#need to work on the guest list and stuff

[sweetmorn]

i have less than a year now to finish wedding planning and i'm stressed and not at the same time. venue, food, and cake have kind of fallen into place (perks of working at a bakery owned by a nice restaurant with a rooftop venue). my mom texted me the other day that she got us a photographer for cheap. so what's left

[cryptidghostgirl]

Make You Wish Chapter Two -- Where Is She

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: really super mild versions of cannon violence.

Word count: 2,072

Previous Part: Make You Wish Chapter One -- Seven Years

Master list link:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Make You Wish Master List

A/N I accidentally posted this before I was ready tooo ahhhh!!! it's fine. Everything was already written I just had to format it properly and stuff.

Alastor had been at the Hazbin Hotel for only a few days and was already enjoying his time there greatly. It was an entertaining place, to say the least, and now that he had his feet under him, he was intent on making it even more so.

Charlie was pacing around the sitting room, stressed beyond belief. She had gone to speak to Adam the previous day to try and get his support for her plan, only to wind up with the news that the next extermination was coming in six moths, rather than the usual twelve. Alastor watched her duress in amusement as he sauntered into the hotel lobby, side stepping Angel, Charlie, and Vaggie to take a seat at the bar.

"It's nothing we can't handle," Charlie was explaining, trying to convince herself as much as anyone else in the room, "just angels cutting our timetable in half. But who needs a whole year to save souls? Am I right? And next time, when they cut the time in half again and again, we'll just handle it, right?!"

Vaggie got to her feet, grabbing her girlfriend by the shoulders and stopping her from her relentless pacing.

"Yes, we will." she confirmed.

"Oh please," Angel cut in from the couch, his eyes fixed on his phone, "ya had less than half a chance when you started all this salvation bullshit. And now...? Ain' no silver lining this time, toots."

"Sure there is." Charlie turned to him, "We just have to look a little harder for it."

"Well, while you're lookin', the rest of Hell is going nuts."

Angel turned his phone to Charlie, showing all the news headlines of terror he'd pulled up.

"People are already freaking out about the news. Look at what's happening in the Doomsday District."

He scrolled down to a video of a burning town just as a text notification popped up.

"Uh, what is a 'donkey show'?" Charlie asked in confusion, having read the text.

"Ah, heh, nothing." Angel pulled the phone from her line of sigh, trying to come up with a quick lie, "My boss, Val, is just freaked out about the news too. Like I said, everyone's losing their shit."

"Yeah, that is true." Vaggie hummed thoughtfully, a hand to her chin, "Sinners are desperate. Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape extermination?"

"Speaking of sinners," Alastor said, drawing the attention in the room to him as he turned towards Husk who was busying cleaning glasses, "I think it's time I look up my old partner in crime."

"And what do I have to do with that?" the cat demon gruffly replied, not sparing Alastor a glance.

"Your partner in crime?" Charlie asked, taking a step towards the bar, "I always thought you... you know, worked alone?"

Alastor's grin widened.

"Oh never you mind, dear." he replied, throwing her a glance over his shoulder, "Just a lost soul I'm acquainted with is all."

"Yeah. You've been trying to get her to sell you that soul for what, the past seventy years is it now?" Husk scoffed.

Alastor's eye twitched slightly at the implication of his failure.

"If I wanted it, I would have it." he hummed threateningly, and Husk backed down.

"That's great!" Charlie exclaimed, "So she's a friend of yours? Do you think she'd help with the hotel? Oh! Or maybe that she'd want to be a guest?!"

"Charlie-" Vaggie began but Alastor quickly cut her off.

"I don't see a harm in asking." he cheerily replied.

"And you know her, Husk?" Charlie asked.

He looked up as he placed a clean glass on the shelf, shooting Alastor a glance before nodding.

"Do you think she'd be a good fit?"

He sighed, crossing his arms as Husk turned to face Charlie fully.

"She's a sweetheart, I think you'd get along well." he admitted, "But she's trouble, just like him."

Husk gestured towards Alastor and Charlie's smile widened.

"Well, with all Alastor has done for us so far, I think we could probably use more trouble like him."

"Oh you flatter me." Alastor waved her off, looking away in a false show of humility.

"No really." Charlie insisted, "You-"

"Show yourself, Alastor!" a dramatic call cut Charlie off mid thought.

----

"Um. Alastor?" Charlie hesitantly began, peeking out from behind his shoulder as she watched the havoc he was wreaking on the snake shaped sinner, "I think he's had enough."

Alastor cackled joyfully, not even watching as his shadows destroyed the air ship.

"Nah, he's got a few more hits in 'im." Angle disagreed, enjoying the show immensly.

The shadows tilted the ship forward, dropping Sir Pentious out through the broken windshield. He hit the ground with a thud, right before Alastor's feet. Stopping in his fit of laughter, he looked down at the man, spinning his microphone like a baton.

"Thanks for another forgettable experience." he teased as one of the egg creatures fell from the ship, splattering on the ground beside Charlie who took a step away.

"Thank... you..." Sir Pentious began, his voice pained as he raised his head slowly, "for letting your guard down!"

Almost before Alastor could register what was happening, the snake had grabbed onto his coat with his tail and torn a piece from its hem. Alastor took a menacing step forward, his eyes narrowed.

"Oh shit." Pentious' triumphant laughter died out.

Slowly, Alastor sprouted a pair of shadowy horns. With a snap of his finger, the ground under the snake detonated, throwing him up into the air and far away from the hotel with a scream. He watched as Pentious flew away, retracting his horns and standing with a hand behind his back. Once the snake was out of sight, he at last turned to Charlie and Angel, as well as Husk and Vaggie who had come out to join them.

"Well, it looks as thought I need a visit to the tailor." he hummed, "Husk?"

"Yeah?" Husk grunted.

"Where did you say she was again?"

"I didn't."

Husk crossed his arms defensively and Alastor took a step towards him, his smile a little smaller than normal. There was an odd air between the two of them, a tension every one present could feel biting into their skins.

"Whats that?" Alastor asked lowly, his head cocked slightly to the side.

Husk sighed.

"Last I heard she was working for some imp in Pentagram City." Husk reluctantly admitted, looking away, "As an assassin or something, I don't know the details."

"An imp, you say." Alastor thoughtfully replied, his expression unreadable.

"Look, Alastor." Husk turned back to his master, "Don't fuck this up for her. She seemed pretty happy last time I saw her. You disappearing like that wrecked the poor girl."

"Just means she'll be all the more happy to see me."

Alastor turned, beginning to walk away. At the sound of Husk speaking again, he paused, keeping his back to the quartet.

"Alastor, ju-"

Alastor turned his head, shooting Husk a critical look over his shoulder. It shut the cat demon up almost immedeatly.

"Best of luck, chums!"

"Wait, you're leaving?" Vaggie exclaimed, taking a step forward.

Irritation prickling beneath his skin, Alastor turned back to them once again. It had been seven years, he didn't know how much longer he could wait. Sure, he'd had time in Hell on his own, nearly twenty years of it. He didn't need her per-say, she just made things more interesting, more enjoyable. It just felt odd for them to be parted.

Sure, when they had first met, he had thought she was just an easy steal of a soul. Young, naive, frankly undeserving in his opinion of eternal damnation. But smart, smarter than she looked. Y/n had refused any and all deals with the man and so, he had taken it as a challenge. What had begun as a game: Alastor trying to gain ownership of Y/n's soul ended up as an after-life long friendship.

Alastor would never admit it to anyone but, in his absence, he had even missed Y/n the smallest bit. She kept things interesting, he told himself, that was all. Always causing discreet mischief, always quick with a joke. A true pleasure to have on the show, as he always used to say.

"Alastor, we need your help. We need you to do your job." Vaggie continued.

"We need a wall." Angel finished for her, gesturing to the portion of the hotel Sir Pentious had destroyed in his attack.

"Of course." Alastor replied, keeping an irritated remark at bay, "Can't let my new project fall into disrepair already. What would the papers say?"

With a snap of his fingers, minions made of shadows pulled themselves from the ground at his feet. So as not to give anyone another chance to stall him further, he quickly turned on his heel and walked off.

Alastor was a man of image, he kept his pace slow and firm. Couldn't have any of them getting any ideas in their heads about the nature of his relationship with Y/n. That had always been trouble in the old days. The minute people saw the pair together, they started assuming things. He had already decided he was going to be more careful about that this time around and this was the first step.

There was a slight bounce in his step as he headed into the city's center, an odd anticipation fluttering in his chest. Alastor pushed it to the side. It was simply the thrill of being back in his old stomping ground that was to blame. It didn't matter he'd already been back a few days and it should have worn off by now, he should just feel lucky to still be so entertained by this place he'd known longer than he'd even been alive. Right?

----

Y/n was sitting at Blitzo's desk, reading through paperwork he had neglected to fill out or file correctly. It wasn't like any one in Hell really payed their taxes, but the mess still stressed her out. She let out a sigh, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her eyes in irritation. She had never had to do this type of work before, not since she'd been alive anyways. How the times had changed.

Noise of Blitzo and Moxxie fighting filtered in through the closed door. It wasn't anything special, anything new. The pair were always at one another's throats, she wasn't worried. What would be worrying, was if things were quiet. This was just the way life sounded now: inelegant and brazen. Nothing like it used to.

The buzzing of her phone on the desk beside her pulled Y/n from her reveries and she picked it up. The collar lay heavy around her neck as she read the message. Y/n had made some bad choices along the way, figuring out how to be on her own. She wasn't pleased with them, but it was what she had had to do. Back then, she hadn't had the need to fight for herself in over sixty years. It was the only thing she could think to do.

She double tapped the text, marking it with a thumbs up before shutting her phone off and leaning her head down on the table. There was no point in wishing for things to be different than they were but, it was just that time of year and the text had pushed her over the edge. A few stray tears trickled out of her eyes.

"Goddamnit, Al." she sighed into the empty room, "Where the hell are you."

Silence pressed its hands against her ears, blurring her perception of the world around her. Y/n had a few seconds, a few nearly peaceful moments before, again, her thoughts were interrupted. This time, not by her phone but by Blitzo calling for her from the other room.

"Y/n!" he yelled and she lifted her head off the table.

"Yeah?" she called back through the closed door.

"Get your ass out here!"

"Why? A client? Can't you handle it?"

"Y/n!" he insisted again, a sense of urgency to his voice.

If this was anything less than an absolute emergency, he was never going to hear the end of it. She was not in the mood for his games today.

"Fine." she groaned and pulled herself from the chair, "I'm coming."

----

Next Part -> Chapter Three -- A Reunion

[mikodrawnnarratives]

*cracks knuckles* @paper-lilypie

WEDDING BELLS YALL

and brainrot. I've been sketching these ideas out for like, a year. And done nothing with them until this point

this has been festering. in my mind.

*note: I didn't get around to drawing it, but I imagine Sun, Moon, and Y/n say their vows at the Bell place thingie that I need to reread in the fic. Y'know, the place Moon climbs up to, to get away from y/n. Yeh they declare their love up there and smoochies*

I should really reread that bit actually lol

Before moving forward, I'm gonna rant about outfits

this is the outfit that I base Sun and Moon's wedding look on because I just think it fits so well. I share this so you guys see the vision and forgive my inexperience with drawing these folds

Cool? cool.

Also, I went through several variations of what Y/n would wear before settling on this bc nothing that came up when I searched "gender neutral wedding gear" really fit

Wanted a mix between gown and suit and y'know this ended up being more suit but I like it a lot so we're going with that. It also came to me in a vision so that has to say something.

(Ok but I did envision Y/n having a dress similar to this one character's dress in Bad Guys but I couldn't draw it so I scrapped it)

(ok some details stayed but most of the concept had to go)

so like- you see it right?

Btw. All of them (including guests) have pockets. just. to ease your mind.

ok back to actually drawn wedding shenanigans

Because, there are many, wedding shenanigans

Y'know the trend of smashing wedding cake into the bride/groom/wedded partner's face right?

There's no way this wouldn't escalate and y/n wouldn't enlist their siblings in the chaos.

They'll get like- one or two good wedding pics before this.

the cake tasted good tho

Let me just say. I am so proud of how I did these hands I'm oogling my own art I did so good GHGHHHHHHFDS

I like??? Want to do more?????

cuties shenanigans below they are obnoxious and they know it

By the way by the way you may notice the flower dress

I WILL be getting around to Lily x DCA STUFF I WILL

Tho I got busy and had a really hard time drawing/finishing sketches when I did have time so. I chose to post what I have so far so it's out before November ends

CONSIDER THIS A PART 1

LILY YOU ARE NOT SAFE

well Ig u are safe

for nowwwww

Bouquet toss real

fun fact I initially wanted to draw Sun, Moon, and Copper y/n tossing the bouquet together

but their arm lengths would NOT make that work kjfdkljsdklj

so y/n tosses the bouquet bc they are the specialest

(Or they won the round of monopoly)

(who's to say)

(we don't talk about game night)

But all three of them are the criminal. masterminds. They planned this from the start. Holly and Chica HAD NO CHANCE after the role they played in getting Y/N AND SUN AND MOON together.

I think this video would also be something cute that I could see happening for their wedding lol

Y/n and the daycare attendants hand the bouquet to Holly and then she gets proposed to by Chica

Anyway I still have a whole list of wedding shenanigans I need to draw

Sarah and Yao being some because when I tried before I couldn't sketch them out to my liking.

And the more CCRT gets expanded on, the more I'm sure will be present in their wedding since there are only 3 chapters out so far and enough art for me to make my guesses dlkkldsf

I'm sure there are plenty of fun things that can be included into this wedding, or edited, once more is revealed of the characters and their relationships

and who would be wedding guests is a little more up in the air, for instance and... who'd be able to show up in the first place considering unknown state of... living

(*cough cough*-Glamrock Foxy-*cough cough*)

...and being on good terms! thats.. important too. y'know moon and foxy weren't really exes but it may still be a bit awkward if he got invited y'know yknow

[boldlyvoid]

Employee of the Month

eddie munson x reader

Summary: To make some extra cash before Christmas, Y/N takes a job stocking the grocery store shelves at midnight, unbeknownst to her that her high school crush also works there

Warnings: mutual pining, partial slow burn, parental death, mentions of Eddie's murder charges (now dropped), being ostracized by the town, teasing, flirting, sick Eddie, hurt/comfort, falling in love, first kiss, first times, virgin Eddie, virgin reader, making out, grinding, dry humping, cumming in pants. they're really horny touch starved adults

word count: 9k

In a last-ditch effort to make some more money this Christmas, she takes a job at the local grocery store to stock the shelves at midnight. It’s not too bad, there are only 16 shelves and about 30 feet of freezer to restock, she gets to bring a walkman and headphones and wear whatever she wants. As long as the shelves look nice come morning, the boss didn’t really care. 

From the first night she worked there she knew it was going to be a good fit, mainly because the other stock person she’s been partnered with is the same guy she had a massive crush on in high school. Eddie Munson had one hell of a year while she was trying to graduate, he was getting accused of murdering her classmates. He disappeared mostly after that, the school gave him a pass and his diploma so they didn’t have to see him again, the town pretended they didn’t try and murder him in revenge for an entire week and she didn’t see him again for a while. 

“Hey,” she waves at him with her lips pressed together in a tight smile, “I’m—

“Y/N,” he points at her name tag with a matching smile. “I take it you’re my new buddy?” 

She nods, “yeah… um, what are we doing tonight?” 

“The snacks and chips aisle, the milk fridge and the cheeses,” he recites the list as he pulls it out of his pocket and hands it to her. 

While she is just in jeans and a sweater, nothing too fancy, he’s in a navy blue jumpsuit with his name embroidered on the left breast, and just under it, the grocery store logo. He was in uniform… “why don’t I have to wear one of those?” 

“Oh, I got this for being the employee of the month,” he shrugs it off, not meaning to brag in the slightest. “You like it?” 

“Yeah,” she smiles like a fool, nodding quickly and looking at the list he handed her to avoid his eye contact. 

She liked him so much in high school, and he was still so cute, it was all coming back to her. He’s much more laid back and reserved now, it has been over a year since she’s seen him in person, too. It made her wonder if he was still that same loud, opinionated nerd that she admired from a distance. 

He’s super nice about teaching her the right way to restock everything, bringing the old stuff to the front and the new things get pushed to the back of each shelf. They split up the aisles and met in the middle, trying to beat each other each time. He sang along to the radio playing over the speakers, and he danced when he thought she wasn’t looking… he was just as cute as he was in high school. 

They end up making a good team, they finish their list and pick up a few extra chores. They change a lightbulb in the guest bathroom, take inventory of the magazines and run disinfectant over every surface they could until their shift ends. It feels like it takes forever, they’re awkward when talking to each other but it’s kinda easy to hang out with him. This was going to be a good job for her. 

“You need a ride home?” He asks in the staff room after work, both of them putting on their coats and scarves. The November chill in Hawkins was not nice. 

She shakes her head and starts to point, “no, I just live—

“You can’t walk home in the middle of the night,” he cuts her off. “There’s too many creeps and animals out there. I don’t mind where it is?” 

“Okay,” she gives in easily. 

She gives him her address as they walk out to his van, he opens the door for her and lets her hop in before closing it for her too. He asks her about how long she’s lived there, trying his best to make conversation but it hurts. 

“Uh, we’ve always lived in Hawkins, my house is still a mess from the earthquake but the insurance is fixing it soon,” she assures, nervous for him to see the state of the place when he pulls up. “If my dad was still here he’d probably have it done by now, but it’s just me and my mom.” 

“God, I’m sorry,” he felt so bad for asking. “That was the worst fucking week ever.” 

“yeah… it sucked for everyone,” she doesn’t even know how to touch upon what he went through. “Glad it’s over.” 

“More than you know,” he sighs, turning onto her road finally. 

He doesn’t want to come in for coffee or anything, he gives her a smile and a wave and watches to make sure she gets inside her house safely before driving away. 

She thinks about him well into the morning when she should be sleeping. It’s easy to get sucked into an imaginary life where he asks her out after a shift and they hang out and fall in love and she finally gets to kiss that smile off his beautiful face… it’s not easy to make it come true. She would go to her grave with the fact she thinks he’s handsome and nice and funny and cute. She’s not big on sharing feelings, having no one to ever really share them with, in the first place. 

—

She doesn’t see him unless she’s working, which was only 3 nights a week, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. 

She uses those 3 nights wisely. She wears something nice but not too suspicious, and she always smells nice and does the best she can with her hair and makeup… she wants him to think she’s pretty. She wants to catch him staring at her instead of how many times he caught her looking at him as a teenager. 

He tells her that she looks nice every day in many different ways. 

“Did you come straight from the ball, princess?” 

“You know this is a grocery store, not a fashion show, right?” 

And her personal favourite… “It's too cold out there for you to come in looking so hot.” With a wink. A fucking wink. It almost made her pass out. 

He does it just to bug her, he likes to make her squirm and lose every thought in her head. He laughs when she stutters through a response and he always pats her shoulder gently and says, “I just mean you look nice today.” 

She has a hard time reaching the top shelves sometimes and he has no problem coming over and standing real close to her. “Here, I got that,” he says in such a low voice it felt like a whisper. He reaches up and takes everything down for her, “do you want me to put them up for you too?” 

“Sure,” she doesn’t mind, she works on the second highest shelf instead, still close to him, she watches him reach and extend his long arms and puff out his chest and ugh he’s so hot it makes her stare like an idiot. 

“You’re drooling,” he teases her. 

She wipes her face quickly, “what? No, shut up.” 

He just giggles and finishes shoving the new stock toward the back of the shelf. She bumps shoulders with him right before he heads back to his stack of things, he had boxes of croutons to unpack. She was now moving on to salad dressings and other condiments. 

She doesn’t dare start up any conversations, overthinking everything that comes into her head too much. She didn’t feel like he’d find anything she had to say interesting. 

They’re in the soup aisle when he finally speaks again. “Can I ask you something?”

She’s a bit shocked cause he’s been silent for so long, but she nods. 

“When you dream is there ever a specific topic you dream about the most?” 

“Tornados,” she can answer without batting an eye. “I had one the other night actually… I don’t know why but there’s always a tornado.” 

“That is an interesting one… did you just watch a lot of the wizard of oz growing up?” He teases. 

She can’t help but smile, “no, I’ve actually never watched it.” 

“You get more interesting every time you talk,” he means it as a compliment. 

“Yeah? Well, why’d you even ask about dreams? Do you have a good one?”  She turns the conversation back to him, taking a handful of soups and shoving them into the shelf. 

“I keep having dreams in high school where I’m failing again and none of the teachers will pass me,” he explains. “And I had one last night cause I guess seeing you again so much is reminding me of being back in school.” 

“Wait,” she turns to him full of shock and awe, “you remember me?” 

“Of course,” he doesn't see it as a big deal. “Your lunch table was beside ours, I saw you every day?” 

He saw me looking at him often… 

She wants to turn inside out with embarrassment. “Oh, I uh, I didn’t think you paid attention to that.” 

“How could I not? You always reacted the best when I did something stupid,” he reminisces, stepping in closer to her. “And I remember your laugh was cute.” 

She’s too nervous to even giggle awkwardly, he’s in her personal space and he smells good and his eyes are so inviting, “thanks…” all the air in her chest leaves as she melts in front of him. 

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t do all that shit just for your attention,” he admits, licking his lips as he stares at hers. 

It’s like time stops, her brain can’t process all the information so she just blinks a few times and stares back at him with a furrowed brow. “Really?” 

He nods with a laugh, pulling away and returning to the stack of boxes they had to put away. “Yeah, I uh, I should probably feel a little stupid telling you this now after all this time, but uh, you bring the stupid out of me… I kinda had a huge crush on you back then.” 

“Me?” 

“Yeah, you,” he teases. “You act like thats a total surprise? You’re so pretty and you were never mean to me, it was bound to happen.” 

She’s completely dumbfounded, “oh… that’s— I’m nice to everyone? At least I try to be.” 

But then she realizes what he really said, he used to have a crush on her, but that’s long gone. He wouldn’t tell her if he still had one, would he? Guys weren’t that open about feelings, it was always a game with them… right? 

“Sorry,” he realizes he fucked up by telling her. “I didn’t want to make things awkward between us.”

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s just weird for me. I’ve never been told straight up that someone had a crush on me,” she’s really taken aback. “Thanks… really.” 

“Anytime,” he blushes slightly, dropping it there.

He drives her home again like he does every night that she works cause he really can’t stand the idea of her walking home past midnight as the temperature drops. He has tried to offer to pick her up beforehand, but she doesn’t want to put him out, and her mom doesn’t mind dropping her off every night… but he asks again, anyway. 

Parked outside of her house, he turns to her. “Can I please come pick you up before your next shift?” He all but begs. 

“I guess,” she gives in, “why?” 

He shrugs, “I like spending time with you.” 

“Then why don’t you ever want to come in for a coffee?” She combats, really wanting him to come in. “I also have tea and hot chocolate…” 

“Okay,” he gives in right back. “I’ll come in with you, tonight.” 

“Really?” She lights right up and throws off her seatbelt, reaching for the door. 

“Wait, wait, wait!” He panics, rushing out first and coming around to her side to open it up for her, “you’re gonna make me look bad, walking you to the front door and not getting the door for you is a crime.” 

“If you say so,” she laughs at him as she hops out beside him. 

He slams her door closed and with a hand on her back, he leads her toward the front door. “You sure you’re mom's okay with me being in her house?” 

“Yeah, why not?” She honestly forgets. 

“Well, I’m me?” He awkwardly laughs, feeling incredibly nervous about his reputation. “It’s honestly why I’ve not said yes yet, I don’t know who hates me still…” 

“Oh god, no, she doesn’t hate you, she doesn’t hate anyone,” she puts up both hands in a sort of surrender that made him smile. She meant it. “She’s also asleep so you won’t have to talk to her at all.” 

“Okay,” he assures her, rubbing his hand over her shoulder with a smile. 

Every time he looks at her like that she wants to melt right into him, to swim around in the chocolate pools of his eyes for hours on end. He’s so beautiful, she’s never going to get over it. 

He leans in closer, looking at her through his lashes, “Are we going inside soon, it’s cold out here?” 

“Sure, yeah,” she remembers what they were doing, digging her keys out of her pocket. She unlocks the door and pushes it open, slipping in first and letting him follow. 

Inside he kicks off his shoes and hangs up his jacket beside hers before following her all the way into the kitchen. He’s as quiet as a mouse, respecting that her mom is asleep somewhere in the house. 

“So what’ll it be?” She asks, opening up the fridge to take a look while he sits down at the kitchen counter. 

“Oh, I’m good, I just wanted to come in with you,” he admits but by the look on her face, she doesn’t believe him. “Seriously, I’m just going to go home and sleep anyway, it’s fine.” 

“You’ve gotta have something… come on?” She stares him down, “Pepsi? Ginger ale? Water? What about a snack?” 

“I’m fine,” he means it. “What do you normally have when you come home?” 

“It’s always different, sometimes my mom makes something for us for dinner and other nights I just have like a pop tart,” she shares, opening the cupboard and taking out a box. 

“I could actually go for a pop tart,” he admits, eyes up the box in her hands. 

She laughs and opens up one of the silver, crinkly packets and hands him one. He takes a big bite and dramatically throws his head back with a groan, “fuck, I forgot how good these are.”

“And you would’ve kept forgetting if you didn’t come in with me, so I guess you have to from now on,” she teases, feeling a lot more confident with him suddenly… she felt like things could be fun between them. If he wasn’t going to fall in love with her, she might as well try for being his best friend. 

“You’re too cute to say no to,” he can’t help but smile at her. 

“Again, you’re the only one to think so,” she rolls her eyes, not believing him. He was just a flirt, it wasn’t the truth… right?

“More for me, then,” he shrugs, taking another bite from his pop tart and dropping it there. 

—

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride?” Her mom asks from the kitchen. 

“I’m fine,” she calls back, staring out the front window, watching the street for Eddie’s van. “My co-worker offered to pick me up.” 

“Oh, which one?” 

“Um, Eddie…” she turns around slowly to see her mom standing in the doorway now. “Eddie Munson.” 

“Oh,” she is a little shocked to hear that name after so long. “I didn’t know he was still in Hawkins?” 

“He works nights so no one has to see him,” she explains, “cause people are mean… he was really scared to come in last night after work cause he didn’t want to upset you by coming into your house.” 

“Poor boy,” she feels so bad, never wanting her home to strike fear in someone. “I knew you wouldn’t have a crush on a monster, and the police cleared him, this town owes him an apology too.” 

“I know,” she agrees but she doubts it’ll ever happen. 

Sometime during their chat, Eddie pulled up outside and made his way to her front door where he laid a few knocks. She opens the door with a huge smile, “hi, sorry you didn’t have to come all the way to the door.” 

“I wanted to,” he assures her, seeing her mom peeking over her shoulder. “Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N.” 

“Hello,” she gives him a little wave. “Have fun at work you two, I’ll see you, tomorrow sweetheart.” 

“Bye mom,” she slips outside with Eddie, knowing her mom was going to watch them walk back to his van. 

He extends his hand and holds hers as they walk down the few steps of her porch, he drops her hand only to place it on her back as he leads her toward the passenger door. He opens for her, like always. He runs around the van, sends a wave to her mom at the door and then hops inside, “ready?” 

“Ready,” she can’t bite back her smile anymore, she was so giddy about holding his hand that it made her feel like a little girl again. 

He pauses for a moment and looks her up and down, “did you get all dolled up 'cause I’m driving you?” 

She tilts her head to the side, annoyed cause he always asks, “I always look like this.” 

“Beautiful, you mean?” 

She walked right into that one. 

“Fine, I’ll let you have it this time,” she gives in. 

“Good,” he throws the van in drive and heads out of her little neighbourhood towards town. 

He’s quiet for a bit, she looks around at the street lights and the businesses still open, as well as all the houses with their Christmas lights up already. “I miss it was still kinda sunny out at 8pm,” she sighs, staring out the window at the full moon rising over Hawkins. 

“I like the dark,” he shares. “Less people are out.” 

“Why don’t you move? Not that I want you to leave, but wouldn’t it be more freeing to have no one know who you are? You deserve a real life,” she lets her feelings fall right out. “You’re not a bad person, you never have been.” 

“Thanks,” he reaches out his hand and rests it on her thigh. “But it’s ‘cause everyone I love is here, I can’t leave.” 

“Right, so are you still in your band then?” 

He lets out a very surprised chuckle, “yeah, I still have my band, we still play Tuesday nights, it's the only night I don’t work.” 

She wouldn’t know that cause she didn’t work that night either, “I’ll have to come see you play sometime, I don’t have any classes that night.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know you were in school still?” 

“Community college,” she doesn’t feel so ashamed telling him. “Most my friends went off to real schools but it’s the only place I could go to for free, so.” 

“Hey, at least you got in,” he celebrates the bare minimum. “I couldn’t even dream of it with my GPA. I was thinking I’d wait a few years and get some kind of degree when I’m considered a mature student, and when people forget about me.” 

She wants to tell him that she’ll never forget about him, she never did. She thought about him all the time. She couldn’t hear Metallica on the radio without thinking about him. Every jean jacket patch made her think about him. She took a double take when she saw a man with long hair hoping it was him. She thought about him before she went to bed, in her dreams and as soon as her eyes opened in the morning. 

She was completely in love with him. 

—

She was only going to work for the holidays, and now that Christmas was only a few days away, she was worried that she only has a few more weeks left with Eddie. And for some reason that makes her want to get him a Christmas present, almost as a way to buy a place in his heart so he doesn’t forget about her when she’s not his buddy anymore. 

And then he doesn’t show up for work… she’s been waiting to see him all week, and he’s a no-show.

So she asks her shift manager who says Eddie called out earlier in the day really, really sick. It makes her heart hurt knowing he wasn’t feeling good. 

So she pushes through her shift. It’s weird without him, but she does it. She walks home for the first time and it’s a lot colder than she expected. The wind on her face and the snow in her hair, melt as the heat from her body escapes from her head. She gets home finally and she’s shivering, she wants to wrap herself up in a blanket and sleep for days, instead goes right to the kitchen. She searches through her cupboards for a couple cans of chicken noodle soup and some crackers, she grabs a few cans of ginger ale and takes her mom's keys. There’s no way she’s going back out there 

She drives right into the trailer park and follows the road slowly, scanning the driveways for eddies van until she finally finds it. She parks outside the blue and white trailer and carefully heads towards his door, not wanting to slip with a handful of cans. 

She knocks carefully, the lights are all still on so it’s not like she’s waking him up… and then another man she doesn’t know answers. “Yes?” 

“Hi, I’m so sorry but is this Eddie’s trailer?” She panics. 

“It is.” 

“I brought him some soup, I heard he was sick and that’s why he couldn’t make it to work tonight…” 

“Oh, that’s sweet, come on in out of the cold,” he ushers her right inside the tiny trailer. “Sorry for the mess, we’ve both been battling this random cold, I got it at the plant and he finally got it from me yesterday.” 

“Oh no, I’m sorry,” she sympathizes as she lays everything down on his kitchen counter. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 

“Wayne, Eddies uncle,” he introduces himself. “He’s talked a lot about you, I was wondering when I’d get to meet ya.” 

“Oh, really?” She can’t believe it. 

“yeah… you know, I can put that soup on, you can go down the hall there and see him, he’s just reading in bed, I think?” He points. 

“Oh, okay sure,” she doesn’t mind, she was honestly expecting Eddie to live alone and have an empty kitchen, not an uncle who loved him dearly there to take care of him. 

She shrugs off her coat and takes off her boots first and then she heads down the hallways carefully, she knocks on his closed door, waiting for the all-clear to enter… and his “yeah?” Comes out so sad and sickly that it makes her heart hurt. 

She pushes the door open carefully, “hey… I heard you were sick?” 

“Y/N?” He sits right up, fixing his hair and wiping his nose. “I didn’t think you knew where I lived?” 

“I just looked for the van, I think everyone knows you live in the trailer park,” she realizes how weird that sounds. 

“True, still I can’t believe you’re here?” 

She comes in and takes a seat on the edge of his bed, putting out her hand to hold the back of it to his forehead, “you’re all fevered, oh no… have you taken anything?” 

He nods, “yeah, some Buckleys…” 

“I brought you some soup, Wayne’s heating it up for you,” she explains with a soft smile. “He’s sweet.” 

“Where’d you think I got my charm from?” He teases, still well enough to try and make her smile. 

She brushes his hair off his face gently, “I’m glad you have him to take care of you.” 

“I’d much prefer you as my nurse… would you give me a sponge bath?” 

“No,” she holds back her laugh and just shakes her head with a smile. “But nice try.” 

“Damn,” he sighs, tossing his head back against the pillow and closing his eyes. Turning on the dramatics, he looks at her with the sweetest puppy dog eyes, “will you at least keep me company while I have my soup?” 

“Of course,” she planned to stay as long as he needed her. “I just have to bring my mom's car back before 8am cause she needs to go to work.” 

“I promise I won’t keep you long,” he reaches out for her hand, holding them with both of his own. “I really appreciate you coming to check on me… and might I say you look very cute today, I’m glad I didn’t miss this one.” 

She melts at his words, “you must not be too sick if you’re still trying to flirt with me.” 

“I’m going to remind you that you’re beautiful until the day I die,” he’s very stern about that. 

“Yeah, like you’ll know me that long,” she plays it off. 

He gives her hands a little squeeze, “I like to think I will… I might just be high on cough syrup, but I like to think I’ll find you in every life I lead, you’re so special to me, Y/N.” 

“You’re definitely high,” she teases, leaning in forward to kiss his forehead as she stands up. “I’m going to check on your soup… you sober up by the time I get back.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he agrees but doesn’t drop her hands, he holds on as long as he can and then she slips away from him. 

Wayne’s just putting the soup in a bowl as she walks back into the kitchen, she grabs a sleeve of soup crackers and a ginger ale, it's plated and then Wayne turns to her. 

“You know he’s not kidding, right?” 

“What?” 

“He wouldn’t lie,” Wayne gives her those honest Munson eyes that she loves so much in his nephew. “And clearly you feel the same if you’ve come all the way out here at half midnight to make him soup.” 

She feels the colour leave her face as she’s caught red-handed, she was doing this because she loved him so dearly she couldn’t stand spending a shift without seeing him. She wanted to always take care of him. She loved him. It was as simple as that. She just loves him. 

“Life’s too short to not tell each other,” he adds some last words of wisdom and hands her the tray of her lover's dinner. 

She’s extra quiet when she brings him his dinner, and when she sits on the end of his bed to accompany him while he eats. He has a book resting face down, cracked open to keep its page, resting beside him. She reaches for it, checking the cover, it’s the fellowship of the ring. 

“I’ve never read The Lord of the Rings, is it good?” 

“It’s the best book series there is,” he assures her while taking another spoonful of soup. 

She keeps her thumb where Eddie was reading but skips back to the first few pages, reading it over quietly to see if she’d like it at all… it’s cute. “You can read it from the beginning if you want?” 

“Out loud?” She wonders if he’d want to hear that too. 

“As if you could get any better,” he manages to smile no matter how sick he feels. “Please, I’d really love that.” 

“Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.”

He basks in the way her voice sounds alongside his favourite book, words he’s read so many times and heard in his own voice now being retold in hers. He listens ever so intently, enjoying it more than she’d ever know as she watches the page, trying her hardest not to stutter and to pronounce all the words right so he didn’t laugh at her… but even when she gets stuck he just affectionately corrects her and admires her as she continues. 

She makes it through the prologue and the facts about hobbits and pipeweed and the shire by the time he’s done eating. He has enough energy to take his dishes out to the kitchen himself and returns with a smile. She made her way up to the pillows beside him and slipped under the covers so he could get in beside her, “come on, I’m reading you a chapter or two and then I’ve gotta go home.” 

“Right,” he gets into the bed beside her and snuggles right up to her, he wraps himself around her arm with his cheek on her shoulder so he can watch the page as she reads on through chapter one. 

He falls asleep like that, with a warm belly full of soup and a heart full of love, it pains her to get up and possibly disrupt him. 

She does get up, slowly but surely, replacing herself with a pillow that he snuggles up to instead. She kisses him on the forehead, he’s not as fevered as before, hopefully he felt better tomorrow. She takes a look around for a scrap piece of paper, finding one on his dresser with a sharpie marker. She leaves her phone number and a little note. 

Call me tomorrow, I want to know if you’re feeling better. Hopefully we can finish this sometime. 

xx Y/N

She slips it into the book and leaves it on his night table and then she’s off. She says goodbye to Wayne who’s still awake because if he sleeps he’ll throw off his schedule when he goes back to work. He also did night shifts, so he wouldn’t be there next time she comes over after work… that’s good to know. 

—

He takes the whole weekend off and it sucks, but she understands he needs the time to get better. He calls her to let her know that decision around 2pm on Saturday and they stay on the phone all the way up until she has to get ready for work. 

Waynes gone back to work, leaving him completely alone in the trailer after they hang up the phone… and all he can think about is how she’s going to have to walk home again. It rattles around his brain most of the night, he paces the trailer, feeling like shit but his love for her is eating him alive and it hurts more than his congested nose. At 11:52 he finally says fuck it. 

In his pyjamas and all, he throws on a coat and slips his feet into his boots, he snags his keys off the wall and he’s gone. He books it out of the trailer park, watching the clock on his dash to ensure midnight doesn’t sneak up on him. The streets are empty, so he doesn’t worry about racing through the yellow lights on his way to the store. 

He pulls up with just a few minutes to spare, his heart racing, he just parks at the curb by the employee's only back door and he waits for her. He reaches over to the passenger door to roll down the window, wanting her to be able to see him… as if she wouldn’t notice that it’s his van. She knew his van. 

She knew him. 

And she liked him. 

The heavy door slowly opens and he sees her, laughing with their co-worker as she buttons up the last few buttons on her jacket. She’s bundled up in a scarf and she has a hat on today, she planned to be warmer on tonight's walk home.  

“Eddie?” She lights right up. “What are you doing here.” 

“I may be on my death bed but I’m not letting you walk home in the dark, princess,” he assures her, pushing the door open so she can get in. 

She waves goodbye to their co-worker, finishing their conversation before she hops in the van and closes the door. She rolls the window back up. “Burr, you’re you’re going to get sicker with this open.” 

“I hope you don’t find it weird that I’m here?” He worries, “seriously, after everything that happened here, walking home alone at midnight isn’t smart… it killed me that you walked home yesterday and then still came to see me.” 

“I know, it’s okay,” she reaches out to hold his gently in hers. “You can pick me up and drive me home all the time if it makes you feel better?” 

“You’ve gotta want to spend time with me too,” he places his other hand on top of hers. “Don’t feel like you have to be nice to me, little miss I’m nice to everyone.” 

“I am,” she feels offended. “I know you’re not stupid, you’ve gotta see I love spending time with you.” 

“I like to hear you say it, sue me,” he smiles, his eyes flicking back and forth between her eyes and her lips. He’s so close to her already that he could kiss her. 

But then he’d get her sick. 

So he pulls back a bit and pats her hand as her grip loosens. “Let’s get you home.” 

“Yeah,” she settles into her seat and puts on her seatbelt, he waits for the click and then he’s off, taking the familiar route back to her place. 

He asks her about her day, what they did, and how they’re doing without him. She missed him, he can tell by the way she complains about being partnered with someone new. “They didn’t do anything the way you do, it felt so wrong.” 

She thinks I do things the right way…

His heart soars the whole ride and then it ends too soon. He parks at the curb with a sigh, “I’m going to be up for a bit if you want to call me?” 

“You don’t want to come in?” 

He shakes his head, “I can’t get my germs all over your place.” 

“Right, no I get it,” she understands, but she lingers. He stares at him for a sec, “walk me to my door at least?” 

“Sure,” he can’t say no to her. 

She stays put this time, he runs around to her door and opens it, expecting her to jump right out but she pulls him close, using her height in the seat to her advantage. She touches his forehead gently, “you’re not fevered today, that’s good at least… I’d hate to miss another week with you.” 

“I’ll come get you tomorrow, but I’m not working,” he compromises, knowing he hates not getting to see her too. 

She hops out of the van and takes his hand on the way up to her door, “I could get used to this treatment.” 

“You should,” he agrees. “Cause I’m not giving up.” 

In sickness and in health and all that jazz… he’d be there through it all if she wanted him. 

At her door, she gives him those same eyes as in the van, and he wants to kiss her so goddamn bad but he can’t. He simply pulls her into a hug and holds her tight, cheek pressed to the top of her head. She holds him around the middle just as tightly, it's a beautiful goodbye for a couple of friends. 

—

He comes to pick her up for her next shift once again, only this time he pulls her into a hug at the door and kisses the top of her head, “hey, sweetheart, ready for work?” 

She can only nod against him, soaking in the hug as long as she can get. “What was that for?” She asks as he pulls back. 

He shrugs, “just cause… I missed you, I guess.” 

“I missed you, too,” she wraps her arm around his middle and holds him close as she joins him on the walk back to his van. “Which is funny 'cause we’ve been talking more than ever, lately.” 

“I know,” he loved it and it was evident in his voice. 

Every night that she’s not working they talk on the phone, from the time she’s done with her classwork until he has to leave for his night shifts. It was a lovely little tradition now, he loved to learn about all her projects and reports, and he even let her read things over for his opinion. More than once he’s called her a genius, but the best thing he’s ever said to her was “your future kiddos are going to love you.” In regard to the class of students, she was going to teach one day. 

It’s a day like any other, they have little conversations on their way to work, clock in together and head right to the first aisle on their to-do list. He dances around to the music, they toss things at each other, he makes dirty jokes, and she shakes her head with so much love you could see hearts float around her head. It’s so completely normal. 

And then she almost drops a whole shelf on herself, he’s quick to swoop in and catch it for her. They put it back in place and carefully let it go, making sure it stays put before she turns to thank him… only he’s about an inch, maybe two from her face. 

“That was a close one,” he whispers, staring at her lips. “Would hate to lose you to the soup aisle.” 

She can’t help staring back at his lips, wanting to kiss him so goddamn bad she forgets how to breathe for a moment. It’s like time stops while she stares at him and he stares back. 

“I’d hate to lose you at all…” 

“Why?” Even she’s surprised to hear it come out of her. 

He doesn’t say anything, he simply leans in more, and so does she. Meeting him halfway, their lips touch slowly and then all at once. A hand of his cups her face, holding her in place while she holds his sides, pulling him closer so their chests are pressed together. 

Breathing each other in deeply, she feels her soul intertwine with his at that moment. Everything makes sense. She was supposed to take this little job and spend all this time with him for this moment right here. It was always supposed to happen. 

They were meant to happen. 

They pull away with a matching smile, giggling as they come to terms with the fact that just happened… it finally happened. 

“You understand what I mean, right?” He teases. 

She nods, “yeah… I get it, but could you say it just one more time?” 

“Here?” He teases, kissing her cheek. “Or here?” He kisses her jaw next and moves towards her ear, “I could say it all over you if you let me.” 

“We’re still at work,” she reminds him, pushing him away slightly before he could kiss her neck and start something he couldn’t finish in the freaking soup aisle. 

“Do you want to come over later? To kiss a bit and read more lord of the rings?” He offers, making it sound a lot more innocent than either of them wanted it to be. 

“Only if you read the chapter this time,” she teases, heart racing in her chest at the prospect of being alone with him. 

Him. 

The one and the only crush she’s had for the last 6 years of her life. 

He flirts with her more than ever after that, he steals kisses every time he passes her and even serenades the love songs on the speaker to her. She pokes his sides when she passes by him, learning that he’s ticklish and he yelps every time she does it. 

In his van on the way home, after not being able to keep their hands off each other most of the night, they have to so he can focus on the road. 

“Does this make us more than friends?” She wonders aloud, hoping he had the same worry. 

He nods, “I’d hope so… but if you want me to ask, I can?” 

He holds her hand in the middle of the centre console again, rubbing his thumb over her hand gently. 

“What if I want to do it?” She teases. “I want to make you my boyfriend, I’ve thought about it for years.” 

“That’s crazy,” he can’t believe it, shaking his head as he drives a bit faster, wanting to be home with her so bad. 

“Why?” She sounds so defeated. 

“I never thought you liked me, I thought you were just really smiley… you could’ve been mine this whole time,” he explains just how crazy it was for him. In a very good way. 

“I can’t even imagine having a boyfriend in high school,” she admits. 

He slows down when he enters the trailer park, follows the poorly plowed path towards his own trailer and parks. Finally turning to her again with a smile, “I’ve never had a girlfriend before either, it’s all really new to me too.” 

“Was that your first kiss too?” She whispers, scared that it wasn’t. 

She was right. 

He shakes his head, “Cheryl Lenetti in grade 7… she liked to pet my head when we made out, she said my hair felt like a seal pup when it was shaved. So fuckin weird.” 

It makes her laugh a bit, “I can’t imagine it short…” 

“I’ve got pictures,” he assures her, “Wayne’s kept all my life well documented. He likes to tease me and say that he’ll sell the embarrassing ones to the tabloids when my band blows up.” 

“I need to see them,” she agrees and lets go of his hand finally, reaching for her door but once again, Eddie rushes out to beat her to it like a bat out of hell. 

She shakes her head with an affectionate smile, taking his hand again once outside and carefully treating through the lightly shovelled snow leading up to his trailer. He helps her out of her coat and hangs it up for her, leaving her to kick off her boots and awkwardly stand in his main room. It’s a lot more put together than the last time he visited. like he planned to invite her over, so it was clean this time. 

“You want anything to eat?” 

She shakes her head, “no… honestly I’m too nervous to eat anything right now.” 

“Oh, why?” He moves into her space, hands on her shoulders, slipping down her arms while pulling her in closer. 

“You’re handsome and you want to kiss me and I have no idea what I’m doing and— and,” she stops with a sigh and a shrug. 

“You’re so fucking cute,” he says with so much affection his smile makes his cheeks hurt. His eyes glisten back at her, and he shakes his head ever so slightly, amazed that she likes him back this much. “You don’t need to be nervous, there’s nothing you could do that would make me stop liking you at this point.” 

She takes the plunge this time, she presses her lips against his, holding his waist she wraps her arms around his back and holds him there. He’s shocked at first and then he settles, hand coming up to cup her face as he kisses back. She’s not completely sure what she’s doing, but she’s seen enough movies to imitate what she’s seen. He smiles into the 4th or 5th peck she presses to his lips and pulls back. 

“Do you want to go sit down?” 

“Like in your room?” 

“If you want?” 

She nods, cautious as ever but she wants to spend the whole night kissing him. He walks her down the hallway, into his dark room where he flicks on his side table lamp to show off his perfectly made bed and clean-ish room. “Welcome back,” he teases. 

“You planned this,” she calls him out. “Did you know you were going to kiss me at work today?”

“Not at all,” he assures her, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. Legs spread so she could stand between them, and she brushes her hands through his hair while he looks up at her. “I was going to ask you to come over, yeah, but kissing you was a surprise to me too… I like you so much it’s fucking crazy.” 

“I like you just as much,” she leans in, bumping their noses together with a smile. “You want to teach me how to make out?” 

He laughs, scooting up to the head of the bed, resting against the headrest, “you want to lie down or sit in my lap, or what?” 

“Um,” she bites her lip, deciding to be daring, she kneels on the bed and straddles his lap. “This is good, right?” 

“Absolutely,” he rests his hands on her hips, smoothing his thumbs over the fabric of her pants. “I just want you to be comfortable, princess.” 

She rests her forearms on his shoulders, hands in his hair, and she brushes his bangs out of his face to get a good look in his eyes. His big beautiful chocolate brown eyes that she loves so fucking much. “You’re so pretty,” she whispers. “Has anyone ever told you that?” 

He shakes his head lightly, “no…”

“There,” she smiles. “You get my first kiss and I get to tell you how pretty you are—

“You can have all my other firsts too,” he whispers, selling his soul to her in the way he stares at her. She knows he’s giving all of himself to her at that moment. “You can have all of me.” 

“I— I uh, I think we can start with kissing,” she frightens right up again. 

“Sorry,” he runs his hands up her back gently, “I’m not expecting anything… I just wanted you to know there’s a lot I haven’t done with anyone either, I’m just as new to this. We’re on the same level.” 

“Not yet,” she finally leans in for another kiss, holding his face in her hands to keep herself steady more than anything.

He licks at her bottom lip, it’s strange but she follows his lead, coming back in with an open mouth their tongues touch for a moment and then he sucks on her tongue. Again and again, they both come back in, exploring each other's mouths while his hands trail up and down her back and she plays with his hair once again. 

She doesn’t mean to grind against him, but her hips take over like they have a mind of their own as the pace and rhythm are set with through tongues. He moans into her mouth, pulling back with a shade of embarrassment painted across his cheeks. “sorry…” 

“It’s fine,” she’s a little breathless, so enamoured with him. 

He stares back at her fondly, taking in how cute she looked with lust-blown eyes and swollen lips, he smiles, “you’re good at this…” 

“Feels like it,” she teases, making him think she can feel how hard he’s getting under her and he panics. 

“You don’t have to sit on me if it’s uncomfortable, I did’t mean to—

“To what?” 

“Get hard…” he whispers, “it’s embarrassing.”

“Oh,” she hovers and looks down between them, more turned on, herself, than she realized, as well. “Oh.”

Maybe I am ready to do this…

She settles back down against him and shakes her head, “no, I’m not uncomfortable… it— it’s nice to know I did that, actually.” 

“Can I just—“ he reaches between them and adjusts himself because it was a bit uncomfortable for him, he was hanging to the left and thats where her thigh was rested, and now he’s right under her… “sorry, it hurt a bit.” 

“Sorry,” her cheeks heat up, she can feel his girth through his jeans, she has to fight every single urge not to grind down against him again, but she knows it would feel good. 

For both of them. 

“It’s okay, kiss me again?” He begs, pulling her closer. 

Their lips collide again but with much more passion and need this time, knowing what she’s doing a bit better, she’s all over him this round. Biting his lip, making him whine, tugging on his hair, she grinds against him again, not so by accident because his hands on his hips help glide her over himself perfectly. She does it again this time, he gasps into the kiss and rests his forehead against hers as she does it again and again, dragging her hot core over his aching, clothed, cock. There’s so much friction from their jeans, they feel like total fucking teenagers dry humping in his bed like they can’t get enough of each other. 

He kisses her jaw and down her neck, he sucks on her pulse point which makes her moan, it's so sweet and sexy that his cock twitches under his jeans in response. She feels it and whines, wanting more from him but not knowing what… it feels so fucking good she wants to just say fuck it and let him take her right here and now, but she’s still scared. 

She grinds down a bit harder, the seam of her pants rubbing against her clit just right. “Oh my god,” she’s so out of breath, it feels too good. 

“I’m gonna cum in my jeans if you keep this up,” he warns her, breathing against her neck between kisses. 

“Me too,” she assures him, doing it again and again, she tugs on his hair to bring his mouth back to hers, wanting to be kissing him when it happens. 

His hips come up to meet hers, his hands on her ass this time so he can help her press against him as hard as she can each time she grinds down against him. Her legs tremble a bit, his breathing sputters, and they’re a completely sweaty mess with too many clothes on. 

She feels the all too familiar heat build in her stomach and spread throughout her body as she cums with a long drawn-out sigh, which ends more like a moan as he finishes underneath her. His grip on her ass tightens, and he groans deeply as his hips sputter under her, their foreheads resting together as they catch their breath, eyes still closed. 

She feels so weightless and free, resting her head on his shoulder instead and cuddling into his chest. “Oh my god?” 

His chest still rising and falling heavily, he laughs slightly, “wasn’t expecting that.” 

“Me either…” she sighs, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “But I liked it.” 

“Me too,” he can’t help but smile. His hands roam all over her back, holding her close and soaking up the moment as long as he can. “You wanna stay here tonight?” 

She nods against him, not at all ready to leave his side. “I would love to.” 

Slowly but surely, they get up, he lets her use the bathroom first, giving her some boxers of his and a t-shirt to wear when she comes back out. He changes quickly in his room, hiding all the evidence of what happened in his dirty laundry hamper. He matches her in a new pair of underwear and the same shirt from before, smiling when she comes back into his room with her things in her hands. She rests them on his dresser, she’d have to wear them again tomorrow when she goes home. 

“You’re so cute in my things,” he compliments her, wrapping her up in his arms and kissing her forehead a few times. 

“Thanks,” she giggles, completely blown away still that this is all real and he’s her’s and it’s happening. 

They get into bed, and she snuggles into him the same way he did with her just last week with the lord of the rings. It’s cute, it feels right, and she feels at home in his arms. He runs his hands over her back. He kisses the top of her head a few times, she plays with the hem of his shirt in her hands and eventually slips her hands under his shirt to play with the slight dusting of hair on his tummy. They’re so content together it’s like they’ve always been this close. 

And they always would be too. 

part two

General Taglist 

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @eddiemunson-rp @squishyturtle 

Eddie

@fightingdragonswithwho @kyomito @reidselle @venomsvl @nomajdetective @girl-with-an-orange-cat @blairscott @princesseddie 

@idkidknemore @eddiethesexy

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Jaded - Charlie Weasley

A/N: so, I know that the last thing I should be doing right now is start another series… and yet… here we are xD also, I’m sorry, I know She Is Love won, but I think we have established by now that my mind kind of does whatever it wants and I have no control whatsoever xD it’s all chaos here… anyways, I hope you like it :) 

Request -  Anonymous asked: Hello, I hope you’re doing okay my lovely. I was wondering if you could possibly wite maybe a enemies/rivals to lovers with Charlie Weasley and the reader? (Lots of sarcastic banta back and forth maybe they both work on the dragon reserve and are entrusted with transporting a very dangerous dragon to a new reserve, but something happens on the journey and just them to are trapped (either with the dragon or not) and then an argument that leads to some form of confession? This is so long I’m so bloody sorry, and I hope your writers block subsides [full request here]

Warnings: Charlie’s a bit of an asshole [but not really] for now, I think that’s it but please let me know if I’m missing something, also reader is from the Nott family

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn’t mine :D     

Your name: submit What is this?

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Jaded

Hey…j-j-jaded… you got your mama’s style, But you’re yesterday’s child to me. So jaded, you think that’s where it’s at, But is that where it’s supposed to be?You’re gettin’ it all over me… X-rated

Charlie fucking Weasley.

That stupid name had haunted you for more than ten years now. There were very few people you hated in your life but his name was definitely on that list.

After enduring seven years of him at Hogwarts, you thought you’d finally be free when he was being drafted to play Quidditch professionally and you would move to Romania to fulfill your dreams of studying dragons. But no, for some stupid twist of fate, he decided not to become a Quidditch player and all of the sudden there was another opening at the exact Romanian Dragon Sanctuary that you had applied to so, again, here he was. And it seemed that no matter what you did, you were never able to escape Charlie fucking—

“WEASLEY!” you yelled when you finally spotted him, not far from your hut.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite princess” you heard his voice as you approached him. “How can I help you, love?” he asked, brushing his hair away from his face, showing off his stupid tattoos on his stupid strong arms.

“I have asked you many times, to stop calling me that!” you glared at him. “I need to speak with you” you said, before you went back into your hut and he only raised his eyebrow before following you.

“Is this how you treat your guests, love?” he said, walking in and leaning on your desk as he started going through your stuff.

“I didn’t invite you” you smirked.

“You just did” he glared a little at you.

“Don’t be confused, Weasley, this is strictly business” you glared at him.

“Of course it is” he chuckled. “Are you working on the Sleeping Draught for the dragons? Weren’t we supposed to work on this together?”

“Yes, that is correct, Weasley. Excuse me for not wanting to wait 45 minutes to see you flirting with the group of girls casually visiting the reserve today” you told him.

“Oh, so you did notice that” he smiled. “Sorry, love, you must remember how it is” he said, brushing a hand through his curls and flashing his smile at you as you rolled your eyes. “I mean, I had a complete section cheering for me back at school” he shrugged.

“Oh, yes. How could I forget?” you asked, sarcastically.

“You don’t have to be so mean about it” he pouted. “Why are you making so much of it?” he asked, grabbing one of the phials.

“Why did I just find out that you are coming with me to Hogwarts, Weasley?”

“I asked first, Nott” he smirked, winking at you.

“Could you please not mess up my things?” you said glaring at him, knowing he did it just to anger you. “I am making more because we are bringing four dragons, not three” you explained.

“What? That doesn’t make sense, why? Isn’t it just three champions?”

“Well, obviously something happened, and now there’s four” you explained. “Now tell me why Steven just informed me that you are coming. Evan was supposed to bring them with me” you insisted.

“Tah-dah!” he smiled. “Surprise, darling! Looks like something came up and you got an upgrade so I’m coming with you instead” he smiled.

“Feels like a downgrade” you muttered.

“Hey!” he said, placing his hand on his chest and looking at you pretending to be hurt. “How can you say that? This is going to be so much fun. You, me, back at Hogwarts, like the good old days” he smiled flirtily at you. “Remember?”

“I’m not sure what days you’re remembering, Weasley” you said pushing him away. “But good is not what I would use to describe them” you told him.

“Of course not” he rolled his eyes, grabbing another bottle on your desk and throwing it in the air before grabbing it again.

“Give me that!” you said, grabbing it from him.

“Okay, so, since we’re getting four-” he said, as he grabbed one of your notepads.

“Stop saying we. You’re not coming with me” you glared at him.

“Oh, I beg to differ, love, see here?” he said, pointing at the paper you had earlier. “That’s my name, right next to yours” he smiled. “It’s official” he added. “So, let’s see what you’re bringing” he said, looking through your notes. “Chinese Fireball, Swedish Short-Snout, Common Welsh Green” he muttered. “Oh, I know, we should take the Hungarian Horntail we got last week” he smiled.

“What? Absolutely not!”

“Why not? That would be perfect” he said, grabbing a quill and adding it to the list.

“Weasley, that is one of the most dangerous dragon breeds and you want to take her to a school full of young students, do you have any idea how irresponsible that is?”

“Relax, it’s for the first task, I doubt it’ll be anything dangerous. Plus that’s why we’re going.

“No! We should take an Antipodean Opaleye” you said, trying to grab the notepad from him but he placed it out of your reach.

“Oh, come on, love. Live a little, I would have killed to see a Hungarian Horntail at that age” he smirked. “Nothing bad is gonna happen. We won’t let it” he insisted.

“You haven’t even spent time with her, Weasley, I have. I am telling you this isn’t a good idea!”

“What isn’t a good idea?” you both stopped when your boss, Steven stepped inside your hut.

“Well, we were just talking about how the fourth dragon should be the Hungarian Horntail” Charlie quickly said. “It was actually (Y/N)’s idea” he smiled.

“No, it wasn’t! I was saying that we should take the Antipodean Opaleye!”

“Come on, love, we are already taking a Common Welsh Green, we should bring something more exciting” Charlie insisted as he passed the notepad to Steven.

“I just don’t think that this-”

“I’m with Weasley” Steven said, before you could even finish. Of course, he was. Not because Steven was a jerk. He was actually a good boss. But this was the story of your life. Charlie would get away with anything he wanted. “I think the Hungarian Horntail would be an interesting choice. Plus, you’re going and if anyone can handle her, it’s you, (Y/N)” he smiled. “I’ll go make the arrangements while you finish the potion” he said, leaving your hut before you could argue.

“See? Lovely idea” Charlie smirked.

“Why did you do that? I’m telling you is not a good idea to bring her. She’s still settling in the idea of being around people-”

“You worry to much, love” he said, grabbing your phial and throwing it in the air again, but this time, he accidentally dropped it. “Uh-oh” he said, before smiling innocently at you as you took a deep breath. “That wasn’t… part of the Sleeping Draught potion, was it?”

“You mean the potion we’re giving to the, now four, dragons we have to transport that you were supposed to be helping me with 45 minutes ago?” you asked, upset.

“Uh-”

“Yes, Weasley, that was part of the potion” you told him.

*-*Flashback*-*

“Well, look who finally decided to show up” you said, annoyed, as Charlie entered the class and ran over to your desk. You couldn’t believe you were stuck with him as your Potions partner for the entire year.

“Sorry, princess. Practice ran late” he smiled, sitting next to you.

“Don’t call me princess. And I don’t understand how being in the Quidditch team gives you immunity so you can show up whenever you want to and work on half a potion” you said, as you added the next ingredient.

“Come on, love. Don’t hate on the team” he said smirking at you. “Everyone loves the team!”

“Oh, yeah, I have such a deep admiration for guys who fly around in sticks with other guys” you said with a sly smirk.

“I know you’re joking, but when you use that sexy voice, you know it turns me on a little” he mocked you.

“Ugh, I can’t stand you!”

“Then sit down” he smirked. 

“Shut up! And help me with this thing, or I’m taking your name off the Potion” you said, as he saw the potion you were making on your book.

“Ugh, give it, you’re doing it wrong!”

“Excuse me? I have brewed the Volubilis Potion many times before, Weasley. And I am already halfway through, without your help. I am not doing it wrong!” you snapped frustrated.

“Yes, you are!” Charlie said grabbing the jar of Syrup of Hellebore from your hand but you didn’t let it go.

“No! Give it!” you said pulling it towards you.

“Ugh! You stuck-up, know-it-all drag!”

“Take that back you pompous Quidditch nut!” you argued, neither of you noticing Professor Snape coming towards your table.

“Mr. Weasley, Miss Nott-”

“Give it, Nott!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“Fine!”

Charlie hadn’t been prepared for you to let it go and he ended up dropping the whole thing on the cauldron making it explode all over Professor Snape’s face. When you heard the small explosion, the entire class went dead silent and the two of you slowly turned to see your teacher’s face covered in soot.

“You two. Detention. Tonight. My office” Professor Snape said; as you both resisted with everything you had to not laugh at the change of his voice. “50 points off Gryffindor and 30 off Slytherin” he said before walking to his desk again.

“That’s not fair!” Charlie argued.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you sneaking in in the middle of my class, Mr. Weasley” he added.

“Ugh! Thanks a lot” Charlie snapped at you.

“Me? You’re blaming me? You’re the one who dropped it!”

“Only because you wouldn’t let it go!”

“Enough!” you heard Professor Snape from the front of the class. “Both of you out of my classroom!” he said standing up.

“But I wasn’t-”

“NOW!”

“See what you did?” Charlie said once you were outside.

“Me? I had never been kicked out of a class or had detention for that matter! This is all your fault!”

“No, it’s not! You were making it wrong!” he insisted.

“UGH! Just because you’re the Captain of your bloody team, you think you’re the boss of everything! And everyone!” you snapped frustrated.

“It’s not my fault you can’t stand to be wrong!”

“You are so… so-”

“Charming?” he said smirking and raising his eyebrow at you.

“Vexing!” you snapped, as you walked down the hall but he followed you.

“Really? Well, you’re no ray of sunshine either!” he glared at you. “‘Oh, look at me, I’m (Y/N) Nott. I’m a patronizing know-it-all princess who thinks is better than anybody else!’” he said mocking your voice.

“Ugh! I don’t talk like that! You’re infuriating!”

“You know what? I hope you fail all your NEWT’s!”

“Yeah? I hope you go bald!”

“I hope you end up an old spinster!”

“I hope they cancel Quidditch!”

“Take that back!” Charlie snapped.

“Make me!” you said smirking at him.

“You know what? I hope that once we graduate here, I won’t ever have to see your conceded face again!” he said, before turning around and leaving for the Gryffindor tower.

“My thoughts exactly, Weasley” you muttered to yourself before walking to the Library.

*-*End of Flashback*-*

“We can fix it, love. Don’t worry” he said, cleaning up the mess. “See? Just like old times” he smiled. “This is gonna be fun, princess!”

“Don’t call me that” you glared at him, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to contain yourself. 

Yes, you had one very big problem. His name is Charlie fucking Weasley. And you have no fucking idea how you’re supposed to survive the next few weeks with him. 

To Be Continued

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: so… part 2?

[earl-grey-teacake]

i am so in love with the baby AU like omg you are THE BEST❤️❤️ Can you explain how the babies are reacting to the other drivers? (like how would oscar react if max pick him up etc.) i’m going to support this fic and your upcoming works too!! sending you much hugs🫶🩷

Thank you so much!!! I’m so happy you enjoy it!!!❤️❤️❤️ I can absolutely explain!

I gave brief overviews, I can absolutely go in-depth if you want me to. Just shoot me an ask! 😊

Max Verstappen

Logan and Oscar is very chill around Max. Max gives fun uncle vibes and honestly, he’s ecstatic about being an uncle. It’s like being a parent without all the responsibility and obligations of being a parent. He’s the kind of uncle that takes them on hot laps and throws them in the air much to the chagrin of their parents.

When they both start karting, he is the most competitive guest they ever invited. Like sure the parents are competitive, but Max is there for support and pulling Logan aside to tell him it's okay to send the kid that tried hit him in practice into the barrier to "teach them a lesson".

Checo Perez

They both like him. He doesn’t interact with them a lot but if they were in need of a babysitter, Checo is on the list. He’s responsible, listens to them babble on and on because that’s what he does with Max, and remember to feed them healthy food.

Charles Leclerc

Charles is great with kid. He loves kids.

Logan likes Charles a lot. He finds Charles really funny and in turn, Charles bribes Logan with vanilla ice cream and lets him play with Leo. He also dresses Logan up in either Ferrari merch or his own stuff to take photos and mess with the others. He also bought a Ferrari stroller to take Logan and Oscar around Monaco in. He is committed to turning them into Ferrari fans because everybody is a Ferrari fan.

Oscar is a little bit difficult to get into Ferrari merch. He is devoted to papaya and will squirm as they try to put a red t-shirt on him. Charles will sometimes pick him up from Lando's and Carlos's place in Monaco just to hand out with him. He can be seen walking Leo and pushing a Ferrari stroller on his way to lunch.

Fernando Alonso

Alonso is great with kids. He has a lot of energy which freaked Logan out at first but he quickly became a favorite. Fernando will put Logan up to things to scare his parents, mainly George. He’s convinced Logan to tell his parents and their team that Aston Martin is his favorite team and went as far as to train Logan to cheer when the Aston Martin appear on screen.

Oscar finds him annoying but Alonso finds Oscar hilarious. He's onboard for the Alpine hate. He finds Oscar silence funny and likes to mess with him to get a response. Oscar's response is a frustrated yell and bats his arms at Alonso.

Lewis Hamilton

Both children are in awe and a little bit of fear. Lewis has a vibe around him that seems otherworldly and the kids recognize it. He’s very fun to be around and he gets them a lot of snacks so they are always on their best behavior around him. Logan is constantly being held by him and Lewis holds full on conversations as Logan babbles and points. Oscar is silent the entire time he is held by Lewis, thought whether it is because of anxiety or because he's naturally silent, one cannot tell.

Lance Stroll

In one word, STRESSED. This man is stressed out at the idea of taking care of children and the children are both stressed out by him and for him. If one of them cries all three of them are crying. However, when they aren’t stressed out, Lance is the one who gives the most treats. Candy, cookies, expensive fruit, whatever they want. They are most peaceful when they are sat in a circle together sharing a box of cookies.

Yuki Tsunoda

Weirded out by babies. The can't walk on their own, have to be held, eat only pureed food- Yuki is not a fan. Is one of those people who just cannot hold babies. He sort of dangles them as they wiggle around. An unpleasant situation for both of them. The children, when they were younger were not a fan of being held by him.

He does however, enjoy their company when they are older and can eat solid food. He is committed to having them try a lot of different foods and they love the fact they get different foods all the time. It's really hard to live on a diet of only British food.

Daniel Ricciardo

This man is a child at heart. The kids find him hilarious and Daniel finds them incredibly amusing. He loves messing with Oscar by showing him clips of Alpine. He drives them around in his sports cars, takes them to petting zoos, overall fun uncle vibes.

Logan loves being around him. At first, he was really shy and Daniel's outgoing-ness only seemed to spook him but he warmed up after that. Oscar also finds him very funny but is very reactive to the Alpine clips.

Valtteri Bottas

Valtteri is great with the kid. They find Valterri incredibly amusing and funny. He's also the kind of person who would throw the kids in the air and catch them.

He is closer to Logan simply because of his proximity to Mercedes and Lewis. Logan sees him as one of the fun uncles in comparison to Lewis, who is more calm and reserved.

Zhou Guanyu

Oscar and Zhou get along very well. Both are very quiet and are content just being there. When spending time with him, Oscar is silently doing his thing while Zhou does his own stuff. It's a very compatible relationship.

Logan on the other hand, requires a bit more stimuli. He's easily entertained by videos of Zhou's cat, Sweetcorn. Logan loves animals put he can't have his own pet with al the traveling and they don't visit the UK a lot so Logan is very excited to see Zhou's cat, who is absolutely adorable.

***I am grouping them together since the response is very similar. I also find them to be much mellower people (with the exception of Alpine).

Nico Hulkenberg and Kevin Magnussen

Both of the kids interact very little with the Haas drivers. Both the drivers are also responsible parents so they interaction that they have had are always positive.

Logan has been mistaken to be their kid before. He's a blonde and green-eyed, he looks more like one of the Haas kids then Alex and George's.

Esteban Ocon and Pierre Gasly

Oscar is not a fan of both of them due to them being Alpine drivers. If they come to Oscar in non-Alpine clothes Oscar is fairly chill but since they are usually wearing their team kit, Oscar goes into a full-blown meltdown. We're talking screaming, crying, hiding behind Andrea and Zak as if the Alpine is going to come alive and eat him.

Logan doesn't interact with the drivers outside races and a majority of the time, his interactions are heavily influenced by Oscar's freak out. Oscar, in all his protectiveness, will not let Logan be near them lest his best friend be harmed.

Logan's one interaction outside of the paddock and without Logan was when Alex was invited to a Redbull event with the current and former drivers. George had refused to go on principle seeing as he called them out for their treatment of Alex and the fact he raced for one of their rivals. Logan was sat next to Pierre at the dinner where he was fed different types of cheeses the whole time because they wanted to his reactions. He also found out he is not a big fan of chevre cheese.

Thank you so much for the ask! I hope you like it.❤️

Sending hugs🥰 Please feel free to send more asks❤️

[starkwlkr]

celebrity skin | cillian murphy

barbenheimer series

‘Is Hollywood done with Y/n?’

‘Y/n L/n, the girl failure’

That’s what the articles published on their front page. Recently, Y/n had refused to do a big budget film for a legendary director claiming that she wanted to take a break from the world of acting. Her and Cillian were looking to buy a house in Ireland so she was busy looking at listings and calling multiple real estate agents.

The director ended up calling her a bitch over the phone. He had insulted her over and over, stating that she would regret her decision.

After a source told multiple magazines about the situation only the ‘source’ didn’t tell the full story, the media started calling her annoying, selfish, dumb blonde, and the one that stuck the most, a bitch.

Cillian was not having it. Instead of going to his audition for a new series, he stayed home with her. He didn’t want her to be alone, especially at a time where the media and ‘fans’ were turning their backs on her.

“You don’t have to stay with me.” Y/n sighed as she snuggled up to Cillian. They were currently in London since Cillian had gotten an audition for a BBC series. He called the casting director and canceled, which made Y/n mad. Why wouldn’t she be? He had talked about the audition for months and now he canceled?!

“I want to.” He replied, giving her a kiss to the side of her head. “You haven’t eaten anything. I can make you pancakes, I know how much you love breakfast for dinner.”

“I’ll eat in a bit. I think I want to take a nap.” She said.

Cillian had noticed how she’s been taking naps all week. Sometimes she wouldn’t even come out of her room and all she ate was granola bars and orange juice.

“I want you to know that I’m with you every step of the way. Those articles? They’re wrong. Fuck those articles. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I love you so much.” Cillian admitted.

Y/n could feel a tear roll down her cheek. Sometimes all she wanted to do was run away with Cillian to whatever country and live their lives in a nice house.

“You’re a jerk, you know that. . I wasn’t planning on crying today. But I love you too.” Y/n laughed as Cillian pulled her in for a kiss. “I wish we could leave this place and go to one of those cottage houses in the countryside. That’s always been a dream of mine.”

“That sounds nice. Why don’t you pack your bag and I’ll buy our tickets and we can leave tomorrow.” Cillian said.

“What?” Y/n asked confused.

“I saw you looking at this cottage the other day on your laptop. I bought it two days ago and I payed my mum to buy us some nice furniture and food so by the time we get there it’ll be okay for us to stay there for a while. So go pack and I’ll arrange our flight. You and I are leaving all this behind for the next few days. No work, no fancy dresses or premieres to attend. Just us and our new home.” He explained.

“You’re full of surprises, my love.”

TIME SKIP

OCTOBER

It had been a few months since Y/n and Cillian left their life in London and stayed in their new cottage in the countryside. She loved it there. No paparazzi or pushy fans to bother her or Cillian. It was paradise for her. Eventually the casting director for Peaky Blinders offered the role of Tommy Shelby to Cillian since last time Cillian was going to audition he had called to cancel. The casting director desperately wanted him to portray the protagonist of the new BBC series.

Y/n encouraged Cillian to take the role. She was fine with staying in their cottage after all she had made new friends with the women that lived nearby. So Cillian flew back to London to film and Y/n stayed behind. She had picked up new hobbies, fixed some stuff that needed fixing like the guest room and even started working on her garden.

Soon, Cillian had finished filming and made it back home to Y/n just in time for her birthday. Even though it was her day, Y/n insisted on making dinner herself. She decided to cook a comfort food of hers, chicken alfredo.

Cillian watched as she set a plate full of pasta and chicken in front of him then placed hers on her placemat. “I should be cooking for you.” Cillian said, grabbing his fork and beginning to eat.

“If the birthday girl wants to cook then let her.” Y/n stated then began to eat. “How was filming? I saw some pictures on twitter of you on set and I have mixed feelings about the haircut.”

“You don’t like it? Be honest. I don’t like it.” Cillian admitted.

“Well it took some time to get used to it, but I kind of like it now. I don’t know, you look hot either way.” Y/n smirked.

“Then I guess I’ll have to thank the hair department.”

Soon, both plates of food were forgotten as the two lovers made their way to their bedroom, pieces of clothing scattered around. It had been months and both Cillian and Y/n were counting down the days until they say each other again. Months without a single kiss or the feeling of skin on skin. What a way to end your birthday . . .

TAGLIST

@leclercloml @butterfly-skinnylegend @rockerchick05 @agustdpeach @celesteblack08 @probablypossesedbysatan @kittyrumbl3r @electrobutterfly @knpgituloh @butlersluvbot @captainwans @bellstwd @theekyliepage @marti-su @multifans-things @ceruleanrainblues @litterallnobody @jackierose902109 @sinarainbows @cosniffee @thatgirlthatreadswattpad

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 3 - Chance~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: As you adjust to life in the hotel, you start to form bonds with other guests and offer your help when needed. However, things take a turn when you faint and wake up in the room of the one person you hoped to avoid.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery (Alastor), sassiness, Val is mentioned, Angel gets hurt (sorry), cursing, fluff, eventual smut (the next part is a SPICY one sinners), actual plot, slow burn, and of course 18+, this is the last shorter chapter, I'll start feeding you more!

1.7k Words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (You're on it!) Part 4 Part 5  Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.A Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

Over the next few weeks you seem to adjust well to the hotel. You try to help Nifty with at least one meal a day, give advice to Charlie on different ‘redemption exercises’, and have even helped an eggboy or two not get scrambled. Alastor seemed to keep his distance which was much appreciated (especially after hearing the stories and history of the “Radio Demon”). You do what you can to fill the void you feel from not being able to help to your full potential. Of course, there really hasn’t been a need for your expertise. But as they say, ask and you shall receive.

Angel was coming in from yet another brutal shift with Val. He was usually quick to dismiss the bruising around his wrists and face. “Comes with the job babe!” He’d say through a toothy smile. “I didn’t do a good job if I don’t come home with some battle scars!” You’d share a look with Husk, silently agreeing how fucked up this was, but Angel always changed the subject to avoid any pity or awkwardness.

This time was different. It was later than usual. Everyone but you and Husk had long since made their way to bed. Angel walked in staggering and not in the ‘oh he was out with Cherri’ way. He was barely able to make it to the couch before collapsing to his hands and knees. His breathing shallow and raspy – you could hear the blood gurgling in his lungs as he struggled with each breath. This was the worst Val had done yet. That motherfucker is going to kill him one day if he keeps this up – Overlord or not, he’s going to pay. You take a mental note to make a visit to Val, but right now, Angel needed help.

Carefully you try to lift him onto the couch. Angel hisses from the sudden movement. Damnit this is bad. I need a few seconds without any eyes around. “Husk, be a dear and run up to my room please. I have some medical supplies by my bed.”

“No need, I have some stuff behind the ba----” he stops when he sees the glare you’re shooting over your shoulder. “Ah alright fine, I’ll be right back.” he grumbled as he made his way up the stairs. That was the great thing about Husk - he wasn’t one to ask too many questions.

Finally alone you lay Angel back on the couch. “Hey Angel? Babe? I need you to look at me. I know it hurts and it’s hard to breathe but I have a trick that’ll help relieve some of the pressure. Trust me?” He places one of his hands on your shoulder as confirmation, unable to get enough air to speak. Time to work my magic.

Kneeling by the couch, you gently place your hands on his ribs and stomach while leaning your head over his chest, “Alright babe I need you to take a deep breath and close your eyes. This won’t feel great.” You wince as the words leave your mouth. For this to work you’d have to cause him some discomfort otherwise some more complication questions might arise. R̷̢͙̃ǘ̷̮͔͠l̵̰̝̆ḛ̷̀͊ ̵͕̍#̵̜̌2̷̼́̅ Never tell a soul what (or how much) power you have.

“Ok eyes closed and breathe in 3……2…..1….” I’m sorry Angel, you deserve so much better than this.  In one motion you shove into his ribs sending him writhing in pain while you place a soft kiss on his chest. The internal injuries made it easy to hide the pink glow that usually came from the wound, however the pain…yeah that shit still felt like torture. During your time training with Carmilla you learned the graver the injury, the more agonizing it was for you. After a few intense moments of pain, you pull away and sit back on your legs, trying to hide the lingering sting you felt in your lungs.

Angel groaned as he opened his eyes, finally able to take a proper breath. “Uhhhgg—what the fuuuuuuuuuuck was that?”

“Just some tricks I had to learn living in the city. You know how rough it gets out there. Glad you’re already feeling better.” You peck Angel’s cheek, feeling a soft twinge on your lips. The last bit of bruising on his face fades without him even realizing it. “Thanks toots. I don’t know how you did it, but I owe ya one.”

On queue Husk turns down the stairs with your medical kit. His face twists in a mix of relief and shock watching Angel up moving as if he wasn’t just on the verge of death five minutes earlier. He chuckles making his way back behind the bar. “Damn you’ve got quite the touch I see.” You tense at his choice of words. Fuck fuck fuck…calm down, he didn’t see anything. “Remind me to keep you on speed dial. Satan knows this one is bound to need you around again!” Husk points to Angel who by now has taken his usual place at the bar. “Oh shut up pussycat – the only thing I need right now is a few shots to forget this day ever happened! Let’s go! Booze me up Mr. Bartender!”

Deciding you have had enough excitement for the night, you say good evening to the guys and drag yourself through the quiet halls. Cursing the aftershock your body was going to endure after having to heal such extensive damage. It wasn’t horrible, more annoying like a bad hangover or flu, but the joy and warmth you felt from being able to help always made the pain more than worth it. You were just a few doors away from your room when your vision blurred. Why is the hall spinning? I don’t remember drinking. Oh fuck ----

Soft music fills your ears as you regain some form of consciousness. A familiar smell floods your senses causing your eyes to shoot open. Looking around you realize you’re in Alastor’s room. Not that you’d been here before, but between the bayou to your left and the freshly laundered red suits hanging by the door - it was obvious. Plus, his smell filled the room. You’d only dreamt of that smell and his warmth at least twice a week since first meeting the demon, much to your frustration.

Sharp static and ringing fill your ears as you sit up. Is this going to happen every time with this guy? Alastor appears in his chair by the bayou, chest puffed out and legs crossed. “Finally awake I see. I was just leaving my radio tower for the evening when you were coming down the hall. Quite a spectacle watching you try to walk straight. Drink too much with our good pal Husker?”

There he goes again trying to drill his eyes into your soul. You’ve seen him interact with the others. His eyes never had the same intensity as they did with you. Lie lie lie. “Yeah, you know how hard him and Angel go some nights. Guess I shouldn’t try to keep up next time.” You try to laugh it off hoping the answer was sufficient enough for him to drop the subject.

It wasn’t.

“Hmmm that’s funny. I didn’t smell a bit of alcohol when I picked you up off that floor.” Shit. “I don’t expect you to tell me everything dear however blatantly lying to me will get you on a side you don’t want to be on.” The static in his voice was piercing. You stared at him in silence. Work brain work, please give me anything. Rule #4 Never let your w̸͉̐e̵͓͐a̷̘͆k̴̭̏ñ̶͔e̶̢͒s̵̩̉ś̵͈è̸̮š̶͚ ̴̣̏s̴̖̈́h̷̲͐o̶̳͗w̷̱̾. Your lack of response apparently told him everything he needed in the moment. Standing up now, he begins to mindfully take off his jacket, unbutton his vest, and push up his sleeves.

This is it. This I how I die. And all because ---- oh fucking hell --- how did he get even more attractive? Is he doing this on purpose? Wow I’ve really got to get my priorities straight.

You can feel your heart pounding into your throat in anticipation as he sits in front of you on the bed. He slowly removes his gloves and tosses them to the side table.

“Let’s try this again…“

He reaches for your hands making you jerk slightly but he doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. You feel him pull you and as if under a spell, you follow mindlessly until you’re resting on your knees. He brings your inner wrist to his lips, gently peppering kisses between his words.

“What could possibly... “ kiss

“cause someone to drop as if… “ kiss

“the very life was sucked out of them?” kiss

An unfamiliar heat rips through your body, settling in your stomach and a little lower if you were being honest. You’ve never allowed anyone to be this intimate with you. Rule #3 N̴e̵v̴e̶r̵ ̷b̶r̷i̶n̸g̷ ̷a̸n̵y̷one too close.

“I – I – don’t..I didn’t – just tired.“ you give up on trying to form a coherent answer. What is he trying to get out of this? Alastor rests your hands on his cheeks. A deep sigh leaving his lips when he feels your warmth. You didn’t dare move, realizing you were just as touch starved as the demon in front of you.

Your mind is at full blown war. Torn between the desire to lean into this precarious high and absolute rage that he was trying to get into your head.

“I need to know so I can help you, my dear. I want to protect you.” His voice was clear but low. It lacked any trace of his usual radio effect. It’s as if he was dropping every façade. Speaking to you not as the Radio Demon but as just Alastor. “You and I could do great things [Y/N]. Trust me. Let me show you.”

What is he doing? I have worked relentlessly to be one of the strongest, most elusive demons in Hell. I fear no one. I need NO ONE. Yet here I am completely unravelling…

….to the Radio Demon.

Rule #̴̤͌1̴̢͝ ̶̘̽N̵̹̐e̴̯̋v̷̳̈́e̸̯̎r̵̠̕ ̸͈̊t̵̼͑ŗ̷̃u̴͔̓s̷̢̑t̴̪̓ ̵͎̊a̴̺͛n̶̛̳o̴̺͆t̴̤̿h̶̗̿e̴̞̋ȓ̸͜ Overlord.

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: SMUT, the forbidden quickie

Chapter Word Count: 3548

—-MDNI—-

A/N: ahhhhhhhh I finally wrote some spice! Sorry it took a while. This is a little tame I guess but we can work up to the extra lewd stuff

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Please read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 6

The following day rolled around quickly and before we knew it there was only an hour remaining until the auction house charity event. The disturbing events of yesterday were pushed to the back of my mind, the boys respecting my wishes on not wanting to talk about it. Sam told us over breakfast that he’d managed to access the auction house database and add our names to the guest list for the party, making it easy for us to attend without getting caught out as uninvited visitors. Now back in my room, I was rummaging through my duffel and pulling out my evening attire: a long black dress made of soft satin that had a slit up to the hip on one side. The neckline was a deep v-plunge and the dress was entirely backless.

“I guess no bra for me tonight then,” I mumbled to myself, also pulling out a clean pair of black lace panties and a pair of closed toe, VERY high black satin heels that had a neat little buckle on the ankle strap. I was already showered and my makeup was already done so I dropped my towel and slipped into the dress, pulling the thin straps over my shoulders. I followed by pulling on my panties, stretching the lace over my hips so it wasn’t visible through the slit in the dress. If you didn’t know any better, it would look like I wasn’t wearing anything at all. I sat on the edge of the bed and put on the heels, securing them in place before standing up and doing a few practice laps of the room - wearing shoes this high was not a common occurrence for me. I finished up by dusting my skin with the same perfume I wore yesterday, breathing in the pleasant smell before tucking the bottle along with my rouge lipstick into my little black clutch. I fussed over myself in the mirror for a few minutes when I heard a knock at the door. Pacing over I flung it open to greet the Winchester boys, and when I did I couldn’t help but do a double take over the oldest brother. I hated to admit it but he looked good. REALLY good. He was dressed head to toe in black: a slim fitted suit, shirt and tie, all of which seemed to flick something on in my brain. His suit jacket hung open and beneath it the shirt was clinging to his well defined torso, the top two buttons straining a little.

“You scrub up well, Dean,” I said to him, trying to sound pleasantly surprised. Instead, I think I sounded incredibly flirtatious. Dean didn’t seem to notice though as I watched his jaw slacken and his eyes flit over my body.

“Uhhh-um yeah, thanks,” he said, clearing his throat a little as he stepped aside to let me out.

“You look great, (Y/n),” Sam said, making such intense eye contact with me like he didn’t know where else to look, his cheeks glowing a little.

“Thanks Sam,” I smiled up at him before locking the motel room door and trying to ignore the fact that Dean didn’t say anything. Back to being an ass I see.

“So (Y/n), you’re with Dean. It should be pretty simple: get in, get the hair pain, get out. With that many people at the event, we don’t want to risk anyone getting hurt so I'll be ready and waiting outside with everything we need to destroy it and put the ghost to rest,” Sam briefed us before carrying on, “I’ll head back to our room to get everything and I’ll meet you there - you guys get going,” he nodded his head to Deans car which was parked out front. Dean said a quick farewell and headed out and I did the same, giving Sam a wave as he turned to leave.

I climbed into the front of the Impala, running my hands over the plush leather seat.

“You really do have great taste in cars Dean,” I said, looking around at the immaculate interior. He hummed in agreement, putting his arm over the back of my seat as he reversed out of the parking spot. Those top two buttons on his shirt were not going to last all night. I crossed my legs, getting comfortable for the short journey into town - the satin of my dress falling open and completely exposing my thigh to Dean. I watched him take his eyes off the road and fixate on my bare skin, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. Returning his eyes to the road I saw his chest rise as he took a deep breath, a small but deep groan emitting from his chest.

“You ok?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I’m fine,” he rasped.

“Ok… you’re acting strange though,” I said, leaning on the passenger side door to watch the street lamps turn on.

“Can you blame me?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

There was a few seconds of silence before he flicked on his cassette player and classic rock filled the car, bringing a smile to my ruby lips.

“Good taste in music too? I’ll be damned, you’ve got more of a personality than I thought.”

He scoffed a little before smirking, “there’s more to me than meets the eye sweetheart.” He looked over at me, green eyes piercing into mine with such intensity I suddenly felt a little warm. I looked away, quickly counting my lucky stars when I noticed we’d arrived.

Dean parked up and I reached for the door, however Dean stopped me from opening it.

“Wait,” his tone was authoritative as he reached a hand out to stop me, his rough fingers lightly grazing the soft skin of my thigh. Before I could even respond, he’d hopped out, slamming his door shut before striding around the front of the car to open mine for me. He held his hand out, which I grasped delicately and he pulled me to my feet.

“What was that for?” I asked, puzzled as he closed the passenger side door behind me.

“Just trying to keep up appearances for this shit-show,” he stated bluntly before he walked off ahead of me towards the front door whilst he left me to navigate the uneven cobbles in these death-trap shoes.

“Jerk,” I muttered under my breath, but he must’ve heard me because he turned around, sighed and held out his arm for me to take.

“Just ask if you need help,” he leaned in and said quietly, his face close enough that I could feel his breath on my skin. I sucked in a breath, which was a mistake as he smelt positively divine. He was filling my senses and I didn’t want him to.

We made it into the building with no trouble at all thanks to Sam’s hard work. The inside of the auction house was a grand spectacle indeed; with high ceilings, a chandelier made up of thousands of tiny pieces of crystal and two symmetrical mahogany staircases at the end of the entrance hall. It was busy, lots of people in expensive attire milling about and drinking equally expensive sparkly wine.

“Shall we get some champagne?” I turned and asked Dean, who chuckled slightly.

“You’re already more fun than Sam,” he said before whisking two flute glasses off a passing waiter and handing me one. We chinked glasses, laughing a little at how awkward all of this pomp and ceremony was for us before we both downed the expensive alcohol like shots. Dean winced slightly, handing his now empty flute back to the same waiter who gave him a concerned look.

“Aw damn, those bubbles - that shits wrong.”

“That’s because you’re supposed to sip it,” I laughed at him, placing my empty glass on an old polished oak sideboard.

“Then why did you neck it too if you knew?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows at me. I shrugged.

“To be honest I don’t know - I guess I wanted to lighten the old-money mood in here.” He nodded, seeming to understand where I was coming from. After that fiasco we made our way towards the immense curved staircases at the end of the room, Deans hand occasionally touching my exposed back as he guided me in front of him, making me shiver involuntarily. We ascended, making our way up and past people who were at the top of the stairs, idly chatting and leaning on the bannister - not paying us any mind as we turned down a quiet corridor. We walked quietly, the hum of chatting remaining behind us as we made our way down the dim corridor, looking out for the room number Sam had given us.

“Room 19, room 19, room 19…” I chanted to myself searching every door until we found the right one. Coming to a stop, Dean quickly knelt down and pulled a lockpick from his pocket. I watched in fascination as he inserted the device, ever so gently manoeuvring it with a look of pure concentration on his face. I couldn’t stop myself from looking over at him whilst he was unaware; looking at those focused and hooded dark green eyes, slightly parted lips that he wet with his tongue and large muscled shoulders that were almost as wide as the doorway. I didn’t want to admit it, but God damn he was attractive. There was a click and he stood up quickly, pocketing the lockpick and opening the door, hurrying me inside. I walked gingerly into the room which looked like a mixture between a study and a museum. There were large bookcases spanning the walls, sideboards boasting an array of intriguing items, all contained in secure glass cabinets, and finally a large leather-topped mahogany desk in the centre of the room. This place smelt old.

I heard Dean close the door behind him as he paced in after me, immediately scanning the room.

“Right,” he said, his tone stern and authoritative, “you take that side and I’ll take this side.” I nodded, immediately scouring every surface for our haunted item.

We must’ve been looking for around ten minutes when Dean called me over.

“Do you think that’s it?” He almost whispered, pointing to an item that I would definitely have described as a jade hairpin.

“Yup,” I whispered back, leaning slightly closer to him so I could get a better look. I felt him draw a sharp breath in before sighing slightly. “Can you pick this lock?” I asked, ignoring his antics and sticking to the business at hand.

“Yeah give me a second and I’ll get it open,” he stepped in front of me. Not wanting to get in his way, I walked into the centre of the room to where the desk was and leant against it, looking around at all of the bizarre items. Surely there are some other haunted things in here other than what we came for. My eyes eventually landed on an old gramophone.

“Oh that bitch is definitely haunted,” I mumbled to myself right as I heard Dean pop the lock on the glass cabinet. I watched as he wrapped the hairpin in a square of fabric before shoving it into his pocket and clicking the cabinet closed.

“Mission complete,” he said, a slight grin on his lips as he walked to stand in front of me. That grin fell from his face though when suddenly there were voices outside the door and keys rattling in the lock. We hadn’t planned for this. He looked at me in a panic.

“Kiss me,” I blurted.

“What?”

“I have a plan: Dean just fucking kiss m-” it was like I didn’t have to tell him twice before he had a hand in my hair and his lips were on mine. My heart started pounding and his mouth was hot against my cool skin. I hummed, sliding my fingers up his chest to grip the lapels on his jacket, pulling him further in towards me. Before I could get sucked into whatever it was that I was feeling, the study door flew open and two older gentlemen in brown tweed suits walked in, stopping in their tracks at the sight of us.

“Good heavens! What are you doing in here?” One of them exclaimed. Dean turned his head to look at the men, a smirk on his face and I couldn’t help but blush furiously at the sight of my lipstick that was now smeared on the corner of his lips.

“So sorry gentlemen, the door was unlocked so we just let ourselves in. I hope you don’t mind…” I watched, my eyes widening a little as he lifted his jacket slightly, showing the gun that was tucked into his belt. The men’s eyes also widened and they backed up towards the door.

“Yes, yes! Of course you did! Please, take your time. Just…” the man paused, his eyes darting to the precious items on his desk, “please try not to make a mess - it’s all I ask.” And with that they both left as quickly as they arrived, closing the door behind them. I let out a sigh of relief, looking up at Dean.

“Thank fuck… Dean I’m so sor-” I didn’t have a chance to think as Deans mouth was back on mine; rough and needy. I sat in shock for a second before being pulled back to reality when Dean held the side of my face, his fingers sliding up to tangle with my hair. I couldn’t stop myself from kissing him back, my mind racing and going blank simultaneously. His free hand ghosted up my exposed leg, touching so gently I could barely feel him. He soon decided though that gentle wasn’t working for him, and he gripped my thigh, his fingers digging into my soft flesh and making me gasp - his hands on my body were already working their magic as I couldn’t stop his name from leaving my lips.

“Dean…” I moaned. I can’t believe it - I had actually moaned his fucking name. He groaned into my mouth, obviously liking the sound of his name rolling off my tongue. Tearing his hand from my hair and gripping my other thigh, without warning and with rushed movements, he lifted me with ease so I was sat atop the desk.

“Wrap your legs around me darlin,” he said with a deep lustful tone against my lips. I whimpered involuntarily as I did as he said. He pried his mouth from mine and started to kiss elsewhere; my cheek, behind my ear… my neck. I ran my hands over his shoulders and up the back of his neck, running my nails over his scalp and making him shiver. I gripped his hair and yanked, forcing his head up. I locked eyes with him, his eyes no longer that brilliant green but now blown and black with lust. My own eyes were probably no different. His gaze fluttered from my eyes to my lips, and before I let him kiss me again I leant forward and pressed my lips to his throat, my tongue on his skin. It was his turn to moan as I reached a hand down and traced a finger up the hard weapon growing in his pants. His large hands moving from my thighs to my ass, gripping tighter than ever before as I seemed to be pushing all the right buttons. He slid me to the edge of the desk so my lace-covered intimates were pressing right against him, friction and pleasure commencing. I pulled my lips from his throat before tugging his face down to mine, instigating the finale. I spoke breathlessly over his lips, already craving the taste of him again.

“Are you gonna fuck me or what, Winchester?”

Dean practically growled, frantically fumbling with moving my dress aside. He hooked a shaky but skilled finger into my underwear, trying to pull it aside but the elastic wouldn’t allow for it. I began to tremble as his digits kept ghosting over my most sensitive area. He soon gave up with his first plan, and his second plan made my eyes roll into the back of my head. Dean pulled a large hunting blade from inside his jacket and slid the flat side against my skin and up my thigh until it was under the lace fabric. The ice cold metal made me shiver before he swiftly sliced the blade up towards him, cutting my panties to shreds as he repeated the motion on the other side.

“Fuck that was hot,” I panted as he put the blade away and captured my lips again, running his tongue over mine. I gasped suddenly when he dipped a finger inside me, curling it and caressing that soft, sensual cushion that was hidden away. When I moaned, he added a second finger, leaning away from me slightly so he could see what a mess I was beneath him. After a few moments of utter bliss, he pulled his fingers out, sticking them straight in his mouth.

“You’re fucking delicious,” he groaned, standing up straight to shimmy out of his jacket. I leant forwards, grasping his belt buckle, undoing it and pulling down his zipper. Slowly I reached in and pulled him out of his boxers, his rock hard manhood hot and heavy in my palm. He closed his eyes as I ran my thumb over the tip, guiding my hand up and down, up and down, again and again until he grabbed my wrist.

“Let go so I can fuck you ‘til you can’t walk,” he practically growled, making me weak. I leant back on my palms, watching as he lined himself up and then disappeared inside me in one earth shattering motion. My eyes rolled back and my lips parted as I locked my ankles instinctively behind his back, my heels catching on the gun still tucked into his pants. He started to set a rhythm as he fucked me into the desk, the wooden structure sliding back with every thrust he made. He had both hands firmly planted on the desk beside me and I gripped his forearms tight, my head starting to spin from the overwhelming pleasure. It didn’t help that Deans head had dropped into the crook of my neck and his heavy breathing was like music to my ears. He kissed the skin there softly, drawing a moan from my lips with the sudden tenderness. The pounding was speeding up, and he suddenly wrapped an arm around my waist, desperately trying to get closer - to get deeper. The need for release was building and I’d lost control of my voice; Deans name tumbling from my lips like a prayer. I pressed his lips to mine feverishly, his breath ragged as he managed to pant out;

“Shit, (Y/n) I’m so close… I’m gonna need you to cum for me…”

I whimpered at the sound of my name on his breathless lips and he let go of my waist, placing his large palm on my stomach and sliding it down until his thumb connected with that bundle of nerves.

“Shit-Dean-,” whining against his mouth I started to feel the tension in the pit of my stomach build - the feeling of him pounding into me and stretching me more than ever before combined with his thumb on the magic button was a recipe for a quick release. And Dean knew that. He was fucking me so hard now that the sound of wet skin on skin echoed around the room and the banging of the desk could surely be heard from out in the corridor- maybe even downstairs. That knot was tightening, and tightening, and tightening until:

“Fuck- Dean I’m gonna cum!”

“Fuck,” was all he managed to groan before I shattered around him, that knot snapping and sending me into probably the best orgasm I’ve ever had. As I tensed up I pulled Dean over the edge with me and he buried his face into my neck, breathing heavily and cursing occasionally.

We stayed like that for a few moments, regaining some clarity and returning to earth. He took a few deep breaths before standing up and pulling out, tucking himself back into his pants and doing up his belt as his cum dripped down my thigh. He couldn't seem to look away, even when he reached for his jacket on the floor and put it back on.

“Stay there,” he said finally, disappearing behind some shelves for a second before returning with a box of tissues. He helped me clean myself up, tossing the tissues in the bin as we attempted to get rid of the evidence.

“Are you ok?” He asked sincerely, concern in his eyes as he offered me his hand. I smiled a little bashfully, placing my palm in his.

“I hate to admit it but I feel great.”

He helped me down off the table, placing a hand on my waist to help steady me on my still trembling legs. We both stood in a comfortable silence for a few moments before realisation hit us both and we looked at each other with wide eyes.

”Oh shit - Sam!”

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Up Next:

Chapter 7

[keegansgf]

“modern! mizu hcs”

Okay finally becoming a BES writer after I convinced myself Mizu would sooooooo be a bassist. This is a combo of modern Mizu relationship hcs and band+uni hcs :3 warning, I hardly edited this because I'm tired. Also I WILL be taking Mizu requests

pairing: mizu x fem! reader

tags: domestic bliss…?, modern! au, bassist mizu, band! au, other characters mentioned 🗣️

Mizu is oddly good at home decorating? It’s not a hobby or interest of hers, in fact, she thinks her room is quite plain, but the cohesive colors and pretty decent-looking fake plants say otherwise. (She would love to buy real plants, but she frequently gets swept up with time to care for them properly.)

A lot of your apartment is decorated by her, but in the sense that you asked her if an item would work with house and she either liked or disliked it. She wouldn’t have really cared about shopping for home decor if not for you.

Mizu gets so upset when it’s hot out since she can’t go a day without wearing layers. The apartment (or her room at least) is cold 24/7 whether you like it or not

She tries to go grocery shopping with you as often as possible despite her lack of cooking abilities. Her memory is perfect, so you rarely ever need to make a grocery list! Plus, she likes doing simple things with you. Her childhood was chaotic, so the normalcy of shopping with someone she loves puts her at peace.

She survives off of snacks; it’s a terrible habit of hers, and she knows. It gets worse when either you’re not at home to cook, or she’s out somewhere else. Normally, she walks into the kitchen when she smells food or when you call for her, but she’ll completely forget to eat a real meal otherwise.

Though Mizu rarely (if not ever) has guests over, she makes sure your space and things are respected. If you’re out and your room door is open, she’ll close it. Any special glassware that you bought for personal use, like mugs? Nobody is allowed to touch them.

She’s gotten mad at Taigen for messing with your stuff before.

She isn’t much of a clean freak, but she’d prefer to have things kept orderly as often as possible. She enjoys splitting the chores with you, especially seasonal cleaning.

She’s extremely mindful of personal space. Even if she thinks you look adorable napping on the couch, the most she’ll do is kiss your face and fix your blanket. She’d love to join, really, but she’s afraid of waking you or making you uncomfortable. The last thing she wants to do is disrespect you.

She’s extremely touch-starved but doesn’t know how to make physical contact with you at first. She opened up when you first got together and started asking her for hugs, etc. Now, she loves the smallest of purposeful, or accidental touches, whether it’s brushing up against her, or her hand resting at your hip or waist while you’re out together.

Though you have separate rooms, you’ll sleep together on most nights (usually in your room– she finds your bed more comfortable, plus your room smells like you!)

The only time she heavily insists on staying in your rooms is if one of you gets sick, no exceptions. She hardly ever falls ill, but she’d rather not risk it. That doesn’t stop her from taking care of you, even if the only hot meal she can prepare is upgraded instant noodles or an easy, fool proof soup.

She has a horrible habit of making confining rules for herself, even if she’s on track with certain goals. You have to put hard work into easing her up to let her realize she has a lot more freedom than she thinks she has.

She doesn’t mind dates that you go out for, but she loves cute little dates at home. She doesn’t dislike showing you off, she just appreciates the private intimacy between you two. Even if she isn’t a great cook, she’s happy to help you measure or chop things while you talk.

Speaking of, acts of service is a huge love language of hers. If she can’t do something well, she’ll compensate for with something else that she’s better at to make your life easier.

"Band + Uni Hcs"

Mizu has a habit of not making herself visible on stage. It’s not completely intentional, but her usual spot on stage has harsher lights and this carries over to every single venue. The constant squinting was giving her headaches.

Following up with that, she’s so light-sensitive. It takes a good minute or two for her to adjust from a dark room to bright lights. At some point, she considered getting darker-tinted glasses but keeps putting it on the back burner.

She doesn’t dislike showing you off on stage, but she’d rather not be all the talk at school when it comes to your relationship. This doesn’t mean she lets your relationship go unnoticed though– she makes it very clear she’s taken and doesn’t participate in flirty behavior with any of the audience

Taigen however

The only reason she’s the band's bassist is because nobody else knows how to play. Taigen could play in theory, but he didn’t want to, plus, he thought bass was too easy.

He says that and can’t write a bassline like Mizu. He does write insane guitar solos though, and he can definitely make up something on the spot under pressure. That's actually how a couple of his solos were made.

Ringo is so good at budgeting that it’s genuinely impressive, but he’s not thrilled at how much of that budget cuts out good quality food to keep up with his uni payments. Luckily, Akemi made sure to let him know he was free to experiment with cooking at hers anytime! He's the only one with a spare key to her house. (more on that later)

Akemi knows how to play so many instruments, but none of which are typical band instruments. Her house has a pretty extensive collection of instruments, just no drums or electric string instruments aside from an electric harp. Her father didn’t really monitor her hobbies in her own house, so she played around with whatever piqued her interest first. She had been playing piano and koto since she was young, so she’s automatically the keyboardist (and vocalist,) but she pulls out an odd instrument here and there during a show for fun.

Taigen does have a podcast. The equipment was bought by Akemi with the hopes that he’d have a new hobby, but… sigh.

Ringo is an insanely good drummer, but he couldn't care less about having a music career. He agreed to join because all his friends were in a band– plus, they needed a drummer. Turns out, he’s a natural!

Mizu knows how to play drums too, and she’s great at it, but Ringo unintentionally disses her sometimes on her technique. He’s definitely said something like “Oh, wouldn’t it be easier to…?” She doesn't care much since she knows he means well. That does NOT stop her from continuing to catch accidental strays from him

Taigen and Akemi sort of live together? Akemi’s dad is a little sour about him not returning her home on time. That got his house key privileges revoked for three months. He’s welcome to stay by Akemi’s word, but she doesn’t keep a spare key for him, so he’ll have to be let in by her. Occasionally, he'll ask Ringo to let him in if he happens to be over to cook or practice at a different location, but if Akemis dad catches them, they're both getting an earful. That hasn't happened yet, luckily

Akemi has a couple of songs with a crazy keyboard solo that she has never in her life messed up. She worked through blood sweat and tears to perfect every solo she's written and has her muscle memory down.

Taigen is actually a really good guitarist, but he does make a fair amount of mistakes that he gets dogged on for– most mistakes being dropping his pick. He doesn’t really mess up chords, but a lot of their fans are waiting for that day to come (it'll never happen honestly)

Mizu could and does definitely show off on stage sometimes, but she won’t be pushed into doing a solo for the life of her.

Nobody can touch Mizus instruments except for you and Ringo (he’s a great bass and guitar tech somehow– he just has a lot of specific things he can pick up.)

Mizu, Taigen, and Akemi do separate gigs. Mizu does a little bit of everything– a lot of the bands she plays for are usually gothic rock or metal.

Ringo makes sure Mizu’s basslines can be heard with the drums while Taigen has a running joke of playing too loudly over her basslines during practice. Mizu isn't thrilled, to say the least.

Akemi gets extremely frustrated whenever she has mic problems. Honestly, she wouldn't mind a keyboard problem, but a mic problem is too much

Mizu’s bass wasn’t decorated until you came around– She wants something that reminds her of you on her instrument, so she had you make stickers of your lipstick print to slap on the body of her bass.

By no means are they a large band– they definitely are a local uni band that probably would get popular eventually, but nobody really cared enough about their popularity enough outside of their other hobbies

Speaking of, both Taigen and Mizu do Kendo

Akemi is a top-tier lyricist– she puts her interest in poetry to work ^_^

Taigen has an insanely expensive pedalboard along with a collection of pedals (From Akemis money)

Every day, Akemi considers using a keytar, but the music shops nearby don’t carry good quality keytars and she gets so upset when they aren’t comfortable enough to play.

Taigen has a set practicing schedule on his own, but he often gets held up with classwork. He also has a set sleep schedule but sometimes takes time out of rest to catch up with practice.

Eji tries to come to their shows, but he isn’t much of a fan of the noise level when it comes to live music. He doesn’t understand Mizu’s more alternative gigs, but he’s happy she’s able to get around. He used to lecture Mizu for not wearing earplugs to her shows when she first started performing.

Taigen and Akemi have their own shoegaze duet act together outside of the band– they're getting quite popular from that!

Mizu has written a few songs herself for fun after Akemi texted the group chat about a delay on lyrics due to writers block. She actually finished up recording those songs herself after you found her notes, and urged her to actually make and post those as songs.

[emeritusemeritus]

No Good Deeds [George Weasley x Reader]

Part 4

Part 1 2 3 4

Pairing: {George Weasley x Reader} mentions of previous Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: Set a few years after DH, loosely following Canon.

Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Mentions of death (Fred). Friends to lovers. Slow burn but mentions of kissing and eventual smut. Swearing. George calls us Angel. Drinking. Angst, sadness, grief. Smut. Tags will be updated with each chapter.

This one got a little spicy 🌹

You took a deep breath as you looked up at the clock on the wall, seeing that it was nearly 6pm, already feeling a little drained by your busy and productive day.

You'd woken early and had noticed that George had already left for work by the time you'd gotten up and so you got ready and walked to the cafe on the corner, grabbed a quick coffee and a pastry to go before walking towards the Friday market in the centre of town, shopping bag and grocery list in hand. You walked around the little market and picked up some fresh vegetables and a handmade apple pie that looked delicious, deciding to buy that rather than make your own from scratch. You'd decided on cooking a Sunday roast lamb dinner, though it was Friday, and had chosen to present it using a giant Yorkshire pudding, something you'd seen creeping up in popularity within the muggle world that you were certain Arthur would greatly enjoy.

You bought fresh carrots, parsnips and a fresh mint plant that you needed to make your own mint sauce and some flowers for the table before walking to the supermarket and purchasing a lamb joint from the butcher section and a few more essentials, including wine, before walking home with your purchases. You'd listened to muggle radio stations as you washed and prepped the veg, bouncing around as you sang along to the songs that you knew, intermittently stopping to grab a sip of your tea in between tasks. Around 12 you stopped what you were doing, happy with the progress you'd made and fixed your hair and clothes briefly before apparating to the shop to take George some lunch. The shop was busy but not unmanageable and you could see that Ron had stepped in to help him, working the till. George noticed you immediately and gave you a wide smile, finishing up with the customer he was helping before walking over to you, gesturing for you both to go to the office.

"I didn't know if you had any lunch," you said, handing him a little bag of stuff you'd picked up from the shop, "thought I could take some of your stuff back with me, give you a bit more time tonight."

"You're too good to me," George says with a wink, enthusiastically pulling out the food from the bag, looking as if he was almost salivating at the sight.

You'd spent his lunch break together, preparing yourselves for tonight as he ate and then you'd apparated back with a bundle of his things that he had pulled earlier that morning, stuff that he knew would make it seem that he was living with you completely.

You checked the lamb and made the mint sauce quickly, peeled some more potatoes just in case and then set to cleaning. Once everywhere was clean, you went into George's room and brought out all of his things and moved them into your bedroom. His books went on the side of your bed, a pair of pyjamas were laid out on the dresser and you'd moved some of your girlier accessories into the spare bedroom so make it seem like you'd decorated up a guest bedroom. You stripped George's bed, throwing the bedding in the wash and replaced the sheet with a set of your own spare sets, so it again looked like a guest bedroom. You set up a little decorative area in your bedroom with some of George's things, adding them into the shelves and then had placed more of his things into the bathroom, along with placing his aftershave next to your perfume on the dresser.

Once you were happy with the flat, you took a minute to sit with a drink before finishing up the meal prep. You then took a shower, did your hair and makeup and got dressed, ready for the actual cooking, seeing that it was late afternoon already.

At 6:17pm, George apparated into the living room and his eyebrows immediately shot up, looking around.

"Wow Angel, looks like I've moved in," he says, reaching out for your hand as he pulls you close.

"I'd say so," you laughed, allowing him to pull you in. When his thumb caught on the stones of your engagement ring, he smiled and focused his gaze on the ring, seeing it on your finger.

"Looks great," he says, gesturing around you, "as do you."

"Oh Mr Weasley, you charm me," you joked, pulling away from him with a laugh as you smoothed out your skirt.

"Well future Mrs Weasley, that is my job," he smirks, twirling your around in his arms, making a quiet squeal fall from your lips at the unexpected motion.

"I thought you owned a joke shop?" You retorted, causing him to snort.

"I do, yet it appears you are the one with all the jokes tonight."

"Then perhaps you should make me a business partner," you jest, seeing George's smile growing.

"I intend to my love," he says smoothly, with a wiggle of his eyebrows as he stops spinning you, both of you looking at each other with a smile.

"You should get ready, they'll be here soon," you saw quietly, unable to look away from George's smiling face.

Fifteen minutes later and George is showered, dried and dressed, both of you waiting in the kitchen for his parents to arrive. Molly preferred not to apparate, having mentioned before that it left her feeling horribly nauseous no matter how many times she'd tried and so Arthur had offered to drive them in the car, muggle style.

"I'll go," George says, placing a hand onto your shoulder to calm you as he walks past you to open the door, having heard the telltale knock moments earlier.

"Oh y/n dear, how wonderful to see you!" She says, bounding over to you with a wide smile on her face, pulling you in for a hug as soon as she could reach you.

"Hello Mrs Weasley," you say warmly, holding on to her tightly. She looked very pretty with a flower beret in her hair, clearly having made an effort tonight in her beautifully crafted green crochet shawl and dress.

"Oh please, I've told you to call me Molly for years!" She laughs, stepping aside and looking around, "what a lovely place you have!"

"We have," George corrects her, stepping through into the lounge with you, Arthur following behind. You embrace and greet each other warmly as George explains to Molly that you two are living together.

"Oh well that is wonderful news!" She says, clapping her hands together, "you didn't tell me you were an item!" She says, smacking George on the arm as she looks between your both. He doesn't even flinch and simply laughs, shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh well done son!" Arthur says, clapping George on the shoulder warmly before sending you a special smile.

"Would anyone like a drink?" You offer, listing off a few things you have on hand. You go and fetch them both a drink and quickly check on the food before diving into conversation, listening to Molly's explanation of what her oldest children were up to.

"Well I have to say, that was absolutely delicious," Arthur says, placing down his cutlery and sitting back in his chair, rubbing his hand over his full stomach, "amazing what these muggles come up with isn't it, a giant Yorkshire pudding!"

You can't help but smile at his reaction, pleased that the novelty had gone down a treat. You catch George's eye as Molly compliments your cooking and he looks proud, a gentle, honest smile tugging at his lips.

"So how long have you been together, very sneaky of you both!" Molly says with a warm smile, pointing a playful accusatory finger between you and George.

"About six months," George says effortlessly, sticking to the little story you'd both created. He clears his throat and looks at you with a determined glance before turning back to his parents.

"We were going to wait until after dinner but now seems as good'a time as any," George says smoothly before reaching for your left hand, which you place in his, ring side up.

The sparkle immediately catches Molly's eye and she gasps loudly, causing Arthur to jump up in his seat.

"I've asked her to marry me," he says, looking into your eyes with a smile that you reciprocate.

"And I said yes," you replied, smiling warmly at him.

Molly let's out an animated squeal and rushes from her chair to envelope you both into a hug, her body bouncing in elation as Arthur beams with pride, his hands raising into the air in celebration.

"Oh how wonderful!"

"We must celebrate, now, everyone raise your glasses!" Arthur says proudly, raising his own glass of daisyroot. Molly scrambles to reach for her glass and you and George take hold of your own, raising and clinking them together in a round of cheers. The moment feels real and you don't even question it, allowing yourself to enjoy the moment with your smile beaming across your face.

Molly immediately bursts out into wedding planning, mentioning that her own dress was put aside for Ginny but she had a beautiful hair beret that you could use as your something borrowed and she could always try and convince Muriel to let you borrow her tiara even though she'd been rude about it with Fleur. You laughed and nodded the whole way through the conversation as George and Arthur had broken off into their own as Arthur proudly tapped George on the back, telling him outright how proud he was of him.

You cleared away with plates with a flick of your wand and then brought out the warm apple pie with a selection of custard and icecream, depending on everyone's preference. More drinks were had and by the end of the pudding you were beginning to feel a little tipsy, especially when George pulled out a bottle of fire whiskey to celebrate with.

You all congregated back into the lounge after the meal had finishes, laughing and drinking as Molly told stories of the kids when they were younger. Fred was mentioned a few times and initially it had felt like a kick to your gut but you pushed through and as the drinks flowed, so did the conversation.

"Goodness gracious look at the time! Arthur, we'd better get home," Molly says, tapping Arthur on the chest. He nods dutifully, sinking the last of his fire whiskey and begins to stand, immediately wobbling until he falls back onto the sofa. George turns to cast a look at you and you immediately understand what he's trying to communicate; there's no possibility he'd be able to drive home having drank so much and apparating would be incredibly dangerous for him due to his intoxication, which meant they would have to stay with you for the foreseeable.

George had managed to convince his parents to stay after their lengthy protests and you'd gladly offered them the 'guest bedroom' to sleep in.

George apparated back to the Burrow to collect a few things they might need after a lengthy list that Molly had reeled off with clear instructions on where everything way and exactly what he'd be looking for.

Whilst George was gone you made a cup of tea for everyone and began prepping their room for the night, ensuring that everything was neat and clean, with no hint of George's things being crammed into the room. George arrived back not too long after with their things and helped to get his parents settled into their room, mainly helping Molly get Arthur into something comfier and then into bed.

You'd had a fabulous night and it had gone so much better than you'd hoped, feeling firmly included and welcomed into the family even more than you already had been, even if it wasn't technically real. George came out of their room a few minutes later and you both couldn't help but giggle at the turn of events, never having seen Arthur so inebriated before. He was a joyful drunk, telling stories and little quips that we're actually rather interesting and the new side you'd seen of him only greatened your fondness for him. George came and sat next to you on the sofa now that it was just you and him and he immediately placed his arm around your back, pulling you into him.

"Well, complete success I'd say," he says quietly, keeping hold of you as you melt into his side, keeping his voice low just incase his parents were still awake. He reached for the television remote and flicked it on to a random channel, not really paying attention though it was nice to have a little background noise.

"Such a good night," you said fondly with a small smile, trying to suppress a yawn as you cuddled into him, watching the screen.

"That meal was delicious," he says, beginning to stroke your shoulder where his hand rests, "I'd marry you tomorrow now I know what your roast dinners taste like."

"Well lucky you," you say with a cheeky smile, "maybe not tomorrow though, I'm rather busy."

"Oh really?" He says with a playful tone, playing along.

"Yes, you see I'm head potioneer for this little joke shop in Diagon Alley, you've probably never heard of it," you say, "well their stores of potion products are low and it's my wonderful job to brew more, all day tomorrow. So I'm very sorry but I can't marry you tomorrow, much too busy."

"Well isn't that a shame," he says quickly, "perhaps I should have a word with this boss of yours, he sounds tyrannical, working you as he is."

"Oh absolutely, he's a menace, Mussolini in brown tweed."

George immediately lunges for you with your last comment and you can't help but laugh, trying your hardest to keep quiet as he grabs you and rolls you about on the sofa. Only when you pull apart does he pause and smile at you widely, his face lighting up with his smile.

"Want to go to bed?"

The very words make your stomach roll a little in nervous excitement, though you try desperately not to show it on your face. You simply nod and offer a warm but mildly fake smile before you stand and ensure everything is locked and switched off.

Though you and George had shared a bed only a few nights ago, this was entirely different and a nervous anticipation consumed you, knowing you'd both be heading to bed at the same time, both of you aware that this was happening.

"Need the toilet? I'm going to get undressed," he says, gesturing with a nod towards the en-suite in your bedroom.

"No, you go on," you said with a smile, walking over to the dresser to grab some pyjamas. You heard the door close and as you pulled open the drawer, an immediate dilemma faced you. What would you wear to bed?

You looked down at the various pyjamas in your drawer and felt frozen with choice, not knowing how to proceed as the different materials stared back at you, each of them seeming to convey something. There were a few pairs of oversized, frumpy sets that you mainly wore in winter or when you were needing comfort but they weren't exactly 'nice' nor would they look very attractive on, most of them having some sort of embarrassing pattern or cheesy slogan printed on the front. You didn't want George to see you in something so frumpy and shapeless, looking like you'd made absolutely no effort on yourself but the alternative seemed much too drastic too. There were a few nicer sets of lace and silk in sensual colours that you used to wear for Fred but wearing one of those would send a clear message to George that you didn't feel was appropriate, or it would look like you were trying too hard. You dig through the drawer, thankfully still hearing the water running in the bathroom and tried to find a compromise. Should you wear a bra? Everything felt so confusing.

You realised that you could no longer hear the water running and reached for a cotton set at the bottom, trying to make it seem like you hadn't spent his entire shower agonising over this simple choice. It was a simple camisole top with long bottoms, dark red and black check with just a little lace on the neckline, comfy but attractive.

You passed him on his way out of the shower, seeing the tips of his hair still damp and his pyjamas clinging to his slightly moist skin, hugging the wider parts of his chest and shoulders deliciously.

You washed off your makeup, splashing cold water on your face for good measure as you tried to calm your racing thoughts, knowing that you were being ridiculous. He probably wouldn't even see you if it was dark. You put on your pyjamas, throwing your dress in the hamper and took one look at yourself before turning off the light and stepping out into the bedroom. The lamp was on, dimly illuminating the room and you could see George reading in bed, covers pushed up to his hips as he concentrates on the page he's reading. He looks up at you though you don't look back at him as you take off your jewellery, leaving your engagement ring on, feeling his gaze burning into your side.

It feels more than awkward, peeling back the covers and slipping into your own bed now that George was already settled on one side.

"Is this okay?" George asks and it takes you a moment to realise he means the lamp.

"Yeah of course," you reply absently but politely as you sink down in bed, pulling the covers up to your waist. There's a few moments of silence that feels in between awkward and comfortable, knowing that your awkwardness stemmed from your own anxiety whereas George probably found the silence comforting as he read his book.

"Okay sorry," George says with a bit of a huff, marking his page with whatever he was using as a bookmark, a chocolate frog card by the looks of it, and placed the book into his lap, turning to you. You gazed up at him, leaning forward a little in concern at his sudden outburst. "How do you look so good in pyjamas?"

Your mind is completely empty, astounded by his words. His face had softened significantly as he looked upon your shocked face, a gentle chuckle passing his lips. "Sorry, it's just, no ones going to believe you're married to me when you're so hot."

You were hallucinating, you were almost certain of it. Those words had never come from George Weasley before and your mind started to spiral whilst your face remained blank, heart racing in excitement. You knew that the only way to reply was to fight it with humour, not able to believe that he was being serious.

"Shove off, I'm comfy," you replied, though your words felt hollow, almost like they weren't actually coming out of your own mouth.

"I'm being serious," he says chuckling with a shake of his head. "Only you could make pyjamas look yule ball worthy."

"How much have you had to drink?" You laugh, playfully nudging him, still trying to deflect his words.

He simply smiles at you in return, "very little actually, dad drank most of it." You both giggle a little at the thought of Arthur snoring away in the spare room, George's room.

"Well you're not so bad yourself Weasley," you tease, your gaze flicking to his bulging arms for just a second, seeing that the T-shirt was just slightly too tight around his biceps.

There's a brief moment when everything seems to pause and as if in slow motion, George leans over and presses his lips to yours, only hesitating for a moment as he looks as your face, searching for any hesitation, in which he finds none. Your lips meet his and its like an electric current is passing between you both, igniting something inside you that has you pressing into him and fuelling the kiss. The clattering of the book is a distant noise to you as the kiss deepens, George's hand wrapping around your jaw line as he pulls you in, his tongue slipping out and caressing your own. You feel weightless, breathless, like you're floating, hardly even aware of your hands as they reach out for him, feeling the soft material of his T-shirt under your fingertips as you seek purchase on his shoulders, a fire burning between you.

Clothes are shed with desperation, either of you able to fight the blistering urge to feel the other completely. His lips are all over you, his touch only fuelling the desire that consumes you, leaving you unable to think clearly as you seek out his touch. It's raw and primal, no time for thinking or hesitation as you melt into each other, passion and arousal overwhelming everyone of your senses. He's hot to the touch and in the back of your mind you can feel your own heat coursing through your body, feeling more out of control than you ever hand but at the same time, feeling completely safe and right. When he slips inside you for the first time, it's all you can do not to cry out, the pleasant stretch and overwhelming relief of the sensation is the only thing you can think of. Your glad that he'd been quick to cast a silencing charm around the room as you mom out, unable to hold back any longer as your hips meet his, desperate to keep him inside of you. He groans out again, moaning with abandon as his hips only increase in pace, seeing your own body contorting in pleasure, working with his movements to create the most sensual scene and feeling he could fathom. When his hand slips to your exposed breasts, fingers plucking as your hardened nipples, you cry out his name ecstasy and are blessed with an almost whimpering moan from him as his thrusts get harder, watching as your breasts bounce in time with his thrusts, your body working to double your efforts chasing after the fullness he provides. Your walls begin to clench as the pleasure rises, white hot heat of bliss overtaking you, feeling his long and skilful fingers toying with your breasts, your pussy stretched around his perfect cock that hits every pleasure filled spot inside you and your throbbing clit rubbing sinfully against his happy trail with every deep thrust. It's too much and not enough all at the same time and you cry out his name over and over as your orgasm washes over you, hardly noticing his own climax until you slowly come down from your high, no longer feeling the force of his thrusts as he lazily slips in and out of you slowly in the come down. There's a warmth from deep inside you that is both intoxicating and comforting, knowing that the evidence of his pleasure had coated your insides, as if he'd claimed you as his own.

You're both breathless, panting against each other as your sweat covered bodies meld together, George's arms barely holding him up anymore as he slowly sinks down, putting more of his weight on to you that you welcome. You're still connected in every sense, your arms clutched around his shoulders, legs linked over hip hips and his now softened cock still inside of you. You reach up just enough to kiss his forehead where it is nestled into your neck, trying to prevent any awkwardness from slipping in to the blissful moment. His head turns downwards and he presses fluttering kisses over your chest, kissing each breast and trailing upwards until he kisses you on the lips with a sweetness that is a stark contrast to the burning passion of before. When he looks up at you, you feel breathless all over again. His eyes are so filled with emotion that it truly makes your heart flutter, seeing yourself reflected in his eyes, a look that you'd never seen crossing his gorgeous features.

With one last kiss, he slowly pulls away as your limbs disconnect from him and though you feel truly satisfied, you can't help but feel a little empty as his soft cock slowly slips out of you, no longer bringing you warmth or fullness. There's nothing said, no words needed as he pulls you into his still sweaty chest, unfazed at his nudity as his arms wrap around you, a kiss pressed to your hair as you lie there in utter contentment.

You realise George had fallen asleep a little while later and you attempt to slip out of his arms undetected as you make your way to the en-suite, careful not to wake him. You pee for good measure and consider showering but don't quite feel up to it right now. When you look in the mirror, you see a beaming smile greeting you in your reflection, not having noticed that you were doing so. You realised then how utterly happy you were, feeling more content than you had in so long.

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[deanwritings]

The Guest House - Chapter 10

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: 3,180

A/N: Know it's been a while and appreciate everyone's patience!

It takes a little over an hour for Dean to finish up the two cars. Having been taught your lesson, you handed Dean the correct tools he requested, though he did remember to say “please” each time he asked. 

From time to time he would explain what he was working on, not that it meant much to you, but you were starting to pick up on a few things, which you were hoping to take home with you so you wouldn’t feel so helpless the next time you went to get an oil change.

“So how did you even meet Rick?” You lean against a pillar as Dean rolls out from the Stingray, shutting off his head lamp as he stands. He lets out a chuckle at your question. 

“I’ve actually known him most of my life.” Dean gently rests against the hood, crossing his arms. 

You just raise your eyebrows, hoping he’ll elaborate. 

“My dad used to come here all the time growing up, and so did Rick.” He continues. “They were around the same age and they kept in touch as they got older. My dad used to bring us up here when we were kids. I loved it, but Sam and my mom would spend our visits up here swimming at the lake, but my dad and I would be sitting in those bleachers.” He points out the windowed garage door to the grand stands.

“It would be July and it could be 120 degrees between the heat and the cars, but there was nowhere else we’d rather be.” He reminisces with a smile but he keeps his eyes on his oil-stained boots. 

“Rick is cut from the same cloth. He stopped coming around as I got older, got busy with his fancy life in the city, but when he ended up buying this place, he reached out to my dad and I, would get us in the ‘VIP’ suite, which were just his seats. He was excited when he found out I started working in Bobby’s shop, and then a couple years later he called me up to take a look at a vintage car he was going to buy. Said he had hired a guy but didn’t trust his report, so needed someone he could count on. I was just twenty-one, but he trusted every word I said, and I’ve been working for him ever since.”

You smile across at Dean, not that he sees it. Whether intentionally or not, Dean was opening up to you, more of him becoming unraveled. And there’s one question you’ve been wanting to ask him for weeks now, and you finally felt comfortable enough with him to post it.

“And what’s the deal with you and Nick?” You ask quietly, nervous that you may be overstepping, but hell, he brought you to a weekend away at his mom’s house. You were well past acquaintance status. 

You think back to that night at Max’s, your first week here, when you had gotten cozy with the blonde-haired beau before Dean had stepped in. Before Dean gave a shit about you, he did that night. And you always wondered why.

Dean takes in a deep breath, keeping his eyes downcast. 

“It started back in high school. It was just teenage stuff; he was the football star, I played basketball. We were both really competitive and it was just a lot of stupid ego stuff. But when Sammy started high school my senior year, Nick took an interest in him, and decided to make Sam’s life hell because of me. He bullied the poor kid almost every day. So I took it upon myself to make sure he never bothered Sam again.” A smirk slowly begins to rise. “Got suspended for a week because of it and almost wasn’t allowed to walk graduation, but it was worth it.”

“And what exactly did you do?” His eyes flash up to you, a devilish gleam in them. 

“I may or may not have rigged his airbags to go off when he turned the radio on one day after school.”

You blanch.

“You can do that?” Dean nods.

“But how did they know that was you? Even if he suspected you, there would have been no way to prove it.”

“Because I was waiting for him in the parking lot and after they went off, I pulled him out of the car and told him if he ever bothered Sammy again I would cut his brakes and make it look like an accident.” Dean doesn’t flinch at the threat, and neither do you. You had two younger siblings, both brothers. You understood. Being the older sibling also meant being the protector, and you had stepped in from time to time when your brothers needed it. 

Dean looks back to you.

“That was the end of it though. Never bothered me or Sam again.” He wipes his hands against each other before shoving them in the pockets of his coveralls. 

“Well I guess I really do owe you for saving me from ‘the town’s biggest asshole’ then.” You smile at him, using his own words from that night. Words you had thrown back at him in rash rage. 

“I would say so.” He agrees, pushing off the car and closing the gap between you. Your eyes stalk the movement, not missing a step until he stops an arm’s length from you. His eyes have that devilish sparkle that twists your stomach in the best way.

“And what exactly do you have in mind?” You challenge, standing up straighter even though your knees feel weak. 

“How about dinner?” His voice is low, shared only between the two of you even though there’s no one else around. 

Your eyes widen.

“You’re asking me out?” You gawk, practically breathless. His lips slowly curve up and he doesn’t break your gaze.

“I’m saying you can make it up to me by taking me out to dinner.” Your face and stomach drop, irritation rising like bile up your throat.

“Are you serious?” You cross your arm and drop your hip. 

“Sure am, sweetheart.” He purrs. You respond with a heavy breath out of your nose.

“I literally just bought you lunch the other day.” You snap. “Explain to me why it’s my responsibility to keep feeding you?” You bite, ignoring the fact that you had bought him lunch the other day as a thank you for taking you hiking. But he didn’t need to be reminded of that. 

Instead of waiting for an answer, you side step from him and walk towards the exit.

“Where are you going?” Dean calls from behind you. You turn on your heel and stare him down.

“Aren’t you done?” You huff, crossing your arms again. “I was headed back to the car.” You throw your thumb over your shoulder.

Dean just annoyingly smiles back at you.

“We’re not taking the truck.” You raise your eyebrows.

“What are we going to walk back?” You retort. 

Dean turns on his heel in response and walks further into the garage.

You wait a second, then two, to see if he’s going to turn around, but he doesn’t. You tap your foot, but Dean still doesn’t turn back.

You drop your arms with a heavy breath and start after him, following him a few stalls down until you see him leaning into the open door of a shining black car, the body sleek and clearly not from this century.

“Is this another one of Rick’s?” You step up to the hood, tempted to reach out and run your fingers down the polished onyx. 

“Nope,” Dean’s voice is muffled through the windshield as he rummages around inside.

“Can you answer a question that doesn’t require me to continue asking you questions?” You scowl, starting to have enough of this little game of his. 

His laugh just echoes as he pushes out of the car and rests on the open door.

“Remember I told you about my baby?” You squint your eyes, the conversation ringing a vague bell. 

You suck in a breath. 

“Your car.” You snap your finger then point it at him and it comes back to you, remembering how absurd you thought it was when Dean shared he called his prized car “baby.” 

Dean raises his eyebrows with a smile, opening his arms wide.

“Y/N, meet Baby. Baby, meet Y/N.” You frown at his exaggerated antics.

“Please don’t make me say “hi” to the car.” You groan, wondering exactly how much Dean loves this car. 

Dean pats the hood and leans in.

“Don’t worry, Baby. She can be nice when she wants to be.” He coos. Your eyes bulge and mouth gapes. 

“Should I be concerned about you? Is this what happens when you spend your life around car fumes?” You cross your arms, half kidding. 

Dean just looks back at you with a grin. 

“Get in the car will ya?” He orders before he dips down and plops into the driver’s seat and closes his car.

You stare at him for a moment through the windshield as he fiddles with something. 

Aunt Rose, help me. You say up a silent prayer before you walk around the car and take a seat onto the white leather bench. 

The inside is immaculate; conditioned, tan upholstery, a shining steering wheel, and a dashboard expertly restored to its former glory.

You run a hand along the felt ceiling, the fibers tickling your fingertips. 

“You really built this car?” You ask in awe as you continue to take in the refurbished wonder. 

Dean presses a button on a clicker attached to his visor, and the garage door in front of you begins to rise, sun chasing in through the windshield. 

“Sure did,” Dean turns the key in the engine, the car roaring to life before Dean flicks down the gear shift into drive. “Got her in a scrap yard for a couple hundred bucks, then would use my paychecks from the shop to buy her new parts. Took me over three years. Which is why I keep her here.” Dean slowly pulls out of the garage, waiting for the car to clear before he hits the clicker again, shutting the door behind us.  

You smile out the window as you slowly make your way down the empty race track towards the exit.

“If you love her that much why not just drive her all the time?” You play with the leather armrest that connects to the door. “Seems like a waste to just leave it in a garage all the time.” You muse.

You don't have many mantras in life, but one you strongly believed in not waiting to enjoy something. Your parents had saved an expensive bottle of champagne for you as a graduation present. They had won it in an auction years before and never had a good reason to open it and figured celebrating your matriculation would be the right time to finally pop it open. By the time they did, it had gone bad and your dad shook his head as he poured it down the drain. 

“Cause I ain’t risking a dent or scratch in her after all the time I put into fixing her up.” Dean waves at the gate agent as you pass through the exit, and you give him a smile as well.

“I’m just saying. What’s the point of having a beautiful car like this if you’re just going to keep her hidden away? You’re like an overprotective father.” You chuckle as you look back out the window at the passing scenery of bare trees and dead grass. March truly was an ugly month. 

You look over to Dean, catching his gaze for a moment before it returns to the road, a smirk his only answer. 

Without a word, Dean leans his foot heavily onto the gas pedal, the needle on the speedometer quickly climbing as the outdoor world begins to blur by.  

His heart jumps into his throat and his smile grows as the car continues to pick up speed. He wants to glance at Y/N, see her reaction, but he’s not reckless, not enough to take his eyes off the straightaway as the Impala ticks past 80 MPH.

He hears you take in a breath, but it’s not a gasp, doesn't sound scared or shocked, and he’s hoping you’re feeling the same excitement that he is as he shoots down the street, the engine rumbling through the front seat as he darts down his own personal racetrack that he’s driven down more times than he can count. 

Which is why he takes his foot off the gas, letting the needle fall before they come up to the bend that takes them back into town. 

It was only a few seconds, mere heartbeats, but it always makes Dean feel alive. 

Once the car is at a manageable speed, he peeks over to you – your hand is braced against the door, but your smile is wide in a silent laugh. He swallows at the sight, a lump growing in his throat before he looks back to the road, taking the turn at an easy speed.

“I know it doesn’t quite compare after Rick took you through the racetrack today, but every time I take Baby out of the garage, I’ve gotta run her.” He beams, triumph heavy in his chest as he shows off his pride and joy, feeling a pure sense of excitement that he truly hasn’t felt in years. 

Dean looks back over to you, your hair swishing as you shake your head. 

“No,” you breathe out with a smile. “That was great.” 

Dean releases a deep breath through his nose he didn’t realize he was holding. Almost like he was worried about your answer.

“Still think you should take her out more.” 

Dean just smirks, revving the engine again and letting the car fly. 

After Dean brings them to a roadside burger stand for lunch, they’re back at Mary’s house. Y/N had excused herself for a shower, and Mary and Dean lounge in the living room, the sun setting behind the windows, while Dean scrolls through social media on his phone. 

“Nice day out?” Mary asks from the couch across from him, a book in her lap.

Dean takes a breath and puts his phone down, hearing her tone. The same tone she had in the kitchen this morning when she was inquiring more about the woman he brought home.

Not taking the bait, he simply replies, “Good. Managed to get all of Rick’s cars done in just about two hours. He’s all ready for tomorrow.” Mary just rolls her chartreuse eyes. 

“And Y/N?” She asks bluntly. “How was your day with her?” 

He knows what his mother is fishing for. Outside of the odd high school fling, Lisa was the only woman he had ever brought home. And here he was, with Y/N, some random girl he met only a few weeks ago, brought here by his ex, showering just upstairs.

The thought lights something in his eyes as his gaze leaves the living room, thinking of the blue and white bathroom he was so familiar with, the lengthy standup shower, enough room for two, where Y/N was probably lathering soap all over —-

“Dean.” Mary chirps, almost like she can see her son’s thoughts on his face. 

“What?” He snaps, heat flushing his neck and cheeks, feeling like a caught child. 

Mary just sighs and moves her book aside, leaning forward and resting her arms on her jean-clad knees. 

“Don’t even start, mom.” He can see the conversation she wants to have. 

“You’re the one who brought her here.” She counters. He rubs a hand down his face and leans back against the cushion.

“Look, I’m just trying to be friendly. She and I started off on a really bad foot, and I’m stuck with her for the month. Also, when I invited her, I never thought she’d actually say yes. I was more being polite.” Which was true, but doesn’t change the fact that when he got her text that she was going to join him for the weekend, his stomach flipped. 

“She just quit her job and lost her aunt.” He continues on thoughtlessly. “She’s spending a month in a place where she knows no one. I’m just trying to be nice.” He sighs, crossing his arms across his chest. 

A soft, but sad smile graces Mary’s lips, and she leans back.

“Well then, I’m very proud of you.” Dean starts to smile, but it doesn’t fully form. He looks across at his mother. “What?” She offers him back a similar smile.

“Just sounds like the two of you may have come together at the right time is all.” Dean frowns as he hears the telltale creak of pipes as the water upstairs shuts off.  

“What does that mean?” He huffs. 

“Well it sounds like she’s going through some big life changes, and so are you.” She offers gently. 

“Oh here we go.” Dean rolls his eyes, his fists tightening.

“Huff and pout all you want, Dean.” Mary chastises her oldest son, who was always the most stubborn of her two boys. “But I think it’s nice that you two found each other when you're both going through a difficult time.” Dean fights the urge to roll his eyes again, knowing if he does, it will draw another chide from his mother. 

“Fine,” he concedes. “It’s nice.” He placates his mother, hoping to end the conversation.

He’s not a charity case. He’s going through a divorce, just like 50% of married people. He’s not the first and he’s certainly not the last. He doesn’t need her pity. Or yours. Not that you’ve offered it. 

Soft footsteps echo overhead, Y/N likely padding down the hallway back to her room. Probably in nothing but a towel. 

“It’s just nice to see you happy again, Dean. Been a while since I’ve seen it.” Dean unfurls at her words, his body slumping with a sigh. 

He’s being a dick. To his mother. 

What an asshole.

He runs his hand down his face again. 

Mary stands and steps around the coffee table, stopping in front of her sullen son. She rests a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“Don’t fight something nice just because you don’t think you deserve it.” She gives him a squeeze. After a moment, she steps away with a pat to his shoulder before she goes.

“I’m going to run to the store and pick up dinner. Any requests?” Dean opens his mouth. “Besides pie.” Mary beats him to it. 

“All good.” Mary nods her head.

“I’ll be back in a little bit.” This time, Dean nods, quietly listening as Mary grabs her keys from the kitchen before stepping out the front door. 

He hears Y/N move about upstairs again as Mary’s car comes to life in the driveway.

But Dean just relaxes on the couch, rests his head back, and closes his eyes.

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 

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Career Day Crush - Bob Floyd x Teacher!OC

A/N: I was inspired to write this while prepping pictures of pilots for my class at work today and now, here we are, taking on two multipart fics at once.

pairing:  Bob Floyd x Teacher!OC (can easily swap her name for a y/n situation)

warnings/content: Bob being awkward and cute, Hangman's son being just like Hangman, Hangman as a dad, secondhand embarrassment.

word count: 1.8k

“Alright, class, can we all thank Sadie’s dad for coming in to talk to us about being a firefighter? What an interesting career choice we could make!” You forced a smile as you politely clapped your hands for your guest speaker, the crowd of 7 year olds in front of you following suit, clapping and smiling as they chattered about how cool Sadie’s dad was for driving a fire truck. 

You looked down at your agenda for the day and read the hastily handwritten list you’d prepared for yourself earlier that morning to see who, if anyone, would be joining your class next. You nodded your head as you read the name and smiled sweetly at little Boone in the front row of the room, laughing softly. 

“Next,  we’re going to hear from Boone’s dad, Lieutenant Seresin about what it takes to be a fighter pilot for the US Navy!” You said with a somewhat forced enthusiasm to your voice, tired of trying to be the hype man for each parent as they came in to share what they did for a living to their child’s friends and classmates. You smiled warmly as Boone’s father, Jake walked in, dressed fully in his flight suit, his helmet tucked under his arm for emphasis. You noticed a second man, similar in height to Jake, follow in behind him. This man had lighter hair, worn longer than Jake’s and combed back into a military approved style, wire-framed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and a soft, shy smile as he waved to your class. His cobalt blue eyes were almost breathtaking as they wandered in your direction. As he met your gaze, he gave you a soft smile before folding his hands in front of him as he stood beside Jake.

“Hi guys!” Jake said with a friendly smile, waving to the group of eager faces watching him, “I’m Lieutenant Jake Seresin, and this, is Lieutenant Robert Floyd. We both fly in the US Navy, but we have two different jobs. I’m the pilot, so I actually fly the plane itself, but, my friend Lieutenant Floyd is what we call a Weapons Systems Officer, or WSO for short. He sits in the backseat of a two-seater plane and makes sure the lasers and missiles and all that fun stuff back there is working properly when we need it to.”

Lieutenant Floyd nodded his head in agreement as Jake spoke, before smiling at the children himself and beginning to talk.

“You might be wondering why we have names written on our helmets, these are called our callsigns, callsigns are how we talk to one another in the air when we need to. My callsign is Bob,” Lieutenant Floyd gestured to his helmet as he showed it to the glass, smiling proudly as the children ooh’ed and ahh’ed over it. Jake held up his own helmet as well, gesturing to the font splayed across the top.

“My callsign is Hangman, like the spelling game you guys might play in class sometimes!”, He explained enthusiastically. 

You had to hand it to Jake, he had certainly captivated your students better than any other speaker of the day had. Maybe it was his charm and charisma, or the fact that his job was a little more unique than being a firefighter, or a teacher or a truck driver. You couldn’t figure out what it was, but something about him and his friend had completely gained control of your normally somewhat unruly group of children, certainly better than you could have done at this point in a Friday afternoon.

As the two men wrapped up their career day presentation for your class, fielding any and all questions your curious students had for them for the last thirty minutes, you couldn’t help but notice Lieutenant Floyd catching your eye, as if he was stealing shy glances over at you as he and Jake stood at the front of the room. When the bell rang to dismiss the children, Boone raced up to his dad and Lieutenant Floyd, giving them each a big hug.

“Dad, Uncle Bobby, that was great!” The little boy, a carbon copy of his father in terms of looks and determined, fiery attitude, said with a grin that nearly made his whole face vanish.

“Awesome, buddy, I’m glad we could come talk to you and your friends!” Jake smiled as he put his arms around the boy, ruffling his hair. Lieutenant Floyd knelt down to him and smiled giving him a hug as well.

“Any time, little guy!” he said with a smile.

You approached the two men and smiled, offering your hand out for them to shake, your way of showing thanks to them for taking time out of their Friday to come talk to your class. You smiled as Jake stood up to his feet, shaking your hand firmly as he returned the smile.

“Thank you so much for coming out today, both of you. It really means a lot to the kids. They really enjoyed it! The helmets were a good addition, they’ll be talking about those forever,” A laugh escaped your lips as you shook your head slightly, thinking about how many times you’ll hear about the fighter pilots and their helmets over the course of the next week or so. 

“Anytime, Bob and I didn’t have anything going on today for training, so we were able to make the time to come visit! Plus that, I can’t miss an opportunity to be “Boone’s super cool dad” to a bunch of 7 year olds, right pal?” He let out a hearty chuckle as he ruffled Boone’s hair again.

Jake looked to Bob, who was now quietly standing behind Jake, a soft smile on his features as he waitied politely for the two of you to finish your conversation. Jake shook his head and laughed again, gesturing between you and Bob with a nod.

“Sorry, Bob, this is Boone’s teacher, he absolutely loves her to pieces, don’t ya, big guy?” Boone nodded his head, a big grin on his face as he looked between you and Bob, his tiny face seeming to take note of the way Bob was now looking at you.

“Uncle Bobby must like you too, Miss T, his cheeks got all red just now! Dad says that happens sometimes when you think a girl is pretty. D’ya think Miss T is pretty, Uncle Bobby?”

You and Bob exchanged uncomfortable laughs and awkward glances at one another before looking away. You knew Boone was just innocently speaking what he thought was true, but at that moment, you sort of wished the floorboards of the school would open up beneath your feet, the ground swallowing you whole so you could hide and shield your embarrassment. Jake looked down at his son and chuckled, breaking the awkwardly silent tension as Bob stole a glance towards the exit, looking as if he was contemplating whether or not he could just make a run for it and meet up with Jake and Boone later on.

“Bud, we can’t just say stuff like that, sometimes people don’t want other people to know if they find them pretty. Sometimes you gotta keep it a secret so they can tell that person themself, you know?”

“Oh, right, sorry Uncle Bobby, sorry Miss T,” Boone shrugged his shoulders, still not quite understanding why it had to be a secret if his uncle thought his teacher looked nice that day, but in the mind of a child, you supposed nothing about adult dating rituals made a whole ton of sense. 

“C’mon bud, let’s get going, ok?” Jake put a hand on his son’s shoulder before giving you a friendly glance and departing the room, leaving Bob to his own devices. You could have sworn as you saw Jake leaving that he gave his friend a wink and a thumbs up, and if you hadn’t caught the mischievous grin on Boone’s face as father and son left together, you would have sworn that this wasn’t intentional. 

A look of panic flashed across Bob’s features, shaking his head as he let out an awkward laugh, his hand resting on the back of his neck, scratching at his hairline as he shook his head, looking between the door and you.

“Sorry ‘bout Boone, he’s just like his dad, got a big mouth on that little guy, he’s lucky he’s cuter than Jake is, he can get away with it.”

“It’s ok, I’ve been told more awkward things by small children than hearing that their uncle might think I’m pretty,” You helped, trying to take away some of the tension between the two of you, “Jake didn’t properly introduce me either. My name’s Grace. Grace Taylor. Most people call me Gracie though.”

“Well, he did introduce me, but please, just call me Bob. I don’t even go by Lieutenant Floyd unless it’s a military event or something. Bob is just…more me. Nice to meet you, Gracie.” 

He offered you his hand, shaking yours as they met in a handshake that was much more gentle and soft than the one exchanged between you and Jake moments earlier. Bob’s hand practically swallowed yours whole as he shook it, and you couldn’t help but wonder if part of the reason he was so gentle was that he feared he might hurt you if he shook too abruptly, like he simply wasn’t in tune with his own strength yet. 

“I should probably get going, Jake’s my ride back to base, it’s a long walk if he leaves without me,” He chuckled before looking towards the door. His eyes landed back on you for a moment, and you couldn’t help but notice how deep a shade of blue they were. They were…indescribably blue. The olive green hue of his flight suit pulled out every hint of tan in his skin, making him appear even more sun-kissed than you imagined he’d look had he worn something else. 

“Yeah, you probably don’t want to be left in a school on a Friday night, do you?” You smirked at him playfully as you leaned your behind against your desk as you faced him with your arms folded across your chest. 

“It’s not ideal, especially with an 8am training tomorrow.”

Bob politely excused himself again and headed for the door before turning on the heel of his perfectly polished uniform shoe, a wide grin on his features as he pointed his finger in your direction.

“By the way, Boone was right. I do think you’re pretty, Gracie. I may have to come by to pick my honorary nephew up from school more often now.”

And with that, Bob was out the door, leaving you blushing like a schoolgirl with a little crush as you began cleaning up your classroom. 

[esamastation]

Shizuroth, part ten.

(previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine)

-

So much for his day off! Well, maybe expecting to get a day off so soon into a new transmigration was a bit of a big ask, but still - he'd been geared up for a day on the couch, catching up with his emails and reading through the whole tutorial section on his phone!

Which, it turns out, was actually useful once you got past the glaringly obvious and downright condescending parts. It actually explained to him where to pick up the orders he'd been making - and he'd learned a whole bunch about the SOLDIER program and the Wutai war and stuff like Materia. Very useful, and he was only halfway through it - he'd gotten distracted by the mailing lists, which were actually really interesting! Very informative in the terms of lore!

There was so much to catch up on, and he'd been looking forward to a whole day of reading and meditating, now that the Feng Shui wasn't quite so rancid. If he'd known he'd end up having guests, he would've put on some actual clothes too! 

Ugh, he would really miss the convenience of having disciples. Having a barrier between himself and guests let him make himself presentable, whenever his me-time got distributed. Never mind he could just tell them, no, this master isn't accepting visitors at this time, and they'd politely sent them away without him having to do anything! So useful! 

And now he's here, inhabiting a Big Bad - reduced to making his own tea and everything.

"What are you doing?" Genesis asks, watching him dubiously.

Isn't it obvious? "I am making tea," as you should be able to tell, from the tea pot!

His guests share a pointed look, and he suppresses the urge to roll Sephiroth's eyes. Like he can't see them. 

"Here, let me help you with that -" the big beefy one, Angeal, begins to say, only to stop at his scoff.

"If your tea making abilities are on par with Genesis, no thank you," he says in a tone that probably has too much Qing Jing Peak Lord and not enough One-Winged Angel in it. "I got it."

"What's wrong with my tea making?" Genesis asks. "It's tea. You dunk it in hot water until it becomes brown, and then you drink it."

Genesis-bro, you're lucky it's not Shen Jiu you're facing - you'd be wearing the tea. "Hm," the version of Shen Qingqiu that is there answers wryly and pours the first cup into the sink before carrying the pot and cups to the kitchen table.

Note to self - trays, he needs at least one tea tray.

There's an awkward, confused silence as he serves the tea. "Apologies for the lack of snacks," he says and adds, pointedly, "I wasn't expecting company."

"You never are," Genesis mutters, giving his teacup an aggravated look.

"Thank you, Sephiroth," Angeal says and accepts the cup. It looks tiny in his hands, and he doesn't seem to know what to do with it. "Is this… a Wutai practice?"

Hell if he knows, though seeing as Wutai was a sort of mishmash of Chinese and Japanese aesthetic, they probably had some kind of tea culture.

"Perhaps," he says and sips his tea. "So, what can I do for you two?"

Another look shared between them. They sip their tea and then look insultingly surprised when it's not awful.

"...I heard about what happened in the labs," Angeal says, turning the cup in his hand. "Genesis told me. Are you… alright?"

Well, his core is still a puddle of cement, and by his estimation it will be weeks of cultivation before he can work on something useful. He's stuck in the body of another villain doomed to die - and resurrect, and die, and resurrect, and die… but at least it comes with a built-in excuse for inconvenient amnesia plots! This world still doesn't have the internet - but it has fast food and online shopping! He still has a wallet full of hefty, big numbers! And, one can't forget, he's an incredibly hot beefcake of a man, strongest in the setting… at least until Cloud Strife would come along!

Compared to Shen Qingqiu, Sephiroth doesn't have much to complain about. At least he doesn't have to look forward to being torn limb from limb and tortured to slow and agonising death!

He thinks briefly of Binghe and then shakes his head.

"I'm fine," he says.

Another shared, pointed, knowing look. 

"You know that's not going to cut it, right?" Genesis says, setting his cup down. "Have you figured out how much you've forgotten?"

Everything and nothing. Once more.

Awkward.

"Sephiroth," Angeal says, looking at him seriously. "We're here to help you. Please, trust us - it's our duty, as your friends, to help you."

The man looks and sounds a lot like Yue Qingyuan in that moment. Sans the guilt and indulgence, but the vibes are very familiar. And, like with Yue Qingyuan, they kind of rub him the wrong way.

"Pretty sure friendship isn't supposed to be based on duty," he says, giving the man a look.

"Well, it's quicker and easier to say - and a little less likely to give you hives than the actual truth," Angeal points out.

"... Which is?"

Angeal dons on a very serious and very sincere expression. "Sephiroth," he says. "You're our friend, we're your friends, and we care about you. We're worried about you. Please believe us, we're here for you."

He instantly recoils away from that utter anime bullshit, and then glares as Genesis laughs at him. It's just so - ugh! "Next you will be telling me with the power of friendship I will regain my lost self," Sephiroth mutters. "Or that the first step to healing is accepting I have a problem. What is this, a damn intervention?" Oh, shit, maybe this is the Kingdom Hearts version after all!

"Goddess, don't give him ideas!" Genesis snorts. "His lectures are bad enough already!"

Angeal looks a little relieved, for some reason, and leans back. "And so my point is made," he says, satisfied, and folds his arms. "And my question still stands. Are you, really, alright?"

Ugh. "I feel fine."

"But are you? Are you fit for duty? If they send you to Wutai, will you be alright?"

Oh. Oh, that would be convenient, if he could use this whole thing as an excuse not to go! "If I say no, they won't send me to Wutai?"

Angeal frowns, hesitant.

"Oh, they'll still send you. But maybe not alone," Genesis says. "Probably one of us, or a bunch of Seconds, will be sent as your backup. But we'll still need to know what we might be covering you for."

He's not sure what that means, and it must show on his face, because Angeal explains. "If you, for example, have forgotten certain protocols… whoever goes in as your second will need to know when to step in."

Oh. "That seems…" he's not actually sure. Kinda bad? "If I don't know the protocols, then I shouldn't go, surely?"

"Oh, to see the day when reason and logic will find footing in Shinra military," Genesis sighs and shakes his head. "You could've had your brain completely fried, and they'll still send you, so long as you can still fight. Hell, they'll send you just to look pretty, even if you can't!"

… well, great, that's just great.

Angeal looks worried. "Can you still fight?"

Fight? Yes, probably. Fight like Sephiroth? Hmm…

He looks at the sword in the stand, now placed strategically so that it directs the room's energy properly. It has at least half a metre on Xiu Ya, and it's curved besides. And, obviously, it's not a spiritual sword.

"Perhaps we should find out," Genesis suggests, a gleam in his eyes. "Right. Who's up for sneaking into the company training room?

-

SY of the Wife Beam: oh no, Anime Friendship Speeches, this is so unrealistic.

[odxrilove]

BIRTHDAY BOY (TEASER)

PAIRING: mingyu x f!reader

GENRE: fluff, friends to lovers, bday party!au? kinda confession!au, uni!au but not really mentionned

WARNINGS: , flirting, swearing, alchohol, drinking, one mention of being high (not yn or seventeen), etc typical party stuff, game of truth or dare, minghao is annoying x1 (jk), yn gets jealous a bit, yn and mingyu are in love ewwww, huge make-out session (borderline smut...) (JKKK. or am i), lots of tension + more?

WC: 440 for the teaser, +8.1k for the full fic

SYNOPSIS: It’s Mingyu’s birthday party, and Hoshi lets something out under the influence of alcohol. Apparently, you have two gifts prepared for him– completely throwing out the one-gift tradition your friend group strictly follows. However, Hoshi’s a liar — and a bad one at that — but it’s already too late. Even though Mingyu knows he’s supposed to be excited about all the gifts he’s receiving tonight, he’s (not so surprisingly) only interested in everything you’re giving him.

A/N: this was supposed to be a cute short drabble for his bday but exams happened and suddenly i found myself writing 8k of tension during summer break. rec song - i dont understand but i luv u by seventeen 

FIC TAGLIST: @etherealyoungk @simpforyongbokk @luvhyun3 @haew0nz comment or ask/send an ask to be tagged!

back to masterlist !

THE FULL FIC IS OFFICIALLY OUT !

Mingyu hums, raising his head to look at the end of the hallway, where the door to the balcony is situated. When he returns his gaze to you, he tilts his head cutely, licking his lips. “You wanna wait by the balcony? I told the guests not to go on there too much so that i won’t get a noise complaint from the neighbors. I think it’s safe if you go there.” 

With a smile, you nod at Mingyu, “yeah, that would be great. Thanks.” You place one of your hands on the wall next to the kitchen before leaning in so he hears you better over the music. “Don’t die in there by the way! We haven’t even gone to Iceland yet like we planned to years ago– it would be a waste for you to miss out on our extravagant bucket list, right?”

Mingyu’s laugh fills your ears, the sound making you smile from ear to ear. “C’mon, who do you take me for? Seok– Oh sorry.” Mingyu cuts himself off, lifting his two hands in the air with one still holding all the shot glasses. The girl, who just bumped into Mingyu, and who you recognize as one of your classmates from your major, pushes her hair behind her ear, blushing at your friend. 

Before she leaves, she mumbles a few words, but the music is way too loud for you to make out what it was, and then she’s gone. 

You don’t pay too much attention to it, as does Mingyu, who’s already back to look at you. It’s not the first and certainly not the last time someone is going to bump into one of you two at his party. 

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You turn back to Mingyu, crossing your arms and making the silver necklace you’re currently wearing shine even more under the flashy led lights. 

“Ah, sweetheart, you never listen do you?” Mingyu brings his free hand up to your jaw, tapping on the underside of your chin with his index finger. “I said, you need to stop biting your lips when you’re nervous. They’re too pretty for that.” 

You can’t speak, your entire vocabulary having left your body. His hand then turns to cup the underside of your jaw, his thump grazing over your bottom lip, ultimately smudging a bit of your lipgloss. Your mouth falls open a bit at the shock but he doesn’t stop. “A pretty color.. for pretty lips. Suiting.” His thumb sweeps one last time over your lip before he retreats into the kitchen. 

“Wait for me by the balcony, I'll grab our drinks for us.” 

general taglist: @0x1lovebot @fairybinie @blaqpinksthetic @odetoyeonjun @pockyandme @soobin-chois @soobisms @junityy @kaimal @laylasbunbunny @jaeyunverse @enhacolor @honglynights @starry-mins @bibinnieposts @raevyng @yoonzin0 @hoeforcheol @pearlygraysky @4xiaojun

please do not copy, repost or steal any of my work. all content belongs to @odxrilove

[randomshyperson]

The List - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Wanda shouldn't be sneaking off to your bedroom during the farewell party, and she certainly shouldn't be reading a list of pros and cons about the women you care about. Inspired by ‘Friends’ but make it Ross’s list something actually thoughtful.

Warnings: (+16) Some implications but nothing explicit, very brief angst of relationship going wrong and other lovers, implied friends to lovers, some Yelena x Reader and Vision x Wanda ‘cause they made bad choices, drinking, feelings talks, making out, getting back together, attempt to poetry and a hella of self-insert stuff. | Words: 3.052k.

A/N-> The author should be working on the last two Skam series but is doing midnight one-shots instead (self-criticism). This is short and dramatic and I just wanted something about one of the most popular scenes in Friends. Hope you like it.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

--//--

A full tower meant Wanda would be locked in her room. Or at least, that's how it used to be.

Tonight, however, there is a 'Good Voyage' banner in the middle of the room filled with friends and guests, each with their own glass of drink, wanting to celebrate your last night as an Avenger. Technically, this party was also for Wanda. In official terms, she didn't leave the team, but she had a room booked at the Harkness Residence and no belongings in her old room. For the two of you, this was the last night in the tower.

This is why Wanda was wearing a party dress and wasn't locked away from the celebration as she would have been years ago when she was a new recruit and you would sneak out of appointments to keep her company.

She tried to avoid staring so much. Whether it was the lost smiles between you and Yelena, or the lingering hugs and complicit whispers. There was nothing official, yet Natasha had commented that you had been sleeping in Lena's apartment for many weeks and that you were probably the only number saved on her secure cell phone beside the older widow. 

"Would you like me to get you something to drink, Wanda?" Vision's voice made her jump in fright softly. She stared at him, and for a moment couldn't say anything, still getting used to the synthesizer's new appearance. Sometimes she missed the red, it was less intimidating than the full white.

"N-no, Vis. Thank you." She manages to reply when he looks at her curiously towards the silence. Wanda risks diverting her attention to you again, catching the moment when Yelena entwines her arm with yours and rests her head on your shoulder. It is so domestic that she feels sick. How many times has she made the same action? Swallowing dryly, she lets the robot beside her know, "I need some air. "

She left him before he could say anything else; and missed the moment he exchanged a glance with Natasha across the room as if asking her oldest friend for some kind of assistance.

Wanda lied - It wasn't her intention, she thinks, but her feet made their way alone. She went up the elevator in silence, offering nothing but forced smiles to any stray guests she met in the hallways to your old bedroom.

The place was dark and full of boxes ready for the move. All your belongings would be shipped the next day to somewhere in Europe, where you and Yelena continued on the mission to free the rest of the Black Widows, the personal operation that had to be paused for a few months with all the problems the Mad Titan brought to earth. With the victory of the Avengers, who were outnumbered for some time, everything needed to undergo some kind of reform. No one ever wanted to be caught as unawares as when Thanos appeared, and everyone had work to do. Wanda, and her growing magical power, included.

She let her fingers trace through the closed boxes, a red sparkle doing the work of turning on the lights at the entrance. Her mind was haunted by memories of a friendship long forgotten, glimpses of movie nights under those covers, stolen touches at breakfasts, and promises sealed with kisses that would be forgone and impossible to keep when reality fell on your heads.

When Wanda thought of you, she felt a pang in her chest. Missing you hurt her physically, and even with only a few rooms between you now, she felt as if the distance she had placed was much greater. She knows she would start to cry if she kept thinking about it, but there was no avoiding it, not when there were still some of her belongings scattered on your study desk and some of these were polaroids taken by Peter Parker with his intention to keep memories of his adventures with the Avengers.

She traced the photographs of younger versions of herself smiling beside you, but at the current moment, her smile was much more whiny than happy. She took her attention away from the pictures to the computer that turned on as soon as it recognized movement, and let her fingers play with the keys for a second.

"Welcome." FRIDAY's sudden greeting made her eyes widen softly at the fright. "Little witch."

She bit the inside of her cheek at the nickname she hadn't heard in a while. She lifted her finger to touch the colorful stickers you pasted on the device but bumped into the screen and was surprised by the automatic unlock. Her shock at still being allowed to access your belongings had to be forgotten because the open file was much more relevant than overthinking about this.

There were two columns in one document. Her name and Yelena's, below each a list of items. 

The witch swallowed dryly and turned her face to the door. A peek at something that contained her name couldn't hurt...

Wanda.

‘Complicated. 

Complicated friendship.

Complicated everything.’

Frowning, the witch felt something in her stomach sinking. When she read Yelena's first item 'It happened as it was supposed to' she understood that it was a list of pros and cons and she immediately regretted starting to read this at all.

But there was no stopping herself now. She needed to know where this was going.

Wanda.

‘Just because she was my first love, she doesn't have to be my last.’

Sniffling slightly, she looked at the next item on Yelena's list.

‘I don't have to fall in love with her just because everyone else thinks it makes sense.’

Wanda froze. A mixture of conflicting feelings surged through her chest. She wanted to be only upset by how distressed you felt, but she couldn't help the thread of hope arising from hearing your doubts regarding your feelings for Yelena.

Clicking to advance to the next lines, she held her breath without realizing it. The formatting of the list changes, taking away the bullet points for paragraphs that pull and bring the air out of her lungs with each sentence.

“Wanda only wakes up after all the alarms have gone off, I can always watch her sleep because of this.

Yelena never sleeps, and I can never fully relax knowing she's awake and haunted by horrors I can't take away.

They're both shorter than me, and they look adorable when they ask for help picking up something high up. Yelena kicks my ankle if I get too cocky about it. Wanda slides her hand under my clothes and turns me into a complete mess at her mercy, taller or shorter, she’s the boss.”

She pauses in her reading, a smile playing on her lips. She remembers doing the latter so many times. The memories hit her hard, and she had to take a deep breath to push them away and focus on reading again.

“Wanda feels so much that she explodes.

Yelena sometimes thinks the Red Room just left an empty cocoon behind.

I think I'm in the middle.”

Wanda pauses, thinking she hears someone approaching. With her heart racing with guilt and fear of being caught, she checks the door, but it's just her mind playing tricks on her.

“Wanda invades frequently. Privacy is a problem, especially because of her telepathy. I can never keep secrets from her, much less emotions. She gets so close that sometimes it suffocates.”

The witch pauses the reading with tears in her eyes. Guilt and shame burn her chest, and she takes a deep breath. She wonders how old the list is, or if the version of her that you have of it in your head is just the young girl who tentatively stumbled over her own feelings and traumas and hurt you even though she had no intention of doing so. 

She sniffles again and controls the threat of crying before reading the next item.

“Yelena goes so far away that sometimes I wonder if she was ever here at all.”

The witch needs to stop; She has for a moment, the realization that perhaps, you are better off alone. For the way she and Yelena, even if in different ways, hurt you.

And the next part of the list does not make her feel better about this. In cursive letters, and repeated for three more paragraphs, there's the name of the person responsible for putting an end to the fragile relationship that you and she used to have.

“Vision.

Vison.

Vison.

She notices a machine but she cannot notice me. 

She loves a piece of tin, but not the one who finds pairs of socks for her cold feet at night.

She loves the tin-man who signed the agreements that say she should be locked up, and not the person who would fight the whole world for her.”

Wanda sobs, and has to sit up in her chair to keep from falling to the floor. She cries for a moment, all the emotions that seem to have built up since the whole impasse with the Avengers two years ago hitting her all over again. 

You've got it all wrong. If there was a way, she would have gone back and done everything differently. She would have told her stupid young self that you were hurting like her, and that you always noticed her like she pretended not to be doing. 

That forcing yourself to invest in Vision was hurting you like it was hurting her.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda tries to stop crying to finish the list at once. It seems to be ending at least.

There is one note crossed out, and she needs to make a change and remove the underline to read it.

“Yelena never seems as happy with me as she is around Kate Bishop. She always diverts from the subject when I try to bring it up. It reminds me of Wanda when I would ask about him, and she would say they were just friends.

I wonder if I will ever be someone's first choice.”

Wanda shakes her head in indignation. You are her first choice. And her second and third. You are everything. You've always been too precious to risk losing. How can you not know this?

"People say that Yelena and I are very similar while Wanda is my opposite. Peter has been helping me try astrology and everything from Hogwarts houses to numerology.

I liked the phases of the moon where Yelena matches mine while Wanda is the part I am missing.

While Yelena mirrors me, Wanda completes me.

They say that the former is more important: That real, routine life is better with someone who resembles you. Yelena and I like the same pizza and the same movies. We never fight over silly things.

Every time I argue with Wanda I want to make her scream for another reason. She always looked so pretty moaning my name-”

The witch jumps to the next item, her face burning just like under her dress. She clears her throat quietly, fighting other memories that try to rise into her mind and which most likely would take away her ability to read anything.

‘I could write pages and pages of this, but this would be just me, running away from the truth. There is only one answer to your question, Captain Rogers.

Yelena can read me like a book, but Wanda is the only one who can edit the words.

I will meet a hundred people, and none of them will be like Wanda.

You told me that in order to make this decision, I needed to think about something simple. Who would I miss more if I had to lose in life, Wanda or Yelena? It was not so simple.

Because Wanda left me first and I had to get used to the pain day by day. But Yelena will never let me in enough to miss her. Not when she also knows that I'm always looking back, just like a little kid, waiting for the moment when Wanda Maximoff will have a spare piece of attention to trade with me.

I know I can survive missing her in my life because it is a feeling I am used to.

I just don't want to lose her again. I don't want to survive without her, I want to live with her.

I will tell her. 

I will.

I-”

"Having fun, Maximoff?" The witch jumps out of her chair at your sudden arrival. It is a mixture of shock and embarrassment, she cringes like a child being caught and her face burns even more at your relaxed posture, waist resting on the doorstop and arms crossed. Her favorite smile on your face.

"I-I was just..."

"Snooping." You complete, but you don't sound the least bit angry, just provocative. You uncross your arms to reach for the cell phone in your jeans pocket. "Yeah, I got a notification of a small change in my drive. I guess I was right about the boundaries issues topic..."

Wanda steps forward, almost desperate. "I didn't mean to! I-I accidentally clicked on it, and when I saw my name, I couldn't help it-"

You chuckle, nodding in her direction as a sign that it was okay. "Relax, I'm just teasing you." 

Wanda chuckles nervously, aware that you were getting too close. She holds her breath but you only lean toward the computer, humming in confirmation that it is indeed your list that she has spent the last few moments reading before turning your attention back to her.

"I'm really sorry." She murmurs embarrassedly, looking down at her own feet. Wanda really expects you to yell at her, to be angry at her for breaking your privacy and invading what is clearly a very personal vent. But you just stare back at her, and completely tear her apart as you take one of your hands to her hair, gentle fingers tracing the loose strands behind the nape of her neck to the front.

"I didn't get a chance to say that red really suits you." 

"T-thanks." She risks a look into your eyes, and her heart explodes at the intensity she finds.

"Actually I didn't get a chance to say much at all." You continue, a small smile appearing on your lips. Wanda tries to focus on your next words and not on your hand playing with her hair. "You ran out of the party. I was planning to ask you to dance."

She swallows dryly, trying to calm her own nerves. She's tired of games; they've hurt you both enough.

"I don't understand your list." She retorts in an affected voice, her gaze in a mix of hope and fear. "You say...you say you're going to tell me, but you're leaving-"

"We both are." You retort as if you are reminding her. Without stopping smiling, you use your free hand to search for something in your coat pocket. "It turns out, Nat and Lena really do have a lot of time catching up to do. And well, I know you do magic portals now, but I still trust planes."

In your hand are first-class tickets to Central-Southeastern Europe. You let Wanda hold them, appraising the item in shock as you clarify:

"Agatha mentioned that you need to find out more about yourself, and I thought, there is no better place than where it all began. Unfortunately, Sokovia no longer has an airport, but we can stay around. And get a car..."

She looks at you with watery eyes. "And y-you want to come with me?"

You smile at her so tenderly that she would have burst into tears if she weren't already doing so. Your hands find her cheeks, gently wiping away her tears as you clarify:

"Isn't it clear yet, Wanda? I'll go wherever you want me."

Something mixed between a sob and a relieved laugh escapes her; You have a very similar expression, and as you wipe away her tears, you kiss her cheeks and the tip of her nose to reassure her.

Wanda sighs, closing her eyes for a moment. 

"Detka, I'm so scared." She confesses in a whisper. "We've hurt each other before. I don't want to ever hurt you again."

You nod and wait for her to stare you in the eyes. 

"There is no such thing as a perfect relationship, Wands." Your tone, while firm, is also tender. "And we're both complicated. But I want this, us because I'd rather work on our differences than start anything new with someone else. You're the only one I want."

She stares at you trying to absorb all the sincerity in her words. For a second, even with the list, she takes a chance:

"But Yelena?"

You give her a small smile, holding her hand in yours at the height of your heart. "She could tell even before me that there was no one but you. Lena will continue the mission with Natasha, as it should be. And I will stay with you if you choose me."

She laughs tearfully, nodding. "Of course, I choose you, idiot." She assures. "I love you." And Wanda repeats and repeats until you kiss her.

It seems ridiculous that Wanda has gone without it you when your lips meet again. The worst part is that she only realizes how much she has missed you once you touch her again. The needy sounds that escape her are almost desperate, full of passion, and tugging at your clothes, trying to bring you closer than is humanly possible.

You give her everything. Your mouth, your tongue, your hands. She is pressed against the table, kissing you as if she wants to make up for all the time wasted in a single night.

There is a ripping of clothes, her dress will end up in a pile on the floor. No hesitation: Wanda gives you the green light as she snaps your belt off. There’s a promise of a future together that she can’t wait to live in the way you worship every corner of her body that night.