quite a good actress,â he mused. âWe hadnât given them too much information, anyway, so it shouldnât be too hard to convince them that Ramsay needed to question her for a crime, or that some crazed fan showed up wanting attention. Whatever excuse he comes up with, itâs in his hands now.â
âBut you were going to have the Starks question me,â you pressed, confused. âWhat changed?â
âThat you know him,â Domeric answered simply. âYou donât know anything about our world. Even people who have heard of the dragonmarked houses donât know a lot about the inner politics. Your ex-boyfriend obviously kept secrets from you, but the Starks are ridiculously territorial. If they found out about your abilities, theyâd insist you were theirs and take you back.â You shuddered at the thought.
You remembered Robbâs family. His father was always away on business, but his mom, Cat, was always sweet to you, and his siblings seemed so nice and⊠normal. You had felt normal when you were with him. The fence you had envied him suddenly flashed in your mind, and you realized a different sort of fence would be awaiting you if you were forced to go back with him.
âThanks for saving me, then,â you mumbled. It was genuine, but Domeric quirked an eyebrow.
âYou know, most people wouldnât thank their kidnappers.â
âYou didnât kidnap me. Ramsay did. And I ran away from Robb for a reason. I donât want anything to do with him or his family.â Your arms were crossed and your lips settled into a pout as you said it. You felt Domericâs gaze on you for a moment longer before he finally spoke.
âLetâs hope you feel differently about us, then.â
Domeric drove you back to the safe house, where you hung back at the doorway as he made himself at home. You were wondering who to talk to, what to do next. Youâd always been pretty social, and even if Ramsay was a dick, Domeric and Ben were friendly. You settled on going to the kitchen and filling a kettle with water for tea. As it brewed, you leaned on the counter and daydreamed about what would happen next. Maybe Ramsay would kill Robb. You knew he didnât actually deserve it, but a small part in the back of your mind told you stillâŠ
You readied three mugs of tea, carrying one out to the living room where Domeric sat, ankle across his knee, foot bouncing impatiently, one arm across the back of the seat and the fingers of his other hand pressed to his lips as he stared at his phone on the coffee table. When you set the tea down, he looked up, surprised.
âThank you, Y/N,â he said gratefully. You gingerly leaned on one of the other seatâs armrests. âYouâre being very gracious about all this. I appreciate it.â You smiled at him.
âWell, itâs not like my life in New York was that exciting,â you conceded.
âIs that what you want?â He asked, an eyebrow quirking as he took another sip of tea. âExcitement?â You thought for a minute.
âMaybe not if I were you,â you confessed. âBut I donât have any stakes in all this. Thereâs no pressure on me to make my daddy proud or to be a steward of a dragonmarked house. I just get to follow you guys around and eat pancakes and touch your weird tattoos. Itâs kind of fun.â Domeric chuckled into his mug a little, making steam rise up, mist covering his face.
âItâs good tea.â
âYouâre British?â You asked.
âKind of. Our family is originally from here, but Father insisted we go to private school across the pond,â he said the last words with a funny lilt that made you giggle.
âYou seem calmer than Ramsay, and even your dad. Heâs calm, too, but like in an intense kind of way,â you observed. Domeric shrugged.
âI just got back into all this. I took a couple of years off. I wanted to travel the world, study a little more. Father understood. Ramsayâs entire life has been this, though. He wants to inherit the company more than anything. To be the new heir of Bolton. He feels threatened by me, I think. Because Father prefers my mild temper and because Iâm older. But I truthfully couldnât be arsed about any of it. Sometimes I think my brother will slit my throat in my sleep.â He grimaced at the last words and you thought about them for a minute.
âWell, have you told him that?â
âAh, of course. But Ramsay is suspicious by nature. Itâs a wonder my father doesnât like him more, for all that he resembles him.â You hummed in response.
âHow come you came back, then?â You asked curiously.
âI felt a sense of duty, a little bit. Responsibility. Or maybe Iâm being self-aggrandizing and I just got bored.â
âThat, I understand,â you said. You sat in silence for a minute longer when Ben entered the living room. You hopped up and brought him his own mug, which had cooled enough to hold without burning your fingertips. He smiled at you and sat across from Domeric on the other long sofa, pulling one knee up and leaning an arm on it.
âThanks, Y/N,â he said and you lifted your mug to him. You each raised your mugs in the air and took a sip before you spoke again.
âHow did you meet the Boltons, Ben?â You asked.
âWeirdly enough, I trained Ramsayâs dogs,â he said. You raised an eyebrow.
âRamsay is a dog person?â
âOh, yeah! He loves them. He has a Cane Corsoââ
âPrincess Lilah?â Domeric chimed in. Ben nodded.
âA Blue Bay Shepherd, thatâsââ
âDuchess!â Domeric cried. Ben smiled.
âYes! A Pomeranian called Jack Daniels, a mini Aussie named Maverick, a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel called Apollo Creed and a Blue Nose Pitbull called Teacup.â You were doubling over in laughter as Ben finished, and Domeric smirked alongside you. Ben looked utterly confused. âWhatâs so funny?â
âWhyââ you managed through fits of giggles, âwhy did he name his dogs like that?â
âOh! Because he thinks itâs funny that his tiny dogs have menacing names and his big dogs have delicate names,â he explained as if it were obvious. There were tears in your eyes at this point, and Ben began laughing alongside you. He finally gave in and began flipping through videos on his phone.
There were videos of Maverick at the park running a few feet, then staring back at the camera with a dopey smile on her face every five seconds, Ramsay firmly yelling for Princess Lilah to sit only for her to jump on him and give him kisses, effectively knocking him on his ass, Apollo Creed being too lazy for a walk and being literally dragged on her leash, Jack Daniels shredding an entire roll of toilet paper on the bed and spinning in circles barking angrily when they laughed at her, Teacup sitting with her butt directly on Roose as he looked less than amused, and Duchess howling at the treats cabinet like she was singing an opera. By the time you watched them all, even Domeric cracked at your reactions and you were all falling off the couches laughing. Thatâs how Ramsay found youâ cracking up with tears in your eyes on the floor of the safe house living room. He was too shocked to even speak as he stood above you all, staring especially at Ben and Domeric. You vaguely noticed a little black book tucked in his crossed arms.
âWould anyone care to fill me in?â He finally asked. You looked at him, clutching your stomach as you willed your abs to stop contracting so you could have a break.
âRams⊠Ramsay you,â you breathed out through giggles. âYou have to let me meet your dogs.â He raised an eyebrow at Ben, who was curled in the fetal position laughing. He finally cracked a smirk as he sat down at the seat across from you, crossing an ankle over his knee, twirling the little notebook in his hands as he waited for you all to settle down.
âYouâve got yourself a deal, sweetheart,â he said. Your head was tossed back on the seat behind you, your disheveled hair in front of your face, the column of your neck exposed, and droplets of sweat decorating your collarbones, but you peaked down at him. You werenât expecting that. Youâd thought maybe he would yell at you, or scoff his disapproval.
âReally?â You asked.
âMm,â he hummed in agreement. âIn fact, we can leave now.â
âYouâre joking,â you said. He shrugged.
âI donât see why not. Iâd prefer to have you right under my nose and the safe house is such a drive.â
âThank you!â You squealed, sitting up suddenly. âCan Domeric and Ben come, too?â
âI would expect nothing less,â Ramsay sighed, standing back up and facing the door. He turned around for a split second, his blue eyes sparkling as he tossed the little black book at you. Your sketchpad. You opened it to find the sketch you'd drawn of him in the car. He'd autographed it in obnoxious black pen, which would've made you roll your eyes, had you not been caught up on another detail.
The drawing had changed. Where before it had been a side profile of him staring fixedly at the road, now its lips were etched into a smirk, eyes staring hypnotizingly back at you. You looked up from the book long enough to see the exact same expression mirrored on Ramsay's face.
-
If youâd like to be added to the taglist for this fic, please let me know! <3
so embarrassed to realize i said asks/reqs were open and i didnât even have my asks on. i couldâve sworn i had them on. no worries, they are on now!
as a holiday treat... here is some of my dream casting for the As My Witness characters so far. the names of the characters and actors are in the captions! i donât own any of these characters, they belong to George R. R. Martin! this is purely a work of fan fiction. if youâd like to read my story, you may do so here. love you all!
germansingergirl
romaincrisis
origamiaround
turnnoffyourmind
jbbartram-illu