#[hope everyone had a lovely weekend and that this new week is a wonderful one! <3]

[coollyinterferes]

waking up to a bleeding nose and bleeding everywhere like it's some kind of horror film.... if horror films even existed in Victorian times that is...

"Fuckin' hell...."

[worseforwords]

The Arrangement

(Alessia Russo x Reader)

Chapter I of Marshmallow

“Sweetheart? Can you hear me?” your mom’s voice cackled through the phone. “Take your phone off your ear, mum, you’ve facetimed me,” you chuckled. “Oh, right. Hi, darling, lovely to SEE you,” she giggled at her own joke. “How are you, love? And where are you? I don’t recognise that wall behind you,” she inquired. “I’m in the changing room at Arsenal, you know, my job.” “Right, ‘course. Everything alright? How’s your g-” “Yeah, everything’s good,” you quickly interrupted her, hoping no one in the changing room caught on to what she was about to say. “I have to head to training soon, mum. Did you want anything from me?” “Right, busy woman, no time for chit-chat with her mum. Your dad and I were just wondering if we could come visit you anytime soon. We haven’t seen you since Christmas, and we would both really love to meet your girlfriend!” She said that last part with a bit too much excitement, and you were sure you saw some heads snap your way from the corner of your eye. “Ehh, yeah, I’m just a little busy at the moment with football, so I’m not sure when I’ll be free,” you said as you quickly turned down the volume of your phone. “I know, darling, but I noticed there’s no match scheduled the weekend after the next one, so you’ll be free then, right?” Another disadvantage of being a professional athlete: usually having a very public schedule. “Right, yeah, I think so. I’ll call you after training, mum.”

You hung up after both of you exchanged goodbyes and you immediately noticed a few eyes on you. One pair belonged to a smirking Katie, who quickly plumped herself down next to you. “What was that I heard? Does somebody have a new girlfriend?” “What the hell, why haven’t I heard about this?” Leah joined in. “Lotte, did you know?” Your roommate Lotte shook her head. “Haven’t seen or heard anyone at our house.” “How is that even possible?” Victoria wondered out loud. “Is it a long-distance thing?” Caitlin joined in on the conversation. By this point, you were surrounded by your teammates, gazing at you, awaiting answers, and your head was spinning, trying to come up with anything to explain your situation.

Ultimately you decided on just telling them the truth, knowing full well a lie wasn’t getting you out of this situation. “There is no girlfriend,” you said quietly. Clearly, your answer wasn’t satisfactory as everyone kept staring at you frantically. “My parents kept asking me when I would finally bring someone home because my brother and sister are both happily married or engaged homeowners starting their own families. They keep telling me not to wait until it’s too late. At Christmas, when they started again, I finally snapped. I lied and told them I have a girlfriend.” You took a quick breath before you continued. “Only it backfired because now they won’t stop asking me about her, and apparently, I have to find a girlfriend within the next week or so.” You let your head fall into your hands dramatically. There was a short silence as everyone around you processed what you had just told them. Then a loud shriek as Katie burst out laughing. “Oh boy, you’ve gotten yourself into some trouble, mate!” she shouted. “Good luck with that.”

The next few minutes were filled with everyone either light-heartedly teasing your situation or attempting to play matchmaker and find you a girlfriend, which you knew was futile with only 10 days to go. This was precisely why you avoided going on dates. All the unwarranted attention and people meddling in your life, you didn't need it. You’d rather concentrate on the love of your life that you did have some control over: football. Fortunately, Kim took her captaincy very seriously and summoned everyone out of the changing room for training to begin, but not before sending you a sympathetic smile as you mouthed a quick “thank you” to her.

Training went by swiftly, and afterward, some of the girls gathered at Beth and Viv’s for dinner. You sat on the sofa with Laura and Viv as Alessia was directing Vic in the kitchen, and Beth was setting the table. “So, Y/N, are you going to tell your parents the truth about your girlfriend... or lack thereof?” Laura asked. “I don’t know; it’ll be so embarrassing. And I definitely won’t be able to hold off on them trying to set me up with their neighbour’s son, who is studying to be a doctor, or my mum’s colleague’s daughter who’s in law school.” You imitated your mom as you talked about the people your parent wanted to set you up with before dramatically making a barf gesture. “But what else can you do?” Viv asked. “Let’s see... Fake my own death and start a new life elsewhere? Start studying robotics and learn to design my own robot girlfriend? Pretend I’ve got short-term memory loss and have forgotten who my own girlfriend is?”

“Okay, I need to join in on this, scoot,” Beth waved her hands, gesturing for you to move over. “The fact that you thought of building a robot girlfriend before considering finding an actual girlfriend is insane,” she said, almost like she was scolding you. “I get it,” mumbled Viv as Beth immediately sent her a stern glare to which she responded with by blowing her a quick kiss. “I don’t want a relationship right now. Besides, 10 days is way too little time to find someone,” you said, ignoring their antics. “Fine, have it your way, go with the robot. Vic can help you; she’s studied maths,” she joked as she got up again. “Excuse me,” Vic got involved from the kitchen. “Which of my subjects do you think is about robot girlfriends?” She giggled. “I say go with the Dory thing.”

“Vic, stir this sauce for a bit, please,” Alessia spoke sternly as she turned towards all of you. “Okay, I can’t believe no one has thought of this, but the solution is very simple. You just find someone who can pretend to be your girlfriend for the weekend your parents visit,” she explained as all of you listened. “Yes! Less, that’s a perfect plan,” Beth exclaimed. “But who should it be? Maybe you can hire an actor!” She added as you seriously considered this option for a moment. “Hm, I don’t know, seems kind of risky if they don’t really know me,” you said. 

“Yeah, you should probably pick a friend, someone you’ve known for a while and who knows what you’re up to these days,” Laura stated. “Sooo, maybe a teammate?” Vic suggested. “Yes!” Beth shouted again. “A teammate. But who? Obviously not someone who is openly dating someone else already, so me and Viv are out,” she then stated more calmly. “Laura and I can’t make it either, we’re going out with the Aussies, remember?” Vic asked as Laura nodded.

A silence fell as everyone sort of stared at Alessia, who was too focused on her cooking to notice. “Less?” Beth caught her attention, making her jump a little when she noticed everyone’s hopeful gazes fixated on her. “Are you available?” she asked. “Oh yeah sure, I’ll do it.” Alessia sent you a quick smile before continuing to make dinner. “That settles it then,” Beth said, giving you no say in the matter whatsoever. If you were being honest, though, you were just glad you had found somewhat of a solution to your problem. Besides, you didn’t know Alessia that well, the two of you usually being in different friend groups within the team and you had been intrigued to get to know her better for a while now.

The next few days in training everyone was mostly focussed on the game ahead. Some new pieces of gossip flooded the changing room and much to your delight, you and your love life were left unspoken of. It almost seemed a bit too good to be true, and you were now starting to worry it had all been a joke that you took too seriously. After all, the whole plan was a bit insane, definitely unlike anything you had ever done before. Were you just too desperate to notice that it was all banter?

"Everything alright, Y/N?” Alessia's voice jolted you from your mental spirals. “You seem a bit distracted.” “Yeah, all good. My mind just wandered for a second.” You feigned a smile. “Okay.” She returned the smile. “Hey, Alessia,” you began before she could exit the changing room. “Can I talk to you for a second?” “Yeah, of course. What’s up?” She settled herself beside you.

“So, you know about our crazy fake girlfriend plan, and—” “Correction, it’s my crazy plan, not ‘our’. My idea.” She interjected with a satisfied expression. “Right, your crazy plan. Anyhow, I realise you were put on the spot when Beth asked if you were available. I just wanted to say you don’t have to do it; I can find someone else,” you spoke hesitantly. “Oh no, I want to do it. Unless you’d prefer someone else, of course.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” you quickly clarified. “Alright then, let’s do it.” You offered a shy smile. “Ehh, I hope that’s not how you planned on asking me,” she giggled. You shot her an ‘are you serious?’ look. She responded with what you assumed was her best ‘yes, I’m serious, how dare you even question that’ expression. “Give me one second.”

You darted around the corner, returning a few seconds later with a ring made from bright blue kinesiology tape. “Alessia Russo, will you do me the honour of being my fake girlfriend for the weekend?” you proposed, getting down on one knee before her. “Yes, YES, a thousand times yes!” She dramatically pretended to swoon as you slid the makeshift ring onto her finger.

“Right, so my parents will be visiting from Friday night until Sunday, most likely,” you swiftly changed the subject, attempting to avoid any blush creeping onto your cheeks. “But you don’t have to be there for the entire duration, of course. If you could just pop in for a bit on Saturday, that would be great,” you suggested. “Oh, well I don’t really have any other plans because I assumed this would be an all-weekend kind of thing,” she replied softly, and you felt the warmth in your cheeks intensify. “And Dan is out of town anyway.”

Right, Dan. Her boyfriend. You were aware of him, you had met him – this wasn’t new information. So why did you suddenly feel a knot tightening in your stomach at Alessia mentioning him? “So, what do you want me to be like?” She brought you back from your thoughts. “What do you mean?” You asked. “I mean, how do you want me to be around your parents? We’ve got to impress them, right?” She explained. “Oh, just be yourself. They’ll love you. I know they will,” you assured her as she got up from the bench, ready to go warm up.

“Whatever happened in here?” Leah asked as she entered the changing room, followed by some other girls, right after Alessia had left. “What do you mean?” You inquired. “Well, Less just almost walked into me; she was all flustered and smiley, and now here you are, looking all flustered and upset,” she explained. “Nothing happened. I’m not upset. Just a bit nervous about my parents visiting and everything,” you lied. Either Leah didn’t notice or she decided to let you off the hook, but either way, she didn’t ask any further questions about it. As one of your best friends, Leah knew you very well, and she also knew that questioning you in a room full of people was the worst thing she could do to you. 

“So is Less still coming?” Beth inquired. “Yes,” you mumbled, not wanting everyone to get involved again, but with no success. “Less?” Katie jumped in. “Why would she come?” Luckily, Beth came to your aid and explained the whole situation to everyone there so you didn’t have to.

“That’s a great plan,” Katie finally spoke. “But how will we make it believable?” “I’m sorry, we?” You tried to interrupt. “We should quiz them!” Beth suggested loudly, ignoring you entirely. “What is happening?” You mumbled to Leah who just laughed at you in response. “Yes! Lotte, can you come up with some questions about Less, and Leah, you can do the same for Y/N.” 

Somehow, everyone had agreed on the quiz idea, and once again, you had no say in it. On Wednesday night, a few of the girls gathered at Lotte and your place to prepare you and Alessia for the weekend. The anticipation in the air was as thick as the excitement before a big match. Tables were set up, and a stack of papers with questions lay in the centre. Lotte, with her mischievous smile, and Leah, ever ready for a good laugh, were the architects of this grand interrogation.

You, Alessia, and the rest of the team settled in around the living room. The atmosphere was a mix of nerves and amusement, everyone eager to see how this plan would unfold. Beth, who put on an oversized blazer and a bright red Arsenal bowtie for the occasion, took charge, announcing the rules with a theatrical flourish.

“Alright, everyone! Welcome to the Ultimate Fake Girlfriend Quiz Night!” She exclaimed, earning a round of laughter. “We’ve got questions about Y/N for Alessia and questions about Alessia for Y/N. Let’s see how well our fake couple knows each other.” The room erupted into cheers. Lotte, holding a list of questions about Alessia, winked at you. Leah, armed with questions about you, looked equally mischievous.

The first round began, and Leah fired off questions about you. Alessia, to everyone’s surprise, answered with remarkable accuracy. “Alright, Alessia,” Leah said with a smirk, “what’s Y/N’s guilty pleasure snack?”

Alessia pondered for a moment, a playful glint in her eyes. “Chocolate-covered pretzels. She hides them in the back of a cabinet, but I always find them.” Laughter filled the room. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at Alessia, impressed and slightly amused that she had picked up on your secret indulgence. Apparently her close friendship with your roommate had given her quite an advantage.

Lotte, taking her turn, quizzed you about Alessia’s life. “What’s Alessia’s weirdest talent?” she asked with a sly grin. You thought for a moment, realising Alessia had shared a few quirky skills in the changing room. “She can do this weird thing with her tongue, like roll it into a clover shape. It’s bizarrely impressive.”

Alessia blushed, seemingly surprised that you remembered such a minor detail. The room erupted into cheers again. As the quiz progressed, Alessia consistently demonstrated an uncanny knowledge of your habits and likes. It seemed like she had been paying much more attention than you thought.

The highlight came when Leah, with a devious smile, presented the final question: “What’s Y/N’s weirdest habit in the morning?” Alessia, grinning confidently, answered, “She talks to herself in the mirror while doing her hair. Full-on conversations with her own reflection.” Your face turned crimson, and a chorus of laughter echoed through the room. You shot Alessia a playful glare.

The quiz ended and the consensus was clear — Alessia and you knew each other surprisingly well, considering this was supposed to be a fake relationship. However, Katie, ever the provocateur, couldn’t resist stirring the pot.

She leaned forward with a teasing grin. “So, you two aced the quiz, but do you even have any chemistry?” Her question hung in the air, causing a collective intake of breath from the spectators. Alessia looked at you, a subtle uncertainty in her eyes. “Seriously, guys, you need to up your game. You look way too platonic.”

Your teammates, now fully invested in your fake romance, decided to play relationship coaches. “Alright, stand up,” Beth commanded. “Let’s see how you two handle physical proximity. Hug. Now.” You and Alessia exchanged a glance, both feeling a bit awkward. You hesitated for a moment before tentatively wrapping your arms around each other. The teammates observed and then erupted into a chorus of opinions.

“Too stiff!”

“More like you mean it!”

“Look into each other’s eyes, not the ceiling!”

You and Alessia shared an amused yet bewildered look. The teammates continued their analysis, discussing everything from hand-holding techniques to the positioning of your bodies. It was like a crash course in relationship theatrics. “Alright, sit down,” Beth commanded again. “You two are sitting too far apart. Scoot closer.”

As you and Alessia moved to sit side by side, Steph suggested, “Try a more casual touch. Like, Y/N, put your hand on Alessia’s leg.” Panic flashed across your face, but you complied, very carefully placing your hand on Alessia’s leg. The room erupted into laughter again.

“Okay, she said casual, Y/N. She’s not made of thin glass now is she?” Beth joked, and Alessia chuckled as you adjusted your grip, secretly wanting to disappear into the couch. The teammates continued to give advice, critiquing every move and gesture. Amidst the laughter and chaos, Laura suggested, “You guys should try the 36 Questions. You know, that study that makes people fall in love?”

That mention drew curious looks from you and Alessia. Beth explained, “People say you’ll fall in love if you answer them honestly with someone. It could help you two look more... well, in love.” The idea was met with a mix of enthusiasm and skepticism. “Homework for our fake couple!” Beth declared, and everyone laughed.

As the evening wound down, the teammates left your place. Everyone but Alessia, who offered to help you clean the place up. Lotte went to bed, leaving you and your now approved ‘fake girlfriend’ with a newfound list of relationship do’s and don’ts, along with the prospect of a homework assignment that promised to make your fake relationship more convincing.

“So… I guess we’ve got some homework to do,” you said, feeling very awkward all of a sudden now that it was just you two. You then realised you had never really hung out together without at least one other person being there. “Yeah, 36 questions,” she started as she grabbed her phone. “Do you believe in this?”

“No of course not,” you said, ever the sceptic. “But I do believe Katie is gonna murder us if we don’t do our homework. Both of you exchanged glances like, ‘Are we really doing this?’ and rolled your eyes in silent agreement that this was a bit of a silly experiment.

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She read the first question from her phone, immediately gazing at the ceiling as if in thought about her answer. “I bet yours would be Michael Jordan,” you said. “Hey, I’m asking you about your answer not mine!” She giggled as she elbowed your shoulder. 

“Fine, let me think. Do they have to be alive?” You wondered. “I mean I guess it says ‘anyone’, so if you want to have dinner with a corpse, by all means,” she chuckled. “No, not like that, ew,” you now elbowed her. “I just mean I would love to have dinner with my grandma. She’s sacrificed so much for our family, but I only ever knew her as a child so I’ve never been able to thank her for it.” Still in thought you stared at your feet for a bit until you realised it had been quiet for a while in your living room. 

“Sorry,” you said, quickly looking up and finding Alessia’s eyes already on you with a look you couldn’t quite place. “I’ll just go with Beyoncé, she’d be a cool dinner guest,” you quickly changed your answer. “No, no, that was really sweet. I bet your grandma would love to have dinner with you too. And I’m sure she knew you’d be grateful,” she said softly, her eyes remaining on yours. “Yeah well, you just called her a corpse so that idea is kind of ruined for me now,” you teased. “No I didn’t!” She protested.

The first couple of questions were mostly light and you chuckled at each other’s silly answers. However, as you continued down the list, the questions became increasingly deep and personal and as eye-rolls turned into thoughtful pondering, you both found yourselves sharing way more than you had expected. 

Alessia’s responses were open and honest as she shared stories about her childhood dreams, the hurdles in her football journey, and her aspirations beyond the pitch. One question, in particular, struck a chord: “If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?” Alessia’s response was heartfelt. “I’d want to be fearless. Not just on the field, but in life. There are times when I feel held back by my own doubts and fears. I’d love to face everything without that weight.”

Her openness made it easy for you to share your own dreams and fears. The conversation flowed easily, moving through topics of love, aspirations, and personal histories. It felt like something shifted between the two of you. Alessia was no longer just a teammate or a fake girlfriend to you. She was someone you could talk to, someone you felt a genuine connection with and you had a newfound appreciation for her.

By the time you had finished the first set of questions you finally looked at the time. “Oh my god, Alessia, it’s 2 am!” You both jumped up. Two hours had passed since everyone had left and you had an early training the next morning. “Really? How did that happen. I should run then,” she said.

“Hey, do you want to stay over?” You asked as you immediately noticed her questioning expression. “In the guest room I mean. Just cause we have an early training tomorrow and I don’t want you to be exhausted.” You quickly added. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” She smiled shyly at you. “Okay, be right back.” You stated as you sprinted towards your bedroom.

You returned a few minutes later with a bunch of stuff in your arms. “Here’s an unused toothbrush, towels are in the bathroom cabinet, and I didn’t know what you like to sleep in so here’s some shorts, joggers, a t-shirt and a hoodie. Wear whatever you want.” You rambled nervously as she chuckled. “Thank you Y/N. Good night.”

The next morning, your alarm blared, pulling you from the depths of sleep. Groggily, you stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Training awaited, and as you yawned your way through the morning routine, the events of the previous night flashed in your mind. You couldn’t help but glance at Alessia, who was already up, seemingly more awake than you were. She flashed you a tired yet friendly smile. “Morning,” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. “Morning,” you replied, trying to shake off the remnants of your dreams. The two of you exchanged a glance, a silent acknowledgment of the peculiar situation you found yourselves in.

As you headed to training together, you couldn’t ignore the amused glances from your teammates. Alessia, clad in your training gear because she hadn’t brought her own, was the target of playful banter. “Nice walk of shame, Alessia!” Katie teased, eliciting laughter from others. “You two look tired, looks like our chemistry experiments worked a little too wel!” Quipped Beth, pointing out the bags under both your eyes.

Training progressed as usual, but not without the occasional teasing from one of your teammates. You knew none of them really meant anything by it though. Everyone knew it was just a bit and that the two of you were no more than friends. And so did you, cause that was the deal, right? 

“You know,” Alessia began when the two of you were alone for a second after Katie asked her when you were planning your next sleepover, “despite all the teasing and the fake girlfriend stuff, I’m kind of enjoying getting to know you better.” You felt your cheeks starting to flush as you took in her genuine smile. “Yeah, me too. It’s strange how these things work out.” You tried your best to reciprocate her smile without blushing too hard. What on earth was happening to you?

The day went by swiftly as the prospect of having Alessia around as your fake girlfriend all weekend had you slowly spiral into a nervous wreck. When Friday afternoon finally arrived, you stood in front of the bathroom mirror as you went over the many things that could go wrong. What if your parents didn’t believe it? What if they did? What would that even mean? What if she never even showed up cause who were you to think she would do something like that for you? What if her boyfriend got mad? What if she suddenly started liking you, for real? What if she didn’t?

You splashed water in your face, desperately trying to stop your mind from spiralling, and more specifically to erase those last thoughts. Where was your mind coming up with all this none-sense? Was there something more to this? Another splash. No. None-sense. You groaned as you watched drops of water trickle down your face. 

“Y/N? Everything okay?” You heard Lotte’s voice call out from the other side of the locked bathroom door. “Less is here.” You inhaled a sharp breath as you felt a familiar knot form in your stomach. “Shit,” you mumbled to yourself. “Be right there!”

“You’re early,” is the first thing you said when you came out of the bathroom after quickly drying yourself off and fixing your hair. “Nice to see you too.” A kindly smiling Alessia appeared once you opened the door. “Thought I’d help you prepare before your parents show up. Hey, are you okay?” She gazed at you as if she was examining your current state. “Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry, hi, thank you for being here.” You opened up your arms as an invitation for a hug which she accepted immediately.

“Allright, lovebirds, I’m out.” Lotte said, suitcase in hand as she hugged you both goodbye, leaving for a little romantic getaway with her boyfriend. “Have fun!” You both shouted at the same time as she closed the door behind herself.

You spent the next hour or so getting the house ready for your parent’s arrival and providing Alessia with all the necessary information on your family, as if you were doing a last minute study session for an exam.

Then, a knock on the door echoed through the house, signalling the arrival of your parents. A surge of nerves shot through you as you exchanged a quick glance with Alessia. You both took a deep breath, steeling yourselves for the upcoming performance. “Ready?” Alessia whispered, and you nodded, though your heart was doing a drumroll in your chest.

-> Chapter II

[monzabee]

T.G.I.F – cl16

Summary: The one where writing your thesis is harder than you think, but Charles is here to help you through all of it.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: stress and anxiety, having to make big life decisions, alcohol consumption and a lot of it, cursing, fluff!!

Request: “Hey Bee, I hope you’re having a lush weekend🥰 I’m not sure if you’re taking requests but I can’t stop thinking about Charles Leclerc with a super down to earth gf everyone loves. But maybe she’s got some things going on and deals with it by getting really wild when she’s drunk 🤷🏼‍♀️ thank you x” + “Hi! Would you be into writing a request for Charles, where the reader is going through some difficult time in life (could be mental health struggles, something work or "big life decisions" related, up to you), and he's being very supportive and understanding, offering help as well? ❤️”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i thought these two requests went very well together and i wanted to give it a go! if you know me then you know i’m very slow at working through my requests, but rest assured i am working on them, thank you for bearing through my slow streak with me!! and of course i had to make it about academic validation/stress because i’m not gonna lie but this master’s thing is kicking my ass and i relate to the reader very much so, lol! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Charles would not describe you as a high-strung person, not at all. If anything, you are one of the most down to earth people he’s ever met. He can’t even count all the times you’ve talked him down from a mental spiral, and given the position of his team this season, you’ve calmed him down from his stress many many times. So, imagine his surprise when the first thing he hears from his brother when he gets off his plane is that you are in the middle of a club in Monte Carlo, refusing to leave because you want to continue having fun. While he wouldn’t call you a homebody, Charles can admit that the two of you have spent more time at home instead of going out with your friends simply because of your shared love for quiet evenings and cosy nights in. It's not that you dislike socializing; it's just that both of you find joy in the simplicity of being together at home.

But now, as Charles rushes through the lively streets of Monte Carlo, he can't help but wonder what on earth has happened to have caused you to get so drunk. The sound of pulsating music grows louder as he approaches the entrance of the club. The bouncer gives him a sceptical look as Charles flashes his VIP pass, rushing inside with determination. The scene that unfolds before him is something out of character for you. Neon lights flash, and the beat of the music reverberates through the crowded space. People dance energetically, and laughter echoes against the walls. Charles spots you in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by a group of new friends, moving to the rhythm as if the world outside this club doesn't exist, and Arthur – who is trying to reason with you to get you to leave.

Charles pushes through the crowd, feeling a mix of confusion and amusement. He finally reaches you, gently tapping your shoulder to get your attention. When you turn around, the surprise on your face is evident.

“Charlie!" you exclaim, a wide grin on your face as you prolong the end of the nickname you’ve given him, “I thought you weren’t going to be back for another week!”

He raises an eyebrow, a bemused smile playing on his lips as you proceed to wrap your arms around his neck and continue jumping up and down at the same time. Placing his hands on your either side of your hips, he attempts to calm down your movements, “Well, I wanted to come home earlier to surprise you, but imagine my surprise when I realised my girlfriend is not home.” He can’t help himself as his eyes give you a worried look as he does his best to refrain from fussing over you, “Are you okay?”

“I'm more than okay, Charlie! I'm having the time of my life. Join us!” You giggle, swaying a little on your feet.

He sighs, shaking his head. "I appreciate the enthusiasm, but Arthur looks like he's about to give up on trying to get you to leave. What's going on?"

You glance over at your brother and then back at Charles. “He's just being a worrywart. I'm perfectly fine. Besides, I made some new friends!”

Charles raises an eyebrow. "I can see that, mon ange, but shouldn’t we go back home since it’s so late?"

You nod excitedly, as you choose to ignore his question – as if you’re trying to evade talking about what’s bothering you, he realises. “They're great! We've been dancing and laughing. You should meet them!”

Charles takes a deep breath, realizing that trying to reason with you in your current state might be a bit challenging. “Alright, let me meet your new friends, and then we can talk about heading home, okay?”

You nod eagerly, dragging him into the circle of your newfound companions. Arthur shoots Charles a grateful look as if to say, good luck. And he can feel that he’ll need it in the situation. And as always, Charles is a perfect gentleman as he meets with the group of girls, who are as drunk as you. You try your best to convince him to stay for a few songs, but he gives you a pleading look, which you cannot deny, as he wraps an arm around you, guiding you toward the exit. You protest playfully, wanting the night to continue, but he manages to convince you with a promise of a cosy night in together.

The walk back home is filled with laughter and the occasional stumble from you, but Charles keeps a steady arm around you, ensuring you don't stray too far off course. He is careful with you, of course, as he tries to navigate through the dimmed streets of Monte Carlo. He takes a deep breath of relief once the two of you make it to your shared apartment, and you immediately let yourself fall onto the couch to lean against the cushions with a contented sigh, your playful demeanour still intact. Charles retrieves a glass of water for you, handing it over with a gentle smile.

“Thanks, Charlie,” you say, taking a sip and leaning back against the couch. Charles sits beside you, his gaze softening as he looks at you.

“You're welcome,” he replies, his fingers gently brushing through your hair. “Now, tell me what prompted this spontaneous night out. I thought you needed to submit the final draft for your thesis.”

The fact that your reaction is instantaneous makes Charles realise that he royally fucked up by mentioning your thesis. In hindsight, he should’ve known better to bring it up, because you have been stressing over the assignment for months. You pause mid-sip, a shadow crossing your face. Charles can almost see the weight of the unfinished thesis settling back on your shoulders. Your playful demeanor fades, replaced by a more serious expression.

“Yeah, the thesis,” you say, avoiding his gaze. “I just needed a break from it all, you know? It's been consuming me, and tonight was my way of escaping the stress for a little while.”

Charles feels a pang of guilt. He should've known better than to bring up the one thing that has been causing you so much pressure. He reaches out, gently cupping your cheek to guide your eyes back to his. “I'm sorry, mon ange. I didn't mean to remind you of that. Let's talk about it. What's been going on with the thesis? Why is it stressing you out so much?”

You sigh, leaning into his touch. “It's just... I thought I'd be further along by now. The deadline is looming, and I can't seem to get everything to come together. It's like the more I work on it, the more overwhelmed I feel.”

Charles nods in understanding, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. “You don't have to go through this alone, you know. We can figure it out together. Maybe I can help, or we can find someone who can. You don't have to carry the weight of it all by yourself.”

You look up at him, leaning into his gentle touch as you close your eyes for a second to gather your thoughts, “It’s just–” You take a frustrated breath, thinking over your words once again. “I’m supposed be able to do this, how am I supposed to do a Ph.D when I can’t even write my master’s thesis properly?”

Charles listens quietly, his gaze never leaving yours. He can sense the frustration and self-doubt in your words. Leaning in, he places a tender kiss on your forehead before speaking with a reassuring tone. “You will finish it in time,” he assures you, “and you will pass with flying colours, don’t self-sabotage now when you’re almost done with it.”

“But it’s so hard,” dragging out the words as you basically throw yourself into his arms and groan against his sweater, “I just feel like I've hit a wall, and I just don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

Charles wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you bury your face in his sweater. He strokes your back soothingly, understanding the weight of your frustration. “I know it's hard, mon ange,” he says softly, his words a comforting melody. “But hitting a wall doesn't mean you can't break through it. And as for disappointing anyone, you're not a disappointment. You're human, and everyone faces challenges.” He takes a moment think, “And I say this as someone who has hit several walls-slash-barriers.”

An unexpected laughter comes from you, and to calm yourself you take a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of his sweater. “I just want to do well, to prove to myself and everyone else that I can handle this.”

Charles tilts your chin up, making you meet his gaze. “And you will. You're capable, smart, and resilient. This is just a temporary hurdle, not the end of the road. We'll find a way through it together.”

“Thank you for believing in me, even when I doubt myself.” You whisper, managing a small smile.

“Always, mon amour,” he replies, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Now, let’s get you to bed, you’re going to have a killer headache tomorrow.”

[unholybacon355]

Milk Coffee

Mina x Reader

Words Count: 3.6k

A/N: You and your coworker Mina take a lovely breakfast together this morning at the office.

It had been an intense week of work, and it just didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. You and your team were currently working into making a contract for a new client that you bring to the company, giving everyone the smallest of margins regarding time, and placing a lot of pressure upon every detail so it remained perfect. There wasn't a day in which you didn’t stay after work hours, so coffee and energy drinks had become your greatest allies.

One particular night you had seemingly fallen asleep in the office, finishing so late that it was no longer worth going home. You simply decided to sleep on a couch in the break room. Your co-worker, and faithful assistant in your arduous task, Miyou Mina, had just happened to have fallen asleep on the sofa next to you when you entered the room, so, carefully and quietly, you made your way into your own temporary bed, the couch, and slept through the night.

Mina was a cheerful girl, despite always having loads of work like everyone else she never lost her smile. Sometimes you even wondered how a girl like her had come to be your co-worker. The word beautiful fell short for the likes of her, if elegance and beauty had a baby, Mina would certainly be her name.Not just her beauty, but she also most definitely had a figure any model would envy, and that gorgeous polka-dotted face of hers could make you buy whatever product she was advertising.

The company didn’t really have any rules about relationships between colleagues,as long as it didn't affect the performance, it wasn't a problem for anyone.But maybe in another life, where you weren't so committed and invested in work, you would have tried something with her despite the small age difference between you both.

The morning after you both passed the night on the break room couches, she decided to go out for some pastries for breakfast. The well equipped kitchen in the room allowed you to make some coffee for yourself and Mina, figuring that a nice cup would wake some senses for you both.

You and Mina were basically the only people in the building. The cleaning crew didn’t work weekends, and there was still time for anyone to arrive as well. Not to mention, you had instructed everyone to come in an hour later than usual, knowing they had earned it from the gruesome week of work that raged through.

Even though you weren't the boss, you were high enough in the chain of command to make those decisions, and after all they didn't have to suffer from the extra work you brought into the office. It was fifteen minutes to nine and you knew no one would arrive until half past that hour as you had previously told them, so you knew you had some quality time to have breakfast in peace with Mina.

Who knows, maybe today you would feel a little brave to flirt with her, but just a little. After all, reactions from cute girls like Mina would naturally bring your mood to the max.One thing is certain, and that was that you hoped that your occasional glimpses of her deep cleavage or her luscious legs had gone unnoticed. Even when you stole glances at her perfectly molded butt, which, regardless of whether she was wearing a skirt or a dress, it had always managed to look deleitable.

The last few weeks, you had also noticed that her touches and glances towards you were becoming a frequent thing, the occasional brush of your arm whenever she laughed, the playful rolling of your hair whenever she stood next to your chair, and leaning on your shoulder as you took the elevator to get to your floor. Not only that, but the occasional brush of your legs, the playfulness when you both sat together, and the faint feeling of her feet brushing against your legs whenever she sat across from you were also signs that she might have been having a little too much fun with you.

But again, you wouldn’t think too much about it. Small office would always lead to a lot of interactions. It was ten minutes to nine when you heard the door opening once again, noticing your coworker entering while carrying a small box that seemingly contained the pastries.

Mina always radiated beauty even in the most occasional of outfits. A simple cream-colored blouse with a bow adorning the middle, the jacket agreeing with the skirt that showed her long legs, meaty thighs. And the high heels with straps that secured her ankles. Everything made you want to admire her more closely. You had noticed how she had touched up her makeup before leaving for the pastries, but you didn’t have the time to admire her beautiful hair cascading behind her shoulders, something you quickly did as she entered with a smile. Despite the simplicity of her clothes, Mina had managed to look radiant. As if she had belonged in a runway and not a corporate office.

"Hope I didn't take too long, there were lots of people this morning." She apologized even though in reality she had only been out for a few minutes. "Don't worry, I made us some coffee in the meantime, so I would have still waited ifit wasn’t ready for when you came- woah.” You turned and suddenly stopped, a cup in each hand and almost spilling the contents on the person in front of you.

There she was, Mina, with her back facing you, on tiptoes that attempted to reach in order to get some plates from the cabinet in the wall; so, naturally, her skirt rose, blessing you with the sight of her smooth things from behind. Her extended form made the fabric clung to her curves , giving you a clear view of the shape of her ass, the sight of her cheeks parted without any effort was a blessing.

The sudden stop made you unable to move immediately, not to mention the way you ogled at her perfect backside like an animal, so, once she put her weight back on her heels you were practically touching each other involuntarily, making Mina let out a sudden gasp, as your heart jumped at the sudden touch. Her shapely butt pressing against your erection, which had formed at the speed of sound, but who could blame you with a view so perfect?

Mina didn't say anything, she stood still for a few seconds, making you swallow hard at what was going to be happening with you and your career. But to your surprise, she did something that took your breath away completely. Against all odds, Mina began to slowly rub her bottom in circles over your erection. "Oh. Did you get that hard just from a little glance?” You couldn't believe what you had just heard, but you weren't going to complain about what was happening either. “I didn't think you were that shy. Or maybe this isn’t really what you’re into?” She added to your silence. "I've seen the way you look at me, I know you want me."

You slowly put the two cups of coffee down on the kitchen worktop, thinking about what you were about to say."If this is some kind of prank you're going to regret it." Truth was that you wanted to grab her hips and rub against her, but if it was some kind of trick to make you fall, you'd rather stay safe. Although from her apparent response, she was very convincing, and that’s because she decided to rub her ass up and down your erection behind your pants. It was painfully slow but satisfyingly hard, the pressure she put into it made her cheeks part enough so that your cock could be felt between her rear. And she, instead of saying a word, just let out a small moan.

That moan was your breaking point, not being able to resist anymore, you took her by her slim waist, making the girl let out a gasp and a moan after you pulled her towards you even more. Letting your covered shaft be smothered by her parted asscheeks. More muffled moans escaped her mouth as she straightened herself to press her whole body against you. In an almost reflexive act, you began to plant kisses on her neck, still not finding the right mindset to believe how this was happening.

Mina rested her head on your shoulder as a sigh escaped her lips the moment you moved her hips a certain way, this only gave you more access to the intoxicating aroma of her skin, as you were able to take in the sweat that covered her body mixed with the perfume that she had applied the day before. After all, neither of you had had the opportunity to clean yourselves properly since you both spent the night at the company, but far from upsetting you, it only made your desires grow by the second.

You leave her waist and raise your hands to her supple chest, kneading both her breasts, as you bring your mouth closer to hers. Smothering her neck all over while approaching her full lips, until you finally connected hers with yours. Your tongues began to tangle in such a lustful way that you thought was forgotten in you. After all, it has been a long time since you've done something like that. The constant worrying of your job made it impossible for you to be this intimate with someone, relying on sad and lonely occasionally handjobs to relieve some pressure.

Mina decided to suddenly break away from your lips, and touch, making you surprised and left wanting more, but immediately thinking that all of this was just a cause of your twisted fantasies, that she was just playing with you to end your career and take over your place. But the moment she turned and smiled made all of those thoughts fly far away. As if that wasn’t enough, she reached down to raise her skirt and you were able to see her underwear

"We have a lot of time." She breathed out before getting between your legs and pressing her center against your thigh, as you took her by her rear to help her out with her plan, making you hiss at the soft feel of her supple asscheeks on your hands, making you give involuntary hard squeeze that earned you another moan from her lips.

You glanced at the clock on the wall.Nine o'clock, which meant you still had at least half an hour before someone would arrive. More than enough time to do whatever you were going to do in that little kitchen.

Mina began to rub against your leg at a pace that was slowly increasing over time, noticing the quiet moans and irregular breaths as she rubbed herself against you, you decided to help the chase of her orgasm by squeezing even harder on her ass, and kissing her once again.

Moving a little towards the furniture beside her, pressing yourself closer to her, you squeezed her ass and pressed your knee against the furniture, lifting your leg slightly, and pressing your thigh against her drenched cunt even more. Mina had now stood on her tippy toes because this was intense for her, riding your leg with a more feverish rhythm, as you left one of her cheeks to move your hand under her blouse and up to her chest.

Once again, your lips met and your tongues began a battle that seemed to have no winner. You could feel her quiet moans in your mouth, the way her body began to shake lightly as her movements became irregular, and you were more than sure that if it weren't for the fabric of your pants you would also feel her wetness on your leg.

You were met with little resistance on her bra that you would have loved to remove it completely so you could reveal those nice pairs of tits in all their glory, but you settled for playing with her stiff nipple since she was seemingly loving it if it wasn’t by the way she began moaning loudly out in the open room of the kitchen.

You knew you didn't have time to get naked and fuck right there, so the thigh-riding athad to do it, but the fact that she was practically using you to masturbate made you painfully hard by the second, your hard cock throbbing for some attention; but you could only keep using your hands to knead her body, wanting nothing more but to help her chase out her own pleasure.

You went back to her neck, kissing, licking it, savoring it, hungry for her. Little beads of sweat were beginning to gather on her pale skin by the way she moved around your thigh, and you were more than happy to wipe them away with your tongue. The scent of her dirty body from her sex and from spending the night in the office turned you on in a way you never would have imagined.

You used the remaining hand you had on her ass, to grab the back of her neck so you could more comfortably devour her neck, so you could suck on her collarbone and lick her chin, you were freaking out over Mina’s body as her thrusts into your leg became frantic, her moans rising in volume.

She held you tightly by your shoulders and you understood that she was about to cum, you kneaded her chest with need and you kissed her again more than anything to silence her moans. She couldn't play with her tongue anymore, she was too focused on moving her hips and keeping her heels up, so you raised your leg higher to take her off the ground, and taking her up the ass again you hit her as hard as you could. Mina hid her face in the crook of your neck, and in between spasms, and screams of pleasure, she climaxed.

Her whole body trembled against yours, causing her body to collapse against your chest the moment her orgasm finally seemed to be subsiding. You kept squeezing her ass just to feel it, loving the way your fingers sank around the flesh of her supple cheeks, and squeezing hard at one cheek to pull apart from the other.

Your bodies were still so close that despite both of them being fully clothed you could feel the throbbing of her pussy against your thigh at each deep breath she too, a breath that tickled your neck, as you found that despite not having done much you were also panting as if you had just ran a marathon.

You slowly lowered your leg and lowered Mina to the ground, but she was still so tired that she could barely stand, she was still holding you and breathing against your neck.

You stayed like that in silence for a few minutes feeling each other's body, loving the feel of her ass, the constant squeeze of her breasts, just catching your breath in a small kitchen filled with the aroma of sex, and coffee.

That is until Mina started caressing your chest and then lowering her hand until she put it in your pants. She didn't even say anything, and neither did she unbutton your pants when she began handling your cock, she just reached under your clothes and wrapped her fingers around your hard shaft before she slowly began to jerk you off, slowly and with little movement because her hand and your erect member didn't leave much room inside your pants.

Forms of affection swapped as well, with Mina beginning to plant soft and chaste kisses on your neck and chin, as her other hand rubbed along your chest, she was a little shorter than you so now that she was on the ground she had to stretch out a bit to kiss you, by lifting herself on her toes, and you could still feel her erratic breath as she pumped your cock, making you shiver at the tight yet comfortable grip she held on you.

You didn't want to let go of her ass as she worked on your cock, the soft skin of her buttocks felt so good in your hands. Her tender flesh was so malleable but firm that it seemed to melt between your fingers, but you really needed Mina's hand to move more freely, so, almost against your will, you let go of her ass to open your pants and lower them just enough for your cock to spring out.

The release of your cock was welcomed by both of you, her hand now having more range of motion which increases your pleasure, however, Mina did not increase the pace, she continued to slowly masturbate you pressing her fine fingers on your throbbing cock. Twisting her at a rate that almost made your balls ache, pressing her palm on your reddened tip, making your knees weak from her delicate touch to the point where you started moaning and breathing heavily by her technique.

You needed to come soon or you were going to go crazy, besides, you knew you didn't have much time left according to the clock on the wall, it was fifteen past nine, which meant that someone might be showing up soon. But that didn't seem to matter to Mina who simply kept kissing across your jaw without a care in the world as she kept caressing your cock endlessly slowly.

Missing her supple cheeks by a certain stroke that made you rest your hands on the counter behind you, you once again moaned next to her ear, feeling your cock twitching suddenly by her touch. You took another look at the clock and started to worry, it was only ten minutes before kick-off time and you were sure your neck was covered in her lipstick; also both were disheveled and with wrinkled clothes. Not to mention that your thigh had been stained with moisture from your partner's orgasm. Somehow Mina seemed to understand your concerns and she started stroking you harder, moving her hand up and down with a frenzy she hadn't shown until now. You helped her by moving your hips to fuck her hand reaching a new level of pleasure

You could feel the pressure building up in your balls, you knew you were about to explode and it was going to be a lot. To tell the truth, it had been weeks since the last time you came, so you couldn't take it anymore. Closing your eyes and tilting your head back waiting for the release, you couldn’t see what happened next as your breath hitched and slammed onto Mina’s hand one last time.

You closed your eyes and tilted your head back waiting for the release, so you didn't see what happened next. Without stopping jerking off Mina took one of the forgotten coffee cups and pointed your cock at the dark liquid. With your eyes closed you had one of the best orgasms of your life, the release felt so good that you couldn't suppress the moans and moans that came out of your mouth. You almost fell apart right there as your legs were shaking a little, and only Mina's strong grip on your cock seemed to keep you going. Milking you to the last drop of creamy cum, she didn't stop jerking you off until she was completely sure it was all out. However, she did not let go of your shaft.

Now a little calmer you opened your eyes, and smiling for the relief you looked at her expecting to find her a mess. You thought she was going to be mad because you must have cum all over her blouse or skirt, but instead of finding the fabric ruined you saw your load floating in the coffee cup. She kissed your lips without giving you time to react, and finally she released your erection. The truth was that you would have preferred to cum in her mouth or on her body, but you didn't care at all about having done it over the coffee; after all that was the least of it.

You stared at each other for a moment as you both caught your breath, grinning like idiots, and still wanting to trade kisses. You didn't know what what had just happened meant, if it was going to be something at once or if it was going to represent the beginning of something. However, all those thoughts quickly drifted away from you when you heard the front door knob turn.

Quickly Mina gave you one last chaste kiss on your lips and separated from you heading out of the kitchen. In one hand she was holding the coffee cup with your milk, so she used the other to adjust her skirt. Before the fabric returned to their place you could see how her pretty butt practically swallowed her underwear, product of all the hustle and bustle, and how your fingers had been marked on her pale buttocks. But what made your cock hard again was watching her lift the cup to her mouth and take a deep sip of coffee before walking out to greet the newcomer.

You were stunned for a few seconds and then you realized that this was your chance to sneak into the bathroom without being seen. So even with the image of what had just happened you ran to hide to fix your clothes and clean up a bit, leaving behind your cup of cold coffee and the kitchen smelling of sex.

[bunniesanddeer]

I really really LOVE the Touch chapters with Alastor. You write it so well! Although you have a fic on touch now already I was wondering if I could request something similar?

Persoanlly I think I'd be a really affectionate and touchy person but I simply cannot initiate touch without knowing where to touch, how long, how much pressure and so on. And asking people before hand makes them really confused and tbh I hate having to explain myself and sound needy about it. Idk if it's just me having some weird thing going on.

Anyways, would you consider writing Al with a reader that just got to the hotel and is very straight forward with people about their fear of initiating physical contact during times where reader knows someone would appreciate a hug or pat or any kind of physical contact but reader can't give it them before clearing just how hey want the touch to be.

So Alastor notices that reader acts very affectionate in moments with people who initiate touch (cuddles with Angel on the couch, does Charlie's hair). But at the same time he notices that they shy away and sometimes flinch away when reader touches someone by accident (handing someone something and their hands brush, etc) and apologizes as if they had just burned them.

He goes to figure out why that is and kind of challenges reader to touch him (after him consenting of course) whenever because the struggle and fear amuses him plenty but somewhere deep down he wants them to grow comfortable and confident since that is how their personality is over all and it suits them way better than the cowardly insecure overthinking reader who is too scared to ask for a hug on an especially bad day, even when it could literally save their afterlife.

Just fluff and more physical affection and soft Alastor

You don't have to though! We have already been blessed with some amazing works by you

Would appreciate it to the moon and back if you would take this request (or add another part to your Touch chapters because I am a girl OBSSESSED and starved, hungry for more lol)

Thank you sooooo much for reading and I hope you have a lovely weekend!!!!! <3

Hi! I hope this is something like what you wanted? I had fun writing this. Sorry it took me a little while, haha.

Challenge

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Tags: Fluff, touch sensitive reader/Alastor, slightest tinge of angst

Word Count: 2,839

When you had come to the hotel, Alastor was sure you weren’t going to last long. You avoided eye-contact with others, and your hands constantly fidgeted. You shifted on your feet, and rocked back on your heels constantly. Even when standing in one place, you couldn’t seem to be still. You seemed shifty, and he was sure you would pull something, and he would have to remove you. Alas, he was wrong. You stuck around, even if your weird tendencies only got weirder.

In the several weeks you had been residing in the hotel, not once had you initiated contact with anyone, not that he had seen. Alastor was sure you didn’t like it, until he saw Angel pick you up like a stuffed animal, and make you cuddle with him while watching the television. You had melted into the embrace, nuzzling against the soft fur of Angel’s upper shoulders. So Alastor needed to keep watching, and come up with a new explanation for your behavior.

At some point, Charlie had begged to ‘play’ with your long hair, so the two of you ended up dragging everyone into the sitting room for an impromptu ‘spa’ day. Charlie sat behind you, you were nearly in her lap, braiding one section of hair, and Vaggie was painting your claws. Angel was brushing out Husker’s fur. Niffty and Sir Pentious were talking and looking at the make up laid out across the coffee table. Alastor merely watched, amused by the group's antics every once in a while. 

He watched the way your eyes fluttered when you were embraced by the girls, and the way you seemed so at ease. Nothing seemed particularly amiss. He wondered if you hadn’t been comfortable yet, and had nearly settled with that. That was, until Angel came home, nearly in tears, one day.

“Fuck!” Angel yelled, tossing his phone harshly. It was rare for Angel Dust to have such an outward burst of anger. He always put on a show of being satisfied with his work, even when he clearly wasn’t. When Angel had settled on one of the couches, his face collapsed into his hands. “I’m so fucking tired of Val…”

Angel mumbled to himself as you entered the lobby. You glanced at Angel, and then his shattered phone. You frowned, your soft features looking nearly angry, and then picked up his phone, and made your way to him. Alastor watched from the bar, interested to see how this interaction went.

“Hey, Angie. I uh, I got your phone,” you said quietly. You sat off to the side of the couch, looking out of place, and uncomfortable. 

Angel mumbled something back, and your frown grew more severe. “I uh,” your voice trailed off, and your eyes started darting around. “Do you - do you want, like, a hug? I don’t really know what you need right now, I’m sorry.”

Alastor watches as Angel turns his head and whispers something to you. He doesn’t seem confused, not like Alastor is. He is clearly missing something. His eyes narrow, and he watches as you crawl up on the couch and awkwardly settle yourself against Angel’s side. 

How bizarre! How could you possibly not know what he needed? You were a very empathetic person, always looking out for others, and you liked being held, clearly, so how would you lack this kind of knowledge.

Alastor decides to confront you about it, at a later time. He needed to know everything about this. Perhaps it would be useful!

The next day, Alastor decides to try and get you to touch him, and then go from there. (It had been a little while since he had decided to ‘wing’ something like this. How exciting! You weren’t a bore at all!) His best bet would be to invite you to assist him for the day, so he invites you to when you’re heading down the stairs that morning.

“Ah! Just the woman I was looking for! How are you this morning, dearest?” He settles his hand on the banister, near where yours is resting, and waits.

“Oh! Good morning Alastor. I’m doing okay. What is it you needed me for?” Your smile is gentle and your demeanor open, even if you can’t keep eye-contact. 

“I was wondering if you would like to assist me today? We haven’t had much ‘bonding’ time as you and the others! I was hoping to rectify that,” he responds. He keeps his normal flair and watches you giggle at him.

“Of course, Al. It’s not like I had much going on today.” You pull back from the banister and twist to look at him better. “What do you have in mind?”

Alastor merely nods, and starts leading you down to the kitchen. “I was thinking you could assist me with breakfast, and then we can do some minor paperwork! We’ll decide what to do after that.”

You happily agree, and trail after him, leaving just enough space so you can’t ump into him. 

“We are going to make french-toast, fried green tomatoes, and ham. Should be simple enough, dear!” He snaps, and the two of you are wearing aprons. You let out a surprised laugh, and smile up at him.

“I will never get over how cool that is!” 

He waves you off, and starts pulling things out of the cabinets. He hands each one to you, waiting for you to make contact. 

Then it happens.

You jerk your hand back so fast that the whisk he’d been handing to you falls to the floor with a clatter. Your whole body seems to shrink in on yourself, and your expression collapses.

“Oh. Oh, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You start rambling apologies, and it makes Alastor’s head cock to the side.

“Why are you sorry, dear?” His voice lilts with just the slightest amount of amusement, but you don’t seem to catch on to it. 

“I- I touched you! I’m sorry! I don’t know how to do it appropriately, and I’m sorry! You have more boundaries than the others and I just-” Your rambling starts to annoy him, just the slightest bit, and his eyes narrow.

“I would tell you, if I had a problem with it,” he starts. “You don’t normally have a problem. Why is it a problem now?”

You frown, harshly. It is the first time he has seen such a negative emotion on your face. (Something in him is unsettled at the sight. He ignores it, as he often does). “What do you mean? That’s not the same!”

Alastor is now genuinely confused. It is absolutely the same! How could it not be?

You seem to catch onto his confusion, and a small growl rips from your throat in frustration. “I’m okay with people touching me first, because that’s initiating contact, and they lead the whole time. It’s easier to understand what people want, and where it is okay to touch, based on how they feel, and how they are touching me. But, but when I do it first, it’s hard to know what’s okay! I don’t have someone to mimic, and it’s- it’s hard!” Your face contorts further, and you’re palpably angry. 

“All these social rules, and stuff can be so hard sometimes! It’s easier to just not do it! How can I hurt anyone if I don’t give myself the opportunity, you know?” You sigh, and drop your upper body on the kitchen island’s counter. “It sucks,” you say, your voice muffled by the counter.

Alastor feels a modicum of sympathy. You nearly have the exact opposite problem to him. You want to touch other, craving that closeness, but don’t know how to go about it. He would rather go without it, but knows exactly how to use touch on others, especially to get what he wants.

His mind whirls with thoughts of how pathetic you seem like this. You are normally so confident! Why let this silly worry prevent you from being the best you can be? His thoughts settle on a plan before he can really acknowledge it. 

“Alright then, dearest!” Alastor smacks the counter, drawing your attention. “I have an idea. A challenge, if you will. To help you get over this silly fear of yours, I challenge you to this; you must touch me every day, at least once. Each touch must be a different kind than the last, and it can’t be for the same reason.” Alastor tilts his head at you, waiting for you to take the bait.  “You are allowed to do it without asking, and it can be as big or small as you are comfortable with, but you need to do it. If you can do this, to the point where you are comfortable hugging the others without worrying about “hurting” them, then you win.”

Your head pops up from the counter, and you narrow your eyes at him. “What do I win?”

Alastor feels his grin widen. Yes, you would be fun to play with. “A small favor. Something simple. And confidence. It’s a shame that you are being held back by something so simple!”

You huff, but nod your head. “Fine. I touch you, once a day, unsolicited, and it’s gotta be different each time, or something like that. I win when I can hug everyone else without being touched first.”

“There’s my girl,” he says, watching your whole body stiffen in response. He laughs, and picks up the whisk from the floor. “Let’s continue with breakfast, yes?”

The first time you touch him is during a “movie night” that Charlie sets up the next day. She demanded Alastor participate, despite his well known hatred of television, and everything to do with that technology. You had silently approached him as the group set up pillows and blankets on the floor around the TV, and against the couches. The two of you watched idly, before you spoke up.

“Can I sit with you,” you asked softly. 

“Of course, dear! Good company might make this terrible idea more… palatable,” Alastor grumbled. You smile at him, and laugh a little. 

“Oh, the horror. Sitting with your friends, and relaxing,” you respond, tilting your head at him. His static surges for a moment, but he says nothing in response. You laugh again, although he’s not quite sure why.

When the group finally gets settled in for the movie, and the lights are turned off, he watches you shift about in your seat. Your eyes dart around the room, and your hands fidget. It takes a few minutes, the intro to the movie already going, for you to finally look at him. You scoot closer to him, more than halfway across the couch. You wait another moment, and Alastor’s eyes don’t move from your form. He just watches you fidget with amusement. Finally, you speak up, barely a whisper.

“Hey, can- can I lean on you?” You are so hesitant, and it makes his eyebrows furrow, just the slightest. 

“Of course, dear,” he whispers back, his static barely a murmur. Your body slackens, all the tension drawn out. 

“Oh, good,” you mumble, pressing your small form against his side. It takes a few moments, but then you are completely calm against him, head pressed into his arm, your hands against his waist, and knees curled up under you and tucked against his thigh. You mumble something about him being warm, and all Alastor can do is agree. 

You are so very warm, and it has him almost anxious. He isn’t sure what about, as the room is calm, and the silly animated picture-show is easily ignored. You are so very warm, and he can feel each breath your body breathes in. He can nearly hear the soft pound of your heartbeat, even over the picture-show. His nose twitches at your scent. He will have to take a far-too hot bath later to remove it. It’s fine, though. It’s all part of the game. 

Alastor ignores that you’ve fallen asleep on him. It’s for the best.

The next day, you offer him a “fist-bump”, which he doesn’t understand. You laugh, and explain the gesture, and show him how it looks.

“You do it when you did something cool, or when you’re having fun with your friends.” You smile at him and constantly gesture with your hands while you talk. It keeps his attention quite easily. “Ah, here, let’s see if you understand. What was the last cool thing you did? It can be whatever.”

Alastor thinks over the last few days exploits, and shrugs. “I made a sinner cry by merely looking at him, this morning.” 

You go stock still before bursting out laughing. “Really? Oh my gosh. Seriously, fist-bump,” and you offer your knuckles. Alastor hesitantly returns the gesture, knocking your hands together. However clumsily it was done, it makes your smile wider. “Nice! Yeah, that’s exactly how you do it!”

If he tries the gesture on the others later on, he never tells you. Charlie got a kick out if, though. He refuses to tell her who told him about it. 

One day, you’re assisting Niffty cleaning, but can’t reach a spot way too high for either of you to get. Neither of you can find a ladder, and Alastor is watching with a far too delighted smile. When you spot him, you smile mischievously.

“Alastoorrrrr,” You call, your eyes narrowing playfully. “Come here. Please.”

He strides over, not letting his hesitance show. “What can I do for you, my dear?”

“Can I get up on your shoulders? I need to be able to reach that spot with the duster.” You point up at where you need to dust. He looks over at it, and realizes you are definitely not getting  up there without help.

Alastor cocks his head at you, thinking over the logistics, and then nods. He kneels down, and feels you pull yourself onto his back, propping each leg over his shoulders. When you are still, hands gently around his neck, he stands up straight. He feels you wobble and then balance with a laugh. Your hands let go of him. He feels each breath and laugh and words from you gently vibrate his head with how close the two of you are. 

“I’m so tall! Hahah! This is great! I wish I was always this tall, haha!” You keep laughing, and readjust your duster, pointing at your destination. “Onwards, my steed!”

Alastor rolls his eyes at your antics, but obliges, standing closer to where you need to be. Niffty is squealing, and it’s making you laugh harder. Alastor joins in at some point, and then the three of you are running around the first floor of the hotel, terrorizing the others with your hijinks.

Alastor thinks, privately, that you make him laugh over the little things, something that he hasn’t done in a while. He isn’t sure how to feel about it.

It’s several weeks after the challenge had been initiated, that he finds you hiding in a side-closet. Alastor isn’t sure how he knew you would be there, but the discovery throws him. You’re crying. Nearly bawling your eyes out, and you look uncomfortable with the way your small body is curled into a tight ball, surrounded by cleaning supplies. 

“Oh, hey, Al,” you say, your voice rough. “How’d you find me?”

“Just needed to follow the sound of despair, apparently, my dear,” he responds without a thought. He nearly winces when his words process, and he shakes his head. “I’m not sure, dear. Whatever are you doing in there?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Something upset me, but I can’t remember what.” Your voice trails off, and you look at where you have situated yourself. You huff, and pull yourself out with a grunt.

You dust off your knees, and the back of your pants, frowning. “Sorry you had to see that, haha.” You try to muster a smile, but Alastor sees right through it. “Right.”

Alastor simply watches as you shut the closet door, and try and calm yourself down. 

“Gosh, I feel dumb.” You frown at the ground, and sigh. “Alright. Can I have a hug?”

Alastor’s eyebrows raise. Oh. You were finally ready to hug him. How interesting. 

“Of course, dear.” He opens his arms, not even bothering to check for others seeing the interaction. You rub your face, and then step between his arms. You wrap yourself around him, loose at first, and then you embrace him hard. His arms fall around you, and he pulls you in close. His head settles on top of yours. 

You are still so warm, and you smell wonderful; something comforting, something familiar. Your heart thrums against your ribs, and he can feel it pounding. His ears twitch at every soft sound. 

This is nice. Although there is still time, part of him mourns the day you are ready to win his challenge. He supposes he can enjoy each little bit of connection the two of you have, until then. 

Taglist: @numetalnerd2007 @girl-nahh-two Remember, you can be added to my taglist by replying to the tagged post on my page!

[adore-laur]

RENDEZVOUS

— a steamy flashback from the dadrry universe about harry as your fiancé 💍

——

After another shot of vodka went down the hatch, you still didn't qualify yourself as drunk. Tipsy was the more accurate feeling since every shot you had taken in the last ten minutes hadn't quite affected your bloodstream yet. The fifth one was being poured already. Or maybe the sixth. It didn't really matter since letting loose was what bachelorette parties were made for.

The event was being held in a small theatre in downtown San Francisco, occupied by you and your friends to celebrate the last few weeks before you officially became a married woman. A drag show was the extravaganza for the evening, and it was currently the intermission, so everyone was out of their seats drinking and catching up with each other.

You and Harry had needed a getaway amid the final phase of wedding planning. The both of you were staying at the Ritz-Carlton for the weekend, and it was nice to take a breather from the stress of the big day coming up. In the weeks leading up to the mini vacation, you had decided it would be perfect to have your bachelorette party in the scenic city. Most of your friends lived in surrounding areas, so you had sent the invites out and hoped everything worked out. It clearly did because everyone was buzzed and having the time of their life. 

Your throat hurt from loudly cheering on the drag queens who had just performed. The tiara on your head with a tiny veil attached was slipping off, and the bride-to-be sash across your body was getting wrinkled, but you couldn't care less. Happiness and love exuded from your friends who had come to carouse with you.

Harry had proposed a little over a year ago after he cooked a fancy New Year's Eve dinner and led you to the backyard at midnight to get down on one knee, popping the question with shaky hands and watery eyes. You were incredibly thankful it hadn't been a grand display in public. It had been just you and him at home under the string lights, butterflies breaking loose in your stomach.

In planning the wedding, you had vowed to him that you wouldn't be a bridezilla. You'd allow him to have equal insight and let him completely take the reins regarding the food that will be served since it was his forte. Overall, the process hadn't been too draining. You worked well as a team, and he was always open to suggestions and last-minute changes of plans. The final touches would be put together once you came home from the trip. Then, it would finally be time to marry him.

"Did you leave Harry alone in the hotel room?" asked your friend, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Yeah, but I'm sure he'll find something to do," you said. "He can never sit still for too long."

She carefully fixed your tiara. "When's his bachelor party?"

"Next weekend. He's having it at the restaurant he works at."

"Not at the strip club?" she teased, wiggling her eyebrows.

You laughed. "He's mature enough to understand that I find it suspicious when guys go there for their bachelor party. Some call it their last night of freedom. How weird is that?"

You had nothing against strippers, but you thought it was reasonable that you'd rather have Harry spend his night somewhere else to celebrate his, you know, commitment to you.

"You're marrying such a gentleman. It makes me jealous," she said with a playful nudge. She wasn't wrong, so you just shrugged smugly and sipped your fruity cocktail.

Gasps and excited clapping suddenly stole your attention. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the stage, watching the red velvet curtains draw back once again. Shuffling to your table, you smoothed down the back of your dress and sat.

The lights dimmed as people who worked at the venue began rolling a black piano onto the stage. You wondered what it would be used for since the drag queens earlier had strictly danced and lip-synced to music booming from the speakers. Other instruments were also being brought out — guitars, drums, and even a saxophone.

Growing more confused by the second, you turned around and stared at your friends around the room to see if they knew what was happening. All you received was mischievous smiles.

Before you could ask questions, you were abruptly pulled out of your seat and led to the front of the stage as people situated themselves by their respective instruments. You leaned into your friend and asked, "What's going on? This doesn't look like a drag show is about to happen."

She smirked and shrugged one shoulder. "I don't know. Let's find out."

You didn't reply because the band started playing jazzy music as the stage lights turned on, revealing quite a modern setup for what you knew was definitely not a drag performance. A spotlight shone, and it began to move toward the left wings, where a silhouette of someone was waiting.

"Please give a warm welcome to Harry Styles!" introduced the saxophonist.

You just about choked on your Mai Tai.

Your vision finally focused on Harry as he strutted out wearing yellow trousers and a button-up under a suit jacket. A small mic was clipped to his collar, and you couldn't even begin to guess what he had planned tonight. He gave you no inclination that he'd be here. No subtle hints had been dropped in conversations with him, and no sneaky clues had been given by your friends. It was actually shocking, considering he was usually awful at keeping secrets.

Everyone cheered for him, whistles and encouraging hollers thrown his way as he held his arms out and walked toward center stage. You were too taken aback to join in as you watched him cut the band off with a gesture before facing the room with his hands behind his back.

Was his hair parted down the middle?

"Thank you, thank you," Harry greeted with a bow, his deep voice echoing throughout the theatre. "It is so great to be here hosting a bachelorette party for the first time."

Wow. He had jokes up his sleeve, apparently. Was he about to do a stand-up routine?

The applauding and praise continued as you shook your head in disbelief, letting a huge smile take over your face at the unexpected surprise.

"This is new territory for me," he said. I'm very excited to step back from my chef duties and do some comedy tonight."

There was no way he was going to do a comedy bit. You couldn't believe he crashed your party with a fancy suit and a routine ready to go. He was talking to your friend group in the audience like he was giving a Saturday Night Live monologue. You were going to lose it if he started playing the piano.

"You see, my fiancée and I go way back. We met about three years ago at a bar." He finally looked at you. "I ordered a lemon drop martini, and she ordered a strawberry margarita."

A stagehand brought out a clear martini and set it on the piano, and another one came down the stairs and placed a pink-colored margarita on your table. Your face heated at the simple yet thoughtful act.

"We talked for hours until I drunkenly asked her on a date. You know what she told me?" A plethora of whats were screamed from the crowd. "She said: Ask me when again you're sober!"

Everyone laughed, and you hid your face in your hands. That wasn't even a joke; you had genuinely said that to him. You were blown away he remembered such a tiny detail.

"Ultimately, I'm a very serious partner," Harry continued as he began sauntering toward the piano, "and nothing says serious partner like learning how to play the piano to impress my fiancée."

Taking a sip of your margarita, you glanced behind you. Some of your friends were recording him with their phones, and you were glad this could be something you could watch repeatedly.

Harry sat on the bench and exhaled. "Ooh, that feels good."

You had to wave one of the fans the drag queens gave out to cool down. He looked unfairly handsome, he was playing the goddamn piano, and he kept giving you secret looks that made you sweat.

"Now... I don't know if you've heard, but I'm not a boyfriend anymore." He stared straight at you. "I'm a fiancé now." Whistles from your friends caused him to proudly smile. "I'm also going to be dad," he casually blurted. "We're going to have a baby."

The entire room gasped, and you gaped at him with wide eyes. "We're not," Harry added after a short pause. "Wouldn't it be crazy if we were, though?" Your friends were now shaking you and battering you with questions. Harry smiled before his face dropped comically. "We're not."

He teasingly raised eyebrows and smirked at you as if to signify that you actually were pregnant, albeit you were drinking alcohol. Hopefully, everyone knew that you'd never be that stupid. 

The girls were gawking at you, but Harry rolled his lips in and shook his head to remove the confusion. He continued playing the piano, and your cheeks hurt from laughing so much. He was doing such a great job, and you were genuinely trying to figure out how he had pulled all of this off.

"I love my fiancée; she's my best friend," he said smoothly. "She's hilarious, honest, caring, fuckin' beautiful" — he trailed off and furrowed his eyebrows — "and, uh... good in bed." You rolled your eyes as he puckered his lips at you, more cheers filling the room.

"Yeah, that's right." He blew out a relieved breath. "I'm so grateful she doesn't live with her mother anymore."

"Oh my God, Harry!" you yelled with a surprised laugh.

It was a more private joke that no one understood fully, but it was funny nonetheless. You had used to live with your mother when you started dating Harry, and you always had to be quiet when he'd come over because his early twenties testosterone needed to be having sex with you at the most inconvenient of times.

He winked at you before resuming. "However, for me, it's not about how my fiancée is in bed, even though I'd consider myself very lucky in that department. It's about her soul and her heart. And in all seriousness," he added as the laughter died, "I truly believe her soul is my love language."

Coos and squeals echoed at his statement, and you shyly smiled. You were the one who had taught him about all the different love languages; he had told you once that he thought your entire soul was what his was.

"Maybe some of you aren't convinced I'm a serious partner. You may be asking yourself: Did he really take secret piano lessons to do this? Well, if in doubt, just ask the maid of honor."

Your head whipped toward your maid of honor, sitting several tables behind you. She waved with a proud smile, and you gasped when you realized he must've done piano lessons with her since you knew she had played the instrument for several years.

Harry hummed loudly while closing his eyes, bringing your attention back to him. "I love being here in San Francisco. So much history."

The band behind him cheered as Harry dramatically sipped his martini. You'd never seen him so in his element with something besides his job. The confidence in the delivery of his jokes, the comedic timing, the professional stage setup — it was something you'd never forget.

"I've learned so much this week. Here's a few secrets about the hotel we're staying at," he said gaily. "Did you know they gave us the haunted room because of how pale I am?" He shook his head with a boyish smile. "That is funny."

You chuckled at the awful joke because he actually was paler than usual. It was the end of January, and he hadn't gone outside much since it'd been cold and gloomy by the coast where both of you lived.

"The bed in there is so creaky that it sounded like that one night in Mexico!" 

Shocked gasps and bursts of laughter rippled throughout your friends in the audience. It was a harmless joke about how you had all gone on a couples trip a while ago, and your friends had heard you and Harry getting down with it in the hotel room. It'd been terribly embarrassing.

Harry laughed. "Everybody thinks we're a couple that has a lot of sex. We don't; that's why she sleeps in a different bed than me at home."

Okay, now that wasn't true.

"Except tonight!" he shouted cheekily while pointing at you. "I mean, I think I'm just about ready to take her home with how she looks right now."

The girls at your table nudged you, and you began to get flustered. He was giving you that look again.

Harry cleared his throat and stopped playing the piano. "All jokes aside, thank you so much to everyone for celebrating with her tonight. You've all been wonderful friends over the years, and I can't wait to see you all at the wedding. It'll be terrifying, but I'm so ready. Also, thank you for bearing with my terrible jokes. Have a good rest of the night!"

You applauded along with your friends, some of them throwing leftover confetti from the drag performance earlier toward him. He brought his hands together and bowed politely as the band played a closing song.

Harry's cheeks were as pink as your strawberry margarita when he walked down the stairs with one hand behind his back and the other adjusting his suit jacket. He locked eyes with you and pursed his lips, trying to hold back a smile. Everyone stood from their seats to greet him, and the band came down holding bouquets of white iris flowers, passing them out to each of your friends.

You met Harry halfway and instantly wrapped your arms around his waist as he tilted your head up for a messy kiss on the lips. He coaxed and smacked kiss after kiss out of you until your friends started making fake gagging noises from behind. He eventually pulled away and removed his hand behind his back to hold out a bountiful bouquet of red roses that matched the color of your dress.

"For my lovely fiancée." He gave you the bouquet and then turned your head so his mouth was by your ear. "I've got a taxi picking you up after this is done."

You nodded and ran your fingers across his stomach. "Sounds perfect. That was so incredible, Harry. And the piano? I'm impressed."

"It wasn't too much?" he asked, shyly rubbing a knuckle under his eyebrow. "Didn't know if you'd appreciate me crashing your girls night."

"Are you kidding? That was the best thing I've ever seen. I'm so proud of you."

Harry blushed, and you lovingly pinched his cheek. "Thanks. I was nervous because your friends always make fun of my jokes. I thought they wouldn't laugh."

"We were cracking up. You did so good," you complimented. "How did you keep it a secret from me? I had no idea."

"I'll never tell," he said with a cute shrug.

You lightly slapped his chest. "I'll get it out of you one day. Are you staying for the rest of the show?"

"It's your night, baby. Go enjoy it with your friends," he said. "I'll be waiting in the hotel room. You should stop by for a little rendezvous."

Your tipsy mind missed his attempt at a joke entirely. "We're staying in the same room, though."

"Bloody hell," he said with a laugh. "How much alcohol have you had?"

"Excuse me, not even a lot. Mind your business. I'm having a great time."

"I'm glad you're having fun. That makes me happy." Harry adjusted your tiara and then softly pecked the corner of your mouth three times. "I'll see you back in the room, okay?"

"For our rendezvous?"

"Our top secret rendezvous," he murmured against your temple. "Don't go around telling anyone, all right?"

"Sure thing," you replied while squeezing his sides. "You can go now."

An offended scoff escaped him, and he cradled the back of your head and leaned in. "Watch your mouth. I expect you to behave when you get back."

You puckered your lips and hummed contemplatively. "But it's my special day; you said so yourself. I can say whatever I—"

Harry cut you off by pressing his lips to your bottom one, biting it with his teeth before pulling back. "I love you so much, but that attitude isn't going to fly with me tonight."

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, dad."

"I'm leaving before this gets weird," he said with a smile. "Be safe, have fun, and call me if you need anything."

"Now you literally sound like a dad."

"Shush," he said. "I love you. I'll see you soon."

You pecked his lips one last time, tasting the sour lemon residue from his martini. "Love you."

"Have fun, ladies," he called out to your friends. "Take care of her, yeah?"

They all nodded, and Harry hugged you before heading to the stage to shake hands with the band. Soon after he was gone, the lights in the theatre dimmed again, and the curtains opened for the final portion of the show. You headed back to your seat feeling exceptionally giddy.

The rest of the party went by in a flash. Wigs, pop songs, and glitter invaded your brain, and now you were ready to return to the hotel. The tone he'd used earlier had made a shiver run down your spine. Low, insinuative, and almost impatient.

It was a tone that suggested you were in for a treat when you got back.

——

The key card swiftly slid into the slot. Two chirp-like beeps sounded, indicating that it was unlocked. Opening the heavy door, you stumbled inside the hotel room on the black heels you had already started to unclasp in the back of the taxi. There was confetti stuck to the bottom of them, and it nearly made you slip on the hardwood floors. That, and there was also a trail of rose petals and tea light candles weaving throughout the presidential suite that you didn't remember seeing when you had left earlier. 

You giggled to yourself as you followed the trail to the bedroom. Oh, Harry. You had almost forgotten he was here.

When you walked through the doorway, the king-size bed came into view. So did your fiancé. Harry was sitting pretty on the silk sheets with a flute of champagne in his left hand as he looked out the window at the San Francisco skyline. He was wearing the same outfit from his surprise act not too long ago, but his hair had become messier, and his eyes were glassy from the bubbly liquid you noticed was already half gone from the bottle on the nightstand.

You crawled toward him on the bed, setting your bouquet down. "Hi. I'm back."

His gaze focused on you. He granted no response as his lips took a sip of the pale and fizzy drink he held so delicately, the gold engagement band on his ring finger gleaming from the moonlight illuminating the room. A low groan escaped his mouth when you straddled his thighs and applied pressure to his already hard cock. He wasn't saying anything, but you knew exactly what would get him to speak.

"What's got you so hard, baby?" you asked softly, tutting. "Were you thinking about me?"

His lips twitched as he finished the champagne and set it on the ground beside the bed. "Like you don't fuckin' know. Look at yourself, darling. It's honestly a shock that I wasn't on my knees for you at the theatre."

Your hands rubbed up and down his thighs. "I had a feeling you'd like this little number."

It had been a struggle to get through the door to leave since his touch had been all over you the second you put on the red satin slip dress.

"What about me? Do you like my outfit?"

Such a narcissist, you thought to yourself. You ground against him, and he let out a breathy moan. "I do. Apparently, no boxers are part of the get-up."

Harry closed his eyes and smirked. "I might have no boxers on, but there's something else you might find. Went and did some quick shopping while you were gone."

Your slowed thoughts tried to catch up to what he could have been hinting at. "Shopping, huh? What did you buy?"

His large hands kneaded your ass. "Take a look."

He leaned forward and guided your hand to the button of his trousers. You quickly flicked it undone as he removed his suit jacket and began undoing the button-up. His body lifted on the bed so you could slide the garment off easier, and he hissed when it brushed past his cock.

Slowly but surely, his legs underneath were revealed, and your face heated to a thousand degrees.

Fishnet tights.

His leg hair and tiger tattoo peeked out from under the crosshatch material stretched tight against his skin. The redness of his cock looked painful from its restraint under them.

"I might've bought a little something too," you admitted as you scratched his skin through the thin fabric.

"Yeah?" He jerked his hips when your fingers grazed the head of his cock. "Show me, then. Go on."

You sat on your knees and lifted your dress to reveal the baby pink garter around your upper thigh. "It's your favorite color."

Harry licked his lips as his fingers delicately rubbed the lace. "I see that, sweetheart. Anyone particular on your mind when you bought it?"

"Was there anyone on your mind" — you snapped the waistband of his fishnets — "when you bought these?"

He bit his lip. "You're the only one I think of. The only one I would wear these for. I would crawl on my knees to you wearing them if that's what you wanted."

"Is that so? Quite the visual."

"I'll do it if you want me to." He paused, a smile slowly creeping across his face. "We can practice the garter toss for our wedding."

You made a noise of protest. "We are absolutely not doing that in front of our families. It'll be so humiliating."

"Don't have to because we can do it right now," he suggested. A nip was given to your neck before he climbed off the bed and grabbed a chair.

Your eyebrows arched. "What are you doing?"

"We're doing this the traditional way," he explained with a nonchalant shrug. "Have to go under your dress and take it off."

"Will you be nice, or will you tease me?"

"Which do you prefer?"

You swung your legs over the bed and sat in the chair. "I prefer the way that gets you inside me as soon as possible."

"Well, I'll let you know once I'm between your thighs," he said, kneeling on the carpeted floor and gesturing his hands for you to spread open for him.

"No tickling, or I'm staying in another room," you warned as you slid off your heels and parted your legs.

Harry started crawling toward you with his tousled hair and day-old stubble, only wearing his fishnets and unbuttoned dress shirt. He never broke eye contact with you until he reached where you sat.

Your satin dress was then lifted over his head. You could instantly feel his hot breath against your legs, his lips grazing every patch of skin he could find. He left an open-mouthed kiss over your underwear that was already damp, and you moaned when his facial hair rubbed against your inner thigh.

You suddenly felt his teeth grab the garter as he pulled it down to your ankle. He took it off the rest of the way with his hand, bringing it over your shoe and moving out from under your dress. He stuck it between his teeth again and removed his button-up. Green eyes stared at you, and you clenched your legs under his intense stare. His tattooed torso was on full display. He was so, so beautiful.

Harry grabbed the garter and slid it on his bicep before saying, "Stand up."

You got up and switched spots with him, standing in front of him while he sat in the chair. He crossed his legs, thighs thickening even more under the fishnets. You walked over and parted them so you could straddle him. The chair was thankfully wide enough to where both of your knees fit on either side of him. You could almost feel his cock throb as you started desperately grinding against him to offer relief.

"Baby, slow down— shit, slow down," he said quickly, hands gripping your waist. "I need to last. You'll make me come right now if you keep doing that."

Slowing down, you took your time with each grind on his thigh. The pressure of the muscle felt like heaven as your core clenched around nothing. "Is that better?" you asked, raising your dress to see how his body reacted underneath you.

"Yes," he choked out, his neck straining. "Need to be inside you so bad."

"How bad?"

"So bad. I'm fuckin' throbbing for you. Please get on the bed."

You squeezed one of his balls through the fishnets, his hips bucking. "Where does it ache? Tell me how to make it better."

"Get on the bed," he gritted. "I'm not gonna ask again."

There was the dominance you wanted. You nipped his earlobe and crawled off his legs. He immediately stood, hissing as he palmed himself through his tights. You helped him take them off.

"Top or bottom?" he asked while closing the curtains. "My fiancée's choice."

"Neither. I want it from behind."

"Say less." He turned around, gripping his cock and squeezing it once. "On the bed. Now."

You quickly slipped your dress and underwear off and knelt on the bed, facing the headboard. Harry got in position behind you, his cock resting on your lower back. He moved your hair to one side and whispered, "On all fours."

You placed your forearms on the bed and arched your back so he had a good angle. "Open your mouth," he commanded. You tilted your head up and to the side as he leaned in to spit in your awaiting mouth. His saliva pooled on your tongue, and you swallowed it down willingly. "Good girl."

Harry then reached his arm out to hold onto the headboard. The engagement ring on his finger caught your eyes, as did his veiny hand that tightly gripped the burgundy wood.

The first thrust was divine. Searing pressure filled your walls, and Harry whimpered into your neck at your instant clench around his cock. He continued deeply thrusting into you as he took the garter off his arm and put it around your wrists so that they were restrained in front of you. Your hips burned. Harry's other hand squeezed your breast.

"Go faster," you said as his hand trailed down to your stomach, his long middle finger lightly grazing your clit.

He pounded harder, skin slapping as the headboard l creaked from the force. He was hitting all the deep spots, his pelvis meeting your ass each time. Your hands gripped the sheets when he glided his fingers up and down your dripping core. His head was nestled in your neck, muffled groans and pants leaving him when you pushed up your hips with each new thrust.

He removed his fingers that were coated with your arousal and spread his palm on your lower stomach. "Can you feel me there?"

You nodded fervently, crying out when a deep trust had you literally feeling him in your stomach. "Holy shit, Harry. I feel you. Please don't stop."

He pressed down and rubbed your stomach, the knot from your orgasm growing and bubbling up quickly. In one swift movement, he brought you to a sitting position as his cock continued stretching your wet walls. His thighs were touching yours, and you could feel them tense and tremble as you got closer, clenching hard around him.

"I'm gonna get your name tattooed on my thigh right here," he said, taking the garter off your wrists and moving one of your hands to touch his right thigh. 

You were too submerged in ecstasy to reply to his random confession. A couple more thrusts had you blindly reaching back to grab his hand so you could come. He held it tightly as you unraveled, arching against him from the pleasure leaving you.

"That's my girl," he praised in your ear. "My love, my love, my love. So gorgeous, coming for me like this."

Your ears were ringing, and Harry eventually spilled inside you while you still clenched from your remaining orgasm. You felt his warm release shoot inside you, his hand still holding yours and his body falling on top of you as he groaned hotly against your cheek. Heavy breathing was coming from both of you. Harry finished coming but kept his cock inside you, throbs and twitches happening every so often.

"If we weren't engaged already," he started, "I'd propose to you right now because that... that was the best I've ever felt. Wow. My body feels all tingly."

You groaned, his dead weight on top of you making it hard to breathe. "Get off me. You're sweaty."

Harry rolled over and stared at the ceiling with his hands clasped on his stomach. The dim light illuminating the room and the perspiration glistening on his skin accentuated the carved outline of his abs, and you couldn't help but trace them with your fingertips.

"Shower?" he asked.

"Please."

He got up and carried you toward the bathroom. Everything in there was white marble, and the brightness hurt your eyes. The shower was small but comfortable enough to fit both of you. You already had taken one in the morning, but it would feel nice after a long, eventful night. It would also help you sober up as much as possible so you don't suffer through a terrible hangover tomorrow.

After laying down a towel and setting you atop the sink, Harry turned on the shower. He took off both of your engagement rings and then stood in front of the mirror. He inspected his stubble while he waited for the water to heat up.

"Should I shave?"

"Why?" you asked with a sharp tone that had him immediately raising his hands in surrender.

"All right," he mumbled with a teasing smile. "Blimey, woman. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

"What are you even saying?" you asked languidly. "I hate it when you speak old-timey British to me."

"Are you cheesed off at me now?"

"You're literally speaking gibberish." You hopped off the counter. "I'm getting in the shower. Goodbye."

Harry followed you and ducked under the hot water, trapping you in a hug from behind. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?" The soft skin of his stomach against your back had you melting into him.

"I don't want you to divorce me before we get married," he explained, kissing your jaw. "I'm just playing it safe."

"Harry, you're the only person who can annoy me and make me endeared at the same time."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Yes," you replied, picking up the shampoo bottle you brought and handing it to him. "It makes me want to marry you right now."

He spurted a dollop of shampoo into his palm and began massaging it into your scalp with gentle and soothing motions. "I can't wait to marry you, either. Gonna treat you like a gentleman."

You lulled your head back, resting it on his collarbone. "You already do."

"I'll do it even more when I'm your husband, though. Make dinner for you every night and take you out on the town." He gravitated one hand to your stomach. "Give you so many babies."

"Not so fast," you interjected with a dreamlike smile. "No babies anytime soon."

Harry filled the shower cup with water and poured it over your sudsy hair. "I hear you. Just know that I'm ready whenever you are."

"Let's get married first. I want you all to myself for a while."

"You always have me. That'll never change."

You turned him around so you could wash his hair next, opting for the same shampoo since he liked to steal it for himself anyway. After a prolonged yet comfortable silence, you asked, "Were you serious about tattooing my name on your thigh?"

"I'm dead serious," he replied. "I might even do it at my bachelor party. I work with a guy who's coming, and he does tattoos in his free time."

"But why on your thigh? Seems like a risqué place for it."

Harry turned his head and gave you a blank stare. "Would you rather me get it in a corny place like over my heart?"

You laughed, lathering shampoo in his curly hair. "No, not really. I guess you're right. It's kind of a secret spot for only us to know."

"Not unless I wear shorts all the time."

"Yeah, but thankfully, you wear pants every day at work. I don't want your coworkers to see that."

"Why not? I can't show you off anymore?" he teased, reaching back to pinch your side. "Wow, you propose to a woman, and suddenly she wants to be anonymous."

"Shut up," you muttered through a smile. "I honestly don't care. Just please don't get it inked in an ugly font."

Harry moved under the shower head, closing his eyes and slicking his hair back. "Well, it's a good thing I was going to ask if you'd write it out for me."

"Seriously?"

"No," he said in a deadpan manner, spitting out some water that had got in his mouth. "I'm thinking Comic Sans."

Poking the soft skin under his belly button, you said, "You think you're so funny now because you did a five-minute comedy routine."

He didn't provide a retort, but you saw him grin as he washed the rest of the shampoo from his hair. His nose was scrunched while he scratched his scalp and cleaned the foamy residue off his face.

After a peaceful moment of nothing but the sound of the shower water beating down, Harry opened his arms and brought you in for a hug. "I love you. You know that?"

You kissed his collarbone. "Where did that come from?"

"Dunno." He shrugged and cradled your head with his hands. "It hit me that we're getting married in a month."

It had been hitting you as well. You'd been waiting so patiently for the special day to arrive. "I love you," you said quietly. Thank you for tonight and every night. You make life worth living."

"Are you trying to make me cry?"

"Yes."

"Cool."

It fell silent as you stared longingly at each other with growing smiles. Harry slowly started getting closer to your face, his dimples carving deeper until his eyes crossed from how near he was. His forehead dropped against yours, and you rolled your lips in when he attempted to steal a kiss from you.

"How about another rendezvous, but this time we get in bed and fall asleep?" you suggested, reaching around him and shutting the shower off. Sporadic drips and exiting warmth greeted you.

He pouted. "Only if you kiss me."

"We've done enough of that today."

"You're really not gonna kiss your fiancé after I just told you I'd give you babies? That's dire."

You laughed and admired a water droplet cascade from his pointed nose. "If you blow dry my hair for me, I'll reconsider."

Flinging the shower curtain open, Harry yanked a fluffy towel from the hook on the wall, then gently wrapped it around your body before grabbing one for himself and tying it low on his hips. The blow dryer next to the mirror didn't have a long cord, so you sat on the counter for easier access and squeezed any remaining wetness from your hair into the sink. Meanwhile, Harry covered the top of his head with a towel. He looked like the Virgin Mary.

You gave him a comb, and he took the blow dryer with his other hand, turning it on and gesturing at you to ensure it wasn't too hot on your skin. For the next ten minutes, the sound of the loud dryer filled the space. It would have been a stressful sound in any other situation — trying to dry soaking wet hair from the pool before dinner reservations or untangling knots from yesterday's sleep. This time, it was relaxing. Domestic. A moment in time.

The soothing scratches Harry gave to your head as he combed through every citrus-scented strand could have put you to sleep. The hotel room's air conditioner was cold and crisp, but occasionally, he'd lower the dryer so it blew warm air on your arms.

Before you knew it, the dryer clicked off, and peaceful quietness surrounded you. Harry's hair dried much quicker than yours, so he took off the towel on his head and tied some of his damp curls up in a ponytail for the night.

His hands planted themselves on either side of your legs. "Kiss time," he whispered, his arms taut.

You slid off the counter, finding yourself trapped by his body—not that you minded. Grabbing his left hand, you raised it to your lips to kiss his ring finger, then put his gold engagement band back on.

"My mouth is up here."

You grinned. "And? What about it?" Harry annoyingly pushed his forehead into your cheek, grumbling something incoherently. You pushed it away and asked, "What did you say?"

"I said I think I'll die if you don't kiss me," he repeated dramatically.

"What kind of kiss do you want?"

He once told you that he had favorites for different situations: a nip, tug, peck, tongue, or the type where you both smile so big that the kisses become messy and mixed with giggles. The latter was your personal favorite.

He hummed, his nose wrinkling as he pondered. "The one where you do all the work."

You laughed softly. It wasn't necessarily a joke he was making; he genuinely enjoyed it when your lips moved against his. Sometimes, he just wanted to be kissed silly. It was never awkward, nor did it feel like a chore. He was the most kissable person to roam the earth, so resisting was hard.

"Okay," you said, draping your arms over his shoulders. "Only for a little bit, though. I'm exhausted."

Harry nodded and lifted you, setting you on the counter again. Your legs circled around his hips. "I'll return the favor tomorrow," he said.

The towel on his waist was hanging on for dear life. His eyelids were lazily drooping from tiredness, and his skin was flushed from the steam. How could someone look so pretty in hotel bathroom lighting?

Your hand on his cheek gently guided him to your mouth. His lips were damp and plush from the shower, parting naturally with each of your doting kisses. With his nose nudged against yours, pleased hums came from his throat as you alternated between his top and bottom lip. Kissing him never got old. It could be soft or rough, long or short, brought about by love or annoyance. It was a cure all the same.

After a slow and innocent onslaught of kisses, you pulled away before you ended up making out with him until morning. Bruised, aching lips could wait.

Harry whined in protest. "That was only, like, five seconds."

"Guess what?" You trailed your fingertips along his neck. "You have the rest of your life to kiss me."

He yawned while shaking his head. "That's not enough time. Give me forever."

"I'll try," you said fondly, sliding your engagement ring back on.

You would until children of your own were born and required you to share that love. Until your children's children withdrew even more of it. Yet, despite that, Harry would always be the first person you had given your heart to completely. He had never taken advantage of it. He had never made you doubt his love for you. It was the kind of love that was immortal. It would never die out and would remain the greatest feeling you'd ever felt in this life and the next.

If evermore was attainable, you liked to believe it was made possible by loving him.

——

[deanwritings]

The Guest House - Chapter 8

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.

The Guest House Master List

Word Count: 3,961

A/N: Long chapter for a long wait! Really appreciate everyone's patience and please know that I do see everyone's comments and reblogs and it's much appreciated. I'm officially in grad school so my schedule is all over the place, so I've worked on and finished this chapter during various classes.

You meet Dean in the driveway at 10am, per his request, your backpack slung over your shoulder as he’s throwing some bags of his own into the trunk. 

You had considered taking your own car up, in case you wanted to make a quick escape, but you felt embarrassed by the thought. Plus, it would be very obvious why you had taken your car. If you really didn’t want to go, you could have just said, “no,” not have an escape contingency. If you were going, you were going to go the right way. 

“Mornin’,” Dean greets you with a drawl and a fresh smile as you step around the back of the truck.

“Well good morning to you too.” You return as he holds his hand out towards you. You slide your bag off your shoulder and hand it over to him. “You’re chipper this morning.” You note as he makes a point to lower, not toss, your back into the trunk. 

This was probably the happiest you’ve encountered him in the morning so far. 

“How could I not be?” He grins, resting his arms on the trunk’s edge. “Get to work on some fancy cars, get to see my baby, AND,” he holds up a finger before he drops it and points it at you. “My mom makes the best apple pie you will ever have.” You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, and you don’t have the heart to tell him you were a cake girl. But hell, you’ll try that pie and grin and bear it if it keeps Dean in this good of a mood. You were really starting to enjoy his smile.  

“Let’s get to it then.” You smack your hands on the side of the truck before you heads towards the passenger seat and jump inside.

Dean’s tapping his fingers along the steering wheel twenty minutes later, Bob Segaer singing quietly in the background as you watch out the window, Dean glancing at you occasionally.

You hadn’t said much since you first hit the road, just commenting on the few more brazen – aka jackass – drivers that had passed by, and the quietness wasn’t totally comfortable. At the end of the day, you were still basically strangers, and Dean can’t help but wonder what the hell he was thinking when he invited you up with him. 

He hadn’t meant to, it just fell out of his mouth, and once it was out there, he sure as hell hadn’t expected you to take him up on his offer. But you had. And his mother had raised him better than to rescind an invite.

He had made his bed, now he had to lie in it. 

After he got your text, he knew he was going to have to give his mom a heads up and decided to give her a call. 

“Is this the same girl you were complaining about the other week?” Mary’s voice rang through his headphones as he had begun packing for the weekend.

“Yeah, same one.”

“And you invited her to come up with you for the weekend?” Dean’s head fell back as he could hear the implication in his mother’s tone. 

“I was trying to be nice. That’s it.” He hoped to stop the gears that were definitely turning in her head. “Believe it or not, you did raise a gentleman.” He peppered in, knowing his mom loves to hear it. 

“Well that’s nice to hear.” Dean smirked, correct. Then a beat. “Is she pretty?”

After that, Dean had hung up, leaving Mary’s question unanswered. Because if he had answered it, it would have just opened a whole new conversation, and Dean wasn’t interested in having it. 

At this point, the two of you had become civil, hell, even friendly. 

And yeah, if Dean had answered Mary’s question, he would have said you were pretty, and had a confidence and sense of humor that, if he wasn’t going through a bitter divorce, would have had him asking you out in a heartbeat. But the last thing Dean wanted or needed right now was a relationship. 

“So what do you do at a car auction?” Your voice brings him out of his thoughts and he glances towards you, your Y/E/C eyes finding his. 

“Not much actually. I’ll go fix the cars up today, but the owners usually get me a ticket as an extra ‘thanks’ since they know I love it. So I more just get to enjoy the show then have to work it. Sometimes if one of my guys wants to buy a car they’ll get my opinion, but these guys usually know their stuff.”

You just nod.

“How many cars do you have to work on today?”

Dean clicks his tongue, thinking. 

“Got two to tune up for the show tomorrow, then my client, Rick, also wants me to take a look at his ‘69 Stingray. Shouldn’t take too long.” You just nod again, and Dean wonders just how much you know about cars. Though considering you had been rapidly turning over a dead battery earlier this week, he imagines it’s not much. But it gives him an opening. 

“Know much about cars?” He shoots you a quick look, seeing your shoulders shake as you snort out a laugh before he looks back out the windshield. 

“Figured it was pretty obvious I don’t.” Dean laughs out his nose, seeing you turn towards him in your seat from his peripherals.

“But when I was sixteen my dad wanted to get me a ‘74, baby blue Mustang. It was such a beautiful car and I was so excited. I would have had the coolest car at school.” You reminisce. “But my mom shot it down because it only had lap belts and I’m pretty sure there were no airbags. Guess she cared about my safety or something.” You laugh and Dean joins in. 

He liked hearing you laugh. It also meant you were opening up to him. Which he shouldn’t care about, but it brings a smile to his face nonetheless. 

“‘74 Mustang’s a helluva’ a car.” He can picture the exact model in his mind. It’s a hilarious comparison to what he sees you driving around in every day. “Would give your Sonata a run for her money.” You laugh again.

“Yeah no kidding. I’d probably be the worst person for a car like that, though. I would have no idea how to take care of it.” You take a deep breath and look out the window again. “Doesn’t stop me from thinking about it though.” You sigh, earning Dean’s attention. He turns back towards the road, but an idea is now forming. 

He grabs his cellphone out of the console cup holder, his eyes quickly darting between the fairly empty highway and his screen as he opens up his texts and swipes a message before hitting send.

As he looks back up, a sign catches his eye. 

LAKE CHAMPLAIN BRIDGE

1 MILE 

The highway sign gives Dean a heads up that you’re about to hit the best part of the drive. 

“Well there will be plenty of cars you can dream about at the auction, even if you know nothin’ about ‘em.”

Dean flips his blinker on and merges into the right lane, getting onto the exit ramp for the bridge. 

As he slowly takes the curve, the Lake Champlain Bridge comes into view, the elongated, steel archway glistening in the morning sun and reflecting off the calm waters below. Beyond the overpass, the Adirondack mountains tower over the hidden town, complementing the scenery. 

“Woooow,” you breath out, sitting forward in your seat to get a better view out the windshield as the ramp straightens out, welcoming you across the bridge. 

“I know.” Dean agrees with a smile. “Never get tired of seeing it.” He sighs honestly. 

The shadows play through the windows as Dean speeds across the platform. It only takes about 15 seconds to get across, and you lean back once the bridge can only be seen in the rearview. 

“So how come your mom lives out here?” You ask as Dean takes the first exit off the bridge, headed for the outskirts of Bolton. 

“She and my dad had moved out here once my brother and I moved out. Mom always wanted to live on the water and Bolton is small enough and affordable that she was able to get her lakefront dream home.” Dean keeps his focus on the road, checking both left and right before heading straight across the intersection he had stopped at. 

“And she liked that she would still be close-by. Not that it really matters now that Sam lives in the city.”

“Sam?” Dean glances at you, your brows cinched together. Dean realizes he’s never mentioned his brother. And here he is taking you to meet his mother. 

“Sam’s my younger brother.” He explains and your mouth opens in understanding. “He’s a hot shot lawyer in the city where he lives with his fiancé.” 

“Ah. Billie had mentioned you had a brother but that was it.” 

Of course she did. Dean laughs to himself. He’s curious what else Billie has told you. 

But then another thought crosses his mind. He hasn’t told you anything about his family, and he didn’t want to blindside you as you got closer to his mom’s house.

“Also, I should give you a heads up that it’s just my mom.” Dean’s voice lowers as he navigates the familiar backroads. From his vantage point, he can see your eyes narrow, trying to work out his words. 

“My dad passed a while back.” Dean clarifies. “Ten years actually.” The words leave Dean a little breathless. He hadn’t really been thinking that this year would mark a decade since his dad had died. This really wasn’t his year. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, Dean.” Your voice is quiet, and Dean can hear the pain in it. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?” 

Dean’s lip quirks up for just a moment. It’s almost funny how you’re asking for permission to know how his dad died. Not that it bothers him.

“Brain aneurysm.” Dean sighs. “Old man never saw it coming.” He thinks back to the day he got the phone call. He had been at work when his mother called his cell. But still being a garage grunt, Dean hadn’t answered. A few minutes later, Bobby had stepped into the garage and called Dean into his office. Dean never would have thought there was a connection between the timing of his mom’s call and Bobby’s beckoning. 

Looking back, he was grateful Bobby was the one who told him. He didn’t need to think about his brother or mother at that moment. Just let the shock and grief overwhelm him in the privacy of Bobby’s office with his boss’ hand of support on his shoulder. 

Lisa had picked him up, after Linda had called her and broke the news. At the time, Dean was renting an apartment off Main Street, and Lisa spent the next few days staying over cooking and cleaning for him, making sure he would be prepared for the upcoming wake and funeral. 

Back when they had actually cared about each other. 

“God, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine.” Dean swallows down the lump in his throat and shrugs his shoulders. 

“It’s okay. Happened a long time ago now.” The familiar weight of John’s death settles on Dean’s shoulders, even after all this time. 

“Doesn’t make it any easier.” You counter. “Just more bearable.” A sad smile graces Dean’s lips as the lake comes into view through the barren trees as a silence falls over the cab.

“Anything else I should know before I meet your mom?” Your voice breaks through the silence. “Any sisters or more exes I should be warned about?”

Dean laughs before he can even think about it, and the weight lightens. He doesn’t thank you for it, but he’s grateful nonetheless. 

“I promise that’s it.” 

A few minutes later, Dean turns into the familiar driveway, the saturated sage A-frame nestled between the bare birches. One of the white-trimmed windows houses a familiar silhouette, eager for their arrival. 

Dean parks the truck behind Mary’s Nissan Rogue, a car he helped her pick out a few years ago when her decades-old minivan finally crapped out.

Dean kills the engine and sits back. 

“Ready?” He turns to face you, a bright smile on his face. 

You take a deep breath and find his eyes.

“Sure am.”

You had lied. You weren’t feeling ready at all. As you stood at the trunk with Dean, looking up at the lakeside cabin, it was undeniably weird. The only parents you had met were your friends or partners. Never a random guy whose ex-wife was renting you their guest house. 

Not to mention you were still reeling from the story of Dean’s father. It was hard enough losing your aunt. You can’t imagine losing your father, and at that young of an age. You had to assume Dean was in his early thirties now, so to lose a parent when you’re barely an adult had to be even more devastating. You wonder if Dean’s father was around when he married Lisa. You can’t imagine getting married without both of your parents by your side to celebrate. Even if the marriage hadn’t worked out, you hoped he had been alive to see it. 

Dean reaches into the trunk and pulls out your pack, handing it to you. You give him a smile as you take it and throw it over your shoulder, and he smirks back at you. 

Once he has his bags, you follow him to the front step, a lone slab of stone, low to the ground, leading up to the tan double doors protected underneath a gabled roof, a lantern-esque pendant hanging overhead. 

As Dean reaches for the handle, the door pulls itself open, revealing a woman, a few inches taller than yourself, with blonde hair that’s so light it could be confused for gray, and green eyes matching Dean’s, not to mention the same, bright smile. Though the lines around her lips tell you she wears it more often than her son. 

“Dean!” She doesn’t hesitate as she throws her arms around his shoulders, pulling him in tight as his arms holding the bags get trapped to his sides.

“Hi, mom.” Dean huffs, a few beats going by before she lets him go and holds him at an arm’s length, studying him. 

“You look thinner.” She frowns, Dean takes a deep breath in and steps back. 

“I’m fine, mom.” He assures her the same way any child avoiding a lecture does. 

Her lips fold in and she sighs out instead of commenting. 

She then turns to you, her smile returning. 

“I’m assuming you’re Y/N?” You smile back with a nod. “I hope you’re a hugger.” She steps towards you and wraps her arms around you, giving you a surprisingly strong squeeze for an older woman. 

“Mom,” Dean groans, but you just wrap your free arm around her in return.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Winchester.” You pat her on the back before she pulls away and then swats her hand through the air.

“Oh please, we’re all adults. You can call me Mary.” You smile at her. 

“Well, thank you, Mary, for having me for the weekend.”

“It’s exciting!” She shrugs her shoulders up towards her ears. “It’s like Dean’s a kid all over again having a sleepover. Though they were never with girls.” She smirks at you and you can’t help but laugh as she shoots you a wink.

“Oh Jesus, ok. How about we go inside?” Dean steps around Mary and disappears into the entryway, effectively escaping and ending the conversation.

Mary just chuckles and shakes her head. 

“C’mon in.” She follows her son and waves you in and you step inside and close the door behind you.  

You’re surprised to find the house is almost completely open, with views stretching straight back to the ceiling-to-wall windows overlooking the lake’s shoreline. 

The open space is painted a soft yellow, with matching cream and light blue accents throughout the room. It’s the perfect picture of serenity, with not even a throw blanket out of place. 

Several plaques adorn the walls, each with cliché sayings like “Life is better at the lake” and “Living on lake time.”

Along the side wall, right in the center, is a gorgeous stone fireplace, with a natural mantle above it lined with various picture frames. 

“Your home is gorgeous,” You honestly gush. You had no idea what to expect, but it was like a living room straight out of Better Homes & Garden. 

“Oh well thank you, dear.” Mary puts her hands on her hips and looks around. “It took a lot of elbow grease and a few years, but I finally got it to where I wanted.” Your mouth pops open at her words. 

“You did all of this yourself?” You take in the vaulted, beamed ceiling and the wainscotting, appreciating the details that much more.

“Sure did. Needed something to keep me busy.” She trails off, and it takes you a moment to realize she’s talking about her husband. 

“Anyways,” she claps her hands. “Let me show you to your room.” She turns up the stairs to the right of the entrance. You look over at Dean who shoots up his eyebrows and you laugh before fixing your bag over your shoulder and following Mary. 

The upstairs hallway is just as gorgeous as downstairs, with four, stark white doors adorning the walls. You follow Mary towards the front of the house, where she opens the door for you.

“Here you are,” she ushers you in as she stands in the doorway. It’s a decently sized room, enough for a queen-sized bed, two nightstands, and a small dresser. The room has a farmhouse-chic look to it with a white-slabbed headboard and matching furniture. The bedside lampshades are a soft red, with the room tied together with a coordinated rug and throw pillows.

It was darling. 

“This is great,” you step inside past Mary. “Thank you.”

“I’ll let you get settled.” Mary smiles as you turn to face her. “If you need the bathroom, it’s right next door. Dean’s room is right past that, and then I’m across the hall.” She points to her door and you nod. With that, Mary steps out of the doorway, closing the door behind her.

You set your bag down at the corner of the bed and wander over to the window. Selfishly, you were hoping for a lakeview, but your room overlooks the driveway, Dean’s green truck and Mary’s SUV taking up the scenery instead. 

You take a deep breath as you head back towards the bed and kneel down at your bag, zipping it open and pulling out the very few clothes you brought for the weekend. You decide to put your clothes away, wanting to be a tidy guest, and hang up the only nice item you brought on the hook on the back of the bedroom door. 

You make a quick pit stop in the bathroom, making sure you still look fresh before passing the open doors of Dean and Mary’s rooms, stealing a glance into each before you head downstairs. 

As you return back to the foyer, you follow the muffled voices of the Winchesters around the corner to the closed-off portion of the house, stepping into the farmhouse-modern kitchen; a defined theme seamlessly integrated throughout the whole home. 

Dean is leaning against the center island, the base a vibrant blue that probably reflects the lake water in the summer, while Mary sits on one of the stools, her hands wrapped around a mug resting on the white countertop.

Dean notices you first, standing up a bit straighter as Mary turns in her seat to look towards you. 

“All settled?” Mary asks.

“Yes, thank you.” You stand under the room’s archway, feeling like you’re intruding on her and Dean’s personal space. 

“Would you like a coffee or anything? I can make you something to go.”

“To go?” You brow furrows. You know Dean has a work appointment, but you figured you would hang back at the house with Mary while he was busy. You look towards him, a sly smile on that stupidly handsome face of his as he relaxes next to his mother. 

“Figured you could come with me, learn a thing or two before the show tomorrow.” His eyes glisten in the sunlight shining through the multitude of windows. 

Your heart skips a beat at his words and his gaze.

“I really hope you’re not expecting me to help.” You shoot him a pointed look. You were useless when he fixed your battery just a few days ago, there’s no way you would be able to help him fix a speciality car. You wouldn’t even know the names of tools if he asked you to hand them to him. 

He chuckles. “I think I got a preview of your car knowledge this week,” he fully pushes off the island. “I think I’d be better off alone there.” You roll your eyes. 

Ass. Even if you just had the same thought. 

He steps towards you and flips his car keys in his hand. 

“But, I did set something up for you.” You frown at him. 

Did he sign you up for a car class or something? You did not agree to anything like that when he invited you up for the weekend. 

Scanning your face, he quells your concerns. 

“Just trust me.” You stare up at him, holding his gaze as he smiles down at you. 

Damn it. 

“Fine.” You huff. 

About fifteen minutes later, Dean turns down a long driveway, a sign in gold letters welcoming you to the Lime Rock Raceway. 

“A race track?” You turn towards Dean as he drives further down the path, a winding course coming into view. Grandstands rise up above the track, all empty this time of year. 

Dean just responds with a smirk as he parks in front of the raceway’s entrance. 

Without a word, Dean steps out of the truck, and you follow suit, one step behind him as he waves to the security attendant at the gate before finally coming to a halt at the edge of the track as your eyes widen at the car parked at the checkered finish line.

“Is that–” You point to the light blue, curving frame in front of you, your heart in your throat. 

“Not quite the ‘74 Mustang you wanted, but figured a ‘73 would do.” He grins down at you, but you’re too awestruck to return the gesture.

You step past him, your eyes glued to the only car that ever held your interest. It may be a year off, but it was just as beautiful as the one you had wanted since you were sixteen years ago. 

And it was parked right in front of you. 

“How–” you turn towards Dean, his hands in his pocket as he shrugs. 

“My client, Rick, has a collection and I asked him if he could bring this one with him.”

Holy shit. He did this for you. Went out of his way to bring your dream car to you.

Where the hell was the asshole you met only a few weeks ago? Because he certainly wasn’t standing in front of you now. 

“And,” he steps forward when you don’t respond, pulling his hands out of his pocket. “I haven’t even told you the best part yet.” He leans down towards you, his smile growing. 

“You get to drive it.”

Keep reading Forever Tags

@iprobablyshipit91  @likesiriusly @kittyque @findingfitnessforme @wonderange @captainemwinchester @xtina2191 @smoothdogsgirl @mogaruke @chin-up-love @tsunadesenjuuchiha @lyarr24 @globetrotter28 @krazykelly @roseblue373 @k-slla @stephv213 @kaydallas21 @nerdymuffinbonkcloud @magssteenkamp 

[nouvxllev]

Absolutely love your work! And was ecstatic when I found out you also did Emma myers! And you write so well!! 🥹 I don’t know if you’ll be up to this, so don’t feel the need I know your probably a busy bee. But I wanted to know since you do Emma myers, if you’d be willing to to do a cc Walker aged up fic, maybe where cc is in college, and she’s in a relationship with reader (I absolutely loved your jealous Tara fic) but I was wondering if you could do cc, but make it a little more soft, and possessive? Like Cc is more afraid that reader will leave her? And just soft smut? (Sapphic of course) if not then I understand. I also wanted to know if once A good girls guide to murder comes out, will you be doing pop x reader? Because Emma is so cute as pip! ❤️❤️

would it kill you to look at me instead?

Pairing: CC Walker x Fem!Reader

Summary: ^^ request!!

Words: 5k (i was not expecting that damn)

Warnings: soft smut, slight angst. actually idk if its cut out to be angst, possessive cc aaaaaaa, author forgot how to actually write good stories

a/n: thank you so so sooo much!!!! and i was absolutely in love with agggtm when i read the book (i even got the whole series on my bookshelf!) so ofc ill be doing a pip x reader soon. hope i got to your expectations, anon.

masterlist.

"CC, what's up with you?"

Ava trailed after her, CC's shoes skittering along the hallway like some kind of menace, the slam of her door from her dorm was still echoing in Ava's ears.

Despite having just finished training five minutes ago, CC's steps were quick. Like they were avoiding any sort of conversation, she didn't even know why or where she was going.

"CC, please, you haven't even talked to me in a week!" Ava caught up to her, nearly tackling the girl to keep pace with her steps.

"Okay, what?" The blonde turned around abruptly, wind catching in her hair. She almost could roll her eyes if not for Ava being the sweetest being on this earth. "What, for fucks sake, what is so wrong with me?"

"That." She gestured using her pointer finger while the shorter girl pulled her lips into a thin line, "You keep snapping at everyone, and you've been staring daggers at the squad all week. It was mild at first, but now you look like you want to bury them in front of their families."

Ava leaned in further, squinting her eyes as she crosses her arms, "...Also you have these deep eyebags under your eyes."

CC's shoulder slumped, letting out an heavy sigh while her eyes closed. It burns, burns like fucking hell.

"I—"

Ava jumped forward, her eyes furrowing almost immediately, "Don't say because of exams since you're doing pretty good in terms of academics. You're even top in your classes."

"Well, fine. It's—"

"Don't say soccer too because I know your eyebags only come out of hiding when it's tournament or championship season."

"Okay, Wyatt—"

"Yale is like a million miles from us, CC. Also you don't even text Wyatt unless you need something."

"Well, I..." CC fidgeted under her, her head tilting left and right, "We've, my girlfriend have.... Have been fucking. Sex. Alot. Major, huge sex. Like, up and down, sideways, horizontally, transversally—"

"Alright, no," Ava pulled out her hand and stopped her, her other pinching the bridge of her nose, "Not in any universe would I want to hear about you and y/ns sex life."

CC chuckled, the only laugh she could ever muster. "Look, college's been kicking my ass lately and I'm just tired, really. Nothing to worry about." In all truth and oaths, she was.

She was tired.

For all the different reasons. Might even be petty ones.

So tired of hearing that one name—Clarissa Grey—coming out of your, admittedly so attractive, pretty mouth. She was a transferee yet she already caught your attention with a single 'hey, i'm new here, can you show me around?'

It had been five weekdays, not even counting weekends where Clarissa horribly clung onto you outside of school, of having your presence found nowhere but with that girl.

Normally, CC would spend every waking hour, if not for soccer, with you and you only. Clinging to your arms, holding your warm hands, tip-toeing to kiss your pretty lips she so adored, bringing you to the most expensive places you wanted, and most especially waking up with you in the early morning with your body sprawled atop hers.

It was bliss.

Was.

Now that CC was constantly being pulled to practice she couldn't spend as much time as she wanted with you. Meanwhile, Clarissa had you wrapped around her arms.

In short, Clarissa Grey is and will forever be a pain in the ass.

Clarissa—Insufferable, torturous, agonizing, intolerable, girlfriend-hogging—Grey.

She hated her.

Well, not hated. It's a strong word, a word she couldn't ever describe your, her forever beloved girlfriend, friends. Yet this girl got on her nerves more than ever.

And she's pretty sure this girl's been trying to get into your pants more than CC ever does after a rough game.

Clarissa was fine at first. CC wasn't those controlling partners who didn't allow their other to have friends; in fact, she was happy that you found a friend in the new transferee from across the world.

Now she felt like she was about to butcher the girl from mouth to anus if she ever so much as catching a wind of her presence of how she was constantly stealing you away from her.

CC took months just to muster a hi and introduce herself (through text mind you) and she didn't even check her phone for weeks after it. New girl did it in one damn day.

How could one even out-girlfriend a girlfriend of three years?

Now whenever it hits midnight and CC is finally in your arms all she could hear is:

"I'm so sorry baby, Clarissa made some plans for us."

"Sorry, CC. I have something to do with Clarissa on that date."

"Clarissa wanted to…"

"Baby, is it alright if Clarissa invited me to…"

"CC! Check it out, Clarissa just…

It's ridiculous and all CC could say was a simple yeah sure and a nod like she wasn't going to bash Clarissa's head in with a soccer ball.

She'd admit that even you get the end of the stick with her attention sometimes because of her first-class popularity that always seemed to stick around, but either way she felt really bad.

Jealousy was a stupid emotion which a stupid college girl, mind you, like her was stupidly experiencing. She was 19 experiencing her old 13 year old problems if she met you a bit more earlier. But who wouldn't get jealous?

She had the same interests as you, the same personality, likes the same movies as you, you both had an interest in whatever artist you were listening too.

She practically hung out with you everyday with how the both of you took the same classes and courses. The two of you were perfect on paper.

Clarissa wasn't some soccer-obssessed girl who doesn't spend her time in training for championships that you found yourself spending every second with her if CC wasn't around.

She has a great fashion sense without looking like whatever a 'teenybopper' is or someone dressed like Adam Sandlers.

She's probably great at cooking.

She kept her room impossibly clean as if it were brand new that you found impressive everytime she invited the both of you to her dorm.

She had this amazing ball of sunshine whenever she entered the room like it was a plague.

She probably followed what her mom told her to be when she gets into college.

She was pretty too. Her hair all shiny and she carried absolute grace and poise. Who wouldn't like her?

And that smile of hers? You found it nice. Charming, captivating. Even CC found it enchanting, it was all so surreal.

You liked her, most of all.

Shit.

Not that CC could ever doubt your loyalty to her; hell, she could invite every former crush and celebrity crush you had, and you wouldn't even bat a single eye towards them. You'd even try to desperately find the girl even if she wasn't in the room.

She doubted herself.

Who was she if not for you?

She just missed you. So much. It's killing her.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"CC!" You yelled, a smile creeping up your lips as you watched her jog up the bleachers in her new shoes you bought for her as an anniversary gift, it was an understatement to say that she loved it.

You watched how her exhausted face broke into a slight smile that managed to never fail to make your heart grow a garden of flowers trying to mimic her beauty, her eyes lighting up by the mere sight of you.

When she finally reached you, she practically melted into your inviting embrace. You held her chose, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she caught her breath, her exhaustion from practice matches slowly going away from being in the comfort of our arms.

You feel how her breaths gradually steadied, her heartbeat turned into its normal pace, her hands snaking up to your back while she buried her head into you, subtly peppering gentle kisses along your neck.

"Y/n..." She murmured, pulling her head away slightly and turning to the side.

Your arms stayed lingered around her waist, "Yeah, baby?"

She shook her head, eyebrows slightly knitting themselves as her gaze drifted at the seats as she inched closer to your ear, "Why... why is she here?" She squeezed your hand that was wrapped around her.

You followed her line of sight to where Clarissa sat on the bleachers right next to you, watching the players off to the side at her own time.

"Well, she wanted to come along with me," you explained with a shrug, "so I brought her here." A soft smile gracing your lips as you glanced at CC who didn't match your sunny expression.

"You guys done yet?" She looked up at the both of you, her voice was oddly monotone and disinterested. Unlike a few moments ago where she was clinging onto your arm while laughing.

You lowered your arms from CC's body as you sat beside Clarissa, gesturing to your girlfriend to slightly introduce her even if they already met a couple of times.

You didn't miss the way CC's face twisted into a grimace one as she crossed her arms, mumbling a slightly less than thrilled exclaim, "Fantastic."

"It is fine for me to cheer you on, right?" Clarissa smiled. Way too innocently at CC as if she wasn't just staring her down, the change in her tone didn't go unnoticed.

"Yeah. Yeah sure, whatever." CC replied, albeit the response came through gritted teeth as she picked up a waterbottle that sat beside you.

Clarissa smiled, laughed even, before leaning her head against you. "We have something to go after anyways, right y/n?" She looked up at you, innocent eyes that definitely didn't mimic yours as you stuttered out a response.

"We do? I didn't—"

"Okay, no, that's—!" CC's reaction was swift, immediately pulling you closer to her side, her hand having a firm grip on your arm as her voice rose in frustration yet faltered.

CC paused, seemingly collecting herself. You turned to her, confusion etched in your face, while Clarissa had a slight tug in her lips.

"That's... perfect. Amazing," she finally managed to say, letting go of her tight grip on you before standing up. "Sorry, I really have to go, I think they're calling for me. Enjoy whatever plans the both of you have."

You hear Clarissa giggle as you watch CC walk down the steps, her waterbottle discarded onto a nearby trashcan. It wasn't even half done. "Guess she doesn't like me, huh?"

A soft sigh escape your lips, your mood officially worried and concerned about CC before turning to Clarissa, "Yeah... Yeah, sorry, we have plans?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nothing could be more worrying than allowing your girlfriend CC-can't-really-monitor-her-liquor-properly-Walker attend a night party held by her teammates as some sort of 'pre-celebration' before a game.

You were already deprived out of her presence, being that you always stuck with that new girl you couldn't really find time to hang out with your girlfriend no longer than 30 minutes.

Not to mention what happened a few hours ago.

You miss her so much its tearing you apart. Unfortunately you're the book definition of a people pleaser so you took the courage to show Clarissa around for a few weeks until she got comfortable with the setting.

Most of the times CC would invite you to come along with to parties. Rejection often means she would be clinging onto your back like a koala and making out with you until the words associated with your academics disappeared from your mind.

Now she just entered the dorm, gave you a single kiss without explanation, and a simple text minutes later just stating 'ill be at a party. see you midnight xx.'

That in itself made you worried. No normal breathing CC Walker would ever use perfect grammar or would her be's or you's spelled correctly without any missing letters.

So imagine your surprise when she arrived two hours before twelve. Wasted and slightly teary-eyed, her pretty eyes avoiding looking at your direction. It was an understatement that the sight broke your heart.

"CC?" You rushed to her side almost immediately, ignoring the concerns of the amount of tasks you had on your desk.

You were met with silence. "CC, baby, are you alright? Did something happen?" you asked softly, "love, hey, look at me." You reach out to steady her as she swayed on her feet more and more in her intoxicated state until she reached her bed.

She shrugged off your touch, feeling a nagging sting in your heart that burned a void inside of you. You watched as she mutter something unintelligible under her breath, gritting her teeth as she stared at the ground.

"CC, talk to me." You carefully sat with her against your bed, fetching her the water that has been sitting on your desk, tilting your head to get her attention.

Her head turned to you, her eyes glassy and unfocused. Her pretty eyes that you adored were almost teary-eyed, "Would it kill you to look at me instead, y/n?"

"CC..." you tilted your head, your eyebrows furrowing, "CC... what? What are you talking about?"

"Why are you always with her? Clarissa?" Her name almost felt like poison in her mouth, awaiting to be spit out in venom, "Why is she always with you when I'm not around? Why are you always looking at her even if I'm mere inches away from you?"

She shook her head before you could respond, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "It's dumb. I know you're allowed to spend time with your friends. And even more to her since she's new and everything. You could spend time with anyone and I wouldn't care but I—" She took a deep breath, "Every time I see you with her, it's like… like she's much more of a good girlfriend than me you know? Because she likes you. It's kind of clear."

You couldn't feel anything but that gruesome feeling that's eating you apart. You could feel your heart tearing your own self apart as she spoke more.

"She looks at you as if you're hers, y/n. Not to mention she's always touching you, calling you names, always going out of her way to be alone with you... I mean, she asked you out as a joke. Multiple times."

"CC I never thought…" You feel a lump forming in your throat, her words heavy on your heart that were surely more heavier on hers. "I'm sorry, CC."

You reached out to cup her cheek, her body turning to face you, your thumb gently wiping a stray tear that fell on her face. "I'm so sorry, CC. You're not losing me. You will never lose me," you whispered, "I care about you more than anything. More than I breathe. I'm so sorry I made you feel like you were losing me. You have my whole heart, my body, my very soul."

Her gaze softened slightly, you could see that familiar glint you always loved to look at when you locked eyes with her. You missed it. "Is that a promise?"

Gently, you brushed your fingers against her cheek, pressing delicate kisses to her soft skin. "Far more important than a promise. I'll keep it like an oath on my life."

You let your arms wrap around her, feeling her slumping against you, curling against herself between your arms like she was trying to drown all of her burdens for you. "I'm just afraid that you'll leave me. I'm sorry for blowing up on you. I'm sure Clarissa is great."

CC felt warm, comforting, a presence that made you feel like everything to her, how she always kept you grounded. "It's alright, CC. I've been there before, don't worry. And for the record, I'm kind of getting tired of showing her around. Just a slight bit. I'll try introducing her to some people."

CC smiled against your neck, "You don't have to ignore her completely, baby. It's fine. I think my insecurities just got the best of me."

She's as comforting as the day you met her. The comforting sense of love, how you'd wake yourself up everyday just to see her face. Even if your heart gives out, you'd work through turmoil for it to beat for her. Even if you're tired, you'd manage enough energy for her to enjoy life with you.

"I'll never let you doubt my love for you again. No one could ever replace what I'm feeling with you, no one could ever replace you. You're simply everything baby, everything that life never gave me and everything life never offered."

You press a tender kiss to her forehead before making your way to her lap, pulling her collar and capturing her lips in a soft yet deep kiss.

CC responded eagerly to your kiss, closing her eyes while she let her hands wrap around your waist as she parted her lips to invite yours in as her tongue slipped between them.

With a low groan of ecstasy, you welcomed her intrusion, your own tongue fighting with hers yet you surrendered almost immediately, every touch of her in on your body sent shivers down your spine, leaving you craving for more of her.

You could feel her hands sliding under your shirt, the simple warmth of her touch, how her fingers glided smoothly against your skin and trailing to your chest was like reassurance that you were wanted and loved by her, how you were only hers.

"Baby…" you managed to murmur between her assaulting kisses that only seemed to spur her on as you went limp on her body, "have I ever told you I love the way you talk..."

You couldn't help but grin at the soft chuckle that escaped her pretty lips at your words, her kisses only growing more fervent as CC pressed herself against you all while she looked up at you with those eyes, waiting for you.

"The way you smile…" you trailed off, tugging at her shirt, tracing your fingers along her jawline, "the way you get jealous, the way you get so competitive sometimes, the way you look so lovely every waking moment, it's intoxicating."

You kissed her deeply, savoring the taste of her lips as you softly bit at her bottom lip, your voice turning husky and needy with desire, "Most importantly, I love the way you fuck me into your bed every night. You know no girl could drive me insane like what you're doing to me right now."

You didn't miss how CC's breath hitched at your words, how her eyes darkened with desire almost immediately as she pulled you by the collar of your shirt and flipped the both of you around. her hands roaming all over your body as she mumbled to her breath.

"I want you," she pleaded, "I need you, y/n, please." It wasn't a question, she needed this.

You wrapped your legs around her waist, pulling her close, feeling the heat of her body on top of yours as you mumbled a weak 'yes.'

CC took her time in showering you with the amount of kisses she wanted to give you, offering everything you needed with tenderness you never thought existed, the special attention that she always showed to you, worshipping every inch of your body.

She looked up at you, noticing the way your eyes closed, uncertain of whether it was out of pure bliss or discomfort. "Y/n, is this okay?", she asked softly, squeezing your hand that laid off to the side.

That was the thing about CC that you always adored, how she took the time to make sure you were comfortable in whatever she was doing. Whether she was rough or not, she was still so gentle with you, treating you as if you were porcelain about to break.

In the span of three years, her sweet and caring nature never faded no matter how much time you'll be spending time with her. She was the sweetest girl that only you knew.

You smiled at her, "Yes, CC, everything is okay. Just remind me of how much I'm yours to handle."

She nodded before returning to her usual, pulling up your shirt until it was completely off your body, "You're always so gorgeous…" She whispered against your skin, pressing her lips on your body, trailing down your chest. Each touch was gentle and tender, all just for you to feel cherished.

"I'm gonna take it off, okay, sweetheart?" CC murmured before she was lifting up your hips herself, her fingers sliding into your waistband and discarding your shorts and undergarments off to the side.

You gasped at the sudden cold air hitting your warmth as CC knelt below you to get the perfect view of your pretty pussy she so adored.

You suck a moan under her hot breath against your clit, her arms wrapping around your thighs to pull you in, "Baby, please…"

"I'll get there, pretty girl." CC whispered, taking soft licks of your juices, lapping them as she inched a little further into your warmth, groaning against you.

She looked up, watching how your body reacts with her each touch she had on you, whether she should follow your wants or what she needs to be satisfied.

She could see the flicker of pleasure in your eyes, the way your breath hitched, how you sound with every whine that elicited from your glossy lips, the way you try to cover your moans with your palm.

CC moved away, your needy whine didn't go unnoticed, her lips brushing against your wet clit before wrapping around the needy warmth and sucking gently, your body instinctively creating the perfect arch, your hips rolling into your face as you chased to get the most friction out of her mouth as she held you down by her arms.

But just as you felt nearing an orgasm, CC pulled away, only leaving you panting and wanting more.

She towered over you, spreading your legs as she leaned in closer, the sight of your juices on your lips turned you on even more.

"What do you want, baby? Tell me," she whispered, leaning in closer and planting soft kisses along your face as she waited for your answer.

"You… want you.. inside," you whispered, "want all of you, right now, please…" you moaned as the words spilled out of you in a desperate plea, discreetly rolling your hips against her thigh.

CC smiled down at you, her touch gentle and loving as her hands trailed down below to caress your soft skin before giving you what you wanted, while the other hand held up your head, showering you with praises after praises.

You kissed her back, feeling her fingers slowly inching towards your entrance that sent shivers down your spine. You tried to kiss her once again, trying to drown out your rather loud moans yet your efforts failed.

"Such a good girl, you're taking me so well..." CC praised you, smiling against your lips, "You're so pretty like this, baby. All just for me." She inserted all three fingers inside of you, stretching you out in the most delicious way possible.

"F-fuck! CC, please," you moaned, looking up at her as she looked right at you back, covering your mouth with only your palm. Getting caught having sex with your girlfriend at night in a literal college dorm wasn't in your applications at all.

CC, however, seemed unfazed as she panted, rolling and curling her fingers inside of your warm heat, always finding that one spot that had you seeing stars. "Are you close?" she asked, speeding up her pace.

You could only nod frantically in response, feeling a knot tightening in your stomach, "Yes, yeah, I'm close," you gasped, your body almost trembling in pleasure.

"You know, Clarissa is only a dorm away from us." She took hold of your wrists and held them high above your head, her grip still soft to touch, like she was still trying to take care of you. "You're going to scream my name. Not 'baby', not 'love', not Clarissa or whatever her name is. Not anyone."

Your eyes widened in surprise, your mouth opening to protest, but you were cut off before you could speak.

"I want everybody to hear that you're mine, especially her." She continued, her fingers pushing deep into you as you arched your back, "I want her to know how good I'm fucking you, how well you're taking every inch of me. Tell them what a good girl you are for me."

In your clouded haze, you desperately nodded with half-lidded eyes that stared back at her, your mouth half opened as she kept eliciting pathetic moans and whines from your lips.

"M' gonna cum, baby… CC, please," you whimpered, your voice strained and coming out in choked sobs, feeling the knot tightening deep inside of you. CC relentlessly pushed you closer to the edge, your back arching as she whispered praises after praises.

She released your arms from her grasp and you immediately wrap them around her neck, pulling her impossibly close to your body, her fingers thrusting deeper inside of your pussy while her thumb traced your clit in circles.

"Don't hold it, y/n. Cum for me, pretty girl, it's alright," she whispered as you brought her close to your neck, pressing one last kiss to your skin, satisfying everything inside of you with one last thrust.

You cum almost immediately after, "CC! F-fuck!" you moaned, making sure everyone can hear you. Your walls clenched around her fingers all while she still tried to pump them in and out of you, her hand slick with your cum that went nowhere but down her palm.

You wrap your legs around her waist, seeking support in her body as your own trembled in pleasure, your back arching as you gradually went down from your high, "M' all yours, CC! S-shit, you're fucking me so well!" you gasped, your words coming out in ragged breaths as you were brought to a back to back orgasm.

While you were coming down from your high, CC was already showering you with kisses all over your body, whispering sweet nothings, words of praises and adoration that automatically flowed on instinct from her lips, "I'm right here, y/n. God, you're so so so perfect."

When she felt your body begin to relax, going limp on CC, she gently withdrew from you, reaching out for a nearby stand to grab a pair of tissues. She wiped her fingers clean and gently cleaned the beads of sweat that formed on your forehead.

"You did so well, baby," she murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. "I'm so proud of you, pretty girl. I love you so much."

CC slid her arms under your body, lifting you up and placing you against the headboard, taking note of how your eyes were shut close and your breaths were slightly labored. "Y/n? Y/n, are you alright? Was I too much?"

You chuckled softly, opening your eyes to meet her gaze as she settled into your lap, her arms wrapping around you protectively. Like you'd run away and never return into her hold. Her eyes were too pretty, too full with love and care for you, almost as if you already died and went to heaven.

"You were too soft, actually." you laughed, leaning in to kiss her, tasting her natural lipgloss with the mix of your juices; an odd taste you'd say. "Is that what jealousy gets to CC Walker?"

"Definitely not," she replied almost immediately. "But seeing you with her makes me feel like I am. I needed to feel close to you, for you to feel close to me…" Her voice trailed off, her words faltering. She was always the one who talked alot about her feelings, yet it always seemed so distant and struggled.

"Well, you're not really mine mine since, of course, you don't really belong to anybody. Hell, even I don't own you and no one should think that! But you know I just—"

You reached up to cup her cheek as you cut her off, your thumb brushing lightly against her skin, a gentle smile playing on your lips.

"Oh, you know a girl batting her eyes at me won't change the way I feel about you. That's completely ridiculous," you reassured her. "You're always going to be my top 1. You have my birthday on your jersey for fuck sakes, who couldn't say no to that?"

Her lips curved into a smile, a relief expression is what you'd assume. "Guess you've brought up a solid argument," she laughed, leaning into your touch. "I'll run you a bath, okay?"

"I'll come with," you were already trying to stand up until CC pushed you back down.

"As... a trophy winner of an international soccer team, I suggest you lie back down. Maybe watch a couple of movies or two and let me do the taking care part." She leaned on your forehead and walked to the shower, already gathering your clothes and towel.

You sat up from the bed, a stupid smile across your face as you watched this girl do everything for you. Oh, the way she was so sweet for you was unbelievable. "Don't you need a degree for me to believe you?"

"Yeah!" She yelled across the room, "But I am your girlfriend and you believed me when I said I almost quit soccer because of a shoulder injury when in actuality it was my mom. So." She shrugged, already entering the shower and turning on the faucet before returning back to you.

"You're simply awful." You smiled as you watch her come back with a water and her laptop. "I love you." You say as you kiss her forehead.

"I love you too. So much." She smiled, "but one thing." She sat beside you, rising up a blanket to cover your naked body as she waited for the bathtub to fill. "You have to promise me that you'll keep your eyes on me. And me only."

"Still on Clarissa?"

"Unfortunately so."

You chuckle. "Then, I promise on my life that I'll keep my eyes only for CC Walker. And CC Walker only."

"Forever?"

"Forever and Always."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: this is longer than i anticipated it to be

[alwaysonthemend]

Author’s Note: I have nothing to say for myself. The Jummy has been making me feral for the last few days and I had to cleanse myself somehow… so I figured writing smut was the best method for that. (It makes sense to me, don’t worry about it) It starts out a little angsty with Jake being insecure, but don’t worry bc it heats up VERY quickly. As always, sorry for any typos. Also this is probably my most favorite thing that I've ever written so I hope you guys enjoy.

Content Warnings: body insecurity, body worship, a little bit of cockwarming if you squint, unprotected sex, p in v sex, 18+ MINORS DNI 

Word Count: 3593

Preview: 

“You’re fucking solid, Jake. Powerful. You fuck me so hard. You think someone built like him could fuck me the way you do?” You shake your head. “Wouldn’t even come close. No one can fuck me the way I need it besides you.” 

------------------------

Admittedly, it had taken you a little while to realize that something was off with Jake – far longer than it should have, given how long the two of you have been together. But, in your defense, Jake Kiszka is a master at hiding when something is wrong. 

The first warning sign had been a few weeks ago when Jake had declined going out to his favorite steak restaurant, claiming that he was too tired and that he’d had a late lunch anyway so he wasn’t super hungry. You’d been doubtful, but the two of you stayed in for the night and Jake had distracted you beyond the point of awareness of anything other than his tongue and fingers. He'd fucked you slow and deep that night and needless to say, you’d quickly forgotten about it.

The second came during a dinner with him and his brothers. You, Jake, Sam, Josh, and Josh’s partner had gone out to a local Thai place that all of you loved. You all frequented it regularly and got the exact same dishes every time – which is why you had been confused when Jake ordered something else. You’d looked at him in shock, as did everyone else at the table, but he’d simply shrugged and said that he wanted to try something new. When the food had arrived, you couldn’t help but notice that the dish was much smaller than the one he usually got, but he seemed to enjoy it so you didn’t say anything. Again, you’d allowed yourself to forget about it. 

The third warning (and arguably the most obvious one) happened just two weeks later on an impromptu lake house trip that you all went on. Deciding to enjoy the last bit of time that they had until tours started again, Danny had suggested that you all spend the weekend swimming and hiking at the lake, just like you all used to do when you were younger. It had been a wonderful weekend, and you almost didn’t notice that anything was wrong… almost. 

The first day there had been spent hiking and goofing around inside, but your second day was always reserved for swimming. That morning, as you were changing into your swimsuit, you watched as Jake pulled on his swim trunks; nothing out of the ordinary. But what was strange was that he then put on a swim shirt, hiding his gorgeous torso from view. 

“Why are you putting that on?” You asked, grabbing your towel from where you’d hung it on the bedroom door. 

“I don’t want to get sunburned.” He said, perching his signature sunglasses on his nose. 

You opened your mouth to tell him that he’s never cared about getting burned before (much to your annoyance and worry) but he swiftly left the room. You trailed behind him, staring at his shoulders through the swim shirt and worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. You couldn’t tell if he was actually being weird or if you were just overthinking. 

The rest of the trip had gone completely normal, with the boys acting like literal children in the water while you relaxed and sunbathed – occasionally joining them in the lake to participate in their craziness. But no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself you were overthinking, you couldn’t help but worry as you watched Jake in that stupid swim shirt. 

The entire drive home you’d wanted so desperately to bring it up to him, but you weren’t even sure what you were bringing up. Distantly, all those other little warning signs tinkled like little bells in the back of your mind, but you didn’t pay them any mind. Jake was acting completely normal. So what he was too tired to go to dinner one night? And why was it such a big deal that he wanted to try a different dish at a Thai restaurant? And maybe he really did just want to avoid getting sunburnt. And sure, you and him hadn't been intimate since that night he declined going out... but a few weeks wasn't really all that long in the grand scheme of things. Besides, even though it was between tours, Jake was still almost constantly busy with something – photoshoots, interviews, spending time in the studio. He was tired from work (and so were you). Nothing to be worried about. You shook your head at yourself, willing the little ball of anxiety in your gut to go away. 

And it did. Until just two nights later, when Jake asked you to turn the light off before he fucked you. 

“What? Why?” He was looking down at you, palms planted on either side of you and his weight settled on the bed between your thighs. He had on nothing but a plain t-shirt and his boxers. 

“No reason.” He said, reaching over to turn the bedside lamp off, plunging the room into darkness. He sunk his weight back on his heels to pull his shirt over his head before diving back down to attach his mouth to your breasts, suckling and biting at the sensitive buds. His distraction almost worked. 

“Jake, no.” You said, sitting up to stare at him. “Why do you suddenly want to turn the light off while we fuck?” 

“More romantic?” His words came out as a question, but he didn’t give you time to respond as he leant back down, intent on carrying on without explanation. 

“More romantic for me to not be able to see you?” He didn’t answer, instead beginning to place hot kisses down your throat, teasing the spot that he knew you loved. But you weren’t backing down. Not this time. 

“Jake, stop. Just stop.” 

He sat back up and you stared at him, trying to read his face in the dark. 

“You and I both know you’ve been acting weird. I’m not doing anything with you tonight until you tell me what the fuck has been going on with you.” You told him, your tone leaving no space for debate. 

“How have I been weird?” He asked, his voice far too cool and smooth for it to be genuine. 

“For one, you didn’t want to go to the steakhouse the other night. You know, the one you never say no to?”

“Y/n, I was tired. And full from lunch. How is that weird?” 

“You got something different when we went and got Thai with the guys!” You said, voice raising in volume as he kept staring at you like you were crazy. 

“Okay…” He said slowly, like he was speaking to a child. “And is that a crime? Am I not allowed to order something different?” 

“No. But you love that Thai dish that you always get!” Your hands flew about madly as you spoke, all the worry that you had pushed down finally coming to the surface. “And the swim shirt, Jake. You’ve never cared about getting burnt. Like ever. Why did you start caring now? And now you want to turn the light off while we fuck!” You were yelling now but you didn’t care. You were tired of ignoring that something was wrong. You didn’t know what it was – the dots not connecting between all these events yet. But you knew in your heart that something was wrong. 

“Please, Jake. We haven't slept together in weeks... which isn't like us at all! Just tell me what’s wrong so I don’t have to start making assumptions!” You had the inkling of one already, and you were praying that it was wrong. 

He stayed silent for a long moment, and the tension in the room was so thick you could probably cut it with a knife. Finally, his shoulders fell and he dropped his head. His hair fell on either side of his cheeks, framing his pretty face. 

“I’ve just… put on a few extra pounds recently. That’s all. It’s no big deal.” 

You stared, mouth falling open as the horrible assumption that had been plaguing your mind since the lake was confirmed. 

“So?” You asked, genuinely at a loss over him making this such a big deal. 

“So, I need to lose them. And maybe a few more.” You hated how sure he sounded as he said the words, like he’d already given this so much thought –and he clearly has. “I should've done it years ago to be honest."

“Jake, I-” You stopped, overwhelmed and at a loss for what to say. You wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him; scream in his face how wrong he was for feeling so low about his body. 

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s the truth. I’ve let it get too far and I have to slim down before tour starts.”

“Why?” The question is all your brain can come up with. You want to slap yourself for that being what your brain decided to spew at him first. He sighed deeply and hung his head. 

“Because, y/n. The outfits they make for me are always open chested – and people have already made comments about my weight in the past. So I want to slim down before we start again.” 

“Jake, those people have no right to make comments about your appearance. You’ve said that yourself in the past. Why do you suddenly care now?”

“Because they’re right about this. I don’t understand why you don’t get it!” 

For a split second, his raised voice hurts you, slicing through you as he snaps at you. But you know that it’s coming from his own hurt – the hurt that he’s been keeping to himself. 

“Jake,” you say quietly, “I’m confused because I think you’re the sexiest person on the planet. I love the way you look. I don’t care if you feel like you’ve put on some weight. You’re still just as sexy as you were before.” You pause, sliding up in bed so you can see him more clearly in the dark. “If I’m being totally honest, I think you’re even hotter now.” 

His eyes widen at your confession and even in the dark you can see the blush that overtakes his face. 

“You do?”

“Fuck yeah, I do. C’mere.” You beckon him to come and lay against the headboard. He complies, crawling his way up next to you and laying back. You toss one leg over his waist and settle on top of him, straddling him as you place your palms on his chest. 

“Do you know what I mean when I say ‘I love you?’” You ask him quietly. 

He nods his head. 

“I don’t think you do.” You lean your head down to press your lips softly to his for a moment before pulling away. “It means that I love all of you. Ever fucking thing about you – on the inside and on the outside.”

“But it’s embarrassing.” He whispers, eyes pinned on yours. “I don’t like being the heavier twin.” 

The phrase sounds foreign on his tongue and you realize that it's because he's quoting something – no doubt a shitty comment from some asshole who claims to be a fan. You have half a mind to slap the shit out of him. His words fill you with so much anger you feel like you’re going to explode. 

“Jacob, do not EVER compare yourself to Josh. Ever.”

“But-” 

“But nothing.” You cut him off, pressing your pointer finger to his soft lips to silence him before cupping his cheek with your palm. 

“If I wanted to be with Josh or someone built like Josh, I would be. But I don’t. I want you, Jake. As you are." You shake your head at him. "You're not fat, Jake. Like at all. You literally have nothing to be embarrassed about.” 

He’s looking at you with shiny eyes and you wish your words would be enough to convince him. But he’s nothing if not hardheaded, so you know it’s going to take more than a few flowery words to get him to see the truth. 

“I’m going to turn the light back on.” You say gently. “And I’m going to show you how much I love you. Okay?” 

“Okay.” He whispers, and you can practically see it as his whole body tenses beneath you. 

You reach up and turn the lamp back on, washing the room in golden light. Jake is still looking at you, his eyes wide and nervous. You give him a little smile as you settle back down on him. Forgoing anymore words, you press a feverish kiss to his neck, licking and sucking down the hollow of his throat. His breath stutters in his chest as you slide your ass downwards. His cock is soft after your conversation but you know you can get him back to where he was at the start of the night.

“I love your body, Jake. These pretty nipples.” You swirl your tongue around them, drawing a breathy moan from him. 

You reach out your arms and find his hands, laying limply at his side. You lace your fingers with his and bring his left hand to your lips, kissing his calloused fingers. “I love your hands. I love how they look when you play guitar – fast and merciless and so fucking talented. And yet they’re still so gentle when they touch me.” You slide his index finger between your lips, swirling your tongue around the digit before releasing it. “And I love the way you make me cum on your fingers. You’re better at that than anyone I’ve ever been with before.”

“Really? Better than anyone?” He asks, the whispers of his usual cocky self shining through.

“Really.” You assure him, dropping his hands to focus your attention elsewhere. “Can I tell you a secret?” You ask him, looking up at his flushed face through your lashes. 

“Yeah. Tell me.” 

“Your stomach is probably my favorite part about you.” You say, delicately trailing your fingers down his sternum and over the curve of his belly. 

He scoffs. 

“You’re just saying that.” 

You shake your head. 

“I’m not. It’s the truth, Jake. I fucking love it. I love watching the sweat drip down it while you play on stage. It makes me so fucking wet, imagining licking it off you.” You bring your mouth downwards, biting at his soft sides as your hands knead into the flesh. You suck his skin between your teeth, creating a purple mark just to the left of his belly button. “Everything about you makes me wet, but your belly does it the most.” 

As if in answer, your pussy throbs at the sight of the hickey you left there. You can see on his face that he still isn’t convinced so you slide off your panties and kick them to the side – leaving you in nothing but your tank top. You rise slightly off the bed and swipe a finger through your folds, collecting the wetness that’s pooled there. 

“See?” You say, allowing him to see your juices drip from your fingers. Wordlessly, he grabs your wrist and pulls your hand to his mouth. He wraps his lips around your finger, swirling his tongue to lap up your wetness. He moans at the taste of you and you pull your hand free. 

“Believe me yet?” You ask him with a sly smile. 

“Getting there.” He gives you a cheeky grin and you can’t help the butterflies that erupt in your stomach at the sight. 

You give his belly one last lick before moving downwards, avoiding where his half-hard cock lies in his boxers. 

“And I fucking love your thighs.” You tell him, sliding your palms up and down them as you speak. “So thick and strong. Makes me so fucking horny.” 

You trail kisses up the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, and the muscles twitch as you get closer to where he wants you. 

“You’re fucking solid, Jake. Powerful. You fuck me so hard. You think someone built like Josh could fuck me the way you do?” You shake your head. “They couldn’t even come close. No one can fuck me the way I need it besides you.” 

“Y/n… fuck.” His pupils are blown wide and his breathing is heavy. Even his chest is flush with his arousal. His cock is rock hard in his boxers now, tenting the fabric – straining them so much it looks like they might burst at the seams.

“And this,” you say, finally pressing your palm to his dick. “I don’t even have the words.” He groans at the pressure and his hips shift upwards off the bed in search for more. You give it to him, sliding his underwear down and off him. His cock springs free, slapping his stomach. You spit into your hand and wrap it around him, stroking him slowly. “You have such a pretty cock, Jake. It makes me feel so fucking good. Reaches places inside me no one else can.”

He groans loudly as you pump him, and you watch in awe as his eyes screw shut in pleasure. Your mouth waters and your cunt throbs at the sight and sound of him. Deciding that neither of you should have to wait for it tonight, you rip your tank top off quickly before sinking down on him, taking in his thick cock inch by inch. You moan and whimper as he stretches you, the familiar burn feeling so good. 

“Oh fuck!” Jake groans, opening his eyes to look at you taking his cock. “You’re so fucking beautiful, y/n. Look at you.” 

You still as you sink all the way down on him. He’s watching you with dark eyes and sweat is beginning to bead on his temples. 

“Jake…” you whine, beginning to rock your hips into his. 

“Shit, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” He growls, gripping your hips with his strong hands, kneading his fingers roughly into your flesh. 

You rise off him almost completely, before plunging back down on him – causing the both of you to moan loudly. You set a brutal pace, slamming down on him as he thrusts his hips up to meet yours. You drop your gaze downward to stare as each thrust causes movement in his soft belly, and you wail in pleasure and shock as you cum so hard you see stars. It tears through you so quickly you aren’t expecting it at all, and your movements still as waves of pleasure wash over you. When you finally come back to the world of the living, you want to be embarrassed for falling apart like that – but you can’t with the way Jake is looking at you. 

His jaw is open and his eyes are so dilated they look black. He looks like he wants to eat you alive. You both sit there, neither of you moving, as he looks at you like you’re the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. 

“Fuckin' hell.” He says, voice husky and broken.

 “Haven’t cum that easy since I was a fucking teenager.” You say, still a little embarrassed, despite his reaction.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” Jake confesses, flipping you over quickly so that he’s on top. 

You know he saw where you were looking when you came – he’d been staring at your face the whole time. As embarrassing as that blatant display of lust had been, you can’t help but be thankful that he saw. There’s no way he can doubt your earlier words after seeing that. 

“Fuck me, Jake. Fuck me hard.” You plead, hooking your legs around his waist and pulling him in closer to you. “Fuck me the way only you can.” The last part comes out as a whisper and his cock twitches as you say them. He plants his forearms on either side of you, caging you in with his body. 

“I’ll fuck you every day until the day I die.” He says, before plunging into you again. 

There’s no delay now as he snaps his hips into yours – the force of each thrust causing your whole body to move upwards. His powerful thighs drive into you with fucking monster truck force and the sound of his skin hitting yours is loud and obscene. You rake your nails down his back, undoubtedly drawing blood as he hits that special spot inside of you that only he can. 

“Oh fuck, right fucking there. Jesus Christ!” You scream, digging your fingers into his sides and squeezing. 

“You’re so fucking tight, y/n. I’m gonna fucking cum.” Sweat drips down his neck and chest and you take the opportunity to lean upwards and lick it off him, moaning at the salty taste of him. 

“Dirty fucking girl. Jesus.” 

His thrusts are growing sloppy and erratic and you can feel his cock twitching inside you. You clench around him and the sound that falls from between his lips is practically a whine. 

“Do it, Jakey. Give it to me.” 

And that’s all it takes for him to spill inside you. 

“Fuck!” He growls, sinking his teeth into the skin of your shoulder as he cums. The sting brings you over the edge too, and you clench around him as you cum – milking him for all he’s got. 

When the two of you finally resurface, Jake pulls out of you and collapses on the bed next to you. You turn on your side to see his hilariously fucked out expression. You giggle. 

“What?” He asks, turning his head to face you, a sweet smile on his lips. 

“Do you know what I mean now when I say I love you?”

His smile widens – his beautiful white teeth on display as he scoots closer to you. 

“Yeah, I think so.” 

He kisses you – deliberate and passionate. 

"Jake," you say as he pulls away, "if you want to lose weight for you, then I don't care. But if you're only doing it because you feel like you have to..." You trail off, heart heavy at the thought that he had been feeling so down on himself without you realizing.

He smiles at you – the widest and most genuine one he's given you all night, and he slots his lips against yours in another kiss.

“Thank you.” He says as he pulls away from you. "But I think you've convinced me that I'm good with how I am right now." Seriousness overtakes his soft expression as he looks at you. "Thank you."

“It was literally my pleasure. I love getting to worship you.” You lean your head on his shoulder and he pulls the covers up over the two of you and turns off the lamp. “All of you.”

He chuckles, and the sound rumbles in his chest where you’re pressed against him. 

“I love you too, y/n. All of you.”

---------

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[reidingandwriting]

Speak Now (Hotch’s Version)

Chapter Two: i can see you

“I could see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission”

Word Count: 2,200 words

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Warnings: Criminal Minds level of violence described, definitely Not how solving cases goes but!!, some cursing and some suggestive themes

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

A/N: SOOO sorry for the delay in posting! I was at a convention this weekend and my queued post didn’t post for whatever reason :’) Chapter 3 is still scheduled for tomorrow so I hope you enjoy the back to back update!

“We’ve got a case,” JJ said and you stood up from your desk to walk to the conference room. You had only been a part of the BAU for two months or so now, but the novelty had yet to wear off yet. Every time JJ announced a new case, you got a rush. A wave of a familiar cologne enveloped you, and you felt an arm brush against your own.

“Sorry,” Hotch’s voice filled your ears, the single word causing a chill to go down your spine.

“No problem,” Your voice came out quieter than you expected and you internally cursed. Where did you begin with Aaron Hotchner? Ever since you met at the FBI Banquet, he had occupied your mind. Your first day, you were pleased that he remembered you and since then, he’s seemed… not quite distant but not quite friendly with you either. Not like he was at the banquet. He was professional as his reputation said he would be, but you were wishing there was more to your relationship. You wanted to lean into the brushed shoulders, you wanted to initiate contact with him, but you didn’t want to jeopardize anything with him, especially being so new to the team. But you let yourself wonder, what would happen if you acted on your impulses? If you let yourself think about it long enough, you could see him waiting down the hall for you. Ideally pressed against the wall, but you digress. You shook your head slightly to clear your thoughts as you walked into the conference room, and you took your seat between Spencer and Emily.

“Alright, my pretties,” Penelope greeted once everyone was seated and you looked up at the screen behind her. “Houston has reached out for our help and this one is a bit of a doozy.” Pictures flashed behind Penelope and you felt your stomach turn a little at the pictures.

“Hello, overkill,” Emily muttered and you hummed in agreement.

“We’ve clearly got a very angry person on our hands. There’s been five victims over the last two weeks, and their kill rate is starting to pick up.” Penelope said.

“They’ve killed men and women, no obvious preference for gender,” JJ said and you nodded.

“Can’t say for certain if they’re victims of opportunity, though,” you said. “I don’t know the exact area they’re acting in, but the victims all seem eerily similar. Hair color, skin color, similar builds… Someone is the object of their aggression but our unsub hasn’t gotten to their target yet.”

“And the kills are getting rushed, more violent,” Derek said.

“Wheels up in twenty,” Hotch said as he started to stand.

“You know,” Spencer started and you glanced over at him, “they look similar to you, Y/N.” The room froze and you felt everyone’s eyes turn to you.

“Don’t even say that about my lovely,” Penelope gasped dramatically and you rolled your eyes playfully at her antics.

“There are some similarities,” Rossi said and you looked up at the pictures.

“Similar features, sure, but I don’t think I’ve done anything to piss off anyone to the point of murder in Houston,” you drawled and the room started to disperse. Hotch stayed in the room, his gaze locked onto you.

“If you feel uncomfortable on this case at any time,” Hotch trailed off and you shook your head.

“I’ll be fine, Hotch. I’m not worried. But I promise, I’ll let you know if I get uncomfortable.”

“Thank you,” Hotch nodded in dismissal and you slipped out of the conference room.

-

A week later, you held an ice pack to your head where you sat in the back of an ambulance as you waited to be cleared. Turns out, they don’t call Spencer a genius for nothing. You were a perfect victim for your unsub- Officer Josh Hann- and you found yourself ambushed by him a few hours ago. You were lucky to only get away with a concussion and a few bumps and bruises. Derek stood beside you, his phone held to your ear.

“Yes, Pen, I promise I’m fine.”

“And how is our Boss Man doing?” Penelope asked and you barely repressed a cough.

“Fine, Pen.” Said Boss Man was currently a few yards away, his gaze glued to you as Rossi talked to him.

“Sounds like the perfect excuse for him to watch over you,” Penelope teased and you felt your cheeks start to burn.

“Bye, Penelope.” Penelope cackled as she hung up and you rolled your eyes then winced. “Ow.”

“I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear any of that conversation,” Derek teased and you kicked out at him, and Derek laughed as he narrowly missed your leg.

“You're lucky my vision is still a little off or I would’ve got you,” you huffed. The paramedic chose that moment to clear you and you slowly stood, grabbing onto Derek to steady yourself.

“Easy, pretty thing. Hotch is already glaring at me,” Derek lowered his voice and this time, you made contact when you stomped your foot. “You know Penelope can’t keep her mouth closed after a little wine. You’re lucky it was just me she spilled to.”

“I would resign immediately if he knew. Just throw my badge and gun as far as I could and run,” you said and Derek laughed.

“You know there’s a wager going on when he’ll find out.” Another stomp to Derek’s foot silenced him as Hotch walked over. Derek dismissed himself when Hotch was a few feet away

“Are you ready to go?” Hotch asked and you nodded, only wincing slightly after.

“So ready. I want to sleep so bad,” you admitted and Hotch hummed in response. You both started to walk to the cars, where the rest of the team had started to load up. “Not ready to be woken up every few hours to make sure I’m still coherent. I think a little risk of brain damage is worth the uninterrupted sleep.” You huffed and the corner of Hotch’s lip turned up into a small smile.

“I’m sure you’re not much worse than Jack is waking up,” Hotch said and you turned to look at him. Sensing your questioning look, Hotch spoke again a second later. “If you’re fine with me checking on you. I just… I’d feel better if I was the one to check on you. You already got hurt on my watch.”

“That wasn’t your fault, Hotch. But thank you.”

The rest of the night was relatively calm, what bits you remember clearly. You would sleep for a little, be woken up and asked a few questions by Hotch, and he would return to his bed a few feet from your own to repeat the process throughout the night. God, his morning voice would live in your memories forever. You weren’t sure what happened that night, but something changed between the two of you. And you had to admit, you liked the changes.

You found yourself paired with Hotch more often when the team split up. Hotch’s shoulders would brush against yours more often, and when Hotch laid his hand on your shoulder one day, you swear your brain short circuited. Not that you would know because you genuinely think you blacked out briefly from the contact, but Emily and Derek would never let you forget it. As time passed, you noticed you were watched by the team more often, especially when you were near Hotch. The day Hotch sat beside you on the plane, you swore you heard a squeal come from Emily before she was shushed by JJ. And this extra time spent with Hotch was great for you, but so bad for your imagination. You found yourself lost in thought more often, like a lovesick teenager. Imagining things with Hotch you know you’d never get to do, knowing he would never reciprocate your feelings. You’d stick with daydreaming for now; pretending he was waiting at the end of the hall for you when you left work. Pretending it was his suit jacket thrown on the floor instead of your own, his want for you high enough to discard his jacket like it was nothing. You could only dream… or so you thought.

You had been working on paperwork from your last case, when Hotch dropped a folder onto your desk as he walked by. You furrowed your brows as you opened the folder, and you could barely keep your expression under control as you read the sticky note inside- Meet me in my office tonight.You had to read over the note a few times for it to really set in and you glanced up, watching as Hotch went upstairs to his office as if nothing happened.

The rest of work passed by agonizingly slow, and you busied yourself with paperwork you had put off from the week. Slowly, the rest of the BAU agents had trickled out; even if it took all your self control to not push Spencer out of the building when he finally left ten minutes ago. You took a deep breath as you stood, and you made your way upstairs towards Hotch’s office. His blinds were already closed and you knocked on his door.

“Come in.” Hotch’s voice was muffled by the shut door and you slowly opened the door. Sweet Jesus, he wanted you dead. Hotch’s jacket was off, tie slightly loosened, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and you swear your brain once again malfunctioned at the sight.

“I, uh, got your note,” You said dumbly and you fought the urge to run out of the building. “Obviously,” you added and Hotch graced you with a smile, a huff of laughter leaving his lips. The sound helped you relax a little and you smiled softly at Hotch.

“You’re nervous. You’re usually not nervous around me.” The observation was surface level, but it felt like you were being studied. “If you’d rather go-”

“No!” You blurted before you cleared your throat, and you took a seat across from Hotch’s desk. “No. I guess I’m just, I’m wondering why I’m here.”

“Do you have any idea why?” Hotch asked and you leaned forward.

“I have an idea. You could even say I have a desire for why you called me here, but,” you propped your elbows on his desk, “why don’t you clear the air, Agent Hotchner?” A few moments passed in a deafening silence, your eyes locked with Hotch’s.

“I’ve tried to ignore it,” Hotch started. “I felt something different when I met you at the banquet, and I didn’t know what that feeling was. Intrigue, for sure. Then you showed up one day, and Strauss introduced you as my new agent.”

“What can I say? I like being a mysterious entity,” you said.

“And you continued to be one, and it’s gotten stronger since that case you were injured. You’re constantly preoccupying my mind,” Hotch said and you slowly stood up. You rounded his desk and sat on top of it, and you slowly reached out. Your hand found its way to his tie, and you gave it a firm tug, pulling him closer to you.

“Wanna know a secret?” You asked, leaning down closer to him. You were so close, you noticed some gold flecks in his eyes you hadn’t noticed before. “You’ve been on my mind since we first met.” You weren’t sure who closed the gap, but suddenly lips were on yours, and Hotch’s hands were on your hips and you gasped as you were yanked into his lap. You grabbed at his shirt with one hand, your other finding its home in his hair, and you felt a surge of pride when a groan slipped from Hotch’s lips. “Fuck, Aaron.”

Hotch backed away slightly and you almost whined at the loss. “What was that?”

“Aaron..?” You hesitantly repeated and Hotch pulled you closer.

“Fucking hell.” Hotch’s lips were back on yours and you lost yourself, preoccupied with him. You didn’t know how long had passed before you pulled apart, breathing heavy, and Hotch’s forehead rested against your own.

“Penelope will have a field day if she finds out about this.” You breathed out a laugh and Hotch shifted so you were looking at him.

“And what exactly do you want this to be?” Hotch seemed… nervous? Vulnerable? Something different from the confident man you had become infatuated with.

“As much as I loved making out with you, ideally?” You ran your fingers gently through Hotch’s hair. “I’d like to try getting dinner with you. Maybe spend some time together, not hidden in your office.” You smiled at Hotch. “I believe that’s what they call dating these days.”

“I haven’t dated in a while,” Hotch said and you shrugged.

“We’ll figure it out, yeah?” You asked and Hotch nodded. You pressed a gentle kiss to Hotch’s cheek and you let your head rest against his shoulder.

“I think I can work with that.”

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Take the Moment

Chapter Two of There’s Nothing Like This

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!footballer!reader

Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: guys seriously there’s more Jamie coming up I swear

The dressing room was a thriving ecosystem. It was always buzzing with energy and conversations, about weekend plans and workout routines and families and fears and new purchases. By the end of the second week, you knew who kept the best snacks in their locker, who had emergency toiletries, and who’s locker seemed void of anything remarkable, whether it was driven by fear or lack of desire you weren’t sure.

Walking into the dressing room was like passing through a wall of noise, like being enveloped in the warmth of your teammates. Stepping inside the dressing room was like coming inside after spending all day out in the cold, like nothing bad could ever happen to you.

Despite how early it was, despite the fact that you still felt half-asleep, your teammates were chattering away, loud enough for you to be able to hear bits and pieces of what everyone was saying.

“It was the grossest thing I’ve ever experienced,” you can hear someone saying, causing whoever was next to them to erupt into giggles. You couldn’t help but to smile to yourself, the love you have for your teammates doing wonders to relieve the built-up stress from the press conference last night. You’d gone home and replayed every moment over and over again, tormenting yourself until your brain couldn’t take it and you finally fell asleep.

Practice was the perfect remedy to your stress, giving you something else you needed to focus on completely so you couldn’t worry about anything else. That had always been one of your favorite aspects of the sport, the fact that while you were playing you weren’t able to think about anything but the game was what had made you stick with soccer out of all the activities you did as a young kid.

Now, though, because you were a professional there was an added layer of stress to every practice, every extra second you spent training. Still, a long day of training was the perfect thing to make you forget all about the disastrous press conference. After the rest of your team had gone home to rest before your first match, you stayed behind to work on your stamina on a treadmill as the men’s team took the field.

Sometimes you worried you were working yourself into the ground, but there was a part of your brain that wouldn’t stop pushing you to do more work, to push yourself even farther so you could prove yourself to everyone who had ever doubted you. Even though your muscles were screaming and you could feel your ankle start to swell and pulse, you increased the speed and the incline on the treadmill, telling yourself that you’d go home when the men’s team ended practice.

By the time they’re finished and you finally allow yourself to clean up and go home, you’re dripping in sweat and you were a little worried you wouldn’t be able to walk. You knew some of the girls were getting together to hype themselves up before your first match, but your evening would be spent recovering, alternating between an ice bath and heating pads in the hopes that you’d be in top shape for your first match and your debut as captain.

As you’re leaving the dressing room, dreaming about a large dinner and elevating your foot, you find Jamie waiting for you, leaning against the wall across from the door to the dressing room.

“Hey, Jamie,” you greet him with a wave and a quick smile before you’re continuing on your way, only able to think about how wonderful it’ll feel to finally lay down.

“Oh, hey,” he responds, and you miss the way he fumbles to put his phone in his pocket and catch up with you, walking in step as you exit the building. “I was just thinking how you haven’t been in Richmond long, and you’ve been so busy here with practice and all and maybe I could show you around, if you wanted?”

He’s cute, in an awkward, fumbling kind of way. Never in a million years would you have thought to describe Jamie Tartt as awkward, fumbling, or cute, but you suppose there’s a first time for everything. You wonder just how much he’s changed in the past few years, because the Jamie standing before you, fiddling with his hands, is not the Jamie you remember seeing in pictures and articles and in reality television shows.

“That’s really sweet, Jamie,” and you can see how he tries to hide a smile and it makes your heart melt a little, though you’d never admit that to anyone, “but I have plans with my bed and an ice bath tonight.”

“Oh, shit, you guys have a game tomorrow,” he looks beyond embarrassed that he hadn’t remembered or that no one had told him, “well, have fun with your ice bath.”

He turns to go, and your heart breaks the way it would seeing a puppy dumped on the side of the road, so you can’t help but shout out after him, “Maybe another time?” and you’re rewarded with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen and your chest feels warm in a way that makes you concerned for your health.

Spending your evening alone, soaking in an ice bath and eating dinner by yourself, was as exciting as it sounded. Even though it was a little boring, it was the perfect way to get you in the headspace you needed to be in for your very first match for Richmond. By the time you crawled into bed, your belly was full, your muscles felt as relaxed as possible, and you fell into a deep sleep almost immediately.

The only interesting part of your night was the dream you had where you’d thought you were getting married to Mackie and you made it all the way down the aisle before you realized you were actually marrying Jamie.

It rattled you, probably more than it should have, but you tried your best to just brush it off and go about your pre-match routine. Nerves always made it difficult for you to eat, so you settle for a light breakfast and pack plenty of snacks into your bag. Mackie comes to pick you up the way she always does, and you decide not to tell her about your dream, knowing she’d tease you relentlessly and that was the last thing you needed before a match.

Your morning only got weirder when you and Mackie entered the dressing room and it was practically silent, all of the girls huddled around something in the middle of the room. Pushing yourself into the center of the group, you noticed Elena holding a newspaper, a bold Richmond’s Women’s Team on the cover with Trent Crimm’s name on the by-line.

…a fierce group of players…

… champions in the making…

… led by a determined, slightly dangerous captain…

… all they need is belief.

It was impossible not to feel like you’re walking on air after reading that article, especially with the way Trent had picked you out of the group to mention you by name. That article was the perfect little boost you needed to head into your first match after how incredibly strange your morning was, wiping all thoughts of your weird dream away from your mind.

Walking out onto the pitch, you’re determined you can beat West Ham.

By half-time, you’re down 1-0, and you can feel the bleakness radiating off everyone in the dressing room. Roy’s trying to make an inspirational speech, trying to get you guys ready to go for the second half, but he’s floundering and everyone can tell he’s uncomfortable. As much as he believes in the team, he’s not known for being gentle with his support.

“Can I…” you ask, starting to stand from where you’d slumped yourself onto the bench by your locker. Roy nods, looking beyond relieved, so you make your way to the front of the room and take a deep breath. Despite your hatred for public speaking, you know this is something you need to do, not for yourself but for your team.

“We’re losing,” you start, and you can tell by everyone’s expressions that this isn’t what they want to hear so you go on, “we gave up an easy goal in the last five minutes, and I know we can do better. I know we can fucking win this, if we beat the boys, we can beat fucking West Ham.”

The energy’s starting to increase, you can see some of your teammates start to smile for the first time since you stepped foot onto the pitch at the beginning of the match, but you’re not done yet.

“Amelia, I’m only saying this because I love you and I think you’re amazing, but you’re playing like shit. I’m saying this because I know you can do better, I’ve seen you do better.”

You hate the way her face falls, looking like she’s hoping the floor opens up and swallows her but you need to say this, need her to believe in herself the way you believe in her, so you keep talking despite the pit in your chest.

“And I know this is your first professional match ever and that this shit is scary,” you go on, “but none of us expect perfection. We just want you to leave it all on the pitch and be the monster we know you can be.”

Despite her look of despair when you’d called her out, she’s smiling at you now and you can’t help but to smile back at her. “I believe in you, Baby,” you finish, and just mentioning her nickname seemed to make everyone perk up even more, reminding them of how great of a team you make.

“Let’s go out there and win this fucking thing,” Roy adds, and the team screams like you’re heading into battle as you head back onto the pitch to finish out the match. As you pass, you give Amelia’s shoulder a squeeze just so she knows everything you said came from a place of love and deep respect for her. The energy heading back onto the pitch is ten times more intense than when you’d headed out for the first half, and you’re more than confident in your team.

After the match, heading back to the dressing room was a goddamn party.

You’d won 2-1, with Elena scoring a goal in extra time to secure your first win by the skin of your teeth. Back in the dressing room, there’s champagne and laughter and Keeley and Rebecca screaming their faces off. You all join in, jumping up and down as if your joy is too strong to be contained inside your body. You feel sore all over and you know you'll have plenty of new bruises tomorrow, but all of that is overshadowed by how giddy, how light you feel.

You’re on the top of the world and there’s nothing that could bring you down.

The celebration is starting to get a little too rambunctious when there’s a knock on the door, revealing the entire men’s team. They’re wearing Richmond merch, but it’s your merch, shirts and hats and kits and scarves they’ve bought to support you at your first match. Really, you’re surprised you’re not sobbing with how emotional you feel, leaving the pitch to the roaring of the fans and seeing everyone as excited for your win as you are.

The boys file in, most of them heading for the alcohol while a few go find certain players, like the way Colin makes a beeline for Mackie. Jamie, though, heads straight for you and it makes you feel floaty, lightheaded in a way you weren’t before so you just chalk it up to the alcohol that’s now coursing through your veins.

When you notice your last name plastered on the back of Jamie’s kit, you can’t help the flood of laughter that bursts out of you. Seeing your reaction, a smile blooms on Jamie's face and his cheeks look a little redder than before, but you assume it’s due to the heat of the dressing room and the champagne, ignoring the fact that Jamie hasn’t drunk any.

“You just can’t let go of the number nine, can you?” You tease, grinning back at him as he shrugs with a shy sort of smile that seems so out of place with his typically confident personality. Your little moment is cut short, though, as Sam comes over to you with a beaming smile.

“You were fantastic, truly,” he says, already knowing you were going to try and downplay your skills, “I wasn’t even on the pitch and I was a little scared of you.” You laugh, unable to contain yourself in the way you’d normally try to because it really did feel amazing starting the season on a high note, starting the team on a win.

“Ah, I interrupted something,” Sam says with a knowing smile as his eyes dart between you and Jamie, “I’ll go congratulate the rest of the team.” He sends you a wink before he disappears off into the chaos of the celebration and you’re left reeling. You turn to Jamie to make a comment about how strange that was only to find him staring intently at his shoes.

So, it was back to being the strangest day of your life.

“Maybe, if you’re free tomorrow, I can take you up on your offer to show me around Richmond?” You ask, trying to break the awkwardness that had settled over your little corner of the room.

“Yeah? Perfect. Great. Cool,” Jamie says, and before you can say anything else Mackie and Elena are coming over to drag you to the middle of the party, and as much as you’d like to keep talking with Jamie, it feels good to be celebrated.

Hopefully it’s a feeling you get used to at Richmond.

Tags: @andr0medafallen @buckychristwrites @benedictscanvas @whimsical-roasting @sokkigarden @scaramou @guccilongboard @onceuponaoneshot @presidential-facts @yepyeahuhhuh @loveslide @allthefandomtherapy @gibby31 @buddyjuststop @ellietartt @cancvr @rae4725 @brianandthemays @sonyume @aiyaiy @captainfrisbee @dalebo3 @theloud-yet-quietone @imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme @rockchickrebel @legobatmans9thab @curlypeter @lostinwonderland314 @yokolesbianism @jamietarttdodo @kno-way-home @nicklet94 @fan-goddess @innocentbi-stander

[happilyfeatherafter]

Happilyfeatherafter's ficrec Fridays

Happy Friday everyone. Time for my third week of fics I've read and loved recently. It's been a busy one so just a few this week, but they're all brilliant and with fortuitous timing if you're not one to read WIPs as two are about to be completed this weekend. If you missed last week's you can find it here for more!

19 January 2024

it dawns darling on the daffodil pastures by fleeceframe (@tasteslikevelvet) - what can I say? I audibly gasped when I saw the email notification that this had been posted. Every fleeceframe fic is like being gently told it's okay to slip away for a little while and just feel, and oh boy does this one deliver on that promise. A new instalment in the lovely garden tending series, but can be read as a standalone, this features sweet subby Dean asking his gentle dom Cas to take care of him, with as fleeceframe says "religious tones in the sexy fashion, and a decent amount of plot sprinkled in." When a hunt almost ends in disaster, Dean reflects on what it means to have the unconditional love of his angel watching over him. (Siri, play Radio Company.)

Wait for the Ricochet by @bobwess gives me all the time travel shenanigans I could hope for bringing a young teen Sam and Dean forward to the bunker to meet tfw circa season 12. A wip, it just updated with a new chapter that totally made me cry with all the young queer feelings. A lovely balance of fish out of water plot and coming to terms with a future whilst reckoning with your past, with wonderful sibling dynamics as well as a burgeoning destiel relationship that's still tentatively feeling it's way.

where there is darkness by quiettewandering (@wanderingcas) has been such a wonderful wip to follow along and the final chapters are being posted this weekend HAVE JUST BEEN POSTED!!! so there's no better time to start reading. I'm not ready to let these guys go! With an incredible amount of research, this is lighthouse keeper Dean (and Sam) in a post-war setting exploring how Dean keeps a handle on his ptsd whilst also grappling with having seen his father die. Meanwhile Cas has a past packed full of secrets, and where better to run and hide than a job at an isolated lighthouse where nobody knows him. They're each other's lights in the darkness whilst the ghosts of the past haunt them all, in this eerie and gothic romantic story that truly grips you by the throat.

Fortunate Son by @friendofcarlotta is another wip that's about to post its final chapter NOW COMPLETE and absolute masterclass in character development. Set during the Vietnam war, Sam is a law student and conscientious objector, Cas the son of a strict rich and religious family who is bought out of participating, and Dean determined to follow in his father's footsteps to become a war hero like the stories he heard when he was younger. Despite butting heads at first, Dean and Cas soon find themselves falling for each other. But the war is vicious, and unjust, and they all must grapple with how it impacts their lives in unexpected ways.

(and heck, because I can, and because this is what I was doing last weekend in lieu of reading, here's my Dean Winchester SPNWIN voiceover audio post, and my first ever attempt at an AMV fanvid featuring Ada Monroe).

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

Electric Love - Full Chapter

Want early chapters? Read on Ao3!

Chapter 3: What's in a Deal?

Link to Chapter 1

Notes: Support me by reading on Ao3! Kudos and comments help motivate me to see multi-chapter fics through to the end! I'll be posting announcements for the updates here. Chapters will come out on Ao3 BEFORE tumblr.

Word Count: 5628

Tag List: @sle3pyh3ad2

The extermination was coming in six months.

News spread immediately after the Princess of Hell met with the angels and to say Hell was freaking out was an understatement. For the first few weeks after the announcement, you avoided going outside as much as possible. No one was in their right mind and the more you kept your head down in your little cloaked observatory, the better.

Baxter really had been a game changer when it came to your living situation. You’d put in a lot of hard work fixing up the abandoned place and it looked pretty nice. Too nice for the dark corner of the Pride Ring you were in. He’d given you a cloaking device that made the observatory look as shit and abandoned as the rest of the dead neighborhood while the inside was in comfortable condition.

Even with the system in place, you slept with one eye open as you noticed more sinners slink into the area. Due to the recent news, it seemed some were considering using the district as a potential hideout for the upcoming extermination. Everyone was on edge and nothing felt safe.

Despite this, you had a life to live. Everyone did. Which is why after a while, things went back to normal. You buried yourself in your work to avoid dwelling on the anxiety of the shitty afterlife you were dealt and that was that. Work wasn’t the only thing occupying your attention either.

For the first couple of weeks, since Vox had gracelessly stumbled into your life, there was silence. Not wanting to get anyone’s hopes up, you kept your mouth shut and didn’t tell anyone about the deal you had made. Even with the protection of the deal, you didn’t doubt that someone as powerful as an Overlord could easily double-cross someone like you.

But then it happened. First, it was just one of your friends texting the group chat you were in that they were free of their contract. You’d all hopped on a group call and planned a celebration while she happily cried uncontrollably. She had no other explanation for Valentino’s change in heart other than him telling her that he simply got bored of her services and didn’t want to waste the studio slots on her. While that comment did bruise her ego a bit, she was too relieved to care. 

Then it hit all at once. Everyone on the list was suddenly blowing up your phone with the news that they’d been released from their contracts and could start a new afterlife with their newfound freedom. Apparently, Valentino had covered up the entire thing by saying it was a quality cull for the sake of his image. Only a few people took the time to wonder if there was something more to the whole thing. Especially since some of the sinners he released were fairly popular for their work.

The only time you left your home for anything other than basic errands was the night you all gathered at a club and celebrated over the weekend. It was one of the craziest parties you’d ever been to, filled with drugs, sex, and a lot of happy crying. 

You thought that was the end of it. Life would go back to normal aside from the growing political tensions between Heaven and Hell. You would stay cooped up and work your ass off on putting together your game and keep to yourself aside from the occasional night on the town with friends. So you personally thought your disbelief was entirely warranted when your day was interrupted by a certain overlord knocking on your front door.

Vox tapped his foot impatiently as he looked around the neighborhood. The place was a piece of shit. It wasn’t like anyone hiding out here would be stupid enough to attack someone with his reputation, but he still felt unsettled as he knocked again and waited for you to let him in. He wasn’t in the mood to repeat what happened the last time he barged in unannounced.

The sound of you crashing about behind the large double doors could be heard. It took a moment before you finally appeared, opening the door with disheveled hair and a bathrobe lazily hanging off of one shoulder, barely revealing your pajamas underneath.

"Vox," you breathe before you chuckle awkwardly. "I'd say you should have called first, but you don't have my number."

"Technically I could if I looked hard enough," Vox chuckled as he looked at the disheveled state you were in. “But is it really so surprising that I’d check in after finishing the last of our little deal?”

"Kinda, yeah," you shake your head as you step back to let him in. You were immediately skeptical. There was no way Vox came all the way to such a sketchy corner of Hell just to be told he did a good job. He wanted something and you weren’t too keen on having that discussion out in the open. The faint shimmer of a cloaking barrier could be seen in the doorway. "Come on in."

The overlord stepped inside, his eyes flicking around the room and taking in everything that he could. He’d only seen the small office tucked in the back of the observatory the last time he was here. There was a big circular opening with a broken-down telescope that connected to the dome-like ceiling in the middle of the room. A desk covered with papers was pushed up against the side of the telescope and you’d split the large space into three areas in an attempt to refashion the space for living purposes. 

There was a kitchen made out of plug-in appliances and mismatched furniture on the left. Vox cringed as he saw the power cords working overtime just to keep everything running. The telescope seemed to act as a secondary office for you and you had a couch with a TV setup not too far from it to imitate a living room space. There were also dozens of boxes filled with junk that he had to imagine originally belonged to the observatory and you just never got around to disposing of properly. 

"Can I get you anything?" You say as you step into the main space after closing and bolting the doors behind you. Annoyed that your bathrobe keeps slipping off of your shoulder, you fight with it for a moment before foregoing it entirely and tossing it over a tower of books.

"Coffee, if you have it," Vox replied as he followed you into the small living room area. “The amount of shit I’ve had to take care of every since the bimbo leading Hell fucked us all over has left me running on caffeine for the past month.” 

He didn't mind the sight of books being stacked up on top of each other as he glanced around, taking in the area. Though the place wasn't the best-looking, it was evident that you had put a lot of work into making it livable. Considering how it looked on the outside, he could only imagine the state the place was in back when you found it.

You start prepping a fresh pot of coffee, wanting some for yourself as well. "So, my friends texted me," you say.

You turn and lean against the counter to look at him properly while the kitchen appliance worked its magic. "They all told me the same thing. How Valentino cut their contracts, saying he was doing quality control for the studio out of the blue. You kept your end of the deal."

"Yes, I did. But that's not the only reason I've come here," Vox murmured as he idly looked at some of the papers on the coffee table in the corner. "I couldn’t help but be intrigued by your… connections.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him as you watch him put down a paper that doesn’t keep his attention. “What about them?”

“At first, I didn’t care too much about your friends,” Vox admitted. “But I couldn’t help but shake the image of you with Angel Dust. So I did some digging and I’m just going to cut to the point. You’ve been to that hotel the princess has been running, haven’t you?”

You cross your arms, studying him carefully, “Well, aren’t you quite the stalker?”

“I like knowing things,” Vox waved you off with a frown. “But for good reason. It’s true, right?”

“It is,” you shrug, not seeing a reason to hide it. “At first, I just went to visit Angel. Helped him move in and stuff like that. The group there grew on me and I help out around the hotel sometimes if Angel and I aren’t already doing something else.”

Vox grins and you immediately catch on to his line of thought. "I'll say it now, don't get your hopes up," you warn him as the coffee pot beeps behind you. "I care for Charlie and Angel Dust a lot. I helped you against Valentino, but I won't betray the hotel."

"I’m not stupid,” Vox chuckles. “You’re a fool if you think that I don't already know you wouldn't betray them." The overlord scoffed as he watched you turn to search the cupboards for mugs. 

"You're far too compassionate for your own good, little drama queen,” Vox said with a roll of his eyes as he walked over to you. “Which is why you're rather easy to read. You claim you don’t care about the power struggles in Hell, but in the same breath, you helped me against Valentino… That tells me that you may be willing to strike up another deal."

Your fingers freeze just as you’re about to pluck a mug from the shelf. You knew it was coming and yet, it still caught you off guard. "...What did you have in mind?"

"You see, my dear old rival Alastor has been up to something and I don’t know what. He's getting a bit too close to little Miss Morningstar for my own comfort, and it's becoming… rather bothersome." Vox murmured as he watched you idly. "Though that's just the surface; there is also the fact that I'd like to be able to keep a constant eye on him. As you well know, Alastor enjoys playing with his cards close to his chest..."

“So what?” You frown as you pour the coffee into the mismatched mugs. “You want me to spy on Alastor?”

“Precisely,” Vox grins. He’d chosen someone too naive and careless the last time he attempted to get eyes on the inside of the hotel. You met the requirements Velvette had clearly laid out and unlike the snake, you had proper potential. Still stupid in your own ways, but not like the previous dumbass he’d tried to use for this particular purpose.

"And why would I do that?" You frown. "You've already played the card you had with me. There’s nothing else I could possibly want from you.”

"Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure," Vox smirked as he took one of the mugs. "I’d like to think our last little exchange was rather beneficial for us both. I’m nothing if not resourceful and everyone has their price.”

"And you think you know mine?" You frown, pulling open your fridge and grabbing the ingredients to turn your bitter black coffee into a mocha. The fact that Vox was drinking his black disgusted you, but you supposed when he needed that much coffee to get by, he didn’t have the time to be picky. "Even if I were to agree to this deal, it'd come with a lot of conditions. I meant it when I said I won't compromise the hotel."

"I’d expect nothing less,” Vox shrugged as he took a sip. “And we’ll get to that part next. Right now, you want to know what’s in it for you. Any smart demon wouldn’t bother with a deal that didn’t benefit them in some way and I’ve got just the thing.”

You’re completely unimpressed by the shift into a sales pitch, but say nothing as you mix chocolate powder and raspberry syrup into your drink. 

“I know that you have rather a deep love for your work and your creations, so if you were to help me keep an eye on Alastor... I’m happy to give you what you want more than anything,” Vox grinned as he prepared to offer you what he was thoroughly convinced was the key to pulling you under his wing of control. 

“More than just money, more than that Radio Demon could ever offer you… I’m willing to give you your very own company. A company that would allow you to complete whatever project your heart desires with the full financial support of a top-tier overlord in Hell.”

Vox smirked as he watched your movements slow to a stop throughout his sales pitch. “Does that sound interesting to you, little drama queen?"

He knew he had you. There was no way he didn’t. He’d done his research and saw how low your statistics were. You’d posted art and various other types of content on your social media and you had a following, but it wasn’t large. Especially not compared to what he knew it could be. The game you were working on was clearly meant to be your big debut into the industry, but even without that, the quality of your work was nothing to scoff at. With the power and control he was offering you, your numbers would skyrocket. You’d no longer be a team of one and could bring your visions to life at a much higher speed with far more efficiency than you could dream of on your own.

Your hesitation speaks volumes and he’s just waiting smugly for you to take the bait. However, instead, you just smile softly and shake your head. "You're going to think I'm crazy, but I'll actually pass on that."

There’s a beat of silence as Vox replays your answer in his head to make sure he heard you right. He nearly dropped the mug in his hands as he comprehended that you genuinely just turned him down.

"You're… joking, right?" Vox exclaimed in disbelief, as he set down the mug on the counter. "You're going to pass up on being the owner of your very own company with infinite financing and control?”

"Yup," you say with a pop for emphasis. "My content is my heart and soul. It's my passion. It has to be built up from my hard work, my dreams, and my well-intentioned connections. If I let someone else just hand it all to me on a silver platter, it wouldn’t be the same at all."

"You're absolutely insane," Vox muttered, shaking his head as he questioned your sanity entirely. "You’re seriously refusing my deal? You refuse infinite fucking funding?! All because of what? Pride?”

"Yeah," you said easily with a relaxed grin as you went back to stirring your drink like you hadn’t just casually declined all the power and money to make your dreams come true.

The overlord took a deep steadying breath as he tried to process the absolute stupidity of your decision. There wasn’t a single sinner in Hell that would pass up on a deal like this, and you just... turned it down in favor of hard work and dedication. The insane stubbornness of your choice left him speechless.

"That being said," you hum thought thoughtfully. "I do think you have something else that I'd be willing to trade for."

The overlord's attention snaps back to you, looking over you skeptically. "Oh, well now I'm curious... What could you possibly want more than an entire goddamn company?"

"It’s something you actually brought up during our last deal,” you say as you sip your drink and lean back against the counter. “I know Valentino would never release Angel Dust's contract willingly," you start carefully. "So instead, I want you to distract Valentino. For as long as I uphold my end of the deal regarding Alastor, you will do everything you can to protect Angel Dust from Valentino's anger and abuse.”

"Protect Angel Dust from Valentino's abuse..." Vox murmured as he shifted back. It wasn’t an easy request. In fact, Vox wondered if it was even possible. He was already running scenarios and contradictions over in his mind as he considered the possibilities. "And… how would you want me to go about doing that?"

"Subtly," you sigh. "If you're too direct, it could just make Valentino angrier and more violent with Angel. Butter up Valentino, distract him, send other sinners his way, whatever it takes. Just… lessen the damage and keep Valentino from catching on.”

"Hmm... that is quite a fascinating challenge you've given me…” Vox murmured as he ran his thumb along his chin. “But, I think I can manage.”

If anything, your proposition intrigued him. Rather than getting to just hand you money and power, which he had plenty of, you were putting him in just as sticky of a situation as the one he wanted to put you in. It set the playing field on equal ground. Neither of you were asking the other to completely betray their factions, but you were both putting each other at high risk.

"I'll keep tabs on Alastor, just like you want,” you frown. As much as you hated the idea of doing it, Alastor was one of the only people at the hotel you had no real connection with. He’d never seemed interested in what you had to offer, so he didn’t waste his time on you. Likewise, you were too focused on Angel and Charlie to pay him much mind either. 

“However,” you clarify. “I'll only relay the information I discover of his personal activities. Anything involved with the hotel or Charlie is off-limits."

"Hm..." Vox murmured, considering the terms of the deal. "Very well then, I'll agree to these terms. I may not be a fan of the hotel, but ultimately I don’t care about it half as much as I do Alastor. I want to know what he’s trying to gain from the hotel, but anything involving the princess’s little pet project doesn’t particularly interest me anyway.”

You pause, thinking hard before nodding. "One more condition. If Alastor catches me and kills me for what I'm doing for you, you have to keep protecting Angel Dust from Valentino until whatever you had planned for lessening Valentino’s influence is underway.”

"Hmm..." The overlord murmured as he thought for a moment before he slowly nodded. "Very well, I accept these terms. I’ll protect Angel Dust until I take Valentino down for my own schemes. Do you have anything else to add before we conclude this deal?"

You shake your head, "I'm guessing you'll want to make at least one other deal with me one day. Knowing that, you'd be foolish to try to loophole or double-cross me with this deal. So I think we're good to go."

"I think you have a rather good understanding of me, little drama queen." The overlord grinned. Every time he thought he knew what to expect, you managed to pull the rug out from under him. Rather than being annoyed by the change in his original plans for this deal, he was excited and curious to see what other surprises could come from being involved with you. "Alright then... with that being said, we should seal our deal."

Your magic flares, as the familiar purple mist flows gently around you. You hold out your hand, ready to seal the deal. For the protection of your friend, you were willing to betray Alastor. You may not have hated him like Vox did, but you were somewhat wary of him. The way he always seemed like he was hiding ill intentions behind his permanent grin never settled well with you. There had been times you wondered yourself what he wanted from Charlie and while you weren’t as close to the princess as you were with Angel, you could tell if things kept going the way they were, you’d care for her just as much as any of your other friends. With that in mind, this was a risk you were willing to take.

The overlord's own magic flared to life, blue electricity filling the air. Your hands connected and the mist and sparks swirled around each other in a bright flash before dissipating entirely.

You slowly pull back, flexing your hand as you feel the sparks from his magic still tingling your skin. "So that's that," you hum.

"Indeed it is," The overlord murmured as he let out a quiet sigh of relief. "Our deal is sealed. There’s no going back now. You realize that, correct?"

"I know," you say softly as you accept the weight of knowing there was a good chance if you got caught, Alastor would broadcast your slow and gruesome murder on the radio for all of Hell to hear. "At least if shit goes south, you'll find out pretty quickly," you chuckle dryly, cringing at the thought.

There was a faint hint of a smirk that appeared on the overlord's face as he considered your words. "Well, if nothing else, you’ve earned my respect. You’re fully aware of what’s at stake, yet you agreed to the deal anyway. You are either insane... or extremely brave."

"Why not both?" You chuckle. You were putting your life at risk, and you had rejected his offer of riches and power, opting for the protection of a friend instead. To say your priorities were skewed would be an understatement to most sinners.

"The longer this little game of ours goes on, the more I want to pull you into the world of Hell’s politics," The overlord murmured with a smirk. "I’ve seen your video game work and I won’t deny it has potential, but I think you underestimate your potential for something more.”

You cringe, sticking your tongue out as if the very thought of it left a bad taste in your mouth. “Pass. I’ll leave the evil overlording to you and your stupid bow tie.”

“Fuck you, it’s classy,” Vox snickered as he shook his head. “Plus, how much room do you have to talk when I haven’t seen you wear proper clothing since we’ve met?”

“Fuck you,” you say playfully with a grin. “We’ve only met twice and both times you’ve shown up without warning to my home. Are you seriously telling me you lounge about in your time off in that getup?”

“Bold of you to assume I have time off,” Vox chuckled. “Now... it seems that we both have our parts to play in this deal. You’ll keep tabs on Alastor, and I’ll protect Angel Dust from Valentino when I have the opportunity to do so. I’m around often enough, but it may take a moment for me to get the hang of things. Do you have any other thoughts you wish to add before we part ways?"

You try not to show that you're disappointed in how quickly the meeting is ending. It was true that someone like Vox didn’t exactly have the time to spare to chat with you. It’s not like you were friends or anything. Just convenient dealmakers. But you’d be lying if you didn’t say you found your interactions to be fun despite the risk that came with them.

"How do you want me to get ahold of you if I learn anything about Alastor?" You ask.

Your phone suddenly vibrates in your pocket and you jump with a startled yelp, spilling some of your drink on your shirt. Vox laughs as you grumble and lightly kick at his shin. When you pull out your phone, his face is mocking you from the screen.

“I have access to every device with a screen in all of Hell,” Vox smirked as you tried to swipe away his face to no avail. “I’ve put my number in your phone and yours is now in mine. I have access to anything on your device I want. Your notes, your texts, your camera, your microphone. I can see anything I want, whenever I want. It shouldn’t be too hard to get my attention.”

You huff, crossing your arms after you shove the phone back into your pocket. "Stalker."

The overlord's grin narrowed. "I prefer to think of it as surveillance. But if you prefer to think of it as stalking, it's up to you."

You roll your eyes and shake your head with a melodramatic sigh, "No more reading fanfiction on my phone in the shower for me." 

The overlord couldn't help but laugh at your comment. "I wouldn’t necessarily complain.”

Your face feels like someone just set you on fire and Vox smirks as he mentally checks another point in his favor in the little game of back-and-forth between the two of you. It was extremely amusing for him to see how the occasional little comment here and there threw you off your game so easily. He was used to all sorts of depraved commentary from Valentino and Velvette’s sass was unmatched. Pulling reactions out of you so easily was delightfully entertaining.

Acting like he hadn’t just casually dropped such a comment, Vox switched back to a more businesslike demeanor as he added. “Just know that I will be checking in every now and then, regardless of how often I hear from you. You’ll have to start going to the hotel more as well and I’ll know where you are from now on too.”

Shaking off your embarrassment, you give a mock salute with two of your fingers as you make a note of the conditions of your deal, "Yes Sir, Mr. Stalker, Sir."

The overlord smirked slightly back at you before he chuckled. "Well, little drama queen, it looks like our business with one another has concluded. I’ll keep in touch."

----

It was a while before you finally had a substantial update for Vox. Neither of you were too surprised that it would take time before you could naturally find anything of use. Still, it left you feeling unsettled not having anything to offer. You didn’t want to risk Vox getting fed up with your lack of results and calling the deal off. Especially after the shit show that happened at Valentino’s studio when Charlie tried to get time off for Angel. But now you finally had something.

Charlie had been freaking out as the clock whittled down the time until the next extermination. So much so, that she had put aside her raging daddy issues long enough to invite her father to the hotel. When she asked if you’d come to the hotel to provide emotional support and help in case things went south, you happily agreed. You’d been coming by more often and as you suspected, you ended up growing even more attached to the hotel and the rag tag team keeping it together. 

Every time you visited, you had to push down the dark, squirming guilt that behind every laugh, every smile, every mishap, was an ulterior motive. You were always watching Alastor out of the corner of your eye. Waiting for something, anything that could be of use to Vox that didn’t involve the hotel. 

Between the chaos of Lucifer setting off something competitive in Alastor, the unexpected appearance of Mimzy, and the chaos that came with Charlie’s desperate attempts to prove her point to her dad, there was finally a crack in Alastor’s carefully composed disposition. 

While everyone was preoccupied dealing with their own slice of the chaos, you ducked into one of the empty rooms and pulled out your phone. Vox hadn’t been kidding how easy it was to get ahold of him. All it took was a single text with nothing more than his name and the little bubbles that showed he was typing immediately let you know that you had his attention.

Vox: What is it? Did you discover something of note regarding Alastor?

Y/N: I did. It seems like he's under a contract with someone. I don't know who or what the details are, but I overheard him talking in the hall, and it sounds like someone else might own Alastor's soul.

The overlord's eyes narrowed as he read your text. The idea of someone having a contract with Alastor intrigued him, as it was the potential to have a certain level of control over the radio demon.

Vox: I see... and was there any indication as to who they were?

Y/N: He's too tight-lipped to let something like that slip. But honestly? My bets are on Lilith. She disappeared at the same time he did, and she’s of higher status.

Vox paused as he read the text and considered your words. Valentino and Velvette were bitching about something he hadn’t been paying attention to as he slipped out of the room and rolled the possibilities over in his mind. His heart was racing and he could feel the static sparks dancing across his skin. He finally had something. 

The big unanswered question that had been haunting him for so long came with no hints, no arrows pointing him in a direction that could finally give him the answers he was owed. But now? Even if the information you’d given him was circumstantial, it was something. After seven fucking years of having nothing, there was finally a straw for him to grasp at.

Vox: I see where you are coming from. Lilith or someone of her caliber would have something of interest worthy of a deal. The real question is what could be worth a deal like that to Alastor? And what did he offer in exchange?

Vox: This is good. Like really fucking good. If you find out anything else, let me know.

You send him a little thumbs-up emoji before asking,

Y/n: Have you been protecting Angel Dust?

All Vox wanted to do was retreat to his surveillance room and get to work on digging up what he could with this new lead you’d given him. He was already marching his way through the penthouse shared between him and the other Vees as he typed.

Vox: It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve been ensuring that Angel Dust has received a very minimum level of abuse from Valentino. So, yes, I have been protecting his soul for you little drama queen. It is our deal, after all.

Y/N: Stop calling me that >:((((

Y/N: And thank you…

Vox barked out a laugh at your irritated response. He hadn’t realized he’d given you a nickname, but now that he knew it bothered you he would be sure to double down. He ignored Velvette asking him where he was off to in such a rush and simply waved off Valentino with promises of updating them later as he stepped onto the pad that’d take him down to his lair.

He was too glued to his phone to notice the look of bewilderment the Vee’s exchanged from where they sat on the couch. They’d only seen him so attached to his phone when he was in a foul mood from dealing with work shit. They’d never seen him with such a downright giddy grin like the one he was unknowingly wearing as he started a call on your phone without warning.

Not expecting the call, you jumped with a startled gasp as his face suddenly flooded your screen.

“Shit, fuck- motherfucker!” you swore under your breath as you grabbed at your phone in the air, trying not to drop it.

Vox laughed as you tumbled with the device and if you weren’t broke as hell, you would have considered chucking it out the window.

“Vox!” you hiss quietly as you step further into the empty hotel room and away from the door where anyone in the hall could hear you. “You can’t just hack into my phone and pop up without warning when I’m at the hotel! What if I wasn’t alone?”

“I tapped into the microphone and didn’t hear anyone else,” Vox rolled his eyes with a smug grin as he made his way to his surveillance setup. “I’m not that stupid, drama queen.”

You groaned, hating the corny nickname even more as you heard him say it out loud. “My point still stands, you shitty stalker.”

“You’ll learn to love it,” Vox chuckled as he sat in his dark office chair and swiveled around to start doing some research on his computer. “Now then, where exactly did you hear about this contract Alastor may have?”

"One of his old friends came to the hotel to escape some loan sharks,” you say slowly as you sit down on the bed. You take your time, trying to consider what you believed was safe to tell Vox without giving too much away. “I overheard someone telling him what to do regarding her, and it was brought up during the argument. They didn't know I was nearby."

Vox hummed as he started looking into the disappearance of Lilith and the events leading up to it. "Interesting... very interesting indeed. So Alastor may have made a deal with Lilith before they both went off the radar… If not her, then someone of similar status…”

You nodded and hummed along as he began to go down the rabbit hole of research and theories. The sound of Charlie and Lucifer having a heartfelt showtune moment down in the lobby softly reverberated through the walls of the hotel and you couldn’t help but smile as you listened to Vox’s excitement as he followed the lead.

Now if only you had noticed the shadow in the corner…

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

Could you a James Potter x reader fluff thank you so much

hope you like it!

pairing: James Potter x reader 

tags: fluff, first date 

word count: 2.3k

The Best Worst First Date

“Do you want to go out? Maybe tomorrow?” There. He said it. He couldn’t believe he said it. It had been weighing on him so heavily for so long; there’s no way he had actually asked. He probably just imagined it like he had a million times already.

“Sure!” you respond. 

Okay, way too easy, definitely imagined it. 

“Is there anything in particular you were thinking? I know Remus has been talking about that new restaurant.” 

Dinner! Great, he could take you to dinner. 

“Although, I know Sirius wasn’t super excited by the menu, so we should probably choose something everyone wants.” 

Wait, what?

“Sirius?” 

“Yeah. What? Is he busy tomorrow or something? Just us and Rem and Lily then?”

Oh, god. No wonder. How could he possibly clarify without loads of awkwardness? Maybe he should just forget it, go out with all his friends like every other weekend, you included. Or… or… “No, Sirius isn’t busy.” “Oh.” “As far as I know, anyway. I dunno, maybe he is.” Fuck, not relevant, not relevant. 

“Ok?” “But, uh, I actually meant maybe, you know, not just us and Rem and Lily, but just… just us.” A beat. “If you fancy it!” God, too loud, shit. Had he ever had any game? or does he just lose it any time you’re around?

“Oh.”

“Yeah…”

“Sure,” softer this time. Unsure? But you smile your adorable smile, the subtle one where your lips go more sideways than up and your eyes sparkle a little, though he almost misses that as you look down. 

“Yeah?” hopeful, bright. “Yeah,” certain, warm. 

“Brilliant.” 

You’re not sure what to wear. James didn’t tell you what you were doing on your date. It is a date, right? That word never came up, now that you think about it (although, let’s be honest, it’s all you’ve been thinking about since yesterday; you’ve run it over and over in your mind about a million and a half times). But he wanted it to just be you and him. Sounds like a date. Right?

You try on all your favorite clothes, even a few you think might surprise you. Nothing feels quite right, but you opt for staying yourself, just yourself a little done up.

You’re considering changing or putting on more make up or perhaps spontaneously combusting when James knocks.

You run over, take a deep breath, and open the door to the most handsome man you’ve ever met. “Ready?” he asks. “You look lovely. You always do though.” It’s cheesy, but coming from him, and with that melting sincerity, it makes you feel warm and loved. 

“Thanks, Jamie. You look lovely too.” 

He blushes and smiles, adjusts his glasses, and leads you out.

He had it all planned. An early dinner first, a walk in your favourite park next, then seeing that new film you’d talked about excitedly last week. A bit typical, but hey, hopefully classic is classic for a reason. 

He’d spent hours debating the right restaurant to take you to. He opted for somewhere that advertised itself as an intimate space with a home-cooked menu. Sounded wholesome. And romantic, hopefully. 

You walk in to the restaurant, and his stomach drops. It’s not “intimate.” It’s tiny. And not in an exclusive way, or a cute way, or just a tiny way. It’s tiny in a dingy way, and he cringes as you struggle to get across the small space when the appearance of a waiter — a common occurrence at a restaurant, you’d think — fills the cramped space between tables too much for you to be able to get past without some awkward squeezing.

He’s grateful when you finally sit down… until your chair creaks and leaves you sitting lopsided. It gets a bit - just a bit - less mortifying when you laugh, seemingly actually amused at the situation. James chuckles with you.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, love. Um, excuse me? Can we get a different chair here please?” “Thanks,” you laugh. 

You get a new chair, with plenty more awkward squeezing due to size constraints, but all seems to be going smoothly after that. You chat, you laugh, you order. 

Just as James is settling in, thinking maybe this place isn’t so bad, though, the food arrives. And he wants to go bury himself in a pile of blankets at home and never face the outside world - let alone you — again. 

It looks terrible. Terrible is a compliment actually. It looks downright inedible. “Home-made”? More like rubbish-rummaged.

“Uh…” you hold up a bit of it with your fork but plop it right back down. You laugh again, but this time James doesn’t join you. “Would you think I’m a terrible person if I don’t eat any of this and they have to take it back as is?” you ask, half joking. “No, no. I mean, it’s not great, but god, what’s the alternative?” He sticks his fork in his food, and the texture reminds him of 80’s horror movie special effects. 

“I dunno? Food poisoning?” you respond conspiratorially. He can’t help but chuckle with you. 

You fill up a bit on the stale bread, make a lame excuse about being in a rush, pay and start to leave. “I was thinking we could for a walk now? If you fancy it. That park you always talk about isn’t far from here, right?” That was a main consideration in choosing this crap restaurant, and he hopes it makes it worth it. 

“Right! Sounds great,” you smile at him. 

You squeeze past another unlucky couple heading into the restaurant and head out… into a cold drizzly evening. God, this had to be a cruel joke from the universe. It had been sunny just this afternoon. 

James looks over at you and catches you tugging your jumper sleeves down and bundling into it as best as possible. He thinks of proposing a different plan, but he can’t for the life of him think of something else to do from how nervous he is. What do people do?? The movie isn’t for a while. You don’t say anything either, though, so he just smiles and turns toward the park. He takes a chance and puts his arm around you — a new thing for the two of you — and rubs your shoulders to warm you up. It definitely helps warm you up, for more reasons than mere body heat. You lean into him, and he can’t help but think that maybe this isn’t so bad. As he does, an icy gust of wind freezes his face and hands. 

You trudge through to the park, getting only a bit damp but very cold. The park looks absolutely lovely in the wintry weather, but you’re more than a bit uncomfortable from the cold. You try to make conversation, especially because James looks stunned into silence, and you can tell he feels responsible for bad weather of all things. You can’t get more than a couple words out, though, from how hard your teeth start chattering. 

It’s cartoonish, and it makes you laugh. James looks down at you as if you’ve gone mad, but at the sight of your laughing face, his stressed demeanor melts into deep laughter. 

You’re still on the edge of the park, and at another gust of wind, you take his hand and pull him over to the small lane alongside it. 

There’s a little shop there, and you pop in to see if there is a nice scarf, hat, mittens, anything really that might help. Others may have had the same idea, though, because there is only one scarf left, and it’s pretty horrendous. The patterns don’t match, and it looks more like a costume piece than anything else. But it also feels very warm… 

James catches you eyeing it, and resting his hand on your lower back, asks, “You like it? I can get it for you if you want. It’s the least I can do,” he half laugh half grumbles. 

“After what? You’ve not done anything wrong,” you say gently. “Well, I dunno. It was my brilliant idea to go walking in this welcoming weather,” he responds sardonically. You don’t know how to comfort him, so you just bump him with your shoulder playfully, shaking your head at him that it was no big deal. The scarf is horrible, but you are cold, so you pick it up. He takes it to the counter and buys it for you.

When he comes back over, your cheeks warm up dramatically, not from the warm shop, but from his wrapping it around your neck gently and carefully, his face scrunched up in an adorable and adoring concentration. 

“Thanks,” you whisper. He just smiles. 

You kill time looking around from establishment to establishment, and when the movie is near enough, James tells you you should head to the next part of the night. You follow him excitedly. As you near the cinema, your anticipation builds, expecting what the next activity is. You remember talking animatedly about this new film, and wrap your arm around James in a loving half hug, overcome with affection at how he always pays attention to and remembers what you say to him. 

He reciprocates, squeezing tight and kissing the top of your head as you walk on. You’re surprised at how natural this all feels, all these new gestures between the two of you that just feel so right, exciting and comforting at once. 

Lost in your thoughts, you’re confused and worried when James goes stiff beside you, stopping dead in his tracks. Looking up at him, you see his face paling, his eyes wide as he looks ahead. You follow his gaze to see the big “sold out” sign splattered on top of the new movie title. “Fuck,” you hear beside you. “Fucking hell,” a bit louder. He turns toward you, stress all over his lovely features. “I’m so sorry, love. I didn’t think to get tickets ahead of time. I’m such an idiot; I can’t believe I didn’t think of it; of course there was a good chance it would sell out; and if I’d brought you earlier instead of just killing time,” spills out of his mouth at top speed. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s alright, really, it’s fine,” you try to stop him. You rub his shoulder comfortingly. 

He tilts his head back and groans. 

“I can’t believe how royally I’ve fucked this up. I finally work up the courage, and then this is what I deliver? God, I wouldn’t blame you for regretting this.” 

“I don’t regret this,” you say very seriously. His eyes meet yours and linger there. “You don’t?” he asks hopefully.

“Not even a tiny bit. Of course I don’t. It didn’t matter what we did, James; of course it didn’t. The worst restaurant, the ugliest scarf, no movie - none of this matters one bit as long as we get to experience it together,” you utter warmly, chuckling at your luck. “Shit, the scarf is ugly?” he asks aghast. “I was thinking it was about the only thing that had gone right tonight!” 

You’re laughing hard at his horrified expression, and you have to wipe a tear from your eye as you tell him you love it. 

“You just said it was horrible,” he challenges, but he’s failing to hold back his smile. “It is. Horrendous, really. But I love it. Because you gave it to me. And I’m going to treasure it always as a reminder of our first date.”

He playfully tugs on it, now fully smiling down on you. “Yeah? You want to remember this? Inedible food, freezing weather, not seeing the movie?” “Yup. Every second of it. I want to remember inedible food and the hilarious face you made when you stuck your fork in it, freezing weather and how much warmer I felt with your arm around me, not seeing the movie and having our first kiss outside the cinema instead…” Your voice is soft by the end, your nerves overpowering your hopes. 

His face grows serious, and he takes a step closer to you. His hand comes up to caress your cheek gently, and you lean into it. “That doesn’t sound too bad,” he whispers, smiling softly, his face nearer yours than it has ever been. 

You bite your lower lip in anticipation, and his eyes shoot down to it. You both inch closer, and your foreheads meet, and he bumps his nose with yours. It makes you smile, and a moment later, you are smiling into his kiss. 

His lips are cold and a bit chapped from the cold, but they feel perfect against yours. His other hand comes up to the other side of your face, and he cups it gently as his mouth explores yours slowly. You tilt your head one way, then the other, following his movements. He sucks on your lip, and you chuckle in response, moving your hands from his shoulders to around his neck, holding him closer. 

He pulls back a bit, gazing into your eyes, smiling, but as he goes to keep kissing you, your stomach grumbles loudly. 

“Oh, god,” you say, embarrassed, hiding your face in his chest. 

You’re worried his stress at the planning fiasco is going to return, but you feel him laughing against you, and the warmth of it fills you with a happy ease you know you’ll keep craving. 

“What do you say we get some take-away then watch a movie at mine? Won’t be as glamorous, but I can promise plenty of blankets and shared body warmth,” he says, still caressing your cheek. 

You lean forward, kissing him gently but lingeringly. 

“Sounds absolutely perfect.”

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: January 12/24

Happy Friday everyone!! I hope you had a wonderful week, and are ready to enjoy some more fic recs to get you started on the weekend! Enjoy!!

RECENTLY BOOKMARKED

Spare Parts by Raina_at (E, 63,497 w., 10 Ch. || 24th Century / Futurism AU || Post TRF, Pre-TRF Relationship, Case Fic, Mutual Pining, Estrangement, Reconciliation, Science Fiction, Reunion, Nightmares, Angry John, Cybernetic John, Emotional Discussions / Heart to Heart, POV John, Scars, Past Drug Use, Forehead Touching, Emotional Lovemaking, Kissing, Apologies, Kidnapping, Rescue Mission, BAMF John, Bed Sharing, Top Sherlock) – Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them. Part 1 of Realigning Gravity

Fade To Black by twistedthicket1 (M, 93,389 w., 29 Ch. || Split Personality Disorder / DID, Action, Romance, Violence, Implied Rape/Non-Con, BAMF John, Fluff and Angst, Baskerville, Human Experimentation, PTSD, Implied Self Harm, Trauma Amnesia, Past Child Sexual Abuse, Protective Sherlock, Smoking, Meddling Mycroft, Past Victor/Sherlock, Gay Sherlock, Sherlock’s Past, First Kiss/Time) – John Watson believes one day he'll just fade. That he'll drown in the black spaces of his mind, and that one day he will no longer exist. It's always been like this, the dark spots marking out moments in his life he can't remember. Where for just a moment he's someone else. Having a Dissociative identity disorder, he can't even be entirely sure he's really who he says he is. Then he meets Sherlock Holmes. A brilliant detective who when he looks at you can read your entire life story. John is immediately fascinated and afraid, half-wondering if maybe Sherlock can see the other personalities in him and half terrified of the thought of him finding out. Becoming his flatmate seems at once to be a wonderful and horrible idea. Yet as John's Blackouts become more and more severe and his other personalities begin to truly awaken and show themselves with Sherlock's help, the two soon discover that sometimes even the kindest person can harbour a demon best left untouched inside of them. Because not all of John's other personalities play nicely and some may be hiding secrets best left undisturbed...

MARKED FOR LATER

Hand Me the Salt, Love? by topsyturvy_turtely (G, 554 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Pet Names, Flustered Sherlock, Cooking, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Fluff Without Plot) – John is cooking. Sherlock is not helping. Until...

Locked Room by Calais_Reno (T, 8,346 w., 2 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting AU || Pool Scene, Mystery, Near Death Experience, Drug Addiction, Serious Injuries, Temporary Amnesia, POV Alternating, Love Confessions, Happy Ending) – John wakes up in a locked room, unable to remember how he got here. The last thing he remembers is his hands covered in blood, trying to keep a soldier from dying. His roommate also seems to be suffering from amnesia, and has decided that John is a delusion. Part 33 of Just Johnlock

Walk of Shame by 72reasons (E, 14,355+ w., 9/? Ch. || WiP || Alternate First Meeting AU || Meet-Ugly, Bisexual John, Gay Sherlock, Alternating POV, Sad John, Suicidal Thoughts, Casual Sex, Strangers to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Threesome, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex) – John is just back from the war and wanders the city wondering what he’s going to do. One of his distractions is having casual sex with a beautiful, but annoying, woman. Sherlock usually refrains from sex, but in trying to stay sober he indulges in it now and again. Sherlock meets John on the street and sparks fly. Casual sex is one thing, but what about something more?

[callsign-joyride]

No More Mr. Nice Guy | Tom "Iceman" Kazansky

Summary: After an encounter with a weird Top Gun instructor, Iceman defends you.

Pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x f!reader (callsign: Wasp)

Content warnings: Drinking, getting drunk, a weird/creepy guy, attempted sexual assault

A/N: This is very loosely based on personal experiences. (I've had this idea since things happened.) If you know, you know. The person who Dart is based on may or may not be reading this. If he is, I have a message. Hi, sweetie. I just want to know why you thought it would be a good idea to tell the 19-year-old who writes Top Gun fanfiction about your morally, ethically, and legally questionable actions that are supposedly not true. You can't run from all of your problems. - Your "best girl". (I needed to be petty for a minute.)

Word count: 1.5k

You loved being a Top Gun pilot, you really did. Even though you were the only woman in your class, everyone treated you with the same respect. Well, almost everyone. You were walking to lunch with Ice and Slider when Slider had decided to ask you what you thought about Dart, one of the new instructors.

“I don’t know, something about him just gives me a weird vibe. Like, I get it, we’re two weeks into this, but he’s asked me to go out with him for drinks. Just the two of us. It really puts me off sometimes but then I wonder if he’s just lonely,” you said. Ice glanced at you and clenched his jaw.

“He shouldn’t be talking to you like that,” he said.

“Yeah, but we’re both adults. I don’t really think it matters.”

“It’s clearly bothering you, though.”

“A few weird comments here and there isn’t a big deal. I really don’t want to be having this discussion right now, okay?”

Everyone sat together at lunch and the conversations had been going well. All of you had to be back in the classroom by one, so that didn’t leave much time for leisure. Dart walked in and started giving his piece. You always sat in the front, but it started to feel weird once you realized that he would start checking you out any time he stood in front of you to lecture. That wasn’t something that you wanted to tell anyone about. Ice would believe you, but there wouldn’t really be anything to back it up. And as soon as it got to Viper, he probably wouldn’t have believed you, or cared enough to do anything about it. So you sat there, unable to move because you would’ve had to ask him before you could switch seats. 

The class had been dismissed and almost everyone had left the room when he asked if he could talk to you. Usually, having to talk to instructors usually meant going over training exercises and evaluations. That wasn’t the case this time.

“I was wondering if we could get something to eat later. You know, with the three-day weekend coming up, it would be nice if we could have some one-on-one time.”

That set you off.

“How many times am I going to have to tell you no before you actually lay off and leave me alone? This isn’t an appropriate relationship and I’m not a fan of you constantly asking me if we can hang out, just us, because you think that it would be nice if we had time alone. If you’re going to keep me after class just to ask me out, the answer is, and always will be, no.”

“It’s not a date, I’m just trying to be nice.”

“Well you’re being weird. I’ve noticed you stopping in front of me during lectures just so you can get a look at my boobs. No normal person does that.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“Whatever.”

You walked out of the classroom and shut the door behind you. Ice had been waiting outside of the classroom for some time. He had been waiting on you but you didn’t really think anything of it.

“I hate him, Tom. I don’t want to talk about what just happened but I hate him.”

Ice nodded his head and the two of you walked back to the barracks. You walked in silence, but you were mostly just thinking of what you were going to do if Dart kept on bothering you. You could only hope that rejecting him would be enough for him to keep things strictly professional, but even that was a high standard considering who he was. Ice hadn’t told anyone of what had happened, or what he thought had happened, but it was kind of a surprise for Goose to be knocking on your door at 9 PM asking if you wanted to go to the Officer’s Club with the rest of the group. You had figured that this was something that you needed, so of course you said yes and quickly changed your clothes before grabbing your keys and wallet.

It felt like a normal night. After a few drinks, you were starting to feel tipsy. You normally had a bit more control over your alcohol consumption, but the events of earlier had taken up a space in your mind and you needed to let go, even if it was just for a night.

“I’m going outside,” you told Goose. He nodded his head and covered your drink as you walked out. 

“Hey, Wasp,” you heard. Dart had been right behind you, and you were startled by his presence. You had so much to drink that even though he had at most a few inches on you, it felt like he was towering over you. Panic started to set in as he pushed you against the nearby railing and started trying to kiss you.

“I think I figured out why there’s so much tension between us,” he said. You kept on trying to tell him to stop as he continued to kiss you and put his hands on you.

“It’s because you have a little school girl crush on me and you’re too afraid to admit it.”

“No, no. Stop. I don’t like this, it’s not right.”

“Isn’t that what you want, though? I gotta hand it to ya, Wasp, I never really pegged you to be the type to be into this forbidden romance kinda stuff.”

He was pulled off of you and it was like you could breath again, for the most part. You looked up and Tom had him by the collar. It didn’t really seem like he was going to let go. Going back inside would’ve stressed you out more, so you stood behind Tom for some form of protection from this creep.

“Hey, buddy. What’s this about, huh?” He asked.

“You don’t see it? Wasp here has been doting over me since the minute she walked into my class and I’m just trying to ease the tension.”

“What tension? She fucking hates you. And from what I heard, you’re the one making these advances on her. If she said no to your date, what would’ve made her say yes to making out with you? Just curious. I could beat the shit out of you right now but I really don’t want to lose my job, so I’m gonna let you walk away. But you’re not gonna talk to her like that or look at her like that again. And if you don’t want to listen to me and I find out that you’re still doing this shit, I’m taking it to Viper.”

Tom let him go and he scurried off. By the time he turned around to face you, most of the group had been watching things go down. 

“Are you- actually, do you want to talk about this at my car?”

You nodded your head and Tom walked you to his car. There wasn’t any pressure to do anything except stand outside and talk, but you felt safer having this conversation inside of the car. As you told him everything that Dart had done, you could see the rage in his eyes.

“I’m talking to Viper about this first thing in the morning. I don’t give a fuck if I have to drive to his house, I’ll do it.”

“You really don’t have to. I think threatening him like that was more than enough.”

“Wasp, there’s no reason that he treated you like that. He tried to make moves on you while you were drunk. I have to take this to Viper because I don’t know if he’s done this to others, and I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

There wasn’t anything that you could do that would stop Ice or the rest of the group from taking the situation to Viper. What was meant to be a relaxing three-day weekend turned into a very stressful one, because you didn’t know if Viper was going to do anything about what had happened. You knew that something was up when class got cancelled and the long weekend got extended for the extra day.

“I really don’t want to go in there. I don’t know if Viper has made a decision yet,” you said as you walked to the classroom with Ice and Slider.

“You can sit with me. I usually sit in the middle, anyways,” Ice said. No one asked any questions as you took a seat in between Ice and Slider, but everyone was surprised when Viper walked in alone.

“I’ll be stepping in as a temporary instructor. Because of recent events, I made the decision to fire Dart. I also want to remind everyone that fraternization between instructors and students will result in immediate termination of the instigator.”

You had to hide the smile that made its way onto your face. Under the table, Tom squeezed your hand.

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