Sorry! I almost added the link to the last ask, too. Here’s the prompt/WDWG proposal fic:
Ahhhh some prompts I just read and immediately see the whole fic play out in my head and this is one of them, omg <3 I hope you enjoy this anon!
In which Steve and Tony open a bakery called Sugar Daddy.
“Think we’re ready for this?” Steve asks Tony when he emerges from the kitchen. He peers through the slats in the blinds at the front of the store and smiles when he sees Natasha, Bucky, Sam, and Rhodey already lined up outside their little shop. Steve had assumed he’d be the nervous one of the two of them, but Tony looks down right green.
“I guess so,” he says now, wiping down the spotless counter and gazing around the room. The cake cases were full of beautiful cakes and cupcakes, the entire top shelf was stocked for the morning with danishes and muffins that looked as incredible as they smelled, and they’d done so many test runs they both know they could run a bakery in their sleep. All they had to do was flip the sign at the front of their brand new bakery, Sugar Daddy, from Closed to Open for the first time.
“We already have a line,” Steve smiles Tony, trying to ease the worry from his face, but instead it becomes even more pinched.
“How is that possible?” Tony demands, taking a shaky breath. He increases the speed of his wiping, worrying at his bottom lip with his other hand.
“Pretty sure that counter is immaculate. You might actually rub a hole into granite, which I’ve always assumed is impossible,” Steve points out. He crosses the room to Tony and rubs his shoulders reassuringly. “C’mon, we’ve done this a million times. You’re amazing. We’re going to be amazing. The line is just Rhodey and Nat,” Steve adds. “And maybe Bucky and Sam, but they’re so sickening when they’re together they basically just count as one being at this point,” Steve says, hoping for a laugh.
I might write a proposal fic later tonight since Rome at night have me inspiration for it 👀
Marry Me (Say You Will)
Genre: fluff, reality based, proposal fic
Warnings: mentions of alcohol/drunkenness, mentions of coming out, mentions of sex/implied sex
written in small installments as chapters
a plan or suggestion, especially a formal or written one, put forward for consideration or discussion by others.
Here you are darling Anon!! <3 I hope you enjoy!
Derek watches as the latest big bad paces in front of him. It’s some low life rogue werewolf who thought he could get away with messing with the Hale pack. He can hear his betas outside the warehouse and he smirks.
“You think your pack is so strong but I captured you so easily, Derek,” the guy says. Derek barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. It’s not hard to take someone unawares and literally hit them over the head when their back is turned. It was a coward’s move.
“So what’s your plan, buddy?” Derek asks because he’s genuinely curious.
The guy finally stops pacing and steps up right in front of Derek. “If I kill you I get alpha powers.”
Derek raises his brow. “Then why am I still breathing?” The guy chews on the side of his thumb. “Ah,” Derek murmurs. “Never killed anyone before.”
“I have not,” the guy murmurs before elongating his claws.
Suddenly, the warehouse begins to shake. The windows all begin to bang and the roof rumbles like thunder. Derek smiles and rolls his eyes because of course Stiles has to make everything so theatrical.
“What the hell?”
Derek watches as the front door blows straight off the hinges, flying across the warehouse. His insides flutter in that pleasant way anytime Stiles steps into a room.
The guy in front of Derek visibly flinches, his eyes wide with fear as Stiles finally enters the warehouse. Stiles’ magic lights up the entire room, his eyes bright purple.
“You picked the wrong pack to mess with, dude,” Stiles says, his voice somehow bigger whenever he’s using his magic, echoing around the warehouse.
Derek uses his claw to cut the ropes around his wrists while the guy is distracted. Stiles lets literal flames flow in his palms until the guy lets out a whimper of fear.
Stiles uses his magic to throw his voice, whispering in the guy’s ear, “run.”
The guy tears out of the barn without another thought and Derek can’t stop himself from laughing, a full belly laugh that fills up the entire warehouse. He runs to Stiles’ side, grabbing him into a tight hug. Stiles hugs back before looking up and taking Derek’s lips in a chaste kiss.
“Marry me,” Derek murmurs against Stiles’ lips.
Stiles freezes, his eyes widening. “What the hell? You can’t just ask that right now!”
Derek shrugs. “Why not? You saved me. Again. And seeing you work your magic and kick ass just made me realize I wanna spend my entire life with you.” Derek runs his thumb over Stiles’ cheekbone. “So marry me.”
Stiles rolls his eyes. “I always knew seeing me fight got you all hot and bothered.”
Derek snorts. “That a yes?”
Stiles nods his head. “Yeah. It’s a yes, you big softie.”
“Oh god,” Derek groans, his forehead touching Stiles’. “I love you. Even if you are a huge pain in the ass.”
Stiles walks them towards the exit, his arm around Derek’s waist. “You’re the one who got captured.”
“Yeah,” Derek murmurs, “this time.”
“You’re lucky I actually care about my fiance enough to come rescue him.”
“And you’re lucky your fiance is the alpha of his pack.”
Stiles hip checks him before taking off into the woods towards their home. Derek lets out a playful growl as he runs after him. This is them and it’s perfect.
“Who knew Neil could sing?” Allison muses. “He’s really good.”
“Yeah, give it a minute,” Andrew says, turning off repeat and adding Stevie Wonder’s Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I’m Yours) to the queue. He waits until Downtown ends, and Neil laughs quietly 一 Andrew has a history of randomly changing his music on Spotify一 hips swaying as he sings along, to speak.
“I’m gonna propose now, y’all might want to get out your cameras.”
read it here
Birthday fic for Lena @jamesandharrystuff !! I saw you and @ivymaples talking about potential proposals and whoops, this happened. I hope you’re having a wonderful birthday! Aries is the best star-sign ;)
“As lovely as this afternoon has been,” Marnie says, putting her cup back in its saucer with a precise ‘clink’, “I would very much like to know what it is that you are after.”
Harry tries very hard to keep the disappointment from twisting his features. He actually thought that he was being quite subtle.
“Who says I have to be after anything,” Harry tries, wondering if there is any way that he can salvage the situation.
“Oh please. Over the last year you have picked up so many of James’s habits it’s rather endearing. And whenever James wants something, he makes sure that we go out for a nice day of retail therapy and high tea before he drops the bombshell.” She selects one of the dainty cucumber sandwiches from the cake stand and consumes it in two lipstick-red bites. “I’m not complaining; I just want to know. You and James aren’t in any trouble, are you?”
“No!” Harry rushes to reassure her. “No, everything is fine with us. Better than fine. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Ah ha! I knew there was something,” Marnie says, victoriously. “You should never doubt a mother’s instincts when it comes to her boys…”
Harry almost doesn’t register what she has said; he’s too busy eyeing up the last smoked salmon sandwich and wondering if he can subtly grab it before Marnie does. He wonders what his former self would make of this situation and his new-found love of pretentious food. But eventually, he realises what her words have implied. She’s been doing this for ages – slipping in little references to how Harry has become part of the family. Marnie gave him a watch for his birthday that she proudly told him used to belong to her father. She made him help James carve the Turkey at Christmas because of some Nightingale tradition. She made a very strange tasting cocktail for New Year’s and made him, James and Romeo all try it, using the same excuse of “it’s tradition!” If Marnie thinks Harry doesn’t know what she’s doing, she’s very wrong.
But that’s why he’s brought her here, after all.
Peter really doesn’t drive that often.
He’s either being driven or swinging across new york, but when he does drive, it’s the red aston martin tony got him for his nineteenth birthday which he insisted was too flashy for about two days before finally getting in it and going oh.
Peter really doesn’t drive that often. But when he does drive, it’s because he doesn’t want anyone to know where he’s going and he can’t go as spiderman. That leaves a very small area on the imaginary venn diagram of situations.
And going to Cartier for that ring he ordered and paid for by an anonymous account is one of them.
Thick bright gold visible from a distance with veins of vibranium (courtesy Shuri). He held it in his palm, smiling down at it before securing it in the box and placing it carefully in the glovebox, looking at it to see that it—
There’s another box.
Similarly sized. Red velvet. Peter’s heart is racing. It’s dusty. His eyes sting. Dusty. Oh god. He can’t even bring himself to open it but he does and sobs, once. It’s perfect. A narrow band of vibranium (oh god, that was why Shuri was so unsure) with a single inset solitaire.
“Tony,” he gasps wetly on the phone, cutting off his cheery greeting, “How long has that ring been in my glovebox?”
“Not that long! Four months. Honestly, I was slightly worrie—”
“four months!” He squawked, “You know I don’t drive often!”
Tony laughed, confidence cracking, “And I’m not good with confrontations.”
Jes: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this one!
Sarcasm Prompt 3 - “Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?”
Adjusting the cuffs of his suit jacket Draco turns in front of the mirror, checking again that every line of the custom cut material is where it should be. His hair is long again, hanging in his eyes and he has to toss his head to bring it back into place. He would cut it but well -
“Are you still primping? We’re going to be late you vain bugger.”
Draco turns his head to the door way and the hair sweeps back into his eyes, partially obscuring the assessing grey as it sweeps over the figure there.
Predictably, Harry’s gaze is drawn to the movement of his hair, his lips twitch and his eyes are light and when Draco has Harry Potter leaning indecently in his doorway, looking positively edible in his own sinfully form fitting suit and getting distracted by a simple thing like an imperfect strand of hair in Draco’s face, well, he thinks even his father might forgive him for letting it stay slightly unkempt.
Draco lifts a brow, that same old haughty expression tempered by an underlying warmth that only makes Harry grin when he turns his gaze back to the mirror to finish his adjustments.
“Late, Draco. As in we are dangerously close to not being on time.”
Suppressing an answering twitch at the corner of his mouth Draco merely makes a show of dusting off an invisible bit of lint that would never have the audacity to land on this immaculate (and charmed) suit in the first place. “Do I get bonus points if I act like I care?” He drawls, eyes meeting Harry’s in the mirror.
Harry huffs a laugh and shakes his head as he comes up behind Draco, not falling for it for even a moment and he drops his head to Draco’s shoulder, intentionally stroking his chin over it to bunch up the material. “You’re the terrifyingly punctual one here okay, I’m merely attempting to stick to the outlined timeline.” He tips his head, nips at the lobe of Draco’s ear before he pulls back. “Prat.”
Resisting a shiver Draco nudges Harry back out of his way and smooths the fabric on his shoulder. “Wanker.” He answers lips twitching again in a small smile he can’t quite suppress. “Get out of here, I’m almost finished, we wont be late.”
With an overly dramatic huffed sigh Harry leaves Draco to finish and Draco turns back to the mirror. “Steady on darling,” the mirror says kindly and Draco takes in a fortifying breath, nods to it and checks his pocket one last time for the small black box, light and unbearably heavy at the same time. Tonight will be perfect, it has to be.
It’s another five minutes before Draco is satisfied that everything is place and when Draco completes the side along apparition they are right on time and everything, except his hair, is perfectly in place.
Later, when Harry beats Draco to the punch by pulling out his own small box he can’t help the disbelieving groan. He has to hurry to produce his own to explain the reaction and he can’t even be mad that the bloody wanker beat him again because they both chose this, this place. this moment, and each other forever and Draco is grinning in front of witnesses in that way that’s reserved for only Harry and laughing when he’s swung around. Somewhere nearby cameras are flashing and neither of them can be bothered to notice.
Later the world will ooo and awe over the pictures and the romance of the joint proposal and they’ll be flooded with owls and floo calls and nosy family but right now there is just Harry and Draco, two perfectly chosen rings and a promise of forever.
ohhh man that’s cute as hell!! and I’m really feeling proposals tonight….Geno getting on one knee and wincing because his knee aint so good these days but it’s so worth it to see Sidney cover his mouth with his hands and see those eyes brimming with tears. OR Sidney getting on one knee and before he even finishes, Geno is already scooping up his boyfriend-now-fiance to shower kisses on his face and saying, ‘Yes, yes yes yes yes!”
“I didn’t even ask yet,” Sidney laughs, because Geno’s beard is rough on his own cheek and he’s so happy he feels he could fly.
“Why else you get on one knee?” Geno asks, between kisses. “Besides, I hear you practice in front of mirror for three weeks. You make me wait so long, I’m thinking if you not ask this weekend, I’m ask.”
And what else can Sidney do, besides wrap his arms around Geno’s broad shoulders and tuck his face in Geno’s neck? “I wanted to finish my speech. I had Flower proofread it, and that turned out to be a lot more embarrassing than I thought it’d be.”
“Sorry,” Geno says. “You can say speech now.”
“Well, now I’ve forgotten it all,” Sidney admits. “I have it written down somewhere, though. I’ll show you later.”
“Of course you write down, pen and paper.”
Sidney reels him in for a kiss, a sweet, proper one. “Will you marry me? Well. You already said yes but. Just wanted to make sure.”
Geno snorts, but his face is so fond that Sidney almost doesn’t mind.
“Unless you say something mean about me in speech, I’m not change mind,” Geno murmurs.
“I’d never,” Sidney says, rolling his eyes. “I wrote that you don’t clip the tortilla bags properly after you open them and I still love you, so I think we can manage the other things.”
“No right way to close them, you just picky,” Geno whines, but his eyes soften as he kisses Sidney’s forehead. Sidney’s knocked breathless with the sudden giddy feeling that the future–their future–feels so impossibly bright and endless. “Yes, Sidney Crosby. I’ll marry you.”
I’m a bit bored and I promised an AgentReign proposal oneshot soon, so GUESS WHAT YOU GUYS GET TONIGHT????
I’m excited to be giving y'all what the SG writers refuse to give us.