#I don’t know I just thought it sounded fun

[traveler-at-heart]

Doctor's In - Part 14

Summary: The universe (and some people) conspire to reunite you with Wanda.

“Y/N” Wanda says, and your heart beats faster.

“Hey. Hi. How…”

How are you? is such an idiotic question to ask. You clear your throat, running your fingers through your hair.

“What’s up?”

Ok, that’s worse.

“Sorry for bothering you, I wasn’t… I wasn’t thinking clearly. Tommy ran away…”

“Wait, he what? Hold on, I��ll call you when I’m at the airport”

“No, no” Wanda pleads, regretting her choice of words. “He’s safe. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you”

“Ok. Maybe lead with that next time?” you sigh, collapsing in the sofa.

Wanda laughs and it makes your heart swoon. And ache.

“You’re right, I’m so sorry. Like I said… I wondered if he might have been in touch with you or something and that’s why I called. But he’s safe now”

“I haven’t spoken to them since I left” you say in a small voice, and Wanda falls silent for a moment.

“They ask about you all the time”

“I think about them all the time”

And about you.

“Anyways. Sorry for scaring you and interrutpting”

“Just watching a movie” you say, knowing she’s referring to Natasha. Though you don’t owe her an explanation.

You both stay silent and you have to hold back tears.

“Uh, sorry about leaving my stuff. I could get someone to pick them up. I’m not going back to Westview until Carol’s wedding in April” you say.

“No, that’s fine. Don’t worry about it, leave them here and just come over when you’re in town” Wanda says, disappointed to hear that you don’t have any immediate plans to come back to Westview.

“Ok, thanks. I should…”

“I follow Jenny on instagram” Wanda says, clearly ignoring your attempt to end the conversation.

“Really?” you play dumb. “You know I don’t have social media, so we just text”

“She posted a picture of you. And your brother I assume?”

“Zach, yeah. She’s applying to NYU, so we had a weekend there. The usual, Broadway, baseball. It was fun”

“It looked like fun, yeah” Wanda nods, remembering how much joy it brought her to see you again.

You looked fine. A little tired, but the smile was there, maybe because your sister was hugging you close while your brother made a face.

Of course they’d love you, even if you hadn’t been in contact for years. You are amazing.

And Wanda fucked it up. She stares at the ring, still thinking about whether or not to tell you she found it.

“Y/N…”

There’s the distinct sound of a pager and you sigh.

“Great. I’m sorry, I have to go”

“I understand” Wanda says. “You take care of yourself now, ok?”

“Bye, Wanda”

You hang up, because you can’t stand the idea of saying goodbye to her. Is this really how it ends? A stupid phone conversation and you taking back boxes of clothes in a few months.

You wish you could call her back and tell her this is bullshit, she was an ass and so were you, but you can work through it.

But you don’t, because you’re scared of what she has to say.

So you leave for work, thinking about her voice, her laugh, her lips on your skin.

And how the memories are all that’s left of your life together.

—

Wanda stares at the phone. Just when she had gathered the courage to tell you about the ring, you hung up.

Maybe it was for the best.

What would you even say? That you planned on proposing and then Wanda ruined everything? Hurt you, destroyed your relationship beyond repair.

Knowing about the ring didn’t change things, not on your side.

Wanda sat on the porch, holding on to the ring box. She opens it again, amazed at how beautiful and perfect it is. It was obvious you had put so much thought into picking the right ring.

“Señor Scratchy!” Agatha calls for him, around the corner. “Why didn’t Rio give me a freakin fish instead? Hey, Wanda”

“Hi, Agatha. Your bunny again?”

“Yeah, he likes to escape. Heard you have one of those as well” she smiles, referring to Tommy.

“How did you…?”

“Oh, haven’t you heard” the woman keeps chatting as she looks around, hoping to spot the animal. “Your mom and I are besties. I was just with Mrs. Davies”

Of course.

“I think he’s right here” Wanda thinks she spots the bunny, moving forward. She tries to catch him with both hands, but ends up dropping the box, revealing the ring.

“Damn, that’s nice” Agatha whistles, picking it up and examining it. “Family heirloom?”

“No, not exactly” Wanda shakes her head, picking up the bunny and hugging him close to her chest.

Agatha sits next to her, still looking at the ring.

“So, she was proposing. Come on, it doesn’t take a genius to know” she says when Wanda gives her a look.

“God, I screwed up so bad” Wanda shakes her head. “She left for good and I won’t ever be able to fix this”

“Did she really?”

“What?”

“Leave? For good. Don’t you have all her clothes here? If she was done, she would have taken them out, changed her number, thrown the ring into the river” Agatha argues, placing the box down.

“I hurt her too much. She’ll never forgive me”

“Are we talking about the same Y/N? The one that brought medicine to that old lady down the street even if she was a homophobic demon?”

“Agatha, don’t speak ill of the dead” Wanda says, though Mrs. Miller was the worst person she ever met.

“Well, she’s in a warmer place now. But anyway! That’s not the point. You can stay here and cry all day or you can at least try. You’re assuming the worst and that’s what led you here, isn’t it?”

“Well…”

“Get your sorry ass from the floor and do something about it, Maximoff! Get the girl back” Agatha says, shaking Wanda by the shoulders.

“Ok, ok! I’ll think of something”

“Good girl. Now hand me back my bunny. We’re past our bedtime”

—

Darcy’s walking down the hallway when she gets a text from you.

Y/N: Out on a sidequest, call you later. Love ya

“Who does she think she is, deciding when I get to scold her?” she complains. The brunette is so busy typing out a response that she misses the man that almost crashes into her.

“So sorry. I’m looking for Chief Fury”

“Job interview?” she says, arching her eyebrow.

“Yes, for Head of Trauma”

“Right. Well, I’m sorry that no one told you before, but that position’s been taken. Better luck next time…” she dismisses the man, the way she’s been tricking the few people who have been meeting the chief.

Darcy’s always looking for a way to sabotage the interviews, either by lying and saying the position’s closed or by feeding them false information. Like Fury likes to be greeted with two kisses, one on each cheek.

That was a fun day.

The man walks away, and she’s about to reply to you when someone calls her from the corner.

“Psss”

Darcy looks around, her eyes meeting Rio’s. This is gonna be interesting.

“What’s up, girl?”

“I know someone who is looking to form an alliance… to bring Y/N back” she whispers, and then smiles like a psycho. “She wants to speak to you”

“If it’s Wanda…”

“Nope. Do you agree to a meeting? I’ll set it up”

Darcy thinks about it for a second, considering if it’s worth it. She should at least get to know her potential ally.

“Fine. But I’m not meeting them in a dark alley”

“I’ll arrange it”

Darcy is about to change her mind when Chief Fury calls for her. In the split second it takes her to look back at her boss, Rio has completely vanished.

“You wouldn’t happen to have seen a doctor that was coming for an interview?”

“No, and boy, look at the time, it’s appy hour at Stark Hospital!” she glances at her wrist watch. “See ya around, boss!”

“You can’t keep sending them home, Lewis! We need a new Head of Trauma” Fury says.

“Totally, good luck with that!”

—

“Ready?”

“No” you say, refusing to leave the dressing room. You see Darcy typing but then her text is never sent. She’s probably working.

Which is what you’d rather be doing instead of trying on dresses.

“Come out now” Natasha commands, and her tone leaves little room for argument.

“Fine”

You stumble awkwardly out of the changing room, not used to wearing dresses.

“I look stupid” you complain, and Natasha supresses a laugh. “I’m not going!”

That makes her jump.

“You look fine!”

“It’s not my style. And why are you picking out dresses for me?”

“Because I already have mine, and I know what will match” Natasha explains, handing you another one. “Try this one”

Before you can protest, Yelena jumps out, admiring herself on the mirror.

“My boobs look great in this!”

“Yeah, they do” you nod, which earns you a slap on the arm by Natasha. “Hey, I’m just being supportive. Unlike that bra she’s wearing”

“I’m not wearing a bra. I think it will look better that way” she comments.

“No, you just want to piss off mother” Natasha says, leaning against the wall. She waits until you step out to help pull your zipper up. “See? You clean up nice”

“I still don’t like it” you mutter. “I’m a pants kinda gal through and through”

Yelena has settled on her dress, which makes you feel pressured to pick something. So you just let Natasha decide and walk with her to the register.

“I’m paying for it”

“Nu-uh”

“You’re going as a favor to me”

“It’s an open bar, you will regret inviting me”

You try to reach for her hand and drop her credit card, but she’s faster. And infuriating. The struggle makes you lose your footing, dropping to the floor.

“You’re both idiots” Yelena steps over you to pay for her clothes.

As Natasha helps you up, you look at a shop across the street.

“Wow, those are pretty cool”

“Huh…” Natasha looks you up and down, evaluating the possibilities. “Leave that dress. We’re finding something else”

—

Wanda’s looking at her phone again. Ekaterina and Pietro share a look, knowing something’s up.

Everyone’s home today, even if it’s a school day. Considering everything that happened yesterday, Wanda thought it might be a good idea to let the kids stay, watch movies and have some family time.

Though she still has to go to a meeting with Laura. The book is getting published soon and there are events they have to plan, like readings at bookshops or libraries.

It was Wanda’s favorite part about releasing a new book. And the worst thing is she was looking forward to having you by her side, to share all the things that happen while doing it.

“Gotta go meet Laura. I won’t be long” she announces, and is pleasantly surprised when the twins rush to hug her goodbye. “Let’s all go out for dinner, what do you guys think?”

“Yeah, sounds fun” Tommy says, going back to the couch where he’s playing videogames with Pietro.

Before starting her drive, she breathes deeply and decides to just pull the plug. So, she sents you a message and hopes you’ll answer.

Wanda has to remind herself that you’re probably busy and that’s why there’s no reply when she parks outside of her friend’s office.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Laura goes straight to hug her. “I’m happy Tommy’s ok”

“Yeah, we’re all good. Just hoping things get better soon”

“Of course. Honestly, we don’t have to talk about the promo tour today, you should go home and spend time with them, Wanda”

“No, that’s fine. I could use the distraction” she nods, pulling out her laptop.

For the next hour, they go over the calendar, deciding which events will take priority. It’s a month and a half away, but Wanda knows time flies when you have to meet a deadline.

“There’s one last thing” Laura says, trying to sound normal. “And listen, just give it some thought, ok?”

“What is it?”

“You know Wendy Lawson, right?”

“The legendary author? Of course I do. Who doesn’t?”

“She’s working on a new book, and she asked specifically about you to illustrate it” Laura says, with a very distinct lack of enthusiasm.

“Ok, that’s amazing! That’s every artist’s dream. Why are you making it sound like a bad thing?” Wanda says, confused.

“Well, here’s the thing. She doesn’t want to just do everything over video calls or anything else. Wendy is asking for you to go back and forth to review designs in person. And it’s right before the tour, so… it’s gonna be a hassle”

Wanda realises a second later that Wendy Lawson is currently living in Boston.

“I’ll do it” she says, her mind racing with ideas.

She could go and look for you, try to talk face to face. Fix everything, or at the very least try.

This seems like more than a coincidence.

It’s meant to be.

“Really? What about the kids?”

“Well, it doesn’t look like my mother is planning on leaving anytime soon. And seeing as this is a once in a lifetime opportunity…”

“Yeah, it is. Alright, then let’s set up a meeting with her team. I do think you have to speak with her editor first, but they’ll be happy to fly you to Boston” Laura says, shocked that it took no effort to convince Wanda. This really was a great opportunity, but all things considered, she was expecting a very firm no on her friend’s side.

“Great” Wanda says, putting her things away. “It’s settled then”

She feels very optimistic once she gets in the car.

It’s even better when you finally reply to her text.

The music’s loud as she drives home, but for the first time it isn’t to keep her from thinking about you. It’s just because she’s happy.

—

Darcy’s not sure this is a good idea.

She’s sitting at the diner like Rio told her, with her back to the door.

“Whatever you do, don’t look at the people coming in. They want to remain in the shadows” Rio had said with a somber expression.

Maybe it was all a prank.

But still, she hears the door open and close, and then someone is sitting on the booth behind her, and she’s back to back with her mysterious ally.

“Doctor Darcy Lewis?” a woman says.

“Yes” Darcy frowns. “Who am I speaking to?”

“That is not important, Doctor Lewis. What’s important is that we share a common goal”

“Bring Y/N back”

“With Wanda” the mystery woman adds.

“Now wait a minute!” Darcy snaps, ignoring the warning of not looking at the woman. “Nu-uh. I don’t give a damn if she gets back with Wanda. In fact, I don’t think she deserves her, not after all the shitty things she said to my friend”

“Love is complicated, Doctor”

“Is it now, Mrs. Maximoff?” Darcy glares.

The woman sighs, moving to Darcy’s booth and sitting in front of her.

“How did you know?”

“Gut feeling. Plus you have the same eyes” the brunette crosses her arms, ready to continue arguing. “Like I said, I want my friend back because this is where she belongs. Whatever the deal is between her and Wanda is none of my concern. Especially because she’s the reason Y/N left in the first place”

“And you don’t think they can fix it?” the woman asks. It sounds like she really wants to know, considering Darcy is your best friend and knows you better than anyone.

And truth is, you were really happy with Wanda. It felt like you had found a place in the world, with a family that loved you.

“Maybe. I know Y/N still loves Wanda. That’s why she ran away. She was probably scared to ask Wanda to work it out and have her slam the door in her face”

“Yes, well, my daughter isn’t particularly good at dealing with rejection either” Ekaterina sighs.

“Fine. If it means I get my best friend back I can work with you. But I won’t put in a good word for Wanda unless I’m convinced she’ll do better”

“That’s fair”

“So, let’s get some food. Seems like we have a lot of planning to do” Darcy says, smiling at the other woman.

—

It’s all moving surprisingly fast. As in, Wanda already has a flight booked for Friday, returning early Saturday.

Her mother takes the news surprisingly well.

“Mama, if it’s too much work I’m sure I can get a babysitter…”

“A stranger to look after my boys!” Ekaterina sighs, exasperated. “I’m not that old, malyshka. I can handle it for two days”

“Alright, if you’re sure…”

“Yes. Now I have to take my daily walk. Come, little dog” she calls for Sparky, who is eager to get out of the house.

There’s a reason behind it, though. She needs to call her secret ally and update her on the news.

“Darcy here” the brunette greets. “I know you’re calling to scold me, but I haven’t been able to convince her to come back for Carol’s fake bridal shower”

“That won’t be necessary. Wanda’s going to Boston”

“Damn, you’re good. How did you get her to do it?” Darcy says.

“Oh, the universe works in mysterious ways. It’s actually something about work but it might be a good chance for them to meet. Can you find out what Y/N is doing this week? I’ll try to convince Wanda to meet her”

“Wait, when did you say she was going to Boston?”

“Oh… you heard already” Kate Bishop comes out of nowhere. “I-I’m sorry, I meant to tell you sooner, and it’s only going to be a week, I promise I’ll come back”

“Bishop, what are you babbling about?” Darcy interrupts, frowning. She’s definitely not as patient as you were with the resident.

“I thought you knew about me going to Boston for a few days. Just to observe the kidney transplant. Yelena invited me”

“Ok, hold on. Ekaterina, we have someone on the inside”

“Inside of what? You Americans and your vulgar…”

“Gotta call you back” Darcy hangs up, pulling Kate along. “Ok, tell me everything you’re supposed to do. If you want Y/N back to teaching you, you have to agree to be our doble agent”

“Our?”

“That’s not important” Darcy dismisses her question. “Now speak”

—

Wanda: Do you have a moment to chat?

Y/N: Hey, I’m going to join a surgery. Can call in a few hours.

Y/N: Everything ok?

Wanda has been texting you here and there to ask about small stuff. It’s always something related to things you were in charge of, like Sparky’s vet appointments or her car’s maintenance.

If it makes her life easier, you’re more than happy to help. It’s the least you could do.

Except today. She texted early and you honestly didn’t check your phone. Now calls aren’t coming through either.

“Hey, Kate” you greet at the front desk, still looking at your phone. “Checked my post ops yet? There’s this guy in room 1045 that I need to…”

Wait a damn minute.

You finally look up.

“Hi” your former resident greets with a smile and you finally snap out of it.

This is Boston. Kate doesn’t work here.

“What are you… is Darcy here?” you look around, knowing your friend is capable of kidnapping you if that’s what it takes.

“No, I’m here because Yelena invited me to see the kidney transplant” she rushes to explain. “Also, hi Doctor Y/L/N. It’s good to see you”

“Call me Y/L, I’m not your superior anymore. And yeah, right back at you” you smile at her. You’re about to say goodbye as you have some patients to check still but she speaks again.

“We all miss you. Barnes and Doctor Lewis fight all the time”

“That sounds about right. I miss everyone too” you admit with a sad smile. “Anyway, gotta check on post ops. See you there”

It’s a little freaky, to see Kate in the midde of a hospital that is not Stark. Like you’re having deja vu or something. It almost feels like you’ll run into Darcy next, or get a surprise visit from Wanda to drop off some cookies.

Stop it.

You need to focus. All eyes are on the hospital for the next few days as they’ll perform the second xenotransplant. It’s amazing, really. A genetically-edited pig kidney into a living recipient.

And although you’re not in the surgical team, you are allowed in the OR to observe and help.

“You’ll never believe who I ran into” you say when you spot Natasha. “Kate. She said Yelena invited her”

“Huh. Do you think that she’s also her date to the gala?” Natasha frowns. In that precise moment, Yelena walks by, making you both turn to look at her. Without saying anything, you run after her, Natasha close behind.

You manage to catch up, blocking her path and making sure Natasha doesn’t let her escape either.

“I don’t have time to play games”

“Is it because you’re little girlfriend is already here?” you mock.

“What?”

“Kate Bishop” Natasha clarifies.

“That is not… you don’t even know what… сука! Both of you” Yelena blushes. Natasha and you laugh at her expression, and she uses the distraction to walk around you. She makes sure you get to see her flipping you off before disappearing around the corner.

“Are you ready?” Natasha asks, turning her attention towards you.

“Yeah. I’m just observing, never been to one”

“I meant the gala”

“Oh, that. I’ve never been to one of those either”

“Just eat, drink, laugh” Natasha eases your nerves. “Mother is the only one giving a speech. She wants to let everyone know we’re doing another transplant”

“Wait, but why would she schedule the surgery after the gala? Is it because post op is a lot of work?”

“You know the rejection risk is higher with genetically altered organs” Natasha explains. “If the gala happens before the surgery, she can just mention we are doing it. Now, if it goes wrong, it won’t be part of the speech”

“Oh, ok”

“It’s all politics” she says, understanding you’re career has never been about that.

“Well, I’ll see you in the penthouse? Don’t know if the lovebirds are riding with us”

“Seven thirty” Natasha nods, leaving to check on some patients.

The sound of your phone makes you turn back, but it’s not Wanda.

“Hey, Darcy. Guess who’s in Boston?”

“Hey, pal. Oh, do tell” the brunette asks, curious if Ekaterina convinced Wanda to let you know about her travel plans.

“Kate. Yelena invited her to this gala the Romanoffs are planning. It was so crazy running into her in the front desk. For a moment I thought I went back in time”

“Oh. Yeah, Kate” Darcy sounds disappointed, which is weird. “She took some days off but I had no idea that was her plan” she lies.

“Well, I’m sure she didn’t want anyone to think I was convincing her to leave Stark Hospital”

“So, a gala!” Darcy changes the subject. “Sounds fun. Are you going?”

“Yeah. There’s an open bar”

“And are you bringing a date?”

“Well, I am the date. I’m Natasha’s plus one” you explain, and there’s an awkward pause on the other side of the line. “Uh, Darcy?”

Damn it, damn it.

Darcy already knew about the gala. It was so easy to make Kate crack under the slightest pressure.

But her plan was to make Wanda reach out today and you’d ask her to be your date. You being Natasha’s date is not gonna work out.

“Yeah, I just… so what are you doing the day after the gala?”

“Kidney transplant. I mean, not doing it. But just watching and assisting for a bit”

For fuck’s sake, would you even have a spare moment to meet Wanda?

This might be the only chance she’d get, considering it wouldn’t be certain she’d be getting the job.

“Ok, well. Have fun doing everything. Sounds like you’re booked and busy”

“Yeah. I’ll tell you how it goes. Bye, Darcy”

As soon as you hang up, Darcy calls Wanda’s mother.

“We need to delay the operation contact zero for one day”

“I’ll call my insider” the woman answers criptically.

“You scare me, Ekaterina” Darcy says, questioning if the woman is some sort of retired spy. When she hears the older woman laugh and hang up, she’s 99% convinced that’s the case.

—

“What do you mean, if I can keep her occupied for the entire day? Laura, I’m pregnant!”

“Lily, I know…”

“So pregnant, that if I so much as sneeze, I’m positive this baby will just pop out!”

“That’s not how it works, thankfully. Trust me, I know”

“Laura…” the woman pinches the bridge of her nose.

Should have taken maternity leave sooner.

“Look, I get it. It’s complicated, but I promise you, if you listen to me, Wanda will sign the deal and go back and forth between Boston and Westview”

Thing is, Lily really needs this. If her boss finally finds an illustrator that can live up to her expectations, then she can take her leave and not be bothered by work in the upcoming 12 weeks.

“Ok, fine. I’ll figure something out”

“Thank you, I owe you big time”

“Uh-hu. Yeah, you do, Mrs. Barton”

“Oh, and try to keep her away from her phone”

“Anything else? Oh, gotta go”

Wanda Maximoff comes out of the arrival’s section in the airport, looking around. Lily waves her hand, and the redhead walks towards her with a smile.

“Hello, you must be Lily…” she goes to shake her hand, but the other woman pulls her in for a hug.

“Sorry about the baby bump, he wants to say hi as well”

“No, no worries at all. How far along?”

“Well, 39 weeks which means I’m ready to pop any day now! That also means we get a driver to take us anywhere you want. So get in the car and prepare for a very busy day, Wanda”

“Oh, my phone is in my bag…” Wanda says as Lily throws it in the trunk.

“No worries, Laura has my number. If anyone needs to reach you she can text or call” the woman insists, hoping Wanda doesn’t push it.

Of course, she doesn’t as she wants to make a good impression on her potential employers.

“Let’s start with the Paul Revere house, shall we?”

—

You look at yourself in the mirror for the tenth time. When was the last time you dressed fancy?

Even if it’s tailored to perfection, you’re still making sure the red suit is looking fine, adjusting the white shirt underneath the jacket.

Though you don’t know what Natasha’s wearing, she promised you’d match.

And she’s right, because when she knocks on your door and you open it, she’s wearing a black and red sequenced dress. It’s a mermaid cut that favors her figure.

“Shall we get going?” she says when you keep staring.

“Yes, of course. Don’t laugh at me” you add when you spot a faint smile on her face.

“I already told you, it’s fun to see you flustered”

“Mhm. Are the lovebirds joining us?”

“I think they’ll be arriving separately. It’s not like prom where we all ride a limo”

“Well, I didn’t go to prom, and if I had, it certainly wouldn’t have been on a limo” you say, making Natasha laugh.

She drives you to the gala, as you have no idea where it’s all happening. A man approaches to open your door and help you out.

“Fancy” you comment when a valet takes Natasha’s car. “And I’m surprised you let anyone else drive that thing”

“They already know how much it costs” she comments.

If you think a man opening the car door is fancy, then what the hell is the thing waiting inside? There’s a chandelier, a string quartet, servers dressed to the nines and the best part, an open bar with all the things you could dream of drinking.

“Hey, where are you dragging me?”

“We have to say hello first” Natasha says through her teeth. “You’ll get drunk later, trust me”

The woman drags you to a table where Melina is chatting with two men, and they introduce themselves. The names don’t ring any bells, but apparently they are congressmen.

“A pleasure” you say, hoping the small talk can end soon.

“Is this your first gala? I don’t recall seeing you before”

“Yes, I’m working as Head of Trauma at Romanoff Medical Center until they can find someone to stay for good” you explain.

“Why not stay here? Is there somewhere else you might want to go?”

“I’m not sure. Coming to Boston was never in my plans but here I am. I guess I’m just living one day at a time” you say with a fake smile. Natasha picks up on your discomfort, ending the conversation and excusing the both of you.

She goes around the room to introduce you to other people, but when Yelena finally arrives you walk up to meet her.

“Took your sweet time” Natasha scolds her.

“We got caught up… in something” Yelena explains as Kate joins her. You notice she’s wearing an all black suit, which is a stark contrast to Yelena’s golden, low cut dress.

“Oh, looks like you have a hickey there” you point at a spot in Yelena’s neck, her hand flying to cover it.

“I told you not to…” she glares at Kate, and you laugh.

“She didn’t. But now we know you both were getting nasty”

Natasha laughs as well. Yelena is about to curse at you, when her mother interrupts her.

“Behave” she warns. “Hello, I am Yelena’s mother”

“Kate Bishop” the girl introduces herself, and Melina arches an eyebrow.

“Bishop, as in Bishop Security?”

“Yes, that would be correct” Kate says, visibly awkward.

“Well, I’d love to catch up with your mother. Had I known you’d be here, I would have invited her as well. Next time” Melina nods, leaving as someone calls for her a moment later.

“So, am I the only one who isn’t some sort of nepo baby?” you throw the question in the air, making the Romanoffs roll their eyes.

“I’ll find our seats”

Yelena leaves too, but Kate stays behind, sitting next to you at the bar.

“So…”

“Whisky neat” you ask the bartender as he walks by.

“When are you returning to Westview?” Kate says.

“Make it a doble” you add, sighing. The brunette doesn’t take the hint, though.

“You are returning to Westview, right? Doctor Lewis mentioned your contract is only for three months…”

“Yeah, but I quit. And I doubt Fury will want to hire me again. I was a jerk that left without any notice, all because I couldn’t handle my break up” you mutter against the glass, sipping.

But Kate’s always been curious, questioning everything. It’s what makes her a great student, but right now? She’s a pain in your ass.

“So, what are you doing when the contract…?”

“Jesus, Kate. I don’t know. I try not to plan ahead ever since I bought a ring and fucked up my entire relationship. I had expectations about the future and now I can barely leave my bed. So, when my contract’s done I’ll decide what to do next”

“Right, I’m sorry”

“Kate, come sit” Yelena calls for her, her tone gentle. You look up, meeting hazel eyes that are glaring at you. But you decide to ignore Yelena and keep drinking.

The bartender sneaks out to smoke every ten minutes. Though this last break has been longer and you are in desperate need for more alcohol.

Another woman walks up to the bar, looking around.

“Ugh, I’ll do it myself. What can I get you?” you give up, walking behind the bar. You nod as you listen to the woman ask for a gin tonic. Between sips of your own drink, you pour gin over the ice, add tonic water and lime juice.

“Delicious!” the woman says. “Are you a bartender as well?”

“No, I’m a surgeon, which is why that lemon wedge is so perfectly cut” you joke, raising your glass to clink it against hers. “I’m Y/N”

“Valkyrie” the woman introduces herself. “Which hospital?”

“Stark Hospital” you answer out of habit. Then you shake your head, and clear your throat. “Sorry, meant to say I was at Stark, now I’m at RMC”

“So you must know Maria”

“Rambeau? Yeah, she’s great. I’m actually going to be her fiancee’s bridesmaid” you say, smiling.

“Glad to hear they were able to fix things. I was sad to see her go from the program, though, it was great to have such an experienced Peeds surgeon” she sighs.

“Wait. You’re on Doctor’s Without Borders?”

“Yes, I coordinate international programs. Why? You interested?” the woman smiles.

“Well… my contract is temporary. And I’ve always wanted to do that, but never really had the time or means”

After med school, it took a while for you to settle and pay off your student debt, so even participating in something like that felt like a bit of a luxurious career detour that you couldn’t afford.

But now, with all the money you’re earning -and saving on rent- it could very well be the next step in your career.

“You don’t have to answer right away. Here’s my card” Val says. “Remind me your specialty”

“Trauma”

“Never mind, you’re coming on the next flight with me” she jokes and you laugh.

Someone else calls for her and Val raises her glass, grateful for the drink. As you wave goodbye, you notice yours is painfully empty.

“Can I get some tequila, please?” you ask the bartender, who is finally back. However, Natasha comes out of nowhere, speaking over you.

“She’ll have water or coffee”

“Hey! Are you this controlling with all your dates?”

“Only when I find out my mother wants to put you on the spot in the middle of her speech” she whispers, which makes your eyes widen. “You’re too drunk to be coherent, so better sober up, now”

“What does she even want me to say?” you whisper yell as Natasha takes you to the table.

“That we’re a Level 1 Trauma Center and will continue to be one with your work”

“I’m not staying…”

“She’s hoping that putting you on the spot will awaken some sense of duty. Don’t expect it to make sense” Natasha mutters, sitting next to you.

Kate is to your left, chatting with Yelena, tensing when you sit down next to her.

Melina walks up to the small stage, and people clap as she prepares for her speech.

“Hey, about before…” you lean towards Kate, trying to apologize. Yelena shushes you and you glare. “I’m still your boss, Belova”

“Not tonight” she says, pulling Kate by the hand so she turns to the stage, her back to you.

“Evening’s going great” you grumble next to Natasha.

“I see why you only leave the penthouse to go clubbing”

But you can’t say anyhting as Melina begins her speech, thanking every big donor of the Romanoff foundation, NGOs working to bring awareness about certain diseases and the hospital staff, of course.

“It’s an exciting time for us. We are gearing up to do the second xenotransplant of a genetically altered kidney” Melina pauses when people clap again. “We’re also advancing and innovating in the ER, and as some of you may already know, we have a new…”

“I’m gonna throw up” you complain, hating whenever there’s attention drawn to you.

“Just clap and smile along”

“I’m seriously gonna throw up” you say, regretting the amount of alcohol you drank.

And just as Melina is about to say your name and point towards you, a man walks in the room, shouting.

“Is there a doctor here? We have an emergency!”

—

Wanda’s had quite the day. She’s now barely making it to the hotel, Lily waddling next to her.

“Oh, looks like there’s a fancy gala happening” she points out as they walk across the lobby.

Wanda doesn’t pay attention to that, finally able to check her messages.

The last one was of you saying you’d be out for the evening but that Wanda could call anytime if she needed something.

Honestly, she can’t wait to go up to her room and call you.

Unless…

Did you mean you were out on a date?

Wanda’s still trying to figure out the meaning behind the message when Lily, who was speaking to the receptionist to confirm Wanda’s reservation, laughs nervously.

“Well, looks like my water just broke”

“What did you just say?” Wanda snaps out of it, looking at Lily’s feet. “Well, ok, calm down. It’s gonna be fine. Can we get some help here?”

“What’s wrong?” the concierge asks, but catches on a second later when Lily sits on the floor, breathing heavily. “Oh, crap. Let’s just…”

For some weird reason, he runs to the other room where the fancy event is happening, shouting that they need a doctor.

Half the room turns to look at him and at least an entire table stands up.

“What kind of emergency?”

“A woman’s in labor”

“Ok, show me. Excuse me, ER doctor coming through”

Wanda’s so focused on helping Lily breath, that she doesn’t fully notice what’s happening or rather, who kneels beside her until she hears your voice.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Y/L/N. What’s your name?”

You’re completely immersed in your work, removing your jacket and pulling up the sleeves of your shirt to move around freely.

“Lily. I’m 39 weeks pregnant, should I push?”

“No, no! Absolutely not!” you rush to say, “Let’s call an ambulance, please?”

As you look around the room, seeing who will do as you ask, you finally notice someone who is kneeling next to you. Must be a friend of the woman.

You turn to ask if there’s anyone you should call when you meet those beautiful, green eyes. Ones you’d recognise anywhere.

“Wanda?”

“Hey”

Hey? Seriously?

A whole month thinking about you every second of every god damn day and the best Wanda can do is say hey

Are you fucking kidding me, Maximoff.

“Do you need help?”

“I’m here, I’m her resident”

Even if Yelena and Kate are… whatever they are, they’re still going to compete over getting some cases.

“Check her pulse and time contractions, if there are any” you tell them both, standing up and dragging Wanda with you. “I’m very confused right now. Are the kids ok? Why are you here?”

“It’s kind of a long story… and I, that’s why I texted earlier, but then the day got crazy and you told me you were on a date”

“Not a date” Natasha clarifies, appearing behind you. “Ambulance is here, the hospital’s been alerted. You should ride with them, get out of the speech while you can”

“Thanks” you nod, seeing the EMTs pull over. You turn to Wanda. “Are you coming with her?”

“No, Wanda, stay and get some rest, I made you walk around the city all day” Lily pleads.

“Are you crazy? No one should be doing this alone. I’m coming with you until your boyfriend gets to the hospital” Wanda decides, jumping on the back of the ambulance with Lily and you.

Yelena and Kate scramble to their feet, trying to get on the vehicle as well.

“Ok, it’s a little crowded in here, plus this is your family’s gala and Bishop, you are Yelena’s date. No one else goes”

“Fine” they mutter, disappointed.

The ride to the hospital is silent except for the machines monitoring Lily’s blood pressure. You’re keeping an eye on that, while checking on her heartbeat, using a stethoscope that you found in the ambulance.

“I forgot how good you are at that” Wanda says when your eyes meet again.

“At what? Checking a heartbeat?”

“Handling toddlers”

She’s talking about Yelena and Kate, which makes you laugh.

“Well, Billy and Tommy behave a hell of a lot better than those two back there”

“Not lately” Wanda sighs.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mess everything up so badly, Wanda” you regret, leaning back.

“Am I missing something? You two know each other?” Lily says, pointing at Wanda and then at you. “Is that why Laura asked me to keep you busy this entire day?”

“She what?”

“We dated” you offer as an explanation, smiling at the woman in the stretcher.

“How long ago? Because you are still giving each other some major heart eyes”

It’s clear that the mild sedative is making the woman spill her every thought.

“Until a month ago”

“Well, whichever one of you screwed up, better get their act together because you’re clearly not over each other” Lily says.

“It was my fault” Wanda says at the same time as you. You both look at each other and you give her a small smile.

“I beg to differ, Miss Maximoff. It was me who got it all wrong”

“Not just you. I messed up real bad” Wanda says, leaning forward.

You’re about to say something else when the ambulance stops, and the doors open. You excuse yourself, giving the nurses and doctors a summary of the patient, walking next to Lily’s stretcher.

“I’ll come find you once she’s settled in a room” you promise Wanda.

She nods, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. What are the odds?

Which also brings her back to what Lily said. Why did Laura want her busy for the entire day?

There’s only one way to find out.

“Hey, how did it go today?” her friend picks up the phone, though it sounds like there’s an echo.

“Am I on speaker?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m cooking dinner” Laura lies.

“Are there children around?”

“No, why…”

“Ok, then what the fuck is going on, Laura?”

Somebody else whistles, and Wanda hears Pietro’s voice.

“Looks like you ladies got caught”

“Why are you there? Who else is around? Somebody better tell me what the hell is going on right now…”

“Give that to me” Darcy says, pushing Laura out of the way. “Hi, nice speaking to you, Maximoff. It’s just me, Laura, your mother and Pietro. Listen, we’ve been busting our asses for you to meet at the right time and find a way to make up with Y/N so I get my best friend back. So don’t fuck it up now, ok?”

“You’re not helping!” Laura protests. “Wanda, what do you mean? What happened today?”

“The minute I landed, Lily drove me around the entire city without a break. Did you manipulate a very pregnant woman to keep me busy and away from Y/N for the day?”

“Well, yeah. She was going with Natasha to the gala and I didn’t want you pulling one of your stunts again, not after getting so far along the plan” Darcy bites back.

“Great, so I crashed her date with Natasha with a woman giving birth. What a loser” Wanda massages her temples.

“Did you just say Lily was givig birth?” Laura says. “Oh, my God! Do you think it was my fault?”

“That’s a possibility, I’m not gonna lie to you” Darcy admits, taking the phone back. “Listen. Work it out with Y/N. Talk, fight, have angry sex, whatever it takes. I need my friend back, and you better grovel on the floor to beg for her forgiveness”

“I want to speak to my mother. Privately” Wanda ignores Darcy, knowing who’s really behind all of this.

“Hello, malyshka” Ekaterina greets, removing the speaker and walking away from Wanda’s kitchen, into the living room. Darcy and Laura put their ears against the door, trying to listen.

Pietro just laughs, shaking his head.

“Mama, you had no right…”

“Wanda? Lily’s in a room now” you call for her.

“This conversation isn’t over” she warns her mother, hanging up. “You wouldn’t believe what I just learned…”

Wanda’s looking down at her phone as she walks towards you, that adorable frown that she makes whenever something upsets her.

She keeps talking, but you’re looking at her lips, remembering how much you love kissing her.

Wanda notices, and she stops talking, but leans forward.

Her lips are so close, and then you hear the worst sound in the world.

“Doctor Y/L/N, your patient is… oooh”

To your missfortune, Ed interrupts you in that precise moment.

Of all people, it had to be the circus clown.

“Get lost, will ya?”

Wanda slaps your arm, but she has no idea how annoying the kid can be.

“She was asking for a Wanda, which I believe might be you…” he points to her.

“Come on” you guide her to Lily’s room. As you walk next to Wanda, you place your hands in your pockets, trying to hold back on reaching out to touch her.

You have no idea why she’s here, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter, does it? It was all said and done between you two. If you kiss her, you’ll go back to square one.

“Hey!” Lily greets as soon as you open the door for Wanda. There’s another woman standing next to the bed. She has short, grey hair and a kind smile.

“Wanda! Thank you so much for being there for Lily. I told her she should have been on maternity leave sooner”

“I wanted to find you the perfect artist” Lily sighs, adjusting herself on the bed.

“Doctor, thank you so much for helping Lily” the woman says. You have no idea what’s going on, or why she’s so happy to talk to Wanda.

What you do know is that it’s none of your business.

“Just doing my job. OBGYN will take it from here, as it looks like you’ll have to wait a bit before you’re ready to give birth”

“Your boyfriend’s on the way, right?” the woman asks Lily, and she nods. “We’ll keep you company for a bit, and once he’s here, we could go get something to eat. What do you think, Wanda?”

“Oh, I was…”

But when Wanda looks back, you’re already closing the door.

“Everything ok?” Wendy insists.

“Yeah, everything’s fine”

—

Wanda got the job.

It was hers.

Wendy Lawson was way cooler in person, and didn’t have a problem when Wanda was only half present during their conversation over dinner.

She thought the younger woman was just tired.

And now, back in her room, Wanda finally gets to rest and shower. You’re all she can think about.

It’s one thing to see you in an Instagram post, and another one to be right in front of you.

You seem healthy and happy. Even fitter, your hair longer and a bit of a stronger built. You must spend a lot of time at the gym.

But it’s you, the same smile, those kind eyes and the quiet confidence while you treat patients.

Honestly, Wanda’s very disappointed with herself. She was hoping to have a big speech ready, explain why she was in Boston. Grovel and beg for forgiveness, just like Darcy said.

All she got was an ambulance ride and a quick conversation in a hospital hallway.

As she wears one of your hoodies, and changes into a pair of yoga pants, her phone rings.

“I believe we have a pending conversation” her mother says. She’s not afraid of confrontation, never has been.

“Mama, this is my life. You have no right to…”

“Did I tell you I almost didn’t marry your father?” Ekaterina interrupts her daughter. Wanda stays silent, and the woman takes that as a sign to continue. “Your uncle Arvydas told me about a chance to move to England, work as a nanny for an embassador. I’d rather stay in Sokovia and be with your father, but everyone was telling me what to do or what was better for me. And you know what your father said?”

“No”

“He said I want to marry you. I’ll be at the church on the day we planned and I’ll be waiting. The life with you is the one I want. Now you make a choice, but be sure it’s the one you want for yourself, not what others are telling you to do. And whatever that choice is, I will respect it”

“Yeah, that sounds like something Papa would say”

“My darling, you need to follow your heart. At least get some closure if this is really over. But if she’s really the one you want… fight for her”

“I don’t even know where to begin” Wanda sighs.

“Just find her, the rest will come along”

“Give the boys a kiss for me?”

“One for each” her mother promises, hanging up.

It’s not too late, as Wanda saw some people still at the salon.

She walks out of her room, straight to where the gala is happening.

“Excuse me, could I see your invitation?” a man stops her.

“Oh, I… I don’t have any. I just need to talk to someone inside. It will only take a minute”

“I’m afraid I can’t let you…”

“It’s alright” Natasha says, appearing behind Wanda. “She can come inside, I know her”

The man at the door nods, allowing Wanda to pass.

“She’s over there” Natasha points at you, leaning against the bar and drinking from a glass full of whisky. “Will regret those last few drinks tomorrow morning”

“Thank you” Wanda says, nodding towards Natasha. She’s still not sure how she feels about you and the Russian working together.

But it’s none of her business what you do with other people.

“Hey, Y/N”

You do a doble take, wondering if you’re way too drunk and imagining Wanda’s in front of you.

“Hey, hi. How’s Lily?”

“Good. Her boyfriend was there, they were calling family. Preparing for everything”

“Sounds nice”

“Could we talk?” Wanda asks, before she loses her nerve. “Unless you’re busy”

“No, that’s fine” you down the last of your drink and stand up from the stool. “Let’s go”

Wanda decides it would be nice to get a capuccino from a coffee place nearby. You walk with her, noticing she is definitely not wearing the appropriate coat for this weather.

“Here” you offer yours.

“No, I don’t want you getting sick”

“It’s to protect my hoodie, obviously” you joke and she finally accepts it.

“Remember Wendy Lawson?” Wanda asks.

“The author? Yes, the one who went to give a talk to your school and make you consider writing for the first time”

Of course you remember.

“Well, it’s the woman that was standing right there in the middle of Lily’s room. And she offered me a job to illustrate her new book”

“Hey, that’s huge, congratulations” you say as you open the door to the coffee shop, noticing how warmer and nicer it is inside. You order a hot cocoa, while Wanda gets her own coffee.

“I’ll just have to travel back and forth for a bit”

“But the kids…”

“My mother is in town” Wanda clarifies. There’s so much to tell you, but you’re here, walking next to her, offering your coat and smiling at Wanda. Everything’s a mess in her head.

“So that’s why you are not in town” you joke. “I do hope things are better between you two”

“Well, it’s been a whole thing. But listen, that job is not the only reason I came to Boston” Wanda admits once you’re walking back to the hotel. “I wanted to speak to you”

“Oh, right” you say, scared that she’s here to hand over your stuff and make sure you never have to see each other again.

“Y/N, this last month has been… so bad for me. I can’t stop thinking about you, about those horrible things I said. About how I punished you beyond reason for something that wasn’t your fault. I was angry and instead of processing it, I let it out in childish ways to hurt you. Because I thought it was a way to get even”

“Wanda, you weren’t the only one that screwed up. I didn’t set boundaries with Nat. And then made you feel insane when you pointed it out” you sigh, looking at your feet. “I don’t know. Maybe we should have given this a bit of a break after that, instead of rushing back to the same routine, pretending nothing hapened”

“Well, now we had a break. An entire month to think about it, and I thought about it, even when I tried not to. Y/N, I love you. And I want… I want our future together”

You sigh, thinking about it.

Isn’t this exactly what you wanted? Getting Wanda back.

But you made the same mistake last time. You simply said you were sorry and jumped back in.

“Do you ever think we rushed things?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean we kinda started dating, and I spent every moment in your house because I lived across the street. And then coparenting. I love the kids but I hate myself for hurting them when we broke up”

“So…” Wanda stops outside the hotel, looking at you. She can’t read you right now; all the things you said so far make sense, but they could be arguments to either work on your relationship or call it quits.

“So… let’s date. For a bit” you decide. “Because if we go back to how everything was, and the twins get their hopes up…”

If I get my hopes up.

“That makes sense” Wanda nods.

“But there’s one thing you should know. I work with Natasha and live in the same building as her. I’m not saying we’re best friends or spend every moment together, but we’re in the same room a lot of times”

“I get it. And I appreciate the heads up”

“Alright then. Let's take it slow, then” you nod, walking towards her. “You should head back inside and get some rest”

“What about you?”

“I’ll take a cab home”

“My room’s big enough…”

You interrupt Wanda with a small laugh, walking so close that your lips are inches apart.

“I said slow, Miss Maximoff”

“Since when are you immune to my puppy eyes?” Wanda huffs, crossing her arms.

“I’m not” you shake your head. "Which is why you should really go inside. Now”

Wanda’s eyes travel to your lips and you lean forward, until… you kiss the corner of her mouth.

“Trust me, it will be worth the wait” you smile against her temple.

“Goodnight, Y/N”

“Night, Wands”

[wvyik]

wrapped in ya’ d.w. ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

dean winchester x fem! reader

summary; after a hunt, you slip into dean’s flannel, but when he sees you in it, the heat between you two ignites, and it quickly turns into something much more tempting.

warnings; mdni! smut, explicit content, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, steamy chemistry, oral sex, (both receiving) unprotected fun, fingering, heavy praise kink, use of pet names, light breeding kink (👀), dirty talk, safe word check-in, long ass descriptions, porn with some plot? pre-established relationship, flannel fueled chaos, too much heat— someone call the fire department.

notes; hiya lovelies!! okay so.. this one gets spicy real fast. gawd i feel so shy about posting smut bahaha. but i tried my best. i need some tips (pun intended) though! i adore reading ur comments guys, seriously. thank you so much for the support! <3

words; 5128

The night had been long, the hunt brutal, but now, back in the bunker, the weight of exhaustion had settled into your bones. But there was one thing that made everything a little better — Dean’s flannel, slung over the back of the couch. You didn’t think twice before pulling it on, the soft fabric engulfing you, his scent instantly wrapping around you.

You had a second of peace, just standing there, breathing him in, when you heard the unmistakable sound of Dean’s boots behind you. You turned slowly to see him standing in the doorway, eyes dark, smirk curling on his lips.

“Really?” His voice was thick with amusement, but there was a layer of something else beneath it, something hungry. “Stealing my clothes now, huh?”

You shrugged, crossing your arms over your chest, the oversized flannel making you feel like you were drowning in it— but it felt damn good. “It’s comfy,” you said, teasing him, but the heat in your gaze was unmistakable.

Dean’s eyes scanned you slowly, taking in every inch of the way the flannel hung off your body. He stepped forward, the air between you crackling with tension. “Comfy?” he repeated, voice dripping with sarcasm, but his eyes were anything but joking. “You look fucking irresistible in it.”

You bit your lip, feeling the heat rush through your veins at his words. You could feel the tension building between you, that magnetic pull you couldn’t fight.

“You gonna keep stealing my shirts now, sweetheart?” Dean said, his voice rough, low, sending shivers down your spine as his hand reached out to trail down your arm. “Or do I get to make you forget about it?”

You swallowed hard, looking up at him. “Maybe I like it. Maybe I like you seeing me in your clothes.”

Dean smirked, and before you could blink, he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you in so close that you could feel the heat of his body against yours. His lips were on yours before you could even react, hard and demanding. His hands slid under the flannel, grazing your skin, his fingers burning a trail up your sides.

You gasped into the kiss when his hands slid lower, cupping you through the fabric of your jeans, the heat between you two growing unbearable. His mouth moved to your neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses as his hands began to work the buttons of your jeans.

“Dean,” you moaned softly, your hands pulling at his shirt, desperate for more contact, for more of him.

“Don’t say my name like that,” he muttered against your skin, his breath ragged. “You want me to fuck you right here, in my clothes?”

You felt your body tremble at the thought. His words, the way he was looking at you like he couldn’t wait to strip everything away, made you ache.

“Please,” you whispered, fingers tugging at his belt.

Dean growled, his hands gripping your hips as he lifted you effortlessly, pushing you up against the nearby wall, your legs wrapping around his waist. His mouth claimed yours again, with an unrelenting pace.

His eyes darkened, lips brushing against yours, "You're so damn perfect. You know that?"

You shivered at his words, the combination of his raw, dominant tone and the sweetness of his compliments sending a rush of heat through your body.

"De.." you murmured, hands slipping beneath his shirt to explore the muscles of his back, skin burning with every touch. "I need you so bad, please,"

Your touch sent a jolt of desire coursing through his veins, his breathing growing heavy as he ground against you, the hard length of him pressing against your hip, the friction driving him wild.

"You feel that?" he asked, his voice rough, "That's what you do to me, sweetheart."

You gasped softly, feeling the evidence of his arousal straining against his jeans, your body responding involuntarily, arching against him in search of more of that delicious friction.

"Bed?" you managed, the word barely a whisper. "Need you in a bed, not against a wall.."

The corners of his lips curled into a smirk at your desperate plea. He wanted you too, craved you like the air he breathed, but he loved teasing you, pushing you to the brink before giving in.

"Not yet," he murmured, his grip on you unrelenting. "We're not finished here."

He dipped his head, his mouth trailing a path down your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin, his hands roaming over your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

You writhed under his touch, your body alive with sensation, every nerve ending singing. "Dean, please," you whimpered, fingers clutching at his shoulders.

He savored the sound of your breathy pleas, relishing in the way you came undone beneath his touch. "I know, baby.. Love hearing you beg for me like that," he whispered against your skin, his voice roughened by arousal. “Enough of that, though. Get on your fuckin’ knees.”

Your knees almost gave way at the command, a sharp gasp slipping through your lips. "De—," you protested weakly, but there was no real resistance, just a trembling anticipation.

"Do as I say," he insisted, his grip unyielding as he guided you to the floor, your knees hitting the carpet with a soft thud. He stood above you, his eyes burning with intensity as you knelt before him, your face level with the obvious bulge in his jeans.

"Take my belt off," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your hands trembled as you reached for his leather belt, your fingertips brushing against the cool metal of the buckle. It took you a few attempts to undo it, your fingers clumsy with desire.

Once the belt was undone, he caught your wrist, his grip firm as he guided your hand to the zipper of his jeans. "Keep going, sweetheart."

Your heart was hammering in your chest as you unzipped his jeans, the sound of the zipper loud in the otherwise silent room, your fingertips brushing against the fabric of his boxers.

"Now... pull them down, slowly." His words were a command, a challenge, but beneath the dominance, there was an underlying tenderness, a hint of vulnerability that only showed itself in moments like these.

You obeyed, your hands reaching for the waistband of his jeans, fingers trembling with anticipation as you shimmied them down his hips. The material was rough against your hands, and the sound of denim sliding over his muscular thighs sent a shiver down your spine.

He stepped out of his jeans, leaving him in nothing but a pair of black boxers, the fabric strained by his arousal. He looked down at you, his eyes roving over your body, taking in the way you knelt before him, soft and submissive, ready to do whatever he asked.

He reached down, cupping your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His thumb traced your lower lip, his touch tender despite the commanding tone of his voice.

"You trust me, sweetheart?" he asked, his eyes searching yours, a hint of vulnerability in his expression.

"Yes," you whispered, the word escaping your lips without hesitation. You did trust him, implicitly. He had seen you at your most vulnerable, your darkest moments, and he had never once taken advantage of it. Instead, he had been your pillar of strength, your protector, your safe harbor in the storm.

His thumb continued tracing your lip, a gentle smile curving his mouth at your response. "Good girl," he murmured, the praise sending a jolt of desire through you, his approval filling you with warmth. “Now, open that pretty lil’ mouth for me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the simple command igniting a fire within you. Without hesitation, you parted your lips, your eyes locked on his as you waited for his next command.

His thumb slipped past your parted lips, tracing the outline of your tongue. “Suck it,” he demanded, his voice low and sensual.

You obeyed without hesitation, your tongue swirling around his thumb as you sucked it into your mouth. The action was both submissive and rebellious, your eyes defiant even as you yielded to his command.

Dean groaned, his eyes darkening as he watched you. "That's it," he said, his thumb withdrawing from your mouth with a wet pop. "Look so good on your knees for me, baby."

He threaded his fingers into your hair, his grip firm as he angled your head to look up at him. His eyes bore into yours, his expression a mix of tenderness and dominance.

"You know what I want, don't you?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You nodded, a wordless affirmation that you understood exactly what he was asking for. Your lips were parted, your breath coming in heavy pants, your body already trembling in anticipation.

He ran his hand over your hair, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the rough command. "Go on then, touch me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your hand trembled as you reached for him, your palm sliding over the rough cotton of his boxers, feeling the heat and hardness beneath. Your touch was tentative at first, but as you heard him draw in a sharp breath, your confidence began to grow.

His hand tensed in your hair as your touch grew bolder, your fingers tracing the outline of his arousal through the fabric. "Mmm... that's it," he murmured, his voice thick with pleasure, "Just like that, sweetheart."

Your hand cupped him more firmly, massaging him through the fabric until he was practically vibrating with need. "F-fuck... you're so good for me, aren't you darling?"

Your response was a strangled moan, your body responding to his praise like a flame to gasoline. You were on fire, consumed by a desperate need for him, the ache between your thighs growing with every passing moment. "Please," you gasped, looking up at him, your lips parted, your cheeks flushed. "Dean, please... I need you."

His jaw clenched at the view of you. It was a sight that never failed to get him going, his control almost at its limit. "Yeah? You need me that bad, huh?" he teased, his fingers tangling more tightly in your hair.

You nodded, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. "Yes," you breathed, your hand still massaging him through the fabric. "So bad, Dean. I need you. Please."

The desperate plea in your tone and the way you were touching him pushed him to the edge. He was already struggling to hold back, and the sight of you on your knees, begging for him, was almost too much.

"Then take what you want," he commanded, his voice a hoarse rasp, "Cmon, angel.. you know what to do."

Without hesitation, you reached for the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down with a swift motion, freeing him from the last barrier of fabric. You swallowed hard as you took him in, your hand wrapping around him, the weight and heat of him feeling like the missing piece to a puzzle you hadn't known was incomplete.

He let out a guttural groan as you touched him, your grip firm and sure, almost worshipful. "Fuck.. just like that, sweetheart," he gasped, his eyes closing for a fraction of second before refocusing on you, watching your every move. "You know how to drive me crazy.."

The praise from him sent a shiver down your spine, your body arching towards his, your hand moving in a steady rhythm. You loved the way you could make him lose control, the way he looked at you now, completely undone by your touch.

"Yeah, just like that.. just keep touching me, babe," he whispered, his hand tightening in your hair again, guiding your mouth towards him. "I need you, sweetheart. I need-"

You didn't hesitate, your tongue darting out to taste him, the saltiness of his skin making your head spin. He groaned, his breath hitching as he watched you, his grip on your hair becoming almost painful. "You're perfect.. so damn perfect..," he murmured, his words interspersed with ragged breaths. "Just like that.. don't stop, sweetheart.. please don't stop.."

You quickened your pace, your tongue swirling and tasting, desperate to drive him over the edge. You wanted to give him everything he needed, to show him just how much you wanted him.

"Oh, I'm close... keep goin.." he gasped, his hips canting forward automatically, seeking more of the pleasure you were giving him. "Just a little bit more, sweetheart.. you're so good.. so perfect.. I'm gonna-"

You knew he was close, you could feel it in the way his body tensed, the way his breath came in ragged gasps. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his gaze, and that was it.

His release was sudden, his body shaking with the intensity of it, a hoarse cry passing his lips. He held on to you tightly, the grip on your hair probably painful, but you didn't care. You loved seeing him lose control, the way his face showed every emotion, the way he let himself be vulnerable around you.

He panted heavily, his chest rising and falling, his eyes dark and satisfied as he looked down at you. "Goddamn, sweetheart," he muttered, his voice still thick with arousal. “Think you—fuck—think you might need a reward for that, huh?”

A mixture of pride and exhaustion filled you as he spoke. You were trembling, your body almost as spent as his from the intensity of your actions. But the thought of a reward made your eyes gleam. "A-a reward?.." you asked, the word almost a purr.

He chuckled, the sound deep and rough. "Yeah, sweetheart, a reward," he confirmed, his hand moving from your hair to your face, his thumb tracing the lines of your face. "You did so good.. you deserve something special."

His touch was gentle, tender even, a stark contrast to the dominating way he had been moments ago. It always surprised you how he could switch between the two, one moment being demanding, the next tender. But that was just who he was. A man of contrasts.

Dean helped you up, steadying you on your shaky legs before leading you over to the bed. He sat you down on the edge, pulling you onto your back, your legs in between him. He held you close, his arms wrapping around you with a possessiveness that was both comforting and arousing.

He kissed you, slow and deep, his tongue moving against yours, tasting and exploring. It was a gentle, almost loving kind of kiss, one that belied the intensity of the moment. He pulled away after a few seconds, his gaze roaming over your body hungrily.

"I could ravish you right now," he murmured, his hand roaming over your body, "But I don't want to rush this.. I want to take my time with you, baby. I want to make you feel as good as you made me feel."

Your breath hitched at his words, anticipation building in your chest. You knew he meant every word, and the thought of what was to come made your body tingle. "I want that too," you whispered, your hands coming up to toy with his hair. "I want you, Dean. All of you…"

He smiled at your words, his fingers tracing patterns over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps. "And you'll have me, sweetheart," he promised, his tone confident. "Every part of me.. yours to do with as you please."

He leaned down, pressing a trail of kisses down your neck, his stubble scraping against your skin. Each touch was slow and deliberate, as if he was mapping out every inch of you. His hand slid up your side, his fingers playing lightly at the hem of your shirt before tugging it up, slowly baring more of your flesh to him.

He pulled the shirt over your head, tossing it aside before leaning back to look at you. He took his time, his eyes roaming over your body, drinking in every detail. "So damn gorgeous," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "I never get tired of looking at you."

His hands began to wander again, exploring territory that was both familiar and exciting. He traced your collarbone, his thumb gently brushing over the sensitive area, before moving down to your breasts. His touch was light, teasing, his eyes fixated on your face to gauge your reaction.

You gasped as his thumb brushed over your nipples, the fabric of your bra the only barrier between you. He smirked, noticing your reaction, and did it again, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through you. "Mmm... so sensitive already." he murmured, his voice low and teasing. He let his fingers go down your back, undoing your bra with skill.

Your breathing hitched, your body arching involuntarily under his touch. His words, combined with the sensations he was eliciting in you, were almost too much to handle. "Dean.. please.." you gasped, your body craving more of his touch, more of him.

He smirked at your plea, his hand tracing down over your stomach, stopping just above the waistband of your shorts. "What do you want, darlin’? Use your words," he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You swallowed hard, your mind fuzzy with desire. "More.." you managed to gasp out, your hips lifting slightly in a desperate attempt to get more of the contact you craved. "Please, more.. I need more.."

He chuckled at your desperate tone, amused and turned on by the effect he had on you. "Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" he murmured, his fingers still teasing at the edge of your shorts. "I love how impatient you get for me, sweetheart.. it's almost endearing."

He leaned down again, his mouth finding a sensitive spot on your neck, his teeth nipping gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. His hand was more demanding now, his fingers slipping down the fabric of your shorts, now dancing along the edge of your underwear.

Your body was on fire, your skin overly sensitive to every touch and kiss. You whimpered, your thighs clenching as his hand continued to tease you. "Please.. I can't take much more of this," you gasped, your hands gripping at the sheets beneath you.

"You can take it," he murmured, his mouth trailing down to your chest, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. "I know you can, sweetheart. And don't worry, you'll get everything you want in just a minute.. if you behave."

You knew exactly what he meant by behaving. You'd be obeying him tonight, and he was reminding you of that fact. You shivered beneath him, the anticipation building. "I'll be good," you promised, your voice almost a whine. "I'll be so good for you, just.. please, Dean."

His hand moved lower, his fingers slipping beneath the fabric of your underwear, teasing the sensitive flesh there. "Fuck," he murmured, his eyes glued to your face. "So wet for me. You got that wet just by sucking my cock?.."

You couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips, the sound almost embarrassing in its neediness. "Yes," you admitted, "Just from that. Just from you."

He groaned in approval, his fingers moving gently over you. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmured, "That's my good girl. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

You nodded, your body shaking as his touch became more demanding. "I—I just wanted to make you feel good," you managed to gasp out, your hips lifting slightly in time with his movements.

"Oh, you did," he murmured, his voice rough with arousal. "You made me feel so good, sweetheart. But now it's my turn to return the favor..."

His mouth moved down your body, his teeth scraping against your skin, his tongue trailing a wet path towards your thighs. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire, a smirk on his lips. "You want me to take care of you, sweetheart? Want me to taste you like you tasted me?"

You nodded fervently, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts. "Yes," you gasped, the word almost a sob. "Please, please, I need you, Dean."

He chuckled, the sound low and dark. "That's what I wanted to hear," he murmured, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading you open before him. "Just relax, princess. I'm gonna make you feel so damn good."

His tongue was hot on you, his touch firm and sure. He tasted and teased, his mouth working you into a frenzy. It was almost overwhelming, the way he knew all your sensitive spots, the way he knew exactly how to touch you to drive you wild. You writhed beneath him, his finger curled up in you.

"So damn sensitive.." he murmured, his mouth moving against you, his words sending vibrations through your body. "You're so damn reactive to everything I do to you, sweetness.. it's so goddamn hot.. I could do this all night.. I could do this until you're a shaking, sobbing mess beneath me.. begging me for more..."

You were close, your body tensing, the coil inside you ready to snap. "Dean-please—" you gasped, your back arching off the bed, "I'm--oh God, I'm so close-just-just a little bit more—"

His tongue flicked over you, his pace picking up, his fingers digging into your thighs. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmured, "Cum for me. I want to hear you say my name, I want to feel you let go for me.."

And with his last words, you shattered, crying out his name as pleasure crested over you. You shook, your body arching, your hands gripping the sheets tightly. The intensity of it was mind numbing, the sensation washing over you.

He didn't stop, his mouth working you through it, prolonging the sensation. You moaned, your body trembling, your senses overwhelmed. It was too much, yet somehow not enough. You clutched at him, your hands running through his hair, needing something to ground you.

Finally, he pulled away, his mouth trailing kisses up your body as he moved back up to your face. He looked at you, his eyes dark, his expression satisfied. "You're incredible, baby," he murmured, kissing you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

You tasted yourself on his lips, the realization making you shiver. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, your body still humming with aftershocks of pleasure. "That was.. that was amazing," you managed to gasp out, your voice hoarse from screaming his name.

He smirked at that, his ego clearly boosted by your words. "Damn right, it was," he said, pride evident in his tone. He ran a hand through your hair, his touch surprisingly tender. "And we're far from done."

Your eyes widened at his words. Far from done? You weren't sure you would be able to handle much more, but the heat in his gaze told you that you didn't have a choice. You swallowed hard, your body already responding to his touch.

He chuckled at your expression, his hand rubbing small circles on your thigh. "You look like a deer caught in headlights, sweetheart," he teased, his smirk growing. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you. I just need you to do one thing for me."

You nodded, your body already responding to his command. "Anything," you replied breathless.

He leaned in, his mouth close to your ear, his tone dropping. "Beg for me, doll. I want you to beg me to fuck you."

Your cheeks flushed, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. "Please," you whispered, your eyes meeting his. "Please, Dean, I need you to—" you stopped, the words almost stuck in your throat.

He chuckled, his hand moving lower, his touch teasing. "Come on, sweetheart, you can do better than that," he encouraged, his eyes dark and demanding. "I know you want it. I know you want me. Just let yourself say it. Beg for it."

You felt a thrill run through you, the combination of his words and his touch pushing you over the edge. "Please," you whispered, "Please Dean, please - I need you. I need you inside me. I need you to take me, to make me yours. Please, please, please just��just—" you couldn't finish, your words strangled by your own need

His lips crushed yours, silencing your words with a bruising kiss. "That's what I wanted to hear, pretty girl," he murmured against your mouth, "Fucking hell, you know how to get me worked up."

He pulled back, his eyes roaming over your body, his expression hungry. "Now, let's see how much more you can take."

With that, he steadied himself against you, slowly teasing his hard arousal against your wetness. You gasped, the sudden movement catching you off guard.

"You good, sweetheart?" he murmured, his voice low. "Color check."

You took a deep breath, your mind still fuzzy with desire. "Green," you managed to gasp, your body begging for more.

He smiled, satisfied with your answer. "Good girl," he said, his hands gripping your thighs, he lifted your legs up over his shoulders. "Just relax, angel. I'm gonna take good care of you."

He leaned down, his mouth finding a sensitive spot on your neck. As he sucked and nipped at the skin there, slowly, agonizingly slow he pushed into you. Your head fell back against the bed, a low moan escaping your lips.

You could feel every inch, your body stretching and adjusting to him. He filled you completely, the friction sending sparks of pleasure down your spine. You gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. "Dean, please..," you whimpered.

"Please what, sweetheart?" He murmured against your skin, his voice hoarse with need. "You know you have to use your words."

"Move," you gasped, your body shaking with need. "Please, just.. just move. I need you to move."

He chuckled, the sound a mix of amusement and arousal. "Bossy, are we?" he teased. But there was a hint of satisfaction in his tone. He pulled back slightly, before slowly pushing back in. "Like this, baby?"

You gasped, your back arching against the sheets. "Yes," you managed to gasp, "Just like that, yes. Please, more."

He set a steady rhythm, his movements deep and sure. He knew exactly how to touch you, where to touch you, which spots made you shudder, which made you moan. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh. "So damn tight," he groaned, his breath ragged. "You feel so fuckin’ amazing.”

His words, combined with the sensations he was eliciting, were almost too much. You were quickly unraveling beneath him, your body aflame with pleasure. You pulled him closer, your hands tangling in his hair, needing something to ground you.

"Look at you, sweetheart," he murmured, his mouth finding your ear. "You're so damn perfect like this. All needy and desperate for me."

His words sent a thrill down your spine, his tone filled with hunger. You could feel him everywhere, his body pressed against yours, his scent surrounding you. It was all too much and not enough. "Don't stop," you gasped, "Don't-ah - don't stop, please, f-faster."

He groaned at your words, his movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. He was losing control, his grip on you tightening. "You— you feel so damn good," he gasped, his forehead resting on your shoulder. "I'm not gonna last much longer angel, you're driving me insane."

You were close, the coils inside you about to snap. You needed more, you needed it to last just a bit longer, even though you didn't know if you could take it. But Dean knew what you needed, he was always so in sync with your body.

"Cum for me one more time sweetheart," he murmured in your ear, his voice rough and commanding. "I want to feel you come all over me. I want to hear you say my name. Just let go for me, my beautiful girl."

And with his words, you were lost, your body seizing as pleasure washed over you. You gasped, your hands clutching at him, his name a strangled cry.

Dean felt you tighten around him, and it was too much, he bit down on your shoulder, his own release hitting him like a wave. He shuddered, his body tensing, his fingers digging into your flesh. "Fuck," he groaned, his voice hoarse. "Sweetheart, you're gonna make me cum again, ���gonna cum all in you.”

It was then you felt it. He slowed, stilling, his body shaking slightly. He looked at you, his expression a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion. "That.. that was…" he trailed off, his voice slightly raspy.

The room is still thick with heat, your body boneless against the mattress, breath coming in slow, uneven pulls. The last echoes of your moans still hang in the air, mixing with Dean’s heavy exhales as he finally— finally—collapses beside you.

For a moment, neither of you move. His arm is still hooked around your waist, his grip loose now, but his fingers are still there, brushing over your skin like he’s making sure you’re real. Like he’s not ready to let you go yet.

Then, in that low, raspy voice that makes your stomach flip, he murmurs, “You good, babe?”

You make a sound— half a hum, half a sigh— and barely manage to nod. That seems to be enough for him. He chuckles, voice still rough around the edges, and leans in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your temple. “Yeah, I gotcha. Just breathe for me, baby.”

His hands move without thinking, smoothing over your back, tracing lazy circles into your skin, as if mapping out every place he touched, every mark he left. When his fingers ghost over a spot he might’ve grabbed too hard, he tuts under his breath. “Shit, hope I didn’t go too hard on you.” His lips follow where his hands were, warm and soft against your shoulder. “Might owe you a damn back rub after that one.”

Eventually, he grumbles and pulls away— just for a second—to grab the water bottle from the nightstand. He presses it into your hand, watching you with that lazy, smitten smile as you take a few slow sips. “There we go,” he murmurs, brushing a few damp strands of hair from your face.

And then, without another word, he tugs you against his chest, settling you into the warmth of his body like you belong there. Like he needs you there.

His breath is warm against your hair as he mumbles, half-asleep already, “M’not moving. You’re stuck with me, sweetheart.”

So much for stealing a fucking flannel.

taglist; @lieutenantchaos @bejeweledinterludes ⊹ ࣪ ˖

⤿ wanna be tagged in my fics?.. don't be shy! @ taglist.

tysm for reading! more works incoming @ library. ⊹₊⟡⋆

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hey babes. Could I please request some dad!Max, where he is super protective an he finds out his daughter is at a party and there are a lot of weird guys and he gets pissed. Daughter is like 16 or 17. Thank you

Always his little girl

Max stepped into the house, letting out a deep sigh as he dropped his bag by the door. It had been a long, exhausting race weekend, and all he wanted now was to be home with his family. The comforting warmth of the house instantly eased some of his tension, and when Kelly appeared in the hallway, her smile making his heart flutter like it always did, he felt a bit more at peace.

"Welcome home, love," Kelly murmured before standing on her toes to press a soft kiss to his lips.

Max hummed in satisfaction, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close for a moment before he reluctantly pulled away. "Missed you," he admitted, brushing his nose against hers.

She chuckled. "We missed you too. P's already asleep—she was out like a light after dinner."

Max smiled, feeling his heart swell at the thought of his little girl sleeping peacefully in her bed. But then he frowned slightly, realizing someone was missing. "Where's Yn?"

Kelly hesitated for a second, but then casually said, "She's at a party with some of her friends."

Max's brows instantly furrowed. "A party? At this hour?"

Kelly sighed, already sensing where this was going. "It's a small get-together. Just some of her girlfriends hanging out."

Max narrowed his eyes. "Just girls?"

Kelly pursed her lips. "Well… some of the boys from her class are there too."

Max groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Kelly, you know I don't like the boys from her class. They're all weird."

Kelly crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "They’re teenagers, Max. Yn is a teenager. And she deserves to go out and have fun."

Max shook his head, already feeling an itch under his skin. "I don't like it. We should've said no. She’s sixteen, Kelly. Sixteen! And those boys—"

"Are just boys," Kelly finished for him. "Not criminals. And it's not like she's alone with them. Her friends are there. She knows how to handle herself."

Max still looked unconvinced. "I should go pick her up."

Kelly immediately placed a hand on his chest, stopping him before he could even think about grabbing his keys. "No, Max. One of her friend's moms is driving them all home. She’ll be fine."

Max let out a heavy sigh, clearly frustrated, but he knew arguing with Kelly was pointless. She was always the more reasonable one, the one who knew when to let go a little, while he was… well, Max. Overprotective, easily worried, and completely wrapped around both of his daughters' fingers.

"I don't like it," he muttered.

Kelly smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek. "I know. But you have to let her grow up."

Max grumbled under his breath but didn't push it further. Still, he couldn't fully relax, his body on edge as he sat on the couch, his eyes flicking to the clock every few minutes. Kelly eventually sighed and suggested, "Why don’t you go to bed? I’ll wait for her."

Max shot her an incredulous look. "Yeah, right. Like I’m gonna sleep when my daughter is out with those… those… weird wankers."

Kelly chuckled but wisely chose not to argue. She simply curled up next to him, scrolling through her phone while Max sat stiffly, arms crossed, eyes locked on the time.

It felt like forever, but finally, when the clock struck 1 AM, the sound of the front door unlocking sent Max shooting to his feet.

Yn stepped in, her cheeks slightly flushed from the chilly night air, her long hair slightly messy from dancing. She blinked in surprise at her father standing there, his expression unreadable.

"Uh… hi?" she said hesitantly.

Max was already stepping forward, pulling her into a tight hug before she could react. "You're late," he muttered into her hair.

Yn huffed. "Dad, it's literally one minute past."

"Still late," Max countered, finally pulling back to inspect her. "You're okay? No one bothered you? No weird boys?"

Yn rolled her eyes. "No, Dad. The only weird boy bothering me is you."

Max sighed in relief but still reached for the blanket on the couch and wrapped it around her. "You must be cold. Here, sit down. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Did you drink anything weird?"

Kelly, watching from the couch, covered her mouth to stifle her laughter.

Yn flopped onto the couch, grinning at her dad’s fussing. "No, Dad. But I did hear some gossip. You wanna hear?"

Max, despite himself, sat beside her, his protective instincts warring with his curiosity. "Fine. Tell me."

Yn smirked, knowing she had him hooked. "Okay, so Emma and Jake totally had a thing going on, but then Jake started flirting with Ava, and Emma was NOT having it. So she threw a drink at him."

Max’s eyes widened. "She threw a drink at him?"

"Yeah! Right in his face! And then Ava was like, ‘Oh my god, Emma, what is your problem?’ and Emma was like, ‘My problem is that he’s a two-timing jerk!’"

Max gasped. "She did not!"

Yn nodded eagerly. "She so did! It was crazy!"

Kelly shook her head, still laughing softly as she got up. "I’ll leave you two gossip queens alone. I’m going to bed."

Max barely acknowledged her, too engrossed in Yn’s dramatic storytelling. "And then what happened?"

Yn continued, animatedly recounting every detail, while Max listened intently, occasionally shaking his head in disapproval or muttering about how all teenage boys were ridiculous. Eventually, though, Yn yawned, and Max instantly stood up. "Okay, time for bed."

Yn groaned. "I can put myself to bed, Dad. I’m sixteen."

Max ignored her, gently pulling her up and guiding her to her room. "Uh-huh, sure you can."

Yn sighed but didn’t protest further as she climbed into bed. Max sat beside her, grabbing her brush and starting to braid her hair, his fingers moving carefully.

"You don’t have to do this," she murmured sleepily.

"I know," Max said softly, securing the braid. "But I want to."

Yn smiled, snuggling under the blanket as Max tucked her in. "Night, Dad."

Max kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, liefje."

As he switched off the light and left the room, he found Kelly leaning against the hallway wall, smiling at him. "You’re such a softie."

Max huffed. "She’s still my little girl."

Kelly chuckled, wrapping an arm around his waist as they walked to their own bedroom. "I know. And she always will be."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: I hope you enjoyed this piece. My requests are open and I'm more than happy to write a new story.

-💙🦋

[allthingswillpass4gnomes]

Mel couldn’t decide what was cuter, Jayce’s abject groveling or Viktor’s abject terror. How lucky she could enjoy both at the moment.

“I really am sorry about your dress Mel.” Jayce picked at his pheasant, doubtless afraid to eat lest he end up talking with his mouth full. “I’d be happy to pay for the cleaning - “

“Oh Jayce, that’s hardly necessary. You’ve apologized enough.” Mel sipped her wine, a dry pinot noir. Such a shame her boys had barely touched their glasses, it paired so well with the rest of the meal. “In fact it gave me some food for thought.” Truthfully it was more that it gave her an excuse to suggest an idea she’d been planning but they didn’t need to know that.

“Oh?”

Mel leaned in, letting her elbow and chest rest on the table. “As Hextech moves forward, you both will be facing more and more public attention. And, for better or worse, external appearances do make a difference. Do you two have a free morning or afternoon where the three of us could go buy some new clothes for the pair of you?”

“Three of us?” Viktor finally looked up from his plate, alarmed.

“Of course.” As expected, Jayce looked intrigued, Viktor apprehensive. “Nothing terribly extravagant of course, just visiting a tailor for initial measurements and fabric choices, then a follow-up a few weeks later for finishing and fitting. I know clothes shopping might seem frivolous to men of science - “

“Not at all!” Jayce, probably eager to make amends, interrupted. “V, I think we could take tomorrow afternoon off to go out, right?”

“Ah - “ Viktor’s eyes darted between her and Jayce. “I - prefer to work behind the scenes, a new suit would be wasted on me.”

“Oh come on V you deserve half the credit for Hextech, you’re gonna be at events with me - “

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea - “

“Why not?”

“Gentlemen,” The two looked to her. “May I suggest a compromise of sorts?”

“Sure.” Jayce glared at Viktor out of the corner of his eye, who sighed and nodded.

“Much as I would love for you to come with me for a new suit, Viktor - ” he looked doubtful about her sincerity, unfortunate but unsurprising - “If you’re unable to get away for an afternoon, perhaps Jayce and I could purchase some things for you in your stead? If you gave us your measurements and any preferences we could order pieces for you to try on at your own leisure.”

“Yes,” Viktor rushed to reply while Jayce was still opening his mouth. “Yes - that would be excellent. Jayce, you still have the measurements we took for my braces correct? Would those suffice Miss Medarda?”

“Please, call me Mel. Do you have them with you at the moment?”

Jayce grumbled, but pulled his journal from his satchel beside him on the floor.

The rest of supper passed amusingly. Much to Jayce’s chagrin his detailed notes on Viktor’s proportions would be more than sufficient for the tailor Mel had picked out, and with the threat of non-Hextech related human interaction minimized Viktor lightened up enough to engage in actual conversation. He still proved diffident about color and cloth choices, but he did join in whenever he thought Jayce’s scientific chatter needed correction, and he seemed pleased by how quickly Mel picked up on their explanations. By the end of the night (and the third bottle of wine) she and Jayce even got Viktor to consider trying the suits on at her apartment when they were finished.

“It’ll be fun, V!” Jayce wrapped his arm yet again around Viktor’s shoulder. “We’ll have a fashion show, the three of us!”

“We’ll make an evening of it,” Mel chimed in. “Dinner and a show, how does that sound?”

Viktor scraped the bottom of his dessert bowl. “Fine.” He licked the remains of his mousse off his spoon. “But only if you make this again.”

Mel led the gentleman to the door, and after an impromptu group hug courtesy of Jayce bid them good night. She watched them amble down the hall, ties loose and hair mussed, until they turned the corner to the elevator and out of sight. A shame, really, that she couldn’t convince Viktor to join her and Jayce for shopping tomorrow. But at least he’d agreed to let her update his wardrobe. She could hardly have the founders of Hextech walking around still looking like Academy students in need of handouts from a patron.

And besides, there was the subsequent dinner and outfit trial to look forward to. An evening of wine, laughter, and two handsome best friends in various states of dress and undress held such interesting possibilities.

Sorry about that, Jayce talking to Viktor about how awesome Mel is

I went with some pre-established Meljayvik 💥

(I hope you can read my handwriting--)

(Instagram)

[spencessocks]

quiet moments

summary: after a tough case, you and spencer share a quiet conversation on a plane ride home.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

word count: 1.3k

the team had just wrapped up a grueling case and were on the jet back to Quantico. everyone was exhausted, including yourself. yet you could never sleep on airplanes, too many variables that made you uncomfortable. you looked around the plane—most of them had dozed off, but spencer was still awake, his knee bouncing as he stared out the window.

you got up, shifting into the seat next to him, setting down your lukewarm coffee.

“you know,” spencer started, his voice slightly rough from lack of sleep, “sleep deprivation can cause symptoms that mimic intoxication. cognitive impairment, slowed reaction times, even—” he paused, blinking sluggishly. "what was i saying?"

you bit back a smile. “something about being drunk without the fun part?”

“right,” he nodded, then yawned, rubbing his eyes. “also, did you know that octopuses have three hearts? two pump blood to the gills, and the third pumps it to the rest of the body. when they swim, that third heart actually stops beating.”

you hummed in response, more focused on the way his head was starting to droop to the side. “that’s fascinating, spence. why are you telling me this now?"

spencer blinked at you, his hazel eyes glassy with exhaustion. “i don’t know,” he admitted, voice quieter now. “i guess… i just don’t like the quiet.”

you gave him a small smile, shifting to get more comfortable. “well, lucky for you, you’re talking to the one person who can’t sleep on planes.”

spencer huffed a soft laugh, but it quickly dissolved into another yawn.

"why aren't you asleep anyway?" you asked, dawning on you that he was usually knocked out on the way back home.

spencer blinked slowly, like he was trying to gather his thoughts but kept losing them along the way. “dunno,” he mumbled, his voice softer now. “i think my brain’s too full.”

you tilted your head. “too full?”

he let out a tired chuckle, rubbing his eyes. “yeah. too many thoughts. case details, statistics, things i could’ve done differently. it’s like… my mind doesn’t know how to shut up.”

you frowned slightly. you knew spencer tended to overanalyze things, especially after a difficult case, but seeing him this exhausted and still unable to let go of it made your heart ache.

you weighed the options of encouraging him to open up or shifting his focus. in the end, you decided it was best to steer his mind away from it, saving the deeper conversation for a later moment.

“well,” you said, looking around, “if it won’t shut up, maybe you don’t have to fight it. maybe you just need to focus on something else.”

spencer let out a quiet huff, his fingers moving to your sleeve, absentmindedly playing with it. “like what?”

you thought for a moment, then shrugged. “like… okay, if you could be anywhere right now—anywhere but here—where would you be?”

spencer blinked, clearly not expecting the question. he glanced toward the window, eyes distant for a second. “florence,” he murmured eventually. “at the biblioteca medicea laurenziana.”

you grinned. “of course your dream getaway is a library.”

spencer's eyebrows bunched up, but there was the faintest hint of a smile there. “it’s not just a library. it was designed by michelangelo. the reading room has these long wooden benches, and the windows let in just enough light to make everything feel… warm.” his voice softened, like he was already picturing it. “it’s quiet, but not in a bad way. the kind of quiet that makes you want to take your time, let yourself get lost in the pages of something.”

you watched him as he spoke, the tension in his face easing just a little. “that actually sounds really nice.”

spencer hummed in agreement, his head tilting slightly against the seat. “where would you be?”

"see now me personally, i would be at home."

spencer blinked, his tired eyes meeting yours. “home?” he echoed, with a bit of disbelief.

you nodded. “yeah. and i totally thought that's what you would say too! not that your fancy library doesn’t sound amazing, but after a case like this? i’d want to be home. my own bed, my own sheets."

spencer considered that for a moment, his fingers absently tracing a pattern against his knee. “i guess that makes sense,” he murmured. “home is… safe.”

you smiled softly. “exactly. we'd be curled up on my couch, wearing something way too comfortable, eating something terrible for us, and watching a show we've already seen a hundred times.”

spencer’s lips quirked, just barely. “which show?”

you thought for a second, then smirked. “something I don’t have to analyze or think about—just background noise while I relax. maybe doctor who.”

spencer hummed in approval, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before he forced them open again. “good choice,” he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. “did you know doctor who holds the guinness world record for the longest-running science-fiction television series?"

you grinned. “yes, spencer. i think that's the 5th time you've mentioned it.

“it’s an important fact,” he defended, but there was no real weight behind his words. his body was slowly giving in to exhaustion, his hands now folded in his lap.

you raised an eyebrow, amused at how determined spencer was to share his random facts, even as his eyelids drooped. "i’m starting to think you’re secretly trying to get me to memorize guinness world records," you teased.

he let out a small, tired chuckle. “well, maybe you’ll need them one day. what if you’re on Jeopardy and the final question is about doctor who?” his voice trailed off, and his eyes flickered closed again, clearly fighting sleep.

you leaned back in your seat, watching him struggle to stay awake. "spence, if I ever end up on Jeopardy, i think i'll have bigger problems than knowing the longest-running sci-fi series."

he blinked slowly, "you never know," he murmured. "it could be... the question." he nudged your shoulder lightly.

you grinned, nudging his shoulder back. "i’ll let you be my phone-a-friend then."

spencer took your hand in his, the simple sentiment warming his heart a bit.

spencer let out a sleepy hum of agreement, his head tipping toward you just a little as he tried to keep talking. "i wonder if there’s a record for... most consecutive hours spent talking about doctor who..."

you snorted slightly, "i think i know the guy it would go to, actually."

a faint grin tugged at his lips. "oh? do you?" his voice was soft, still thick with exhaustion, but the playful glint in his eyes suggested he was still hanging on to the conversation, however faintly.

"yeah," you said with a teasing smile, squeezing his hand lightly. "he's pretty cute."

spencer blinked slowly, the words registering a beat later than usual. his eyes softened, and for a moment, you thought he might actually be too tired to process the compliment. but then, his lips twitched upward in a cheeky smile, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "oh? he sounds like quite the catch," he replied.

you leaned in just a little, a smirk playing at your lips. "yeah, yeah! he really is. very knowledgeable... and, you know, he has this whole charming, slightly awkward thing going on."

spencer let out a soft laugh, but it quickly turned into a yawn. “seems like my kind of guy,” he murmured, the warmth of your hand in his still grounding him, pulling him just a little bit further out of his sleepy haze.

"you’re a little biased," you teased, squeezing his hand again, more gently this time.

a soft chuckle escaped his lips as he tried to stifle another yawn. “maybe just a little."

"get some rest, spence," you whispered, pulling his hand into your lap.

his brows furrowed, like he wanted to protest, but his body was already betraying him, slumping further into the seat.

“just close your eyes,” you coaxed softly, letting your head fall to his shoulder. “pretend we’re on my couch, watching doctor who. nothing to think about, nothing to analyze.”

spencer let out a slow exhale, his body finally relaxing. his head rested against yours softly.

you let out a quiet breath, letting yourself relax too. you listened to his breathing for a while, hearing and feeling the way it got deeper as he slipped into sleep. your eyelids became heavy, and somehow, the pressure in your ears became insignificant.

if this was the closest thing to home you could get right now, you’d take it. your body sunk into the seat, and before you knew it, you were asleep, too.

[bbadandboujee]

SOLAR RETURN OBSERVATIONS PT.2

so y’all liked a niggas last post so i was like hmmm..why not give the beautiful people what they deserve??? so BOOM another one fuggittt.

also isn’t Marilyn so beautiful?

OBSERVATIONS:

the year where your natal 7h, 10h, or even 9h is the solar return ascendant..BABY PREPARE FOR A GOOD ASS YEAR!! making connections, being in the public eye, and overall having a lucky ass year is what its all about!! the years where i had these placements were one of my best years!! (i have it for this year too 🙂‍↕️) one thing i’ve noticed as well is that something positive may come up that’ll change your life forever, change overall is whats coming up for you for that year. if you were bed rotting like me..GIRL ITS OVER THE WAR IS OVER!! you will feel extroverted, lots of opportunities will come your way as well, so trust your discernment when it comes to these opportunities because you never know where life takes you. if you have the natal 7h as your ascendant, be prepared for connections, and even a possible relationship! also if you have natal 10h as your ascendant please be prepared for ALL EYEZ ON YOU! a job promotion & possibly getting married is what i’ve noticed with this placement. natal 9h as your ascendant, prepare for a life changing year spiritually, as well as excelling throughout your university/school, i’ve noticed too that you’ll often have a glow with this placement lol.

the year where you natal 12h is the solar return ascendant: worse year EVER oh my God..and i thank God i don’t have this ascendant anymore for my later solar returns..this year was very traumatic for me as well, not gonna dive deep into it although i healed from it, but just prepare to endure some shit honestly, and make sure you talk to someone about how you’re feeling, that year i had nobody, i was in and out of mental hospitals, like shit was BAD yo, and guess what? i was only 11, so just be careful with this if you have it.

moving on..having a 5h stellium: okay so like you WILL have opportunities in love don’t get it twisted, but this year will not only focus on that it’ll focus on creativity, having fun, children, also noticed you could babysit for that year if you’re into that?? but still, just basically starting something new with a 5h stellium is what you’ll go thru, for me it was nothing much tbh, didn’t even date either like i thought i would, BUT whats weird is that i didn’t start to receive any love opportunities until that very..next year..mk so maybe its not like that for all of y’all but yeah! to sum it up it was an okay year tbh, nothing much fr.

pluto first house: this can either make or break you, yes you’ll endure hella change, all that old shit you’ve been doing? it’s being destructed. this year is giving “new year new you” LOL, like seriously, you won’t be the same and lowkey i love it bc it’s like, yk when butterflies transform into a butterfly? ITS GIVING THAT!! like you’re breaking out of that shell and you’re going into a new year of just change yk? i love it idk.

moon in 12h: is a year where you’ll have hella prophetic dreams!! or simply dreams that come to past, you’ll most definitely be shocked by them as well, having dreams about your future, and to throw it in there even visions about it! even experiencing spiritual experiences!! a very good year for resting as well if you’ve been just burned out from everything, a good year for traveling out of the country especially for your mother. and i noticed this is gonna sound very specific lmk if this resonates too, if your mother has traveled out of the country have y’all found yourselves in relationships? or just dating? like lets think about it fr..

venus conjunct Saturn: can definitely be a year where you get proposed to, or even married, or start ypur first relationship too! i’ve seen this in charts where people get engaged! and then the next following year i’ve noticed venus is in the 10h?? idk just a little theory of mine.

mk so this was short again..omg 💔 lmk if y’all need a part 3! thank you guys so much 4 the love fr!! ily 🫶🏾

[yourmamakira]

Nasty dog — jj maybank

jj finds himself staring at you more then usual, and if anyone could read his mind, they would think he was one nasty dog.

jj x fem!reader , warnings — slight vulgar thoughts, fem pogue reader,

“ back to the Kitty cuz’ she’s kinda pretty, I can’t stop lookin’ at er’ ti-ti-ti-face!

Me and cat mama rode into the distant fog, Little did she know imma’ nasty DOG. “

The slight gloss on your pink lips made them look so soft. The way they jutted out slightly whenever somone would poke fun at you made you look like the cutest thing known to mankind.

The way you pranced around, care free, in that little pink bikini set that showed off every single one of your curves, gave the impression that you didn’t care who looked.

Or maybe you didn’t notice the stares, the looks you got at the beach partys as you laughed and spoke to as many people as Humanly possible, you didn’t care.

You didn’t notice the way jj tracked you with his eyes, the way he followed your every move, to ensure sure you’re safety—or at least that’s what he’s telling himself to justify his nasty thoughts.

Thoughts of taking you away from everyone else’s gaze, bringing you home or ruining your perfect mascara by making it treck down your face from good ol’ happy tears.

As he watched you laugh with Kieara across the fire, he couldn’t help the thoughts, he couldn’t hear what the two of you were talking about but he could only imagine the sweet sound of your voice,

How it Sounded like heaven itself when you spoke his name in any context.

“jj!” A voice called from beside him, and he hesitantly ripped his gaze from you, to meet eyes with Pope. That’s not who he wanted to hear call his name.

“Hm?” Is all he said before going back to stare at you, only to find you 5 feet away talking to a group of people he didn’t know, but obviously you did. You knew everyone.

“Dude, you’re basically undressing her with your eyes.” Pope spoke as he watched as jj watched you intently.

Finally jj came to his senses and he looked away, finally reaching popes look, pope shook his head with a snicker, “you, are whipped my guy. Utterly whipped.” He said as he finally caught a gaze at his two best friends, You and Keiara.

Pope couldn’t just lie, you and Kieara were two fine girls. He knew about JJ’s huge crush on you, and him Kieara, if you both would give in you all would make one hella two man.

Pope looked back at jj and watch as his star struck eyes followed your frame from across the fire. “When are you gonna’ tell er’ man?” Pope spoke with his eyes shifting between you and the puppy eyed boy.

jj looked away from you for a split second, then back to you, and the alcohol must have taken an effect because he swore you grew a pair of angel wings as you spun around and danced.

“I..I don’t know what you mean man.” He said mindlessly, when in reality, he knew exactly what he means.

Everyone did.

They didn’t miss the way his eyes would follow your every step, the way they would light up in adoration every time you spoke to him.

The way he never wore a frown when you didn’t, your emotions slowly turning into his.

The way he studied you for hurt whenever they came back from adventures, the way he would stare at you in a way no one else could.

And they certainly didn’t miss the way he mentally traced every curve his eyes could see, taking off peice by piece, essentially torturing himself.

To put it simply, Jj Maybank, was utterly in love with you.

And he made it very obvious to everyone except himself and you.

Like now, how he watched you sit next to a kook whom looked at you with a sickening grin. you, hunched over and laughing so hard that you clutched your stomach, and he couldn’t look away.

Because less then 20 feet away from him was You, His girl, sitting with a stupid Kook. What were you laughing about? How could you sit there and look so beautiful?

How could you sit there, in your pretty pink bathing suit that was one size to small, hugging your bust just oh so right, looking so…delicious.

Jj couldn’t help it, he really couldn’t, but the way you leaned back and laughed, every part of you bouncing when you walked, how could he help it?

And it didn’t help that he wasn’t the only one who seen you walk around like that, but what set jj apart from everyone else is that he saw more then just your body. He saw you.

But in this moment, he wanted nothing more then to take you away from every possible watching eye, and have you all to himself.

He was selfish, yes. But he could live with that knowing you were all his.

He could live with shielding your innocents from the cruel world.

“JJ!” he was pulled out of his head at the sound of your yelling voice, he quickly looked up so see you sprinting over to you with a big smile on your face, John B right on your tail.

You laughed loudly as you smoothly grabbed JJ’s shoulders and ducked behind him to hide.

John B stopped in front of the both of you, jj who adorned a smile on his face and you whom peaked from behind him with a giggle.

“Y/N.” John B scolded with crossed arms, you tilited your head down and looked up through your eyelashes.

jj looked behind him and quickly grabbed your arm before you bolted again, he swiftly pulled you over his shoulder and grabbed you by your waist, laying your body over his legs, your hanging over.

You giggled out again as jj ticked your stomach. He then suddenly stopped and gave you a look with raised eyebrows.

You sighed quietly and looked back up at John B who still stood there crossed arms.

“What’d you do now, pooch?” jj said looking between you and John B.

You gave him those sweet puppy eyes and then hid your face in his shirt. jj chuckled and looked up at John B with a questioning look.

“She threw sand at me, Got it all in my drink, again!” John B said as he looked down at you whom still hid.

jj looked back down to you and shook you by your way waist,

“Pooch,” he said leaning down to meet your face, “Pooch come outta’ there”

You slowly took your face out of his shirt but didn’t meet either of the staring eyes.

jj shook you again and you sighed louder this time,

“M’ sorry John B..” you mumbled under your breath, jj shook his head then sat you up so you sat fully on his lap.

“Say it like you mean it”

You groaned then stood up and walked over to John B, standing in front of him with a downward head.

“I’m sorry for kicking sand at you and getting it in your drink, John B, I didn’t mean it.” You looked up at him and gave him your best puppy eyes, he sighed then wrapped his arms around you in a hug.

“You’re forgiven” he spoke then kissed the top of your head before jotting back off to his seat.

You smiled before turning around and looking down to jj whom was already staring at you.

You smile and say back down on his lap, he wrapped one of his arms around your waist, then other coming down on your thigh.

you both smiled wide at each other, “Hi jay,” you said, “Hi pooch,” he replied

After examining each others faces, you suddenly raised your arm and took his hat off his head, putting it on yours.

You smiled in triumph and looked down at him, he had no words for what he was feeling,

Every part of him was on fire. His head, his heart, his pants…

The more you stared at him, the lore his thoughts raced,

Your boobs were smooshed in his face, eye level, your thighs felt like what he imagined clouds to feel like, soft and warm.

The way you smiled down at him, he wanted you to make more faces on top of him.

He wanted more of you, all of you.

You brought your face closer to him and softly kissed his nose, he smiled impossibly wider, “what was that for?”

You tilted your head as you matched his smile, “just ‘cause.”

“Just ‘cause?” He repeated, and you brought your face closer again and repeated it one more time, “Yeah, just ‘cause.”

His breath hitched as he looked deeper into your eyes, he wanted to make them roll back into your head.

As y’all stared, y’all’s faces got closer, and closer, till there was little to no space left.

The tent in his pants got tighter, as did his grip on your thigh.

And when he thought you’d pull away, you didn’t, and your lips connected with his.

The kiss was slow, passionate, molded for the others.

Your lips loved in sync, he raised his hand to grab the back on your neck. You swiped you Tounge across his lip and he immediately opened his mouth to give you access. Your tongue shot into his mouth, exploring every inch of it. Leaving no place untouched.

The kiss deepened, you reached your hand up and grabbed his face with both your hands. Gripping his cheeks with a firm grip.

Both of you were running out of air but neither wanted to part.

It was only until pope walked up with Kiara and spoke that you two separated,

“Jeez, suck the air out of Each other, just die from lack of oxygen, that’s cool.” Pope said as he sat on the seat next to the two of you.

Kiara then spoke up, “yeah, and what happened to the no Pouge on Pouge Macking rule?” She said sitting next to Pope

jj tore his gaze away from you to look at his friends, “that rules stupid literally no one follows that rule.” Pope then pointed to jj, “that’s what I said!”

“Besides,” jj continued, “when have I ever been known to follow rules?” He finished and looked back to you were was playing with the hairs on the back of his head staring at his face as he spoke.

You smiled again as you attacked his face. Pushing your body against his in the most lude way possible.

The two of you moaned against each other and Pope and Kiara couldn’t help but grimace as you two basically fucked with clothes on.

“Okay Okay,” said a John B who had arrived with Sarah in toe, “that’s enough PDA.” He said sitting across from the two of you, watching with disgust.

jj rolled his eyes and pulls you closer breaking the kiss, “Your right John B, That’s enough PDA, come on pooch, we’re taking this party in the house.” Is all he said as he picked you up with your legs wrapped around his waist.

“Don’t get pregnant!” Yelled Kiara but it fell to deaf ears as the two of you were already making out again.

When he finally got you into the house and into a random room he locked the door then threw you on the bed.

He spun around and you giggled as he walked over to you, then hovered over you, knee between your legs.

“You know how pretty you are?” He said brushing hair out your face.

Your smiled and brought your arms around his neck.

He got the message, no more talking was needed, except the sweet praises he whispered in your ears of course.

NOT PROOF READ

[nerdsnuff]

🍞 AKAD — oikawa tooru

happy haikyuu day!! thank you furudate for changing my life. here’s something for oikawa cause he’s so so special to me and i love him (not romantically, despite this fic) so i hope i write for him MORE. anyway, yeah inspired by an indonesian song (linked in title) I HOPE YOU ENJOY

“i think i’ll marry you someday” oikawa says suddenly.

you to turn your head his way in a fast motion, yet he continues to look up ahead and watch as the raindrops fall. the two of you sit idly on a bench, sheltered beneath the roof of a bus stop. the weather is cold, and all you can hear is mostly raindrops falling around you, striking the roof the two of you hide beneath. you think maybe that’s why he said it, convinced you wouldn’t hear.

“what?” you speak up, not wanting to ignore his words. he turns his head to you now, a knowing smile on his face — he seems well aware of his words. so you ask again, “what made you say that?”

“i was just thinking, it just came to mind how happy it makes me to be with you, walk with you, laugh with you,” he stops to chuckle. “it’s cheesy, i know. but i really wouldn’t mind continuing to experience all of that in the future” he explained.

the world felt like it was washing away slowly with every word he spoke, as if it flowed with the stream, down the drain. all you can seem to focus on now is oikawa.

he looks away again for a moment. “but of course if i’m going to far, or maybe you’re not interested, then it’s fine. i’ll still always be there for you in any way you want” he says genuinely, though almost sad. “just let me stay in your life, okay?”

you look away now, face reddening. “okay” you respond bashfully. “i wouldn’t mind marrying you either”

suddenly his head is on your shoulder, you almost jump. he speaks into your ear, “do you like the rain?” how random, you didn’t know how to respond.

“i mean, it’s okay?” you sound unsure of yourself. he just laughs a little, pulling away to take off his bag.

“let’s do something impulsive, take off your bag too” he ordered while smiling at you, a smile you can’t seem to say no to, so you do as he told.

suddenly, he pulls you up. suddenly, you’re soaked and suddenly, you really are melting away with the world in the presence of oikawa tooru — here, laughing and holding your hands. and here, under the rain, just as soaked as you are. you want to be mad, but can’t. you have a feeling you’ll never forget this moment.

“fuck! okay maybe this was too impulsive!” he yells with a laugh; suddenly regretting his decision. you laugh with him, more-so at his misery over his own stupid choice.

“it’s fine, let’s just enjoy the moment!” you yell back, smile on your face. your cheeks are red, and so are his as he looks at you. before you know it, he pulls you closer, wet clothes now stuck to one another, a hand of his intertwined with yours while the other rests on your hip. you don’t care who sees this sight, not when the whole world was in front of you already.

“isn’t this romantic?” he asks with a smirk, face near yours. you simply scoff.

“it’s corny. but i can’t lie, this’ll probably stay in my mind forever. never thought you’d do this of all people, risking your hair getting wet” you say. he quirks his eyebrow.

“are you saying i can’t have some fun once awhile? nobody’s here but you anyway, who cares if i look a little… bad? you still think i’m attractive, don’t you?” he flutters his eyelashes, a droplet falls from them. his eyes shine beneath the dimming lights, the only sun visible in a sky of gray. you don’t think he’s simply attractive, he’s gorgeous.

“always” you smile. and he does too. oikawa laughs again, that stupid contagious laugh that makes you laugh too.

you stay like this for awhile, laughing and dancing beneath the rain, clothes soaked, visions blurred behind drenches lashes. the moment seems to last forever, at least that’s what it felt like.

but forever isn’t real.

you snap out of your trance, quickly shaking away the thoughts of that sweet memory.

now you’re both adults, and dancing in the rain was just something seen in movies about high school romance. though the moment you two shared feels like something that came straight from one of those, you think. and as you sit and read the postcard oikawa sent from argentina, sometimes you wonder if the movie ever ended. he’s so corny, sending cards when he’s literally a text away.

“i’ll be home soon my love, wait for me! -xoxo, oikawa”

is what’s written on the postcard. you smile as you stare at it. how soon is soon? it’s been a week since this came in the mail, you don’t want to be too hung up on it. you miss him dearly.

you look up front the postcard, eyes gazing to the window over the desk you sit on. it’s raining outside, and you always miss him the most when it’s raining. your feelings spill out like the raindrops you watch fall.

you miss him physically. technically he kept his promise, he’s still in your life, but you miss feeling him next to you.

unexpectedly you hear a knock on the door, the rain pouring makes you almost miss it. but the knock was loud and clear, so you get up, chair scraping on the floor loud enough for the person behind the door to hear. a part of you was nervous to open it, you weren’t expecting someone, but hoping instead.

the angels were on your side today, well, in front of you, actually.

a familiar tuff of swayed brown hair with two strands that never want to go down, brown eyes that remind you of home, and a familiar smirk to top it off.

oikawa tooru is suddenly home. he came back just as you were thinking about him, and he’s as handsome as you remember. you’ve fallen, as hard as the raindrops outside. you’ve fallen and became a puddle under his gaze.

he gives you no time to speak before hugging you tight. he’s taller than before, but as soaked as you remember.

“tooru, you’re gonna soak my clo—”

“you’re drier than necessary, it’s not fair” he drops his bag on the floor. “for old times sake, let’s do something impulsive” he smiles, the one you’ve never been able to say no to. then, he pulls you outside.

now you’re both soaked and underneath a thousand falling raindrops, but you’re both happy — laughing, smiling and dancing. you’ve never felt more alive, you’ve never felt more in love, completed. especially now that he’s here with you, like some stupid movie miracle.

“you still think this is romantic, right?” he asks, though he has this look that makes it seem like he doesn’t quite care what you’d say, he’ll go on with whatever he has in mind anyway.

you laugh brightly, the only sun he sees beneath the gray sky. his heart flutters as you speak, “still as corny as i remember”

“mind if i make it cornier then?” he reaches for his pocket, and pulls out a blue box. your eyes widen, that can’t be mistaken as anything else. he gets on one knee and the world stops this time, it doesn’t flow away. you’re here now, both of you.

“on a rainy afterschool day, i said one day that i’d marry you. we haven’t seen each other in awhile but i know that i still love being with you, i still love walking with you, i still love laughing with you. i hope we get to experience that in the city of argentina where we won’t be separated again, because i promise to take you with me” he takes a deep breath.

“will you marry me?”

you cry, though it you almost can’t tell as it rolls down your cheek with the rain. you scream, “yes!” before hugging him, ignoring the ring for a second. you’ll wrap that around your finger in a bit, but first, you need to wrap your arms around him. and you do so as you kiss him, loving and slippery, making you both burst into a fit of giggles.

akad; meaning promises. oikawa has made a promise, and the moment he finally slips the ring on your finger he has fulfilled it. just as he fulfills you.

[cuubism]

Order of Operations (3957 words) Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling, Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Graduate School, Established Relationship, Engagement, Marriage Proposal, Fluff, elopement, Explicit Sexual Content, Cooking, Idiots in Love, engagement to wedding speedrun, Incredibly Sappy, how to occupy your adhd boyfriend Series: Part 12 of Complex Maths Summary: Dream was just trying to tease. He really didn't intend to propose NOW.

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Complex Math wedding fic for you :]

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Dream has become well-attuned to when Hob is getting restless. It happens at intervals. Sometimes when he has been working too much. Sometimes, conversely, when he is just getting bored. He needs something to occupy his mind, and his hands—and Dream does love being what he occupies himself with. So yes, he knows when Hob is restless, sometimes before Hob himself.

Like now, when he’s staring at his laptop screen, lines of utter computer gibberish Dream doesn’t comprehend, and bouncing his knee. Chewing on the end of a pen. He keeps looking over in Dream’s direction, like he means to say something, then pulls himself back from doing it.

He has, in fact, interrupted Dream three times already in just the past hour, breaking his train of thought. Looking for distraction, for stimulation. Well, Dream thinks, if he is not going to get any work done on this proof due to Hob’s fidgeting, then he might as well have more fun with it than this.

“You are restless,” he says, putting aside his work.

“Sorry,” Hob says. “Should I go for a walk? Am I bothering you?”

“Yes,” Dream says, and Hob looks crestfallen—until Dream takes his hand and tugs him up from the table. “So I must make better use of you.”

“Oh, yeah?” He sounds interested now, and it cuts through the fog of distractibility that sometimes descends. Dream does love being interesting.

“If you’re going to interrupt my work, I think there are better ways.”

“Oh… yeah?”

Dream squeezes his hand, smiling to himself. This will help. Hob needs a grounding exercise. Besides which, it will be fun.

“Yes.” He brings Hob into the bedroom, pushes him lightly on the chest so he sits down on the bed. Hob looks up at him like he’s starving, like he does sometimes when he just really needs something, and selfishly, Dream loves it. He loves being the one on the end of that look.

He works Hob’s shirt off, then his socks and trousers. All the while Hob gazes at him, enraptured. “Go on,” Dream says, unexpectedly soft even to himself, as he prods him further up the bed so he’s lying back against the pillows.

“Want to explain what you’re doing?” Hob says, but doesn’t sound like he’d be too perturbed if Dream didn’t. If he just took Hob along with him.

“As you are incapable of letting me finish my work,” Dream says, “I think you will have to be my canvas.”

“What does that mean?”

Dream snatches up a marker from his nightstand, and uncaps it, straddles Hob’s thighs, pulling a punched out breath from his lungs. “Stay still, so I can write.”

He writes the next line of his proof—starting from where he left off—right under Hob’s collarbones.

Hob jumps, smudging one of the strokes. “Dream, that tickles.”

“Stay still,” Dream orders, and feels a rush of arousal when Hob goes still again. “Don’t make me restrain you.”

“Jesus Christ…” Hob watches, rapt, as Dream keeps writing. It is… significantly harder to concentrate on solving this problem while sitting in Hob’s lap than it was while just listening to him fidget. A predictable obstacle, but then, the point of the exercise had not truly been to finish his work.

“I will reward you,” he says more softly, “if you are good.”

Hob’s voice is breathy, and his chest rises and falls sharply under Dream’s hands. “Will you?”

“My Hob,” Dream says fondly, and Hob actually shivers at the tone of his voice. “I know how hard it is for you to concentrate sometimes. So be good, and pay attention to me, instead.”

“Always,” Hob swears.

Dream tries valiantly to actually work on his proof, but it is, of course, a fool’s errand. Hob is the greater pull of his focus. The strength of his thighs where Dream is straddling them. The rise and fall of his chest under Dream’s hands. He stays very still, and each time Dream looks up Hob is looking at him, gaze heavy. Dream’s writing swiftly devolves into gibberish.

Still, he kisses Hob lightly on the mouth, a reward for being good. Hob is hard under him, but with great effort, he pays it no mind, yet.

“You’re cute when you’re all focused,” Hob teases, and Dream kisses him again, more to quiet him this time. Except it is pleasant to kiss Hob, and so he loses himself in it for some moments, his own ignored arousal stirring within him.

Disobeying his orders to be still, Hob curls his hands in Dream’s hair. Dream cannot find it in him to scold him for it; Hob’s touch is too pleasant, and Dream is too fond of him to really be stern.

“You are distracting me,” he admonishes, finally pulling away from Hob’s mouth. Hob gazes at him, lips wet. He does not seem so scattered now.

“Thought that was the point.”

“You are a perennial distraction,” Dream says, and Hob smiles, self-satisfied.

“Good enough to pull the world’s greatest maths genius from his labors. I’ll take that compliment.”

Dream pushes him back. Hob’s head knocks lightly against the headboard. Dream settles deeper in his lap, grinding down on Hob’s erection, and Hob whines at the not-enough pressure.

He writes the next line of his proof, relishing in the hitch of Hob’s breath at the scratch of the pen. Hob’s skin looks pretty, he thinks, adorned with these fragments of the universe, but prettier just as he is.

Though Dream does like putting his mark on him.

“Genius at work,” Hob muses, looking at him from under his lashes. “That’s sexy. D’you know how sexy you are?”

“‘Sexy,’” Dream grumbles, as he writes another line on Hob’s chest.

“Fucking hot. D’you remember when we met? When you behaved like an absolute twat about me ‘stealing’ your classroom?”

Dream remembers it well. He remembers how overwhelming Hob’s presence was from the very start. “It was my classroom,” he says.

“Um, according to the university schedule, it was mine.”

“We’ve had this argument already,” Dream says. “What were you saying?”

“Well, you told me to go fuck myself—which, by the way, I think I’ve heard you use that word maybe five times in the whole time we’ve known each other, so you really must have been flustered—” he seems very pleased at this— “anyway, you told me to go fuck myself and I really almost said ‘I’d rather you did it.’ I think the fact that the undergrads were already getting to class is the literal only thing that stopped that coming out of my mouth.”

Dream… did not know this. And Hob is just grinning at him.

“What would you have said?” he asks.

“I would have run away,” Dream admits, and Hob laughs. Truthfully, he had been interested in Hob from the moment he saw him. But he would not have been able to cope with being propositioned, or teased, in such a way. “Would you have… actually?”

“I’d have sucked your cock right there in that classroom if you wanted.”

Dream chokes, and his marker goes skidding across Hob’s skin. He is suddenly possessed by the vivid image of it, growing harder in his jeans, and Hob grins at him, running his tongue over his teeth.

“You are,” Dream says, struggling, “a menace.”

“Could do it now, too, if you want,” Hob offers.

How Dream does love the feeling of Hob’s mouth on him. He loves how Hob runs his mouth, and how he uses it.

“Perhaps I will allow you that, as a reward, if you are good,” Dream says stiffly, drawing himself back together. It’s difficult with Hob looking at him like that, tongue pressed to his lower lip. “If you let me finish my work.”

“I’m just a canvas, don’t let me distract you,” Hob says innocently.

Dream shifts himself back, so he can reach lower on Hob’s stomach, then keeps writing, faster now. Perhaps in truth, he would rather give up this exercise and give in to Hob’s offer to blow him. That, too, would accomplish the task of settling Hob’s mind… among other things.

He stops working on the proof. Instead, he writes another equation, simpler, just a few lines.

“Is that that one function that makes a heart shape when you graph it?” Hob asks.

Dream looks up at him slowly. “How do you know that?”

Hob grins, pleased with himself. It makes Dream want to nip him in the thigh. “I don’t. I just know you. I could tell your attention was drifting.”

Just to spite him, this time, Dream simply writes words. He does it backwards so they might be read in a mirror, from Hob’s point of view.

“You… are… so… annoying,” Hob says, grinning, reading along as Dream writes. Of course he can simply tell what Dream is writing, even if it’s backwards. “Aw, thanks, babe.”

“Only the truth,” Dream says.

I love you, he writes.

“I love you,” Hob says. He pets Dream’s hair. “I love you, too, Dream.”

Dream leans his forehead against his stomach, though he’s careful not to smudge the writing. Hob digs his fingers into his hair, pets his temples, caresses his cheeks. He is so good to Dream. Tolerant of his whims and strange habits, as Dream has come to tolerate, to love, even, Hob’s own forms of madness. Dream wants to stay here. Right here. Forever.

Moved by mad impulse, he writes another line.

Hob dutifully reads it out. “Will you m—”

He stops abruptly. Looks down at Dream, who looks back evenly, though his heart is pounding.

Hob tries again, more shakily. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Dream says.

Hob pulls him up by the arms and kisses him. It’s off balance, his fingertips are digging into Dream’s biceps, Dream’s knee is jabbing Hob in the thigh, but he doesn’t care. He feels all alight, full of beaming joy from his toes to the tips of his ears, fizzy and hot. Hob pulls him closer until Dream is sitting properly in his lap, their bodies pressed together, and Dream wraps his arms around his shoulders.

“You really want to marry me?” Hob breathes, taking Dream’s face between his hands.

Dream nods. He had not planned to ask in this moment, but looking into Hob’s hopeful eyes, all those idle fantasies floating in the back of his mind come alive with a fury. He wants that. Hob to be his, and to know Hob wants him, permanently.

“I want to marry you,” he says.

Hob beams, and then kisses him again, hands framing his face as Dream clutches at his shoulders, sinking into his body and the warmth of his mouth.

He needs— he needs to be closer. He needs to be as close as possible to Hob in this moment. He tosses his pen aside and wiggles out of his shirt, plastering himself to Hob’s body as he pushes him down to lie flat on the bed.

“Don’t smudge the writing, I’m keeping it,” Hob says, laughing, as Dream fits himself between his legs.

“Keeping it?” Dream asks.

Hob touches Dream’s forearm where ‘the wifi password is I love you’ still stands out in fresh ink. “I want one.”

A lump forms in Dream’s throat at the thought that Hob would really immortalize his impromptu proposal in this way. He’s glad he used permanent market. “I will try not to smudge it,” he promises.

Though contrary to Hob’s words, he pulls Dream close again, chest to chest, and kisses him, fingers tangling in Dream’s hair. “I love you,” he says against Dream’s lips. Dream hears himself make a low wanting sound that once upon a time he’d have been embarrassed to admit to. Not now, though, not with this man.

Hob swallows the sound, pulling him closer, wrapping a leg around the back of Dream’s thigh. Dream grinds against him, but he’s still wearing his jeans and it’s not nearly enough.

Hob must have the same thought, for he goes for the button on Dream’s jeans and then starts tugging on the waistband. Dream reluctantly disentangles himself long enough to slip them and his underwear off his legs, and Hob does the same with his underwear, before immediately pulling him back in to press their now naked bodies together.

This is Dream’s favorite place to be. Cuddled up against Hob, skin to skin. He hums in pleasure, wiggling his arms under Hob’s back, squeezing him tight.

“Can’t move, Dream,” Hob says, laughing. Dream’s arousal feels secondary now to the pleasure he gets just from being close to Hob’s body. But he does enjoy that form of pleasure, too. So he loosens his grip enough that Hob can actually breathe, which Hob takes advantage of by turning them so he’s on top, fit between Dream’s legs. Mmm. Yes, this is good. He does like to have Hob covering him.

“You’re a menace,” Hob tells him, laughing again. “Got to do the proposal so now you’ll make me do all the work?” He hitches Dream’s leg up around his waist, and like that Hob can grind against him, making Dream moan, already sensitive and wanting from all the teasing.

“You needed something to occupy you anyway,” Dream breathes, the words shivery for how Hob is kissing up his throat.

“Now I can occupy myself with making you happy for the rest of time, I see what you’ve done.”

Dream smiles to himself. Hob comes back up in time to catch the look on his face, smiles down at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Dream thinks about how he’ll get to see those smile lines develop over time, and the grey streak from Hob’s temples, and realizes he’s never thought that far ahead before. Never filled in the endless black void of the future with something he actually wanted.

“You want to marry me,” he says, more of a statement this time than a question.

“Yeah, Dream.” Hob bumps their noses together. “Of course I do.”

“When?”

Hob laughs, startled. “When?”

“Now,” Dream says. He had not even been intending to propose, but now he does not want to wait at all. Why should they?

“Can’t go now,” Hob says. Dream tries not to feel disappointed. Hob is only being reasonable, after all. Then Hob adds, “It’s dinnertime. It’s Sunday. They’re closed.”

“…Oh.” Dream had briefly forgotten there was a governmental paperwork component to this. In his mind they simply declared themselves to each other and the rest of the world had to sort itself out around that. “Oh.”

“Can go in…” Hob squints as he counts mentally. “Thirteen and a half hours. I don’t have a suit, though. So. That’s an obstacle.”

“You do have a suit,” Dream counters, instead of processing the fact that Hob is actually agreeing to marry him tomorrow.

“Not one that’s nice enough to get married in.”

He seems genuinely troubled by it, and Dream laughs so loudly at the expression on his face he has to cover his mouth. “I think you are quite handsome in it,” he says, calming himself.

Hob smiles. “Thank you, darling. Do you even own a suit for this?”

“Yes. But I refuse to wear a tie. It’s uncomfortable.”

“Well now I can’t wear one either or we’ll look all mismatched.” He only smiles wider as he says it, though. “You’re really going to marry me tomorrow.”

“For lack of ability to do it tonight,” Dream says.

Hob kisses him, smiling against his mouth, pressing their bodies close together, perhaps forgetting he’d wanted to avoid smearing Dream’s writing. Dream will just rewrite it if he has to. He’s enjoying having Hob close to him too much to tell him to move.

Hob slips deeper between Dream’s legs. Dream wraps both legs around Hob’s hips, sinking into the feeling of having Hob pressed against him. It feels so good to have Hob over him. Safe, where with anyone else it would feel smothering. He wraps his arms around Hob’s shoulders, humming to himself, as Hob slips a hand between them, taking them both in his grasp.

Dream gasps, lips pressed to Hob’s cheek. He loves Hob’s hands.

He feels the curve of Hob’s smile against his lips. “Get to do this all the time now, you know,” Hob says.

“You already do this all the time,” Dream says, urging him in closer with one leg, heedless of how it traps Hob’s hand between them.

“Still. You know what I mean.”

Dream does. It’s the permanence of the thing. It’s knowing every night he gets to come back to Hob in his bed. Always there.

“Kiss me,” Dream says, breath stuttering as Hob keeps working them.

“This is a lot of multitasking—” Hob starts to tease, but Dream takes him by the hair and draws him down. Seals their lips together.

He remembers first meeting Hob and being possessed by the way Hob talked. No matter how he claimed to be annoyed by it. He was captured by the relentless working of Hob’s brain. The intensity of him. Would find himself watching Hob’s mouth as he spoke.

He’s now similarly possessed by Hob’s kisses. He always kisses with surety, like he’s never once doubted it’s where he wants to be or what he wants to be doing.

Dream has doubted. Dream has wanted him and thought he couldn’t have him, has needed him and still felt sure it would inevitably fall apart. He… doesn’t think he feels that way anymore. Now he just falls into Hob’s kiss without wondering when it will end. It’s a very good feeling.

“You’re thinking too much,” Hob murmurs, lips brushing Dream’s. “I’m definitely doing something wrong if you’re thinking so much when my hand’s on your dick.”

“Perhaps I’m thinking about you,” Dream suggests.

“Figured you got distracted by the Hodge conjecture or some such maths problem. It’s so much more interesting after all.”

“It is,” Dream teases, and Hob laughs, incredulous.

“Are you sure you can get married when you’re already wedded to maths?”

“I want to marry you,” Dream says.

“I’ll just accept that we’re in an open relationship, I would never take you away from your one true love,” Hob swears, eyes sparkling.

“Nor I you,” Dream says.

“What’s my one true love in this scenario?”

“Being annoying to me.”

Hob laughs. “Oh, true. But you should see the way your nose scrunches up when I tease you. It’s so cute. That’s one of the first moments I fell for you, you know. How offended you looked when I was tormenting you about your classroom.”

“It was offensive,” Dream says.

“Didn’t anyone ever tease you before? Or were you too intimidating?”

“Not… lightheartedly,” Dream admits. He certainly had plenty of experience being tormented growing up. Desire still likes to do it to this day. It had taken him some time, initially, to realize Hob meant it fondly. That he was just trying to get Dream’s attention, rile him up a bit, not hurt his feelings. He doesn’t think he had fully understood Hob’s interest was serious until their first kiss.

“I did enjoy our arguments,” Dream adds, before Hob’s face can truly fall. He had, to what felt like his peril at the time, been interested in Hob as well. Had wanted his attention even as he was uncertain it was meant as a good thing. “Once I realized it was meant to be… fun.”

“Oh, darling.” Hob kisses his forehead, and Dream smiles to himself. He wouldn’t trade any of it, even with all the uncertainty.

“I’m only glad I didn’t scare you off with my behavior,” Dream says, as Hob holds him close, hands framing his face.

“Don’t be, I loved it, you have no idea how much entertainment you added to my life. I don’t know what it says about me that every time you called me a name I just wanted you more.”

“Something not good, I imagine,” Dream says, and Hob chuckles.

“I’ll have to keep on annoying you, then. For tradition.”

“For tradition,” Dream agrees.

“And one day,” Hob adds, lips pressed to Dream’s again, “we’re going back to that classroom. And I’m going to do to you what I wanted to do the first time.”

“I will expect it,” Dream says lowly, twining his hands in Hob’s hair once more, body taking interest again just at imagining it. “We. Got distracted.”

“Don’t we always? You’ll have to get used to it, with me.”

“I am used to it,” Dream murmurs. He truly would not trade the strange way Hob’s mind works for anything. It’s an invigorating complement to his own.

“I still want you,” Hob says. “Always. But right now I mean.”

“I would be rather disappointed if you didn’t.”

Hob wraps his hand lightly around Dream again. “Still interested,” he says with a grin.

“Of course.” Dream so loves the way Hob touches him. Always firm and sure, but playful. Hob is so very playful, which is not something Dream thinks he himself has ever been, but he soaks it in and feels nourished.

Hob starts stroking him lightly, but says, “What do you want? We’ve got all night, you know.”

Dream does know. All night until they are to get married. He doubts he will be able to sleep for any of it. But it’s no matter, for he’s with Hob.

“I just want you close to me.”

“Alright.” Hob sets his weight more heavily on Dream, though he has to remove his hand before it gets trapped between their bodies. Dream’s cock rubs pleasantly against his belly. “I want that, too. Come here, darling.”

“I am here,” Dream breathes, as Hob kisses him, arms wrapped around him, drawing him close. “I am here.”

He wraps his legs tight around Hob’s waist. Kisses him long and slow, their lips sliding, bodies rocking together, merging into one. Pleasure builds between them, but Dream doesn’t feel much urgency to chase it. He’s happy just being close to Hob.

He gets to have this every day now, he thinks. For the rest of their lives together. Every day he gets to watch Hob fall asleep in bed beside him, and curl up with him once he finally falls asleep himself; he gets to bury his face in Hob’s chest when he’s overstimulated and have Hob calm him when he feels like he’s going to melt down.

Dream never thought this sort of peace could be for him.

They don’t get far into anything particularly elaborate. Dream is holding Hob so close that Hob can do little but grind against him, kiss him, tug on Dream’s hair. But Dream doesn’t need it to be more complicated. He loves the way Hob moves over him, the weight of Hob’s body, all their skin touching. He doesn’t have to think, he can just feel all the points where they’re connected.

He shakes as Hob brings him off, breath trembling, body all alight. Then he turns Hob onto his back and kisses down his chest, lingering on the words written there, and finally taking Hob into his mouth, relishing in the grip of Hob’s hands in his hair as he comes.

This feels peaceful, too, lacking the urgency that chases so many of their times together. Dream doesn’t feel like he has to rush, because he has so much time with Hob. So much time.

After, he lies curled against Hob, resting in the movement of his chest rising and falling. Hob’s hand traces up and down over his hip. And Dream thinks he could rest there forever--there, in the peace of their space together.

[yara0546]

୨୧ Unexpected Sparks ✦ Lee Haechan  .    .    .    한 번의 샷   ;   ୨୧

୨୧ Pairing: lee haechan x fem!reader

୨୧ Genre: Romance, Drama, Slice of Life, Developing feelings, media scrutiny.

୨୧ Word Count: 4,000 words

୨୧ Note: English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any grammatical errors, because I sometimes use a translator in some sentences.

୨୧ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction from our imagination. It is not intended that the plot, theme, original characters, idols, etc. portray any real-life events/people. Plagiarism is NOT tolerated on this blog. If you believe we have copied an existing authors’ work, please message us privately. thank you and enjoy :)

Masterlist

The entertainment industry was a whirlwind of schedules, lights, and endless interactions. Yet, despite working in the same field for years, you and Haechan had never truly crossed paths beyond a passing greeting. That was, until fate or rather, a production team decided to throw you into the same reality show.

A new variety program had gathered multiple idols from different groups and agencies, pairing them up in teams for various challenges. When your name was announced alongside Haechan's, you barely had time to process it before the cameras were rolling.

You sat beside him in the van, staring out the window, unsure how to start a conversation. Haechan, on the other hand, seemed entirely at ease, scrolling through his phone.

“You’re quieter than I expected,” he commented suddenly, making you turn toward him.

“I don’t usually talk unless there’s something to say,” you replied honestly.

“Ahh, so mysterious,” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. “I thought you’d be more talkative.”

“I thought you’d be less talkative,” you shot back, and he gasped dramatically.

“Wow, I see how it is.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I was planning to be extra nice to you, but now you’ve ruined it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

The producers sent you both to an outdoor survival challenge. The task? Build a shelter and cook a meal using limited resources. The sun was setting, and you were both failing miserably.

“I swear, this isn’t working,” you groaned, dropping the half-built tent pole.

“You’re just not believing in it enough,” Haechan joked, trying to tie two sticks together with a shoelace.

You gave him an unimpressed look. “Yeah, because belief is totally what’s going to keep this thing from collapsing.”

He grinned. “Exactly! It’s all about manifestation.”

Despite the frustration, you couldn’t help laughing. There was something about him his energy, his unwavering playfulness that made the exhaustion feel a little less unbearable.

At some point, as you both sat by the fire, eating poorly roasted potatoes, he looked over at you, his face illuminated by the glow.

“You’re actually pretty fun,” he admitted, his voice softer than usual.

“You sound surprised,” you said, raising a brow.

“I am,” he confessed with a small chuckle. “I thought you were cold. But you’re just... guarded.”

The comment hit a little too close to home. You looked away, focusing on the flames. “Maybe.”

Haechan nudged your knee with his. “Well, you don’t have to be with me.”

And just like that, something shifted.

As the show aired in real-time, fans picked up on the growing chemistry between you and Haechan. The way he teased you, the way you rolled your eyes but always ended up laughing it didn’t go unnoticed.

Even the staff whispered about it.

“You two have amazing chemistry,” the PD commented one afternoon. “You should work together more often.”

Haechan smirked, shooting you a knowing look. “You hear that? We’re a dynamic duo.”

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you replied, but your cheeks felt warmer than usual.

The show was wrapping up, and soon, you’d go back to your separate careers. The thought made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t expect.

After the final shoot, Haechan found you outside, staring at the city skyline.

“Hey,” he called, stepping beside you. “We survived.”

“Barely.”

He chuckled before turning serious. “I don’t really want this to be the last time we talk.”

You met his gaze. “It doesn’t have to be.”

He hesitated, then smirked. “So, does that mean you’ll go on a date with me?”

You laughed. “Are you always this forward?”

“With you? Yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I like you. A lot. And I don’t think it’s just because of the show.”

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding. “Me neither.”

His grin widened, and without thinking, he reached out, lacing his fingers with yours. “Then let’s see where this goes.”

And just like that, what started as an unexpected pairing turned into something real.

After the final episode aired, the response was overwhelming. Your names trended on social media, and clips of your interactions flooded fan edits.

"[Y/N] and Haechan have the best chemistry!"

"Why do they look like a real couple???"

"I swear if they're not dating, I’m suing the producers for emotional damage."

You scrolled through the comments, biting your lip. Truthfully, you missed the easy back-and-forth with Haechan. The past ten days had changed something—filming was exhausting, but he had made it fun. Now that it was over, you weren’t sure how to go back to… whatever you were before.

A message popped up on your phone.

Haechan [8:42 PM]: Saw a clip of us. Damn, we look good together.

Haechan [8:42 PM]: Wanna give the fans what they want?

You rolled your eyes.

You [8:43 PM]: And what do they want?

Haechan [8:44 PM]: Me as your boyfriend, obviously.

Your heart did a weird little flip.

You [8:45 PM]: I think you want that more than they do.

Haechan [8:45 PM]: Exactly.

First Date Or Was It?

A few days later, Haechan invited you out. Not a date, he insisted, just two coworkers hanging out.

But the way he showed up at your doorstep with a smug grin and an iced coffee in hand told a different story.

“Gotta keep my girl energized,” he said, handing it over.

You narrowed your eyes. “I’m not your girl.”

“Yet,” he corrected, then held out his arm dramatically. “Shall we?”

You sighed but couldn’t fight your smile.

The night was… easy. No cameras, no scripted interactions, just you and him. He took you to a cozy, hidden restaurant where no one would recognize you. Over dinner, he kept stealing bites of your food despite having the exact same dish, and when you called him out, he grinned.

“Yours tastes better,” he reasoned.

“That makes no sense.”

“Neither does liking you this much after ten days, but here we are.”

You froze, chopsticks halfway to your mouth. He said it so casually, yet your heart went into overdrive.

“Why do you say things like that?” you muttered.

“Because they’re true.” He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “Do you want me to stop?”

You hesitated, then shook your head. “No.”

His smirk softened into something more sincere. “Good.”

The Industry Complication

Dating in the industry was never easy. The second time you met after filming, a paparazzi shot of you together surfaced online.

"NCT’s Haechan and [Y/N] spotted late at night dating rumors?"

You saw the article just as your phone rang.

Haechan.

“Don’t panic,” was the first thing he said.

“I’m not,” you lied.

He chuckled. “You are.”

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “What do we do?”

“What do you want to do?” His voice was calm, reassuring. “We could deny it, say we’re just friends. Or…”

“Or?”

“Or we don’t say anything and let them believe whatever they want.”

You chewed on your lip. The easy route was denial. But something in you didn’t want to. You liked spending time with him. Liked the way he made your world brighter.

“…I don’t want to lie,” you admitted quietly.

There was a pause. Then, his voice came through, warm and teasing.

“Guess that makes you my girlfriend then.”

You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t say that.”

“You kinda did.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “But don’t worry, you’ve got time to officially confess.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Wait—”

Click.

You stared at your screen, heart pounding. Maybe the sparks between you weren’t just for the cameras after all.

Dating in secret was fun stolen moments, late-night calls, the thrill of almost getting caught. But the industry was relentless, and rumors never truly died.

One evening, after an exhausting rehearsal, you got a call from your manager.

"We need to talk," they said, voice tight. "Now."

You arrived at the company’s office, only to find Haechan already there, sitting across from his own management team. He looked up at you, his usual playfulness absent.

Your stomach twisted.

The higher ups wasted no time. "We know you’re dating," one of the executives said bluntly. "Dispatch has photos. It’s only a matter of time before they release them."

You inhaled sharply. This was your worst-case scenario—losing control of the narrative.

Haechan leaned forward. "So what now? Do we deny it?"

"No," his manager said, exchanging glances with yours. "If we do, it’ll only make things worse when more evidence surfaces. The best option is for you both to confirm it on your own terms."

Silence.

You clenched your fists. "So we have no choice."

"It’s better than being exposed without warning," your manager reasoned.

Haechan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He turned to you. "What do you want to do?"

You looked at him. This wasn’t fair. But you knew how the industry worked. If you had to confirm it, at least it would be on your terms.

“…Fine," you said quietly.

Going Public

A joint statement was drafted. Both companies posted it at the same time.

"Haechan and [Y/N] have recently developed feelings for each other and are currently getting to know one another with good intentions. We hope fans will support them."

Within minutes, the internet exploded.

"[Y/N] AND HAECHAN ARE DATING???"

"My heart is broken, but I will support them."

"THEY WERE FLIRTING ON THAT SHOW, I KNEW IT!!!"

"I'm so happy for them! But I hope the companies don’t interfere."

Your hands trembled as you scrolled through the comments.

Then, your phone rang.

Haechan.

"Hey," he said, voice softer than usual.

"Hey."

"You okay?"

You exhaled shakily. "I don’t know. It feels… weird."

"Yeah," he admitted. "But you know what?"

"What?"

He chuckled. "At least now I can flirt with you in public without getting side-eyed by our managers."

You laughed despite yourself. "You’re impossible."

"Yeah, but I’m your impossible."

And somehow, despite the chaos, you knew you'd be okay.

Going public changed everything.

Fans dissected every interaction, analyzing past moments for “clues” about your relationship. Some were supportive, some weren’t. Hate comments filled your notifications, alongside heartfelt messages from those who genuinely wished you happiness.

Your company sent out a strict set of rules:

No excessive public displays of affection.

Keep interactions “professional” in group settings.

No talking about the relationship unless approved.

In short, they wanted you together, but only on their terms.

One evening, after finishing promotions, you met up with Haechan at a quiet café, hidden from prying eyes. He was already there when you arrived, hood pulled low, a cap covering his hair.

The moment you sat down, he reached for your hand under the table, lacing his fingers with yours.

"Rough day?" he asked.

You sighed. "You could say that."

He tilted his head. "Hate comments?"

"Mostly." You looked down at your coffee. "It’s weird. I knew people would react, but seeing it… feels different."

His grip on your hand tightened. "They don’t know you. They only know what they think they know."

You gave him a small smile. "Easy for you to say. You thrive on attention."

He smirked. "Yeah, but I only care about your attention."

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest spread.

Then, his expression turned serious. "Are you happy?"

You blinked. "With you?"

"With… all of this. Us being public, the pressure. I know it’s a lot."

You hesitated. Was it hard? Yes. Was it overwhelming? Absolutely.

But was it worth it?

You glanced at his fingers still intertwined with yours. At the way he looked at you, completely unguarded.

"Yeah," you admitted softly. "I’m happy."

His smile was immediate, wide and bright. "Good. Because I’d hate to go through all this drama just to find out my girlfriend wants to dump me."

You snorted. "You're so dramatic."

"That’s why you like me."

"Debatable."

He gasped, clutching his chest. "See, this is why I’m dating you. I like the challenge."

You laughed, the weight on your shoulders feeling lighter.

Maybe being in the spotlight was hard. Maybe the scrutiny wouldn’t go away.

But as long as you had him, you knew you'd be okay.

[honeylouwho]

tornado warnings ; clark kent

synopsis: you and clark are work rivals and there are only a few ways to relieve some of the tension.

cw: nsfw (MDNI. 18+ ONLY) / work rival!clark / fem!reader / oral (f recipient / making out / storms / envy (writers are an envious bunch). word count: 1545 love note: this is a work au + i had a lot of fun writing it!

Clark Kent stood by the window of your shared office in the Daily Planet, watching the droplets of rain cling to the glass. Thunder rolled through, spaced out evenly between the lightning strikes. Just under an hour ago, a tornado warning sounded in one of the Planet’s scanners, urging people to stay put and ride out the storm wherever they were.

For you, that meant the Daily Planet building, only occupied by you and Clark Kent. There was nothing particularly wrong with Clark, just that he was the only thing getting in between you and a headlining story. 

Clark Kent this, Clark Kent that. It was hard to compete with someone who held adoration by every single person he came into contact with. The worst part of it all is he actually was nice. Despite his kindness, you had a vendetta against him. 

In college, you were the best writer for the paper, and now you had to compete with some… Some guy? Part of you was convinced the reason Clark constantly got headlining pieces was due to the fact he was broad-shouldered, had eyes bluer than the sky, and his stature sat at a whopping 6’3. He was gorgeous and at the beginning, you had chalked it up to the fact Clark had pretty privilege. 

Until you read one of his stories; the intricacies in his words, the bravery behind his honesty, it made sense as to why he constantly got the best spots in the paper. From that point on, you were determined to out-write Clark. It was a rivalry he wasn’t aware of, but it was a driving factor in your growth in the field of reporting.

“You look nervous?” Clark asked you, the words seeming to come out as more of a question than a statement. He was still leaning against the window, the temple of his head now pressed against the glass.

“I’m not a huge fan of tornado warnings,” the sentence came out abrasively, annoyance seeding its way into your tone as Clark stated the obvious. Not many people were thrilled about a possible tornado threatening to consume half of your city.

Clark clicked his tongue, stepping away from the glass. You watched him nod in response, his big hands stuffing themselves into the pocket of his slacks as he walked closer to your side of the desk. In only a few strides, Clark was peering over your shoulder, reading the piece you were working on.

“Hey!” With quickness you hadn’t realized you could muster, you clicked out of the word document, the computer screen minimizing to hide your report from prying eyes.

“I can’t look?” Clark asked, a quizzical expression melting onto his features. It was hard to look him in the eye sometimes, the lost puppy dog gaze was pitiful. 

“No,” you shook your head, spinning around in your office chair. “Why do you think you’d be able to look?”

“Why don’t you like me?” Clark questioned, pulling one of his hands out of his pocket to mess with the bottom hem of his suit jacket.

Hesitation, a wry glance, an uncomfortable bite into your bottom lip. There were not a lot of ways to answer that question without exposing your envy, and envy was never a good look. There was a break in the conversation, enough that was noticeable as you collected your thoughts.

“I can’t get a fair shot with you around. You’re too likable, too good at what you do.” You admitted, hoping that the backhanded compliment wouldn’t somehow stroke his ego.

“This tension,” Clark motioned between you two, his hand moving back and forth, “is very thick. I have no ill feelings toward you, you know?”

Clark’s tone sounded more suggestive than you think he may have intended, the word tension catching your attention as you filtered all of the ways you could relieve some of that built up pressure. It was exhausting having to work in an environment where the strain between you and the guy who shared an office with was palpable.

One thing led to another, Clark assuring you multiple times that he was not a hook-up-kind-of-guy. Whatever the hell that meant? You didn’t really care as he leaned you against your desk, your back pressed against the solid wood with Clark’s lips connected to yours. Dislike never tasted so good.

Clark was in between your legs, bent over in a nearly ninety degree angle as his lips pressed against yours. He tasted like spearmint, the coolness of the mint making your mouth water. His tongue slipped inside your mouth, licking against the roof of your mouth in patterns. Clark was extremely attentive, switching between his tongue dancing with your own and the other crevices of your mouth, ensuring he didn’t miss any parts of you.

His hand slipped between your back and your desk, coaxing you forward as he bunched your legs around his waist. Carrying you, with you clinging to his chest, he brought you over to his own desk. With a gentle ease, he laid you out before dropping to his knees.

“Why here?” You asked him, nails digging into the epoxy-coated wood with heavy breathes causing your chest to rise and fall in the most dramatic way. The anticipation of him knelt before you, blue eyes glistened like ocean waves, pulling you in with every perceptive dart of his eyes. The look in his eyes was making you squirm, sort of like you were a full course meal he was fixing to devour.

“I don’t want to make a mess on your desk,” Clark told you, but he wasn’t focused on talking too much as his hands worked your slacks off, leaving you in just your blouse and Clark fully clothed.

The worst part of it all is that you know he was serious; he was just being considerate. Did he have to be so nice? If he kept it up, you might actually start liking him.

On his knees, he was eye level with your core, gaze trained on the center. Jaw slightly opened, marveling at your basic panties revealing your excitement as the fabric was nearly drenched in arousal, Clark found his fingers at the waistband. “Can I take them off?”

Words were lost on you, but you managed to say yes. Clark was careful as he slipped the underwear off of your body, mindful that he might rip the soft fabric. Just like he did when he was kissing you, Clark made sure to pay mind to every part of your pussy.

First, he started by licking his tongue up the slit, focusing on the clit as he drew out the leisurely-paced lap of his tongue. After a few repeats of this, he focused on the nerves that would bring you to your first orgasm. Clark Kent may have been sweet as candy, but he knew what he was doing. 

“Feel okay?” He muttered against your sex, the sound of his voice muffled because he was too focused on keeping himself connected with you. If there was one thing about Clark, when he wanted something, he was determined to get it. At this point in time, the only thing Clark was determined to do was make you feel good. Surely, when you walk into this office tomorrow, the smell of your bodies colliding still lingering in the air, you would at least offer him a smile.

“Feels great,” the words came out breathy and needy. If you didn’t feel so good, you would probably be annoyed with how depraved you sounded for Clark Kent of all people.

The storm raging in the background was an afterthought at this point. The tornado could twist its way through the building and you probably wouldn’t have even noticed with Clark’s mouth pressed against you. 

Your insides clenched when you felt Clark’s fingers enter you. His tongue worked around the most sensitive part of your core, focusing on the pattern and rhythm. Between pauses, Clark would look up at you, checking in without verbally expressing it. When his fingers curled up, hitting that special spot inside while his tongue worked you over, you nearly orgasmed at the sight of Clark rolling his eyes back in pure pleasure.

“Wait—” you nearly begged, knowing that if Clark didn’t stop soon, you were going to cum. Clark Kent’s eyes shot up, his movements slowing down as if he were about to pull away at the sound of your hesitation. The realization must have dawned on him quickly that you were trying to hold out on him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of you finishing on his fingers.

With slow movements, teasing you steadily, you finished around him. With your chest rising and falling, you propped yourself up by your elbows, Clark still kneeling on the floor.

“Your turn?” You offered the desire for him in your mouth weighing on you heavily.

“No, don’t worry.” Clark flushed, his cheeks a light shade of pink. Either from the mind blowing orgasm for you or sudden bashfulness, you weren’t quite positive. His next words came out like a promise, “next time.”

“Next time?” You questioned, looking around for your underwear. Eyes landing on the pink sticking out of your pocket, you almost wondered if you should just put your pants back on and let him keep them as a reminder.

Clark only nodded, reaching into his pocket and offering your panties up. He was too much of a gentleman to let you go commando.

Clark Kent would be winning your affection over, one orgasm at a time. But for now, he was still your rival.

[odileeclipse]

https://www.tumblr.com/odileeclipse/775779988249133056/httpswwwtumblrcomodileeclipse775661244514516?source=share

Shadow milk cookie 100%% taught Y/N cookie some words that almost give Pure Vanilla a heart attack.

Like imagine them just going through the forest and she trips and says

"Dang it!"

A Lesson in ‘Advanced Vocabulary’

*in the dream before it got serious LOL*

A simple, moonlit glade, cool grass beneath your feet, the distant hoot of an owl somewhere beyond the trees. Almost peaceful. Almost. Because Shadow Milk was grinning. “You know, little light, there’s something terribly lacking in your vocabulary.” He drawled, pacing in slow circles around you, twirling his staff like a cane. You blinked. “Huh?” Shadow Milk clicked his tongue, feigning disappointment. “Such a proper little thing you are. Always ‘yes, papa,’ ‘no, papa,’ ‘oh, Pure Vanilla, you’re so wise.’” He snickered, voice slipping into a mocking falsetto. You pouted. “I don’t sound like that!”

“Oh, but you do.” He draped himself dramatically over an unseen seat made of shifting shadow, propping his chin in his hands. “It’s cute, really. Sickeningly wholesome. But not very… versatile.” “…Versatile?” Shadow Milk leaned in, voice hushed like he was about to share some ancient, forbidden knowledge. “Words,” he purred, “can hold power. And there are certain words, little one, that can make even the most stoic crumble, words that can turn heads, make knights falter, and scandalize the oh-so-righteous Pure Vanilla.” Your interest piqued. “Like what?” Shadow Milk’s grin sharpened. He knew he had you now. He beckoned you closer, and you leaned in, eager, trusting. His voice barely above a whisper. “Fuck.” You pulled back. “Huh?” He chuckled. “Go on. Say it.” “…Fuh…?” You hesitated, looking around like someone might overhear, though in the dream realm, it was only the two of you. Shadow Milk tilted his head unnervingly but was, coaxing, patient. “Fuuuuck.” “…F-Fuck?” He laughed, ruffling your hair like you had just learned an important life lesson. You frowned. “What’s it mean?” Shadow Milk waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, lots of things! It’s a noun, a verb, an exclamation, a reaction—truly the most versatile word in all of language.” He smirked, satisfied with his corruption.

The next morning, you woke up feeling strange. Like you had forgotten something important—but whatever it was, it clung to the edges of your thoughts like a fading dream. And then, it happened., your foot caught on a root. You tripped. Hard. And instinctively— “FUCK—!” Silence. Pure Vanilla froze. The gentle warmth in his expression flickered, his usual serene demeanor cracking just slightly. “…I’m sorry, what?” His voice was light, but there was a definite strain behind it. You slowly looked up at him from where you sat on the ground, wincing. “Uh…” His eyes softened, though his concern was now mixed with mild horror. “Where… did you learn that?” You scrambled for an answer, but Shadow Milk’s smug voice whispered in your mind, “Say it again. Just to see his face.” You would not be doing that. Pure Vanilla exhaled, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Oh, dear…” He looked at you like a disappointed parent who just caught their child writing on the walls. “That’s… not a word you should be using.” “I-It’s just a word…” you mumbled. Pure Vanilla sighed. “Words have meaning, my light. That one is… rather impolite.” You weren’t sure if the humiliation in your chest was from disappointing him, or from the fact that Shadow Milk was definitely laughing somewhere right now.

A/N while I took breaks on the long shadow milk x reader fic I got really inspired to do this request. very fun 10/10

[socgf]

chapter 5 - half-truths and headlights (a little bonus chapter !!!!)

in which ... rosie has to tell darry where she's been all night and thanks god dally's a great liar.

dallas winston x curtis sister ! oc

wc: 502

warnings: none!

you really got me: masterlist

when we make our way up the porch stairs, i’m a nervous wreck, but dally’s fallen effortlessly into his typical swagger. he doesn’t give a second thought before barging in the front door, not that he ever gives a second thought before doing anything. and though i know darry can always see right through me when i lie, you’d only notice that my lipstick is smudged and my hair is messed up in the back if you were really looking.

darry’s reading a book on the couch, eyes heavy, and startles at the sound of the door. when he sees dally sauntering in before me, his entire body tenses like he’s ready for a fight. but before he can open his mouth-

“listen, darrel. all rosie was doin’ was her job and i came in loaded. had to sober me up, get me home so she wouldn’t get in trouble at work, and all.” he pauses. “i’ll tell you, ya got a real fuckin’ square as a sister.”

he’s really selling it, still slurring his words ever so slightly and grumbling like i ruined his fun. i silently bless him for doing the talking.

“that true, rosie?” darry’s anger slowly shifts into reluctant acceptance, but i have to finish the job.

i nod. “i couldn’t just leave him there, dar. i figured taking him to buck’s would just be worse.”

darry sighs, running his hand through his hair like our dad used to do, though he looked more tired than strict. “c’mon rosie, it’s late. get to bed, yeah?”

and i nod carefully, but i don’t want to go upstairs just yet.

then he turns to dally, keeping his tone firm. “you good to drive back now, winston? you know you can crash here.”

dally shifts his weight and i can see the slightest flicker of hesitation crossing his face. “nah. always am.”

darry just nods, a quiet truce passing between them.

dally catches my eye one last time before he’s heading out the front door, a look that says everything we didn’t say back in his thunderbird. but then he’s gone and it’s silent again.

darry hesitates for a moment, and softens his tone now. “you know you can talk to me, right? if he ever…” 

“i know, dar. don’t worry about me, i’m alright.”

“you’re tough, peach. but you’re gonna give me damn gray hairs, worryin’ bout you.”

and i feel like the worst sister in the world lying to him, and i silently swear to myself that i wouldn’t ever let dallas winston talk me into causing trouble again. though, as soon as that thought passes in my head, i kind of know it’s bullshit.

“love you dar. good night.”

i’m heading towards the stairs, and he’s closing up his book on the couch.

“love you too, peach.”

and as i settle back under my covers, i try really hard to forget the taste of rum and winstons on my lips, but i fall asleep with the image of one person on my mind.

a.n. this is very short and tiny and idk how convenient it is posting a multi part series on tumblr maybe i'll move to ao3. idk. i have like 10 more chapters left in my mind haha

also i feel bad tagging yall bc idk if u wanna be tagged for EVERY chapter so. sorry for spamming.

taglist:

@mrsdillonx @hailpacino @magefelixir @jujuheartz13 @coastershells @r0seb100d @awsomeemochick @mattdillonlvr69

[bartonomy]

SWIFT HOPPER

PAIRING James Potter x animagus rabbit! reader

SYNOPSIS James Potter can catch a Snitch- but not a rabbit much to a group of little gremlins' dismay .

CONTENT WARNING I know that James wasn't a seeker in canon but it just fits, fluff!!!

WORD COUNT 0.8k

library.

If James Potter had a Galleon for every time you slipped through his fingers, he’d be wealthier than the entire Black family ever.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t being paid for this endeavour, nor was he being particularly successful at it.

“Come on, darling, stop making this harder than it has to be!”

His voice rang through the Grand Staircase, bouncing off the walls in a way that made you want to laugh, except you currently didn’t have the vocal cords to do so. You had, however, very effective legs. And you put them to good use, launching yourself up the next set of stairs before James could lunge for you.

“You’ve got to be bloody joking,” James muttered under his breath, hands on his knees, breath coming out in sharp bursts. His glasses had slid halfway down his nose, and his tie was crooked from where he’d nearly strangled himself with it in an earlier attempt to grab you.

You, in your very cute rabbit form, twitched your little nose at him from the top of the staircase, entirely unaffected by the physical exertion that had James sweating.

You were mocking him. You had to be mocking him.

The castle made an unhelpful groaning sound beneath you, and the staircase immediately shuddered, beginning to move.

Ah. Well. That complicated things.

You saw James curse under his breath as the shifting staircases separated you. He stood across the the lower stairs, one foot braced against the railing, hazel eyes locked onto you with the intensity of a Seeker tracking the snitch.

“Don’t you dare,” he warned, as if he could somehow read your mind.

You wiggled your little nose. Oh, I dare.

“Alright, bun, fun’s over,” James announced, straightening and swiping a hand through his already-messy hair. “Be a good little bunny and come here before I—”

Before he could finish his sentence, the staircase shuddered once again.

His eyes widened as he watched, horrified, while the stairs started swinging away from the landing you were standing on.

“Oh, Godric's-”

You had been mid hop when the ground beneath you quite literally disappeared.

Which meant you were falling.

A startled squeak left your throat, your stomach flipping as the staircases spun around you. Your brain scrambled for a plan, but your current form didn't have the capacity to make any logical decisions.

James, however, didn’t think a second before he reacted. Years of Quidditch training had his body moving before his mind could fully catch up. He lunged forward, arms outstretched, diving for you before you could plummet into the gaping free space between staircases.

For one terrifying second, he thought he’d missed.

Then-

Warm fur and a tiny, panicked heartbeat in his palm.

James landed hard, knees slamming into the stone floor (luckily only one floor lower) as he clutched you to his chest, his breath ragged. He felt you wiggle in his grasp, probably about to scurry away again, and he tightened his hold.

“Oh no, don't even think about hopping off again,” he rasped, voice hoarse from the burst of adrenaline. “You almost died, and I, merlin’s soggy balls, I cannot believe I’m saying this- I refuse to let you humiliate me any further, bun.”

He barely had time to process what had just happened before a small cluster of very concerned (entertained) first years came into view at the top of the stairs, staring down at him with wide, fascinated eyes.

One of them hesitantly raised a hand. “Um… you are James Potter, yeah?”

James, still half sprawled on the ground, one arm wrapped securely around a very disgruntled rabbit, groaned. “Yeah?”

The first year blinked. “Aren’t you supposed to be really fast?”

James closed his eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out. Count to ten.

A second one, with quite ugly glasses if he might add, nodded solemnly. “You are the best Seeker at Hogwarts....”

Another one agreed (how many bloody children are there?!) “That rabbit was so much faster than you.”

James exhaled sharply. “Holy balls, I hate this day.”

You, nestled in his arms, flicked your ears, entirely pleased with yourself.

He looked down at you, scowling. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

You wiggled your nose. Obviously.

James muttered something about bloody rabbits before shifting you so he could get back on his feet.

“You are so lucky you’re cute,” he grumbled and kissed your little furry head fondly, holding you a little closer as he turned to leave, ignoring the quiet snickers of the overgrown babes behind him.

This had not been his proudest moment.

And if Sirius ever found out about it?

James was never going to hear the end of it.

[indigo-flowers09]

Hello! So.. uhh.. Battle music.

In C!overtale, what is Clover's battle music? Is it always, uhh, a version of Enemy Retreating (probably slightly different for different circumstances or smth), or is it something else entirely?

Also, if it's okay to ask, what were the humans reactions to Clover literally producing music from their body during battles?

also drew c!overtale clover :>

(also read your recent c!overtale unfinished/sketch post and would like to say: take your time, don't force yourself to do [stuff], and have fun doing whatever)

:)

Hiya! First of all, SO CUTE ♥️♥️♥️ sorry this took over a month to get to ;-; eh i have asks i’ve been meaning to answer for longer

I digress!!! Music time!!!

I can hear clovers theme for most encounters sounding like Enemy Approaching (Yellow) but with a motif from Enemy Retreating in it and probably with some different instruments, maybe like a guitar from Showdown or some little piano or woodwind-y bits like in Snowfall and Birds of a Feather. Don’t take this for granted, i’m an illustrator not a composer, i know color theory not music theory ;v;

For the more important encounters, they tend to play music reflecting a combination of the personality of their opponent, their current feelings or the situation (Ex. Birds of a Feather when they befriend Marley, Showdown when fighting Stanley where you can hear the desperation he’s feeling, and A Mothers Love where the fight ramps up and up and Ceroba tries anything to win)

Pretty much all the humans they meet have never encountered a monster before, i’m sure plenty of them thought they were a tale told to children to scare them away from Mt. Ebott, so not only meeting one but when you do they just. play music?? that’s gotta be confusing, if not cool as hell

As for other monsters, their music sorta. Syncs up? Like Forlorn, it’d probably be pretty similar but it’d probably have a leitmotif and some instruments from Clover

siiiigh U.U i heart ranting

[booliuu]

Hi hi hi hello!!!! Can I request Tim Wright, Brian Thomas and Ticci Toby x (gn) reader, where reader has been working under Slenderman far longer than them? Like they are known as Slenderman's number 1 worker/puppet as he trusts them the most but Reader absolutely despises it but can't really rebel or else they get punished

The boys get assigned a mission with the reader or something and they slowly start knowing the real reader and liking them

I hope I explained it well sgzjdbbdb

you’re not too bad after all. . .

Pairing: Proxies ( masky , hoody, toby) x (gn!) reader

tags/warnings: (1k or more WC) , bit of gore & blood . lmk if anything else i need to add ^^

ꪆৎ 𝙰/𝙽 : AAAHH IM EXCITED! heyyyy thanks for checking out my blog!! i love this prompt so much ngl💗💗😭😭. you explained it perfectly anon dw! i have fun time writing this out! i hope this what you requested for i lowkey got lost while i was writing and didn’t expect it this long :,D enjoy reading! thx for the request 🤍.

request and ask are open! if you like my content don’t forget to like , comment , & reblog❤️.

my masterlist

You’ve know your boss for quite some time now. for as long as you remember actually. starting from that devastating night that you’ll never forget. can’t even sleep without nightmares plunging your dreams, constantly reminding you of your mistakes. you were simply just hanging out with your closest friends at that time in woods that now your fulling regretting . you tried changing the plans to be elsewhere but all of your friends dismissed your worries and suspicions of the woods. won’t even answer your questions but peer pressure you to just trust them. little do they and even you that slender had plans for you and your friends.

this tragic event happened with in a flash. your friends kept mumbling, giggling , even shouting harsh remarks about the woods. of course you join in the fun but there’s just strange lingering feeling you feel in the pit of your stomach. even in the back of your mind you knew that this wasn’t any ordinary woods , too many trees surrounding the place, no other trespassers either. it was just you and your friends. there’s something here that says without any explanation: get out of the woods.

next thing you know it screams of your friends entered your ears. one by one there blood was on the your hands.after you realize what you have done. it was to late. your now standing in front of a suited man that has no face that has his hand stretched out for you to grab.

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suddenly you woke up gasping for air, as if you just finished a race. your forehead partially drenched with sweat. one hand placed on the crown of your temple while the other is clutching your bedsheets out of fear. looking around the room with paranoid eyes and slowly realizing that your safe. you closed your eyes for bit trying to grasp reality at the moment until a familiar static was interrupting your thoughts . you groaned loud out of a frustration. great another mission you mentally sighed. closed your eyes for a bit trying to get rid of the leftover sleep before getting up from bed and getting ready to complete another mission

once your ready for the day, you left your cabin double checking if you locked the door. how could you forget, paranoia has you in a chokehold ever since the incident. walking around the forest, hearing the familiar sounds of your shoes crunching the leaves on the ground , hearing the birds flying and chirping . it lessen your anxiety a little, it’s better than hearing screams of terror coming from someone else mouth.

stepping foot now to your normal area where your normal assisted to whatever he wants you to do. you don’t like your new life at all you wished you can go back in time. where everything is normal. but you simply can’t because once he has you under his control… there’s no way of getting out. it’s endless cycle. even if you have “died”, you always. always without of doubt mange to come back from the last place you came from. it doesn’t even help that your known to be his top proxy. many of your “colleagues”despise you because after everything they all been through you mange to his top rank proxy. completely your missions without complains. he trust you to do his dirty bidding.

rebelling is a no go. you have tried multiple or even numerous times of escaping his grasp on you. it always the same, you start a new life thinking you have everything under control. you have friends and a capable job but at the end of the day it manages to find you again. hearing that god awful static noise that makes you want to cry out of fear. you pass out and you return to your cabin. your back to step 1 again.

your quite lost in thought until you heard some quiet mumbling from your spot of the woods. you raised an eyebrow and cross both of arms while walking slowly to the sound it’s coming from.

“ o-oh it’s you..!” your body tense a bit , eyes wondering where the sound is coming from . a firm hand placed on your shoulder , you turned around and caught a glimpse of a young boy around the same age as you . wearing a turtle neck under a hoodie that seen better days , same that goes for his jeans and boots . looking pass him there is two other man that looks older than both of us. one of them wearing a yellow hoodie and the other wearing a red plaid shirt smoking a cigarette both having a conversation that couldn’t be heard with in ear shot .

“ oh.. um…” you stumbled your words a bit trying to think about what to say next to the brunette boy , but a man who wear red plaid shirt interrupted your thoughts. cleared his throat and stomped the cigarette on the ground. “ ain’t going to tell us who you are.” he crossed his arms and gave you a weak glare. poor guy looks he hasn’t slept in days. “ everybody here knows who you are y/n , your particularly his favorite proxy.” he chuckled dryly without any ounce of humor. he try to maintain a calm tone but there was hint of jealousy surrounding his words.

not know what to say next, the man that was leaning against a tree , jabbed his friend on the shoulder from his comment. the yellow hooded man looking at you now and gave a smile but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. he waved his hand in the air “ sorry about him.. he’s a bit tired today, “ he mumbled out a apology . “we all just completed a mission but we’re just now assigned to another one and it looks coming with us.” he pointed to himself, “ i’m brian.” pointed to his friend,” that’s tim.” and then at brunette boy,”and that’s toby .” you nodded at him. just after he introduced you to his friends , toby and tim went straight for the truck. guessing that tim truck you mentally told yourself. brian with his back turned and walked towards the vehicle he signal you to follow him. “ come on.. we don’t have all day.” you followed him almost immediately.

after the completing the mission. day after day it looks like you’ve joined there little group. you figured out who’s the leader of the group without much thought. it didn’t brother you or anything it was almost a breath of fresh air since it was only you all the time. the more missions you all finished, the closer you all got. there all were pretty distant with you but the first one that decided to talked you was toby. his tics didn’t never bother you nor his mood swings. you gave the space he needs before coming back to talk to him again . you listen to him talk about anything to whatever come across his mind without any judgment.

brian couldn’t tell him much about himself because he assumes right after be coming a proxy, his memories were immediately wiped out and only remembers knows the present. same goes wth Tim. in the other hand, was the most difficult to connect with. not only he was a bit rude and an asshole there was an invisible boundary between you and him. although day after day he seems to loosen up a bit, he started being protective of you and you’ve picked up a habit of carrying a lighter even though you don’t smoke. it was for a particularly for tim.

one particular night, you all coming back a really difficult mission. it tired everyone out but least it’s over with now. walking on a trail that everyone knows by heart, you stopped for a bit while others paused there walking.

“ everything alright ?” tim mumbled while blowing out some smoke. even though his back was turned you can tell he was worried.

you let out a tiny yawn , rubbing your eyes seems like your body wants to sleep now. by why now you thought to yourself. toby hurried to walk to your side and immediately put an arm around shoulder. “ you can lean against me while we walk.” he said. you nodded and gave me a light smile before walking again.

there was silence for bit, before you opened your mouth to say something. “ you know you guys are that bad after all… “ you creaked a smile and leaning against toby neck, your eyes looking up and you can tell he was smiling. “ your not bad to yourself darlin..” tim said with a half smirk while huffing his final smoke before stomping it on the ground. brian only nodded agree with tim’s comment. maybe this life wasn’t too bad after all…

𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚜: @/k1ssyoursister & @/hyuneskkami

ꪆৎ 𝙰/𝙽 : i’m going to be honest with y’all right now, i haven’t written this much in sooo long😵, so i’m sorry if my grammar is bit rusty , wordy, or sentences look a bit weird. i’ll get the ball rolling again dwww 💪💪!! it’s just writers block has been kicking my butt lately and i didn’t want to make you wait.. i apologize if this wasn’t what you expect anon 🥹 thx for the request though.

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liuuboo2025 do not copy , translate or plagiarize any of my works. thank you ♡ﾟthx for reading! love y’all!