#yes i had to make an old bill joke and no i'm not sorry about it

[visions--of--collisions]

for @jennsterjay who went with 5 (PG)

EXCERPT: remember when we didn't know who to be? (Spiderverse, Hobie/Miles, G, Post-Canon)

A welcome sight greets him at the kitchen table. Billie’s in her high chair with Miles’ tablet - judging by the stickers - propped on the table in front of her, waving a tiny fist in the vague direction of her mouth as her eyes follow something on the screen. She does a startled little flail when she notices him. ‘Ibby!’ she says, and drops what she was holding to reach for him; it’s mangled beyond recognition, but there’s cubes of mango scattered across the tray in front of her, and one or two in the bottom of her moulded bib, so he knows those little hands are a sticky, pulpy nightmare.

Hobie couldn’t give less of a shit, frankly. ‘Young Bill!’

Billie squeals in response, and he reaches out to let her grip his fingers in a pincer hold he swears gets tighter every time he sees her. She promptly uses them to start trying to leverage herself out of her chair, huffing determinedly. Hobie laughs, delightedly. A girl after his own heart. 'Alright, easy, I ain’t going nowhere,' he soothes, and works his hands free to lift her out. Billie kicks her feet excitedly, even getting a few decent hits in on him while Hobie settles her on his hip, whereupon she gets straight to work on widening the holes in his jumper.

The water stops running at the kitchen sink. Hobie glances over just as Miles’ Dad turns to meet him, wiping his hands dry on a tea towel.

Hobie has to give it to him; the man’s got an eloquent way of raising his eyebrows. ‘Ay, and here’s the Old Bill!’ He clicks and makes a finger gun with his free hand. Billie turns in his hold and reaches for it. Hobie resists the urge to comment on her being her Father’s daughter, even though he knows Miles would laugh (despite himself). ‘Afternoon, Mr. Morales.’

‘Hobart,’ Jefferson drawls. He side-eyes Miles, who’s cramming the last few plates into the dishwasher beside him. ‘You going ahead with your little plan, then?’

'Yep.' Miles straightens and accepts the towel Jefferson passes to him. 'See, it'll be fine! I can't be Spiderman if I'm dragging my baby sister around, but there'll still be one here - you know, if something comes up while we're out there.'

'Wiya,' Billie agrees. Hobie rearranges his fingers into web-slinging formation and grins when she reaches for them with both hands, this time.

Miles points at her. 'Exactly.'

Jefferson scoffs and tugs the towel out of his hands. 'Dragging her around,' he mutters. 'You better not be dragging my baby girl around out there.'

‘Dad. Come on.’ Miles flashes Hobie a disbelieving look even as he’s trying to maintain his patented Good Mama’s Boy smile. Hobie helps himself to a piece of Billie’s mango without comment. ‘I’ve done this a dozen times already. It’s literally just for the afternoon. We’re gonna take a cab there and back, so we’ll be out on the street for a fraction of that …’

Hobie pops some fruit into Billie’s mouth, which she chews on with the renewed enthusiasm of someone seeing another person enjoying the same food. ‘Whereabouts we headed, then? A bit nippy for the park, ain’t it?’

This is, apparently, the wrong question to ask. Miles’ nose wrinkles in a wince as Jeff cranes his head around the fridge door he’s just opened. The man looks at Hobie with round eyes before he turns them on his son. ‘And you’re telling me this boy doesn’t even know what the plan is?’

‘Well - the broad strokes!’ Miles insists. He’s doing his best not to get sharp or defensive about it, Hobie can tell. Billie makes a querulous noise, and Miles lowers his arms as his attention diverts her way. Hobie turns the hip she’s perched on towards him, and he exhales loudly, crossing the kitchen to take her.

Hobie’s a bit too conscious of Jeff’s eyes on them as they pass her between them. He tucks his hands into his back pockets, pushing out his chest like someone who’s confident and unworried and not excruciatingly aware of the pocket fluff migrating towards his mango-sticky fingers. ‘The plan was to give your Mum some time to rest, weren’t it?’ he asks, trying not to sound too pointed about it. Miles nods like it wasn’t his idea in the first place; like he even needs the reminder. Hobie curbs the instinct to put his shoulder in between them - to give Miles shelter he doesn’t need. ‘While we’re running the Mayday Contingency, obviously,’ he adds, like it’s an afterthought and not the first thing Miles texted him about this morning. ‘Bills not being a Spiderbaby makes that twice as easy, I expect.’

He glances over at Jeff and is a bit surprised to see him watching Miles with his brows drawn. He meets Hobie’s eye for a stilted moment and then leans back, his chest expanding with a sigh. ‘Mayday … as in, Parker’s kid, Mayday? Or is this one of those situations where the name’s pulling double duty?’

Hobie grimaces slightly and tilts a hand from side to side. ‘Bit of both, yeah.’

‘You already asked me this question, Dad, the last time we talked about this.’ Hobie blinks, and turns to find Miles seated at the table, arranging Billie in his lap so she can sit back against him, her little arms looped overtop his. He gives her some fingers to clutch at; bends down and sideways so she can see his face. Hobie knows his expression is doing something truly stupid when Billie looks at her brother and smiles, automatic, like a little lightbulb going on, so he keeps his back to Jeff as he squats down and catches one of her kicking feet. Miles grins at her visible distraction and leans in to kiss her cheek. He very determinedly keeps his eyes on his sister when he says: 'You really think I'd let anything happen to her?'

The kitchen is quiet for a bit, even with the noise of Miles’ tablet and Billie telling Hobie exactly how she feels about having her toes tugged on (the reviews are in and they agree: he should get kicked in the chin.) Jefferson mutters to himself before the fridge door thunks shut. ‘It’s not about anything you’d let happen, Miles. You know that.’

Hobie tries to control his expression when he looks up at his friend, because Miles already knows how he feels about so-called authority figures having opinions on personal autonomy and influence. Jeff himself knows, at this point. Besides that, Miles should always know Hobie’s on his side, but he doesn’t want to give him any reason to doubt it.

Miles’ eyes are still flicking across his face when Hobie feels Jeff’s presence behind him, and he sees him glance up like he can’t help himself before refocusing on Billie. Jeff reaches past Hobie’s shoulder to gather up the condiments left out on the table; he bites down on the urge to offer a hand that spending any amount of time in the Morales’ kitchen quickly makes second nature - even and especially when it means Miles’ Mom gets to tease her son about his friends “showing him up” until he’s flustered and whiny. Oblivious to the mood, Billie coos up at her Dad as Miles grabs his tablet and turns it to face her, and Hobie spends a good minute or so wondering whether they’re actually going to be leaving the flat today before Jeff bends down to kiss his daughter’s head and elbow his son as he straightens up again. ‘Cool it with that,’ he scolds him quietly. ‘Your Mom already said you could go, didn’t she?’

[TBC]

[mysticficti0n]

hi bb, could you do a sad/fluff between 2023tom and his old school crush please but make it happy at the end? (but he's not with Heidi, just him and Bill are doing something like met gala or red carpet)

I know I haven't really given a great explication but you can write fucking amazingly so I don't think you'll struggle

love ya

okay this is such a cute idea! literally in love so ofc I'll do it!

(all my attention will be back soon but I'm taking time to do some request as I have so many and all you guys have such good ideas!)

∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　

Meant to meet again...

warnings- none

words- 1.2k

(also I am so so so so sorry Gustav and Georg aren't in this I couldn't think how to incorporate them but they're mentioned!)

Y/n stood on the carpet watching actors, actresses, models, musicians be snapped thousands of times, she'd interviewed over 20 people by this point but just kept getting the same old boring replies "oh were so lucky to be here" and the fake laughs, it's what you get being a interviewer- fakes

the sea of photographers seemed to switch direction, facing down to the entrance, Y/n walked forward from her place peering down the carpet and two tall, shaggy haired men stood there but she couldn't figure out who it was "BILL BILL! THIS WAY- TOM TURN THIS WAY TOM" it clicked- Bill and Tom Kaulitz. she'd forgotten about the twins from when they left school, she knew the twins so well back then, best friends really, sharing lessons together and always laughing and skipping lessons they didn't like, hiding in cupboards when teachers called their names down the halls

Y/n straightened her dress while seeing the twins climb the stairs and she couldn't help but get a giddy feeling as they walked towards her, they both looked so different to how she remembered- Bill had black spiky hair and Tom had dreads that he'd constantly mess with when he was bored in class "Hi!" Bill started coming into shot of the camera so that her team could start filming

"hey! How are you two?" she asked grabbing the pair microphones

"good good, you?" Tom had a look across his face the girl couldn't really understand but she smiled to him none the less

"very well- enjoying the night and speaking to everyone! so if you wouldn't mind I'll introduce you and ask only a few questions then let you go because I don't doubt theirs about 100 more people who'll want you after me!" she laughed to the two now men, not boys she used to know

"I've herd that a few times" Tom joked getting a shove from his brother "what! it was funny"

"okay ready to start?" she asked turning back to the two who nodded "okay- roll... Good evening everyone, I'm Y/n Y/l/n from CBQ News and tonight I'm here with Bill and Tom Kaulitz, how are you-"

"Oh my god! I knew it was you!" Tom had wide eyes and mouth agape looking to the girl, he knew he recognised her, her eyes, her nose, her smile, her everything he knew he knew it from somewhere

"holy sh- Y/n!" Bill covered his mouth as the girl laughed nodding "you look beautiful oh- I'm sorry were ruining the interview but we haven't seen you in like nearly 20 years!" he spoke to the camera then looking back to the girl

"I know you left school when I think- yeah I was 15 and you two had just turned 16" they nodded still staring at her, Tom couldn't help but remember what he thought of her all those years ago- Y/n was his school crush from when they were 7 to 17 years old, yes 17- though he never saw her when they left he still thought about her all the time and looked back on the picture the two took the day they we're leaving, she was smiling with her arms around his neck, hugging him. Sometimes he missed school- not the bullying or the stares but the times in class were they'd just burst out laughing until they felt sick "so- back onto the interview" she laughed "who're you two wearing tonight?"

the boys gave their answers, making remarks and laughing as they all watched someone fall up the stairs but Tom still couldn't get over Y/n, she looked even more gorgeous, her hair perfectly fitted to her face, her dress looked so good on her though it had been so long- his feeling were trickling back in "can I say, you look great Y/n- not even great, amazing tonight" a blush painted her face and Bill looked toward his brother, the memories came back of the nights him and Tom would be sat talking about if he was going to finally ask out Y/n but every year he made an excuse, he was planning on asking her to prom but they left before it happened and she ended up going alone, thats what Tom's friends said anways-but god does he wish he just took the plunge

"aw thank you! you two the first to actually say something about me tonight" a smile came across her face

"we'll they're arseholes, you're one of the best dressed here!" Bill laughed

"god you two stop its giving me an ego!, anyways thank you so much for this- its great seeing you again after so long" she and Bill met in a hug, he'd missed these, giving her a kiss on her cheek before Tom pulled her away into his arms, her hands went around his neck, his head resting on her shoulder and hers lay in his chest- just like the photo "thank you- its been amazing seeing you" she spoke to Tom quiet enough for the mic's not to pick it up, pulling away from the hug they still kept their arms on each other. Bill knew that Tom was probably going to be talking about this hug for the next week but he didn't mind- he knew what It meant to him

"I've missed you Y/n..." she nodded trying to hold the tears back, she didn't realise how nice it felt to be with them again and just being in their arms- especially Toms- would make her so emotional

"me too..." she breathed

"god you're going to make me cry- stop Y/n" Bill chuckled blinking up trying to discard the tears, Tom still stood with the girl unable to pull from her

"okay- hm, well you two- I hope you have an amazing night and maybe I'll see you in another 20 years?" the three laughed, but Tom wasn't about to wait another 20 years to see her again, he couldn't

"hope so!"

"aaannnd cut-" the camera man called and the three breathed, she took the mics back and thanked the pair again, when other interviewers realised that they'd finished Bill and Tom's name bounced around again

"have a good night guys, I wont hold you up anymore" she sadly grinned rubbing Bills shoulder feeling a weird pain in her chest- like she was saying good bye again

"ugh I'd much rather stay with you but, we both know what these things are like" Bill gave her one last hug, squeezing her tightly and saying thanks once more before he was dragged by someone she didn't even see but he was gone and only her and Tom stood there

"guess I need to say bye to you too hm?" the two shared a laugh

"yeah.. yeah" Tom couldn't let his nervousness get the best of him this time, he knew if he didn't say anything he'd regret if for how many more years went by before he saw her again "I- I was wondering if maybe you'd wanna grab drinks one of the nights? or even tonight if you can do you want to sit with us- Gustav and Georg will be at the after party thing- it's fine if not of course I'm guessing you've already got a table with some people and-" the guitarist rambled on making the girl infront of him giggle

"I'd love to go get drinks with you Tom- and also sit with you all tonight" he felt like he had gone back to being 16 for a second as the words left her mouth "so I'll meet you by the doors at say, 9?"

"Yeah 9 works, okay!- I better go so" he hugged her again pressing a kiss to the top of her head "bye!" she waved to the man who was smiling so widely it hurt

[certifiedtrashmouth]

Oh gosh I don’t wanna repeat someone and I’m not sure about Xmas traditions but what about ridiculous stocking stuffers w Eddie? Fluff/humor.

oh, god. this one also got out of hand. started in light-hearted fun and ended in fluff that had me screaming into my pillow. i'm sorry for the length.

good for one kiss (eddie munson x reader)

warnings: none really. mentions of penis??? (eddie makes a joke about his dick and there's mention of a blowjob but no description lol), mentions of cigarettes, idiots in love. best friends to lovers.

“What am I supposed to do with a single piece of gum?” 

“What am I supposed to do with a single cigarette?” 

“Smoke it, idiot.”

“It’s broken, idiot.” 

“Oh.” 

You and Eddie sit cross-legged across from each other on his bed on Christmas Eve, partaking in your annual gift exchange. But there was a catch; each year, you exchanged stockings, only gifting each other what you could fit in the glorified, fleece-lined socks. There had only been two exceptions to the rule of the years - the year you’d gifted Eddie his first professional-grade amp and he’d bawled like a baby (once he’d dried his tears, he’d threatened you and Wayne both endlessly about ever letting the story leave the room. The two of you had exchanged a look, though, knowing neither of you would ever let him live it down.) and the year Eddie had bought you your first acoustic six-string with the promise of lessons from him (it was onyx black and shined with promise as Eddie explained the two of you needed to use paint markers to decorate it). 

It was going on five years of the tradition that had stemmed from both of you never being able to afford much for each other, but still wanting to show you care nevertheless. And as the years had gone on, the gifts had slowly found their rhythm. There was always a perfect mixture of cliche throwaway gifts, gag gifts, and gifts so sentimental that some tears were sure to be shed by one of the parties. 

“I didn’t think it would break,” you scrunch your nose slightly as Eddie holds up the cigarette, limp from the crack in the middle of it. 

“What did you expect, just throwing it in here like that?” Eddie laughs, not bothered in the slightest. He had a pack of Camels snug in the pocket of his leather jacket slung over his desk chair. It was the thought that counted, after all. 

“I expected it to be absolutely fucking invincible for how expensive the pack was,” you whine, and he can’t help but watch you with bemusement, “I spent my last dollar from my tips on that damn pack.” 

The mention of that softens the look in Eddie’s eyes. He knew the two of you struggled to come up with enough money to even keep up this tradition; he had hardly seen you due to how many spare shifts you’d been picking up at Benny’s the last few weeks. 

You catch the look, immediately straighten up, “No, no, no. Don’t even go there, Munson. I can see you going there. Come back to me, idiot.” 

Idiot. The term of endearment you’d coined for him since you’d first met in sophomore year of high school. He’d heard it in a dozen different tones - elated, annoyed, exhausted - but not a single one held an ounce of genuine negativity towards him. You made idiot sound like my love. 

He wasn’t your lover, though. He kicked himself in the shins every morning over it, always telling himself that today was the day and I’m going to tell her how I feel finally. 

Spoiler alert. He never did. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he offers up his own loving nickname for you, “I just know you’ve been busting your ass at Benny’s-” 

“Yes, I have, because I want to spoil you for the holidays. I don’t regret a single second of it. Even when those creepy old men tried to shove the dollar bills in my shirt rather than just hand them to me.”

You both laugh at the memory. It hadn’t been very funny when it happened, leading to you calling Eddie crying and him coming to your rescue, but enough time had passed to see the humor in it all. 

The rest of the gift exchange goes as expected for the most part. The gag gifts pull the appropriate amount of laughter, and the more genuine gifts pull a softness out of each other that nearly had each of your eyes’ pupils forming hearts. 

Eddie fawns over a pack of pics you’d had customized with Corroded Coffin’s logo, and you react just as bluntly as expected when you pull a long red candle from your stocking, looking up to Eddie blankly. 

“For when I finally sacrifice you in the woods,” he explains with a cheesy grin, “Gotta have candles if we’re going to worship Satan, sweetheart.” 

“Ha-ha,” you dead pan, tilting your head slightly as you keep a straight face, completely unimpressed, “You’re hilarious, Munson.” 

“Hey, I could have made a sex joke,” he throws up his hands in a defensive manner, shrugging his shoulders and looking to the ground in faux shyness. 

“Yeah, yeah - you could have made a sex joke,” you mumble as you shove the candle to the side, a smile still escaping the corners of your mouth. 

“As a matter of fact, I still can. Don’t think I didn’t notice the fact that you replaced my stocking this year, darling, and that it’s noticeably larger. Finally big enough to fit over my massive dic-” 

“You’re disgusting,” you interrupt, grabbing the candle and now whacking one of his knees with it, making him fall victim to an uncontrollable giggling fit, “Have you ever been told that? Let me be the first to tell you - you’re absolutely vile, Edward Munson.” 

You don’t mean it, and he knows you don’t. You’re both laughing too much over it. 

You’re starting to get to the bottom of the stockings now. You each have an odd arrangement of candy that had been included in each respective stocking - Eddie is socking on a blue jolly rancher, being sure to make annoying slurping noises to get a rise out of you, as you nibble on a miniature candy cane. There’s only one gift left in your stocking, a small box that you only reach for once you rewrap the candy cane in the plastic wrap it’d come in that you’d saved to avoid getting sticky fingers. 

“What’s this?” you ask, pulling it out and letting the empty stocking fall into your lap. 

Eddie looks up from where he was preoccupied with attempting to open another jolly rancher. His eyes light up from the present in your palm, “Oh, only saving the best one for last, sweet thing.” 

You look at him questioningly, but begin to slide your finger under the delicate edge of the small box regardless. It takes concentration to pry open the box without tearing it, but you do, you gasp. 

In a bed of cotton, there’s a necklace. 

It looks like a copy of Eddie’s signature pick necklace. But instead of the dark swirling black between clouds of burgundy red, it shines with pearlescent opal white and ruby red, glimmering on a silver chain as if it were made of jewels. 

When you gently lift it from the box, it’s clear it’s not a real pick. It’s heavier - Hell, it might actually be made of gemstones. 

“Eddie-” you gasp, cutting yourself off, mesmerized by the beauty. 

He’s nearly shaking with delight, “It’s a locket. Look, open it.” 

You see what he means immediately, realizing that the weight was from the thickness of the faux pick. There’s a subtle seam, with a silver lock on the side that clicks gently when you press on it. The locket swings open, and inside is a snug photo of you and Eddie. You can pinpoint exactly when the photo was taken; it was at your birthday party two years ago, both of you laughing with cake icing on the tips of your nose. The photo is in dramatic black and white, but you can still picture how obnoxiously red your cheeks were with Eddie’s arm slung around your shoulder, pulling you into him as you two lost it over God knows what. 

You feel yourself beginning to tear up, completely stunned, “I- Oh my God, Eddie. I don’t know what to say.”

“You can start with how I’m the best friend ever,” he cheekily grins, wiggling his eyebrows at you as you let out a breathless laugh. 

“It’s…God, it’s beautiful. This- This is too much, Eddie. I can’t imagine how expensive-”

“Nope,” he cuts you off quickly, waving his hands frantically, refusing to listen to your lecture. He didn’t care if it had cost him everything he owned, down to the clothes on his back - it was worth it to see that look on your face. “Don’t even start, sweetheart. One of Wayne’s friends at the plant has a wife who makes jewelry for a living. We got the family discount because she thought the idea was so dang adorable,” his voice pitches to mock the mystery woman, and it makes you tearily laugh some more. 

You look back down at the open locker, finger tracing over the opposite side from the photo. 

E. It’s engraved in cursive. As if you’d ever forget the initial of the boy in the photo - the boy in front of you. 

“You really had to choose the photo that made me look like a dork, didn’t you?” you softly tease under your breath, staring at the memory in unfiltered fondness. 

“Someone’s got to keep you humble,” he retorts. 

You ignore his comment, standing quickly and holding the necklace out to him, “Help me put it on?” 

He doesn’t hesitate to leap off the bed to your side, taking the chain gingerly before you turn and face your back to him. His movements are careful and deliberate as he brushes your hair off to the side, cold fingers skimming over your skin and sending shivers down your spine before he loops the necklace around the front of your chest. You can feel his warm breath on the nape of your neck as he fiddles with the clasp for a few moments before finding success. 

“Aha! Perfect,” he claps as you spin around, grinning giddily at the weight that sits naturally between your collarbones. It gives you a sense of security, a sense of comfort, a sense of home. 

“Thank you, Eddie,” you earnestly say, voice crumbling with emotions as your smile shines and you lift a hand to pinch the necklace between two fingers. The locket is smooth as you rub over it, “I love it.” 

His face reflects your happiness right back before you suddenly throw yourself forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. He returns it immediately, squeezing you back just as strongly. You both melt into the hug, comfortable as you eventually beginning to just-barely-sway in the middle of Eddie’s room, chests pressed together as hearts beat in sync. 

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your hair before placing a chaste kiss on your temple. 

“Merry Christmas, Eds.” 

You finally pull away, both of you returning to your original positions on the bed. Gifts are scattered around you, mixing with candy and wrappers, as Eddie pulls up his stocking and begins to shake it upside down. 

“There’s not any more gifts, Eddie, you already opened them-” you cut yourself off, the smile that had your cheeks aching still fading when a piece of paper flutters from his stocking. 

Oh no. 

“No more gifts, you say?” he smirks in your direction, picking up the folded note, “What’s this, then?” 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

You’d forgotten about that. When you’d been wrapping Eddie’s gifts the night before, Robin had joined you to keep you company. The two of you had broken into a few bottles of wine around the house when you had a bright idea (at least, at the time it seemed bright. Now, it was the dumbest idea you’d ever had. Ever.). Coupons for Eddie, ranging from redemption for kisses to redemption for more… explicit acts. To be fair, Robin had egged you on, knowing of your hopeless crush of two years on your best friend. You’d folded each ‘coupon’ and sealed them with kisses from red lipstick the two of you had dug out of your desk drawers. You’d chickened out when the buzz from the wine faded, and pulled all of the ridiculous notes out before properly filling the stocking with his actual gifts. 

Or at least, you thought you’d gotten all of the notes out. Clearly, you hadn’t. 

“Don’t open that!” you blurt out, lurching forward and attempting to snatch the paper from Eddie. It only makes his smirk grow, hand shooting out away from you, glancing wildly between you and the kiss-stained paper. 

“Now you’ve really got me curious,” he mocks, pulling a face at you as he brings the paper back to his face, beginning to unfold it. 

“No, Eddie, seriously, don’t read it. Please. It was so stupid, I- Robin and I were drinking, and I just…” you trail off in your explanation as he completely disregards you and his eyes trail over your scribbled words. 

You didn’t even know which one had been left behind. You could only hope it was one of the less vulgar ones. 

“Is this a joke?” he asks softly. You’re shocked - you’d expected merciless teasing. Not whatever look was currently in his eyes. 

“What?” you ask, trying to peer over to see what the paper said. Depending on which dumb coupon it was, your answer would change, “I- Sort of. Maybe. No. I don’t know.” 

You begin to wring your hands in your lap, waiting for him to respond. You felt so nauseated you considered escaping to the bathroom. Maybe you could die of embarrassment in the Munson men’s bathtub. 

But then you remember it’s the Munson men’s bathtub, and decide the better fate may lay here, Eddie glancing up at you with moving curiosity, eyebrows furrowed. 

Your cheeks burn crimson as you wish for the Earth to swallow you whole. 

“Yes or no? Is it a joke?” he asks again, a stern tone that manages to not come across angry. 

Your stomach and chest twist in sync, “No. It isn’t a joke.” 

Suddenly, Eddie is taking the note and thrusting it towards you, eyes blown wide and chest heaving. 

“Then I’d like to redeem it now, please.” 

You don’t realize it, but the room had started spinning the moment Eddie had read what was written down. It felt like a dream - a dream he’d indulged in with no hopes of it ever coming true for an embarrassingly long amount of time now. 

Your hands shake as you reach out to take the note from him, and you look down to see just how much drunk you had screwed you over in this moment. 

In your messy handwriting, it reads: Coupon for Eddie Munson - good for one (1) kiss. To be redeemed at Eddie’s discretion. 

You breathe out a sigh of relief, thankful it wasn't a vulgar one, before the reality of what Eddie had just requested hits you.  

“Did you just- did you just say you want to redeem it now?” 

Eddie nods, a determined look crossing his face, “Yes, please.” 

You both stare at each other for a moment, letting the emotions in the air sink in. It takes a moment before you both break out into withheld, shy smiles. 

“Okay,” you sigh. 

Before you can overthink it, you’re both leaning forward, Eddie’s hands cupping your cheeks as his lips meet yours tenderly. It’s just a peck, nothing more, but it sends your heart into cardiac arrest. You can still taste the jolly ranchers on his lips, and he tastes the sweet mint of the candy cane on yours. 

You both pull back slightly, his hands not leaving your face, knees pressing together. Your eyes had fluttered close, and you don’t have the guts to open them quite yet and face the consequences of what had just happened between the two of you. 

“I like you,” you admit quietly, your entire body tensing as you await rejection.

It doesn’t come. Instead, you’re met with the sound of Eddie’s gentle voice, “I like you, too.” 

Your eyes finally spring open to already find him staring at you with adoration. “You do?” 

“Of course I do, sweetheart. I let you touch my first sweetheart. I only give that privilege to the prettiest of girls,” he laughs, eyes flickering to your lips but still keeping his distance. 

“You’ve only let me have that privilege.” 

“Exactly.” 

He finally closes the distance again, lips slotting against yours as if they’re meant to be. Something clicks in the Universe, something that says that this is right and meant to happen. Two years of silent and hopeless pining, only to find out both your feelings were returned. It leaves the two of you delirious as you both deepen the kiss. Somehow, Eddie ends up scooting up his bed until his back meets the wall where his headboard would be if he had one, you straddling his lap. It’s all still so innocent; just the two of you, soft and sickly sweet kisses as you hold one another as if you expect the other to vanish. 

“Merry Christmas, Eds,” you repeat your earlier statement and reach up to his gifted locket on instinct now. It feels right. You and him this close, you and him kissing, the photo of you resting against your chest where it belongs. 

“Best Christmas ever,” he chuckles before he captures you in another kiss. 

He’s right. It’s safe to say the two of you struggle to ever top that Christmas. You make it a running joke to always include coupons in his stocking from that year on. Each year, the coupons get better, sometimes raunchy and sometimes just downright adorable. 

Good for one cuddle. 

Good for one blowjob (don’t waste it).

Good for one surprise date night. 

They’re always fairly clever, and each year, he thinks you get closer to topping that first note. 

But it’s not until years down the road, when the two of you sit across from each other in your now shared living room, in some big city you now call home, that he knows that he had finally topped that year. The look on your face when you dig into the bottom of your stocking, finding the small box that contains the diamond ring he’d been saving up for ever since that first kiss, tells him everything he needs to know. 

It’s still pretty nice when he hears you squeal yes out loud, though.

[luneesv]

Before everything | Joel Miller

╰┈➤ Joel Miller x M!Reader

[ english isn't my first language ]

You are an old friend of Joel, you remember the old days with him and Sarah during a cold morning, you remember the night when you fell in love with him.

The sun had just risen and you were alone, you were making coffee to warm up. Ellie and Joel weren't awake yet, you were alone and you felt a little bad after the events of Bill and Frank. You felt like you missed out on a part of your life because of the pandemic, but also because you never took the first step to ask Joel out. You loved him since the beginning, since you knew him when he lived with Tommy and Sarah.

You remembered the day when you met him, he had just come home from work in the night and he had a problem with his car, you helped him because he looked exhausted and to be honest, he made you feel sorry for him.

- hey do you need help ? you told him.

- uh.. no, well yes I do but I don't think you can help me.

You gave him an amused look before pushing him to repair the engine of his car, for you finding the problem was something obvious.

- I am a mechanic, you tell him while cleaning your hands with a cloth that was lying around, and I'm (y/n).

- I'm Joel, uh.. thanks man. He said visibly embarrassed by your gesture, he was clearly not good with people.

You smiled at him, you had just arrived in the neighborhood and you were afraid of not getting along with people but luckily you had found yourself someone interesting and rather attractive.

- So.. see you tomorrow ? You said.

- Yea I guess, he said vaguely, but my daughter is sleeping considering what time it is, and i need to clear my mind, you want a drink, in a bar ?

Your heart almost gave out at that moment, you nodded and you two, you had gone to the nearest bar, during the journey you were talking about your life, he was telling you about his daily life with his daughter and his brother, how much he loved them and what he would do everything for them, and you told him about your life before you came here and told it, a banal and morose life.

You had arrived and your heart was just beating, you sat down at the bar and he ordered two whiskeys for you. He only stared at you with his eyes, his expression remained expressionless as you told him a joke, but his eyes. You stared into his eyes, those brown eyes that made you want to dive in and to kiss him.

The drinks arrived and he started to drink his whiskey before ordering another, you barely drank your drink when your throat burned. You couldn't stand alcohol.

The more you drank, the more he opened up to you, he spoke more. He was just staring at you and at a time when the people was starting to go home, the light was getting less bright and that a romantic atmosphere was beginning to be felt.

- You are really handsome (y/n), he said maybe too loudly since the barman suddenly turned towards you, I'm telling you this as a man to man, I really want to kiss you, but it's weird, I've never felt that for a man.

Your heart was hurting you so much it was beating so hard, he put his hand on your shoulder before massaging it and bursting out laughing.

- I just can't stop thinking about your arm, glistening with motor oil, I swear you obsess me.

- Joel, you're.. you're drunk maybe you should stop talking. You said, your heart beating.

He shook his head, then his hand that was on your shoulder landed on your face, as well as his other hand that landed on your other cheek, forcing you to look at him.

- But (y/n) since I met you, I can't stop thinking about you, and I'm confused 'cause i'm.. i'm not gay ? Well I've never been attracted to a guy, even in porn I only watch the girl, but you.. I swear you're a..

He stopped talking and he kissed you. You were lost, confused, everything was happening so fast, you had known him for so little time and yet you wanted to kiss him too.

But you pushed him away, still today you don't know why but at that time you thought you were doing a good thing.

- Joel, please let me take you home, you drank too much, you... you're just talking nonsense..

He gave you a sad look before getting up.

- You're right, maybe I'm just drunk.. But I still love you so much..

You got up before putting his arm around your shoulders to lift him, he staggered and was only humming your name, in the middle of the night, with only the light of the street lamps to illuminate his face. Your heart kept beating thinking about what he just did.

- It's.. it's here, he said pointing at his house before opening it, trying for about ten minutes because he obviously forgot how to open a door.

He turned around, looking at you, face to face. He had an indescribable look on his face.

- Please love, come with me in my bed, you won't regret it.

At that moment, you're still wondering why you chose to refuse, to watch his door close behind Joel who looked disappointed. Even then you knew you had made a mistake.

The next day, you saw him in the morning, he was drinking his coffee, wearing the same pants as yesterday but with a white tank top.

- Hello Joel ! You said happy to see him again.

- Oh.. hello (y/n). He tells you, a shameful look on his face.

- Are you okay ? You know after yesterday's night haha.

- About that, I was drunk yesterday, I didn't know what I was saying, I... forget everything. Sorry if I gave you false hopes but.. you are not what I am looking for. I'm actually looking for nothing..

You looked at him, still planted in front of him, the heart which had stopped beating. You wanted him to tell you that he was laughing, that he still loved you, as much as last night. You wanted him to take you in his arms. You wanted to go back and come to his house, come with him to his bed. But even now you wondered if he would have had the same reaction.

- I mean.. of course. You were drunk, and you were certainly confused, but you know, if you want tonight we can have dinner together if you're free, because-

His door had just opened and a girl had just come out of the house looking at her father and then at you.

- Hi ! You're the new neighbor ? Finally one that isn't old! You're my father's age right? You look a little younger than him tho-

- Sarah.

- Sorry dad.. She said, a smile on the lips.

- Yes I am haha. And I think so ? I love your outfit ! You are really very pretty.. Sarah that's it ? You said smiling at her.

- Thanks ! And yes it's Sarah, she answered you before to turn to her father, can he eat breakfast with us ?

Joel gave him a vague look before looking at you, but this time you could spot sadness or maybe shame in his eyes, which yesterday made you feel like a king.

- No, he was going to leave when you arrived.

You didn't understand anything, and you still hoped that he would change his mind, that he would tell you that he still loved you, that it hadn't changed. You wanted everything to go back to how it was last night.

- That's right, bye Sarah, and bye Joel.. See you soon. You said, walking back home, hands shaking.

After that day, luckily, you often came to their house, to help Sarah with her homework or fix things, but it was just an excuse to see Joel again. He seemed less cold with you but never again did he have a romantic gesture towards you. You bottled up these feelings for so long..

When the pandemic arrived, when Sarah died and when Joel lost everything, you were there for him. He couldn't sleep for days and one night, he came to see you, he lay down next to you and he fell asleep, taking you in his arms. You pretended to sleep but you were well aware. Your heart had started beating again. And you felt his calming down. The morning after, he didn't leave, he didn't pretend, he just cried, and you hugged him. For 30 minutes you were glued to each other, for half an hour, the infected, the bombardments, the pandemic, everything was not important.

After that night and morning, Joel started to act as if nothing had happened.

Sometimes you regret not having broached the subject, but also for not having stayed with him that night when he begged you to come with him in his bed.

He was the first to wake up and scare you. Removing you from your memories.

- Good morning (y/n).

You turn back to him, who decided to sit down across from you, staring longingly at your coffee.

- Good morning, Joel, you want some ?

- Yea. You were thinking of something ?

You gave him a thoughtful look, you passed him your coffee thermostat and decided after all these years to finally talk to him.

- Yea, I was thinking of us.

--

hii thank you sm for reading my one shot ! it's my first one and I hope you liked it <3 Anyway have a great day or night !

[thealmightyemprex]

The Emprex Goofs on Piano Man by Billy Joel

SO I love Piano Man by Billy Joel ,its great classic song....But if you listen to anything too much you cant help but poke fun at it .This is done from a place of love

Before I begin heres the song for if its been a while and you havent heard it at all

LIstened to it ? Good,lets begin

"It's nine o'clock on a Saturday The regular crowd shuffles in"

Which is odd cause it was Nine AM

"There's an old man sittin' next to me Makin' love to his tonic and gin"

I think you can get arrested for that ,also dont touch that glass

"He says, "Son can you play me a memory?"

BIlly:No I am a pianist !I can play songs.Thats like asking a baker to make you a pastry made out of dreams ands rainbows ...Idiot

I'm not really sure how it goes"

Billy:SO you want me to play a memory .....YOu dont remember

But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete When I wore a younger man's clothes"

Old Man:Course that younger man is currently buried in pieces around Nevada -

La, la-la, di-di-da La-la di-di-da da-dum

Ah great Billys having a stroke again

"Sing us a song, you're the piano man Sing us a song tonight"

Billy:Ya know you dont have to be pushy

"Well, we're all in the mood for a melody And you've got us feelin' alright"

Way better then taking anti depressents

Now John at the bar is a friend of mine He gets me my drinks for free And he's quick with a joke, or to light up your smoke But there's some place that he'd rather be

Ah,Wisconsin

He says, "Bill, I believe this is killing me" As a smile ran away from his face

John :Yeah can you get this knife out of my back

"Well, I'm sure that I could be a movie star If I could get out of this place"

John:SAdly due to my pack with Satan ,my soul is tethered to this bar

Oh, la, la-la, di-di-da La-la di-di-da da-dum

Billy I think you need to go to a doctor

Now Paul is a real estate novelist Who never had time for a wife

Did find time for a husband though

And he's talkin' with Davy, who's still in the navy And probably will be for life

.....You just wanted to rhyme Davey and Navy

And the waitress is practicing politics

Annnnnnnd insert your own joke here

As the businessmen slowly get stoned

Well he was a blasphemer

Yes, they're sharing a drink they call loneliness But it's better than drinkin' alone

No joke here thats just a good lyric

Sing us the song, you're the piano man Sing us a song tonight

BIllyQUIT BEING PUSHY

Well, we're all in the mood for a melody And you've got us feelin' alright

Not great but alright

It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday And the manager gives me a smile

Manager :

'Cause he knows that it's me they've been comin' to see

Yeah the drinks are basically tap water and food is barely edible but the tunes are nice

To forget about life for a while"

Course its due to the fact the piano is cursed

And the piano, it sounds like a carnival

WEll duh look at the co owner

And the microphone smells like a beer

Yeah sorry Billy,someone spilt a beer on it thing doesnt even work

And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar\

Billy :Id prefer money but Bread is nice

And say man what are you doin' here?

....Playing a piano ? Thats kind of his job

Oh, la, la-la, di-di-da La-la di-di-da da-dum

BILLY FOR GODS SAKE GO TO A DOCTOR

Sing us the song, you're the piano man Sing us a song tonight

Billy:WEll I am out of practice on my SOndheim but TOoooonigghht,tonight,it all began tonight-

Well, we're all in the mood for a melody And you've got us feelin' alright

You are profoundly adequite

Well that was a bit of nonesense I have wanted to do for years

@ariel-seagull-wings @theancientvaleofsoulmaking @the-blue-fairie @themousefromfantasyland @princesssarisa @minimumheadroom @angelixgutz @amalthea9 @filmcityworld1

[currentlyfckingurmom]

Her Song part 4

"Do you think I should've kept her home from school?" I nervously ask Ash as we're seated behind the cafe counter, waiting for any customers.

"No, Y/N. The kid had a migraine, not an aneurysm. She felt fine last night and this morning, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, there you go. You can't protect her from everything. Just relax and enjoy Blondie singing about being 22 and getting hammered," Ash concludes.

"The song means so much more than that, you know. I thought I taught you better than this," I scold her.

"I know, but that's not the point. When's the last time you even went out?"

"I 'went out' plenty when I was dancing in a thong to afford the mountain of bills that comes with a newborn baby," I remind her bitterly.

"Right, sorry. But, c'mon, it can be fun if you're with the right people. Or person. As in a single woman, maybe blonde...British..." she trails off with a suggestive smirk.

"Stop. Literally stop, Ash. You're freakin' weird. I've met her like twice. Besides, she's like a totally amazing, famous actress and I'm...well, I'm me."

"Shut the fuck up. Stop acting like you aren't amazing," she snaps.

"I'm twenty-one and I have a kid, Ash. Not many people are gonna wanna take that on. Especially not people my age."

"So go for a MILF. Simple. Hey, maybe the Brit will introduce you to Scarlett Johansson," she suggests with a proud smile as if she just unmasked Jack the Ripper and provided a solution to everything.

"Oh god. Please stop."

"Never. You need to have some fun."

"According to my hometown, I've already have plenty of fun," I joke.

"That's not funny, Y/N. Those fuckers are dumb for ever believing him over you," Ash states seriously.

Whatever smart remark I was about to make was cut off by the door opening, and in walked the very woman that had plagued my mind ever since she walked in that rainy day. She quickly catches my eye and begins to walk toward us with a sweet, handsomely crooked smile.

"Good morning, Florence. How are you today?" I greet her.

"I'm doing well. How are you?"

"Oh, she's doing a lot better now," Ash butts in from beside me. I deliver a swift kick to her lower leg in retaliation and confusion blossoms across Florence's face at Ash's wince.

"Sorry, she's, um, I'm- tea?" I stammer, feeling my face heat up to my ears.

Laughing, she nods and says, "Yes, please. That would be lovely."

"For here?" I ask, to which she nods. "Coming right up, then."

I work silently, ducking my head to avoid eye contact as Ash and Florence make small talk. I hear Florence ask, "You all seem pretty young to be working here alone. Is this shop locally owned?"

"Um yeah, actually, I own it," I interject timidly.

"Oh, no way! That's so cool! How old are you lot, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Ash and I are both 21, and David is 24," I tell her as I set her tea down in front of her.

"That's amazing. There aren't enough young entrepreneurs in the world. I mean, everybody just thinks they have to take this set-in-stone path and I love how our generation just decided that societal norms needed a change-up," she gushes adorably.

"I couldn't agree more," I chuckle. "Do you work around here?"

"I live in apartment a few blocks up the road and I work a few blocks further down. Which is why I'm always walking by and stopping in. I promise I'm not a stalker or anything."

"Hm, are you sure you're not a stalker? I could totally see you being a stalker. Maybe even add a sprinkle of psychopathy in the mix," I tease with faux seriousness.

"Oh, is that what you think of me?" she kids with a smirk.

"Wow, I'm really starting to feel like a third wheel. Bosslady, if you're gonna keep flirting, can I take my break?" Ash interjects.

Just like that, the vibrant blush returns to my cheeks. "Sure, go ahead."

She wiggles her eyebrows at me as she makes her escape, and I'm very tempted to throw a bag of coffee grounds at her head.

Florence's phone dings and she checks the message before saying, "That's my work. I've got to go. Thank you for the tea, Y/N."

"Anytime, Florence."

She stands up and just before she reaches the door, I get the feeling that I forgot something. "Hey, wait!" I call. "Have you listened to Red (Taylor's Version)? It just dropped," I ask, gesturing to the speakers currently playing "Holy Ground" in the shop.

"Yes, I have. One of my friends is obsessed with Taylor Swift," she replies, laughing.

"Oh, well, have you heard "Enchanted" off of Speak Now?"

"No, I don't believe I have."

"Well, uh, I think you should. Listen to it, I mean. I really like it," I tell her as I fiddle with the corner of a napkin. And I was enchanted to meet you, I think to myself.

"I will definitely give it a listen. I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N."

"See you tomorrow, Florence," I say as she leaves the shop. "Wait, tomorrow? Does that mean she's coming back tomorrow?" I ask myself out loud.

"Yes, you clueless idiot," Ash says as she emerges from the backroom, scaring the shit out of me.

Recovering from my mini heart attack, I glare at her. "People really need to stop scaring me like that. At this rate, my heart's not gonna make it to 25."

"Then stop being such an easy target."

"You're very annoying today, Ashlynn."

"Mhm, sure, whatever. That whole situation with Florence, by the way, kinda gay. Just sayin'."

"Don't you have some jackass of a dude to call or something?"

"Jeez, no need for the attitude."

[mickgaydolenz]

okay so it is 2:09 AM as I type this but I've been thinking about it all day so I'm gonna tell you

last year I decided I needed some me time so I grabbed a book and some cash and went down to the cafe near me and sat at a single-person table because I was pretty sure I wasn't going to order anything just liked the ambiance, but I sat on the patio and across from me was a lovely old couple and whenever I'd accidentally make eye contact we smiled and it was nice and friendly and the staff knew I wasn't going to order because I had asked them if it was okay if I just read and they said yeah, but the waitress came out and asked me if I wanted a cookie, now, normally I don't eat cookies because they hurt my teeth but I was kinda panicking so I said yes, then she asked me which kind, Chocolate Rosemary or Oatmeal, the choice is obvious, and when she came back it was the BIGGEST COOKIE I'D EVER SEEN like dude the thing was no joke the size of my damn head, and when I was done and ready to head home and I asked for my check the waitres told me that the old couple had pAID FOR MY BILL. WHICH WAS NOTHING BECAUSE THEN I FOUND OUT THE COOKIE WAS FREE??? so you bet your tooshie I tipped my waitress heavily, and on my way out one of the waiters asked me if I'd been here before which yes I had but it was under embarrassing circumstances, in short I ordered seven burritos in the middle of the night, but since I didn't wanna be known to them as the burrito girl I told him this was my first time here, and he said, "huh, so weird, your face is very familiar looking," and I shrugged and said "guess I've got one of those faces!" (never been more thankful for my acting classes) but like honestly props to that buy because when I ordered all those burritos I was in a sweatshirt and baseball cap and when I had gone that time I had my hair pulled back and a headband on and stuff, so good for him for remembering un-important faces. but yeah, just felt you telling you this. it is now 2:17 AM. good night :)

that's such a cute story, love when people are just genuinely nice and kind to each other 💖🥹!!! also, raya, i'm fucking sorry, but why...why did you order seven burritos in the middle of the night!?

[matthewsepicwriting]

“I can’t describe how good this coffee is, so I won’t”

that’s the original title so hell yes I’m keeping it

(Btw the ending is a joke, I thought I was funny asf back then)

A sigh escapes Norton's lips as he's walking through town "I need inspiration, there's no way I can continue writing if I stay cooped up in my apartment room.

Lately, Norton has been having a tough case of writers block, probably due to the fact he hasn't had much time to get out or do many things. College exams are coming up soon and he can barely keep his eyes open due to studying so late.

Norton stops at a small coffee shop, not many people are there by the looks of it. He sighs again and enters the small cafe. The atmosphere is nice, calm, and pretty quiet. Maybe he should come here to relax more often.

He finds an empty table to set his tattered old laptop, it's about time for a new one, but then again he's rather eat this week, bills are tough! Sometimes he wonders if his roommate naib even pays his part of the bills.

He anxiously makes his way to the counter. He's greeted by a short and pretty peppy kid. Fluffy, untamed hair, crazy freckles plastered all over his cheeks, and two different colored eyes, which is pretty rare.

"Hi! May I take your order sir??" He smiles brightly at the raven haired male in front of him. Yep, as expected, he's as enthusiastic as he looks.

"I-uhm, I guess the pumpkin spice latte?" He scratches the back of his neck. "Alright!!" The blondie beams a smile.

He watches Norton slowly make his way back to the table, then dashes over to his co-worker. "Lucky!! Ya gotta help me!". The freckled red head in front of him gives him a worried frown "mike, please quiet down".

"Sorry- but there's this guy I just took his order and he looks really nice and I want to get his number but I'm not sure-". Lucky covers the mikes mouth and quickly replies "slow down! I can barely tell what your saying!"

"Sorry, sorry. I want this guys number, but I'm not sure how to get it, you've gotta help me man!!" He shakes his friend. "Maybe write your number on his coffee cup? Sorry I'm not really good with this dating stuff" the red head chuckles nervously.

"Oh, not a bad idea, thanks lucky!". Before lucky can even think of a reply mike leaves in a flash to whip up that pumpkin spice latte. Mike nervously makes his way to the counter and calls out Norton's name. "I have an order for...Norton Campbell?" He looks around.

Norton hears his name being called and looks up from his laptop. "Oh, I forgot I even ordered something." He didn't really come here for the drink, he just needed somewhere nice to work, and It would be rude not to order anything.

Mike waits a minute then sees the man return. It was pretty rare and out of character for mike to be nervous, he was usually confident and peppy towards customers. He quickly hands Norton his drink "here's your order sir!". Norton takes the drink "thanks". He pays for the drink and sits back down.

Norton doesn't even notice the number on the cup and proceeds to drink out of it. Mike, watching from afar, sees the man not even take a glance at the writing. "Aw man, I thought I might have a chance, and I was really cute to" he pouts.

Lucky comes by and pays his shoulder "hey, maybe next time. He may come back, you never know!". Mike gives him a small smile and lucky responds with a wink and a thumbs up.

It's been two hours, and Norton had already completed five chapters! Not bad at all. He'll definitely come back to write more often. But it's been long enough and he needs to get home and have dinner. Norton shoves his old laptop into his bag and grabs the unfinished coffee, and proceeds to leave the shop.

…

Norton gets hit by a car on the way home and slips into a three year coma. He wakes up to see he's lying in a junkyard

[castle-dominion]

going to watch rise 4x1 audio commentary I think. director/exec producer rob bowman, actors jon huertas, seamus dever, tamala jones

while eating supper & you play him well Yeah as much info as short as u can!

TJ: This was a hard day bc everybody was joking around & I had to cry & be serious! She went to go touch her chin but had blood on her

SD: It was hard because usually you're listening to the other actor but here we were both just yelling into our phones walking down the hallway as fast as we can & I'm like "I keep saying your lines bro" TJ: what was really hard was being strapped to that gurney, trying to get lines out, bursting through doors

Good! They got a med tech in there helping choreograph

They didn't show the shove I gave him back tho

Susan sullivan is a great actress. Marta, the butcher of south london. She cuts for emotion, doesn't care what your story board said.

Yeah I was actually thinking about how they wree just... in the hallway. I didn't care tho I just assumed I was being silly.

& [the rifle] is pointing at castle See that's a good director.

your WHAT NOW? I know you called him mystery man, the other name, no not shadow man either, that name: deep throat. Pardon me??

WAIT WHAT SHADOW MAN WAS THE DOCTOR WALKING BEHIND CASTLE WHEN CASTLE CHECKS HIS HAIR????? Seemingly an ally

TJ while RB is talking about ILYs & GSWs: could that man be any hotter?

RB: i had to promise stana that I would make her look like a cadaver

RB: did she hear it did she not? Me: Oh who knows? She probably DID hear it, but she claimed to remember everything & there is NO WAY she remembers everything. TJ: Oh she heard it she just chose not to answer

I didn't even notice that the man had two phones, funnily enough it was a flip phone & a touchscreen

"we were scared it was going to be an 80s movie"

TJ, interrupting the convo: OH MY GOD SD: stop looking at my ass TJ: SEAMUS, YOUR BUTT SD: don't look at my ass there TJ: I AM LOOKING AT YOUR BUTT SD: Idk why it was lit so well! TJ: THEY WERE JUST PERKED UP, THEY WERE LIKE SITTING UP HIGH, like boing-oing-oing-oing-oing SD: why did Bill light my ass so-- RB: Children may be watching this *laughter, "sorry," & convo goes back to looking like an 80s movie* my mom when we paused to laugh: (speaking at TJ) "They were just Up There, right at eye level!" *holds her hands up to show how "perked up" his booty was* mister seamus dever if you're reading this (if you are then: why? that's weird) I would like to apologize for the actions of myself & my mom & my (hot+gay) older bro (I'll give u his # /j)

SD: Penny. Jonas. Jerald. PJJ as we--.. as I call her. I didn't even as. RB: affetionately

Well bc she's a woman in a male dominated place. Like big bro's mash character. I had a teacher once, I'd say "yes ma'am" all the time but she said it made her feel old. She told me to call her superstar or smth so I started saying "you got it superstar" & it was nice. She even wrote it on my IPP/PLP/SP once. Then FNAF came out & everyone thought I was quoting freddy but I had been saying it for years before freddy.

Paranoid ryan <3 he wasn't paranoid he was just noid

JH/JE: I shoot [gates] winks every once in a while that's my plan SD/KR: I think you're hitting on her

SD: I like how my character has knowledg eof people magazine RB: seam-lessly ; )

wow ok I just had to make a card, STOP making a card, sign a card that someone miscommunicated with my abt, break down & put away my calligraphy pen, listen to my older brother rant about the new DHMIS (which I'm excited abt too) & then listen to "the one thing they can never replace" by john mulaney. Wow

I was right! When I saw the superhero episode I knew it was her! SD: When my wife saw it she was like "Who is that? Why was she so featured?" & I went 'just keep watching, watch next week.'

NO, there was that one time when they made a bet on a murder & caskett was working on one murder & rysposito was working on the other, ofc eventually they became the same case but other than that

THE WHAT? PAPARAZZI UNDERWEAR? WAIT WHAT

they're just watching now, not commenting

SD: I want to hear her, "hey beckett can you get me a cup of coffee?" 'I WAS SHOT IN THE CHEST'

Oh yeah the nanny episode but no they did not sit on the swingset I love hearing them talk about framing & set & decisions

We're in the middle of a third act & we're like "hey so what's the murder about"

oh I didn't notice they remodeled the captain's office! hm! I'm glad they mentioned & explained that. traditional vs masculine, power, all that good stuff. JH: nice grouping

TJ: Gates has a wedding band on. Is she married? RB: Yes to the guy who killed beckett RB: no, idk TJ: but is she with a guy or a girl? Nah she's sadly def with a man. Everyone: but it's new york, it's new york state, *implying that they can still give her a wife* wait holy crap this is before 2015. ny was 2011 tho apparently.

HOLY CRAP that whistle scared me, my older bro has a whistle that means my little brother & a whistle that means me, like in the sound of music, & whenever I hear it I always look. One time a friend at culinary school just whistled, then my head shot up & I was staring at him & he was kind of scared like "what? why are you looking at me" & I had to explain that my brother's whistle language that was like calling my name. Then he would occasionally do it on purpose just to see me jump in shock "big bro isn't here is he?" & there was actually one time we were both heading in to school late, around 6.45am & he whistled from the other hallway & we were able to say hi.

"some parts of this story are dramatized for impact" "JON LEFT WITHOUT TELLING ANYBODY"

Bubble wrap...?

Yeah. I couldn't even see the amps sorry.

You're a drummer rob? They totally should have had him cameo as the frummer in the band or smth

SD: we're playing that jon (JE) is the only one that can talk to her & I (kr) kind of freeze up. Also u apparently can't lie. espt trained not to give up information RB: PJJ came up to me & asked where she was & I said "You're learning very quickly that they all lie" & she's figuring out what to tolerate & what to punish bc they still solve murders. "& we're trying to figure out how we feel about her"

Beckett's place is a permanent set now!

"I give you enough close-ups, you don't need to say that" SD: when other directors tell me 'take your time think through your lines' I say "When you tell me that I get a visual image of rob bowman looking at a watch" (I think /j) just see rob in editing looking over marta's shoulder (sd speaking as marta) "who directed this, rob?"

What is e4? big speeches? wait is that 3xk number two? Ooh I hope they do commentary on that one wait no it is #4, they would not comment on it, crud.

RB as castle: "I'm just a writer who got bored, now I'm getting scary phone calls from scary people"

TJ: Molly has grown <3 uwu RB: Yeah I remember back when she was sweet TJ, sounding like she'd slap him: She's still sweet! RB: not what I meant SD: She's a cagey adult JH: She's a cagey teenager SD: She's a cagey teenager JH: She's a cagey teenager who thinks she's an adult TJ: She schooled me in some of my scenes!

TJ, interrupting the emotional "let becks solve the case" moment they're discussing: Ok girlie moment, Look at that place! Who wouldn't want that? *nice bed, nice furniture, nice wall,* RB: *continues talking about castle teeing beckett up* SD+JH laugh: nobody followed up to your girly moment 'cause you're the only girl here right now you know that might be fun, have all the gals comment. SK MQ SS TJ, prolific women BTS too

RB: Castle can't lift the mattress & carry the scene at the same time JH+SD: No he just couldn't lift the mattress, it was a heavy mattress

rock star skinny jeans apparently my aunt had a friend who would get dressed in the bathtub & let her pants dry to her skin bc they were that tight

JH: Good thing she's there rn bc esposito would have shot that guy by now TJ: right between the eyes JH: hell yeah (ew, cops are not lawyers nor judges, they don't have that power)

SD: Speaking of shotguns do you know what jon got be for christmas? Um what? I have farming family we have guns, I have metis family we go hunting, but us in the city? We don't. Do regular actors living in the big city have guns? just? have guns? get each other guns for xmas? I thought it was really cool for a sec until I realized that he really had no need for a gun. None of my business tho! Guns are fascinating! I mean, if you want to fight someone, do it the honourable way with fists & feet but this is none of my business. I mean he has to protect his home from the impending apocalypse ig.

for now <3

TJ is SO right.

JH: He's got a touch screen too? SD: He's rich of course he's got a touchscreen

Michael Dorn JH: Fanboy moment, I was wrapped & I just hung out for 45 minutes just bc I wanted to meet him

everyone else: thanks for watching SD: *whistling the outro music*

[thereaderinsertlady]

(I hope I'm not too late on this) for the valentines thing, could I get a oneshot(?) with Bill Cipher, where he tries to flirt with you but is laughably bad at it? Ty, sorry I'm submitting this so late!🌹🌼🌻

Happy late Valentine's Day lol; here's the link for this fic on ao3. And, don't worry about submitting it just before the deadline. I don't mind! I'm just glad you submitted a request for the event! Hope you enjoy!~

Bill Cipher x Reader - Eggs and Toast

“Hey, how do monsters like their eggs cooked? Terri-fried!”

You couldn’t stop the snort that escaped you, and you turned your head to look over to Bill Cipher, who was sitting at the table. “Bill... was that your attempt at flirting? That’s not even... that’s straight up a joke, bud. That isn’t flirting,” you said, before flipping one of the eggs in the pan in front of you.

Bill Cipher huffed, folding his little arms. “I can’t think of any ways to use eggs in flirting!”

“You don’t have to use eggs while flirting,” you told him while looking back at the pan. “Try again.”

Bill pouted this time, and kicked his legs back and forth as he tried to think up of a one-liner... “Oh, oh! If you were a fruit, you’d be a cute-cumber!”

You scoffed. “Bill, I don’t think a cucumber is a fruit.”

“It most certainly is a fruit! Look it up on that rectangle you stare at every day.”

You rolled your eyes, and pulled out your phone, seeing if a cucumber really was a fruit... After a short pause, you stared at the screen in horror. “Oh... it really is a fruit... What the fuck.”

“See, I told ya so!” Bill pointed at you, leaning against the table.

You grunted, before putting away your phone. “Still doesn’t change the fact that you’re horrible at flirting.”

“...Oh, now that’s just mean,” Bill Cipher huffed.

“When did I say I was nice?” You snorted, flipping another one of the eggs in the pan.

“You act awfully nice! Especially to strangers! Did anyone ever tell ya about stranger danger, ‘cause it’s real! There’s some awful people out there!”

A smile creeped up on your face. “Didn’t you say that you were an awful person at some point?” You let out a short huff of laughter when Bill giggled. “You’re so silly, Bill...”

“Well, you’re so silly, that... uh, that you’re cute!”

“Go back to the drawing board, Billy. You still can’t flirt,” you said, your smile growing.

He huffed, leaning back in his chair. “You mortals are just so rude,” he tutted. “Back in the old days, we’d just call each other mean names! None of this newer ‘fake being nice’ generation.”

“Well, back in the old days, people would get beaten up more,” you chuckled, before grabbing two plates from a high cabinet above the counter.

“Yes,” Bill agreed, “but it made them tougher! Stronger, even! Now all you humans are such big babies about everything.”

You set a plate in front of Bill, which had two eggs and a piece of toast, before going over to sit across from him, placing the other plate in front of yourself. “Uh-huh. I thought you said that humans were always big babies?”

Bill Cipher huffed while picking up his fork. “Yes, but now you all are even bigger babies than before!”

“And you aren’t a big baby?” You grinned, raising an eyebrow.

The rest of the morning was filled with banter, and neither side was ‘losing’ or ‘winning.’ Bill tried to flirt with you a couple more times— which, was very endearing how determined he seemed to try and make a decent comment, but he still managed to miss his mark every. Single. Time.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Vicious

Part II

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, all characters are adults.

Words: 1891.

Part I

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

P.S. To avoid any confusion, I changed the name Savages -> Vicious.

________________________

The next day you spent doubting your own decisions. Was it really wise to leave everything to Steve? How could he find those students all by himself and deal with your problem? Could he really stop them from acting like that? You thought once again it would be so much easier to ask for a transfer, but you had already given him your word to meet him today at 5. It would be very inappropriate not to come when he was trying to help you.

When the time came, you were sneaking in the student council room as if you were some petty thief. You were afraid people would start talking: if everybody knew who stole your things, they would understand you came to Steve for help like a little girl. It was embarrassing - even in a situation like this. Besides, somebody could be following you since at 5 pm the academy was almost empty.

By the time you reached the right door, you heart was beating as if you had just run a marathon. You really, really hoped Steve found some solution, and you wouldn’t have to be humiliated by the student advisor for wanting to leave the school.

Opening the door, you saw a couple of students on the sofa and quickly stepped away, afraid the student council was still having a meeting, “Ugh, sorry!”

“Come in, please,” Steve said calmly behind the door, and you shyly got in again, watching four other guys staring at you with interest. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“What, they too?” You were so perplexed by his words you forgot your manners, speaking of others as if they weren’t in the same room. “I’m sorry, I mean, I didn’t know you were involved.”

Wait, were they the ones who stole your things? Did Steve bring them here for you?

“No need to be so nervous.” One of them, a guy with long, jet black hair forming waves around his shoulders told you, motioning you to come closer and sit in one of the chairs opposing the sofa where he sat. “We’re here to help you.”

You remembered his name was Loki. A mathematic genius, he was considered one of the top students of the academy.

“That’s right! Come, come!” Seeing Peter among others was surprising, but his smiling face made you calm down a little, and you smiled at him in return. 

No, they weren’t those guys who stole your underwear, for sure. Apparently, Steve asked them to join you because they knew something and could give you a hand in finding those bastards.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me.” Feeling a little self-conscious among five different men you'd barely known, you landed on one of the chairs and saw that the other two were Bucky and a captain of the academy’s basketball team, Thor. “Did you find out anything?”

“Yes,” Steve said with a loud sigh, “I know exactly who they are. I can hand them over to the school’s officials and get them expelled by tomorrow, but that’s not the real issue here.”

You felt the chills ran up your back. What did he mean by the real issue?

“Is there something else?”

When you saw Loki smirking at you, you suddenly realized you were among five strong men in the student council room on the fifth floor where most classrooms were already empty. If you screamed, nobody would even hear you.

“Stop it.” Bucky’s angry voice cut through the silence, and you saw him literally burning a hole in Loki’s face. “Don’t make her scared, freak.”

Obviously, he wanted to say something offensive to Barnes in return, but Steve silenced them both with his icy glare. Loki sent him an innocent smile while Bucky snorted and rolled his eyes in irritation. It felt like they were in the middle of some school play, and you bit down on your lower lip, having a feeling something was going horribly wrong.

“The thing is, even if we got those ones expelled, it probably won’t stop the others from doing something similar.” Steve leaned up against a desk with his arms crossed over his chest. “I feel terrible admitting it, but many of our students are completely wild. I’m afraid they might keep harassing you.”

“Oh.”

You averted your eyes, realizing your attempts to find a solution were futile. Obviously, Steve could do nothing - he wasn’t a knight in shining armor, ready to protect you day and night from those delinquents who followed you everywhere. As you thought before, the one thing that could help here was leaving the school for good.

Shit, you didn’t know how to explain it to your family, Even your friends thought it was too bizarre to be true and laughed at your worries, saying you probably lost your things yourself. You would have to find a better excuse for a transfer in the middle of the semester.

“Well, anyway, thank you for trying,” you nodded and smiled apologetically at him as if it were your fault, “tomorrow I will talk to the student advisor about my transfer. Sorry for the trouble!”

“I don’t think it’s real to get transferred by now. It’s passed all the deadlines.” Shaking his head, Bucky raised his voice, and you felt suffocating.

Apparently, you would really have to skip a whole year of school. Explaining everything to your family, looking for some garbage job to have enough money to rent a room and pay your bills... Fantastic.

“You don’t have to do that. I’ve found another way.” 

Immediately, you raised your head, your pupils dilating.

“You see, the reason they are doing that is because you have no one to protect you. They know the administration won’t take it seriously because they’re a bunch of old misogynists, and you also have no means of protecting yourself. It would be better if you started dating someone, someone strong enough to make these guys back down.”

Steve looked deadly serious for someone saying such nonsense. A boyfriend? Now? Was he for real? Did he think you'd be using someone like your personal shield? Besides, even if you chose the strongest guy at school, it didn’t mean he would be stronger if several people attacked him.

But when you shared your thoughts with Steve, you saw others smiling at you as if they knew you would say that, and you felt uneasy.

“That’s true. That’s why you need more than one boyfriend.”

“What do you mean? How can somebody have more than one boyfriend?" Puzzled, you stared at him wide-eyed as if he said something stupid.

What on Earth did he mean by that? Were you to have your own squad of bodyguards at all times while you were in the academy? This was so foolish you couldn't believe someone like Steve said it out loud.

But then you caught glances of five men in the room and forgot how to breathe for a second. They weren't serious, were they? Steve didn't assemble all these guys here to make them into your boyfriends. It was preposterous even thinking of that, right?

Right?

"Please tell me it's not what I think it is." You muttered, crossing your arms over your chest as if trying to protect yourself.

"Why are you being so nervous?" Baring his teeth, Loki smiled at you. "Some other girl would be happy if five men were to be her boyfriends."

"It's a joke, right? You're all joking."

You hoped to see any of them laughing and nodding their heads, saying they simply wanted to cheer you up, but all you saw was a guilty expression on the faces of Bucky and Thor and the excitement of others. They really gathered here to offer you this.

"All of us here," Steve looked upon others, becoming a little displeased when his gaze fell upon smiling Peter, "are perfectly capable of helping you. If each of us were to accompany you one day a week, others won't be so brave. I'm sure they will no longer be a nuisance to you if they know what we can do to them."

There was something very dark in the way Steve said that, and for a couple of seconds you weren't sure whether you have to be more scared of him rather than those who was stealing your things.

"But it would be very uncomfortable for everyone, wouldn't it? I mean, going with me everywhere, not using your own time as you'd like. And, well, surely, others will see that we won't act like a real couple, so they might still keep harassing me. I don't think it would work."

Apparently, Loki was bored with this talk, you thought as you heard him clicking his tongue in annoyance.

"Then don't pretend. Act like a real girlfriend. Kiss in public, hug, go to the cinema together, what else girls do?"

"Wait, you mean, with ALL of you?"

"Yeah? Do you think anyone gonna be against it?"

You very much hoped they would be. Being followed by someone like your bodyguard was one thing, but having a real boyfriend was very different. Did they really want to pretend to be lovey-dovey with you? Act like you were close to them?

Oh. Of course, they would. They belonged to the same kind of touch-starved barbaric men they were trying to protect you from. They would do all those things to you, too.

You realized you were crying only when Peter flew off his seat in a hurry and squatted down beside you, taking your shaking hands in warm his.

"Please, don't cry. Nobody's gonna force you into doing anything, I promise. You will only do things you're comfortable with, ok?" Handing you his pearly white handkerchief, he smiled to comfort you. "No one of us gonna say anything."

"And if she starts dating one of us for real? What's then?" It was Loki again, cocking his head to the side and obviously provoking Peter to yell at him.

"We'll be ok with that, too."

The silence felt heavy. As you opened your eyes, Peter's handkerchief in your hands, you realized it was Thor who spoke for the first time, and the way he looked at you softly made you feel a little better. Despite the fact you knew little of him, for some reason, it felt like you would be safe with him - certainly safer than with Loki.

"Naturally, if any of us will bring you discomfort or do something unacceptable, you need to let us all know, and we'll decide what to do with that person." Raising his voice, the head of the student council made everyone to turn their head to him. "We will be meeting here, in this room, if anything happens. Each of us will give you our phone numbers. We will also make a schedule who accompanies you every day of the week."

It seemed he no longer asked for your opinion if you even wanted it to happen.

__________

"Bucky will be with you on Mondays, Loki on Tuesdays. Wednesdays are Thor's, on Thursdays Peter will be following you, and on Fridays it will be me going with you. Of course, if you need any of us to watch over you on weekends, feel free to contact whoever of us you like more."

Part III

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @stupendouslovegarden

[efyra]

Bubble Bath • Fred Weasley

pairing: dad!fred weasley x mom!reader

summary: after an exhausting day at work, fred comes back home to his wonderful family.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: fluff (?); mentions of sex.

author’s note: i had a dream about having kids with fred and this idea came into my mind - so i just had to write it?

like always, i’m sorry for any grammar mistake 🥺

reblogs are always welcome

you can check my other works here

The first time Fred Weasley thought "bloody hell, this must be the happiest day of my life" - which he could remember - was in a summer of 1985 when Bill and Charlie taught him and George how to play Exploding Snap. The second was when he started his studies at Hogwarts in September 1989. The third was the following year when he and George were accepted into the Gryffindor’s Quidditch team as beaters. The fourth time was on a winter's afternoon in 1993 when he had his first kiss. The fifth was when the dream of opening a joke shop with his twin had become even closer to reality after Harry gave them the Triwizard Tournament prize. The sixth was in a 1995 night when he lost his virginity. The seventh time was the day Weasley's Wizard Wheezes opened at Diagon Alley in 1996. The eighth was in May 1998 with the defeat of Lord Voldemort. The ninth was when he met you on a spring morning in 2001. The tenth time was when you agreed to go on a date with him a few days later. And since then, Fred Weasley had lost the count. 

But he remembered the most special days. 

The day you kissed. The first night you spent together. The lunch his mother prepared at the Burrow so that you could be introduced to the Weasley family. When you finally said "I love you" to each other. That afternoon you agreed to have a picnic, but you didn't check if it would rain and came home soaked. The next morning that Fred woke up sick and you made him some soup. The time you two couldn't sleep then you stayed up all night talking while drinking hot chocolate. When Fred asked you to marry him on the first day of a new year. That summer day in 2004 when you and Fred said "I do" and made a vow to love each other for all eternity. The dinner where you revealed that you were pregnant with your first child together. The day Maeve Weasley was born and your world had changed completely. And since then, Fred Weasley went to sleep every day thinking, "bloody hell, this must be the happiest day of my life." 

He was enchanted with every little moment. 

Fred was thrilled the moment he hold Maeve for the first time and nested her in his arms; he pressed a delicate kiss on her forehead, feeling that newborn baby smell and watching her sleep peacefully, finally realizing that she was his baby - his baby to care for, to protect, to love; his daughter. 

He remembered the first time Maeve opened a toothless smile, that she babbled something in the baby’s language, when she ate solid food when she was six-months-old and ended up with banana puree - made by mommy - all over her face, the way she clapped her hands when she heard Hermione singing muggle’s nursery rhymes, when she took her first steps two weeks after her one-year birthday. Fred was not ashamed to admit that he cried when Maeve first called him "Daddy", that he got emotional every time she lay on his chest and fell asleep there as if it was the most comfortable place in the world, of how he couldn't stop smiling silly while watching her dance "head, shoulders, knees and toes". Since Maeve was born, Fred Weasley thought he couldn't be happier. 

But you got pregnant again; and in 2008, Alexander Weasley was born - better known as "lil’ Alex". 

And Fred was, once again, in heaven. 

Just like happened with Maeve, he was enchanted by his son from the moment he heard that little weeping for the first time; he couldn't help but be amazed to see that the e/c color of your irises were reflected in Alex's eyes, that his nose was very similar to his father's and that he had much more hair than his sister when she was born - and once again, he had fallen in love with that newborn baby smell. 

Fred's heart melted completely when he saw the scene of you in bed holding Alex in your arms while Maeve was sitting next to you, her neck stretching so she could see her little brother more closely; he opened a broad smile with that vision, the vision of his family - his to care for, to protect, to love, his family.

That day, Fred sat next to you on the bed, taking Maeve on his lap and placing his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his body; he remembered the way you looked at him with a tender smile decorating your face and said: "you and I make beautiful babies," but before he could answer, Maeve exclaimed: "but Alex looks like smashed potato!”.  Fred used his free hand to tickle his daughter briefly, who let out an angelic laugh and squirmed in his arms, saying: "not the tickle monster, Daddy!", he laughed once again, kissing Maeve's fluffy cheek; his heart seemed to barely fit inside his chest of how much love he felt at that moment. Then, your head rested on his shoulder, Fred turned his head to give you a long kiss on the temple; you, in turn, lifted your face towards your husband, sealing your lips in a very short but passionate kiss - passion for the beautiful family you built together, for the life full of joys that awaited you and without forgetting, of course, the overwhelming passion you still felt for each other. 

It wasn't always easy. 

Despite the joys that fatherhood brought in your lives, conciliating raising your children with your jobs and the marital relationship was something that sometimes you failed at. Sometimes you fought for silly reasons, other times for more serious issues, but you never forgot that in the first place you loved each other. 

The worst fight you and Fred had was when the two of you were facing difficulties at work, and without even noticing it, you started to take your frustrations out on each other; you both spent a whole day not talking - just talking about your children - but in the late afternoon, when you and the redhead were distracted with work matters while Maeve and Alex were playing in the middle of the  living room, your daughter shouted cheerfully: "Mom, Dad, look! Alex likes when I dance!", the two of you immediately dropped the papers you were reading and watched the scene before your eyes: Maeve - with 3 years-old - was making extravagant ballet moves and Alex - who had just completed 8 months - was sitting on the fuzzy carpet, applauding his sister with a smile of few teeth decorating his face. At that moment, your eyes met with Fred's, and as if you were having a mental conversation, you two agreed: "No work in this world was more important than this: Maeve dancing ballet while Alex applauded". When the children slept, you had a long talk and made up in the best possible way: in bed. 

And you were fine. Better than just fine; you and Fred were happy with the life you built together. And even if some days weren't so good, the redhead would still sleep thinking that he had lived the happiest day of his life because it was one more day by your side while raising your children together, because it was one more day with his family. 

Today, Fred felt exhausted; he and George stayed until later at the shop because they needed to make an inventory of their products, and even though they had several employees so they didn't need to overload themselves with work, that task was something they didn't trust anyone else to do but each other. 

As soon as he arrived at his home through Floo Network, Fred was surprised that there was nobody in the living room and that no three-years-old girl jumped on his arms saying: "Daddy, Daddy, you're home!", but he heard laughter coming from the upper floor. He took off his shoes and socks, leaving them in the corner, and went upstairs; Fred followed that familiar sound and stopped in front of the bathroom suite you two shared, which was with the door ajar. 

For a moment, he allowed himself to watch the scene: inside of a huge white ceramic bathtub, were his wonderful children and sitting on a stool right next to it while holding Alex - who had already completed one year old - with both hands, you were wearing only a simple t-shirt and cotton shorts, your hair was in a tight bun on the top of your head; you were laughing while looking at Maeve, who was pretending to be a fish and imitating Dory's line in "Finding Nemo" when was speaking whale - you two really thanked Hermione for all the childish entertainment she introduced to you over the years -; the little girl was talking to Alex - who was supposed to be the whale.

"Ah, so you’re there" Fred said with a broad smile on his face; Maeve exclaimed an excited "daddy", splashing drops of water on all directions when she jumped. "I thought I was abandoned" he joked, walking towards the bathtub, and squatting close to where you were. "Hi, baby."

"Hi, love" you answered, smiling sweetly and leaning slightly towards your husband so you can greet him with a peck on the lips. 

Fred also greeted his children, saying tenderly: "Hi, little princess. Hi, little prince"; you two chatted distractedly while watching your children play in the bathtub - Maeve still pretended to be a fish and Alex played with a rubber duck. 

"How was your day?" he asked. 

"Normal" you shrugged. "Nothing new, which is a relief." 

"That's good. And how are our little angels?" 

"They've had dinner, played a lot and now they're taking a bath to go to bed. Did you have dinner?" 

"Yes, I ate something at the shop with George." Fred placed a hand on your knee, squeezing it gently. "I'm sorry for staying..."

"Don't apologize" you interrupted him. Your husband had never helped you to take care of the children; he had never helped you because that was his job too - he wasn’t “helping” you; he was taking care of his kids. Fred never expected compliments or medals for putting his children on bed, for giving them food, for waking up in the middle of the night when they were crying or for changing diapers; he knew that those were his responsibilities as much as they were yours. "I know" you sent him a reassuring smile. Days like this when you and Fred didn't do those things together were very rare - after all, you were partners for life. 

"Thank you" your husband smiled.

"And what about your day? Could you finish the inventory?" you asked. 

He let out a tired sigh, watching Alex chewing on the rubber duck. "Well... yes, but not everything. I still need..." 

"Daddy!" Maeve demanded his attention, interrupting him. "Look what I can do!" she said before immersing her head in the water for a short second before pulling it up again, her hair sticking to her cheeks as she wiped the water off her face. "See?" she opened her eyes and looked at her father, waiting for his answer. 

The redhead didn't take long to react, quickly applauding enthusiastically. "Wow, princess! You truly are a little fish! Did you see her, Mommy?" he looked at you. 

"I did, Daddy!" you smiled. "Our little Maeve already is a big girl!" 

Fred got rid of his jacket and tie, rolled up his sleeves to his elbow and sat on the bathroom floor, standing next to the bathtub as he listened intently to his daughter tell him about her fun day with Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur; Maeve said that Uncle Harry and Ginny showed up for a visit, so she played with her cousins all afternoon - she was asleep when you arrived at the Burrow right after work, but Alex was very agitated. 

You both took the opportunity that the little girl was very distracted and started to give your children a bath; you were soaping Alex's body while Fred washed Maeve's hair. He took the handheld shower and used it to rinse the shampoo, being careful to not let the foam fall in her eyes or ear. So, you two changed; now, you washed Maeve's body while Fred poured the baby shampoo on Alex's hair. Your husband stayed on his knees, leaning over the bathtub to hold his son firmly with one arm while using the other to give him a bath; the one-year-old was still very focused on chewing the rubber duck. 

Fred laughed. "You really like this toy, don't you, big boy?" he said to his son, who looked at his direction with his big e/c eyes. "This lil' duck is tasty, isn't it?" he said in a higher pitch and musical tone. Alex pushed the rubber toy away from his mouth just to laugh at his father, bouncing in his arms. "Yeah, you like it," the redhead smiled. "Maybe you can tell Grandpa Arthur what is the function of these rubber ducks, huh?"

You were washing Maeve's armpits when you heard the sound of your son laughing; you looked at that direction and a broad smile appeared on your face as you watched Fred talking to Alex about his toy. Then, your daughter also laughed. 

"Mommy!" she said between laughs. "You're tickling me!" 

"I'm sorry, honey," you said with a smile, pulling the little girl close so you could give her a kiss on the cheek. 

Minutes later, the children were properly dressed in their pajamas and Fred went to take a bath. And the scene he found when he returned to his room was even more adorable than the one in the bathroom: you were with your back against the headboard and, on each arm, you nested Maeve and Alex while singing them a lullaby as they were drinking hot milk from their bottle. 

His daughter was the one who saw him leaning against the door, she demanded that he come to bed with you, and as soon as Fred did, Maeve left her position to lay her head on her father's chest - now you and Fred were lying on the edge of the bed and your children in the middle of you two. 

"Daddy, can you tell us a story?" the little girl asked. 

"I don't know, honey," he said. "Mommy was singing."

"But the song's over, isn't it, Mommy?" your daughter looked at you. 

"Yes, dear" you nodded, opening a little smile. 

"Will you, Daddy? Please?" Maeve made a pout. "Alex also wants you to tell us a story," she looked at her little brother, who was almost asleep on his mother's arms. "Yes, Daddy, tell us a story," she said in a soft tone - as if it was the little boy talking - "see? He wants it too!" 

You both laughed at your daughter's little trick. "Well, Daddy, it seems they want you to tell us a story," you shrugged, still with a smile on your face. 

"How can I deny a request from the three loves of my life, huh?" Fred smiled, squeezing Maeve in his arms and giving her a kiss on the forehead. 

You listened carefully as your husband told the story of two fire-haired brothers who fought against a terrible one-eyed monster and managed to obtain a precious magical item: a map that led them to various adventures around the world. And when the two brothers discovered how to get to the Candy Land, you and Fred noticed that your children were already deeply asleep in your arms. 

You both shared a look and a smile. A passionate look at the love that existed in your family. A proud smile for the life you had together. 

"I love you" your husband whispered at you.

"I love you too" you whispered back. 

And before Fred fell asleep, he thought, "bloody hell, this must be the happiest day of my life."

taglist: @eunoia-kth

[helloalycia]

secret relationship // wanda maximoff

summary: you're the daughter of the famous Black Widow, which comes with its own set of hurdles such as revealing to her that you're dating the newest Avenger that she also happens to be mentoring – Wanda Maximoff. What could go wrong?

warning/s: minor (implied) violence and injury

author's note: okay so the request was the reader is Natasha's daughter and is struggling to tell Natasha that she's dating Wanda. All I know is I got excited (as usual) and this happened so yeah, enjoy! Also, Wanda’s age is always a mystery to me since it’s interpreted differently with everyone, so I tried my best to explain the age gap between you and natasha so things made sense.

masterlist | wattpad

"Did you know red onion and red cabbage is called 'red' instead of 'purple' because back in the old days, they didn't have enough words for colours so anything purple was defined as red?"

"The mission, Y/N," my mum, Natasha Romanoff, AKA Black Widow, scolded.

I sighed, my attention still focused on my surroundings and my gun directed ahead. "I know, I know. But did you know that the most common internet password is '123456'?"

"Y/N," Wanda, my girlfriend and teammate said with a laugh. "Stop it."

"Yeah, please, quit it," my mum added with an eye roll.

I smiled at Wanda, admiring how beautiful she looked when she hid her laugh. My mum wasn't aware we were dating, so I settled for sending her a playful wink before looking ahead.

I knew I had to focus on the mission – scouting out this abandoned HYDRA den – but it was boring. And it was obviously empty of any threats, so talking was my only pastime.

"Did you know the inventor of Pringles is buried in a Pringles can?" I said after a moment of silence, making my mum stop walking abruptly.

"Okay, you know what? New plan," she said, looking between Wanda and I. "Everyone split up. Take a look around. Stay alert. Keep in contact. Sound good?"

I quirked a brow. "You trying to get rid of me?"

She narrowed her eyes my way. "Yes."

I frowned, making Wanda crack a smile and nudge me in the shoulder.

"You need to learn to have an off button sometimes," she joked, her Sokovian accent shining through despite the voice lessons my mum was giving her. Honestly, I preferred her Sokovian accent to her American one.

"You love it," I teased, giving her a knowing smile, my mother completely unaware of the double meaning.

"Just do as I said," my mum said, already shooing me away. "Wanda, you know what to do. If you see or hear anything suspicious, use your comms."

"Yes, Miss Romanoff," Wanda said obediently, and I tried so hard to hold in laughter at her seriousness. I mean, it was great that she was respectful of my mother and her mentor, but God it was funny to witness.

"Once again, Wanda, you can just call me Nat," my mum said with a wince, trying to be polite. "Go on."

Wanda nodded and walked off, her gun raised as she'd practiced. I grinned at my mum, noticing the way she massaged her temple with mild agitation before her gaze fell to mine.

"Go. Now." She pointed behind me, and I stifled a laugh.

"Bet you love babysitting duty," I joked.

"It's not babysitting if I'm your mother," she pointed out. "Though sometimes, you make me regret not picking the baby instead of you."

"That baby would have been six years old now," I informed her. "If anything, I spared you the whole diaper thing and the outgrowing clothes thing and the– oh yeah! Not being able to speak thing!"

"At least they wouldn't be annoying me with stupid facts," she retorted, hand on her hip. "Now be a good agent and do your job."

I rolled my eyes playfully, knowing she was kidding. Whenever I annoyed her, she'd bring up the story of how it was between twelve year old me and a six-month old baby at the adoption centre. She was worried I'd view her as an older sister or something, hence her choice of adopting the baby instead. But I never did, as she was always way more mature than any twenty-seven year old I'd met or seen at the time. And maybe, I guess, I was really desperate to have a motherly figure, and she just happened to fit the bill.

"Aye, aye, Miss Romanoff," I saluted, making her raise an eyebrow threateningly. "Okay, geez, I'm going."

I wandered off, exploring the dishevelled HYDRA den with full focus. The brief clearly stated it was an abandoned site, but I stayed on alert anyway in case there were stragglers. As usual, I only got given half the facts because of my clearance level, so I knew we were looking for a hard drive, but I had no idea what was on it.

Being a seventeen year old working in S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't exactly how I saw my life going when I grew up in an orphanage. I honestly never thought I'd get adopted, as rumours spread quite quickly through the orphanage that once you hit double digits, nobody wanted you. So, when the beautiful, red-headed Natasha Romanoff came in, looking for an addition to her family, I felt like the luckiest kid in the world because she chose me of all the kids there.

I definitely didn't expect her to be the Black Widow, nor to teach me everything she knew about espionage, stealth, hand-to-hand combat and much more. She ensured I was multi-lingual like her, preparing me for the many S.H.I.E.L.D. missions I would have to go on. There were times when I absolutely despised her, particularly when she overtrained me or stopped me from seeing my friends. And there were times when I wished she'd never adopted me, hating that I couldn't have a normal teenage experience.

But when it came down to it, I knew I couldn't have asked for a more caring, considerate and compassionate mother. I learnt early on into our relationship that she was unable to have kids of her own, hence her interest in adoption. And honestly speaking? That was probably the worst thing in the world because if anybody deserved a child of their own, it was Natasha Romanoff. I guess, in that sense, I was lucky to have all of her love to myself.

Now that I was older, I came to appreciate how awesome she was, especially when we got to go on missions together and I saw her awesomeness upfront. The only thing was, she was extremely overprotective, so it was difficult to get sent on the dangerous missions. Though, I guess, whenever I did, she was always there to have my back and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Her overprotectiveness was also a reason why she didn't know about Wanda and I's relationship. Wanda had joined the Avengers a year ago after losing her brother in the battle against Ultron. She was a year older than me, so naturally we were drawn to each other, and before I knew it, our friendship became more. But of course, my mother could never know that. At least not yet.

"Empty here," I mumbled, rounding a corner into an empty room. As I looked through the rubbish on the desk, I continued, "Empty here... and here... and oh, look, here, too. What a surprise!"

"Y/N, I love you, but God help me I will kill you if you don't turn your damn mic off," my mother's voice came through my comms piece in my ear.

For once, I wasn't trying to piss her off, so I smiled sheepishly to myself and replied, "Sorry. Love you."

I could imagine the eye roll she was giving me in response, so continued to look around for the hard drive I saw on the brief. Still, there was nothing here.

My searching was interrupted when I heard a loud crash from a nearby room, like the sound of bricks tumbling against one another. I spun around, eyes widening with concern.

"Y/N? Wanda? What happened?" my mum's voice came through my ear, slightly reassuring me as it wasn't her who was caught up in anything. But then that meant–

"Wanda! What happened?" I replied worriedly, already rushing out of the room and to the source of the sound.

"I'm okay," Wanda's shaky voice came through my ear, which did nothing to ease my concern.

I found the room Wanda was in quite quickly, seeing her sat on the floor as if she'd been pushed. She had a deep cut on her forehead and looked visibly distressed. Running to her side, I kneeled down beside her and cupped her face, studying her head.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" The words tumbled from my mouth so quickly I wasn't sure if it was understandable.

She nodded slowly, accepting my hand and holding it for reassurance. I followed her gaze, seeing a hole in the wall ahead, bricks crumbling and dust beginning to settle. Laying on the floor through the hole and into the next room was a HYDRA soldier, clearly dead from the impact of hitting the bricks.

Wanda's power was magnificent, but hard to control. A year later and she was still learning its limits, but sometimes slip-ups like this happened. I was, admittedly, in awe of her actions.

"I'm sorry, I should have kept him alive like Miss Ro– Nat said," Wanda apologised suddenly, and I looked back at her to see her shaking her head. "He just– he startled me and I didn't know what I was doing until it happened. I thought–"

"Don't apologise," I cut her off, squeezing her hand gently, before looking back to the cut on her forehead. "I'm just glad you're okay. You did good."

Despite my words, I bit my lower lip to contain a frown, worried about her cut.

"Damn."

Wanda and I both turned to the doorway to see my mum, who stopped and took in the sight of the hole in the wall with partial surprise and partial amazement.

"Mum, we need to get her back to the quinjet," I said, pulling her attention away from the wall. She approached me as I said, "She needs medical assistance."

I didn't let go of Wanda's hand as I moved to the side for my mum to take a look. Gently guiding Wanda's chin to the side, she took a closer look at the gash on her forehead, expression showing nothing as usual.

"You'll be okay, honey," she reassured, letting go. Her eyes drifted to our connected hands briefly, but I figured she wouldn't piece anything together, so I didn't let go. She continued, "Let's get out of here. There's no hard drive anyway."

Wanda nodded and my mum and I helped her to stand up, me still not letting go of her hand.

"The hard drive is on him," Wanda spoke suddenly, nodding to the dead HYDRA agent. "I heard his thoughts before I– yeah."

My mum raised her brows with surprise. "Oh. Perfect. Y/N get the drive and let's go."

I pursed my lips, glancing at Wanda with concerned eyes. She gave me a small, reassuring smile, squeezing my hand subtly before letting go.

"Right, yeah," I said, swallowing hard.

I looked back to my mum, who seemed to be studying my expression, so I cleared my throat and left to get the drive. When I retrieved it, I jogged after Wanda and my mum, checking in on her with a small smile, before leading the way to the quinjet.

When we boarded the plane, I hung around Wanda and my mum as she helped the brunette to take a seat in the back. I noticed Wanda's momentary dizziness as she sat down and felt my chest tighten.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked, kneeling before her as my mum got the first aid kit.

Wanda gave me an endearing smile as I swiped at the blood dripping down her forehead.

"I'll be alright," she said, holding my gaze with comforting green eyes before they flickered to behind me.

"Okay, Y/N, stop hanging about and start the plane whilst I stitch Wanda up," my mum said, appearing from behind me and kneeling beside me.

I nodded, glancing between the needle, thread and disinfectant in her hands and Wanda's head. Reluctantly, I got up and left them both to it as I started up the plane and got us in the air. Once we were in the clear, I flicked on autopilot before heading back to Wanda and my mum to see how things were going.

"We'll have someone look at it properly when we get back to the tower," my mum was saying to Wanda, who was now stitched up and wearing a small bandage, "but it'll hold up for now." With a playful smile, she added, "You're not dying on me just yet."

Wanda cracked a smile and whilst I appreciated how lovely it was to see their closeness in a way I never usually saw, I was still troubled by her injury. Logically, I knew she'd be okay, but it never felt good to see her injured.

"Plane is on autopilot," I announced, making my presence known. My eyes never left Wanda's bandage as I asked, "Everything okay here?"

"You need to calm down," my mum joked, making me look her way. "It's not that serious. Just some stitches."

I smiled awkwardly, but I knew it was much more than that.

"Yeah, relax, it's not a big deal," Wanda added playfully.

Her eyes met mine and I knew she was communicating the same thing through her gaze, holding a seriousness that wasn't able to be shared verbally because of my mum's presence. I tilted my head, giving her a knowing look; she knew I was aware of how big a deal it was. All I wanted to do was give her a hug and kiss and not leave her side until she felt better. And she knew that.

"I'm gonna go fly the plane," my mum said suddenly, and I almost forgot she was standing there until she spoke up. "We'll get back to base quicker..."

I glanced at her, mildly confused at her sudden change of expression. She headed to the front of the quinjet, leaving Wanda and I alone.

"Seriously though, you should relax," Wanda said, sounding like she did when it was just her and I and nobody else. She had an amused smile on her lips as she watched me worry. "I'm fine. All stitched up."

I licked my lips, sulking, as I dragged myself over to the seat beside her. She laced our fingers together, pressing a kiss to the top of my hand before facing me with an easygoing smile.

"I'm fine," she repeated gently, lovingly, sweetly.

I offered her a small smile, before leaning forward to press a kiss to her bandage. "I know. Just don't worry me like that. Especially in front of my mum. I can't take it."

"It's cute," she noted, amusement returning. "It means a lot to know someone cares."

My shoulders relaxed. "I care too much. So, please don't test that."

She laughed and I felt my heart flutter in my chest, never getting used to the sound.

"I promise not to," she said, looking up at me through her lashes.

I leaned my head on her shoulder and kept ahold of her hand, staying with her until we arrived back at base. My mum flew us the whole way back, only coming to get us once we landed. I knew I should have left Wanda's side as to not raise suspicion with my mum, but I couldn't find it in myself to do so. I just hoped she would interpret it as two concerned friends rather than her daughter having a secret girlfriend.

"You should head to the medical wing to get checked out properly," my mum said once we were back at the tower, looking to Wanda.

"Yeah," I agreed a little too eagerly. "I'll go with you."

My mum gave me a curious look. "I mean, that's not necessary."

Wanda must have sensed my eagerness, as she said, "I'd appreciate the company, actually. I don't mind."

She shot me a subtle smile, eyes bright with reassurance.

"I'm happy to accompany you, Wanda," my mum offered, and I felt my mouth go dry.

"It's okay, mum," I said suddenly, making her look to me with pursed lips. "You can go debrief and I'll make sure Wanda is cool with everything."

Glancing between us, my mum finally nodded. "I see. I guess I'll see you both later then." She paused, looking between us once more, before adding, "You did good today. Both of you."

I looked down to my shoes as Wanda shot her a grateful smile. She walked away, leaving us be, and I immediately intertwined my fingers with Wanda's as the two of us headed to the medical wing.

"You may as well write desperate on your forehead," she teased with a beautiful smile.

"So funny," I said sarcastically, though a smile of my own was present. "Let's just get you checked out."

"If it means you'll stop pouting, then sure."

"Real jokester you are. Hilarious, honestly."

Her laughter surrounded me like a warm hug and I could have listened to it forever.

—

Since our mission together, I noticed the distance my mum was putting between her and I, and I had no idea why. I thought I was overthinking it and seeing things that weren't there, so I didn't follow up with it until one evening.

It was a rare occurrence for all of the Avengers to be at the tower at once, so when they were, we'd all have a 'family' dinner for some normalcy. Only, this time, I noticed how strange my mum was acting whenever I spoke to her. She'd either act super dismissive or give one word answers to my questions – once again, I wasn't sure if I was seeing things.

After dinner, everyone went their separate ways and Wanda and I stayed in the living-area to watch some TV. Though it was playing, the volume was lowered and neither of us were watching it. We were just talking about random stuff and enjoying each other's company.

"Okay, how about this one?" I said to Wanda, turning so I was facing her, a grin on my lips. "What did the clock do when it was hungry?"

As with all of my other attempts at making Wanda laugh, she stared at me with an amused smile and a quirked brow.

"Say it...," I encouraged, motioning for her to speak with my hand.

She sighed. "Okay, what did the clock do when it was hungry?" Mumbling, she added, "Even though clocks don't eat..."

I slapped her leg playfully. "Sshhh, you'll ruin the joke. And the answer is, they go back four seconds!"

Wanda didn't laugh, but she seemed entertained as she hid a smile. "Seriously?"

"Because of the number 'four' and the word 'for'," I explained. "C'mon, that's a good one!"

"D'you think you're funny?" she asked, eyeing me playfully. "Because you're not."

I shrugged, playing it off like I wasn't fussed. "I mean, I don't know about that... how about now?"

Before she could question me, I moved forward and began to tickle her sides, watching as she squirmed with laughter.

"Stop it!" she shouted, but her smile was as wide as ever as she was unable to stifle her laughter. "P-please! Y/N!"

"But you said I wasn't funny!" I retorted with a grin, practically straddling her as she attempted to push me off her. "I'm just checking if you still think that!"

Wanda was crying now, tears escaping the corners of her eyes as she continued to laugh. "I'm s-sorry! Y/N, stop!"

Before I could think how to respond, the doors to the living-area opened and in walked Steve Rogers AKA Captain America, a confused expression on his face as he saw me sat on Wanda.

"Hey, ladies," he greeted, raising an eyebrow. "You both good?"

I pulled my hands away from Wanda and breathed out, still smiling as I glanced down at her. She blew a strand of hair from her eyes and glared at me playfully.

"Yeah, just talking," I answered Steve, before being thrown off Wanda and to the floor with a thud.

"Just Y/N harassing me as usual," Wanda corrected, and I sat up to see her sitting up, too, fixing her hair.

Steve chuckled as he headed to the fridge in the connected kitchen. Wanda helped me back onto the couch, nudging me in the side as a response to the tickle fest, before leaning on me and stretching her legs across the couch.

"So, hey, what's up with you and your mum?" Steve asked as I continued to annoy Wanda by flicking her face.

"What do you mean?" I asked, not looking up as I grinned down at Wanda, watching as her eyes glowed red threateningly.

"Don't make me hurt you," she said teasingly, lifting a hand and summoning her powers, red wisps of energy becoming present.

I stopped flicking her and intertwined her hand in mine, watching as her eyes faded to its usual colour.

"She just seemed distant at dinner," Steve continued.

I looked up and saw he was leaning against the counter with a water bottle in his hand. Wanda continued to stretch, practically on top of me, probably to annoy me as I had been doing with her. I moved her hands out of my face as I nodded to Steve.

"So, you saw it too? She was being off, right?" I asked him, glad I wasn't just imagining things.

He nodded, gulping his water, before saying casually, "Definitely. What did you do? Finally tell her about you and Wanda?"

It took me a second to realise what he'd said, but when I did, my eyes widened and I spluttered out a terrible response. "What– what about Wanda and I?"

I glanced at Wanda as she began to sit up properly. She looked more confused than panicked.

"You know, that you're together," Steve said like it was obvious.

I cleared my throat. "What? Why would you think that?"

Steve smiled with confusion. "Wait, so you're not? But I thought–" He paused, pulling a face. "No, you are! Everybody thinks you are!"

I shrugged it off, though inside I was panicking. "I mean, even if that was the case, why do you think my mum knows?"

Steve nodded knowingly. "She's been off with you all night. And then I caught up with her after dinner and she wasn't in a very talkative mood. Just mumbled something like 'new girl, her age, pretty, nice, should have seen it coming'. I assumed she was talking about Wanda."

Heat crept up my neck with embarrassment and when I looked to Wanda, I saw her cheeks dusting a red colour, similar to the energy she could summon. She looked as flustered as I felt.

"Has your mum been okay with you before today?" Steve asked, trying to be helpful.

I chewed on my lower lip and shook my head. "Not since we got back from our last mission..."

Steve scrunched his face with sympathy. "Oof. You should probably talk to her then. You know how much she hates secrets."

I groaned internally. "Thanks for the reminder."

He saluted playfully, his stupid smile on his stupid face, before leaving Wanda and I alone again.

"Well, looks like she knows," I said to Wanda, sinking into the couch with hopes it would swallow me forever.

"She might not," Wanda tried to make me feel better, resting a hand on my leg. "It could be something else."

I gave her a knowing look. "She has to know. It's the only thing that makes sense. You heard Steve."

Wanda sighed, sinking into the couch beside me. "Yeah..." She glanced at me and I looked at her as she said, "I did tell you to tell her."

I forced a smile. "Gee, Wanda, that was helpful. Thanks."

Wanda rolled her eyes before leaning her head on my shoulder. "Sorry..."

I rested my hand on hers. "It's okay, sorry. I just– she's gonna be really mad that I kept this from her."

"Yeah, why did you do that again?" Wanda asked questioningly.

I massaged the tension between my eyebrows. "Because she's too overprotective. It gets too much to handle sometimes... Take my last boyfriend for example. He was some tool that cheated on me and, oh boy, my mum wanted to kill him. I had to physically restrain her from doing so."

"I don't blame her," Wanda quipped, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

I smiled a little, squeezing her hand. "I know... she ended up slashing his tyres and egging his car without telling me. But instead of egging the outside, she broke into it and egged the inside. A thoughtful take on a classic, I must admit."

Wanda laughed, her whole body shaking with pure amusement as she listened to the story. I couldn't help but smile myself, remembering it like it was yesterday. Definitely a fun time.

"I appreciated it, don't get me wrong," I added, smile fading. "I just didn't want that to happen again. I wanted to enjoy our relationship without anyone spying on us, y'know? But now she's gonna be super angry."

Wanda let go of my hand and rolled on top of me, leaning down on my chest so she could look me in the eyes. I wrapped my arms loosely around her to keep her steady.

"She only wants the best for you," Wanda told me gently. "You have to tell her you're sorry. Explain why you did what you did, but hear her out, too. She's your mum. Caring too much isn't a bad thing."

I groaned, knowing she was right. She smiled reassuringly, patting my chest.

"You get the caring too much thing from her by the way," she added, before leaning forward and pressing a haste kiss to my lips. "It's okay though because I love it."

I smiled, never really seeing it like that. Raising my hand, I brushed my thumb over the small bandage on her head; her injury was still healing, but she didn't let it bother her. Very Wanda-like.

"Thanks," I mumbled, meeting her gaze. "You always say the right thing."

"Which is why I'm going to tell you to get up and go to your mum," she ordered playfully, pushing herself off me and holding out her hand.

I let her pull me up before straightening up and taking a deep breath. Wanda was right. I just needed to be open and explain my piece. It would be fine.

—

So, it wasn't fine.

When I entered my mum's living quarters, she wasn't the happiest to see me. In fact, she actively turned her body to face her TV when I came through the door.

"Hey," I started with a small smile, fighting the nerves in my stomach. "Can we, er, can we talk?"

She grabbed the cushion on the couch next to her, hugging it to her chest. Her eyes didn't leave the TV, but the space next to her was free, so I took that as an opportunity to close the door and sit beside her.

The news was playing on the TV – headlines, I think – and they were talking about a new elected congressman in New York.

"Seriously? The news? Even in your free time?" I asked playfully, hoping it would lighten the mood.

She didn't even glance my way as she muttered, "I like to know what's happening in the world."

Losing my smile, I straightened up and cleared my throat. "Right, right..."

It went quiet as the TV played in the background and my mum said absolutely nothing. I grabbed the other cushion on the couch and hugged it to my chest, similar to her. It was a nervous habit that I picked up from, well, from her.

"You said you wanted to talk?" she reminded me. "So, talk."

Having the Black Widow as your mother wasn't something anyone could get used to. She could be the most caring, loving, protective person in the world, but she could also appear quiet, intimidating and ruthless like the trained assassin she was. Not the greatest combination when trying to open up to her.

"I think I know what you're thinking," I started, pinching my hand to distract from my growing anxiety.

Without hesitation, she bent forward to grab the TV remote and turned it off before turning to me with sad eyes.

"That's where you're wrong," she said calmly, and it was way worse than her yelling. I would have preferred her yelling to be honest. The disappointment in her voice was much worse. "You always assume you know what I'm thinking. What I'm going to say or do."

I avoided her eyes guiltily. "Mum, look, I know that I should have told you the truth. And I know how angry you are, but–"

"I'm not angry, Y/N!" she shouted, finally, standing up off the couch and creating space between us.

I winced. "You sound angry."

She put her hands on her hips, looking down to her feet and taking a breath. Her voice at normal volume, she said, "I'm upset. You– you didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth. Instead, I had to put it together when you acted how you did with Wanda after that mission and..." She paused, sighing. "Forget it."

"No, keep going," I pleaded, the guilt piercing through me sharply. "You're right."

She swallowed hard, glancing at me with glassy eyes. "I wouldn't have done anything. I know I have in the past, but this is Wanda we're talking about. I've been her mentor for a year. I care about her and– and– she's good. And she's good for you."

Okay, I definitely misread this whole thing because now my mum was upset, on the verge of tears, and I was the arsehole responsible for it.

"I'm so sorry," I said, standing up and moving forward to hold her arms. "I should have trusted you. I mean, it wasn't even about trust. I was just scared you'd react badly. But it wrong of me to assume that."

She frowned, looking down to her shoes. "I know I can be tough sometimes, but it's only because I care."

I thought back to Wanda's words and gave her a small smile. "I know. I get it from you."

"I am happy for you, you know," she said, glancing at me petulantly.

My expression softened. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."

Without another word, she pulled me in for a motherly hug, making me close my eyes and relax in her arms. I still felt horrible for making her feel like I couldn't trust her when it was anything but that.

"I'm sorry," I repeated quietly into her shoulder.

"I forgive you," she said, before pulling away and giving me a small smile. "Now tell me. You're happy?"

The thought of being with Wanda gave me butterflies and I couldn't help but smile in response. With a nod, I said, "I am."

She nodded, squeezing my shoulders gently before fully letting go. "Good. I'm glad you've got her... I know you can take care of yourself, but she's strong, too. She can look out for you when I'm not around anymore."

I shoved her in the shoulder. "Don't joke about that. She isn't replacing you and you're not going anywhere, you hear me?"

She laughed, nodding. "Not yet anyway. But sure, okay."

I relaxed and gave her a nervous smile. "So, you wanna meet Wanda? Like, as my girlfriend and not your student?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "If I must."

I smiled widely, grabbing her hand and leading her to the door. "She loves you a lot, y'know. She wanted me to tell you about us as soon as we got together. She hated lying to you."

"Yeah because she knows that lying is wrong," she teased me, making me groan loudly. With a chuckle, she added, "I love her, too. She's definitely something."

"Hell yeah she is," I said in agreement, grinning to my mum as I dragged her to the living-area where I last left Wanda.

On the way, we passed Steve in the hall, who took notice of the smiles on our faces and nodded knowingly.

"Glad to see you worked it out," he said supportively.

"Thanks for the heads up," I told him gratefully as we passed him.

When we reached the living-area, I saw Wanda sat on the couch watching TV. When she saw who entered, she straightened up instantly, moving to stand and unsure what else to say or do. It was cute, the respect she had for my mum.

"Did you– I– She told you?" she stumbled over her words, starting to speak to me but eventually looking to my mum.

My mum glanced at me before meeting Wanda's nervous eyes. "She did."

Wanda licked her lips anxiously. "And you're okay with it...? Angry...? Wanna kill me...?"

I watched my mum, nodding encouragingly to her. She sighed before giving Wanda a small smile.

"No killing will be necessary," she reassured my girlfriend. "Unless, of course, you break my daughter's heart. Then in which case, I may have to find you when you're sleeping."

"Mum!" I complained, face falling into my hands with embarrassment.

"I'm just being truthful," my mum said with seriousness, before looking to Wanda expectantly.

Wanda surprisingly took it well, probably used to my mum's personality after training with her for a year. "I understand completely, Nat and I'll hold you to that. I have no intention of breaking Y/N's heart."

A rare, genuine smile appeared on my mother's lips. "I know you don't. Just–" She paused, glancing at me. "Keep her safe, yeah? She's a bit stupid sometimes."

Wanda laughed as my mum smiled with amusement, like it was an inside joke.

"Right here, you know," I reminded them with a wave of my hand.

They only rolled their eyes.

"I will," Wanda promised my mum. "Thank you for being okay with this."

My mum nodded, giving us both a final smile and once over, before saying, "I'll leave you to it. Goodnight."

Wanda and I bid our goodnights, watching her leave before a giant sigh of relief escaped our lips.

"You feel better?" Wanda asked me, grabbing my hand and tugging me to the couch.

She let me fall on her chest easily, snuggling up to her as she wrapped an arm around me and held me close. I inhaled her perfume, a familiar and comforting scent, as my head rested in the crook of her neck.

"I feel better," I answered, closing my eyes and letting her intertwine our fingers.

"I believe this is the part where you say I was right," she prompted, a hint of amusement in her words.

"Don't make me hurt you," I mumbled, making her laugh quietly beneath me.

"You're lucky I love you," she said, kissing the top of my head. "I guess opposites do attract. You're the stupid one and I'm the clever one."

"Wanda?"

"Yeah?"

"Fuck off."

She laughed again, and even though it was at me, I couldn't help the content smile from spreading on my lips.

[favoniuscodex]

ataraxia. - ch. 5 [ diluc x reader ]

ch. 5 - regularity's dawn pairing: diluc x gn!reader warnings: mention of prior-obtained injuries. diluc is rich. uh,,, typical warnings for this series. words: ~1.9k words fic masterlist [ prev ] - [ next ] chapter summary: just you (a farmer), diluc (an unknown variable), and a dog (of the canine variety) existing in your house. you, of course, wish there were only two of you there... you think. well, no matter what, the dog is staying. a/n: mmm domesticity except the reader can't handle domesticity. but hold on guys,,, hold on,,, its happening,,, slowly !!! :D sorry it's been 28 years for this update lol

"y'know," you set the bags of groceries down onto the kitchen counter as diluc hobbles into the room after you. "fatui presence in the city is increasing."

today is the twenty-first day since diluc has arrived at your doorstep. things have changed in your home and in the world outside. for starters, you've begrudgingly acclimated to the presence of another within your household. diluc is rather polite, much to your behest. he doesn't pry into your past, he doesn't rifle through your things, and, from what you can tell, he hasn't gone into your bedroom without permission.

diluc respects the boundaries between the two of you and it pisses you off. for a man who showed up half-alive to your place of residence, diluc keeps himself together in a frustratingly fascinating manner. he's gotten accustomed to crutches. he washes dishes for you, despite the cast on his wrist and insistence that you can do it yourself. hell, with his pyro vision, you don't even need to worry about firewood nor kindle for the kitchen stove. diluc is oddly self-sufficient for a man as injured as he is.

however, it's not like you're not looking to take care of him. it's just irritating to see this man being able to pick himself right back up and act like everything is okay, even if crutches are tucked into his armpits and supporting his weight. you're no fool, though. you know things aren't perfect for the redhead. you can see it in the wistful glimmer of his eyes when it rains and you can see it in the way that it looks like he wants to speak but doesn't know how.

diluc picks himself back up from his injuries, sure, but you can tell it's a hollow husk of the person he used to be. besides, you're wise enough to know that a broken wrist doesn't cause the solemnness you see in his expression. the source of that pain likely occurred long before you met him.

"the fatui?" diluc asks and you immediately regret having internally praised him for recovering so well from his injuries. maybe if he hadn't, you wouldn't have been asked such a dumb question.

"yes, the fatui. that's what i just said," you snap in response and, much to your surprise, diluc lets out a laugh. it's short-lived and it's more of a bark of a laugh rather than a wholehearted chortle, but it causes you to glance over at him, shooting him a glare as you angrily unpack the grocery bags.

"you do not talk to many other people, do you?" diluc asks, causing you to tilt your head in confusion. his eyes gleam with a mirth you've never seen before in them and it serves to do nothing but baffle you.

"neither do you?" you respond and your words come out questioning, rather than the harsh retort you originally hoped for. diluc pointedly looks down at his broken appendages and shrugs his shoulders to move his crutches. you stare at him blankly, unamused by his nonverbal sass.

"fatui presence," diluc quickly redirects the conversation before it can fall in to an awkward silence. "are there any recent events that would lead them to increase their numbers in the city?"

you furrow your brow in thought. "i... i'm not sure. i'm not exactly the best informant. outside of what i see at the newspaper stands, there's not much i can go by."

diluc falls silent, expression mimicking yours. "each time you go into the market, could you purchase a newspaper?"

you stare at him, baffled by his question.

"diluc," you begin slowly, as if he doesn't understand. "those are expensive." printing is not yet widespread to teyvat, with most effort going into the publication of books and kamera photography. spending several hundred mora on the weekly copy of the teyvat times is a luxury that someone like you can't afford. most other farmers you had the (unfortunate) pleasure of knowing are in the same boat, with just enough money to live, yet not enough to indulge in disposable newspaper. however, diluc seems to care little about such things.

"i'll pay for it," he says and you narrow your eyes at him. you don't dare challenge him.

of course this random enemy of the fatui has enough money to pay for newspapers. of course! its only convenient that he can just afford whatever he wants. its infuriating. of course he can pay. he always does. he pays for his dumb expensive grape juice, he always offers to pay the bills, he indulges in everything that you have to work so, so hard for while giving absolutely no indicator as to who exactly diluc is.

hell, you don't even know his last name, but you're sure as hell not about to ask. to ask would show an indicator of wanting to get close and you've already overshared with the redhead enough. you bite back a sigh of frustration as he balances on one leg, setting his crutches to the side and begins to help you unpack the groceries.

diluc is only trying to help, you remind yourself. he wants to make life easier for you because you're helping him. yet, you want to scream and cry at him for it. diluc shouldn't be so diligent and determined all of the time. he should be weak, he should be human, but he's not. he's not human to you, not even close.

he's just this stranger who you help to avoid a guilty conscience. it irks you that he's helping you because you're not helping him out of goodwill. you're only helping him so you don't hate yourself later.

you let out a nearly silent sigh, before resting the palms of your hands on the kitchen counter, splaying your fingers out.

"diluc, go sit down," you state exasperatedly.

you need to rest, you want to say, but your concerns remain unspoken. you're not concerned over him, you tell yourself.

"no," diluc states. you press your lips into a tight line as he turns to put a bag of flour in the pantry. yet, even you are smart enough to know this is a fight you cannot win.

you let him stay, you let him pay, you let him win. it eats away at your autonomy and, even though your brain screams at you to hate him for it, a small part of you is thankful for his assistance and company. you feel the familiar rush of angry tears beginning to well up behind your eyes, yet you swallow the lump in your throat.

you realize now why diluc bothers you so much. you realize why you completely and utterly loathe him. you realize why he's nothing but trouble and how you can't wait for him to finally, finally leave.

you hate diluc because he reminds you of what you truly are: vulnerable.

---

you check the kitchen. nothing. you check the bathroom. nothing. you check the living room. nothing. you check your bedroom. nothing. you check the supply closet. nothing.

which leaves one place left unchecked: diluc's room.

in typical "i'm the owner of this house" fashion, you knock lightly on his ajar door and, without waiting for a response, swing open the door. at this point, diluc is unsurprised and you can see his brow furrow slightly in annoyance as he looks up from his book.

good, you think to yourself, satisfied with his reaction.

"where is eos?" you ask, eyes scanning around the room. you crouch down to glance underneath the bed diluc is resting in.

"what?" diluc asks, confused. "what is eos?"

you stand up straight, staring at diluc with a nearly aghast expression. you take it back. the dumb, well-read redhead isn't smart.

"the dog," you say, as if the information is obvious (and it is!).

"oh," diluc says. "i was unaware it had a name."

"he has a name. it's eos. it's written on his collar and everything," you state, voice growing distant as you look over the room. determining that he very clearly isn't here (thank archons. you don't know what you would've done if your own dog picked diluc over you.), you narrow your eyes at diluc, staring daggers at him.

"do you know where he is or not?" you ask.

"he," diluc begins pointedly, as if trying to rectify for his earlier mistake. "appeared to need to... relieve himself outside, so i let him out when i was up earlier."

you bite back a groan. the weather today was great, which meant your dog surely wasn't coming back any time soon.

"you can't just let him out," you begin exasperatedly, rubbing a hand down the side of your face. "he likes to bother the chicken coop."

"he had to use the bathroom. in case it is not obvious, i am not quite in a condition to walk him out there," diluc states. you flutter your eyes closed in frustration, exhaling deeply.

don't bicker with him, you tell yourself. it's not worth it. you'll just sound like an old married couple.

wait, what? your eyes shoot open at your thoughts and diluc looks taken aback at your sudden wide eyes and startled expression. old married couple? you ask yourself, wondering what the hell your brain was thinking to make that thought pop into your head.

"whatever," you huff, shaking your head slightly to clear the weird thoughts out of your head. "sorry for bothering you. don't let the dog out again. i'm going to go get him."

you turn to leave, but the clearing of diluc's throat has you stopping in your tracks. you turn to look at him, tilting your head questioningly.

"'the dog'?" diluc quotes your words. the corners of his lips twitch up in amusement. "he has a name. it's eos."

diluc laughs at his own joke. it's soft and reserved and beautif-

"yup," you say, unamused, ignoring the way your heart clenches at the way his smile leaves his face. without leaving room for any more conversation, you walk out the room and close the door softly behind you.

idiot, you think to yourself, yet for once, the thought isn't directed at diluc. whatever. no time to dwell. you had a dog to go fish out of the chicken coop before he started barking angrily at the chicken eggs. last time eos had gotten loose in the chicken coop, the chickens were uninjured, but eos' ego was not. they had gifted him with a scratch of their claws, unamused by his barking antics.

you have your dog. you have your farm. you don't need diluc and you certainly don't need the way he nearly giggles at his own little jokes. yet, for some reason, it's all you can think of as you walk to the chicken coop.

"idiot," you mutter to yourself. "should've left him out in the rain."

after all, if you had left him out in the rain twenty-one days ago, you wouldn't be trying to furiously scrub the gentle upward curve of his lips out of your head, nor wishing he reserved such smiles only for you. archons, you are hopeless.

taglist: (please send in an ask to be added or removed to/from the taglist! name in italics means i am unable to tag you!)

@quixoticmirror @fishyfish-y @just-some-stars @karlitaburrito @lotsoffandomstoimagine @zhowongli @yakus-yakult @beanst0ck @nonniechan @justyoureverydayqueer @spice365 @lanicoco-12 @seokflwr @yamssoggyfries @callums-keith @gladly-olus @ferzia @just-some-stars

[nashibirne]

London Calling - 1

Yes, I'm still in my August phase and I'm not even sorry...I just can't stop thinking about the sexy mf and so this idea crossed my mind and turned into a storyline. I have to admit I'm even more nervous about posting this than usual because it's a little different from what I've written before and I really hope it's not going to bore the shit out of you. If you like this although the tension between August and my ofc builds slowly, please let me know. I appreciate every single comment, reblog and/or like! Thanks 💜

Pairing: Augut Walker x OFC (Lu Johnson)

Words: ~3.0 k

Summary and A/N: This story plays with the thought of "what if…" What if August Walker had taken another road? What if he had turned into John Lark for completely different reasons? What if he had found love before becoming a bitter, disillusioned man?So the events of "London Calling" take place about ten years prior to MI:Fallout and August Walker hasn't joined the CIA yet, he's an FBI Agent and his new mission in London that lies ahead of him is going to be a challenging one. Maybe it's even going to change his life.

Warnings: 18+! This story deals with the topic of a toxic/abusive relationship, gaslighting and problematic behavior of one of the protagonists in general. Please don't read if these topics trigger you or make you feel uncomfortable. Luckily I've never been in any kind of toxic or abusive relationship, so I lack personal experience but I hope still do this sensitive topic justice.

English is not my mother tongue but the lovely @sillyrabbit81 was so kind to be my very helpful and patient Beta! Thank you so, so much, bunny 🐇💜 You have no idea how much I appreciate your support, your encouragement, your help and the fact that you took the time to proofread this. (Edited by me, so there might still be mistakes and they're all mine)

📖 You can find my other fics on my Masterlist 📖

Credits: I don't own August Walker or anything related to MI:Fallout. Pics for the moodboard from pinterest, face claims: Lu - Hannah van der Westhuysen, Adam - Freddie Thorpe. FaceApp helped me with making August look a little younger

Taglist

@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @artandotherdelights @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @liliumdream @enchantedbytomandhenry @greensleeves888 @witcherfanfics101 @margauxmargaux07 @radaofrivia @m07belzen @a-little-counter-esperanto @starstruckkittyangel @mary-ann84 @sillyrabbit81 @emelinelovesjc @wheretheriversrunintothesea @lam0ureuxq @kingliam2019 @pandaxnienke

So...now...off we go...story under the cut!

1

"London? Are you kidding me, Kyle?"

August Walker stopped pacing the room with an incredulous frown. He raised his eyebrows, his blue eyes fixed on the other man's face.

"Absolutely not," his superior and close friend of many years said slowly, drawling both words more than necessary to stress that he wasn't joking. "They want you in London."

"What about my promotion? You gave me your word. You wanted me to finish Operation Old Bridge and that's what I did. You wanted Tony Salerno's head on a silver platter, that's what you got."

August's voice was surprisingly calm, his expression blank but his gaze was blazing with anger and frustration. His hands were balled into fists and he only opened them to lean on Kyle's wooden desk, which was very tidy, except for the piles of case files that slowly grew larger than him.

"Damn, Kyle, I risked my life when I went undercover and joined this Mafia mob."

"I know, August, but unfortunately my hands are tied. Interpol wants our best undercover Agent and that's you. Just this last job and afterwards you can happily join the CIA." SSA Kyle Langdon leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his neck with a sigh and an apologetic shrug.

"That's exactly what you said last time. Do you expect me to believe you?"

"As I said, it's not my doing. Manchester contacted Bill because the NCB needs help, blue notice, August. You know that we cannot say no and that means...London calling, man," Kyle pointed out with a smile. "You should be grateful, it's a great opportunity. So just do your job there, return and get your promotion."

"Why don't you just send someone else and I get my promotion right now? We have many great undercover agents. Craig for example. He's crazy about British pussies. He'll love London." August straightened his tall body before crossing his arms in front of his broad chest that was forced into a white button down shirt and a black suit jacket.

"No, Craig cannot go because they want you in this operation. They asked explicitly for Agent August Walker. That's a huge appreciation of your work and a big compliment. You're only 27, August, not many FBI agents are this well known and respected at such a young age." Kyle sat up straight, mirroring August's body language.

"I don't give a shit about their respect and appreciation. I know my worth and I know I'm your best agent. I've worked very hard to get where I stand now... just one step away from becoming a CIA agent," August said angrily, his brows furrowed, his eyes dark. "Fuck, Kyle...why use an American agent in a purely British matter in the first place? They could easily…"

"Listen, August," Kyle cut in and he got up and walked around his desk to face his friend, "the thing is, I am not asking you to do this, okay? It's not a request, it's an order. There's no room to negotiate."

He gave him a friendly smile to temper his words before placing a hand on August's shoulder. "No hard feelings. It's…"

"It's the job. Yeah. I know." August took a step back and nodded his head slowly, curling his lip. He had heard his boss say these words so many times and he hated that line although he was perfectly aware that it was the truth. That was the way it worked. They got orders, they did the job, no matter what. He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling a bad headache brewing behind his forehead.

"I have already talked to Sloane about this. Erica seconds the motion by Interpol because she wants you to prove yourself in another operation abroad. If you are successful you will be part of her team. It's simple, Walker. Just don't fuck this up."

"I've never fucked anything up,” August snarled, clenching his teeth, his jaw grinding.

"See, that's exactly why they want you,” Kyle answered with a triumphant smile.

****

"Lu!" Adam Mayfield knocked impatiently on the bathroom door. "Get ready. We're going to be late." He glanced at his Rolex with an annoyed sigh before he straightened his tuxedo jacket and adjusted his bow tie for the umpteenth time. "God damn, this meeting is important." He banged his fist against the door again and rolled his eyes when he heard her muffled voice behind the bathroom walls. "Just a minute, Adam."

Although he was really a little angry that it took her so long to get ready, they weren't actually late, in fact there was more than enough time to meet up with his clients at The London Opera. He had just said that to make her hurry up. Lu had the tendency to dawdle around, she got easily distracted and it was his responsibility to help her with that bad habit and usually it worked well.

Compared to the woman she was when they had met at a party more than five years ago, she had improved her behavior a lot, thanks to his efforts and his strict education. She had been common as muck when they started dating, an ordinary working class girl, smart but not a bit sophisticated, pretty but with no sense of fashion or taste, ambitious but without any connections. He had changed that, he had moulded her into the beautiful, stylish, refined and cultured woman she was now. She was his work, his success, his pride...she was his.

When the door of the bathroom that was adjacent to the master bedroom finally swung open, the welcoming sight of his fiancee interrupted his thoughts and picked up his spirits immediately.

"Wow, this was worth the wait." He eyed her up and down with a smirk and leaned in for a kiss but she stopped him with her hands pressed against his narrow chest.

"No, you're gonna ruin my make-up, darling." Lu smiled at him and spinned around to present him her dress. The black, belted Burberry gown was elegant and classy. High-necked on the front but with a low back that showed off lots of her perfect, lightly tanned skin. Chaste and sexy at the same time, just the way Adam liked it.

"That dress is stunning, baby. You look wonderful." He grabbed her by her waist and pulled her close to leave a sensual kiss on her slim neck while his hands wandered to her ass where they rested for a moment before they squeezed her firm cheeks. "I really hope you're not wearing any panties."

Lu freed herself from his embrace with a frown and stepped in front of the large wall mirror opposite of their king-size bed to check her reflection one last time, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Of course I'm wearing panties. We're going to the opera with your VIP clients." She walked to her dressing table and took the diamond-encrusted, leaf-shaped brooch Adam had given her for their five years anniversary on New Year's Eve. "Would you help me with this?"

Adam took the piece of jewelry from her slim hand and pinned it carefully on her dress, right above her heart. He kissed her tenderly but his expression was stern when he spoke. "Strip it off."

Lu's eyes grew wide. "What?"

"You heard me. Get rid of your thong. I know you're wearing one of these slutty, tiny g-strings to make sure your look is flawless and your underwear doesn't show under your dress." His face hardened slightly, yet his voice remained soft and smooth.

"But…"

"Don't test me, Lu,” he said slowly, still smiling but screwing up his beautiful grey eyes. "I want you naked underneath that dress in case I want to have a little fun with you tonight. I mean, we both know Rigoletto is gonna be boring as fuck, we may need a little distraction." He gave her a lewd smirk and with a tiny frown and a raise of his brows he motioned her to be obedient. "You don't want anything to get in my way, do you? Not even a little piece of lace, right?"

"Of course not, Adam," she answered softly with a smile she had to force onto her lips. Lu reached under her dress with shaking hands and pulled down her panties till they hit the floor so she could step out of them carefully, making sure they wouldn't get tangled up in her stiletto heels.

"Good girl," Adam said with a wolfish grin and with a sly smile he added, "you know what, baby? I think I'm going to have a little fun with you just now. My clients can wait."

Lu didn't even try to argue with him, knowing exactly that she was in a no-win situation. She closed her eyes and turned around, lifting up her dress, when she heard him unzip his fly.

****

While Adam Mayfield was fucking his fiancee in front of a mirror in one of the most exclusive penthouses in London, August Walker was having a bad coffee, sitting at a table in the plain and pretty ugly meeting room of their FBI department at the J. Edgar Hoover Building in Washington DC, listening to the explanations of Kyle and the lead of 'Operation Brutus', Christine Carpenter. He didn't like her much but he respected her competence and her leadership qualities and most of all he trusted her with giving him the perfect fake identity for the job in London.

"So, what do you have for me, Chris?" August looked at her with a smile, but his eyes gave away that he'd rather be somewhere else.

"Well, let me just explain the background first, okay?"

She pressed a button on her laptop and the handsome face of a young man appeared on the screen behind her.

"This", she nodded at the picture, "is Adam Arthur Clive Mayfield, 27 years old, only son of Alfred Mayfair and his late wife Erica, heir of the immense family fortune and the private bank Mayfield & Holmes, that was established by his ancestors more than 200 years ago. He is one of the most eligible bachelors in the United Kingdom, and one of the richest, too. His father officially still runs the family business but he isn't in the best state of health, so in fact Mayfield junior is the one who's at the helm. Unlike his father he's not a man of integrity, he's been on the radar of the British authorities for years. From dealing drugs and other minor crimes in his college years to insider trading, investor fraud, misappropriation and money laundering nowadays. He is a big fish, has connections all over the world, drug rings, gun runners, human traffickers, you name it."

"And the Brits are not able to catch him without my help?" August couldn't help but smirk cockily.

"Don't be so full of yourself, Walker. The problem is, he is a damn genius. IQ score beyond 150, very clever, very cautious, a strategic mastermind, always ahead of the authorities. They tried to infiltrate his business a few times but they failed miserably, so now they want to concentrate on his private life."

"And this is gonna be my part?"

"Exactly," Kyle said, getting up to join Christine in front of the screen. "He has a few bodyguards he always hires from an American agency. They are known for their discretion and loyalty and the bodyguards they place with their clients are the best of the best. Unfortunately one of his bodyguards died in an accident a week ago and now he needs a new one. Luckily, we have the owner of the agency by the balls for several major crimes. He cooperates or he will end up behind bars for the rest of his life."

"To cut a long story short, he will place you with Mayfield and you can become part of his daily life. Your job consists of monitoring and collecting information and data. I will give you an exact briefing later," Christine finished Kyle's explanations.

"So I will just be his lapdog?"

"Not his," Kyle grinned, "hers."

The picture on the screen changed, now showing a young, blonde woman. The second he saw her, he judged her.

He could tell what she was like, just by her looks, by the way she jutted her chin in the picture, by her perfectly manicured fingers, by her flawless make up and the expensive clothes. He knew women like her, a walking stereotype, the blond, beautiful Trophy Wife Barbie that's always by Millionaire Ken's side. Pretty on the outside, boring on the inside. Lame bimbos that only lived for showing off their designer clothes and it-bags, tripping around in high heels that cost more than he earned in a month, finding self-fulfilment in stupid things like designing overpriced furniture, running a yoga studio or doing charity stuff. Useless, needless but still blueprints for millions of girls who would literally give the shirt off their backs to catch themselves a rockstar, a famous actor, a hyped football player or just a rich heir.

"This is Mayfield's fiancee," Kyle said, pointing at the photo, "you're gonna be her personal bodyguard."

"How am I supposed to monitor him, when I have to be on her heels all the time?"

"You're gonna live with them, there will be lots of opportunities. Just make her trust you, we need her to open up, get her to talk. They've been together for years, she should know what he's involved in," Chris explained and she made it sound easy when in fact it wasn't only hard to gain a stranger's trust, in this case it was even dangerous.

"Alright. Tell me about her."

"Her name is Lucretia Johnson, 24 years old," Kyle started reading the memo.

"Lucretia?" August let out an amused snort.

"Yeah," Kyle grinned, "her mother seems to have a preference for strange names, her younger sister's called Petronilla."

"What the fuck?" August laughed out loud. "Is she some kind of Latin professor or something?"

"Well, first of all she's dead," Christine took over with a serious look on her face, she was notorious for her lack of humour, "and secondly, no, she was not a professor. She was an alcoholic and a complete mess. An irresponsible, uncaring mother who spent too much time fucking around and too little time taking care of her daughters. Petronilla was taken away from her when she was 15 and was handed over to youth welfare. Lucretia was 18 at the time and lived on the campus of the Chelsea College of Art and Design."

"So she's an artist, huh?" August knew the ridicule in his voice wasn't very professional but he just couldn't help it.

"Maybe, at least she has a master degree in curating and owns a little gallery in Covent Garden. Well, actually Mayfield owns it, she just runs it."

"So, to sum it up, she's made it from the daughter of a drunkard to the fiancee of one of the richest heirs in the kingdom. She's fucked her way to the top. I guess that's all I need to know about her."

"Don't be so sure, August. She seems to be smart," Kyle threw in, "I think there's more to her than the pretty face. It's just a gut feeling but I guess you'll find out soon enough."

August took a deep breath, rolling his eyes at Kyle. "Sure. She's the saint that sleeps with the devil."

"That's not what I said, mate. But whatever she is, you'll have to deal with it."

"What's my cover, Christine?" August wanted to know.

"Well, your alias was born in 1981, just like you, but on the fifth of May. Born and raised in Portland, Maine. Only child, mother deceased, not on speaking terms with his father, a mechanic who still lives in Portland. You can find the details of your early life and your family tree in the memo," she waved the file above her head before she continued. "Careerwise...ex military, ex cop, had some problems following the rules and respecting the law. Single, no ex-wifes, no kids. We kept it plain and simple. They will not dig deep anyway. According to the agency boss, Mayfield expects his bodyguards to be disciplined, always on duty, quiet and discreet. There's three of you. Benjamin Garner is Mayfield's watchdog and his personal assistant, Edward Landow was Johnson's guard you're gonna replace, Andrew Brown is the back-up. You and Garner live with them, Brown lives nearby with his girlfriend. There's other staff of course, a housekeeper, a cook, cleaners. No chauffeur, no butler, no assistant, that's all part of your job."

"Great," August let out an annoyed snort, "so basically I'm gonna be her servant."

"Basically," Chris fixed her gaze on August, "you're not gonna leave her side unless you're told to. Just be professional, stay in the background, prick up your ears, listen closely and be careful. No obvious nosing around. Their penthouse is a high tech fortress, including video monitoring, so just…"

"I know how to work undercover," August cut in impatiently, "just gimme that fucking file and let me do my job."

Christine gave him a pissed look but she handed him the document with a shrug and without further comment. August grabbed it from her hands, staring at the data of his new life, his new name and the composite sketch of his new look. He would have to stop shaving.

*****

tbc

[imatechbummerliketomholland]

"ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙᴏᴏᴋ, ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ?" - ʜ.ᴏ

Hello to you! There it is! My first Harrison request. I'm working for a one shot with him, but it takes me so long because it's a little angst. But don't worry, this one is just fluff! I hope you'll all like it! I did not have time to be reread and corrected. So be indulgent once again, English is not my native language.

Summary: harrison met you in this coffe/bookstore where you friend worked. Since that day, he tried to ask you out but nothing really worked he would like. Until that day. Word count: 2690 Warning: some of swear, spoilers of "one day" by David Nicholls" Pairing : harrison osterfield Request: yes!

You walked happily into the store, heading towards the counter where your best friend was. “The cup and feather” was a second home to you. The warm atmosphere that reigned in the bookstore/cafe has always seduced you. There was a peace of mind that relaxed your muscles: the woody decor, the warm and captivating light, the mixed smell of old/new books and coffee. You were leaning on the counter where Maya was completing an order for a regular.

“Good morning Luke! Enjoy your drink!” you said with a large smile.

“Hello dear y/n! Thanks sweetie! Let me know if you want to drink something. It’s on me”

“It won’t be necessary but thank you. I appreciate!”

The customer adds a generous 10-pound bill to the tip pot with a wink at you. Maya thanked Luke and then gave you a broken look. You gave her an amused smile, shaking your head, already anticipating her next line. But nothing could dissipate your good mood, your day was good.

"It's unbelievable how my tips increase when you're here. What's your secret?"

“Hello to you too, dear best friend. I don't have a secret...but maybe, try to be...nicer to customers? Give them a smile while you're taking their order! ”

“Hello honey. I’m so thankful you’re here. It’s a boring day”

It was a pretty quiet day, there weren't a lot of customers. The rather gloomy London weather seemed to have put them off. A huge thunderous sound echoed outside and Maya jumped. You had a sympathetic and somewhat amused smile. You liked the storm. To be honest, you liked the storm when you weren't alone: feel the heavy, electric atmosphere before the refreshing rain falls. She looked out the window with annoyance.

"Jesus. It looks like it's gonna be a long day" she complained

“Don’t be so dramatic! Let me help. How can I help you?”

“There is this book cart that I have to put away and that has been lying around for an hour. But my boss would kill me if he found out that someone who actually doesn’t work here, did it for me”

Maya gave you a knowing look. It wasn't that she hated you helping her with her work, on the contrary, you were quite useful to her. But she would have preferred that you spend your free time other than helping her. You took a few books from the cart, sticking your tongue out at your best friend and rushing down the aisles of the library section. The distinct sound of a heavy downpour was heard outside and a few seconds later, the store door opened to let in two young, but also handsome, men. Maya bit her lip as one of the individuals approached the counter with a polite but warm smile. He seemed tall, with a thin but toned build, thin lips, his blue eyes pierced her from the moment his eyes met hers; a fucking model.

"Hello. Do you mind if we stay a little while the downpour subsides?" he asked.

" Hell no, of course! You can stay as long as you want as long as I can admire you… uh, shit, no, as long as you order something… did I say the other part out loud?

The second boy laughed, but nothing mocking. He was shorter than the guy across from Maya, brown hair and chocolate eyes, muscular arms but not sculpted like a bodybuilder. He seemed in good shape.

The blonde raised his eyebrows, an amused smile on his lips.

"I'm afraid so. Um ... okay. Tom?" he turned to his friend "Do you want to drink something?"

"Black tea. A single sugar and a drop of milk."

Your friend nodded meaning she heard it and then she patiently waited for the blonde to place his order.

"I'll have mint tea. Just one sugar too."

"Noted! Feel free to go grab a book once you've settled in."

The blonde smiled at Maya as he turned slightly to the tables to settle in with his friend. You were immersed in reading a synopsis when you finally returned to the counter. You looked up too late while talking to your best friend.

"Hey, Maya can I keep - ouch"

You had just hit a rather solid chest and your eyes widened in surprise. Two hands grabbed your shoulders before the fall, stabilizing you on your two good. And thank you, handsome stranger because you would have been able to let yourself fall so as not to drop the book you were holding in your hands.

"Everything's alright, love?"

"Huh Huh" You barely said, still a little surprised by the impact.

He smiled at you and finally joined Tom at a table without giving you a chance to thank him. You leaned against the counter giving your best friend an indecipherable expression.

"Who are these guys?"

"I know, right?" Maya whispered, biting her lips again.

You smiled to her. You and your best friend had the same tastes when it came to boys. So it was no wonder that they found them attractive.You quickly gave a last look on the mysterious guy before focusing on the cart again. Your logic wanted you to go back and forth rather than pushing this wheeled machine. And deep down, it was also an excuse to admire the blond boy at the table 7. When you came back from your last trip down the aisles and there were no books left on the cart. You noticed with a sad expression on your face that both boys were gone. What did you expect? A romantic scene where love story is born in the aisles of a bookstore cafe. What's the point? You might not even have been his type. Correction: You were certainly not his type. Maya came over to you, a mischievous half-smile on her face.

"If you're wondering. His name is Harrison. I heard his friend call him. And he kindly tipped you 25 pounds."

"I don't work here."

"It's just like"

"I would probably never see him again, Maya"

"Believe me, I have a feeling that you will."

☙♡❧

And she was right. The following week did not bring the handsome stranger, the following week either. You had totally, or almost, forgotten this delicious abrupt encounter. You were in the aisles of the cafe, looking for the next book you were going to devour when you were politely tapped on the shoulder, a throat clearing accompanying the gesture.

"Hm, excuse me?"

You turned around and your eyes widened a little in surprise. You did not expect, or more, to see this beautiful stranger again. He was holding a book in his hands and looked nervous. His demeanor was endearing and you couldn't help but suppress a shy smile.

"Yes?"

"I'm looking to get my mom a book. I've heard of this one but ... I wanted your advice."

You raised an amused eyebrow. He wanted to buy a book from his mom and he went to a coffee shop to ask you for advice on a book he obviously couldn't buy here. You found this sweet and awkward. You gave him a shy and mischievous smile.

“You know you're not supposed to buy the books here… just read them. »You joked

"Hmm, yeah ... but ... I wanted your opinion since ..."

"I don't work here ..."

The surprise was read in his eyes as in yours but for different reasons. Harrison felt silly for asking you when you weren't an employee. You, you were surprised by your tone, which seemed so cold when it was not your intention. You didn’t want to be rude to him. In fact, he makes you a little bit uncomfortable. You had never been so awkward with a boy but, for some reason you didn't know, his piercing blue eyes bowled you over. You couldn't deny that you were drawn to him and there was something really spellbinding about Harrison. To catch up you glanced at the book, you wrinkled his nose and you scratched your head

“I'm sorry, this is not the kind of novel I read ... But if she read Fifty-shade of Grey ... this book might please her” you told him, somewhat embarrassed.

Harrison gave you a confused look and you pointed to the cover of the book. To be fair, although he won't admit it, Harrison had grabbed the first book he saw off the storage cart and it actually turned out that it was an erotic fiction rather categorized in the young adult, a bestseller. Honestly, you didn't know where to put yourself. You watched the cheeks of the boy in front of you turn deep red.

"Okay ... Okay. I wasn't there for my mom."

"No shame ..." you tried to comfort him

"No..no i swear. It..i'm … okay ...

A boy with curly hair appeared in the aisle, calling out to the young man, breaking that awkward moment between you at the same time. Harrison's friend seemed vaguely familiar to you, as if you knew him or seemed to know him.

"Harrison, we're late. Tom's gonna kill me, mate!"

Harrison gave a sigh of relief that he seemed to have held back. He gave you a sorry smile and apologized before leaving you, putting the book down on a shelf. They headed for the exit and you stayed there, without moving, still challenged by this moment. You heard a laugh that came from the curl without actually hearing the reason.

"Did you ask her advice about 365 DNI? What kind of div are you?"

"Shut up Harry."

And Harry's laugh echoed one more time before the door closed on them. After a few seconds, you returned to the counter where your best friend was. She nodded at you, as if asking like it had happened. You have to shake your head negatively while shrugging your shoulders. It was the most bizarre interaction you have had in your life. A total failure. With that, he was sure you would never see him again.

☙♡❧

But you were wrong again. You were, again and again, at the cafe. Maya was finishing her shift and you were sitting at a table with a book in your hand. You were in your own little world when your gaze was drawn to a male hand, wearing rings highlighting the veins of that said hand, placing a cup of latte on your table.

"I didn't order any-" you said before interrupting you.

Harrison was in front of you, a shy little smile drawn across his face. You frowned, intrigued. How had he guessed your favorite drink? A simple glance over the blond's shoulder told you your answer: Maya was smiling at you, thumbs up, as a token of encouragement. You looked Harrison, pursed your lips, flattered by the gesture.

“I wanted to apologize for the other time.” Harrison finally spoke.

“It's nothing ... I..I hope your mom liked the book.” you just told him with a little smile

"I… It wasn't for her."

"Oh..for whom?" you asked intrigued.

He smirked, amused by your carelessness. Was he not obvious, however? Since the day he met you, the actor hadn't stopped thinking about you. Tom and Harry kept telling him that he was completely whipped and looked like a fool.

"For no one actually. I grabbed the first book I found."

"But why?" you seemed more confused.

"I wanted to see you. It was a pretext… I didn't know how to approach you."

Your cheeks turned as red as Harrison's the last you met him. You were flattered but at the same time surprised to know that he was interested in you. You've replaced a strand of hair behind your ear, blushing. An awkward silence has settled between you two. Neither of them really knew how to break the ice. Harrison looked up at the book you had put on the table when he arrived.

"What do you read?" he asked interested

“One day by David Nicholls. It’s the one of the most moving books I have ever read.”

And you started talking for hours about how this book moved you and how Anne Hathaway and Jim Sturgess' portrayal in the film adaptation blew your mind. How you went from laughter to tears to anger. How you got attached to the characters in both the book and the movie. Harrison couldn't stop you. He admired you talking with passion and found you endearing. The way you spoke with your hands or the way you frowned when some character action disturbed you. You were in your world and he wanted to enter it.

"I hope we end up like them." He said, interrupting you.

You suddenly stopped in your monologue looking at Harrison puzzled. You didn't expect this. First, because by knowing the story of this novel. You didn't want anyone to experience people's stories, no matter how beautiful it was. Second, did Harrison just say he was considering something with you?

"Like who?" you asked

"Emma and Dexter ... I hope we have such a great story."

You pursed your lips, amused. You swallowed to keep from laughing and you shook your head. You were sure he didn't read the book but you wanted to play with him a little.

"I don't hope so."

"Why? Their love story is beautiful!"

"You haven't read this book have you?"

"Of course yes!" he defended himself, uncomfortable.

In truth, he was lying. He was trying to impress you. He had simply said he wanted to live this love affair to soften you and try to approach you to ask for a date. Once again, you smiled, genuinely amused by the boy in front of you. He looked so innocent and so confident in her walk. But you knew ... You knew he hadn't read the book.

"Harrison, she dies at the end"

Harrison's cheeks have once again turn red. He played with his hands nervously, embarrassed. He was an idiot, a complete fucking div. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to let go of all the stress he had accumulated but also to find a way to make up for it. You were blowing him outright. He thought you were so beautiful and had never been so awkward about approaching a girl. Of course, Harry had introduced him to his ex-girlfriend. But, the actor had never had a hard time flirting. He knew his strengths, he was kinda funny, can't deny he was pretty handsome, after all he was a model. He was also an actor, he could play all emotions, recite hundreds of lines of dialogue. But you looked different and he was unable to have a conversation with you without being ridiculous. You found that rather adorable.

"Okay, okay. I don't hope we end up like them."

“I hope you don't wait 20 years before asking me out?”

Harrison looked at you surprised. Did you really just reach out to her? Did he hear what you just said or did his imagination play a dirty trick on him? Her heart skipped a beat. You pursed your lips before putting on a warm but shy smile. You weren't that confident in normal times but ... but it was pushing you out of your comfort zone. You liked him, his clumsiness made you laugh and moved you a lot. You wanted to know him better. And with a simple smile, Harrison knew he had the green light.

"Would you ... have coffee with me?"

"I'm already taking one with you, idiot" you joked ...

"Yeah..hmm, okay ... um. Would you like to go on a date ... one day?"

Your smile widened. You didn't know if he had chosen his last words intentionally but you liked to think he had. And if it wasn't, that awkwardness had melted your heart. You bit your lip, a smile still on your face. Your cheeks were rosy with emotion. Eventually, you might have had your romantic story at a coffee shop / bookstore.

“Yes, Harrison. I would like to go out with you.